The First Steps In Over One Thousand Years [Namorel]

Once more the Namekian would take a slow, focused breath as he stood, taking in the serenity of the planet they had called home for centuries upon centuries now. It made Namorel sad in a way, to see Namek as it is now, even if he could not sense it like his other half he felt it all the same in how the planet herself seemed to 'breathe'. The rise and fall of the waves upon the coast not too far away or the slow crawl of the clouds across a verdant sky. It all felt at a malaise of where Namek as Treses had known it many centuries ago. The Namekian could not preciselt put his finger on it, but it seemed all the same that his other half too felt it and perhaps in an all more literal sense than Namorel did. The sensing of life energy was one of those things Namorel quite understood as much as his other half and former self did. Perhaps a trait that in time would eventually manifest itself he had always told himself, but even as a century and more passed he grew more and more skeptical of that very notion. Yet even now a great many things were changing for the both of them, so there is only time that can tell.

"If I recall, we are just distant enough from the at the time capital... so if there had been no significant change in that then some of a less notable sort are to be expected I suppose.", Namorel's words rung thoughtfully a moment in the air as he looked about himself then to the other being accompanying him. In their past the Namekian population was vast and varied in the larger populaces, but there still existed fringe settlements such as the one they were closest to... that very reason was among the many for Treses choosing this location out of any to reside for so long.

Namorel would take to the air as Treses began to head towards the nearby settlement, choosing to not stretch too much after only recently escaping an extended meditation. It would be here, meters above the ground that the Namekian would first see the settlement and get a good grasp of just how large it actually was. As his other half came to a stop Namorel would land beside him a nod. "The bird's eye view really puts it into perspective. Perhaps this is a good sign...", Namorel's words trailed off as he caught a glimpse of an unfamiliar alphabet written across a box resting in a cart along the main thoroughfare. He could only hope that the integration of alien products and utilities was a benefit to the Namekian people and not something that would later come to greatly harm the Culture of Namek. Glancing to Treses, he was uncertain if his other half felt similarly about this potential threat to their culture and their planet, but as he got a better look at the activity of the village he shook his head and waved the thought away for the time being, perhaps Namek as she is now would give the Namekian reason to worry less.

The first sight of the other Namekians drew a slight grin across Namorel's lips as he realized the stark discrepancy between himself, Treses, and the general population. Even setting the present size of the village into focus, this change from what he and Treses knew from long ago was the most noticeable. The Namekian wracked his mind on what could be the potential cause for this, but the only answer he could bring to mind was there must have been some reason for their change in colour and size in the last few centuries. "Perhaps they began eating some alien fruit? Or whomever spawned the eggs for a recent generation felt shorter Namekians were more useful.", Namorel replied telepathically with the closes approximation of a mental laugh and sarcasm. In a way he felt Treses was too naïve for his own good, but at that same time he could not even begin to muse up a potential explanation for everything they had seen to this point.

Namorel would take a moment to look about himself, pulling himself into the air for a better view as he attempted to grasp the purpose of each of the various structures around them. As he got a decent view of everything Treses' question would strike him and he would look to the few nearby hills for an older looking structure, it would be in this scan that he would spot the closes thing to a lead he felt he had. Lowering himself to the ground once more, Namorel looked to his other half and pointed towards a medium sized hill towering over the village some. "Perhaps this settlement's guide favors himself like the planetary guru, look at where they had the structure built." The more traditional Namekian building of two stories and white Namekian stone stood, overlooking the village with the onyx-like spheroid windows Namorel was all too familiar with from Treses' memories that cling so insistently to his own.

Even as he gave this information to his other half, he could not help but watch with some amusement at Treses' pathetic attempt to act helpless and lost. "Oh yes, however will you get that aid you so require from only the most knowledgeable of local entities?", the Namekian would reply to Treses' comment with as melodramatic a tone as he could manage, sweeping his arms towards his other half with as much effort as could be afforded this middling performance. glancing about, Namorel would keep his eyes open for any that might be approaching to assist them should his assumption be completely wrong as to where the village elder actually chose to reside. This village was all too foreign to Namorel and his other half to really say for certain anything and knowing that he settled into a relaxed position and watched Treses with a mixture of amusement and curiosity.

Eyes trailing, scanning every corner of the visible village before himself. Namorel found everything before himself all too curious, the Namek of the modern era was nothing like the planet he, or rather Treses once knew. He came to this conclusion prior when looking over the plains and hills, at the depressing sight of a Namekian environment brought to little more than grass and thin Ajisa trees. He almost wanted to say it all disgusted him, like a retching filth clinging desperately to the planet and preventing it from flourishing as it should, like it once was millennia ago in his memories.



The Namekian's mind began to race with the myriad possibilities as to what could have put their wonderful planet into such a state of distress when his thought process was broken by a voice nearby, it was an accent that Namorel had not heard before, seemingly the more modern variation on the Namekian dialect. It differed substantially from that which he knew and had heard from Treses of the older sort. Despite this dialectal boundary the Namekain was able to understand enough of what this youth was attempting to get across, it was almost uncanny how similar and different it all was. Was this really the world they woke into?



Looking once more to the hill and the two story traditional Namekian style house resting atop it, Namorel wondered what sort of individual would be christened with leading such a frontier village for lack of a better term. In the past settlements of this sort were generally operated by community, had this one truly grown complex enough beyond just farming to require a spiritual leader among the people? "This is still unusual, do you not agree? The so-called operational caste are yielding an unusual crop and such a frontier village has an elder of its own... perhaps something has changed...?", Namorel's thoughts trailed into the telepathic link as his brow and antennae furrowed in deep thought. He knew not if his other half would see the curious nature in their current situation and location, but it left the older of the two on edge in the slightest. Unlike Treses he could not naturally judge the lifeforce of others and had to rely on his gut for such things, but even that had driven him wrong in the past.



The path to the hillock itself was more reassuring than prior comments had left Namorel, the Namekian scanning his surroundings constantly on their approach on the off chance they were being misled. If the occasional glance or stare from their altered kin were enough to kill the two would have been long dead by that point, but there proved no threat. "Excuses can be made as needed I'm sure. Namek has never been a small planet and unless Her population has spread like weeds we can simply claim pilgrimage." Namorel's words, while telepathic, carried a hint of hesitation and second guessing of his own idea. Was it still a practice of the Namekians of this era, or had that been phased out for one reason or another in recent centuries? There were all too many variables to leave the Namekian comfortable with giving much of a firm answer on anything concerning this village or those that apparently operated it.



At the entrance to the hut, Namorel would get glimpses of his other half's memories, of a past where Treses was constantly at odds with the various elders of the planet. It was not a past he was too greatly familiar with, but in a sense it was also his all the same. Taking a moment to mentally prepare himself, or Namorel would attempt to before Treses seemed to tire of waiting and barged into the room regardless. With a shrug Namorel would follow suit to see the older Namekian before them, still the colouration of those before, but as this one spoke his dialect was much close to what Namorel was accustomed to. "There is no need for apologies.", Namorel spoke softly, looking down to the elder Namekian before himself, "We have travelled across the planet recently and simply seek conversation." Namorel's eyes shot around the room for a moment before returning to the elder and then to Treses, he had left the remainder of the conversation in his hands.

Barren, barren was the only word Namorel could attribute to what he had seen of this planet that he knew as his home, a world that despite his relative youth had been the foundation of his very existence for centuries before now and if he has his way, centuries to come. Yet as the Namekian came to see more and more of what was this modern Namek, that hope slipped further and further away from him. Sorrow was the first emotion that slipped into his mind, an emotion Namorel was not very familiar with himself. He had not been given the past griefs and the past worries of his former self, possibly aspects his other half now carries with himself. It all in honesty confused the older of the two halves, the majority of his life had been spent in meditation, honing his mind and his energy for the day of emergence, and so soon after that much has changed in such a short time. It would take the Namekian a moment to notice the disdain his other half harboured in his expression, perhaps Treses too saw the lacking present, that liminal void that Namorel could not quite put his finger on.



It would be the Elder Acoch that broke Namorel from his slight daze, returning the Namekian to the immediate world around him and from the mixed bag of emotions and memories clouding his mind. Nodding to the smaller Namekian's first statement, Namorel's antennae twitched slightly as Acoch continued to speak, however. The concept of an import settlement was not one wholly uncommon to Namorel, or formerly Treses for that matter, but never before had he nor his former self seen one so lacking in even the slightest iconographic imagery. The Namekian faith was not a profound one when compared to that of other species, but to those who grew up around it in its prime, the absence of the few symbols they carried, the marks of the dragon left an emptiness in any home or structure where one of his kind may find occupancy. Whatever deity it all rooted back to, even Namorel in his incomplete understanding knew well that it was not only a symbol of their race, but one of their identity. And to see a part of Namek in this state, lacking these very symbols, only exacerbated the cultural decay here at the fringes of Namekian culture. This is not a fate Namorel would ever wish upon his own kind, they should all understand even the smallest aspects of what it is to be Namekian, and this barrenness was not that.



"The current guru...?", Namorel's words trailed out in tense curiosity before he had a chance to second guess his own thoughts. The green skin of his brow wrinkled as he mused over the words and his attention shifted coldly to Acoch as he elected to listen more intently. His grasp of the situation was still too much in its infancy to grasp the full nature of what the village elder had just said, but what he did grasp was there existed a group of their own kind whom had stripped this temple and most likely these homes of every shred of the Namekian faith. In this moment Namorel would take note of the few items of written material among the belongings of this elder, the Namekian knew now was not the time to consider them but that there may be a chance in the near future. Turning to Treses, Namorel wondered if his other half had anything to add to this situation at hand. It did not surprise the Namekian when Treses chose to further elaborate on Namorel's prior statements, yet it did always seem to the Namekian that his other half carried a far more intent vigor to his words... perhaps a lingering aspect from the old Treses Namorel wondered.



It was the elder's first statement truly caught Namorel off guard, in what memories he carried from his former whole Namek never seemed the planet others were all too interested in. "This is absurd, first the so-called security of our cultural symbols. But invasion only exacerbated the potential of identity decay.", Namorel's tone shifted to one of intention as he frowned towards Acoch then to Treses. But it soon became apparent Namorel was not the only one of the two with disdain towards what the elder had just said. His other half's words were harsh, but true in their intent. If Namek or her people at any given time are not able to defend themselves, change should be sought from within, not without. "In dire times, even those of once strong will might have a lapse in judgement, but it offers no real solace in the implications of them regardless.", Namorel's eyes turned sympathetically towards Treses as he offered a slight shrug, his hulk shifting uncomfortably in the cramped room of the elder's house.



"Cowardice is not shameful, whether you see it as such or not. What we have been told is a far cry from the once dominant Warrior Caste we knew.", Namorel's eyes shifted to Acoch with a degree of pity and inquisitiveness. The elder seemed clearly uncomfortable, but not outright defensive at all. Before calling judgement further, however, Namorel would listen to the elder's thoughts as he further explained the situation at hand. Come the end of it all, Namorel was not in the slightest surprised as to one of the troubling factors the planet as it is now seemed to face. It had been a system Treses in the past rebelled against and one even now Namorel and his other half would only hope to abolish in its entirety. Shaking his head slightly, Namorel turned from elder Acoch to look beyond the threshold of the abode out towards Namek's rolling hills once more, letting his words settle in his mind before letting his unfiltered thoughts out into the open.



"So long as we divide ourselves along such ridiculous lines in the sand there will never be a true, properly unified Namek. The Warrior, the Dragon, the Farmer, and even the Mazoku all are of one. This division, this easy hurdle of blame is out greatest weakness as a people.", Namorel's grow and antennae shifted into a deep frown as he looked towards elder Acoch and shook his head, speaking solemnly and slowly. "I cannot speak for my other half, but time and again I have only seen strife from the system. We are as free as the depth of those divides between the castes.", closing his statements with a shake of the head Namorel looked to Treses and shrugged slightly before making his way towards the entrance to the building, his frustration and concern echoing over the telepathic link the two Namekians shared.

After his moment of reflection, as the dripping sorrow mellowed in his mind to a greater sense of melancholia, Namorel relaxed against the wall of the structure. He closed his eyes pensive in thought as he elected to listen for the moment, to hear the thoughts and words of his other half before choosing to expand further on his own. And after a moment this turned to be for the best as Treses began to speak, reinforcing not only Namorel's own concerns and stress but adding to the missive that their once greater whole carried. It was a burden they all faced and felt and it set Namorel at ease knowing his other half carried that same sense of urgency he did.

Acoch's reaction was not unexpected from Namorel, he had felt a sense of defensive pride in the older Namekian, granted it was a pride for a lifestyle that Namorel felt was shameful in relation to the people's past. To so actively claim the integrity of clans that in his own words prior had not at all been a driving force to help Namek maintain itself as a planet and people in unity. Before Namorel could voice his opinion, however, Treses beat him to it. A brief smirk crossed Namorel's lips, only broken after a moment as he mused over his own fragmented memories of those days, of those eons long passed it felt like.

At the touch of Treses, Namorel turned to look down at elder Acoch, an imposing intent built in Namorel's gaze. He mused over the elder's words for a moment, knowing his choice of word now carried much of the tone of this dialogue to come. With a slowly breath and a sullen sigh. "Tell me Acoch, are you happen in your role? As little more than a speaker to this settlement at the fringes of society?", the Namekian's eyes shifted some into that of a more inquisitive look. "Has this always been your desire? Regardless of caste or station."

With a shake of his head, Namorel pressed his back against the wall once more. He would let his words sink in a moment and watch the elder intently. "I am willing to wager, more than one of your people below are unfulfilled in their designated role. The promising healer who can never become part of the Dragon, the keen herbalist that is stuck a Warrior who will never see combat. What good are their talents if they are so harshly regulated?"

Stepping forwards towards elder Acoch, Namorel's gaze said more than his words could as to how the elder thought. "We learn nothing if we avoid consequences, if we completely evade change. The planet, the people have changed drastically in a cosmically short amount of time, and yet you push against the most fundamental changes that could be had? Where Namek herself grows or diminishes, you sit and let your own corruptions fester.", Namorel would come to cross his arms before himself, hoping some modicum of his words struck a chord with the elder before him. Perhaps he was being too lenient as opposed to his other half, or perhaps there needed to be that dichotomy between the two of them in moments like this. Regardless, Namorel knew what he had said was true in some sense. "It is all lines in the sand, you can wipe them away whenever you want, but instead you choose to consider them as absolutes."

This conversation did make Namorel wonder how much of the so called 'Legend of the Scar' was true and how much was hearsay. He was well aware of the corruptions biased sentiment can spawn in even the least egregious of tales, but even so it being known could hopefully set some context for those they speak to as he and his other half hope to bring some around to a more accepting state of mind.

Turning once more to look out of the threshold and unto Namek outside, Namorel's mind raced through his memories, probing those that belonged to his former self. Even in the century of meditation he took, the Namekian chose not to invade too deeply on those memories, but not more than ever felt context was paramount for any future dialogues. He could only hope whatever Treses might have to add would further advantage their argument, otherwise this conversation would likely go nowhere.

The elder's reaction did not surprise Namorel, Acoch had been on the defensive since the start, even if the older Namekian had attempted to keep a median tone for the majority of their conversation. Namorel's brow furrowed slightly, however, at the now apparent state of the elder's physique. Namorel had not realized it was this bad even here on the fringes of their once splendid planet, but at the same time the jaded perception of the once whole Treses' memories painted this as an inevitability. Namorel had hoped that bias was all that it was, and perhaps Acoch here was more an outlier than a representative of the state of Namek as a whole. Shaking the thought away, Namorel would shrug slightly at the elder's words, he had not necessarily compared his and Treses' stances in that way, but perhaps it was not inaccurate.

"That is one way of comparing our approaches, but even so a steady hand does not mean a gentle one.", saying this with a quiet frown, Namorel took once more look about the building and a quick glance back to Treses as his other half would make his way out of the building. Such a fragile fear as to becoming a pariah is something Namorel did not fully understand, to abide by one's deepest desire should be the prerogative even if it put them against the greater whole, this was the only true way to bring about meaningful change. The map, however, was something Namorel had not initially anticipated as elder Acoch put it into his hand. Whether this was some trial or an attempt to get the two Namekian's out of the elder's hands Namorel did not care either way. What he did care about, was where the map led to instead. Supposedly the paper the elder had passed off to Namorel would guide the two of them to the location of those that had stripped this village of the few vestiges of the Namekian faith they had left.

With a nod, Namorel would look over the hastily scrawled map, there were a handful of landmarks drawn perhaps without a second thought that the Namekian did not recognize, but felt it unimportant to mention to the elder. "I cannot speak directly for Treses, but I myself can only say I will try. If not for this divide in belief, then for the relics they stole at the least.", Namorel's words carried a cold sting as his disposition shifted to one of frustration for a moment. As he folded the paper over his brow line raised at the rod shaped relic elder Acoch held before him. This was not an item that Namorel had necessarily seen in the memories of the former Treses, but perhaps his current other half would recognize the item. After a moment of hesitation Namorel would accept the relic and nod to the elder. "We will return shortly then.", the Namekian would turn sharply and head outside with this statement, taking a deep breathe of the Namekian air as he left the older structure.

"It looks like we have a small task on our hands, the elder claims it is a means to prove ourselves or some such.", Namorel turned to Treses as he spoke, handing the map to his other half with a slight shrug. After giving Treses a bit to look over the map Namorel would hold out the rod shaped relic as well and continue speaking, "He also handed me this, something about a relic related to the Scar, the Capax, and the Mazoku." After a thoughtful moment Namorel would continue, "Do you have any memories of it? I cannot recall anything of the sort." A frown creased Namorel's expression at this thought, he was not entirely fond of the division of memories in it all, but that was a matter he had never had a say in and one he would simply have to live with.