Work Text:
How is an Aasimar born? Where do their divinity come from? In most cases, aasimars are born from humans who have been touched by divinity or those who were granted a celestial gift. Others have one celestial parent and one human parent, usually, the mother, which gives them the ability to tap into their celestial parent's domain and power. On a very rare occasion, though, before the calamity and the gods locking themselves and the betrayer gods behind the divine gate, a god will fall for a human and bear them a child, a child with such divine blood running through their veins, blood almost as pure as the divine parent who bore them. One such rare case is that of Kord and a woman who would eventually found what would be known as the Dolorav tribe, the very first skyspear. Her daughter would pass on her divinity through the women of their bloodline.
As time went on, the legacy of the very first skyspear ascended to almost myth as the future generations started to forget their past. The Dolorav would change their ways, forgetting the worship of their god, Kord, and eventually, the bloodline of the first skyspear is forgotten. Forgotten and set aside until one of them, the first daughter in the bloodline after generations, is born with such divinity that it showed in plain sight. Yasha Nydoorin of the Dolorav was born during the raging of the biggest thunderstorm the tribe had seen in generations. Kord celebrated his descendant's birth as a child of almost porcelain white skin and snow-white hair gave her first cry. When the almost ethereally beautiful baby girl opened her eyes, two colors were seen, gem-like orbs of sapphire and amethyst greet the world.
As little Yasha grew, so did her powers. She would gain visions of storms, and hear a voice with every thunderclap. Unlike all the other children who are wary of the storm, the little white-haired girl would welcome it, almost greeting each majestic display of nature's wrath with glee. It would also seem that the mood of the little girl would mirror the mood of the sky. Days of sadness were followed by a gentle rain, while anger would bring forth storms of such magnitude it almost felt like a mirror of the girl's own rage. Eventually, it would brand her among the tribe as peculiar, weird. Especially when it was discovered that Yasha could speak the tongue of fiends and the divine, the only one of the tribe to do so. It was a discovery purely by accident as the girl had been on her first hunt in her teens with the tribe. The hunting party had come upon a minor fiend, nothing to be afraid of, but the thing had spoken when the hunting party descended upon it and Yasha had replied almost on instinct. This was immediately reported to the current skyspear, though much to the bewilderment of the rest of the tribe, the skyspear did not seem bothered by this. Instead, Yasha was immediately taken in by the skyspear to be trained into a warrior.
Taken out of the hunting party and into more rigorous battle training, the young woman was slowly shaped into an unstoppable force. Yasha discovered her ability to harness her rage and deal fatal blows to other tribes who dare try to attack the Dolorav. Upon her marking, the young peculiar human would be dubbed "Orphanmaker '' a name that would ring across the wastes of Xhorhas and strike fear in the hearts of any enemy of the Dolorav. The skyspear would continue to train and hone Yasha's abilities to dangerous and often unmatched levels, the perfect weapon, loyal only to tribe and skyspear.
Unfortunately, that deadly weapon would be unleashed upon those who had made it one day just a few months after her marking. In the Dolorav, the skyspear chooses your mate for you. Yasha was not an exception to this, though her mate had not yet been chosen. Then came Zuala, an accomplished hunter of the tribe, one of the rare Dolorav with magic running through her veins. Zuala would take an interest in the aloof and quiet Yasha, approaching her and eventually bringing out the person within the weapon. The two fall in love, madly. For the first time, Yasha would disobey her upbringing and follow her heart. In a secret ceremony on the northern bank of the seepfeed river, in a secluded location with a lightning-burned tree, Yasha and Zuala would utter their marriage rites with only the gods as their witnesses, as well as a scout hidden just out of sight. The two women spend their night near the river, their first and final night as wife and wife, as the next day, their planned elopement would be ended as the tribe's warband and the skyspear herself would capture them.
Zuala transforms into a mighty beast while Yasha draws her sword. The two fight with a valiant effort, but there are too many of them and eventually Zuala is captured after she is too injured to remain in beast form. Yasha, still fighting, meets her wife's eyes for the last time. "Live, Yasha. Live." Zuala's last words as she is forced onto her knees in front of the skyspear, whose blade is poised and ready. Yasha, unable to admit defeat, fights on, fighting to get to her wife, to save her. As the Skyspear's blade swings down, Yasha witnesses the death of her wife, and the tribe witnesses the wrath of divinity. The aasimar could feel her heart stop and her chest grow cold as the blood of her love wetted the earth. With a cry of pure rage, the warband and the skyspear would bear witness as the young woman's eyes turn white with radiant energy, her form appearing to shimmer and hum with the same radiance, and a pair of almost white golden wings sprout from her back.
In a fit of blind fury, Yasha, now a reflection of her divine bloodline, calls up a magnificent storm, thunder and lightning accompanied by torrential rain as what looks like a halo of storm clouds also appear above her head. The raging aasimar raises her sword, and almost like a flash of lightning, the avenging angel would cut down her former tribe's strongest warriors aided by lightning until only she and the skyspear as left, framed by the blood and bodies of the dead.
"She was not yours to claim, Orphanmaker!" The skyspear would shout amidst the raging storm and the raging barbarian in front of her.
"And you are not a god to dictate who lives or dies by your skewed laws!" With that, two blades clash as the skyspear matches Aasimar's fury blow by blow. Two warriors trying to outmatch the other, a stalemate of raw power versus experience. Eventually, the skyspear would tire and Yasha would exploit the weakening of her defenses. With one more mighty swing, the skyspear is no more. Her rage subsides, replaced by emptiness as Yasha falls to her knees in front of her slain wife. She stays there until she hears the distinct sound of the tribe's second group of warriors, headed in her direction. Using the last of her strength, Yasha gets up and runs far away to the north, towards the real wastes, where nothing lives except those who seek to exploit others for their sinister plots.
She wanders for months out in the desert on the eastern side of Xhorhas, to the barbed fields where she encounters a strange man with red skin, horns, and leathery wings. The man speaks with a silver tongue, and the nearly dead woman is entranced. Obann is what he calls himself, and he entices Yasha with promises of vengeance and salvation with the angel of irons. As the devil-man touched the Aasimar's skin, a boom of thunder is heard throughout Xhorhas but a storm does not come. For almost a year, the sky is silent as Kord watches over his manipulated daughter.
The fiend's hold on Yasha is strong, and slowly the young woman's divinity is sullied by the darkness of the abyss. Her once shining white hair turns jet black, and her porcelain skin gives way to an almost deathly pale white, even her eyes, once shining, were now dull and lifeless. The first time she dies, it's underground, deeper than even the senses of Kord can reach. A sacrifice to corrupt a leyline of power in Xhorhas. Next, on an island clouded by the influence of an otherworldly entity, masked once again from the searching eyes of the divine. The third and final time is once again in Xhorhas, this time in a foolish bid of Obann to corrupt a forgotten shrine to a god at the foot of the ashkeeper peaks. The broken shrine of Kord. This time, the stormlord is ready, and for the first time once again, a mighty storm rages as the god of storms raises his mighty hand and smites the fiend named Obann back into the abyssal plane, leaving his daughter unconscious at the foot of his forgotten shrine.
Yasha wakes up, her memories of the past year a blank spot in her mind. She walks and walks and walks the dull, lifeless, colorless wasteland of Xhorhas until she gets to the other side of the mountain. Then, in an event mortals would call complete coincidence, the first color she sees is purple. Above them, beyond the divine gates, a god and a goddess smile as the moonweaver blesses the meeting of her follower and Kord's blood.