Tianxia:Ajatar

Background
''What is perceived as fact in an initial time may not be the case in a later era, with the ever-changing wiles of humanity. Benevolent spirits become monsters in the eyes of kindred, and adversaries become comrades. Natural forces that used to signal harrowing omens become things to be understood rather than feared, or perhaps the opposite could occur, given enough ignorance…''

She who mothered Spirits
 More than thirty-seven thousand years ago, locked within a land covered with sheets of ice kilometers thick that melted and reformed every few thousand years, an old and motherly spirit peacefully watched over the doings of the living. Her name was Axwel’kwal’sa, a name that would be changed in the tongue of people in years to come. Axwel’kwal’sa instructed all of her children to uphold the forests that she had took so very long to build, to live peacefully among the life of the land. To her eldest daughter, Miɲen'koɲ, she bequeathed all the forests of Ymir, all the land’s creatures, and all of the water sources of that same land. She had also given her a piece of her power, a power that could be used to create spirits of any kind, shape, or form. From her birth, Miɲen'koɲ was bound to the land, so Earth spirits were the type that she could make.

Her artistry was commended by all, lovingly weaving spiritual essence among the land to give birth to new forest among the ice, forest that was braver than any on the Earth. Who would have thought that such large trees could grow in the harshest of climates, where the sun only rose for a few hours each winter and where the biting cold blanketed the land in deep, silvery-white dusting? The trees and spirits would shout,

“Miɲen'koɲ, mother of much of us, give us the strength to survive in the terrifying cold! We do not want to die here!”

A mother’s love transcends natural forces, a mother’s love delivers instinctual protectiveness. This is why such trees grow in the North - Miɲen'koɲ willed for it to happen. She would simply reply to them,

“Oh, my vast array of children, do not fear! I will love you all for as long as I live, until the sun shall not be present in the heavens, merely hidden by tuft of cloud or veneer of night.”

But also were the people of the land concerned about their survival in the bone-chilling temperatures. Humans were to be watched over by the motherly spirit, and it was also her duty to protect them. They were residents of the forest, they respected the natural world and never took more than their fill of resources, though they were smarter than other animals. Miɲen'koɲ made a deal with these organisms: in exchange for continuing to treat the land fairly and respecting the work of spirits, she gave them the tools to survive in the Arctic and Subarctic climates without the need for wooly coats of fur like other animals, and without the overwhelming strength and speed of creatures such as bears, deer, and wolves. The humans agreed, and built a variety of shrines to honor the spirits, several of which they equated with animals. Especially sacred was the humble snake, given power by and considered representative of the sun goddess. People would give snakes grain and meat, and they would protect their dwellings from small vermin. Connections between humans and animals still existed in this time, even when impermanent settlements had to be built.

However, when the great diseases came, the people possessed not the knowledge required to cure such things. The diseases were hardier than anything they had experienced before, able to weather the bitterly cold environment just as the trees of the land had done. Miɲen'koɲ saw this and the death that wracked the land, and demanded an answer from the other spirits.

She was not the bearer of the disease that withstood the cold, but too similar was it to her own power. All the elder spirits gathered together, and found that there was a lie-maker among their ranks. One who had become Hiisi had betrayed the Mother-Spirit’s words, turned a promise sour. This one had disregarded the notion that humans would work with nature, and began spreading all sorts of disease among the developing populace.

Violence and death tear all asunder, Making treets rot and the people ill. Violence can spread and destroy, That faceless aspect of life which kills.

But I know that even the faceless Show their inner ways through the events That they perpetrate, And manifest faces worthy of retribution for their actions. 

All the spirits of a land set a trap for the Wasp, who was responsible for this, spreading honey among the trees and transforming themselves into small bumblebees. When Wasp smelled the honey and gazed upon the bees, it could not resist moving towards the source. It approached, and the bees immediately reverted to their original forms, wholly engulfing Wasp.

As Wasp was incorporated into the mass of spirits that had engulfed it, it shouted,

“I have seen something, brothers and sisters! I have seen something that none of you have seen, welling up in the minds of people! Their arrogance, their feeling that they have the right to the forest over other animals! But, since you all have found it proper to put me down, so be it. The world is ever changing, do not expect things to remain the same.”

After delivering this harrowing speech, Wasp became smaller and smaller, until it manifested itself in the physical world. It became a true wasp, simple and biologically purposed, flying off into the forests of the south. This is why the wasp and hornet do not live in the far North.

The Fallacy of Humanity
 But the wisest of spirits knew better than to completely disregard Wasp’s warning. They knew that few things stayed the same in the world, be they an acorn that grew into a massive oak or something as trivial as a fire burning all of its fuel away. Other spirits would find themselves continuing to chide Wasp’s poor judgement, and quibbled endlessly with the elders over this matter. Humans were continuing to live among nature and preserve it, respecting the land that was given to them by their spiritual overseers, but even this still represented a thin crust over their possible capabilities.

People had indeed been given knowledge of how to exploit their environment for their own survival, tanning the hides of animals that they had killed for clothing, as well as making shelters out of strong trees. They were steadily increasing in number, even if they had suffered somewhat large drops in population due to natural disasters in the world around them. Though people more often than not respected the spirits and gods by planting trees after they cut them down and thanked the animals of the land for their sacrifice, this was what gave the elder spirits great concern - well, that is, all except for Miɲen'koɲ. Still she harbored the idea that all of her children would continue on with their purpose that she instilled unto each of them as soon as they manifested themselves in the world. The elder spirits would say,

“People are multiplying in number. We see that they use tools, we see that they pour their chants for the bettering of the natural world. But how can we be so sure that they will not rise against nature one fateful day? Their views of the spirits themselves may change, in addition.”

Miɲen'koɲ replied to the gathering of the elders,

“I will continue to tell the people to stick to their traditions. You need not worry, for my children are all part of the world! Why would they work to destroy what they are part of? Tradition is something to be maintained in their minds, and therefore, the world will be peaceful.”

But far too stubborn was Miɲen'koɲ in this idea. She had vested such an overbearing amount of faith into the success and obedience of her children, that she became ever inactive. Innovation was slow in the early days of humanity, so their sudden inventions in bygone times went largely unchecked by those who looked after people. Such things would take thousands of years to make themselves known, but turning a blind eye to potentially dangerous developments is never a good thing, especially not for individuals who have power and jurisdiction.

In due time, the inactivity of Miɲen'koɲ had convinced the elder ones that this matter was trivial, all the same. However, with technological advances came changing belief, for humans had to protect their livestock and other domesticated animals from the natural world by the time they were incorporated into society. They built permanent settlements instead of erecting temporary tents to take part in hunting and gathering. The more minor spirits became wary of these encroachments upon nature, and instructed wild animals to become more defensive and ready themselves to deliver poison to people if they were to do anything out of line.

Give someone the means for delivering damage in defense, and chances are that they will one day use it to defend themselves. Snakes and spiders would bite people who came too close, for they were deeply afraid of the stories they had heard from the spirits. People returned to their homes, poisoned with vile venom, and went through the ordeals and death throes of those who were afflicted by poison. Humans began to fear snakes and spiders, and such was the profusity of this fear in the world, that only a fair few communities of the Baltic were left among those who still respected snakes by giving them milk.

Who was to blame for making the creatures of the land so aggressive and protective of their territory? Why did the world work against them? Again, the greater spirits moved to help humans, but by this era, the belief that spirits could help to cure disease had become severely corrupted. When the spirits approached the ailing people, they found that they were wholly shunned instead of welcomed, and rather than being invoked, they were cast aside.

What people had now believed was that the spirits themselves were the cause of all their worldly diseases, and began to develop magic that was supposed to cure the “diseases” caused by them. In fact, these incantations initially worked to deter spirits from helping humans and caused weaker ones great pain.

It would take several centuries for Miɲen'koɲ to find this out, but that was such a long time to wait, indeed… when she returned to humans, she found that few had even recognized her, and some had even tried to attack her. If one could imagine the feelings Miɲen'koɲ was undergoing, picture if a mother or a caretaker had seen their children completely disregard their relation to their forebear, treating them as an enemy instead of one who provides unrequited love.

Miɲen'koɲ wept and wept, aware that her “children” had forsaken her out of ignorance. Nevertheless, both human ignorance and the irresponsibility of spirits had its role to play in this. Different aspects of what had led to this outcome were unknown to both human and spirit, and continue to be so to this day.

Over another few centuries, the motherly spirit began assuming various new qualities and powers from the immense fear towards her and her earth spirit brood. In time, she would become akin to Wasp, the one who had delivered a much-unheeded warning about humans.

The Devil of the Woods
 Miɲen'koɲ had realized the changes occurring in her own self, in her own ancestral concept. Fear caused her to gain an unsightly amount of power, morphing her true form into something rather grotesque - an emaciated and sickly dragon that embodied both poison and disease, with its multiple deteriorating limbs and lack of wings.

She considered the various merits of either bringing this matter up with the highest spirit-mother, Axwel’kwal’sa, or not. Was she to forsake her own duties to the land, and leave on her own journey to better understand her own self, as the humans had forsaken her and the earth spirits by replacing them with other belief systems? No, that would not be entirely possible… if Axwel’kwal’sa had learned that Miɲen'koɲ had dispensed with such duties, the consequences would have been dire. Nevertheless, she had indeed begun to get accustomed to her grotesque form, and had wholly ceased in her efforts to help humans. Fear was a natural thing, a feeling of unease when faced with the unknown that is present without most sentient beings. She grew and grew from it, learning from the Hiisi Sages about how to properly conduct oneself with growing power, power gained from fear.

Now, instead of simply improving upon the forest, Miɲen'koɲ sought to seek those out who worked to scare the spirits or to damage the forest. When those who did just that crossed her path, she would allow them to catch a glimpse of her. Her very stare was said to have caused individuals to become sick with a variety of incurable diseases, and if need be, she dispersed terrible swaths of illness among villages and towns that did not deliver proper exaltations to spirits.

The time was around 500 BC, and Miɲen'koɲ witnessed the arrival of a new group of humans to Scandinavia. These were hardy people, blending with the current populace to make a variety of tools, weapons, clothing, and art. They quickly learned to fear the spirits of the earth, but continually invoked the others in their shamanic ways. Such Finnic and Sami folk were keen on respecting nature, but Miɲen'koɲ was very old and bitter at this point. So bitter was she that she received tiles such as “Duojá Metsän”, “The Devil of the Woods”, or simply “Ajatar” among the new populace. Content to connect with the changing times, Miɲen'koɲ changed her own name to Ajatar, befitting the very essence of who she had become.

To the Finnic peoples, Axwel’kwal’sa had a title change, as well - she was now known as Ilmatar, a spirit of the air. Ilmatar decided to look down upon the earth from her residence among the clouds, and saw that humans had become much different than they were all those thousands of winters ago. They had not upheld the correct shrines to honor certains spirits from so very long ago, and all of the earth spirits were bitter. Disease was once again a common factor throughout Scandinavia, even in the biting cold and harsh, dry weather. Complicated concoctions of toxins were strewn across the landscape, hidden to all but her.

Ilmatar’s visage darkened, her eyes growing ever vehement. What had happened to make the land appear in such a depressed state? She once again called the older spirits of the land together in a vast meeting in the sky, but also commanded the Hiisi sages to make themselves known to her. Many a discussion and debate was had in that Iron-Age sky, the magically-aware people of the Earth telling of the voices that they had somehow heard in their ears.

The verbal exchanges came to a close, and no one had apparently spoken the cause of the trouble. Ilmatar grew yet more irate, frustrated that not even her oldest daughter could divulge unto her the cause of the problems of the world. Left with few options, the spirit of the air turned to the gods themselves to give her an answer, ascending past the mountain of souls and into the World-Tree.

“Gods, High Ones, I am the spirit of the air, Ilmatar! I am the one who comes to you in the face of the violence in the mortal world. Tell me what you have seen, tell me if you know of the culprit to the misdeeds against humans in my land.”

The gods of the World-Tree heard Ilmatar’s question, and the deity of the sun was the first to reply. They took the form of Saule, a daughter forged into being by Teliavelis himself - a goddess that not only invoked the very sun, but channeled her essence through snakes. Saule met Ilmatar, her visage shining in comparison to the air spirit’s, but still possessing an inkling of distress.

“Ilmatar, oh sweet spirit of the air, you come to us with a face akin to one come from afar, and I understand your pain. My beloved Žaltys have become both brash and wary as the spirits of the earth are inviting them to do damage, bringing misfortune upon the households of people. Your eldest daughter has risen against her protectorate, betrayed her closest kin.”

Saule needed not say more, for Ilmatar was on her way to Earth. No one would double-cross the highest spirit of the air, not even once, lest they suffer a punishment most heinous. Ajatar’s solemn promise to her mother had been broken, and for that, she would have to pay.

Ilmatar cleared out a section of forest in Lapland simply by using her voice, demanding that her eldest daughter show herself and stand. Ajatar came out of the deep forest, and challenged her mother to a duel. Then and there, the two most powerful spirits in all of Finland did battle with one another, sending horde after horde of air and earth spirits against one another. Ajatar’s toxins and disease were such that they affected even spirits, deteriorating the vast numbers of beings that Ilmatar had sent against her. On the other hand, it was nearly impossible to approach Ilmatar, for the wind that she had conjured was also greatly detrimental to spirits, threatening to slice them apart. Their battle raged for days, with neither spirit gaining any ground upon the other. By this time, the sun goddess Saule, the dear daughter of Teliavelis, looked down upon Ilmatar, feeling immense sorrow for her. The land had been scarred for too long with toxins, wind, and disease, and far too many spirits had been put down. Saule momentarily left her chariot, and pointed directly at the Serpent Mother. A great beam of condensed sunlight tore through the Heavens and down upon the Earth, turning into venerable, spiritual chains that bound Ajatar almost immediately. Her grotesque form suffered egregious burns, burns obtained from power that could strip the scales from a dragon. Saule saw that the threat to the world had been fettered, and reached to Ilmatar, beckoning her forward to the Debeskalns to reside with the gods.

Upon a stripped-bare section of land the Serpent Mother lay for centuries, the skin of her true form charred and her life-essence at a critical state.

The Lurker
 Ajatar would lie upon that dead section of soil for some time, disguised by the small amounts of magic that she could still pump out from the reserves that she still possessed. All around her, life seemed to go by as it had done throughout the history of the world, aside from the obvious presence of humans and their willingness to conduct deforestation and build more of their constructions upon the bare ground that resulted. Anger continued to well up in her, anger towards both the humans and the gods for letting the natural world burn.

Neither animal, human, nor mundane Hiisi could see her, but the older denizens of the land could. They witnessed her pain and suffering, some fabricating folk stories about her that lauded her as a kind individual who had been misunderstood.

As the Serpent Mother lay pained upon the ground, Pohjola’s mistress of the frozen north looked upon her visage, feeling great remorse and pity for this one. She was Louhi, and she was old and wise enough to have figured out the real reason for all of the terrible events. Louhi brought Ajatar back to her domain upon the winds from all directions, and managed to heal her. She had imprisoned the same god of the sun that had fettered Ajatar before, so she was more than capable of healing burns caused by divine fire.

(Read about the rest at the Battle of Pelkosnjarga page.) (Finished, pending additional stuff.)

Personality
Ajatar is a no-nonsense Hiisi, by all definitions of the term. She is fully aware of what it means to exist as a Hiisi instead of a spirit of the land, and claims that she is, essentially, the acting mistress of an entire section of forest. Therefore, she does not make it a point to hide any of the ways of her personality - she is not above being blatantly rude to those who she can afford to act as such to, and it would seem that all she pours her care into is the bettering of the lives of the spirits that she spawns. Rarely is she seen to be happy when humans or the inventions of humans are near, though she is most commonly a rather content and lively being among kindred souls. Akin to several other beings that reside within nature, she feels a sense of duty to uphold the natural world, bitterly resenting those who work to sully the soil and treetops. Holding a grudge towards those who misinterpret the ways of nature for several thousands of years would make someone quite pessimistic when viewing the "achievements" of humans. The "achievements" of humans, you say? Ajatar scoffs at such things, stating that their only purpose is to take over the natural world.

She views other types of Hiidet or Youkai in varying ways, looking to fellow sages for advice on how to deal with the changing world, or alternatively, raising the younger ones in an intensely motherly fashion. Indeed, she has been the progenitor of many Hiidet-to-be in the past as well as the present, some bequeathing her the title of "Devil-Mother" or "She who Suckles Serpents". Protecting these individuals with her life is something she takes great pride in upholding, as well. Though she has overseen the birth and death of countless Hiidet, she still cares deeply for all of them who uphold what she tries to uphold.

Ajatar does not agree with what Pohjola's mistress has been trying to express in the last few thousand years, in that it would be better to work with humans and exploit what they can do instead of keeping Hiidet powerful through fear. Fear is what caused humans to betray the earth spirits in the beginning, fear is what brought her to power... why would she abandon such a thing? Far better would the natural world be if it held onto the old ways, she reckons. Holding tight to the old ways also factors into her maternal, unrequited love for nature.

Though she is bitter towards humans, Ajatar knows full well that trying to dispose of them is the wrong course of action. She is quick to point out the utter delusion in the minds of Hiidet who try to do this. Thus, instead of attacking humans, she spreads her sway over toxins and disease far and wide, relishing in the uncertainty and fear that is garnered by such things. Ajatar absolutely despises ignorance, and makes sure that she visits other beings who are of similar origin to her quite often in order to discuss and debate ideas. She is always keen on listening to what the older Hiisi Sages have to say, even if she does not agree with them.

Power/Combat
Ajatar has lived for a great, long time, and has dealt with all sorts of adversaries that have tried to best her. She has been sealed only once before, and actually managed to fiddle with and crack the seal open. In times of war, she is supremely ruthless, caring little for whatever destruction she manages to bring about. However, in more mundane situations, she is reluctant to challenge people on a whim, unless they are doing something to sully nature. Usually, her willingness to fight increases in parallel to the willingness of an opposing individual to fight her. In such cases, she will not stop the fight, delivering consequences of the bout that they themselves started.

She embodies some aspects of nature that destroy and deteriorate, those being disease caused by viruses and bacteria, as well as a vile concoction of toxins. Ajatar knows a great deal about any disease and poison, and will use them against all of her adversaries. Imposing, massive spheres of flesh-eating bacteria could be conjured by her, rotting away anything in their path, or she could make poisons that even the most skilled doctors of the world cannot cure. Ajatar possesses an immense knowledge of molecular structure, which she uses to her advantage in making toxins with combinations of compounds that are poorly understood or have not yet been synthesized in laboratories.

If Ajatar wished for it, any human or Hiisi who looked into her eyes could become ill. This is due to the fact that she can create and manipulate specific spirits of the Earth, native to Northern Europe, that were believed by humans to cause most of their diseases. Not only can she spawn earth spirits inside of beings weaker than her, though - a great number of these spirits can invoke powers of the earth and forest or take a number of forms (by default, the spirits that she creates take the form of serpents).

Ajatar's current form foreshadows the form which she takes when fighting certain enemies, which is that of a lindworm. In this form, she appears rather grotesque and almost zombie-like, embodying much in the way of disease and pestilence. Her strength increases enormously, in addition to acquiring a tough hide and the ability to breathe her pestilence among her adversaries.

Major

 * Louhi: Pohjola’s mistress often keeps an eye on Ajatar, for she never knows whether or not she will conspire to put the vast number of Hiidet under her control. She has since forgiven her for escaping from her job, and is usually willing to philosophize with a fellow Hiisi sage.