For most of Elven history, or as much as I have studied within Universities and Academies of Rolais and other nations -- Blessed be the Goddess that we elves live for so long -- That all of them point to The Eternals as the most prominently recorded place of origin of all Elves but here in Xovva, or The Holy Xovvan Empire as they would usually refer to it, the people that refer to themselves as the ‘Vrakori’ are one of the few places of origin that do not fit within the general scope of existing academic and historical records. At least, outside of Xovva.

In this entry that I write for you now my dear, Thessalia, -- my beloved and the light of my life -- I will detail to you what I have observed thus far from these people, The Vrakori. I hope you are doing well over there in Rolais for I cannot wait any longer in bringing you here in Xovva, there are so many things we can do here, even as scholars.

To begin, and as you know, I have been in Xovva for the last three years, and fortunately for me, I had only come to experience the closing years of the civil war that had occurred here. I have written to you often about the situation when it was still influenced by war and conflict, on how there are curfews and soldiers marching about in the city of Vizhame. But now this is will be the first that I write to you about The Holy Xovvan Empire at its most peaceful, and its most interesting.

In these past months that I have stayed within Saraes, the birthplace of the latest Star-Emperor of the nation, Azhev Nileeva, and a city with a population that is mostly comprised of these Vrakoris, I have certainly developed a fondness for them though they don’t share that same sentiment to me with the same degree as I do to them, the reason which I will detail as you read.

About their physical appearance. Where do I even begin? Thessalia, do you remember those stories told to us by our parents on how elves of old used to have skin as blue as the night sky? Well... I’m beginning to contemplate that its not just a story, but the truth. The color on their skin can vary between the orange colors of the morning sunrise and the red color of blood itself. It was like looking at the autumn leaves in The Eternals, remember that too, my dear? The color of their hair vary as well, from pitch black to the yellow haired humans, often called blondes, by their own kind.

And their faces are something to behold. It was like looking at a lion, or a wolf but still elegant, and carried poise. I had the chance to look at a reflection of myself and realized how different I look like compared to them.

Compared to them, I looked like a housecat.

But its not just their statures that drew my attention, it was also the articles they put on themselves. They all had piercings all over their bodies; ears, lips, nose even more than the most lustrous and highborn citizen within the cities.

And their nipples. The Vrakori also pierce their nipples... A revelation that I had discovered through an unfortunate encounter with a drunken Vrakori woman. When I had told what had occurred to the city’s custodian, she was promptly punished for indecency. I suspect that is only limited to females as I have yet to see a Vrakori male have such piercings though if I use my imagination and a bit of deductive reasoning, I can surmise that the men don’t pierce their nipples... But... Something else...

But such piercings are not as prominent or plentiful compared to the past generations, they tell me and it was because of a combination of the Kostuan occupation and the existence of the demons in The Black Fault. Their piercings are often made of silver and/or gold, sometimes twisted and given engravings, or even jewels embedded to them. They were indifferent to the idea of a wedding ring but I can see why they don’t wear piercings as often anymore, any Vrakori that possess a lot of piercings usually have them as a form of family fortune, inheritance, or as gift from others. When one shines bright like a star in the night, you’re bound to get into trouble.

The Sareasin, referring to the citizens of the city of Sareas, told me stories of crimes done against The Vrakori; their piercings taken from them by force, sometimes left bleeding, or sometimes dead altogether. I had just realized why The Vrakoris looked at me with disdain when I first entered Sareas. To their eyes, and to the eyes of Xovvans in general, I am an Esuna. A term they used to describe and to classify any elf not looking like them. It was commonly from the Esuna that such crimes are done unto them. It is also why The Vrakori did not warm up to me at first, they were hospitable and polite as any civilized person should, but they did not trust me at the start.

I had just realized how much that can irk you, and I can already hear your voice whispering the words ‘Hypocrites’ into my ear. I swear to the heavens that I miss your voice...

Aside from their piercings, they also had tattoos. Now tattoos are a norm in Xovvan society, but it is more prominent and more prolific when it comes to The Vrakori. They go all out with the tattoos is how I can simply put it. It’s always across their bodies, from straight lines and mathematical correct shapes to beautiful calligraphies carried out onto the bodies by female sages with just an implement with a nail, and a mallet. They tell me that the tattoos have been a great alternative to piercings, but they also told me that the culture goes a long way back and was used as a sign of maturity -- coming of age to put it -- and to mark any worthwhile achievements. That same purpose carries on until to this day albeit only becoming ever more elaborate and artistic.

I had the privilege to be tattooed by one of them, the process was long and excruciatingly painful. But when she was finished, and I saw the result of her work. I felt blessed, truly blessed.

It was the picture of The Red Bloom.

A flower that had once existed in these lands until the birth of The Black Fault. It was meant to symbolize faith, and a homecoming; of something that is now undone but still have existed. The woman even told me that I am one of them now, in fluent Kostuan at that.

Don’t you worry my dear, I may have fallen for this country and its people, but none of its women has taken my heart and my love, especially with the incident with that drunken Vrakori woman.

Speaking of women, I think you’ll really love it here despite the first impressions and the presumptions that you’ll encounter firsthand from the locals. Women don’t wear as much clothing as you might think. Xovvan society is rather efficient with their taste for fashion, and make do with the surface area of the textile that they use. Of course this lends to a common pattern of just robes, cloaks, scarfs, headdresses, gown-like dresses, and skirts with the only differentiating details between men and women are the patterns found on the cloth, and the way which clothes are wrapped and tied around their bodies but The Vrakori are so used to their environment that they’re not as covered in clothing.

Just wraps of cloth covering their chest and their posteriors as the most casual of clothings; they only used scarfs, and cloaks of sorts to cover themselves from strong winds and the rocks and dust that followed as such, and they only put on more cloth in events and celebrations, sometimes even less though it’s certainly such a great change from the stuffy and stiff gowns, tight corsets, and bothersome embellishments.

At the very least, you won’t have to deal with brassieres wrapping tightly around your bountiful bosoms anymore, and they don’t bother you for having such hefty ones either. The Xovvans, I mean, not just The Vrakori, there’ll still be some crooked ones here and there really but for the most part, the men here are more disciplined and courteous.

Apart from the piercings, the tattoos, and the clothes but their traditions are distinct from The Xovvans. I say distinct, not different because much of the Xovvan culture that had existed and still exists is partly derived from the Vrakori culture.

The clothes, the tattoos, and the piercings are examples of a cultural overlap between The Vrakori traditions and the current general Xovvan traditions while still being recognizably distinct from one another. I know it’s a little confusing to state and define even as I write this letter in Rolesian but such matters of language, though the Xovvans are aware, does not hinder them in the slightest in recognizing with what is being referred to. If only culture wasn’t such a broad term then perhaps I could’ve just sent you a missive with a singe page of paper in already containing something concise but you know me, I always like to do things right.

The Vrakoris do have an interesting taste for food. To put it lightly, they waste nothing about the animal, they cook and eat it all. Brains, eyes, ligaments, bone marrow; anything. They even serve horse meat, and dried whale meats. Well, whale is a common meat to the whole nation, but not so much with horses. If they didn’t cook the horse meat on the spot, they cut it thinly and leave it out in the heat to dry. The one that was served to me as the sun-dried one, and it was like beef but just entirely lean meat; tough and mildly flavored. But that was the least of the strange food of The Vrakoris, the one that truly churned my stomach out of its comfort was...

Hyena testicles...

Yes. You read this letter right. Fortunately for me, it was not made customary for me to eat such a delicacy. I kindly declined on the offer, and the Vrakoris who were with me broke into laughter. Though looking at the cooking of the ‘hyena testicles’, it was covered in flour and then fried over the pan with butter. The Vrakoris say that eating the testicles of another animal increases my degree of manhood though the grins on their faces as they told me this only lends to such a statement being a joke. I haven’t confirmed on this one yet but one thing is true is that the eating of a ‘Hyena’ only done in special occasions, and apparently my enthusiasm to study the Vrakori way of life warrants such a celebration.

The tamer ones in their cuisine are snake meat, lizard meat, and scorpions, and with the way they eat and cook things, I can tell that The Vrakoris have a preference for anything that is fried or grilled more than they would eat soups and stews. I can see the reason why, however. The Vrakoris have lively personalities, they move on about and often, they do their tasks with dedication and enthusiasm thus they need to eat often which is another thing I observed; The Vrakoris would go through five small but hearty meals in a day, only having eating twice at home, and the rest while on the road. In terms of city living, it lends to streets having foodfare across its lengths. You would see men, women, and children gathering inside establishments that are cooking and selling food to them. It’s like a swarm of warm colors, like a field of flowers blooming in a sunny day of Sun’s Kiss.

Thessalia, my love. There’s so much I can tell about these wonderful people within Xovva. They’ve stoked the fire that is my pride of being an elf, in a nation only filled with our own kind, that stand above the rest. I’ll be writing to you more about The Vrakori in the coming days, I’m still synthesizing what I have learned and trying my best to put them in better and more proper words.

I love you so much, Thessalia. I wish you were with me to see all of this.

Your beloved,
Leanthras