Nahmea
A tropical nation-state. Home to the southern islanders, Eyjari, Nahmea is like a gorgeous gem of life in Patalia. When joining the empire, the nation-state was ordered by the Capital to come up with a design for their flag. A decision was made to use a symbol that had been drawn in the dirt for centuries – two vertical parallel lines connected by a swirl. The meaning of which has been kept secret by all Eyjari people.
The shattered isles of paradise. Once a single, sacred island before the sea tore it asunder, Nahmea now glitters as an archipelago of coral and memory. Its people, the Eyjari, live by tide and song, blending the sweetness of fruit with the salt of the sea.
Nahmea is composed of dozens of scattered isles, ringed by reefs and deep ocean trenches. The isles are haunted by old sea-spirits: turtles, manta rays, and ancient coral-groves said to house the slumbering “Red Hibiscus Leviathan” whose bloom only surfaces once a century.
Every major port has a Turtle-Beacon: a carved stone turtle mounted on a tower, whose flickering lantern at dusk signals safe entry.
The tides in Nahmea respond not just to moon and sun, but to the sighs of these sea-spirits. Fishermen speak of “silent tides” when the spirits grieve, a poor omen for the harvest.
Jewel of the Realm
Under Kaiho’i the Just of House Ráoqotóa, Nahmea instituted the “Mercy Courts”: gatherings held each quarter on the largest isle, where disputes between clans, fishers, traders are judged in public ritual. A special variant is the Tide-Trial: when someone is accused of desecrating sea-sacred ground (e.g., over-fishing a spirit-reef), the accused must dive into the Coral Grotto at dawn and hold the “Shell of Reckoning” for three tidal turns. Survivors are freed; those who fail must undertake service to sea-shrines for a full solar-cycle.
Nahmea’s banners and shared medallions are emblazoned with the red hibiscus symbol of House Ráoqotóa. Beyond this, the medallions carry ritual significance: at major festivals, the medallions are tossed into a great fire. The ashes are then poured into the rivers that feed the Great Salted Waters, which is believed to carry prayers through currents to the sea-spirits.
Merchants on the outer isles know that counterfeit hibiscus medallions incur not only legal penalty but also spiritual ostracism: they are banned from certain festivals until they’ve made amends.
Each autumn, Nahmea holds the Moon-Coral Festival. Sea-lanterns encased in carved coral shells are launched at dusk into the water, representing the souls of ancestors who ride the tides.
The largest lantern is launched by the monarch personally, Kaiho’i lights the red-hibiscus lantern from his scepter of sea-wood and amber, and sets it adrift, declaring the festival open with the words: “Mercy prevails, and mercy carries us home.”
Legend of the Manta
Its giant manta ray insignia is made in honor of the legend that birthed the nation.
In the days when the great salted waters forgot to give, the Eyjari people teetered on the edge of vanishing. Their nets returned empty. The rain tasted of salt. Islands once lush with fruit and fowl were now barren stone. Even the mountains belched smoke. The Eyjari traveled from isle to isle, desperate for a home. But the sea stretched endlessly around them, silent and withholding.
One day, a lone Eyjari sailor took his raft out to the deep waters and cast his net in a last attempt to feed his people, praying not to the gods but to the wind. He waited and waited, but had no luck. The moon rose and the sun set and still had no luck. He lit a torch upon his boat and attempted one last cast.
To his great surprise, the net grew heavy. What he pulled out of the water was no ordinary fish. Her skin shimmered like starlight on the ocean, her eyes deep and ancient. She was a giant manta ray, a sky-swimmer spirit born when the moon wept into the sea, given a whip as a tail to ward off enemies and gentle tusks for which to kiss her children.
“Release me,” the manta said.
“Who are you?” the sailor asked.
“I am Eheu’wai,” she answered. “Why have you captured me?”
“My people are in danger,” he said. “We need food and shelter, or we will die.”
Eheu’wai considered this. “If you release me, I shall lead your people to a place where the waves remember mercy.”
The sailor faced a grave choice. Feed his village for a single day, or place his people’s future in the fins of a talking fish. The sailor chose kindness and trusted in the great winged fish. He set Eheu’wai free.
When the sailor returned empty-handed, the people not only despaired but laughed at him for trusting a fish of all creatures. “How can a fish lead us to land?” they scolded. “You were fooled! Now, surely we die!”
But Eheu’wai rose from the seafoam and spoke, “You travel during the day, following only the sun and the moon when they like to appear. You must follow the stars. But fear not. I will guide you.”
Skeptical, but with no other option, the people readied their boats and waited for the sun to set. Then, with Eheau’wai’s help, the people set out, their ships chasing constellations.
For thirteen days, the ocean gave them nothing. On the fourteenth, their water nearly gone, Eheu’wai cried out, “Look! Upon the horizon!”
And there it was. Green land. Fertile and vast. Indeed, it was a nourishing jewel in the sea.
The Eyjari people settled there and called it Pu’uwai, the Heart of Mercy, named in honor of the act of kindness from the giant manta, Eheu’wai. Soon, the people spread to other islands and became the province of Nahmea. Even now, they say Eheu’wai still swims between stars and tides, ferrying the lost. If they are kind enough to let her go.
In the final days of the war, the Towers of Peace – colossal natural stone towers that radiated magic and energy and thought to have been left behind by the gods – were destroyed.
The cataclysm caused mass destruction and rampant chaos, killing over 1,000 people, injuring over 2,000, and triggered a geological chain reaction that caused the island to crack and split into five major islands – Ke’akau, Ka’hikina, Ka’hema, Ko’mohana, and Pu’uwai the original.
The eruption caught people by surprise, many fleeing the city to northern parts of the island after the initial explosion before the city was buried by ash and rubble. Most of the southern isles were destroyed and a majority of the standing structures and buried under 4 to 6 meters of ash and pumicite.
Royal house
Ráoqotóa
Motto: “Mercy Prevails”
Current Ruler: King Kaiho’i the Just
Origins & Lineage
The Ráoqotóa are among the oldest dynasties in the southern isles, descended from tide-callers who communed with manta spirits and sea turtles. They were once a humble line of healers before rising to leadership during the Sundering of the Five Isles.
Symbolism of the Crest
Sea Turtle: longevity, wisdom, and steadfast guardianship
Red Hibiscus: compassion, lifeblood, and tropical vitality
Sun-Mask: the god Meggalier’s blessing over the seas
Ocean Spirals: balance, currents, and the eternal return of mercy
Cultural Role & Reputation
Ráoqotóa is a house of healers, judges, and peacekeepers.
Nahmea looks to them for fairness and stability across the scattered islands.
Kaiho’i the Just
Kaiho’i is famed for walking the length of every major island to personally judge disputes and bless fishing villages. He believes justice must be witnessed firsthand, not dictated from a palace.