unsplash-logoNong Vang

Excerpt from the Research Notes of Sucire D’Aegir

I have discovered a particular tribe of our wood elf cousins in the North Forest of Calcut that has a deeply fascinating idea of gender. First, and perhaps most importantly, contrary to the traditional binary system found in places like my own Antron Confederacy, this culture has three genders.

As far as my research has determined, these wood elves only have two biological sexes like most sentient races I have studied. I have noticed a statistically significant higher rate of people with inter-gender conditions in the population I studied, but they insist this is not the case for all who belong to their culture.

Thus, their three genders, and by extension their ideas about gender, as far as I can tell, are not linked to any biological causes. Instead, their gender identities are tied to the role they play in society. These genders are as follows: the protector; which as far as my research has concluded, is the closest analog for the male identity in Antorn; the provider, which appears to be roughly parallel to our idea of the feminine; and the nurturer, which is the gender I studied most closely.

The nurturers in their society are largely responsible for the upbringing of the children. The children of the society, being largely responsible for learning and growth, are treated as having no gender. One could argue that they would be categorized under their own gender, but my guide insists that, as children have not yet taken on a role in society, they should not be afforded a gender.

When I asked about the parentage of one of the children under my guide’s care, ze (I am using pronouns of my own division to reflect their identity.) explained that the children are not considered to belong to the people that gave birth to them. Rather, all children in the community are the responsibility of the community as a whole. They are generally assigned a nurturer in a process that one might consider an adoption of sorts. Otherwise, the children are taught to respect all adults equally as caregivers.

Further inquiry into their system of gender identities has revealed to me that one is not locked into a particular gender once they reach the age of majority. Rather, as one changes roles in society, going from a caregiver to a sentry to a hunter, one is expected to take on the relevant pronouns and gender identity of that role.

This seems to have led to a more fluid and fungible idea of what gender as a whole is in this society. For instance, as I learn more about their language, I have noticed that the children have very simple names. Typically, they are comprised of only a single syllable. Adults, on the other hand, seem to have a name comprised of their childhood name and a suffix that denotes their current gender identity.

I attended a celebration where a group of children were brought into their majority. As part of the ceremony, each child announced their chosen profession and, in so doing, took on a suffix that matched their new gender identity.

There also appeared to be a strong use of nicknames or honorifics among them. When I inquired my guide about this, ze told me that the names given to them by their nurturers are common things. There are many Syrs and Tors, for instance. Because of the limited pool of suffixes to denote gender, there are many people in the community with the same name doing the same job. Thus, one generally receives a title or nicknames to distinguish them from the others.

The community I have found is deeply fascinating to me, and I look forward to studying their practices further. For now, however, I must return to the University and report my findings to Master Tyrel.