Lalamune Zazamune was born to a Lalafellin couple - His mother, a retired Gladiator of the Blood Sands, Chechemi Chemi, and his father, an active merchant for the Sapphire Avenue, and an avid supporter of the Immortal Flames, Rarayucha Leleyucha. In his youth, he was an only child, and the world about him was exciting, blissfully ignorant as to the vagaries of Ul'Dah and it's rather dirty backstory. His mother spent most of her time tending to him, treating him with stories of her clashes, and exaggerating the details every so often as to recount the battles in a fable-sense, to keep the young boy's sense of wonder alive. All the while, his father continued to work his mercantile magic, buying and selling to keep the family solid, all while cutting into his own margins to send some support over towards the Immortal Flames during their clash with the Imperials alongside the Adders and the Maelstrom during the war.
The War was never mentioned to Zaz' in his youth, but it became more and more apparent ow involved his father was getting towards supporting his city and his fellow countrymen. One day, Rarayucha set out from his stall on the Sapphire Avenue, told his wife and son that he was off to support the Flames on the front-line proper by establishing a trade route that might ensure more supplies, arms, and armor for the men and women at the front of the Carteneau Flats. Though Chechemi begged him to stay for his son, he simply told her that this was his way of ensuring their future, and with a kiss, he set off.
When Zaz' was 15, the Seventh Umbral Calamity struck the realm, and over the five years that followed in the wake of the travesty, no word came back from the Flats.
His Father, Rarayucha Leleyucha, was gone.
At the age of 20, Zaz' was a proper-grown Lalafellin, though he was still young of mind, and had much to learn. With his late-father's passing, he and his mother were granted an inheritance of his fortunes amassed over his entire mercantile career, and left to them with a note stating that Rarayucha likely knew this would happen sooner-or-later, and hoped the two of them would put the Gil to good use. While his mother was teary-eyed, he refused to succumb to depression, and for all the tending she did for him, it was his turn to tend to her. He took up simple delivery work about the town, not asking questions, and knowing what his work-worth was. He refused to spend so much as a cent of his inheritance money on simple things for the family.
At 22, he made up his mind on what he wanted to do with said inheritance - He wanted to venture beyond, to a place with more to teach him than the Ossuary or Mealvan's Gate. He dared to head out to Sharlayan. Though his mother protested against this, he assured her that it would not be the same as Rarayucha - He was not heading out to some forlorn battlefield in the hopes of aiding in conflict, he was simply seeking a higher education, that he might return more knowledged and better provide for her, and the rest of Ul'Dah. He made a promise that he would do nothing that might endanger himself bodily or otherwise, and with his bags packed, he set out for Sharlayan. With his inheritance to foot the bill for his planned stay and tuition, as well as dormitory costs, class materials, uniform code, and the rest of his necessary expenses, he studied day and night, attended various seminars on the machinations of magic, the balance of the elements, the correlation between the elemental wheel, and the sequence of the Calamities.
While in his pursuit of knowledge and a better grasp on Aether, he cacme across an interesting subject that had him rather hooked, and would drive him to pursue his major - The Lost City of Nym, and the various works that it entailed. The most interesting to him being the Aetheric tactics of the Nymian Scholars, whom worked alongside the Nymian Marines in the ages before even the Sixth Umbral Calamity! But what was most important of all the details, given his recent self-discoveries during his time in Sharlayan, was that the Nymian Scholars of old primarily utilized books for their magic. That was something he could get behind, as he began to hyper-focus his research into Nym, and their rise-and-fall, the remains of their city, The Wanderer's Palace, EVERYTHING he could absorb in terms of knowledge. And all the while, he sent letters back home, writing to his mother about his experiences, his progress, and his reassurances that he's perfectly fine.
However, two Summers before his expected graduation, she stopped writing back. Was it some kind of premonition? Had something happened? He couldn't simply drop everything and leave to check. So, he continued his studies, and after ten straight Summers spent practicing, learning, and proving himself beyond a shadow of a doubt, the Scholar received his degree as a young professor of Aetheric Studies and Manipulation, and earned honorary credentials within Sharlayan's halls. With his education attained and proven, he returned to Eorzea proper, and hie'd to Ul'Dah, to celebrate his successes. But, what he found upon his return would shock him. He had hoped to display to his mother at home his certificate of graduation, however when he approached home, he found a sign stating that the residence was vacant, and being repossessed. He asked about what the meaning of this was, and what happened to the Lalafellin woman living here.
They say the found her hanging from the rafters of her bedroom with a chair laying on the ground right below her.
His mother, Chechemi Cehmi, was gone.
With no more living family to speak of, the Scholar had to forge ahead on his own, with whatever methods he knew were available to him. He enrolled with the Adventurer's Guild in an effort to assist novices and veterans alike. He enlisted with the Immortal Flames, offering strategic angles thanks to his studies of the various Nymian Marine-tactics. But never one to plant his feet, he saddled his Chocobo, Bibliocobo, with tome-filled packs, and sturdy barding, and took to the fields. He roamed the realm, in search of the knowledge that Eorzea herself harbored, from Gridania to Ishgard, and all places between, seeking to spread his own learnings, and gather the teachings of those whom were versed in the native climes of the continent.
Not once did he consider a physical discipline, knowing he was better off with his practiced arts of magic. War simply did not suit him, so he rarely, if ever, took to the Allagan-riddled Carteneau Flats for the Frontline practice, or the rolling fields of the faux-Nhaadam in The Azim Steppe. Instead, he crossed the scorching sands, the creaking boughs, the soaked shores, all in an effort to find the perfect opportunities and evidence to aid him in his true life's goal - to completely, and utterly master the art of Aetheric Manipulation, and become as grand a magus as Archon Louisoix Leveilleur.