Before - Legends "Legends of the Force"(epic drama with OCs), book 1, 32 Chapters, FIN

Then she is more sure than I am most of the time, dear earlybird-obi-wan.

 

Letting go can be very hard, and sometimes even the most magnamanious of us need help with that, so I guess Arcana certainly needed Isa's help there. But did Isa expect Adamah to be the one giving mercy (does it help that she can't feel her families feelings through the force, forcing her to consider and think about what others feel?); I expect not, though maybe Isa wouldn't see that as cruel, but as an act of nobility, and something the future dauphine can do, which her mother can not.

... Isn't that part of why Isa exists then? To explore someone that sure of herself, simplifying the world around her by being stern, hard, but not without mercy and love? Or is that too personal?

 

You and too personal, DarthUncle?



Let me give you something very personal now, since you seem one of my few fanfic readers left together with DarthFurio, earlybird-obi-wan & Kahara: the next update!

And thanks again for taking the time to read, to comment, to check on me the entire (holiday) day and setting tea for us!


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One sun week later, Arcānā gets crowned and Senator Kairos Aletheia leaves for his home planet of Amnion again. But his mother stays behind.

In order to get rid of her mother-in-law, the new god queen has a vicious plan. I wish she would have consulted with me beforehand, but she chooses not to. Instead she talks everything through with her husband and the children, who are easily blinded.

Within a couple of sun hours the entire trip is organized and all the luggage is stored in the private space shuttle of Agathos.

Soon I am faced with the Vallum Ventii, a place colder than a desert night. The mountain chain is covered in a white burial shroud called ´snow´. I cannot understand the children’s enthusiasm for it. To stand in a landscape that is covered all over with it is a nightmare. It makes the world smell different. And, even worse, it changes my way of hearing things. I feel lost and uprooted, even though my ancestors have fought their greatest battles in this inhospitable region of the planet.

A single snow flake lands boldly on my nose. It makes me sneeze violently.

If our entire stay at Dún Barr, a huge stone stronghold, is that way, I will return to the jungle on my own.

I miss the rain – all those showers and the high humidity that makes my clothing stick to me at any time.

Darkly, I gaze up towards the castle. Since three hundred sun years it is the actual winter seat of the god queens. Not many of Arcānā’s ancestors have made use of the property though. I can clearly see why. Snakes are animals that go into hibernation in some warm and cosy place underground.

“Yes, they do, but you are a Lidérc, Isa,” announces Phosphorous next to me, building a snow man. “Therefore snow should be no problem to you.”

Éleos, who is assisting his twin brother, points out, “But Isa is not covered in fur all over her body. Nor has she any fluffy ears and a long, elegant tail. She is not of true blood. She...”

My hastily made snow balls hit him very hard in his face. When Phosphorous laughs out loud he gets another one in his open mouth. I cannot help to look gleeful, while I clean my mittens from snow crystals.

“Hallo there, Force users and mind readers. Time is up! You are to return to the castle immediately. And I want you to write me an essay. The subject: ´Why not to spy on people’s mind and why not to talk about them like they are not present´. Three hundred words each. In decent Basic. Now bugger off! I will see you two clowns for dinner. With the essay.”

The two princes look hurt and turn towards their father Agathos. “You heard Her Ladyship, lads. Let’s go back!” He winks at me. “I am getting hungry anyway.”

“We are also coming!” shout Caelestris and Sereno together. They both grab their sledges and start to run up the mountain road as fast as the deep snow allows them to. Adamah, the dauphine, joins them with her ski.

“What about you, Aréte?” I yell down hill to the last remaining royal child.

The girl looks up, grinning widely under her elegant hood rimmed with wolf fur. “Can you stay with me just a bit longer?” she calls back. “Please? I promise to help you wax your own ski tomorrow and the day after!”

I sigh.

This offer is hard to turn down. I am very bad with taking care of my own ski. To wax those wooden items was a sticky problem for me. Somehow I manage to choose the wrong wax all the time. Aréte is brilliant with it. I wonder if the Force makes her sensitive to the local weather conditions. Apart from that she is just graceful on her ski, more than any of her six twin siblings.

“Is it okay for you to walk back with the kiddos on your own, milord?”

He smiles at me under his partly frozen beard. “Don’t you think it is time to call me Agathos, my dear?”

I am totally taken aback by this sudden offer, but he is right.

We have known each other for quite a while now. And we are both off-word strangers whom fate itself has brought to Draconis.

“Agathos.” Shyly, I give the senator my gloved hand.

“My dear Isabeau.”

For me a handshake like this is something special. It contains and seals the promise of a business deal. And the two of us indeed have made some sort of deal on behalf of the royal serpent-spawn. We protect them from any harm, including their own mother.

“Now we are in this together officially,” I say softly, looking him straight in the eyes.

“Yes, we are,” he answered with an equally low voice.

“May I ask you something, Agathos?”
A hint of sadness springs up in his face. “It is about Aconite, is it not?”

I nod.

“As a member of a telepathic household, you learn to read minds, too.” Agathos states dryly. “Well, Aconite is doing just fine. Aurora treads him like her own blood.”

“You must be grateful to your niece,” I probe, hoping for the right answer this time.

“Oh, she is not my niece. Narthex is her uncle.”

I detect a sense of unease in him now, but I push the issue further on. “What is the name of your relative that my step-brother has to protect?”

“I cannot tell you,” he says with open regret.

“Because you do not trust me?” I raise my voice on purpose.

“The children cannot be trusted with such a burden yet. And I am afraid my wife will find out.”

“Today I made clear that your off-spring better stays out of my head, didn’t I?” I put my hands on my hips, crossed beyond all means. With a side glance I check that the royal bunch is really walking up to the castle again. “They will not squeeze it out of me. I promise.”

“This is too important a matter!”

I turn away from him in scorn. “Than you are not any better than Luçien.” His name crosses my lips with frightening ease. “He always shut me out, too.”

Those harsh words help my mission. “You play unfair, Isabeau. This is emotional blackmail.”

“I know,” I agree, still not turning around.

I hear him sigh deeply and then a soft plopping sound follows. My concern for him wins over my anger.

Deflated, Agathos sits in the snow. I decide to sit down next to him.

“You have met my niece in person.” He reaches out for one of my hands, squeezing it. “Her name is Sionnach O’Conghaile.”

 

Agathos is a nice man deep down inside and so is Lucien in certain ways

 

earlybird-obi-wan: Lucien can be very nice, when he is not too religious or acts weird in other ways.

Okay, let me check for the other persons left on my update list:

@WarmNyota_SweetAyesha
@DarthUncle
@Darth_Furio
Kahara

IF there is a mistake on this list than PLEASE let me now immediately and I correct it!

And here a little side information. My facebook account just told me that 4 years ago, I wrote:

YESSS! Lucien is the best villain! Sionnach is the best non-human! I am Best-allaround! And "Wolf whelp" became best underrated. Tri-tra-tralala!

 

August 25 post: The bit about not being able to feel the force is a facinating point for all those that are so connectted and dependent on it. If you suddenly lost it, how would that being react? Ulic Qel-Droma comes to mind.

Sept 1 post: Agathos still has something to reveal to Isa. Just waiting for it...

 

Darth_Furio: I like the comparison with Ulic!

And yes, unassuming Agathos has many secrets to guard.

Okay, here we go again before I am off to a wedding party with DarthUncle:


Dark adapted eyes, Chapter 14:

Sionnach O’Conghaile. The tramp that my step-brother fell in love with, when he rescued her from the streets. “How can an Elfin girl be related to you?” I wonder.

“Via marriage.” His smile is sad and reminds me so much of Éleos when he is upset. “Sionnach is related to Arcānā in a way you cannot possibly imagine.”

“Try me on this one!” I mumble, even though unease fills me like sand.

“The underground laboratories breed a lot of things, especially when a Tjiehennet princess makes them. And not any princess, but the heir to the snake throne and the official mambo asogwe.”

Those words rise an unspeakable terror deep within me. “You mean that your wife is the anointed priestess of the Dead?”

“More to the Undead of Cunabula.”

Suddenly, I am not so keen on hearing him out, but he continues speaking.

“When her older sister Adamah lay dead before her, Arcānā went almost mad with sorrow. It took me many years to find out what has happened in the aftermath.”

I try to blend any other sensations out that hinder me to concentrate on his voice.

“A baby girl was brought to live in unnatural ways. Dead cells from the still-born child of Adamah and Ruadhan had been re-animated by dark Force magic.”

It is not the winter’s cold that makes me shiver. “Sionnach is a golem,” I realise aloud.

“No, technically she is but a clone,” he corrects me. “Golems are the stuff of legends.”

“You know about Luçien’s affliction with dark things and the Holy Isle,” I say, trying to keep my shivering out of my voice. This is now the second time I call him by his given name and not his title. It feels like summoning him. And thinking of it, he has huge issues with clones as well.

There it is again, the scary grimness and determination I noticed in Agathos before. To his enemies he can be a terrible foe. “This is why I forbid your step-brother to ever lay his hands on Sionnach.” Frown wrinkles mar his normally friendly face. “And I did so in the presence of witnesses. You were one of them. Unknowing, but a valuable witness. One he never would kill off anyway.”

Now I realize the full scope of events that has led me to live at the royal court of Cunabula. I am bound to the Tjiehennet family forever more. But I am not overly concerned yet. I worry about someone else. “Has Luçien fallen in love with your niece yet?”

My question makes Agathos chuckle all of a sudden. The frown wrinkles disappear immediately. “He will not get intimate with her. I promise you that.”

“Because he is not a real man?” I suggest, even though my glimpses of the future showed me different.
Agathos shakes his head. “Oh, he is man enough, but women usually do not interest him. His true mistress is religion.”

“Are you absolutely sure about this?”

“Luçien loves the holy scriptures of your people above everything else. Even if I would prove to him that those are just the remains of an ancient prayer book from Terra. A half decayed mess of pages that Gorge found in by chance...”

It is blasphemy to talk about the religious founder of the Lidérc this way, but I detect the honest truth behind Agathos’ words. Suddenly, it makes me sad that my step-brother is clinging on to lies.

He knows exactly from my stricken face what bothers me. “Perhaps the scriptures were something your people something that your people desperately needed when their involuntary exodus began,” he suggests. “But at present they hinder your nation to thrive and change.”

My eyes scan for Aréte, who is boldly moving away from us towards the surrounding needle forest.
“Life on Sapuhru is about survival indeed. Here on Draconis it is, too. Though your kiddos give a new level of challenge every day.”

With these words I try to turn around as elegantly as I can, but my ski stop me. I stumble and fall over. Agathos helps me up.

“I was very good on a water ski in my youth,” he says.

“Water ski?” I clean myself from the snow as much as possible. “I hardly can master those beastly things.”

“Aréte hates writing very much. You could suggest to her that she join her brothers in detention,” Agathos proposes, while checking where the rest of the children are by now.

I follow his gaze.

The royal off-spring is about two hundred feet away from us, waving happily. I can tell that they were too polite to listen into our conversation. Otherwise they would be as shaken as I am.

I snarl, looking towards the forest. “Once I’ve caught the little cow... excuse me, the little lady, I will indeed make her write... a lot.”

****************************************************************

I do some intense cursing in my mother tongue while I follow Aréte deeper into the forest of large, ancient pine trees.

My eyes hurt from the white carpet that covers everything under it. Snow makes everything equal.
There are patches of it all over my winter clothing. I have fallen countless times today, mostly during the hunt on my protégé.

Aréte will bleed for my inconveniences dearly.

Desert nights are cold in a dry way. The chill that the Vallum Ventii gives to a person seeps deep into the bones. I feel wet and utterly uncomfortable. No wonder that the name of the mountain chain meant ´Wall of the Winds´ in plain Basic.

The constant blowing Northern wind makes things worse for me. Now I hate skiing more than ever. It is no innocent winter sport, as it was introduced to me this morning. It is but cold-blooded murder.

The very moment that thought has crossed my mind, the girl turns around. I dislike to see amusement in her light green eyes. “Isa, I do not understand why you are so mad with me,” she dares to state.

“Let me enlighten you!” I roar, throwing up my arms with the skiing sticks attached to them. “This sucks!”

“For a beginner you did a very good job. You did not break anything, nor did you twist an ankle.”

“Not yet.”

“But you did not.”

“I still might.” While I tell her this, I imagine what I will do to her when we were back inside her mother’s castle. That gives me a grim pleasure. She will write me essays until her twelve fingers are covered in blisters and her small hands will fall of.

Aréte grants me her careless laugh again. “Stop being a spoilsport, Isa! Look around you! We did two miles together.”

I am frozen with anger and sheer surprise. “Two miles?” I gurgle.

Aréte nods eagerly, delight painting her cheeks rosy and fresh. “I knew we could do it. I can’t wait to tell the others.”

Then it dawns on me, the entire plot. They are indeed Arcānā’s children. So much malice rests in their hearts. “You set me up! All of you!”

“No, we believed in your ability to learn this sport and have even more fun with us. Èleos always says: Do it, or don’t do it. There is no trying.”

“You are so wrong, Missy.”

The six sun year old shakes her head lightly. “In times of distress you always overcome yourself, Isa. You are so brilliant.”

I do not know what to answer. Aréte leaves me completely speechless.

All royal serpent-spawn have this dreadful ability from time to time. They were very far away from being ordinary children. It has nothing to do with being strong in the Force. Their minds burn with such a brightness that one seldom caught in grown-up beings. And one never knows for sure what thoughts might come up next. It was always a big surprise.

****************************************************************

We stand still for a while in the midst of the forest. The snow comes down on us with soft flakes, formed like little feathers. Apart from the wind in the evergreen needle trees there is no other sound.

At the edge of my mind the future peaks around the corner.

“Not now!” I complain, hiding my face behind my hands.

I am shown another winter forest, more menacing. A girl is there, not really dressed up for the extreme temperatures. But the heat of the battle warms her body and soul. The dark knight is with her. The one obsessed so badly with her. That much that he is even willing to kill the thing he most desperately wants.

“Can we go home now?” I mutter, violently pushing the vision aside. Obsessed men do not interest me in the least.

“I thought you would never ask,” Aréte beams. “I feel like having some hot xocolatl.”

“You should not consume too much of that stuff. Chocolate is bad for the reception of your reality, the balance of your body and for your Midi-chlorians.“

Aréte laughs. “Do not worry about my Midi-chlorians, Isa. They are balanced and happy. I am not my mother. None of us is like her.”

I want to remark something about the dangers being a xocolatl addict, but I choose not to. Instead I step out of the ski tracks that she has made for us.

The Elfin magic makes my hair stand up, crackling all over my body. I know the extent of the wound before the pain arrives, but I remain frozen to the spot.

Helplessly, I fall straight into the activated booby-trap. The snow has concealed it from me and I had been too preoccupied to notice it at all. My fall ends hard and abrupt. The ice below knows nothing of mercy.

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(To be continued!)

 

Isa in trouble and hearing and seeing all of this

 

Wonder who set the trap? TFA Flashbacks are always welcome.

 

Thanks earlybird-obi-wan, Darth_Furio, Kahara & DarthUncle for reading and/ or commenting!

I will go on a little hiratus until Halloween, because I am too busy with birthday presents for many friends who turn 40.

But first my update:



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The term ´Deep Impact´which the holocron had once used to explain the crash of the giant meteor on Terra gains a terrible new meaning for me. My left underarm has broken right in the middle, the bone forces its way out of flesh and skin. My right shoulder has also cracked, being dislocated. My ribs, too, have been bruised. My left leg is broken as well, but it is a clean brake.

Despite all that pain I make no sound. There is still a tiny chance and I want to use it.

I lie still for some few heart beats, gathering strength.

Then I bend over to tear off the ski shoes and woollen socks from my feet, embracing the pain. What does not kill me will make me stronger.

While my brain is almost exploding with the sensations of my hurt body parts, I rise to my bare feet.

My eyes judge the situation in a brief scan. I jump anyway.

While I am in the air, I hear Aréte scream in a heartbreaking way.

My claws cannot not drill deep enough into the thick ice layer. Effortlessly, I slide down again, getting no grip at the walls. My broken arm and leg complicate the situation even more.

The strong smell of blood is in the air, mingled with the foul stench of two Elfin men.

Only then I start to howl, not an instant before. I go on until my voice breaks.

The silence that follows is a bad one.

They are still out there, listening.

I sob uncontrollably, realizing that my sweet princess is gone for good. The vessel that has been her body has been ripped apart. All the evil spell left of her is a bloody mess in the snow.

In the distance I hear a hunting horn. The ears of the Elves are not tuned to that sound at all, but my ancestors had murdered to it.

With the sleeves of my winter coat I wipe my frozen tears off my cheeks.

Finally help comes from the castle. There must have been a tremor in the Force. Somebody up in the castle must have felt Aréte die.

“I will cripple you two cretins beyond recognition!” I promise the two murderers. “Then I will find your families and hunt them down, member by member! And I make you watch me while I do so.”

They stir a bit, their druid robes rustling with the movements they make.

I continue, the thoughts racing feverishly through my sore mind. “But perhaps I simply wait until you explained yourselves to Her Holiness Mórag MagUhidir. As an ally of House Tjiehennet she will not tolerate this act of crime.”
Two pale faces peek down at me. I have their full attention now and I will abuse that to the very limit.

“Oh, there you are! Viscount O’Maoilrian looks a lot like you.”

“Do not confuse us with that scum!” one of the druids shouts, shaking his fists at me. His voice has the thick accent of the Sleah Maith.

“No, you are the scum. His Lordship is a man of principles. You are just hypocritical. He serves the dark openly. You are both very far away from the light that you claim to belong to. To kill a girl who just wanted to enjoy a winter day in the open... shame on you!”

“What do you know about the battle of good and evil, creature?” Now the other druid speaks to me, his voice full of contempt.

“Serving the god queen that close I know more about it than you can ever grasp, Elf. I see her children from dusk ’till dawn. They differ so much from their mother. All they do is full of honesty and love. Dark thoughts are very far away from them. Yet you sick perverts hunt them down at each possible occasion, spoiling their life. What do you want to achieve from that?”

“Freedom!” comes the simple answer.

My dirty laugh bursts out of my mouth with such a force, that it reminds me painfully about the bad state of my ribs. “Freedom? This is why a child is scattered all over the place? Very civilised. You are more notorious than my step-brother Vicomte Ankoù.”

They almost stumble over their robes into my pit.

“Why is it that everybody is so afraid of Luçien? Because a powerful Force bender is his real father Dealg?” I keep on talking, knowing it will buy extra time. “Now that I consider my step-brother: he has very friendly bonds with Senator Aletheia. It was not a clever move of you to kill one of the royal princesses.”

Their fear is so palpable, making my mouth water. I hope that one of the druids will faint and fall down into the pit with me. My shaking body needs warm blood.

“Luçien has murdered for less insults, you know. In the desert cities of my home planet, they call him...”

My heart misses a beat or two when my nose catches their arrival. The familiar sound of their small footsteps is softened by the snow. ”Non, non...!” I whisper in terror.

****************************************************************

“I am sorry.” Èleos thoughts fill my head. It is not unpleasant. Actually it feels like being wrapped in a warm and fluffy blanket. “There has already been enough bloodshed. I cannot allow any more of it, Isa. We must end this deadly circle or the dark side will forever haunt our family.”

I stand motionless, bleeding onto the ice. The only thing that I can do was to listen to everything that was going on.

“I will help you, Isa.”

Suddenly, the young prince shares his visual sensations with me.

I see the large backs of the two druid priests, frightening giants to the children.

I see the sad remains of Aréte close to the pit, bone splinters and organ tissues scattered on the snow.

I see the tears on Sereno’s face.

“Don’t!” I scream inwardly. “These men here do not deserve your forgiveness! Let your mother and her rancors deal with them! Run! Seek shelter!”

He does not listen. “I am Prince Èleos Arcānā Tjiehenet. And this is my brother Sereno. We come in peace!”

It is fortunate for the children that the druids restrict themselves to just staring at them.

“My siblings and I regret all the harm that was done to the nation of the Elves since their arrival on this very planet,” Èleos continuous with a calm face, usually reserved for holy festivals. “Even though those dark deeds were committed long before we were born, we feel responsible for all the harm that was done by...”

“Hurry up!” Sereno begs. “Please! She will be here soon!”

Èleos takes a bold step forward. “I beg you, milords, by all that is holy and lives in the light, let me offer myself as a hostage. I want to prevent further bloodshed.”

“That is your frecking plan, kid?” I yell.

The snow falls soundlessly on all of us and it seems that many centuries pass by before the druids come up with a suitable answer. The severe blood loss has forced me down on my knees by now.

One of the Elfin men says, “Tha mi an dòchas nach bi.”

My shared vision with Èleos ends abruptly. I am in the air, floating upwards. I know for sure that I am not dead, because I feel every inch of my journey.

Angry mountain rancors are not a pretty sight. They are more aggressive than their bigger desert sisters. The call of the dark side is strong in them.

“Behold!” I call out. “I do not want to be eaten up during your rescue mission, Arcānā!”

Her voice is like a blade. “And I would like to know what happened to Èleos. If anyone could be so kind to enlighten me...”

Only when she says so I realize that the boy is not around any longer. He has been taken.

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Thousands of little snow flakes come down from dense winter clouds, making the world more even.
The good, the dead and the ugly, all of us are touched by the flakes. The landscape around us seems swelling with them inch by inch. I wonder if the snow masses will get so high that they even will reach out for the heavens themselves.

The winds have gained in strength. They rattle through the fir trees with unexpected strength and make them moan loudly like legendary banshees, death fairies.

Six bulky rancors, specially bred for the icy mountains, flatten the path before us. They are brutal and mean creatures. The climate has made them harsh in many ways. I do not care for making further contact with them. Normally, I care a lot for any type of transport animal or pet. My heart is just too heavy to enjoy the play of their impressive muscles. Or even the pride with which they carry themselves through the blindingly white landscape.

Two agents of the Draconian secret service, called fovea centralis, carry my stretcher with great care.
Sereno walks at my side, his hand shyly strokes mine from time to time. He does not dare to speak. I would talk to him, if I would possess more strength. So I lie in silence, trying to deal with the unthinkable that has happened today. I failed the royal family.

I am their ward, the nanny. The children are my responsibility. Today, when it had mattered the most, I had let them down. I will never be able to forgive myself.

When we reach the mighty draw bridge of Dún Barr, I try to lift my upper body upwards.

“Don’t!” Sereno begs. “You have an open arm wound and I am sure your shoulders will not like it.”

I grant the boy a sharp look. “You know what I do not like? Not knowing where your brother is.”

“He is alive and well.”

“And who exactly can grantee that to me? You? He himself perhaps?”

Some tears ran over his handsome face. “Please trust us on that!”

“You really demand a lot, Sereno.”

I close my eyes to shut him out, but I can smell his strong feeling of guilt.

When our trek crosses the castle bridge, I open my eyes again and focus my eyes skywards. I cannot bear to look down into the large canyon itself or at the gigantic waterfall behind the ancient stone castle that is frozen at this time of year.

I try to imagine where Éleos is. Is he still in one piece or has turned into a bloody mess like Aréte? Is he inside and warm?

Elves are self-centred creatures. Their hearts are so cold that their skin burns from it. They need no fire to keep them warm. Can Midi-chlorians freeze? Is Èleos helpless in the hands of his kidnappers.

Anger turns Sereno’s cheeks rosy. “He was not kidnapped, Isa. He went with the Elves because he wanted to. They did promise not to harm them.”

“This is no children’s hide and seek any longer. You have to deal with very ancient grown-ups here. Aliens from Outer Space, who have totally different thought patterns. And believe me, they have no spark of honour left in them. They will take him apart limb by limb.”

I am too annoyed to stay flat on the stretcher.

“Do not be too harsh with the boy!”

A druid has remained behind. He is walking next to me, his hands bound in iron chains. Two stern looking fovea centralis agents are seizing him grimly by his shoulders. His hood has come off and reveals his thin face. He has pitch black hair that reaches onto his shoulders. That hair makes his skin look even paler.

“I will not be told by a child murderer how to deal with a protégé of mine,” I hiss at him.” Keep your educational thoughts to yourself until the god queen will rip them out of your brain!”

“My life is forfeit none the less.”

“You kidding me? Stop being such a martyr! You brought this on yourself when you decided to built the magic booby-trap in the snow.” I roll my eyes and seek eye contact with one of the agents. “Why did you not cut out his poisonous tongue? He can kill with words.”

“Orders from the queen,” the straw blond woman answers briefly.

“This low life abused her trust and good will by crossing the boarders of her land already.”

The druid smirks at me. “This was once our land, milady.”

“This was never your land. This is not even your planet.”

“Is it yours?” he dares to ask, showing no humbleness.

“I know that I am a visitor with restricted rights. Nothing more and and nothing less. But your people spread over Draconis like an illness.”

He gives me a sullen look. “Our soul is the land.”

“For that you would need to have a soul in the first place. And after what I was forced to witness out there. I doubt very much that you have one.”

 

she is in a lot of trouble

 

But you need to wait until Halloween for it to continue! I seem to have lost my beta WarmNyota_SweetAyesha.

And RL is very event- and stressful for me. So many 40th birthdays and one wedding. All that intense present making! Sometimes with other friends, but mostly on my own.

Plus tax stuff to be figured out.

I cannot read other fanfics at present and certainly not coming up with new stuff. I lack the motivation for the latter even though DarthUncle tries to be encouraging & Kahara to be helpful.

See you hopefully around Halloween! This also counts for Darth_Furio and Chyntuck.

 

No worries Azure. I'll keep it all on ice for you.

Like the intensity of this update. Isa is so Forceful. I like her characterization.

 

Don´t worry! I am working hard in the background, writing when I have time for it. I am not done story telling yet and this thread here will continue.

RL just presents me with a long bucket list!

 

Can't wait to see you back in my thread too.

 

Real life keeps me rather busy, but luckily my kind stand-in beta Kahara corrects my other fanfic about the niece of Sheev Palpatine since WarmNyota_SweetAyesha has vanished without a trace.

Now that it is Halloween I thought I should also update my fan fic here, written in appallingly bad English. Tried to correct it myself as best as I could, but the fact remains that I am not a native speaker and too busy with little folk between 1,10 years and 6 years in my German mother tongue 4 days per week for 35 hours.

But even tough I do not feel at home on the boards as I used to since last October, I try to keep the stuff coming. Like my RL friend MsLanna, whom I see very seldom, I am a fan fic writer after all. I have sentences & plots flying through my brain, have a regular need to write scenes/ chapters down.

The following update might make my loyal reader base, consisting of DarthUncle, earlybird-obi-wan & Darth_Furio happy.

Expect me to be back around 11th November, Saint Martin´s Day. I might even have time to check out other fanfics any time soon.

Now the update itself:



Dark adapted eyes, Chapter 15:

When our trek crosses the castle bridge, I open my eyes again and focus my eyes skywards. I cannot bear to look down into the large canyon itself or at the gigantic waterfall behind the ancient stone castle that is frozen at this time of year.

I try to imagine where Éleos is. Is he still in one piece or has turned into a bloody mess like Aréte? Is he inside and warm?

Elves are self-centred creatures. Their hearts are so cold that their skin burns from it. They need no fire to keep them warm. Can Midi-chlorians freeze? Is Èleos helpless in the hands of his kidnappers.

Anger turns Sereno’s cheeks rosy. “He was not kidnapped, Isa. He went with the Elves because he wanted to. They did promise not to harm them.”

“This is no children’s hide and seek any longer. You have to deal with very ancient grown-ups here. Aliens from Outer Space, who have totally different thought patterns. And believe me, they have no spark of honour left in them. They will take him apart limb by limb.”

I am too annoyed to stay flat on the stretcher.

“Do not be too harsh with the boy!”

A druid has remained behind. He is walking next to me, his hands bound in iron chains. Two stern looking fovea centralis agents are seizing him grimly by his shoulders. His hood has come off and reveals his thin face. He has pitch black hair that reaches onto his shoulders. The hair makes his skin look even paler.

“I will not be told by a child murderer how to deal with a protégé of mine,” I hiss at him.” Keep your educational thoughts to yourself until the god queen will rip them out of your brain!”

“My life is forfeit none the less.”

“You kidding me? Stop being such a martyr! You brought this on yourself when you decided to built the magic booby-trap in the snow.” I roll my eyes and seek eye contact with one of the agents. “Why did you not cut out his poisonous tongue? He can kill with words.”

“Orders from the queen,” the straw blond woman answers briefly.

“This low life abused her trust and good will by crossing the boarders of her land already.”
The druid smirks at me. “This was once our land, milady.”

“This was never your land. This is not even your planet.”

“Is it yours?” he dares to ask, showing no humbleness.

“I know that I am a visitor with restricted rights. Nothing more and nothing less. But your people spread over Draconis like an illness.”

He gives me a sullen look. “Our soul is the land.”

“For that you would need to have a soul in the first place. And after what I was forced to witness out there. I doubt very much that you have one.”

When we all passed the impressive gate way, we were silently greeted by the entire Shesha. I bet the reptilian women have drunken a lot of hot xocolatl to be able to meet us outside the castle walls.

All in all it seems to me that the entire royal household fills up the inner yard: Agathos, Narthex, Adamah, Sereno, Caelestris, the widowed Mistress Aletheia and a congregation of snake priestesses. All their faces are just blurry images to me. Only one thing shone clear in front of me. Blood on the snow.

The druid is continuously talking to me, but I shut him out completely.His voice has been the one who has condemned my dear Aréte to death. He had made her explode. I wonder how many people had felt it through the Force.

“... a trauma expert from Amnion.” Agathos’ face is hovering above me. “She also needs a surgeon. Otherwise she might lose her arm for good.”

“I am so sorry.” I do not possess enough strength left to speak out loud. My words come out like a mere whisper, yet he had heard me.

“Isabeau, you stood up for my children so many times. It is a miracle that there were no more casualties.” He gets down on his knees, clasping my hands. “My family owes you so much.”

All the warmth of his fingers cannot chase away the dreadful cold in my soul.

“I lost her.” At this point my sobbing has swelled into a big crescendo. “I... I...”

Narthex also leans down, stroking my wet cheeks. “Nobody blames you. This could have happened to any of us out there in the forest.”

So much blood for such a small child body.

“I failed!” I scream. “I failed her! She is gone!”

“Isabeau, do not hurt yourself!” The master valet insists. “You carry no blame!”

“Indeed.” Arcānā has joined us. “You are innocent. We know whom to make responsible. I promise you to leave enough of that filthy creature that you can live out your anger.”

Blinking my tears away, I stare straight into a twin pair of yellow lights. The dark side has been fully unleashed.

Around me the rancors, being as sensitive to that subject as I am, become restless. There is something wrong in their movements and sounds. I am remembered of a herd of banthas shortly before a stampede.

Before anybody can hold me back I raise my torso, avoiding to put much pressure on my broken arm.

“Get a grip of yourself, Arcānā!” I shout at her. “Can’t you see what impact you have on your pets? Do you want us all to get killed? Later on you can do whatever you want to that Elf. Now snap out of your mood!”

All eyes in the yard, human and non-human alike are fixed on me. “I want all animals being brought into their stables now! Do it quick, yet not too hasty! Feed them straight away with fresh meat. They lust for it.”

While Arcānā booms with deep laughter, feet hurry away to fulfil my orders.

The situation relaxes slightly. The rancors already act calmer than just a few heartbeats before.

“The members of the royal household are to retreat and so is the rest of the staff. Every unnecessary people: clear the yard!” I move on, sinking back when I finished. “And this one is for you, Queeny: Aréte is gone, true. But she has brothers and sisters that need all our love, care and attention now!”

Cold sweat runs over my forehead. I feel a careful hand removing it with a cloth. “You will be fine, Isabeau,” Narthex says gently.

“No more Elfin magic, not even to save my arm. Words can do so much harm. Simple words, words in the wind.”

The door to the future is wide open.

“Go to Dagobah!” the bearded man says to the bleeding boy who lies on the ice. He is fully exposed to the forces of nature. The Force ghost before him is not.

I black out on the stretcher, exhausted.

********************************************************************

The operation has been a success from the doctors point of view. Half in shock, half in wonderment I look at my new artificial limb: a robotic prostheses instead of a new grown arm in the laboratory.

Amnion has strange techniques to heal their citizens.

The metallic fingers click while I move them uncertainly.

In the eyes of my own people I am an Untouchable now, a mere cripple.

“Guess that is a second reason never to return to my home planet,” I muse more to myself than to my male visitors.

“Isabeau, it was a difficult choice for me to make, but dearly I hope it was the right one,” Agathos feels compelled to say. “I felt that you would not be satisfied with anything that came out of my wife’s underground laboratories.”

Gingerly, I put my healthy hand in his, pressing it softly. “You were right.”

The anaesthetics make me so dizzy that I cannot fight the landscape of the future unrolling in front of me.

The boy holds the girl shyly with his new prosthetic arm. Together they look out at the nebula of a galaxy. They both have suffered recent losses. The most pressing one was the loss of innocence. War does that to people.

I blink the vision away, but a new one comes to me.


A young couple exchange their wedding vows in secret. The man in dark robes also has a cybernetic arm. He is tender with his wife anyway. She used to be a queen, but now she is only his. Tonight, there will be no war, just love.

“Are you okay?” Narthex is pale with concern.

I laugh, swimming away on the drugs they had given me. “Now and then I get dizzy from fighting the future. There are those visions, you see? They reach out for me. Most of the time I turn away from them. It is not good knowing what the future brings. You are too busy avoiding things then instead of facing them.”

Both men look down at me thoughtfully.

“Do not tell Luçien! He will never understand. I found out that he is a witch hunter, you know?” I giggle. “He will kill me for it. I am sure of it.”

Eventually, I giggle myself into sleep.

********************************************************************

It is not the god queen who turns life into a misery for all of us over the next few sun days.

Techné Aletheia Is even worse than the destructive forces of a sand storm. To stay friendly to her is a big challenge for me. She insults me where ever and when ever she can. It is her own son Agathos who stands up for me most of the time. Sometimes it is Arcānā herself.

The children are utterly embarrassed by the behaviour of their grandmother. Since the death of Aréte and the disappearance of Èleos they are utterly quiet. In hushed voices the play cards or dice games. There is no running all over the huge castle grounds, no hiding in the labyrinth of gangways. They are always in plain sight and stay together as a group. It spooks me out.

One evening Techné Aletheia makes a big scene in the library. In the end it is her who leaves with puffed cheeks and not me.

Agathos breathes hard when she closes the door behind her. On his way back to his arm chair he presses my shoulder reassuringly. “Well met, Isa.”

Arcānā has not paid us any attention. Since dusk she stands in front of the coloured glass window, gazing outside into the winter storm. Grianán is sleeping in her arms.

Today has been a dull day for everybody.

In the early morning hours the royal mummy makers have arrived with their gruesome equipment. Arête’s will be taken away. Special pincers will pull her brain out via her nose. Then the lifeless body will rest in a special salt bath for forty sun days, getting dried up bit by bit. The last step will be to embalm the girl with expensive oils, wine and herbs.

My gaze is resting on Grianán’s face, when the baby suddenly opens it’s eyes in alarm.

One heartbeat later the door handle moves and the thick wooden door is pushed open.

My feline senses go crazy.

********************************************************************

The icy voice of a woman informs Arcānā, “I think that I found something that belongs to you.”

It is only a short relief to see Èleos standing there for behind the dark figure.

With narrowed eyes I glare at the slender build Sleah Maith that stands in our midst. She is dressed in an anthracite travelling cloak. The snow melting on its felt surface leaves wet marks on the floor.

“Do not think that you do impress me much by appearing in front of my door step.” Arcānā does not turn. “I felt you both coming all along!”

“I am not here to impress you. The Elfin Nation is upset.”

“Upset?” Arcānā twirls around, her blond mane crackling with the Force lightening. “The body of my dead daughter rests there between salt grains!”

Something makes me reach for my walking aids.

It hurts a big deal to move so quickly, but I boldly step between the two women.

“I presume that you are Her Holiness Mórag MagUidhir?” My voice stays steady, almost casual. “The Holy Inquisition herself?”

The Elf raises a pitch black and extremely thin eyebrow at me.

“I hope Èleos did not do something to offend you.”

While saying so, I open my arms as much as my walking sticks allow me to. My ward rushes into them anyway. I feel his hot tears of joy through the fabric of my tunic. He is unharmed and well. That is more than I had hoped for.

“Why are you assuming that the boy did something wrong, Marquise?” the Sleah Maith inquires, a sinister slur in her voice.

“I know how how religious fanatics like you tick.”

“Do you now, Marquise?”

I make my back straighter, gently pushing my ward away from me.“Agathos, would you be so kind as to lead the children into the kitchen,” I say. “They need some hot milk with honey, especially Èleos here.”

The prince consort grants me a grateful look, while he gathers his off-spring to leave the room with him.

Only when the door is closed, I raise my voice again. “The last person who was stupid enough to rouse your suspicion had been a poor unfortunate girl named Sionnach O'Conghaile.”

********************************************************************

Elfin eyes try to drill holes into me, scanning the surface of my mind. Mórag MagUidhir wants to find more things about the dreaded clone. But she cannot find anything though. There is only me in my head and endless sand dunes. Nothing else.

“You are not the first Force user trying to rumble around in my utmost privacy,” I tell her. “I find your lack of respect disturbing. A woman of your age should know better. How old are you? Seven hundred years? Eight hundred? Surely younger than nine hundred years.”

Her dark iris shifts from black into a yellow hue. Blood vessels show in unhealthy ways.

“The Mountainers do not like you. They call you the baby snatcher,” I add for consideration. “But you came here in vain. Grianán is mine. She will not be hunted down like her cousin Sionnach. This is not a snow rabbit. It is a baby. You have no right.”

I moved with a swiftness that takes her aback. When I have my fangs hoovering over her bare throat, my body throbs with pain. “Once more: Grianán is mine. Mine alone. Neither Arcānā nor you are able to raise her the way she needs to be raised.”

“Excuse me!” The child’s mother steps forward, steaming with anger. “Grianán is blood of my blood. You are just the nanny.”

“In a couple of months I bleed for her even more than you ever did.”

Violently, I let go of Mórag MagUidhir.

Outside the castle the winter storm has regained strength. It howls like a choir of voices, leaving me wonder whether the souls of slain Elfin soldiers still are fighting their battles.

Arcānā lashes out at me through the Force. Within the blink of an eye I am flung through the air. My throat ends up straight in her right hand.

While I dangle from her outstretched arm, feeling absolutely stupid and unnerved, Grianán starts wailing in a high pitched and unnatural way.

“This bickering is pointless,” Mórag MagUidhir intervenes. “Arcānā, release her!”

No reaction whatsoever.

“Now!” the Sleah Maith commands.

For a moment the grip grows tenser, but then I am carelessly dropped onto the hard stone floor.

I just lie there for a while, panting hard. It is a comfort to feel the soothing warmth of the special floor heating.

********************************************************************

When I finally manage to get up again, Grianán has cried herself hoarse. I feel so sorry for the poor, young thing. In her short life she has witnessed enough horror and violence. I ask myself if that will leave marks on her soul for good.

Mórag MagUidhir gives me a dark look. “She is spoiled for me anyway.”

“You are a mind reader, too,” I consider straight away.

“Once there were many among my people. The star dust on Earth was different. Here it is hostile, invested with Midi-chlorians.”

“So you are the odd one out. Being a child of both worlds.”

“It was an accident. I do not blame my mother. She did not intend getting pregnant with me.”

Her gaze is so murderous that it gives me no difficulties to guess the true source of her hatred. All the necessary answers lay before me as a desert dune, so easily accessible.

“My mother´s tribe always welcomed new blood,” I point out.

“This is why you are the true baby snatchers,” she hisses back.

“All that helps a tribe to survive is good.” There is no reason for me to get emotional. It is a matter of fact. “But you drain your own people in unbelievable ways. You deform them mentally and physically.”

My words cause the icy shell to melt and set free the fierce spirit that lurks underneath. “How dare you make a statement about the ways of my order?” she rants. “How dare you to have an opinion at all about that, cat slave?”

The god queen makes a sound that sounds like a suppressed chuckle. Then she walks off with a sleeping Grianán and sinks into the nearest armchair.

“You surround yourself with abominations, Arcānā,” Mórag MagUidhir accuses her. “How can you sink so low? You have the most promising potential in the royal family since centuries.”

My voice is as calm and as even as a sand dune in the glittering midday sun. “You and your precious order have too high an opinion. That will turn against you at one point.”

“The beanmna feasa will prevail. Nothing can stop us from spreading the light of truth in the universe.”

“Pride will be your down fall.” The future is dancing in front of my eyes. “Agents of light will help the darkness to grow in unbelievable ways. The Force witches of Darthomir, the Order of the Sith...”

“Sith?” the slender grown Elf interrupts me sharply. “You do pronounce it: shee.”

I make a soft moan. “The term baobhan sith describes a female vampire or a succubus.”

“There is no such thing existing!”

“When I see the dark deeds of you and your order than I believe, Your Holiness, there are such creatures. You are a vampire, bloodless and undead. And you have no heart.”

She makes herself as stiff as possible. “I will come back for Grianán when she is at least three summers old.”

“Make it nine.” I suggested. “You cannot take away a baby from the breasts of its own mother. That is wrong. Children must grow up with their families, learn the values and moral of their culture from their clan members.”

“Three sun years and NOT breastfed by her mother any longer.”

“Like I said: you have no heart in your chest,” I remark, my jaw jutting out. “It is a stone. Cold and unfeeling. Poor child to have such a fairy godmother.”

Mórag MagUidhir rises her arms high above her head and mutters some strange words in her ancient mother tongue. Then she is gone. As if she has never been among us.

“Why did you not stop her?” I am furious with Arcānā. “Why did it have to be my call? You make the entire Holy Isle shake with your anger. You can kill folk with Force lightening from your...”

Suddenly, Arcānā seems but a frightened child. “Mórag is a member of this family, too. One of its oldest members. She is many times my great-aunt.”

“Yet you wear the crown of the realm.” My cheeks burn hotter than desert sand at noon. “You are in charge of this planet.”

“There are alliances and rules you cannot possibly understand. I must obey her wishes.”

“Is she your dark mistress?” My eyes are wide in shock. “Did you make a pact with her?”

“No,” Arcānā mumble. “I serve nobody but my own. Yet she is an authority on this planet not to trifle with.”

“There is no fear. There is only yourself.” I lift my chin up very high. “Start living by that sentiment. There is nothing to fear from that creature that just walked out of us.

 

“Make it nine.” I suggested. “You cannot take away a baby from the breasts of its own mother. That is wrong. Children must grow up with their families, learn the values and moral of their culture from their clan members.”

Very true words. I wish it were true for all children.

 

I missed Isabeau - short tempered and impulsive, with a good heart and great instincts, and intruding force visions of a well known future.

Great update again.

 

Love to see her again and her adventures with the elves and other creatures

 

Three readers in a row, thanks Darth_Furio, earlybird-obi-wan & DarthUncle. My story missed its readers, too.

Life is pretty stuffed with meetings & duties. Therefore it feels even nicer that you guys care! And leave comments in here!

 

I might be able to update around the 6th December!

 

DarthUncle, earlybird-obi-wan, Darth_Furio and Kahara this story is back on-line.

I left my crush on Director Krennic aside tonight:



Dark adapted eyes, Chapter 16:

Agathos and Narthex insist on me taking a break after all the events in the Mountains, and I know they are right. I must learn to live with my new artificial limb.

Therefore I get send to the desert village Sendero.

After my first night there, I witness how the village slowly comes to life.

Dark skinned Ophidiae in bask corsages and colourful saris step out of their homes. Many of them have the steeled bodies of warrior women, even though they make a living by raising their cattle and doing some farm work. All half-blooded women wear their hair in the traditional braid style.

The smell of Setaria porridge and bantha milk moves slowly over the village square, tickling in my nose. My conclusion is that all the men of the village society are bent over the fire places of their straw huts, cooking for their female clan members and themselves.

It is a peaceful and simple life. Everybody has a place in society and fixed working tasks.

As soon as the rain period will start, these semi-nomads will travel around with their herds, mostly consisting of banthas and eopies. They will travel to the edge of the colour desert, where the richest grass grows. When those meadows will be empty, the people of Sendero will return to the dwell. Then all will start anew.

It is a cycle that is well known to me. My own tribe lived that way until it got erased from House Ankoù. By now even the dune sea might have forgotten the name of Clan Riwalan. Their skeletons are long gone, ground away by time and sand alike. I am all that is left of them. The last to remember the glory of the tribe mothers, their victories and their bravery.

How have I ever been able to live under the roof of the ducal homestead?

Shame overwhelms me. I am so disgusted with myself.

A tame kitten I have been, blissful and spoiled, until unforeseen and unfortunate events had sent my on a journey back to my roots. A journey that is unlike anything that I have ever experienced. And, even worse, it was not over yet.

With both hands I reach out and take comfort in the small amulet that Èleos had given me one sun month ago. The wooden trinket feels warm in my hand, as warm as a baby body pressing against me.

Until now I have been a desert rose, a huntress, an unwilling dark acolyte, an outcast of the House Ankoù and the royal nanny of the god queen's precious children. To think of myself as a clairvoyantis not easy. I never wanted to see the future in any way. I live in the here and now. To have visions is against all that I ever wanted.

My eyes move over the peaceful flock of banthas around me. Their massive, hairy forms make me smiley. I love their smell, their grunting, basically everything about them. They are not as vibrantly, abundantly beautiful as all the wild life of the Mother Jungle, true. Yet they stir a part in me, that I had forgotten existed. Even domesticated, they are part of the untamed desert. They are soul-bound to it.

A bantha of my own, this was all that I ever wanted. At the age of seven I should have had my initiation ceremony with a female calf. At the same time my twin-brother Matin would have gotten in touch with a young bull. Together we could have forged the mystical bond with our animal friends.

House Ankoù has taken my chance for a normal life and children away.

Had I grown up in the surroundings I was supposed to be in, my life would have changed the very moment my bantha would have reached maturity. Due to the intimate soul bond between the two of us, my body would have reacted to hers. I would have saddled her and rode into the desert for our adult initiation ceremonies.

And when I would have decided to mate, the young cow also would have mated with a young bull. When my partner and I would have had a child, our banthas would have gotten a calf of the same sex.

Such a bond was never forged with me. This has left me crippled. I will never have children of my own. And I will never mate. My mother's clan name will die with me. At least no bantha cow will ever commit suicide because I am to die first. That at least is a small relief for me.

It is not only the morning sun that turns my eye into small slits. I blink my tears away.

Laboriously, I manage to get up from the straw in which I have lain. My new artificial limb needs much training still.

The eopie cow with whom I spent my night gives me a friendly snort. I kiss her on her soft trunk.

“Thanks, sister. Your presence kept my bad dreams and memories away.”

She seems to understand me and rubs her head carefully against my belly.

“Do not worry, sister. I will return tomorrow night, if you and your clan do not mind.”

I look around in the stable, but none of the eight other animals seems to disagree. They all bow to me and I give them a royal acknowledgement in return.

There is new hay or grass to fetch for the eopies. Their water bowls also need a refill. They do not need much, but what they need I will provide for them. I am not here on vacation. And the last thing I want is to be treated as a spoiled royal guest. This is why I have refused living in the summer palace of the deceased Tamisra. I will make myself as useful as I can.

When I leave the stable, a toddler of almost two sun years is moving towards me. Its little arms and legs move with quick efficiency.

That gives my heart a pang.

Picking up this unknown baby here feels as natural as sleeping next to an eopie. It smells even better. The concerned mother is close. It is Ombra, the village mother.
”Domina!” the half-blood says with great respect. Her skin is as dark and creamy as the cursed xocolatl that Solitaire once gave me.

“Please call me Isabeau, Ombra,” I sigh. “Isabeau. That is all that I am, that I ever will be. I am not of royal blood.”

“But you are the companion of our beloved queen.” Her voice is strongly accented. “This makes you part of the Holy family.”

Now people think we are having an affair, Arcānā and I. She is the last person in the universe that I want to be with.

“The Force runs weak in my family. There are more important things to care for: the cattle, the fields, the household,” confines Ombra to me. “The royal serpent-spawn has the heavy legacy of the Force. Nobody around here envies them for that. They are direct descendants of the Celestrials.”

********************************************************************

Ombra and I stand silent for a good while, watching some good-natured boys catching water from the nearby well.

“They are what they are, though. And we do love and honour them for that.” Ombra continuous.

I hand her the baby back. My stomach is making noises, so loud that it can be clearly heard.

“Isabeau,” says Ombra, “might I invite you into my humble home for breakfast.”

“Only when you allow me to bring along fuel for your fire place.”

I point to some bucket that I have filled with eopie dropping. That task I have at least chosen myself. My weird visions I have not.

Ombra looks grateful. “You are very welcome, Isabeau.”

I walk to the bucket and take it with me into the hut. With every step that I move towards the hut I swear to myself: No more visions of any kind.

Master Yoda will be born many aeons from now on. So will be the young queen with her face covered in white make-up, the boy with the sad blue eyes, the girl with the silly hair buns, the black machine man and the masked warrior with his tripartite fire blade.

I can be at ease now, enjoying myself.

Plus train my new limb.

********************************************************************

Five years later, shortly before the fifth birthday of the second serpent-spawn I return from Sendero, which has been as hospitable as ever. The swing in my step is easy, my muscles are well trained by herding the cattle, working in the stalls and being a huntress for the little community.

Members of theShesha, the royal guard, are surprised to see me when I step out of the local porta nigra with no luggage to claim but a single spear.

I give a friendly nod and make my way over the Holy Island, checking in on my protégés.

I walk towards the favourite swimming spot of the children. Only the eleven year old Éleos and his younger sister Grianán are present. Both children are so consumed by observing three river dolphins that they do not notice my presence.

I climb into a nearby tree and make myself comfortable on one of its larger branches. While I do I give the signal to all guards in the area to draw back.

It is a pleasure watching the two siblings in the water.

For his age Éleos is rather haggard, but at least he possesses muscular arms and legs. Most of his skin has minor scratches from his games in the Mother Jungle. He moves with ease and elegance, laughing wild and free. It is good to see him so relaxed, carefree even.

It is clear to me that Grianán is the reason for his happiness. The four sun year old is a blessing. She has the biggest and brightest eyes that I have ever known. They are of a very soft grey and seem like mist. One can absolutely lose oneself in those eyes.

To ignore a request from the girl is almost impossible. Her natural fragility is another factor why people are always kind and patient with her.

There is one exception though, someone who is not charmed by her: Adamah. I am not entirely sure of the reasons, though I can guess at them.

There have been rumours and whispers. Nobody dares to speak out loud against the crown princess, especially after the mysterious circumstances of her grandmother's death. I have not witnessed it before, but now the evidence is overwhelming.

The first slap into the small face hits without warning. Not even Éleos had seen it coming in the Force. She has worked hard at that.

I, of course, have heard Adamah approaching, have smelt her odour in advance.

Not to intervene is heartbreaking.

The jungle itself seems to hold its breath.

The neighbouring colony of red monkeys, the mighty choir of birds, the frogs on the giant leaves of the Victoria plant – they all turn silent.

”Vaffanculo!” Adamah screams in her mother tongue. Piss off!

But Grianán stays on.

”Non capisci un cazzo.” Adamah hits her again, finally getting Éleos attention. You understand nothing of it.

My eyes turn into slits as a nervous arakanga sailed passes all of us. He cries out his complaints until his colourful parrot body gets lost in the distance.

Adamah yet dares to raise her right hand again. I feel like breaking each of the six fingers that are attached to it.

”Smettila!” calls Éleos, swimming towards the edge of the river. Stop it at once!

He is out of the water in no time and is now right behind Grianán, putting his hands on her bony shoulders.

I can see white healing energy flowing into the girl, calming her at once. She stops shivering and dries her silent tears.

”Guarda che rompi, Scemo! Pensa ai fatti tuoi!” Adamah turns dark red with anger. You are an unnerving idiot! Take care of your own business.

”Non avere paura, bella!” Éleos kneels, turning Grianán around to him. Do not fear, beauty!

His urge to teach her to overcome her fear makes me smiley.

Grianán does not need any training in some far away snowy mountains. The best person to teach her in the ways of the Force is one of her own brothers. The services of Her Holiness Mórag MagUhidir are not required.

”Lei m'ha fatto propiro arrabbiare. Non mi sento in colpa,” insists Adamah, before she is accused of anything at all. She did annoy me very much. I did nothing wrong at all.

I bite my own lip from the inside, trying to stay focused on the scenery.

”Tutta colpa tua!” replies Éleos very calm. It is your fault!

Then I notice a subtle change in Adamah's proud posture. ”Non ne voglio parlare,” she whispers so soft that I almost can't hear her. I do not wish to talk about it.

”Perché no? Ti sei offerto? Sei rimasto male?” The voice of Éleos seems to echo everywhere in the forest. Why not? Are you crossed? Are you disappointed?

I am very upset with the boy. To use his Force powers in such an unfair way. There is much dishonesty in such a battle style. Besides, these are not my teachings. If he wishes to found an order of knights, that means to serve the people and commits to the common good, then he should be above actions like that.

It seems to dawn on Adamah that there is something very wrong with her body chemistry and that her brother is the cause of it. Yet she cannot help but answer his inquiries.”Puó darsi. No lo so di preciso,” she admits. It might be. I do not exactly know.

”Mi fai pena, Adamah.”Éleos puts too much stress on the pronunciation of his twins name. I am sorry for you, Adamah.

I have to end it here and now.

“You had better be sorry for yourself, kiddo.”

My suppressed anger carries my voice. I am fully aware that it will draw back the ever alert Shesha.

********************************************************************

Éleos and Adamah both jump. The mental connection that formed between them must be very strong at present. It might be hard to tell where the awareness of one child ends and the other begins.

“Isa!”

I leave my hiding place and land on top of the ancient stair case.

Grianán struggles free of her elder brother's embrace, flying towards me. She jumps up the steps, two at a time. For a girl that is petité she has enormous energy reserves. When she finally sits in my arms like a queen on her thrown, I lick the tears off her face. She starts giggling, her world perfect again.

“I will not discuss this incident with your mother, but I will consult with both your father and grandfather about it,” I remark.

Adamah draws her eyebrows together. “I have no grandfather.”

“Let me tell you something, child. If I were Narthex I also would not like to wish such a spoiled, sneaky brat like you as my granddaughter. It must be more than pity that he feels for you, though. Somehow he did learn to love you despite of what you are.”

My sharp remark hits her full force. Tears are flooding her brown eyes now. That pacifies me a bit.

Shame, real shame. So there is still hope to correct all that went utterly wrong with her recent up-bringing until now.

To be the crown princess has obviously given Adamah the delusion of grandeur and invincibility.

“There is no point in denying your grandfather,” I move on sternly. “He is the kindest and most able man that ever crossed my path. You should be proud at being his descendant. Especially after all the heartbreak that your grandmother Tamisra caused him.”

A rebellious sparkle lights Adamah's features. “She should not have slept with a common slave. That is not like a queen should behave. She should have done better like that. A slave. Queens do not share their beds with slave boys.”

I carefully put an unwilling Grianán down. Then I saunter down the stairs.

“He is not a slave. He is a person. And his name is Narthex.”

I have all the time in the world. Adamah has nowhere to run.

“You, my child, are to call him grandfather in future. Or even better: sire.”

“You cannot force me! You, who is also just a slave.” Adamah gazes at me, hot with anger once more. If I ever had need of a lighter for fire wood, I would know where to seek it. “I am the daughter of a queen.”

For many heartbeats none of us speaks.

Éleos jumps out of the way when I start smiling. That smile never reaches my eyes.

“You are wrong once more, Missy. Narthex is a gentleman of means, loyally serving the man he grew up with. And I am of noble blood as much as you are. I just agreed on the position as the royal nanny because I truly believed it would change you for the better. To turn you into the head of state that your people need. Not my best performance until now, I fear.”

I reach out for Adamah's long, brown hair without any difficulties. My fist closes around it.

For pride, there is only one way of healing. To become what one most fears.

“Your brother Éleos here can be quite the philosopher. You know one of the very wise mantras that he came up with recently?”

I do not mind her screaming and squirming under my still rather relaxed grip. Nor do I get excited about the curious Shesha popping up between the trees.

There are also smaller faces among the bushes. The rest of the royal spawn gives itself the honour of an audience: Caelestris, Sereno, Phosphoros, Iocus, Blandita, Rubio, Daná and Calathus.

“Listen to me now, Princess Adamah Arcānā Tjiehenet, for I hate to repeat myself. There is no ignorance, there is knowledge.”

Éleos frowns at my words.

“Let me explain how I understand these words: A member of the royal household, strong in the Force or not does not matter, must be circumspect and try to understand the world that is surrounding him. That ignorance does not exist is, of course, a flat-out lie or gross misunderstanding.. Simply ignoring facts that do not fit with one's viewpoint is equally foolhardy. It maybe become a goal though: Ignorance is a part of life but it can be lifted... so let me enlighten you.”

I drag Adamah with me, not caring about the tantrum she makes. Nobody dares to come near us or separate us.

********************************************************************

Ombra gives me a surprised look, when I arrived at her village heartbeats before dusk. I lead a screaming and kicking Adamah by her hair.

Everybody is sitting out in the evening sun and they are sharing a meal together. The rainy season is soon to come. Doing things together as a clan will be more and more important now.

“Ave!”

I give Ombra the very formal greeting that a woman of her high position as the village mother deserves.

The dauphine is forced to go on her knees with me as well, screaming even more.

“Greetings, Exulted One. Allow me to introduce myself. I am Marquise Isabeau Riwalan. Daughter of the desert sea of Sapuhru and royal nanny to the god queen.”

Ombra sets down the wooden bowl she was eating from. Her face is a full mask of politeness and self-control. It is as if she had just swallowed her amusement down with her Setaria porridge.

“I know that you are powerful, mighty Ombra,...” I go on, sounding utterly respectful and matter-of-fact.

A quick side glance at Adamah tells me that the girl has no idea who she is facing and where I always spend my holidays.

Speaking aloud again, I say,”... and that Your anger with Her Royal Highness the god queen of Cunabula must be equally powerful.”

The eyes of the entire village are on me by now, young and old folk alike. They all know who my charge is. Some heads even turn towards the nearby hill, fearing a herd ofrancors ridding down to bring death and destruction.

“I seek an audience with Your Greatnessconcerning very urgent and important matters of mine,” I move on.

“I knew it all along. You are a traitor! The worst kind of traitor there is!” Adamah explodes. “You sneaked into all of our hearts all those sun years and now you show your true face. You planned this all along, you filthy cat.”

Actually, I am very sad that I have not come up with this desperate education plan any sooner.

A future god queen needs good judgement and a clear head, free from pride and prejudice. Is there no sense and sensibility in that girl at all?

What has she been doing with the time given to her? Reading books unsuitable for her?

How can she rule if she really believes me to sell her to an enemy?

Adamah does not even know her own society. There is no slavery on Draconis any more.

I do my best not to sigh, even though I am utterly vexed. “With your wisdom, I am sure we can work out an arrangement...,” I address Ombra again, “...which will be mutually beneficial... and enable us to avoid any unpleasant confrontation.”

My old friend gives me a knowing look. If anybody is good at nurturing and educating a child, it is her. She has a bunch of children of her own, fine specimen that she can be very proud of.

Right now I am not very proud at all. Two of the royal serpent-spawn have let me down today. Éleos even more than his twin-sister. Using the Force for cheap mind-tricks is inexcusable.

I draw up my shoulders. “As a token of my goodwill, I represent to you a gift- this girl here.”

Adamah want to jump up at that, but I continue to hold her firmly in my grip.

“She is hard-working and will serve you well.”

Ombra´s deep laughter fills the village campus. She understands.

It is an unfair and dirty trick played on the dauphine, but I have no other choice. Some lessons need to be learned the hard way.

A wild eopiehas to be broken before it can be ridden properly.

 

Because I could not update in December as promised, I make Chapter 17 my one and only January update.

Perhaps Chyntuck would like to have a look at it too, because I at the end of this chapter I managed to hit some special Greek food items:


Dark adapted eyes, Chapter 17:


It takes seven sun weeks for my message to Adamah to sink in. To sum up all the incidents before she showed respectable manners would be too much.

There had been a lot of secret meetings with Ombra, Agathos and Narthex in the evenings. All of them at save distance from the village.

During her daughter's absence Arcānā had not intervened. Her clear interest is to leave a skilled successor, especially when this particular child of hers is Force-blind.

I gaze into the landscape, drenched by rain.

The rain period demands a lot from all the inhabitants of Sendero, including Adamah.

Ombra's people are on the move with their herds of bantha and eopies. We travel to the very edge of the Colour Desert, where the richest grass will grow soon.

It is a journey that changes everything for the future queen of the realm. The hard physical work does Adamah good. Her awareness of her importance as part of a community grows. She sees to all her tasks and she masters them well.

I watch the girl from a distance. Like a lioness hiding in clever ways and yet never letting go. I reveal my presence around dusk.

Adamah runs towards me like little Grianán would. When she is finally aware that the village is standing around us, she lets go of me.

Ombra marches up towards us. I am not very surprised when she gives the girl the royal greeting.

Adamah is stunned and speechless.

“Now you can go home, princess, and never forget that a queen always serves her people as well as she can. She is the only true servant in the realm and therefore everybody else volunteers to help her with her heavy burden. This is why we loved your grandmother, this is why we never would betray your mother and why we did welcome you to live along us.”

Feelings move over the young face of my protégé as quickly as the rain clouds. At last a shy, but honest smile stays. “And for that very welcome and a chance to grow, I thank you with all my heart.”

To my relief she bows in front of us all.

Not even the arrival of her mother in all her royal splendour destroys the magic of the moment.

********************************************************************

The term rancor describes “a feeling of deep and bitter anger and ill-will; hatred; malice”. But actually this description does not suit the three mounts the god queen has brought along.

I regard the large reptilian carnivores as creatures of grace, good-will and absolute loyalty.

Arcānā usually is the bitter one. Perhaps all those Midi-chlorians in her body make her react this way.

After a tender reunification with her mother, I help Adamah to mount her own rancor. “You are a filthy cat, after all then,” the girl whispers, when she passes by. “But very clever. Remind me to never make you that upset with me again, Isa.”

One lesson learned, another one still out in the open. As a royal nanny the work never ends.

“You could not have chosen a better and more spectacular moment to show up, Your Highness,” I address the god queen. “It seems that the rain season just decided to end.”

Arcānā seems strangely at ease. Her face has a healthy colour and her eyes are her own. No dark side shadows lurk in them. “I love sunsets,” she smiles. “After watching the sun go down over the river valley of Cunabula, I thought that I might like to have another one.”

“Did you now, queeny?” I mutter softly, wondering if she can control the weather like the legendary Celestrials.

“Actually, we will have another sunset in a totally different surrounding soon.”

“And where might that be?” I dread the answer, but I cannot escape it.

“We have an invitation to Amnion from Agathos family. My advisers tell me not to make a state affair out of it and go as a family visiting her in-laws.”

“Has your rancor eaten today?” Cold sweat runs over my spine. “Mine certainly could eat some of your advisers. Amnion, sacre bleu! Visiting a water planet!”

********************************************************************

It is not the fish that I mind. I can live with eating them once in a while. Narthex, now in his fifties, is a magician when it comes to exotic and delicious fish dishes. I always eat when he prepares something with love and skill. Never have I come to regret it.

I also like the salty air of Amnions world wide ocean, called Fontis. The smell reminds me of the L'œil du ciel back home.

What I really dislike during our stay at the city state of Polysýndeton is the ocean itself. It terrifies me. There is no way to measure the masses of water that surround us.

Beneath the waves there is a world that I do not know or understand. There are enemies that I cannot see. I know they are there, lurking in the dark, patient, hungry and ever watchful.

Since our arrival on Amnion I have had several visions about two human men and an orange skinned alien creature who were all cramped together in some kind of under water boat. They were attacked by various monsters of the deep sea, one larger than the other. Luckily, they escaped, for each hunter had to face a future as meal of a much bigger opponent in the end.

What if the far away future is not so far away as my visions want to make me believe?

Would those deep sea monsters attack me and the children on a normal cruise out on the water? A cruise that their overenthusiastic host and his family insist on?

Agathos and Narthex seem to notice my distress when the three of us stand at the banister on the large veranda. Outside our guest quarters they enjoy the movement of the waves fifty meters below us. Both men are fully at ease, travellers that have come home for a while to dwell on things dear to them.

“Look, Isa!” Agathos smiles at me. “The great mother river of Cunabula is no comparison to the stunning beauty of the ocean. Fontis is always in motion, even when it seems to lie still, there is movement below the surface.”

When I look down, trying to be polite, my stomach clenches.

I close my eyes and keep them shut, pressing one hand to my mouth.

Agathos keeps speaking, “Sometimes the ocean shows us a tender water ballet and then again it turns into a destructive force.”

Suddenly, there is another stormy ocean in front of my inner eye.

I had seen the future vision coming, but I am not able to stop it.

Long necked alien creatures, that possess an Elfin grace, move through a city of light. The floors and walls seem alive. Contained in glass tubes, embryos mature into boyhood. There are entire hallways being filled with them. The aliens take care that all the human boys learn all that there is to know about being warriors.

“Cloners”, I whisper to myself, my voice overruled by the noises of the ocean. ”They are bloody cloners.”


And there is one man, existing more than a billion times. A fighter, ruthless and cunning. His legacy will be a deadly one to the Children of the Force. After their demise the galaxy will be a much darker place.

My knees give in. The iron banister is of little substance to my claws.

A pair of strong hands grasps my shoulders and support the rest of my body.

“I fear the Marquise is not well,” Narthex informs his master.

I nod slowly and then I let all the contains of my stomach out, hoping it ends up on the head of one of the deep sea monsters.

********************************************************************

After collapsing on a sun chair, I am offered a glass of water. “The sea... it makes me sick,” I explain.

“That much we guessed already,” Narthex muses, pulling me more water. “But I reckon there is more behind it, my dearest Isabeau.”

I give a weak wave with my hand, my real hand. Not the mechanical one that I have since the events surrounding Aréte's death. “I told you guys before that the visions come and go. Some things make sense, some don't.”

Narthex hovers above me with a blanket, putting it over my shivering body. “Was there anything about the ocean that did concern you?”

Then, out of the depths of my mind the monsters of the deep sea rise again. They look even more horrific than ever before. “Pray, are there Opee Sea Killers, Colo Claw Fish and Sando Aqua Monsters in this ocean?”

Both men blink at me in confusion, so I start to describe every detail of those creatures. I gesture lively, using hand and feet.

The blanket slips off my body again and my sickness is forgotten.

There is an unnerving silence when I finish. “Well?”

My question does not possess the effect that I hoped for.

They laugh.

They laugh until the tears from their eyes get lost in their black, bushy beards.

I give my best to appear cool and aloof, feeling younger than nineteen. Actually, I feel as old as the second serpent-spawn: five sun years of age.

Agathos is the first to recover his voice. Still shaking with laughter, he says, “There is nothing down there that comes close to those creatures that you saw with your clairvoyance.”

I raise an eyebrow, staring.

“To be honest, there was nothing at all in the vast ocean before the star ship of our ancestors arrived here. Minor plant life, yes. And some bacteria. So our people started to populate this water world with all the specimen that once existed on Terra.”

My hand fly to my mouth, but this time I only get sick with one single thought, “You are also cloners?”

This accusation makes the men giggle almost girlishly.

For me there is nothing funny about the subject.

Now it is Narthex who finally answers me. “Well, our scientists happen to know a lot about maritime life and genetic engineering. See, the Hydris was the only star ship that actually arrived on the very spot it was supposed to. The Draconis... well you know her history all too well.”

The sun system that I live in is nothing more than a construction by some bored scientists. “The right place,” I mutter dejectedly.

In front of us the sun is still on her lazy rise from her ocean bed. For me it seems that she takes some extra time here. Perhaps she feels more like being on holidays like I do.

The soft humming of an electrical door is followed by the tapping of little feet.

I open my arms and let Grianán jump into them. “Bonjour, ma petité!”

”Bonjouuuuuuuuuuuuuuuur!” the five sun year old shrieks back happily.

Agathos exchanges a look with his secret father-in-law. The valet nods. “Isa, what about having breakfast in town?” he addresses me. “Just the three of us, while the rest of the family is still asleep?”

The last thing that is on my mind right now is food.

“They also sell café at the market.” Narthex grins, showing most of his perfect and shiny teeth. “Black and without sugar. The way the locals love it.”

I grant the two men a big smile.

The taste in my mouth is not the best after the outburst of my stomach. I am grateful that my sari is still clean and nicely in order.

Grianán claps her hands, making a wee-sound. Only now do I notice that she is not wearing her nightgown any longer. She is fully dressed with sandals and all. Even her hair is combed. Something told me that had accomplished that all by herself.

“The Force is strong in you, little one.”

Not for the first time I wonder how quick and clever that girl is.

The third line of the Force mantra, that Éleos had come up with a while ago, crosses my mind, “Passion, yet serenity.”

None of the royal children impersonate those words better than Grianán does. In situations of extreme stress, in which her mother Arcānā might be tempted to react strongly, she stays calm.

Grianán is always focused on her tasks and not on the goal itself. Even though she is able to use her Force powers in defence, I do not fail to notice that she constantly keeps other options open. She seems to observe before reacting. Her young mind is not clouded with the unbridled passion that is so common within the women of her family.

I pat the curly hair that frames her head. In the morning sun her locks glitter like pure gold. Grianán, this is truly a name that fits her pure and shiny nature. I hope with all my heart that Mórag MagUidhir will not extinguish that light forever.

“Then let's go, gentlemen!” I suggest. “I do not wish to add more persons to this family excursion if I can prevent it.”

*******************************************************************

Polysýndeton is an architectural miracle. The city state rests on nine mighty steal columns. Those columns reach down four thousand feet. They are ready to deal with any kind of tension the ocean provides.

In addition the city is anchored to the bottom of the sea with cables tethered like the spokes of a wheel. Very able deflector shields protect the entire construction from gales and mega waves.

From Agathos and Narthex, keen on being my tour guides, I come to know that the city is able to free itself from the constraints and swim away when there is the danger of an underwater volcanic eruption.

“It was never necessary so far here, but our neighbours in Ephípher had to use that technology twice over the past hundred standard years.” Agathos tells me when we reach the large piazza – the very heart of Polysýndeton.

By this time I know all that there is to know about the inhabitants of Amnion. My head is swimming with information. A state that I have not achieved for a very long time. Solitaire, the specially bred and trained clone of royal blood, has been the last person doing that to me.

“So let me see if I got it right,” I say aloud to please both men. “Your people get their electricity out of the solar energy that is stored in the ocean. But the tides themselves also have something called gravitation energy. This is what your scientists call green energy.”

Two greying heads nod happily at me.

“The inhabitants of the eight city states live off the maritime life and water plants, but in addition they have biological laboratories, private green houses and there is of course the interstellar trade with other planets in this sun system.”

For a very brief instant I feel like a little girl again, repeating all my learnt lessons to a patiently listening Luçien.

My heart gives a pang.

Luçien, my step-brother. Once beloved and now my greatest enemy.

A relationship so utterly altered.

“All in all,” I quickly give to consider, “I think I truly earned my café now.”

Narthex cues up at one of the market stands before my last word is spoken.

And Agathos is off to purchase breakfast snacks for all of us at another stand. I have no clue what it all is, but it smells delicious.

Once in a while I have an urgent hunger for sweets. Having feline ancestors makes me a gourmet by birth right.

********************************************************************

We all sit down at the steps of a massive stair case, that lead right up to the temple of Parhelion. His priests claim that he is the one and only true god.

The more I learn about his religion, the more I get confused. Things do not seem to be right. Half-breeds are not accepted by his followers. The power of creation has been given to mankind only. There is no mention of the essential balance or of sharing goods with other beings.

I sip my black café thoughtfully.

Out in the desert one knows all enemies and allies. Here on Amnion such knowledge seems to be a totally different matter.

Praying is also complicated. The temples of the twin moon goddesses on Sapuhru are the Houses of Healing. Each stone city of the hamada has one.In the erg every movement at night is a prayer. Every drop of water cherished, every breath is thanking the goddesses. Loving one's family and the animals is a religious act, too.

I watch Grianán cleaning first her grandfather's beard from cake crumbs and then her father's. Her stern face is almost comical.

How can old Techné Aletheia be a keen supporter of a religion that views her own grand-children as freaks of nature? As unclean creatures and abominations?

My last meeting with Mórag MagUidhir flashes back into my consciousness. She called desert nomads 'a bunch of child thieves' and I had given her that compliment back.

The truth is that my mother's tribe had taken children and grown-ups hostage now and then. It is a custom being born out of necessity.

In times of thirst and hunger mothers are often forced to take desperate measures. A child once laid to rest in the arms of the desert is never to come back, but is well cared for eternally.

To honour its sacrifice and help the clan to prosper again, new members are sought. In contrast to babies or toddlers being caught, grown-ups had to undergo harsh physical trials in order to prove their ability to survive life in the desert. Only the toughest ones, overcoming their injuries, are welcomed into the tribe.

The woman is bound to the traditional trial chair. She is not young any more, has given birth long ago. There are beginnings of silver threads in her dark brown hair. Her humble clothing is dirty and partly ripped. She has three large cuts in her sweaty face. One coming from her scalp, one following the line of the right eyebrow and one splits her right cheek. Her upper lip has a cut and there is one at the corner of her mouth, too. The wounds on her back, made by a whip, are badly infected. She will not make it.

Water is reserved for the living only. It will not be wasted on her. Everybody in the camp knows that her time has come. She is not one of them, yet they want her to softly wane away with her fever dreams. It is better for her. She will not survive the journey back to her moisture farm.

In the beginning she seemed a promising candidate, hard working and with an air of lightness around her. As a former slave she is lean and her body strong from daily farm work. They watched her for a long time, before they considered taking her.

The husband is too old for their purpose, the son is fat with water.

She had come out just before dawn, eager to pick mushrooms that grow on the cursed vaporators. A hunting party had taken her with them.

There had been hard losses among the tribe. Those off-landers, arriving one or two generations ago, have taken land without asking, even demanding a high blood price for it. They are the true animals. The Way has been disturbed by them. Nothing seems holy to them. Neither water nor the desert itself. Things are out of balance ever since their arrival.

The local space port is no problem though, nor are the frog and his scum. Those bandits are at least valuable business partners.

A healer is only sent to a patient when it was worth her time. This woman is waiting for death. It will arrive on silent feet walking stealthily over the dunes.

In the end death will come to all of them.

Grianán makes a shrill sound.

There is no escape.

He is everywhere. His weapon of light moves faster than they can run away. He does not care whom he strikes down in his cold rage.

The women and the children die the same way as the warriors. He makes no exceptions. There is not much blood. The heat of his sabre cauterizes the wounds.

Nearby banthas, being tied to their posts, scream aloud in agony, not able to help their masters.

The entire tribe is erased by the scorn of a young man. He sneaked into their midst like a walking ghost, a phantom of the dune sea.

His shadow will grow and darken the entire universe at one point.

They should not have taken his mother. There will be no forgiveness, just more blood and death.

An angel has fallen, but it had been his choice.

By now the cries of my little ward have gotten more hysteric.

Lost in my visions of the future I spilled my hot coffee on her sandals.

I jump up from the ebony stair and fling the crying child into my arms. Muttering sweet nonsense into her ears, I curse myself for getting lost in the future.

“Just focus on the now and here,” Grianán sniffs.

I stare at her wide eyed. Even though I hold a small child in my arms, I can feel a great representative of the Force standing in front of me.

“Size matters not!” the young princess answers and the way she put her words reminds me of a certain green imp with Elfin ears.

Agathos and Narthex look at me confused and slightly helpless.

I make Grianán comfortable on my artificial arm, that will not get tired too soon. “Let us go back now! I bet Arcānā and the rest of the family is up by now, wondering where we have gone.”

“Second breakfast!” Grianán announces with a grin. “More kok, please!”

“You had enough chocolate rolls already.” Her grandfather reminds her, smiling sweetly. “You will have a serious stomach problem if you go on like this.”

“Then kataifi, please! Caramel and vanilla.” Grianán beams from ear to ear. “Not chocolate. No stomach pain.”

I roll my eyes and Agathos does just the same.

Highly accomplished in the Force or not, Grianán is a child with the same urges and flaws that normal children have.

 

Exciting updates with the visions of death and destruction

 

"Highly accomplished in the Force or not, Grianán is a child with the same urges and flaws that normal children have."

This could be dangerous for her too. Welcome back Azure.