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

That last sentence is so very Isabeau again, great stuff!

The end section reads like a calm, but one before a storm, and the training the kids get seems good, with some structure, but it also, in that context, feels like it is building reserves before the seven plagues of Egypt - especially since Grianan is such a special kid, and asks for physical excercise - what does she know?

 

DarthUncle: I refrain from singing the smurf song right now. I fear *uses Sheev Palpatine voice* you have to wait until the BELTANE weekend is over.

 

Elves are warriors and they stay in shape.
Nice update

 

earlybird-obi-wan: Nice observation!

 

You truly expand the boundries of Star Wars galaxy spiecies. Your takes on them are very unique Azure. Great imagination.

 

Thanks for saying something that nice, Darth_Furio.

I definitely will finish this story, but I think that I will stop most of my other projects soon. They are more and more like my art thread, a garden that is unwanted and better should stay secret.

 

That's sad to hear, but untrue IMHO. There are those that enjoy your art, I'm one of them.

 

That is also kind of you to say, Darth_Furio.

 

Next update next weekend.

 

Darth_Furio: Because you are such a fan of this with earlybird-obi-wan & DarthUncle!


Chapter 21:

One fine morning, when I am in the middle of some caporeia exercises with Daná and Grianán, a strange glow catches my attention. I gaze towards the river and I spot a familiar shape at the shore.

“Tu veux rire!” I gasp. You must be kidding me!

I signal the six year old girls to move on without me. They know exactly what to do: 'Bridge Ups'. Those have to be followed by 'Bridge Jumps' and 'Monkey Flips'. Each exercise comes with three rounds and eight reps for each round.

In no particular haste I saunter towards the blue shimmering figure. “Is there a thing like a Force ghost?” I ask.

Arcānā grants me her brightest smile, looking a bit cheeky. “I guess there is. Otherwise I would not be here, would I now?”

“Ghosts are supposed to haunt people and be a pain in the ass,” I suggest levelly.

“I did that when I was still alive. Now I go for something new. I try to spread wisdom.”

“Enlighten me!” I roll my feline eyes. “But do not speak in riddles. I hate riddles. Also try not to be the harbinger of new deaths in the family.”

“The future is always in motion, as you know best.”

“I suppose,” I state, smirking. “Why are you here? Just to enjoy the morning air?”

She shakes her shiny head. “I am just here to say good-bye. Soon I will be one with the Force vortex.”

“It has a vortex?” My enthusiasm is very low about this announce. There is a hell after all. “Do I really want to know?”

“What you want to know is: a storm is coming.”

“Great, trouble is ahead for us and you decide to have an ever lasting holiday inside some silly vortex.” I keep my anger in check as best as I can. “How thoughtful of you.”

“Isabeau, you have faced him before. Nobody can deal better with him than you can.” Arcānā seems not to be crossed with me. “I trust you to make the right decisions. May the Force be with you... always!”

With that the former god queen of Cunabula vanishes. There is just the ancient river making its way through the river valley and mangroves.

“Perfect”, I mutter, “just perfect.”

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Daná and Grianán are still busy doing their shoulder and back acrobatics, when I come back. Every movement of theirs is graceful.

When they are about to finish their last exercise, the 'Monkey Flips', I decide to speak to them. “Do me one favour! If you ever die, do not waste your time on useless visits from the Netherworld of the Force.”

“Isa.” Grianán turns her pale face towards me. “Mother also appeared to each of us with messages and words of love.”

Daná throws in, “One thing that matters is that Luçien is coming.”

“Nonsense. He would never dare.”

“Actually Agathos invited him,” a smooth voice comments

Behind the girls Narthex shows up, clinging to his walking stick.

I shake my pointer finger at the elderly human. “Agathos would never do such a stupid thing.”

“Luçien has regular contact with him since the events of Polysýndeton. They write each other on a weekly basis.” Narthex reveals, his voice calm and even. “I never did mention it before though. There was no need to upset you.”

“Upset me?” I laugh haughtily. “Letter writing seems to be the favourite hobby of this family. Is anybody else writing letters to unacceptable persons?”

“His Lordship seems really sorry about the death and destruction that he has caused.”

“And how exactly does he intend to close the wounds? Send flowers? Write poems? Erect a temple? Crawl up the holy pyramid on his knees?”

“Actually he wants to help dad as a personal secretary,” Grianán gives to consider, eyeing me with interest.

Gray mists dance in the girl's unusual iris. The toddler cuteness has vanished from her facial lines. Her fine bones show the promise of great beauty. She wears nothing but a bright green scarf around her hips. Her golden hair is done in many little braids as it is the fashion of the inhabitants of the Mare Coloris.

“Is there more writing to be done?” My fingers transform to claws. While I speak my fangs shoot out. “I can help Agathos here, you know.”

“Isabeau,” Narthex addresses me very tenderly. “The latest results of Agathos' heart tests are not the best. The medical team is not satisfied that he does not agree to a transplantation. Therefore Luçien has agreed to be his personal healer in secret and to be his secretary in public.”

“This plan lacks of any logic. I will not allow you guys to go through with it. There is no way that I will ever accept my cursed step-brother as a member of the court. Not even if you want to have men's evenings with water pipes and card games.”

Daná raises her chin, in a way that reminds me of her mother. “One has to keep one's friends close and one's enemies even closer.”

“You do not wish to have something like him at all at the royal court.”

I gave the girl, that is all muscles and bones, a sour smile. She never will be such an unnatural beauty as her sister. But she will make heads turn around to her anyway. She is fresh and energetic. There is not a single day when we do not disagree to something. Her love for me is unconditional though.

“Listen, Daná! Luçien is a trained assassin and the user of dark powers, even though he tries to convince himself that he serves the light side of the Force.”

Comparing Ankoù and MagUhidir in my mind, I find a lot of unpleasant parallels. Perhaps they had been good once, but had been corrupted without even noticing it. Each decision to fight the darkness had made matters even worse.

“I want a family conference about it. Now!” I decide.

“There will be no need.” Narthex voice has a regretful edge. “His ship has just landed here.”

“Merci, merci beaucoup!” I roar. Thank you, thank you very much.

Then I start to sprint down the steps and made a leap into the muddy river water.

Daná, Grianán and Narthex are calling for me, but I stay under the surface until my lungs almost collapse.

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(To be continued!)

 

I think I'd also want to surprise Isa, would I want to make her accept Lucien landing there. Lovey scenes, dialogs.

And thus does Lucien come back into the story. I wonder if maybe this time he'll find he likes healing, and trains himself in it instead of in dark arts.

 

DarthUncle: Ah but THAT would not be realistic, my love! He is the reason why Anakin Skywalker is such a slow learner and arrogant. A family trait.

Anyway, thanks for finding time to read AND comment so nicely. But please do not neglect your mother for my sake! Or, even worse, spent no time with your twin if he still be around with his wife.

But than again, a certain woman would leave you no space, time or rest once you are back home!

Well, enjoy reading then!

There is more, because you made me! Cem laughed a lot on the phone when I told her how determined you are to keep me writing.

 

Yes Lucien is back and I like to see what's he up to. Keep on writing

 

earlybird-obi-wan: You know that the source material is there until book 4. Just need to re-write some stuff! So, no worries there! I was just upset about my new projects (= the vignettes, challenges & drabbles). But DarthUncle & Kahara are also seeing it your way. And I know that Darth Gangrenous, who is always shy commenting on fanfic, loves this one here. So does Darth_Furio, a damned good writer, too.

 

Wow, Isu is really taking Lucien's return hard, This will hopefully be the beginning of her evolution into a hero.

 

Darth_Furio: Isa herself would not define herself as a hero. She would claim that she does what needs to be done!

 

This is fascinating. I like Isa and Grianán. Luçien is very Sithly.

 

Cowgirl Jedi 1701: Wow, it really surprises me to find you in this dusty old thread of mine, that only some die-hards and sith lovers cherish. Even though this plays out in a time long before the Old Republic, the Sith Order or even the Jedi.

Ages ago, Lucien made it best villain. Non of my current bad boys seems to be able to keep up with him. Neither sinister Sheev nor capricious Krennic.

As for Isa, she was always one of a kind. As unpredictable as a true kitty cat and inspired by the work of actress Billie Piper.

Grianán drove my first beta, glorious SWpants crazy at times with her eagerness to sacrifice herself for the soul rescue of others. A Skywalker strength & flaw at the same time.

At times I am not sure if I really should continue re-posting, but readers as Darth_Furio, earlybird-obi-wan, Darth Gangrenous & my husband DarthUncle are keen to read on. And I cannot let them down.

 

That caring about others thing does seem to be common to all the Skywalkers. Even when they don't want to admit it. (I'm looking at you, Darth Vader & Kylo Ren!) Maybe Grianan is one of Shmi's ancestors. The way Shmi manages to hold her head up high, even though she's a slave, it would be fitting if she turned out to have a smidgen of royal blood in her veins.

 

Cowgirl Jedi 1701: If I say anything I would spoiler you without any mercy.

I will try to update on Sunday!

 

I can't wait!

 

I try my best this weekend, Cowgirl Jedi 1701, because I looked at my old text last weekend (Sunday evening) and I did not like it any more. But I was too worn out to come up with anything new and reasonable. I even had trouble to be satisfied with my drabbles.

 

Okay, here it is, uncorrected by DarthUncle yet.

If you can spot any grave mistakes Darth_Furio, Darth Gangrenous, earlybird-obi-wan, Kahara and Cowgirl Jedi 1701, please tell me!


(Still Chapter 21)

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Not much later I find myself standing inside the heart of the royal pyramid. The windowless yet spacey chamber is well-lit by blue crystals. Everything around me screams classy and expensive. The furniture is made of rich mahogany wood. Built-in wardrobes fill most of the space.

“This used to be mother's dressing-room,” Grianán explains, “But she hardly was in here. The crypts were more to her liking.”

“Tu rigoles?” I snort. You must be kidding!

I spot a massive treasure chest. It's in the centre of the stone chamber. I can see no keyhole or other visible opening mechanism. “And this is her little jewel case, right?”

Grianán, still standing in the door frame, nods. With a little turn of her wrist she casually opens the chest's lid. It is one of her many Force tricks that I have forbidden her to use in her training sessions. Capoeira is a Dance of War, an approach to life. There is no use to show off with unnatural powers. No cheating of any kind.

I step closer to the chest, while the girl remains where she is.

Cascades of diamonds, rubies, sapphires, emeralds and amethysts bedazzle my eyes.

My breath stutters raggedly and I run my tongue over my bottom lip.“Sacré bleu!” I let out, while starring at the riches of House Tjiehenet. Holy blue!

Throughout her life Arcānā had worn simple cotton saris and barely any jewellery, constantly defying the fact that she had been the richest women of the entire sun system.

I sink down on an elegant rug, supposedly llama wool. “My step-mothers would murder one another for the privilege to be in this room. Those are the crown jewels, right?”

“There are yours until Celestris is off age. You can wear them any time. My siblings and I talked about it last night.”

At random I pick up a gold-plated chain and study it with an intensity, as if it was a hieroglyphic text.

It has been ages since I last thought of Flor and all the other deadly chasseuses of House Ankoù. There are so many things of my childhood that I am desperate to forget. Especially all the grooming and efforts of my step-family to turn me into a true lady. Luçien should have meddled with those memories instead.

Slender fingers slide up my shoulders, remain there. “Please let me do your hair!” Grianán begs.

I reach out for the girl and once my fingers twine with hers, I tug her down to the floor with me. Straight onto my lap. “Are you sure that is a good idea?”

She nods.

I delve my fingers into her Rasta pigtails and start twisting two of them around my knuckles. “We are already late.”

“You are the current regent of this planet,” Grianán says. “Mother made you by announcing you Holy Consort. Therefore you can do anything that pleases you.”

A predatory smile slides over me like the smoothest silk. “What about executing Ankoù for high treason?”

Uncomfortable with my proposal, the girl fidgets. “This is the only thing you are not allowed to do, Isa. It would be against the rules of hospitality.”

“We could check if Luçien has a heart after all,” I give to consider. “Just give me a traditional jade knife. Let us have a little peak inside his chest!”

Grianán shakes her head. “Father is very proud of our peace treaty with your home world.”

Heat infuses my entire body. “Peace,” I bite out. “Peace is a lie.”

Even after so many years the mere thought of Sapuhru still makes my stomach flip. And so I quote the words that my mother once taught me. Pearls of wisdom my entire nomad tribe used to know. The war mantra of House Riwalan.

“Peace is a lie. There is only passion.
Through passion I gain strength.
Through strength I gain power.
Through power I gain victory.
Through victory my chains are broken.”

The girl reaches out for my face, frames it with her hands. “The Force shall free me,” she adds with a confident smile.

I give her a rueful gaze. “That sentence is not part of the oral tradition by people had.”

“Traditions change when life itself changes.” Grianán leans in on me. “To become an attractive person in the time of my honoured ancestors, you would want your ears and nose and lips pierced, your teeth filed into patterns, and your body tattooed and painted.”

I give her hair a slight tug again, annoyed by her attempt to distract me this way. “You would not dare!”

She giggles.

I let go of her and shoo her out of my lap. “Nothing fancy,” I decide. “With my hair, I mean.”

“Of course not!”

Soon, I allow the girl to smooth out my unruly hair. She uses a local shell hair comb for her self-imposed task. For her this beauty treatment is far more relaxing than it is for me. I let her continue though.

Grianán sparkles in a special way when she is filled with joy. I cherish those little moments with her.

“What's with the blue crystals?” I ask after a while, keen on hearing her lovely voice.

“Oh, you mean the Kaiburr crystals,” she answers. “They are Force-attuned and can be found all over the planet. Especially here on Cunabula.”

My upper lip works up and down, while I ask myself if the midi-chlorians have managed to contaminate all known life on Draconis. Mammals, plants, reptiles, stones – nothing seems to be safe from their corruption.

“It's called a symbiosis,” Grianán says faintly.

My brows draw together and my lips tighten. “What you just did is called 'thought espionage'. Let's be clear about this at least, n'est-ce pas?”

No matter how often I tell the royal bunch to stay out of my mind, they plunge into it over and over again. Sure they are able telepaths, but I want them to stick to interpersonal rules. Force users should be more respectful towards normal mortals.

“You did not always hate Luçien,” Grianán says without warning. “There was a time when you worshipped him.”

I squeeze my eyes shut, keeping a lid on my anger. “Leave it!”

“Would you mind to open yourself to me?” the girl begs me, her voice laced with concern. “I would like to understand.”

“This honours you, but still avails nothing. My step-brother is a book with seven seals.” I stretch my legs out, yawning like a true feline being. “Perhaps it is just my pride and my prejudices, ma petité. And he is the good person that your father believes him to be.”

“All knowledge is worth having,” she whispers softly, yet content. “I want to understand why.”

“Sometimes it is better to leave things be and go on with your life. The search for answers can drive you mad. I almost went mad when I was taught the secrets of life.”

“I need to know anyway,” Grianán insists calmly.

“Knowledge can destroy a person,” I warn her.

“By fire, by earth, by water and by air, I swear that I want this.”

Calling the four elements as witnesses is a strong vow. Not one to be given lightly.

“I hope you never regret this,” I speak softly.

“None of us are without a fault.”

“Including you, Grianán?”

I just said that to tease her, but she draws a very harsh breath. Her hands stop in mid-air. “I am the worst of all, this is why I must be good,” she speaks in a trembling tone of voice. “If I ever choose for the dark side it will have terrible consequences. But choose I must, sooner or later. We both know that.”

Her maturity scares me at times.

Suddenly, the stone door opens and from the corner of my eyes I see two small shapes tumbling inside.

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

I recognize the newcomers by their odour immediately: feisty Aranea and peaceful Mora. Being Grianán's best friends they are always but a hand's breadth away. Especially here on the Holy Isle.

“A importância de equilibrio,” I comment bluntly. The importance of balance.

My words turn the giggling girls into well-behaved students immediately.

“Can we help you to get a real make-over, magistra?” the six-year-old Mora asks politely. Her heart is about to beat out of her chest.

In a training session I would have given them a hard time for so much impertinence, but right now I have leisure time and, most of all, I am bemused. “Rasta style is not my thing.”

“Let Ankoù see that you are one of us now!” Aranea, almost twelve years of age, blurts out. “You owe him nothing.”

I reach out for my amulet. It is carved out of the wood of a palm tree and has the tribal sign of the House Riwalan on it.

Since the day my mother committed suicide, unwanted Ankoù off-spring planted in her womb by old Alezan, I wear it around my neck. The leather chain has been changed countless times, but the pendant itself is as beautiful as ever.

“Do your worst, girls!” I sigh.

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

Aranea, Mora and Grianán almost swoon when they behold the end product of their hard work. “You look wonderful,” the latter says. “Like a dream come true.”

“As long as I do not look like an angel, that is okay for me,” I joke. “For I like myself best alive and rooted in the ground.”

My fingers glide over my new bask corset. Once I had seen Arcānā wearing one those for an official ritual in the Mare Coloris, the Colour Desert.

My breasts feel weird being pushed up like that. It looks slightly indecent.

“The Queen Mother does not look like an angel,” Mora cuts in. “She is blue when she appears. Recently, she got a vague edge though. I was the first to notice.”

Grianán exchanges a quick glance with at her second-oldest friend. “The Force calls for Mother. She will be one with the Force vortex soon.”

I roll my eyes, hoping that my mascara will not smear. “Please give your best to never end up there, ma petité!”

She laughs at me, sweet and carefree.

I gaze into the mirror again.

Wearing my hair in braids had never entered my mind before. It looks familiar, yet strange. But I like what I see.

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

(To be continued!)

 

Love what the girls are doing with her

 

If I recall correctly, that sounds like the Sith (per)version of the Jedi Code.