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

Isa would say she is a war hostage. Agathos would say she is a witness and honoured guest. And Lucien would say, like the mean Duke in "Moulin Rouge" : "I do not like the ending!"

 

As I said in my other current fanfic about Palpatine´s niece, the kindergarten teacher Nagina, I have a busy weekend ahead. So I do take the time to update tonight. (With temperatures up to 31 degrees Celsius I could not picture myself with the other women at the weekly sauna meeting tonight!)

Tell me if you do NOT want to be tagged for an update of this particular story:

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@earlybird-obi-wan
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@WarmNyota_SweetAyesha
Chyntuck

So here is the 3rd part of Chapter 9:


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When I awake it is pitch dark outside. The jungle is rather alive. Creatures jump and fly through the night. Above all hangs the exotic smell of ginger blossoms.

I am still in the living-room. Narthex seems to have decided to let me sleep in here, with a blanket draped over me. At least Vicomte Ankoù is no where to be seen, but I better check out his whereabouts.

Barefoot, I get up and sneak through the house.

In the master bedroom I hear Senator Aletheia snore happily in his bed.

The guest bedroom, where Vicomte Ankoù is supposed to be, is empty.

I shake my head in dismay and move on.

Narthex is not in his bed either. I hear the muffled sound of his voice from outside.

“I am very sorry, Your Highness, but young Ankoù left hours ago. An urgent mission requires his attention. There was no need to inform you, I hope.”

Arcānā is not d’accord. “He sneaks out on me like a thief in the middle of the night. This is against protocol.”

“It is a mission of life and death.”

“Life? Since when does he possess any life giving qualities?” she spits.

“His basic training was that of a Force healer, a beaton. Not even the honoured Mistress Yeotenn could have foreseen...”

“His fall from grace?”

The dauphine races up and down the veranda, reminding me of a trapped animal. But Narthex seems to be in no danger from her. For some reason this humble man keeps her anger within at bay. Like the lid of a cookery pot is a barrier for boiling water.

“That holocron was as dear to me. And so was its owner.”

“I see. This is why you send Solitaire straight into the lion’s den. Just to get murdered. I wonder what your understanding of love is.”

Arcānā blinks at the master valet, lacking for words.

I hear dangerous rustles in the surrounding jungle, see shapes move.

“Hold!” the dauphine bellows into the night. “This man is no danger nor is he insulting me. He is just my father. My silly, useless father.”

Whatever lurks in the dark, it draws back from the bungalow, but it is still out there.

“Dad,” Arcānā says very softly, “I do appreciate all that you have done for this family so far, but do not trifle with me.”

“Is this a death threat?” He looks back at her evenly.

The dauphine wrings her hands. “Simply a kind warning.”

“And is it you speaking or Mórag, your dark mistress?”

“She has no power over me.” Defiance is written all over Arcānā.

As tension is growing, I creep back into my own room and sink onto my sofa again.

Happy families are a rare species in this universe. Besides, their conflict with one another had kept them both so busy that they had not been aware of me. Perhaps the Force dulls the natural senses. Too many Midi-chlorians that have to be taken care of.

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

The next morning I am alone in the kitchen. I pour myself café from an Amnionian thermos pot. The sturdy mug in my hand feels so real, so good. I use some breathing techniques, Solitaire had me study, to settle down my fast heart beat.

My ancestors are from the Mother Jungle. There are no reasons why I cannot get used to it. I must simply allow my new environment to penetrate me, to become part of my soul. The less I will fight against my heritage, the greater my survival chances will be. It is as simple as that.

I lean my brow against the panorama window.

The Holy Isle of Cunabula is a wondrous place. It is more jungle than city, more wilderness than civilization. Plants and buildings seem to form a strange symbioses. The Unifying Force, in which Solitaire believed, seems to be everywhere, sending its breath to all the crude matter and changing it into something more.

Suddenly, I fall out of the threads of time.

The return of peace to the realm is celebrated throughout the city. Everybody on the big piazza is cheerful about the hard-won victory. There has been much death and destruction.

Close to the girl in white with by far too much make-up on her face stands a man in blue garments. He is a gentleman at his prime, looking very amiable. An air of confidence and friendliness is all around him. Yet his eyes are as dark as his robes. And the heart in his chest is the darkest thing on that bright day.

A voice next to me makes me jump with fright.“Milady? Is there anything that I can do for you?”

I bet Narthex is more than a mere manservant. The way he sneaked up on me, he must be a trained assassin. There is no doubt about that.

“That will not be necessary. I already helped myself to some café.”

“How very good of you, milady.” There is something in his brown eyes that is not easy to judge.

Weighing my chances, I go for an honest approach. “I am to understand that
Vicomte Ankoù is gone?”

His eyebrows go up, but not for long. “His Lordship is on a mission for my master. He did not want to wake you up when he left. It did not seem appropriate to him.”

“He would really go all the way to Amnion for a niece of the Prince Consort?”

Narthex remains silent.

I decide to speak out what is really on my mind. “I also could not help to overhear that your daughter is oppressed by a powerful Force user. Someone that goes by the name of Mórag?”

His pupils widen.

“Arcānā pities me. I know how much strength it costs to be a person on one’s own account. Especially with a darksider in the family.”

“Please let us have some spice biscuits for now. I had no breakfast this morning.” Unasked, Narthex pours me more café. “The senator and your noble brother will not be back before noon. They are fishing together.”

I cannot help it, but a deep and very intimate sound of comfort escapes me.

Narthex gives me a happy look, finally granting himself some café. He takes very small sips.

The silence between the two of us is perfect. It is soothing and reassuring. I bathe in it. For a while. There is this strange odour I cannot blank out that easily.

“May I ask you something, Narthex? What is this smell? Did you lose somebody dear to you? Has your daughter killed anyone around here?”

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

The look in the master valet’s eyes turns dark at my request. His answer comes out careful though. “I hope my story will help you to judge my daughter Arcānā right, milady.”

A good story is always welcome at a nomad camp fire. It sharpens the senses, widens the horizon. To understand matters grants survival in the desert.

If I am to survive my exile here on Draconis and Arcānā’s temper, I need to understand.

Narthex gazes out of the large panorama window where the night shadows gather. He takes a long, considerate sip from his mug, before he starts his story. “God queen Tamisra and I met on a market place on my home world, where I did the daily shopping for the senator’s household. I did not know who she was or what she was.”

His voice is dreamy, loaded with strong images from the past.

“How she spotted me in the crowd and singled me out, I do not know. My shopping bags fell out of my hands for no reasons. Their content was suddenly rolling all over the market place. I did not know much about telekinesis or any other Force skill back then. And Tamisra was a born actress. She helped me to clear the mess and accompanied me home. We did not touch. We did not kiss. We simply smiled at one another. I did not even ask for her name. All I could do was looking into her green eyes that shone so bright.”

Knowing some Ophidea by now I ask myself how much it had taken the queen mother to act that innocent.

“We made an appointment for the next day, because it was the weekend and I was off from my duties. Agathos had some family matters to attend to without me. He even did lend me his personal boat. As for Tamisra: she had a decoy acting for her as god queen. I found out about it much later.”

I pour myself some more café with a smug grin.

“During our second night together out on the ocean we were very close and I forgot all what I had learned about the mind being the master of the body.” From the tone his voice went Narthex had the time of his life on that boat. “I insisted I’d marry her, but she denied. The concept of marriage is not known to her people. The next morning I woke alone on a boat in the middle of the ocean. I was totally taken aback. As quick as she had entered my life, she vanished from it again.”

He falls silent.

I wait several heartbeats, before asking, “When were you reunited with the god queen?” I ask him softly.

“We never were.”

I frown. “Why not?”

 

Super with the intensity from Arcana and reminiscences and serene moments with Narthex.

 

Well, WarmNyota_SweetAyesha, darksiders can be pretty intense. Take Kylo Ren for example. I have a girlish crush on him, even though this goes against all logic. And it also turns me into a disloyal Vader fan-girl. Sigh!

As for Narthex: you need persons like him in every good SW story.

 

For anyone wondering why AzureAngel2 isn't very responsive at the moment:
no Internet & telephone, as a fire in one of the basements of the house where our apartment is, caused cable to burn through.

Everyone is ok, neighbours bonded over cleaning 'Innenhof' today and sat down for drink there afterwards, but not yet clear when we'll get our connectivity back.

And when I say 'we', ähm, that's Azure I guess , as I'm still in the Netherlands this week for business related reasons . With Internet. Feel a bit sorry about that, at present.

Good thing she already updated on Thursday!

On the update:
What an intriguing Universe, and set of characters have you created. I feel quite a drama behind Narthex quiet, calm and mostly composed exterior. Indeed, why not?
... So you did slip in another cliffhanger! Wonder what earlybird-obi-wan will think of that

 

DarthUncle I respond with cliffies of course in my stories. And hope the internet will get back soon

 

Thanks for the announcement, dear husband DarthUncle. Now internet is back, yeah!

earlybird-obi-wan, here is the next update:



Dark adapted eyes, Chapter 10:

The morning air is unbearably thick and leaves a film of sweat on my skin. I am soaked through when we finally reach a spot that is guarded by pure-blood Ophidiae.

All of them are heavily armed with bows, swords, daggers and blow pipes. Is it possible that they are part of Arcānā’s mysterious shadow guard? Their lidless eyes rest on us in cold, watchful ways when we pass them, but they do neither approach us nor address us. A fact that I am glad of.

My neck hair stands up and every fibre of my body is highly alerted. Any wrong movement and we will be dead in an instant.

We walk over to a small plaza that is framed by standing stones. Narthex comes to a halt and touches one of the ornamented columns next to him.

A strange glass cubicle rises from the ground, lit by green orbs.

Even though my stomach feels close to explode I step inside the cubicle.

I let the master valet hold my hand when the lift starts to vanish into the earth again.

Then there is so much light that it hurts my eyes. Automatically, I cover them with one of my hands.

“We are inside the Draconis now, the ship that once came from Terra,” Narthex explains in no great haste. “It crashed down into the jungle centuries ago. Right in front of the great pyramid. It was considered as a sign of the Unifying Force. So it was never moved.”

I know about underground cities on my own home planet, but I have never seen such strange beauty. Big eyed I gape around.

“This is the heart of their culture. The Ophidiae store all the records of the lost human home world in this facility.” He makes a displeased sound. “The famous underground laboratories are also down here. Genetical experiments, research for artificial limbs, you name it.”

“The zombies?” I prompt.

His expression is grave. “No, you will find the rest of their plague in the royal crypts only. Powerful Force magic and an old pact with the Living hinders them to come forth.”

It should make my heart lighter to hear thus, but it does not.

There is also something else that makes me jumpy. What I experience all around me is more than the remains of a star ship. All my senses tell me that I have entered something alive. Strange sensations fill my brain, not threatening, but intense.

“Come now, we better go to the place where Tamisra... rests,” Narthex announces softly.

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

The master valet leads me through long corridors and great hallways. We pass decently dressed Ophidea women of mixed blood. They wear white, coat-like dresses.

Narthex and I are ignored by everybody in a friendly way until we enter a district that is surrounded by glass as white as bantha milk.

“Where do you think you are taking this thing, Narthex?”

A tall woman saunters towards us. She wears a yellow gown and her skin is ornamented with many tattoos. To look at them leaves an imprint in my mind. They are like snakes that move. I remember the vision I had many moon weeks ago. The one about Arcānā giving birth. The half-blood in front of me is a high priestess of the snake goddess.

Narthex starts arguing with the woman in the language of the Holy Isle. I have a different agenda.

My right hand moves towards the scanner, which guards the entrance to Tamisra’s sickbed.

I have my own legacy here. My first physical contact with the royal holocron has given me a special burn-mark. One that cannot be erased. And I bet that Vicomte Ankoù has tried over and over again. For him it is a sign of my shame. To me it is an entrance ticket.

Smiling to myself, I place my palm on the scanner.

The bioscanner does its work and the door slides open.

There she is, the god queen Tamisra Cruor Tjiehenet.

I swallow hard.

She is not what I have expected.

I press a hand against my mouth, trying to calm myself.

Narthex and the high priestess enter behind me. There is no need for me to turn around. I can hear how the Ophidiae is silenced by a soft raise of the master valet’s hand.

“What happened?” I am not able to take my eyes off the sad remains of what had been once a woman’s body.

“Force lightning,”comes Narthex unceremonious reply.

“Was she... in the line of fire when it happened?”

“Tamisra tried to stop our daughter frying everybody else in the throne room.”

“I see.” It is good to know what Arcānā is capable of. “And did your daughter stop?”

“When Tamisra’s features melted from her skull, Arcānā regained her conscience.” The emotion is lacking of his voice. He taught himself to tell this part of the story as a matter-of-fact. “She was screaming louder than her mother did, I was told later by a confidential source.”

“Why is Tamisra still left alive?” I frown.

The high priestess shrieks and rush forward to attack me, but I lift my right palm and hold it in front of my chest. “It would be foolish to try to kill me, dominae mea. Solitaire taught me well.”

“Solitaire?” The woman is completely taken aback.

“Yes.” I nod solemnly. “I accepted her as my mistress not shortly after her unnatural death through Vicomte Ankou’s hand.”

“A dark acolyte.” Now the high priestess beams. “What a fortunate coincidence!”

“Call me what you want.” My voice is as cool as the artificial air that is put through the regal lungs by a machine. “I answer to nobody but my own conscience.”

“You are indeed Solitaire’s acolyte.” The high priestess vanishes with a mysterious smile.

Narthex grants me a sad look. “I should have known.”

I shrugged my shoulders. “I am what I am. There is no point in denying it. Once a choice is made in the desert, as it was by me, it is a choice for life. And you would not be here with me, Narthex, if love, compassion and pity would not be your motives. I have my own.”

His brown eyes drill into mine. “And the dark side?”

I laugh. “I just learned fighting skills from Solitaire and would not be shown anything else.”

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

We have a great lunch, Narthex and I. There is soup as a starter: Avgolemono, with lemon and chicken meat.

A salad arrives, containing tomatoes, sliced cucumbers, onion, feta cheese and olives.

Soon the master valet serves the main dishes. I like the souvlaki best. It is an Amnionian speciality made with tender cuts of meat. There are also snails, baked pasta dishes with a filling, mussels, oven-baked ratatouille and fried squid rings.

The dessert – sesame seed candy – brings everything to a wonderful ending.

Narthex and I toast to one another. I am the one saying the blessing. “To honesty and the light side of the Force!”

“Are you sure that Solitaire had no hidden agenda with you?” he inquires, his eye brows drawn together.

“Her agenda was love. She loved your daughter with all her might. A love like her inspires.”

“Love.” He sounds bitter all of a sudden. “Let me show you more examples of the love my daughter has shown to us lately.”

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

His right hand is cramped around his mug, when the master valet leads me through the bungalow. After some turns we enter a small room, where I can see an empty glass box with cables attached to it. The power is shut off.

“It is the incubator of my grandson Aconite. The Unmentionable.”

“I am sorry for your loss,” I quip up.

“Oh, he’s not dead. Not yet.” The shadow of a smile appears on his lips. “He is with my niece on Amnion. She lost her own child recently. With his olive taint and his dark curls he will fit in straight away.”

Now I know where Vicomte Ankoù went. But it was never about a niece of the prince consort. I must have misunderstood.

“I heard the boy wailing inside the holy birth cave. Agathos and I exchanged but one look. It was clear to us that something was amiss. Then we both ran inside, ignoring our own security. Nobody did stop us though. But they did not help us either. The Untouchables do not exist for the Ophidiae.”

This confession mirrors the nomad traditions of the dune sea. When somebody loses his face, he becomes an outcast of the tribe. Like a ghost, that person will be invisible forever more. It is never done to children though. Especially not to a newborn baby.

“What if the boy is strong in the Force?” There is this foreboding in me. “It is strong in your family. Even I can sense that.”

He strokes through his curly beard. “Aconite is not strong in the Force at all. In that respect he is somewhat crippled. This is perhaps why my daughter was never keen on him in the first place.”

“Thanks for being so open with me, Narthex.” Suddenly, I feel the pulse of a light. It is hard to ignore. “What is that?”

“To explain a phenomena like Grianán is difficult.” The master valet’s eyes turn dreamy. “I better introduce her to you. The inquisitive mind of my granddaughter is hard to be contained. Her thoughts leak out like ticklish sunbeams now and then.”

I hear my mother’s voice speaking into my head. She uses the same words as before.

“The belonging you seek is not behind you. It is ahead.”

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

(To be continued!)

 

Tell me if you do NOT want to be tagged for an update of this particular story:

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Chapter 9 p1: I'm happy Isa has some like Narthex to listen to her during her transition.

Chapter 9 p2: I tend to think that Isa might be in a situation that she doesn't fully understand.

Chapter 9 p3: I like Arcana. My Darker side always taking the forefront.

Chapter 10: Great descriptions of the underground labs and I like Isa's confidence in herself.

 

Isa is meeting and seeing a lot of people and things.
Narthex is nice guiding her

 

Darth_Furio: I knew you would go for the darksider and perhaps I might have some more of them in stock of you. Ups, spoiler alert!

earlybird-obi-wan: Once Narthex was a stranger in a strange land, too. Even a stranger on a strange planet. He sees it as his duty to help. Plus, he likes Isa for the person that she is.

 

Well, glad to read that - now I can come home

You know, that's how I felt last week Friday in Hanover while waiting for a train to take me to the Netherlands

So much to take in, and to comment on. Or not For now, it's interesting how she reveals an inner strength and acceptance of who she is here.That last sentence, very Isabeau.

love (and lack of giving/understanding it, and its value) seems to be a recurring theme in your stories. Intriguing.

I'll have to comment on the rest of the text later.

 

Awww, even after a long hard and tough day in the Netherlands you found time to read my stuff & comment!



Love in all its forms, dear husband DarthUncle is always a good theme for a story.

 

another service announcement:

So, our internet has been down since Thursday afternoon - apparently nothing to do with the fire, just 'a central network failure' that's been going on for days now. We can go online via the neighbours' hotspot (same cable/internet provider, but theirs works!? means at least some connectivity), though it is a bit clumsy - so Nicole hasn't been online. Though she could, if she put the effort in, I think

 

THIS hot spot is unsafe, DarthUncle and you know it.

Plus I had trouble getting on-line via it and my nerves are shaken. Besides, I get up every 5 minutes and gaze out of the window, fearing an invasion via gang members and/ or drug dealers. Via the entrance door of the flat building. Who knows how many times they really came inside by now!

Anyway a quick update:


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

The royal pyramid gleams like gold in the morning light. After a long ascent of more than four hundred stairs, we enter the royal bed chamber. It is a lofty room with no walls, but lined with stone columns. Colourful panels of fabric are wrapped around them. Almost everything is bathed in sunlight.

A very spacious hammock is the centre piece of the chamber, made out of a strong cotton cloth that has about the diameter of my thumb. At least twenty grown-ups would be able to sleep very comfortably in here. Two large wooden masts, decorated with gorgeous ornaments, are holding the construction up.

Something tugs at my soul. It is a playful contact. There is nothing slithery about it or forceful.

“Hallo there!” I giggle as I step closer to the hammock. Six humanoid babies lie in it, locked into one another like a jumble of snakes. Five are sleeping.

“Tu as des beaux yeux,” I start muttering in my mother tongue towards a tiny baby face. You have beautiful eyes.

A pair of grey eyes gazes up at me.

I reach into the bed nest of the second royal serpent-spawn.

Princess Grianán Arcānā Tjiehenet is as light as a feather. Her limbs are ridiculously delicate. They mock the strength of her clear gaze.

I cradle the girl against me and blow a kiss against the wisp of golden hair. I take up her scent, freeze it into my memory. Then a bewildering question for her grandfather leaves my mouth. “Arcānā re-animated this one with Force lightening?”

Narthex starts to rock the huge hammock.

“Did your daughter use dark side energies to bring this baby back to the living?” I rephrase my question patiently, still letting my fingers wander over the little princess in amazement and awe.

I hear a secret door open.

The dauphine steps out of a dark and narrow passage way. “You were never a mother and never will be, bambina,” she sneers, “So there is no way that I can make you understand.”

Where ever Arcānā just came from, it is a place infested by the dark side. She reeks of decay and dark secrets.

I take a considerate step back. My true self gets the better of me though and I reply, “Understanding? You lack of it, Queeny. Not I. You tore this one back from paradise to trap her in hell.”

We face one another like hostile armies, Grianán helpless between us.

Narthex is a by-stander here, but an attentive one. I know he will interfere before things will totally get out of hand. For now he restrains himself, wearing his dispassionate servant mask. Not even his eyes give his feelings away. I admire him for that. Flames of passion devour me.

“You are obsessed with the ones that you love,” I tell the young mother straight away. “You should not abuse your Force powers that way. You plunge your family into darkness and despair.”

Her eyes sparkle with displeasure. I can swear that tinges of red and yellow mix into her emerald eyes. “On this I will not be lectured by you,” she breathes.

Tough for the dauphine, for she is forced to listen to me. The baby girl in my arms is the very proof that another dangerous line has been crossed. “I am asking you to be rational. For the sake of your children.”

“The day my favourite sister died on me, I swore myself that I will learn to stop people from dying. The ancestors helped me to learn what I need for my mission.”

The zombies. She talked to them. I cannot congratulate Arcānā on that choice. She is not even grasping a sliver of where her stubbornness will lead to in a far away future. Others will follow her extremely bad example. As a bohémienne, knowing the pure ways of the desert, I have to give her one important bit of advice. “Train yourself to let go... of everything you fear to lose.”

She is not convinced in the least. “Even if I need to spend a lifetime seeking power over death, I will go this path. In umbris potestas est. Which means in plain Basic: In the shadows, there is power. Do not lecture me on how to lead my life and how to raise my children!”

Grianán starts crying in protest in her mother’s arms. The child does not seem to like us getting mad with one another, but that cannot be helped. Arcānā and I will never be at peace. “I am afraid that you have to listen to any and all subjects that regard the serpent-spawn from now on.”

Her laugh is bitter. “You have been here for less than one day and you pick your second fight with me already. Who do you think you are?”

Daring to argue with her once more, I take a bold step forward. “The new nanny!”

“A nanny?” Mockery displaces her anger. “I cannot remember that I asked for one.”

“Discuss that with the Force itself!” My accusing pointer finger pokes her into her chest. “You complicated things for Grianán here. It is too much power for any one being to carry. She could get drunken from her own abilities, and worse.”

“You mistake her for your bastard step-brother. He is power hungry beyond means.” Her eyes blaze like red twin suns. “He wants to control what people think and what they believe in.”

“Grianán here will break if you do not change for her.”

“I will provide her with the best training possible for her Force abilities,” Arcānā suggests generously.

“Yeah, right!” I spit out with contempt. “I saw that brilliant and unfailing training of yours with your acolyte. Wait, she never left Sapuruh alive to report to you.”

Arcānā’s eyes start to glow in that ugly yellow colour that I dread so much.

“Calm down, Queeny! You are breast feeding!” I remind her. “I do not want the children to start sucking up your rage by their mother milk already.”

The dauphine has to laugh and the situation relaxes. “I did not require a nanny, but it seems that I have found one anyway.”

Narthex gives me a grateful smile. “A diamond in the rare.”

“More a blood diamond, Dad.”

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

When I walk down from the royal pyramid, I feel like I lived a thousand years all in one day. But the price for all my angst, suffering and uncertainty is worth while. I have encountered Grianán. The light side and the dark of the Force, both are palpable in that little child. I want to make sure that she stays en route. That her siblings stick to the light, too.

Solitaire was wise to get me involved. I have to bow to her understanding and future vision. She got a rebellious Lidérc for the job position that is much needed within the royal household.

The entrance to Cunabula’s underworld is not guarded, as I expected. The Ophidea believe in the concept of free will. The dark side is a choice.

“Emotion, yet peace.
Ignorance, yet knowledge.
Passion, yet serenity.
Chaos, yet harmony.”

The stench of centuries breathes into my face as I walk down the stone staircase.

Once Grianán starts down the dark path, it will forever dominate her destiny.

“Bon jour,” I call out into the darkness. Good day to you.

My senses are as tight as my body, but I do not fear the holy ancestors. They are not my people. And certainly not sacred in any way.

“As you all may know, my name is Isabeau. I am of Clan Riwalan, the receding ones.”

They have gathered around me, but keep quiet like a sulking bunch of children. It seems a nuisance for them to talk to somebody who does not accept any known concept of the Force.

“There are some necessary changes on the way for the royal family. You will not see their lot any more. This ends today.”

A pair of hateful yellow eyes looks straight into mine. “You are certain of yourself, Scion of the Force,” an unpleasant voice speaks straight into my head. “It was not always thus.”

I gaze back at the distorted figure that was once a living humanoid. Its hate has given it a shadow existence. It is trapped between endless decay and the lust for life. But still I am not afraid. Only repulsed and, I must admit, thoughtful. “Growing up is never easy.” I shrug. “Not unlike coming to rest one’s soul, I suppose.”

“Are you finished down here?” the Force phantom hisses.

I smile sweetly. “You have not received my present for you yet.”

With that I bite my finger and three precious blood drops feed the ground.

The earth seems to shift a bit.

A ball of green light explodes and brings an eerie brightness to the place.

In the ancestor’s gallery, about forty seated figures slowly begin to rise. The crackling of their brittle, blood-stained cements fills the air.

“I guess, now I am finished,” I state as I look at the awakening zombies, who continue their slow descent from the gallery.

So blood is the answer. The only thing that animates their lot to more than just a ghost show. I will keep that in mind.

“Then I hope we have seen the last of you,” the entity suggests acidly. Its features change rapidly, become more solid. “You know very well that ancient laws forbid us to feed on members of Clan Riwalan.”

War-clubs are raised by crumpling fingers.

“But you can smash my skulls in and claim it was an accident,” I ponder, while more and more Marigold petals spill from withered laps. Twenty more zombies want to join the killing party. “Just one for thing before I humbly take my leave of you...”

“Yes?”

I watch more and more desiccated fingers grip ancient battle weapons. With both hands I am at the throat of the phantom menace before me. I squeeze as much as I can. “This place here will seem to you like a vale of sunshine if you ever lure one of the current serpent-spawn down here.”

With that I push the ancestor away from me and turn my back on the Holy Crypts. In my own due time I make my ascent back into the rosy evening air. The hieroglyphs, written in the blood of martyrs, hold them back down there.

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

A woman in a yellow sari waits for me just outside the entrance. She is not alone. A furious girl, about five years old, stands next to her. I can tell that the child is not one of the older royal princesses. Those are all dressed in green. So this must be a commoner, if such things exist here on Draconis. I am not sure if there is a caste system like I know it from my own home world.

“Aranea, let me have a word with the Marquise!” the woman donned as a snake priestess interferes. She has a kind face.

The girl sulks. “If you would not be with Mora so much, you could guard that blasted entrance better. You are the bloody gate keeper, are you not?”

“People who are determined to go down there for advice will always find a way in there.”The priestess does funny gestures with her hands while she talks. There seems to be a pattern in it. Her fingers radiate power. “Blockades of any kind are useless.”

The small face becomes a mask of disgust. “There must be a medicine against stupidity, Clementia.”

The snake priestess gazes lovingly at Aranea. “I fear there is not.”

“So, gate keeper,” I address Clementia straightforwardly.“What else is worth guarding on this island?”

She laughs out heartily. “You are already where you are most desperately needed. At the royal court. These days Arcānā seldom listens to Agathos or Narthex. You are the fresh desert wind who will keep not only the holy ancestors away.”

I feel like I have to make a lot of things clear here. “First of all the royal princesses and princes will have to learn to take proper care of themselves. Like your crypt. That is the most important clue to their survival.”

Her eyes glint at me with humour. “You have come to the right place then, my dear Marquise.”

“And what about you, little fuzz ball?” I look straight at the girl.

She marches towards me, determined to kick me in the shin. I make an elegant caporeia movement, that sends her flying into a nearby bush.

As she struggles out of it again, I come to stand next to her. “I see great potential in you, young one.”

Her anger transforms into glee within an instant.

I crouch down to her eye level. “Judging from your battle wounds...,” I point at her marred chest, “...you are a brave fighter against the dark side of the Force already. We could train together from time to time.”

The girl studies my face with wonder, then gives herself an unselfconscious shake. “When I may,” she replies with a new politeness.



* Tell me if you do NOT want to be tagged for an update of this particular story:

@DarthUncle
@earlybird-obi-wan
@Darth_Furio
@Lady_Misty
@WarmNyota_SweetAyesha
@Chyntuck

 

Very poignant, and beautiful. I like self-aware and grown up Isabeau, and wish her luck and further wisdom in dealing with the future!

AzureAngel2, I think it helps a lot that the hotspot is run from our neighbours cable modem; and we can trust them not to be tampering with it. But I do agree it can be a hassle sometimes so I certainly hope our own internet/telephone/digital tv works again tomorrow afternoon after the technician visit. Has been more than long enough by now.

 

I wish that I could be that hopeful, DarthUncle.

 

Isa is handling things great.
And hope your internet will return soon

 

Well, seems this time my optimism won the day

 

Good Luck you two. AzureAngel2 and DarthUncle

Isa has great strength.

"There must be a medicine against stupidity, Clementia.” Sadly, I don think this exists.

 

Internet is back, but I actually do not feel very safe in our flat building or the flat itself, Darth_Furio. At present I sleep very, very bad. My creativity has come to a complete hold.

Luckily my dear beta WarmNyota_SweetAyesha worked so hard, that we have some updates for a while!

And DarthUncle tries to encourage me to go on posting for the rest of you:

@earlybird-obi-wan
@Lady_Misty
@Chyntuck

I dearly hope that you are all still following my updates & like reading this story.

Here is the first bit of the next chapter:



Dark adapted eyes, Chapter 11:

Aranea decides to become my own shadow guard straight away, which is not a problem. The royal family knows her already. She is an orphan, who got sort of adopted by Arcānā recently. I think it is a clever gambit. Real dedication cannot be bought. It comes natural.

In the days to come, I meet the royal offspring one by one. They have been out there in the jungle all the time, watching me. Now that they know that I have no love for Vicomte Ankoù either, they bid me welcome.

It does not take long until they invite me out into their private kingdom to play. I am not easily fooled. They are still testing me, curious, little beasts that they are.

The heliconide leaves the blood red orchid, flying towards me. Its fragile insect body is absolutely motionless while it drinks from the bromelia next to my nose. The insect is yellow with wide black stripes. The length of its body is impressive. It swallows the nectar almost ferociously before travelling on to the next blossom.

On this planet the wildlife is very colourful and exotic. I rather like dull and practical better. Banthas are not really beauties, but at least more useful than this butterfly like being. The jungle is full of flying insects that seem just pretty.

“Got you!” Prince Sereno says triumphantly behind me, tapping me on my back. “Hey, everybody I found, Isa! Yeah! I am so good!”

Playing hide and seek with telepaths is somewhat pointless. “Are you still a good seeker with your nose being broken?”

The young prince kisses my neck and runs off again, laughing. “Catch us if you can, Isa.”

The rest of the afternoon I spend looking for the royal bunch, managing to get my clothing in a total mess.

Playing in a desert just gets you covered in sand and dust. A state that I love. I like the fact that sand is rough. Its grains are like reality being rubbed into your face. And not in a pampering, careful manner. Nothing wrong with growing up that way at all.

A rainforest is utterly different. It turns you into a swamp monster covered with plant life. There are also armies of insects. The past weeks I have been bitten by things that I had never heard of. It is tiresome.

I am more than happy when Narthex appears with a firm face and announces that dinner is ready. When his enquiring look crosses mine, I blow a kiss into his direction. The master valet gives me a wink.

“Game over!” I shout into the thick undergrowth. “I am off now, kiddos!”

My feet just fly towards the royal bungalow in a mad frenzy. In fact, I am quicker than the children.
One by one, they come onto the veranda, even dirtier than I am. I feel like giving me a thumbs up for myself.

“You can take an Ophidiae child out of the jungle, but not the jungle out of an Ophidiae child,” concludes Senator Aletheia with a chuckle. He is wearing his daily tunic, nothing posh. “Good evening, family. As I can see everybody had a pleasant day.”

I really like his humour, but I cannot agree with his definition of pleasantness. Does the jungle not drive him as crazy as it drives me? I feel all of my ant bites with a severe clarity. Cunabula is a green hell.

Fortunately, I do not need to answer, because a chorus line of child voices rises. It is hard to follow at first, but after a while it gets easy to identify who actually says what.

A sesia apiformis has landed on Princess Caelestris’ nose as she was picking flowers.

Her twin sister Princess Aréte has watched the love making of arrow frogs at the river. Prince Phosphoros had been with her.

Princess Adamah speaks about a spotted cuscus whom she tried to teach tricks, while Sereno obviously tried to steal a feather from a scale-throated hermit.

I give the boy a frown, because a hummingbird is a fast creature. Does the Unifying Force grant a child unusually quick reflexes?

“Nothing is impossible with the Force,” whispers Prince Èleos towards me in such a low voice that I doubt very much that anybody else has heard him.

“Formidable”, I answer with the same soft volume. “Play hide and seek with the Shesha guards in future then.”

I turn my face away from him and concentrate on my own plate. This mousaka is gorgeous.

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

In the evening, I decide to take up a stroll to the royal pyramid. It has been a while since I checked on Grianán and her five twin siblings.

From one heartbeat to the next, I feel my entire skull vibrating. I quickly hide behind a stele column.

And there he is, a tall figure in a grey, hooded cloak. He materializes and more onto the plaza.

I smirk, my blood boiling in my veins.

The druid is not aware of my presence. Lidérc are hard to track down for them. We are the perfect predators.

His curse dies long before completion. I rip his throat open with my bare teeth.

While his eyes turn glassy, I lie on his chest and drill my fingernails into his temples. There will be no telepathic message. Only his continued silence can give cause to alarm his fellow druid brothers.

Then it dawns on me: there are others like him on the royal island. The Order of Light has attacked the royal family before. It is known.

I run as I never have run before. My lungs are on the brink of bursting, but I double my speed. Darkness is gathering. I can feel that with every fibre of my body. This is what my ancestors have been trained for, bred for.

Instead of taking the countless stairs that lead to the top, I listen to my adrenaline level. I take off my sandals and start to climb.

A baby voice whimpers in protest. It is Grianán.

My body functions all by itself, a lethal weapon set to kill.

My victim stands about three feet away from me in front of the hammock. In his right hand he waves a large wand. He must not speak his blasted spell.

Capoeira is the answer. I am in the air in no time.

When the druid turns around it is too late. My face hit his with full force. His tongue tastes strange. I spit it out immediately.

To get his wand is no problem either. He is shaking uncontrollably with shock. I throw the magical artefact far behind me.

“Never the babies!” I howl. “Do you hear me? Never the babies!”

In the back of my mind a future vision unravels.

A tall human, dressed in dark robes, ignites a blue flame. Frightened children look up to him. He attacks them despite their young age. Despite their helplessness.

I stab my claws into the druid’s eyes and his chest, fighting against a future that is written in the stars.

Over and over again I stab my opponent until I collapse on him, my vision fading.

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

(To be continued!)

 

Intense ending. The description of her anger and haste is spot on. I also enjoyed the Anakin flashback.

 

Isa sure can fight for the protection of the children

 

Darth_Furio: Thanks for still sticking to this story and enjoying it as it goes along. In this new written story my Isabeau is even more a self-made woman, sticking to her feline roots, than in the original text.

I also added two of Grianán´s best future friends, Aranea and Mora, into her life. Once I did that, it occurred to me that she also needs more interaction with other important figures of the royal court such as the priestess Clementia and some of the most fierce she-warriors of the holy isle.

earlybird-obi-wan: But she needs allies plus also mentors, who keep her thinking/ reflecting about the universe.

 

Fighting is what Isabeau does automatically, and very well - as she says, that's what they are bred to be - a fighter. You describe those scenes well though, it is a exhilarating joy to read.
But, as you know, I especially enjoy her describing the world, experiencing her relation and feelings with respect to life and these children, their parents, and this new world she's on.

Nice contrast how she likes the sand, comparing its harsh sterility to the mushy hot and vibrant jungle.