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

The dark side of the Force is strong in my story, earlybird-obi-wan.

Darth_Furio, I am also glad to have you guys back. I hope you are doing okay and had a nice Christmas holiday.

 

I am glad these kids have Isa, a being with flaws certainly, but also with a lot of common sense and a seemingly natural instinct to care for these force sensitive beings that have a lot to learn growing up.

Huh, we'll see about that


But, glad to read how Isa and her snakespawn get along. Interesting again to read how Isa is on the one hand (trying to?) live in the present, focussing on the task at hand while on the other hand having those visions of a time in the far future, and being plagued by memories of how her live could have been had she been left out in the dune sea.

I guess that's her connection with Anakin too, though he tried to escape his origin his whole live, only having it succeed after his son made his own escape from a place where Skywalkers perhaps do not really belong, while she keeps her past and the dunes in her memory as a idealised image of what could have been, without really trying to permanently reclaim it.

 

The main reason for having married you are your wits, besides excellent cooking skills, being a nerd like me, loving books, games & music as much as I do and being cute & cuddly, DarthUncle.

You also just found my time inconsistency of 5 YEARS... gurgle... in Chapter 16. Therefore I had to rewrite it! Thanks for pointing that out!

 

Well, I have to say, the renewed and rewritten parts of chapter 16 are further improved, and were well worth a reread for me, would recommend it to everyone who follows this story, as chapter 17 now also follows better from it. I guess it was worth it to be in bed after half past one AM last night then AzureAngel2

I like how you used the interaction of Holo-Luke giving the droids to Jabba at the start of Return of the Jedi to start Adamah's lesson, fits very well, and I also had to stifle my snort as it started

 

Sorry, that I did not better communicate my severe stomach cramps to you. Otherwise you would not have been forced to lie in bed with just a book to hug until 1:30 am.

I hope that the water pipes are repaired again and that you still can concentrate on working after an overdose of fan fic.

 

Ooookaaaay, I went on a splurge last night and I'm finally all caught up here.

Isa's world is simply fascinating, both from a world-building perspective and a plot perspective. I like how you have her frequently referring to her "home" culture of the desert even as she adapts to her new natural and social environments, and how she develops into the role(s) she chooses for herself. As you said in an earlier comment, the dark side is strong with this story, and she is constantly treading a fine line between light and dark in her amorality (for lack of a better word). And her glimpses of the future are magical little moments -- in a way, the reader gets to experience her life as a slightly disjointed, but overall coherent dream, in which she and we try to find meaning as events unfold.

I'll be doing my best to keep up regularly with your fic -- but please bear in mind that I have a lot of catch-up to do on the boards, having been away for so long, so it may be every other chapter or so At any rate, no need to tag me, I'm watching the thread anyway.

Thanks for sharing!

 

Chyntuck, thanks for not only taking the time to pop in, but reading a lot and writing such a nice comment!

I only tagged you because I did not want you to miss OC characters of mine having kok and kataifi.

Reading about those delicious sweets makes nobody put on weight so shortly after Christmas, right?

 

I think an update is due again, DarthUncle and earlybird-obi-wan, even though it is not the 14th February yet.

Perhaps even Kahara has time to read. One never knows!

The first bit of Chapter 18:



Chapter 18:

In order to return to the villa of Senator Kairos Aletheia we use a hand full of short cuts. The labyrinth of streets and small side paths remind me painfully of Montségur.

There is a huge difference though. A sea of plants, mostly voluptuous flowers grow here at Polysýndeton: hortensias, dahlias, roses, magnolias, camellias, fresias. Their scent makes me rather dizzy.

The inhabitants of this city state love to keep the steel and glass construction as green as possible. Balconies, verandas, roof top gardens and window seats house plants.

The love for green life should have connected the humans of Amnion with the Ophidiae, but unfortunately they just magnify the things that separate them. If there is ever a war, it will be a very dirty one.

The city has become much more busy since our breakfast. It reminds me of the activity of a bee hive. Once I had dropped one by accident in the jungle. It had been a painful experience. My skin still remembers every single sting that it had collected back then.

Right now it is just people in togas swarming around, walking fast and hectic. There is no danger for me, or for my two male companions, but I fear for Grianán. She is so petité. Her trustful hand rests in my own. Now and then she looks up and gives me one of her bright smiles. My little sun princess.

Every morning Grianán stands outside of her mother's lofty and spacious bedroom in the royal pyramid, waiting for me to appear on duty. Dawn seems to tickle her out of bed. Usually, she is up before anybody else is. It warms my heart to watch her bathing in the first sun rays that come to meet her.

Recently her elder brother Éleos has told me that she is a blessed being, one of the few who are able to be one with the Living Force.

There was no greed in Grianán, just peace. Will Mórag MagUhidir change her for good? The life of an adept of the Order of the beanmna feasa is so different from that of a royal princess.

Ever since I learned what has befallen the god queen in her early childhood I am very fearful for Grianán. All those trials. The rituals. Dangerous knowledge. And the many burdens that each adept carries for herself.

How can the girl go on being herself once her training starts? And even if she earns her marque and is allowed to return to her family, the Holy Inquisition can and ask for her services at any time.

A warm breeze, coming from the ocean below us, strokes over my face, almost in mockery of my deep concerns.

In order to survive, the haggard and pale Sleah Maith had drawn back to harsh places such as the mountain regions of Vallum Ventii and the Montes Nubii. The ice and snow had stopped their enemies from going after them at first. But then the god queens and their Midi-chlorians had opened their hearts to the dark side.

At about the same time the scientists of Cunabula had come up with more solutions that had been fateful as well. The usage of xocolatl in sacred rituals had been perverted beyond any means. And my own race had come into being. An army bred to conquer and kill. To obey without any questions.

I still keep brooding about the unchangeable and bloody past, when we finally arrive in front of the Aletheia villa.

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

The large breakfast room is inhabited with Senator Kairos Aletheia, his wife Calothrix, his mother Techné and the rest of the royal bunch from Draconis.

When the white doors shut behind me, I have a future vision again.

A human man is staring at a long table in horror. The table is set for a company of plenty, but there is just a lonely figure in some sort of battle armour waiting for them.

This warrior is dressed in black.

Strange bolts of fire shoot through the air, but the man in black catches them all in his gloved hands.

Finally, the weapon flies towards him.

“We would be honoured if you would join us”, a mechanical voice hisses underneath the helmet.

My breathing becomes a problem for me. It is as if hot sand is running through my chest, filling my lungs.

I feel trapped for no reason. My life is a bitter farce. It has been stolen away from me. Onlyanger keeps me alive, lets me forget the pain at times.

Grianán flinches, her eyes wide open. “Keep him away!” she whispers so low that only I can catch her tiny voice. “He is the Fallen One! The child murderer.”

“I'm sorry!” I whisper back.

“I'm sorry, too,” she answers unhappily, knowing as much as I that parts of our conversation will echo into the future. Two old friends will be upset with one another. And will fear that man in black. He is the herald of destruction.

Suddenly, Grianán runs towards her grandmother, instantly japing on about our adventures in the city. The flow of words that comes out of her little mouth is amazing. Even I have difficulty to follow, but her sweet gibberish distracts me from the aftermath of my vision.

Whoever the black warrior is, whenever he will exist: he is not with us right now. His shadow will not fall on us. I will take care that the dark side will find no fertile ground in the souls of my serpent-spawn.

Grianán talks and talks as if her life depends on it.

I witness the stern look of the elderly Techné melt away very quickly. She reaches out for the child and places Grianán on her lap, her arthritis forgotten.

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

For the next sun hour Grianán sits on her grandmother's lap like a little queen on a throne. She enlightens the entire family and the bemused personnel that serves us.

When the girl finally falls silent, Arcānā is gazing at her intently. “So you enjoyed yourself, bella.”

Grianán nods eagerly.

I can tell from the voice of the god queen that an entire story lies underneath her words. Agathos knows his wife equally well. “So you had stormy weather?” he asks.

”There was this little tornado that splattered our luggage all over the apartment. I felt like giving out a warning to the neighbouring cities, but Calothrix stopped me doing so. She had her own way of handling the tornado. Isabeau would have done something differently.”

Daná makes a dark face. With her fork she turns her breakfast roll into a mashed substance in no time.

I smirk.

Why am I not surprised? Perhaps this man in black also will have her as one of his ancestors without knowing. Each of the royal princess and princesses is a child of the Force.

But something deep inside me, the whisper of desert sand, tells me that Grianán will determine a lot: The fate of her race. The changes that will come upon my people. The history of mankind in the universe.

“The princess. You have to take care of her.”

The human man speaks with a very insistent voice to his hairy companion. The creature grunts its answer, but is in awe and as much distressed as a bantha, that is about to loose his master.

“Do you hear me?” The human repeats patiently. Red lights are dancing on his face. There is smoke or some kind of fog everywhere.

Since we have entered this water world, my visions have intensified. I do not like it a single bit.

My people look occasionally into the past with stories in order to honour their roots.

Out there in the open desert you better live in the here and now.

The future is just a shadow of things that might come. Nothing is certain. Things shift and change constantly.

I see no reason to put that complicated puzzle together. No, I am the maker of my own destiny. Each of my actions and choices will come back to me. That I know with the full awareness of a former desert inhabitant.

“You were in the city without any bodyguard?” Senator Kairos Aletheia looks deeply troubled. A nervous flicker dances in his eyes.

“Bodyguard? Is that a new kind of fashion?” Agathos smiles.

“A man in your position should not take any risks. Especially when he has children like you do.”

“I grew up here, dear brother. I do not think that either Grianán, Narthex or the Marquise Riwalan were in any danger either.” Agathos gives me a quick glance and looks back at his brother. “You are overreacting.”

“The past standard years a lot changed, Agathos. There are more and more sea tang farmers demanding subventions from the senate. The fishers are also not very pleased with the development of the market. They also blame us, the senators. Senator Caesarion was murdered recently in front of the senate building.”

“Indeed?” Agathos raises an eyebrow and starts scratching his beard.

Techné seems non-pulsed. “No politics in front of the children.”

I swallow my laughter with a big sip from my café mug.

There is no point in keeping secrets in a family of telepaths. How little their own grandmother knows about those rascals gathered here at the table! I bet my wards even tune into my bewildering visions of the future at times, wondering about them more than I ever do.

“I beg you pardon, dear mother.” Agathos turns to his eldest. “Well then, filius, what did you do in our absence?”

Éleos has this kind of glow around him, that makes him seem serene beyond his age. “Granny invited me to her bedchamber. She has her own shrine there. With a small bowl of holy water. We prayed the morning greetings to Parhelion together.”

I concentrate on my café, taking greater sips from the mug. If I cannot stand one subject at breakfast than it is religion. Speaking about Parhelion, the proclaimed one and only god, is even worse.

Sereno musters me thoughtfully. Then he blurs out, “Uncle Kairos let me use his refractor. We saw a whale shark through it. He was very big and had many white dots on his black back. But the belly, that is completely white.”

As if I would care about the marine life around here. My only concern is the security of the children.

Both Sereno and Èleos look hurt about my lack of enthusiasm for whale sharks.

I shrug briefly, getting more and more lost in my café mug. This is heavenly strong stuff.

“... Isabeau?”

All eyes in the room rest on me.

“Yes?” I ask very uncertain. Somehow I have missed something essential.

It is Adamah who was speaking to me anxiously. “What do you think?”

“About what?” I bark back, clutching to the mug.

These silly visions are bad for my concentration. I am losing track of a lot of things.

“The boat tour!” a choir of children voices shouts back.

The mug slips out of my fingers and smashes to the ground, leaving an ugly mess on the white carpet. “Boat tour?”

“Yes, all of us,” beams Adamah, while the rest of her siblings smirk.

Blasted telepaths! I hate it when they do that. They seem on a mission to help me overcome all my fears. Whether I like it or not.

The smiles around me widen.

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

(To be continued!)

 

I LOLed; seriously whale sharks are innocent and wondrous

 

She is busy too

 

DarthUncle: Did I really force you to google their lot? Poor you.

earlybird-obi-wan: I hope you are free to read some silly lines that came out of my head.



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

I made my way back to the villa, taking time. The bizarre metal shades and glass architecture of Polysýndeton are pleasant to look at. Therefore I re-visit the market square and have another café at one of the stands.

Then I cue up with a bunch of tourists and take a stroll through the senate halls of Polysýndeton.

Next, I admire the ivory inside of the city hall.

When I am at the harbour again, I hear words that unsettle me.

“The crown princess needs to die.”

I slide behind some transport containers and hide.

Through a gap I watch five human men. Judging by their intense smell and their grubby looks, four of them are in the fish industry.

Their leader though is a totally different matter. He smells of candle wax, incense and old papyrus. His tunic is spotless, his expressive hands soft.

“The almighty, generous Parhelion has given the means of healing and the gift of eternal life only to mankind. He has mercy on us and all his people in perilous times, where delusion and lack of faith interfere so much and threaten everything.

Being ignited by the light of His grace, we are chosen by Parhelion. We recognize that faith is the greatest treasure that His love grants to us here on Amnion.

Only faith is the root of all judgement and without it nobody can please Him.”

A preacher of the worst kind. Why are those men listening to him?

I stay for Adamah's sake.

“Therefore, confiding unto his mild charity, I am ready to conform to him, the only true faith.”

I smirk.

Talks like that always have been tiresome to me.

Out there in the dune sea of Sapuhru every single breath is a prayer. The desert turns you into a very grateful and religious being. It can teach you so much. This is why I had sent Adamah to the village Sendero recently. These men here do not even know about all the trials that the young princess has gone through.

“And following the good example of His holy martyrs we should give away all earthly things, even life itself, instead of losing this worthy treasure and inestimable gift of heaven.”

“This is madness, Triptychon!” exclaims one of the fishermen.

“Oh merciful Parhelion, preserve and strengthen us all at all times in our believes and grant them to those, who, blended by passions and prejudices, do not recognize the worth of true fate, those like Brother Acheron.”

The addressed fisherman flushes like a little boy, which seems ridiculous for a person of his enormous hight.

“Heptan, Porphyr and Kalomel”, the priest named Triptychon goes on firmly, “I hope the three of you are not in danger of getting shipwrecked with your faith.

Please join me in prayer for our brother in faith Acheron. He seems to be in the diaspora now. Due to his sea journeys he was not able to join our regular gatherings. Parhelion may give him righteousness to do all that is needful for the true faith.”

“But she is just a child,” Acheron protests softly, his face still reddish.

“That is no child. It is a snake in human form. A serpent-spawn like the rest of that demonic race.”

“We will not be able to kill them all. So let us concentrate on the crown princess only, for now.”

“The Force unleashed!” I mutter to myself.

“If we are lucky the heathen queen will declare war on our nation,” Triptychon promises.

Luck is to die without any complications within a heart beat. Considering the huge weapon arsenal in the womb of Cunabula this planet should pray for a very quick death indeed.

“The first law of Parhelion is: Thou shall have no other gods apart from me. Yet the current regent of Draconis dares to call herself god queen and raises her spawn in pagan falsity.“

By now I have gathered enough evidence to wipe them out for good. Nobody ever needs to know about this conspiracy.

“We should kill Senator Aletheia as well,” Triptychon states.

Getting rid of Kairos might be a blessing. I dislike that unnerving man very, very much. He always manages to say the wrong things. I do not understand why the children are still polite to their uncle.

“The holy scrolls teaches us: everybody who gets intimate with an animal should be punished to the extreme.”

Realizing that they mean Agathos and not his younger brother turns my mood bleak. I really need to stop these fanatics.

“The senator is not to blame,” argues the womp-rat faced Heptan in the meantime. “This dark witch has used her unnatural powers on him. He is not to blame. His daughter Adamah though carries her mother's guilt in her. She is a young snake that needs to be smashed.”

Smashing is indeed a good idea. Skulls crack very interestingly when you steer them against a solid surface.

A gloved hand reaches out for my throat.

“Don't!” Luçien whispers into my ear.

Then a shadow darkens the sun.

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

I dread opening my eyes. The stench already warns me of what I will see. The midday sun shines annoyingly through my closed lids.

“Isabeau, I know you are awake. Your breathing betrays you.”

It is not that I am afraid of facing Luçien and I am straight forward about it. “I prefer not to look at you,” I answer my step-brother coldly. “And I would welcome it if you would stop staring at me non-stop. It bothers me.”

For so many sun years I have managed brilliantly without him. Now he is back in my life. Whatever he is up to, I am sure I will not like the prospect of it. He has proven before that his morals are twisted.

“You have changed a great deal since I last saw you.” His voice is half sad and half admiring. “The spoiled little girl as turned into a self-aware...”

“You will find out that I am still a lot of trouble to you,” I interrupt his musing impatiently.

The sound of the waves around us costs me a great deal of extra strength. The knowledge that bottomless water is encircling me like a hungry monster is terrifying. This is not my beloved salt lake, where I know every inch. I am dealing with a world-wide ocean of a foreign planet.

He distracts me from my fear, keen to keep our conversation going. “What happened to your arm? Is that a prosthetic, Isabeau? Why did you leave it bare? That must be awful in the jungle or high in the mountains. You could have artificial skin growing over the metal and all those dreadful wires, neatly covering them.”

“Mind you, it is a weapon still – not the arm of an invalid!” I wish with all my might to jump straight into his face and bite off his nose. “I like it the very way it is. Are we finished with the interview yet? Or do you feel like inquiring after all of my battle injuries?”

His laugh is warm and light. Unwanted, memories of my youth stir in me. “You have too many scars, Isabeau. It would take hours to even mention them all. And you are not in a very talkative mood.”

“Guess why that is!” I bark. “Do me the favour, mind reader!”

I feel him nearby and bite on my tongue. Then I spit blood straight into his face. It is the ultimate challenge among our people. He is now officially invited to get the rest of my water if he dares. I will not make it easy for him though.

“I do not wish for a feud with you, Isabeau.”

“Do not use my name that often,” I suggest bitterly. “It wears out this way.”

Luçien touches my left cheek softly. He wears no leather gloves. I also can hear no rustling of robes. That makes me quite uncomfortable.

“I did not mean to harm you,” he insures me, cooing almost.

“Well, it is far too late for that, Luçien,” I smirk. “You did not leave the best impression with all that you pulled today. Consider me harmed.”

“I just fear that you will hurt yourself if I cut you loose.”

“You are so pathetic and self-righteous.”

His friendliness towards me does not make me forget all his evil deeds to bring order and peace to the galaxy.

My mind races to put the pieces together.

“Agathos is one of your best friends. How can you do that to him?” The rope cuts deep into my only real arm.

“I will do nothing to him,” Luçien insists. Behind his calm façade I felt anger rising. “It is their ability to make choices that make his children dangerous. Arcānā has meddled too much with the Force and the DNA of various races.”

“Who are you to be their judge?”

Luçien has underestimated the strength of my prosthetic arm. I can hear him breathe in deep while I jerk myself free on one side.

My eyes snap open.

 

The bionic woman strikes, well done AzureAngel2!

Lucy is still too full of himself, leading him to underestimate the inventiveness and capacity for change in his opponents and friends. But it is good Isa knows he tried to do well by her, even if he was misguided, well written AzureAngel2

And, AzureAngel2, it is so typical for Isa to say 'it will wear out that way' about Lucy saying her name, I laughed AzureAngel2

 

DarthUncle: How many times do you want to tag your own wife in a single comment? I am not a holy trinity that you need to do that 3 times. Just keep an eye on the clock and remember my wish to drag my tired bones to the nearby sauna. Sorry that I am so tired and useless this weekend, but it was a rough week & the upcoming one will be even tougher. I do not even know if I find the strength to write anything new until March. How good of you that you worked ahead with some beta-editing.

As for the praise of my writing: I have to believe you that I am good. The alternative would be heart-smashing.

 

keep on writing. I love Isa and Lucien

 

earlybird-obi-wan: Thanks again for liking it and caring about the characters. If I ever stop posting in here I show you another place where to find the story. I could also stuff it all on a usb stick and send it to your address.

But I also have my husband DarthUncle who does not like me to draw back from the things that are "typically me" and "out-coming". He tries to encourage me not to lose my words for my stories, after I already lost the colours for my paintings. It is tough to be married to a very determined man.

 

Chapter 19:

We face one another like the generals of an army. Again it is Luçien who cannot bear the silence between us for too long. “You care too much for those children to be able to make a clear judgement about the situation,” he points out to me.

I frown, because I realize that I am looking at a total stranger. Even his eye colour is wrong. “What happened to you?”

“Oh that.” He shrugs casually. “I needed to blend in.”

In front of my eyes, Luçien changes back to the man that I know: tall, copper skin, dark, curly hair, intense blue eyes. Yet there is a darkness in him that he is not fully aware of, that he cannot hide.

“Are you aware that something went wrong when you tried to destroy the holocron?”

“Nothing is wrong with me!” he roars. “And I destroyed that evil tool!”

“I see,” I purr. “For me it was just an innocent learning device. You made it into something it never was. It was you who made it evil.”

He storms towards me like a mad bantha bull, but I just move aside, laughing. “What now, Luçien?”

While I talk, I manage to fully free myself with my normal arm. He had not bound my feet or knees.

“Do you want to destroy me like Solitaire, oh brother dear?”

My words sober him.

“I will not intervene with the attempted murder of the crown princess,” he proclaims, his voice coming from very far away.

“Try not to wash your hands in innocence as it is futile!” I yell. “You have no idea what you will unleash.”

“I fear, I do. But whatever will be, will be.”

I should choke him until his regret pours out of every single opening of his body. “I will tell her the truth.”

“Do whatever you wish to do, Isabeau. It will take you three sun weeks to sail back to the city. I left you sufficient food and water supplies. You have no means of communication on board, but you will be safe.”

With that statement, Luçien simply vanishes.

I stand on the deck of the empty ship, my hands clenched in fists.

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

Waves come along, hit the ship and vanish again. Time is meaningless in the great wide open of the ocean. There is no shouting on my part, no tantrum at all. It will not help the children at all when I waste my strength. They badly need me and my wits.

I turn towards the cockpit and slide in. Inside the small, though stylish room my greatest worry becomes true. The controls are damage beyond repair. I suspect Force lightening.

Several heartbeats later, for I refuse to be beaten yet, I examine the machine room. There it is clear to me that the ship's motor is dysfunctional as well.

Under my breath I curse Luçien for his cold efficiency. He has thought of everything.

There is no way of sending a message. For once I wish I could use the Force to do that, but shove that idle thought aside.

On the deck again, I check my other possibilities.

My eyes wander over the smooth, white surface of the sails. At least they are intact.

A desert child knows about travelling by the blessings of the winds. They tell you about weather changes, about possible food sources, about mating partners and of so much more. If you are lucky you can even detect your enemies, provided that they are not very clever.

In my mother's tribe we even had trained with wind surfers to tax the warriors reflexes and intuition. Those fast, agile and unstable vehicles have a small driver's cabin and wheels that roll over the dunes of the erg, pushed by the wind.

Sailing a boat demands perhaps more skills, but I am prepared. I have to be.

Calmness enters my soul.

Luçien also has left me a compass, a sea map and a star cart. His fairness towards me cannot excuse his crimes against my protégés.

When my father had been slain by the soldiers of the House Ankoù, his heart had been ripped out of his chest and devoured by the very man that I had learned to call papa. This is an old war tradition among my people. I am keen to have my step-brother's heart.

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

Over the next few days I only take small naps in-between. I have to stay alert for changes in wind and oceanic currents. By keeping my hands busy, I distract my thoughts from what lies ahead.

On the third day, after the wind stopped blowing and the boat lies still until the late afternoon, I get the tool box from the machine room and with its valuable help I tear a wooden plank loose from the boat house. It is a thick plank and therefore suits my plans perfectly.

Working on that plank keeps me sane all the weeks that are to follow.

In addition to the weapon that I create, I steel my body with the exercises that Solitaire's holocron has once taught me.

I give myself three fixed moments during the day, when I train my muscles and senses: at dawn, in the midday sun and at dusk.

Standing on deck by every type of weather, the sea, the wind and the sun scourge me even more.

I let each moment count, loose myself in it.

The lance is finished at the moment the city state of Polysýndeton comes into view. It is every inch as I have wanted it to be.

My father used to have a lance like that. Count Ankoù, not able to break it in half, had put my father's head on it.

Blood rushes loudly through my veins while I sail towards the city state.

I want more than just Luçien's head. Much more.

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

(To be continued!)


DarthUncle
Kahara
earlybird-obi-wan

 

she is for revenge.

 

Which is a dish that is better served cold as the Klingons taught us, right? earlybird-obi-wan ?

I wonder what DarthUncle and Darth_Furio think of an update concerning this story.

For Kahara is a busy lady and deserves some time for herself. The same can be said about Chyntuck who assured me she has an eye on this thread, but has a lot of online and off-line duties. (This is why I did not tag her just mentioned her here!)

 

Agree with this. Placing Lucien's head on a lance is definetly for revenge. The Sith in me likes Isa very much

 

I knew you would say/ write something like that, my dear Darth_Furio.

 

Well, earlybird-obi-wan surely had it right, Isa is out for revenge. You describe her calm leathalness very well, very chilling. But I am not sure she will (yet?) get (go for) her revenge, as surely the situation upon her returning will be pretty dire, and she's a practical being, and a protector for the kids (those that are left if any), as shown by her resolute and matter-of-factly way of going about conquering the sees to get back to them, completely setting aside her fear of seas. So I expect her revenge will have to be served a lot colder still. Or perhaps she'll learn to serve hubris and stupidity by stepping over them, before revenge can be served. Hm, no, not quite that!

 

DarthUncle: Isa will get to Luc in ways we cannot imagine yet, until I spoiler everything. Anyway, thanks for reading and commenting. It always feels good to get some reaction. In your case it is always a straight to the point-observation.

 

And also this story updates this weekend, Kahara, DarthUncle, earlybird-obi-wan & Darth_Furio:


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

Long before I enter the harbour I can already see the signs of trouble ahead. Smoke is rising from the city centre. I do not like the colour of it. As a daughter of the dune sea, I know everything there is to know about the element of fire.

With every sea mile that I come closer the smell of burned human flesh and molten buildings turns stronger. My stomach is very upset, but I hold it in. Instead my eyes scan my surroundings. The destruction is foul and vast.

Somebody has noticed my return. A small figure, clad in a bright green toga, stands at the pier.

I let out a sigh of relief.

At least Grianán is alive.

I ask myself though who has gotten hurt instead. Or even died in my absence.

While I manoeuvre the ship in, another familiar person arrives. Though I have to check twice that it is really him.

Narthex seems to have aged a hundred years since I last saw him. His bent figure holds on to a walking stick and I pray it is just the sign of a curable injury. Nothing permanent, nothing that will hinder him for long.

“Milady.” His voice sounds as raspy as an old door whose hinges stopped working properly. It is in his eyes though where the true distortion lies.

“Who?” I ask as I leave the ship, bracing myself for the worst. “And how?”

The memory seems too heavy for Narthex. His knees give in. I hurry him towards the nearest pole. There I cradle him in my arms. I stand hovering above him like a bantha mother, who is dealing with a sick calf.

The valet is shaking through and through.

My eyes start to scan the surroundings again while I cradle the distraught man in my arms.

There is no harbour security, not even working crews. Polysýndeton seems like a city waking up from a dreadful nightmare and finding out that all was real.

Grianán stands close by. All the unspeakable horror, the sheer shock of events are written into her small face. Seeing her like this makes it clear to me that the survivors of House Tjiehenet need my protection. I will be their sword, their shield. What ever service needed, I will give it to them.

“Will you?” she croaks with the voice that almost sounds like that of an old woman close to death.

“Yes,” I answer before I am even aware of it.

Grianán moves forward. Shadows dance in her eyes. The dark side has come very close to her, but left her sane, if not unharmed. “You want answers,” she says. “I can give them to you.”

I let go of Narthex who has stopped crying and seems stable enough again to sit up without help.

“The Force gave a gift to me.” One of the girl's hands shoots forward. “Look through my eyes!”

Being touched by Grianán is like putting on a glove. Her mind fits into mine perfectly. We melt into one another and I let out a sharp breath.

The Force is unleashed, or better to say my sister Adamah is. In her most desperate hour, her heritage has come upon her. It actually uses her as a vessel in the physical world.

Guns claim a life of their own, shooting in every direction possible. Sometimes the laser fire hits living flesh, but in most cases only wood, stone or metal surfaces are shoot upon.

People howl in confusion and pain.

Aunt Calothrix passes me by at one of the open doors, clutching to a crying Khion. “Grianán, come with me!” she pleads. “You must not be out here!”

I have no time to follow her, because Uncle Kairos pushes me brutally. “Off with you, freak!”

The winged door is barred behind me and I hear Aunt Calothrix scream, “You monster! She is our niece!”

More locks doors are bolted from the inside, while Uncle Kairos barks, “I hope they all die today, the entire freak show that Agathos produced with that reptile.”

I turn away from the temple, just to see Sereno and Éleos sprint towards Adamah in the distance. Her eye sockets contain only yellow fire. The eye balls have melted away. My sister is truly gone. All that remains in the middle of the plaza is a lethal tool of the dark side.

My two brothers get swept away in the Force storm along with a few other unfortunate people. At least their skills of levitation will prevent them from crashing on the ground.

Somebody pats my head. It was Mother. “Stay right here and do not move! There is nothing you can do, Grianán. I will take care of this. It is my destiny.”

Helplessly, I watch her walking towards her own doom, her back straight. There is no false haste in her movements. She has an appointment with death and she knows it.

The buildings that surround the market place are on fire. This is not like a usual fire that can be found inside a chimney. No power in the universe can extinguish its unnatural heat. It will eat its way through the city and devour everything in its wake. I pray that Luçien has brought his family into safety. Their pretty yellow house is nearby.

Slowly, I walk until I am in the middle of the stair case, being forced to stop more than once.

Dead bodies and body parts are scattered around like neglected toys. My light shield only holds all the flying debris away from me. I have to be careful not to stumble.

Mother bursts into flames. Instead of letting go of Adamah, she holds her even tighter. It does not matter to her that my sister´s soul is already long gone. It is still the body she has given birth to.

Daná cries out in terror and Caelestris does all she can to calm her with little success.

Father collapses and rolls down the stair case. Grandfather runs after him, his face a mask of alarm.

“No more!” I reach into the depths of my being. My memories of the Force vortex are still there. I have to catapult them into the abyss around me.

My Midi-chlorians help me to accomplish the impossible, but there is a price to pay.

Blood vessel after blood vessel bursts inside my body.

All that is in the air falls on the ground.

Something red runs out of my ears in hot streams.

The Force storm dies in the distance.

“Please stop! Please stop! Please stop!” I repeat this sentence like a mantra as I cry tears of blood.

More red rivers seek their way out of me through the corners of my mouth. I do not mind. If I die right here and now, it will be for a good cause.

Then I stand directly in front of the smoking pile that once was Mother and my sister Adamah. Their bodies have molten into one another like two chunks of bantha butter. Despite what has happened, one of them is still alive and fully conscious.

“Mama? Mama? Can you hear me?”

Her emerald eyes open despite her severe burns. She looks at me with love. Her thoughts, drowned in unbelievable pain, reach out for mine.

Grianán cuts our mental connection again.

I stare at her in wonderment.

Destiny has denied me a bantha companion, but it has given me a different kind of bond. All the suffering, all the happy moments, my sexual abstinence and childless life, all has added up to this very moment. Due to the Force Grianán is part of me now and she will be forever.

My tears soak the golden shimmering hair underneath me in no time.

The girl holds still, so utterly still. I do not even have the strength to utter her name. There are no words in the universe that would bring ease.

“There is one thing,” she says very softly. “Be strong for me. I need you to make me strong as well.”

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

(To be continued!)

 

Awful for her to see