Saga Hajii's Children (Tusken POV post-slaughter in AOTC; OCs) It's Aliiive! - Nov. 30

Sachélady: *tackles her biggest fan* Better late than never. I?m so glad you?re reading! As always, you have quite insightful theories.

Yes, we have seen the Watchers in the films; in TPM, they?re visible on the podrace track. A TPM book I found calls that part ?Mushroom Mesa?. They?re also quite visible for a few seconds in AOTC in the background of the Tusken camp just before Anakin leaps down from the cliff and causes mayhem.

Jane: Like I said to Saché, better late than never.

Is he ever swayed by Tusken actions? Would Maqel's penance have any effect on him, I mean? Hmmm.

My theory on that is that most Tusken deaths are attributed to the actions of Invaders, and not Hajii; when Hajii is responsible, the Tuskens figure the person suffering must really have done something terrible, since Hajii wants his children to survive, and that the victim got what he deserved. On the odd occasion, though, someone suffering has survived, and so anybody who fears death at Hajii?s hand offers penance like crazy on the chance that Hajii will relent.

You?re quite right; Maqel seems to run into death wherever he goes.

Speaking of which?


About this post: last time I mentioned that it was on the long side. Well, it turned out to be very, very, long, so I?m splitting this post in two yet again for those of you who don?t have the time to wade through thousands of words. Consider yourselves warned.

And without further ado:


~*~

When Maqel rose again, only Nejii remained in the sky. Hajii was taking his sleep already, and in a few minutes Nejii would follow. This was not always their order; as time passed, Maqel knew, their positions would change. It was part of their dance.

He felt neither rested nor relieved, and as he looked to the Sentinels he felt a curious sympathy with them. They, too, had felt Hajii?s anger. The Sentinels were silent, said the story, because they had given Hajii a false report and he had in return struck them dumb. He would have struck them blind and deaf as well, but for Nejii. She in her tranquility had declared that the Sentinels? eyes should be as Hajii?s eyes, and their ears as his ears, so that everything they saw or heard in the night would be as dreams to Hajii, and no report could be false.

It was a typical action of Nejii. In the stories, she appeared mostly as an afterthought, brightening the greatness of her husband?s mighty deeds or softening the blow of his wrath. She reacted in response to Hajii and not of her own volition; yet she made her voice heard. It was a curious thing, to be out of Hajii?s wrathful sight and face-to-face with Nejii alone for these few minutes.

Maqel found himself speaking almost before he knew what to say.

?Nejii, Guardian, intercede for me. I have offended Hajii, and my offense must be great, for your husband will surely torture and kill me if you do not intercede.

?I know I am his child, and your children are yet to come, but I will do anything you ask of me, Nejii, go even to the limits of the land, if it mean that Hajii spare me now and not kill me like an infidel.?

He panted. His prayer had drained him, and he had already drunk the last of his water.

Nejii was nearly at rest now; only her uppermost half remained visible, spread out across the horizon like wings.

?A sign, Nejii, a sign!? begged Maqel.

And as she slipped away, one shaft of light lingered like a feather of her wings or a finger of her hand; it struck a distant object and set it ashimmer, briefly, like the jingle of a handful of bells. Then it was all gone, and the night was dark as it should be save for the Sentinels. Yet Maqel was certain of what he had seen, certain as he was of his tribe?s demise and the black shape that was his only company. He clambered aboard his bantha.

?Up, Imu,? he rasped, and pointed her in the direction Nejii had pointed, north and west.

He found the ride jarring. His head throbbed and spun; he could not hold a com

 

*pulls out gaderffii and pokes thread*

This is just because it's a busy night and I don't know if anyone's seen this yet, mind. I'm not going to make a habit of it.

 

I like the concept of the glassman. Scarier still is the concept of the poison. Yech.

Eeep! Who is the shadow? (pointless, blathering question, yes I know- we'll find out soon enough- or will we?)

So now we know why the Sentinels are silent. Every post yields a little more color and life into the Tusken's history and culture.

 

Mina, I must say this is proving to be one of the most fascinating of your stories. The level of detail paid to each aspect of the Tusken society is incredible, and it puts them on a whole new plain of reality. Perhaps I still don't get all warm and fuzzy about them, considering what they did to Shmi and how they attacked Luke and all of the things they do - it is said that they tortured Shmi just to see how long a human could hold out against torture...not very nice - but neither do I think of them as "vicious, mindless monsters." They have a different culture, less forgiving and less eloquent, but still it is a culture. Awesome job at showing them to be intelligent and even a little inquisitive.

 

Whew, I'm getting behind on almost everything! Let me try to catch up.

Ah, so that's how the Sentinels report to Hajii. Fascinating, that everything they see and hear would be as dreams to him.

Good explanation of Nejii's personality here; acting in response to Hajii, yet making her voice heard.

That description of the body was scary at first! When I got to the part about the bar, I thought it was somebody who'd been tied up and left out to die! What a relief to get to the next paragraph and find out what it really was. Another fascinating element here (no, I can't find another word that fits as well.) Water and liquor I can understand, but poison? Definitely a different culture here!

There's that shadow again! And now it speaks? Tells Maqel to forget? But why?

Is this shadow the opposite of Hajii, and perhaps an opponent to him? Is he out to get Maqel for some reason, snatch him away from Hajii?

And then you leave us with a cliffhanger like that? ARGH! *checks calendar* Oh, good, it's almost Wednesday, I think I might survive that long ... barely ...

 

This story keeps getting creepier and creepier - yes, I do mean that in a good way! You evoke such incredible images - the glassman, the setting sun, Maqel riding across the desert. Really great writing - some of the most fascinating and intriguing stuff here.

Shaindl

 

Thanks for the thoughtful replies, everybody. I'll respond individually with the next post--I just wanted to note that today's post will probably be a little late due to Darth Class.

 

Saché: Danke. Yes, you?ll learn more about the shadow (muahaha) in good time.

Vi: Thank you. I agree with you that Tuskens are not warm-fuzzy-inducing people, and it would be bad characterization to write them that way?but I?ve grown awfully fond of Maqel over the course of this story, and changing your mind about his people?even a little bit?is a great reward.

Jane: I don?t mind hearing ?fascinating? twice. Yes, definitely a different culture. Interesting theory about the shadow, there. I?m sorry about the cliffie?but it?s Wednesday now!

Shaindl: Thank you! Believe it or not, this story wasn?t nearly so creepy in its first incarnation (a.k.a. the outline in my head.) Then I started actually writing and posting, and it took on entirely new dimensions. Glad to hear they?re working!



And now, a bit of relief?or is it?

~*~

His hand shook, and he slammed the stopper back into place with a rattle.

?No,? he said, ?this is not the way.? He closed his eyes and continued, ?If I am to die, it will be by Hajii?s hand and not my own, and until then my task is to live.?

When he opened his eyes and looked up, the shadow had fled. He felt warm again, not with the prickly heat of day but with the glow of resolution and relief.

In all this time Imu seemed not to have noticed the shadow at all, and was waiting patiently on the ridge. He rose and went to her.

?What is it to be, Imu?? he asked. He placed one hand on either side of her downy chin and looked in her eyes, black beads swimming in pools of gold the size of Maqel?s fists. ?If Nejii did not bring me here to drink poison, then what use am I to make of this corpse??

Imu returned his gaze without a hint of comprehension, but lowered her head and nuzzled the fabric of his robe.

Maqel looked down at himself. He was a sorry sight. His robe hung in tatters from the duress of his flight; his boots, which had long been in need of repair, were showing definite holes.

?Would it be all right, you think, to exchange my clothing for his?? Maqel asked Imu.

Imu rumbled.

?All right, then,? said Maqel, a little nervous.

He stripped himself of his rags quickly enough and shivered as the air hit his bare arms and legs. His underclothing he would keep, but the mask would have to go as well. The light looked different without it; everything looked different.

He knelt again beside the glassman, got his bearings, then squeezed his eyes shut and began divesting him of his clothing. Though the man was dead, Maqel felt it would dishonor him to view his bare and vulnerable flesh.

He fumbled a bit but eventually accomplished his task, discovering along the way a belt underneath the glassman?s outer robe to which was attached a leather pouch. This he added to the pile of clothing. Then, deciding he had taken everything necessary, he turned his back on the corpse and took hold of his old rags, ripping them into large flat pieces.

Closing his eyes a final time, he tucked the cloth over and around the corpse until he was sure it was entirely covered.

?Forgive me,? he said, opening his eyes. ?You ought to have had a fairer shroud.?

Then it was into the new clothes, the too-big boots and trousers and robe, the complicated mask with its yards of wrapping and the gloves that had no holes. He wrapped his trembling fingers around the gaderffii. After some thought he dipped the curved spike of it into the bottle of poison.

Not for me, he thought, but for an enemy. It was the proper way. By the movement of the Sentinels he judged that an hour had passed before he was done.

He fingered the pouch that was now hanging at his side to determine the contents. It was nearly empty; all it contained were a few sticks of incense, a flint and steel. His stomach gave a leap at the sight of the tools for fire. He had not drunk water in a day, but he had not eaten for three.

Better that I have no fo

 

The sparks rose and lifted; they formed feathers and fingers of orange and red fire. Hajii?s fire, Hajii?s fingers.

Fantastic, poetic description, Mina.

This shadow becomes more mysterious with each passing post. And would Maqel suffer any recriminations for taking on an adults' robes before he took his tests?

 

This is getting better by the word. And seeing as it was amazing at the begining, that means it's pretty darn good...

This shaadow dude is cool. Any relation to Exar 'the Dark Man' Kun, I wonder?

 

It's Wednesday! I survived, and I see Maqel did, too. What a relief!

He felt warm again, not with the prickly heat of day but with the glow of resolution and relief. Somehow, I don't think that's the reason -- I think it has more to do with the fact that the shadow's gone, at least for now. Or maybe it's a sort of sign from Hajii -- heat from the sun? -- that he really did make the right decision not to drink the poison.

Interesting that he thinks of exchanging clothes with the corpse. I'm not sure I would! But perhaps that's the reason that Hajii brought him here in the first place. Did I understand correctly that the Sand People have a sort of taboo against letting their bodies show? Why else would Maqel shut his eyes against seeing the bare and vulnerable flesh of the corpse? (Fascinating detail, by the way!) He took the mask, too ... it's a bit like a snake shedding its skin for a newer, bigger one, isn't it? A symbol of growth, of coming into manhood?

The shadow's back again, and the chill with it! Ah, yes. But like Maqel, it's bigger now. And more scary, with this imitation breathing and no face beneath the hood. Why was it foolish for Maqel to turn his face from the shadow? Will this mistake have consequences later?

Wonderful, as always!

 

I loved the detail of this post. What a society and culture you're creating. The exchange of clothes was, I think, in perfect keeping with how I imagine Sand People. To survive in such a harsh climate, they would have to be incredibly practical, and the use of another's clothing, if in better shape, would make sense. But interesting that he closes his eyes to avoid violating the body (at least in his mind). I'm curious to learn more about the shadow. It seems to only appear when Maqel isn't concentrating on it, but will only stay if he does concentrate on it, if that makes any sense. Likely not, but my brain is fried.

Can't wait for more!

Shaindl

 

Oooh, this fic is getting very scary
Very original. I don't know how you come up with all this alien culture.

 

Fascinating work!

The culture you're creating here is original, deep and very real-seeming. I feel total empathy with Maqel and his struggle for survival.

I also wonder about who "told" Maqel's friencds to keep Shmi captive...

I'll keep an eye on this!

 

Eeep! I completely missed the weekend update.

Darth School has set in for real; beyond that, I've caught up to the posts I had pre-written. That is, I have an outline, and certain farther-ahead posts, written, but the very next one has yet to be committed to paper. (I still write everything out longhand first). Thank you for all the kind replies--there will be individual responses with the next post, which I will try to have up by Wednesday, and hopefully after that there will be no more delays.

 

Wow, this is an excellent fic. Always wanted to read something from the Raider POV. Very detailed.

 

Wow! This is excellent. I felt as if I was there. Awesome talent. Me going to keep an eye on this.

 

A very interesting story, never mind the OCs! It is fascinating to look into the mind of a creature who usually for Lucas and for most of us fans is nothing more but an animal. I like their religion and mythology, and the dreaminess of the story.

 

Ooh arr ooh arr ooh arr up!

 

Please tell us there's a new post coming soon and that you're not abandoning this fic!

 

She won't abandon it, not Mina. She's just caught up with that darn Darth School.

**looks at Expensive Piece of Paper on office wall** Mwuahahahaha.... no more HW for me.

(On the other hand, my best escape for not updating is gone )

 

Darth School has indeed proved stronger than I anticipated. I hope my absence has not alienated any of you?and I promise that this story will never be abandoned.

Sach: Thanks. Would he suffer recriminations? We?ll see?

And thanks again for the support. I?m looking forward to that little piece of paper.

Blended: Thanks for the up!

Jane: Yup, the taboo was one of the things I picked up from the OS. It didn?t say anything about dead bodies, but Maqel decided for me that he wouldn?t want to risk it.

it's a bit like a snake shedding its skin for a newer, bigger one, isn't it? A symbol of growth, of coming into manhood?

Ooh, another theory about the significance of changing clothes. (And yes, it does have significance.)

But like Maqel, it's bigger now

I like that point!

And no, I will never abandon this fic! *brandishes lightsaber* Nevah!

Shaindl: To survive in such a harsh climate, they would have to be incredibly practical, and the use of another's clothing, if in better shape, would make sense.

Enter Theory Number 3. I love you guys!

It seems to only appear when Maqel isn't concentrating on it, but will only stay if he does concentrate on it, if that makes any sense.

I think you could be right about that.

Cat: Not too scary to read, I hope. Coming up with the parts of the culture that aren?t already outlined by the OS has been one of the most rewarding parts of the story. Sometimes a piece of the culture will dictate a piece of the plot.

Shloz: Welcome to the story! I hope the delay wasn?t offputting?I promise not to make a habit of it. I?m glad you like it so far, and that the rest of the story answers your questions about the beginning.

JediMasterKobe: Another new reader! Welcome! I?m so glad you enjoy it.

J_M_Bulldog: Three new readers? *falls over* Has someone been advertising this behind my back? Welcome welcome welcome, and I hope you stay!

NamelessAlien: Welcome! (Okay, four can?t be a coincidence, right?) And thank you. I?m so grateful for your comments on this corner of the GFFA.



And heeeeere it is, the much-awaited NEW POST!

~*~

Maqel did not discern the moment he fell to sleep, only perceiving gradually that the world had been reduced to colors, pure colors, without shadow or variance to besmirch them. There was blackness. Then points of red and white winked into being and spun until they were long, thin threads of lights twisting and dancing. Like dragons they moved, sliding in and out of one another until there was only one dragon, red-backed and white-bellied. It slithered in the dark. It folded back upon itself and forward again, but never tangled. Then threads of blue-green dropped from above and sprang up from below and joined in the middle?but the middle was everywhere, the middle was him and he was it and he was spinning and spinning while the colors held still.

The threads of blue-green quivered and shivered and spoke.

?You court the curse,? said one.

?Hurry and grow,? said another, rearing itself up.

?Please,? begged a third, trembling, and then they all began to speak at once.

?You?ll never make it.?

?Where will you go??

?And who will avenge us??

?Run!?

?Invader!?

?Where are you??

?Hajii save us.?

They piled up, one on another in growing cacophony, until Maqel could comprehend none of them. The howl of voices reached its crescendo and then quieted, the strands of blue-green winking out one by one.

The last whispered, ?Please,? and was gone.

The red-and-white dragon of light swished through the void, whirring and rustling as it moved but voicing nothing. Gradually it grew shorter, as though it had foun

 

Willie! This story is so beautiful and intricate...I love it. Definetly original, and I love the legend of the Watchers and the sky-walkers. Beautiful!

 

Poor Maqel!

 

As powerful and lyrical as all the other posts, Mina, m'dear. However do you do it?