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

Je bent echt hartstikke lief.

 

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Hours later I find myself leaning against a spiky stone of the hamada. Solitaire kneels next to me. Like anybody else she is wearing a camouflage suit. It is an unusual sight for me. I just know my young step-mother in leisure wear, that always reveals too much of her womanhood.

“Slaughtering womp rats does not teach Isabeau a real lesson about the hardships of life!” She complains under her breath.

Flor appears next to us, her face stony. “One more word and I throw you down into the rat pit.”

I turn my attention away from the two quarrelling women and focus on the womp rat colony. There are at least fifty animals. It is complete madness to attack them all. We can never eat so much meat. It is a waste of food and life.

I stare at the ghastly beasts. The biggest of them is two meters wide with sharp teeth and claws, that make me swallow hard. Most of his companions are sleeping, because they are nocturnal animals. But some of them have their eyes wide open anyway and their bewildering iris shines with a strange glow in the semi-darkness.

“Enough of this,” Flor snaps, impatient as ever. “Tonight we must test if Isabeau has the ability to be a good huntress.”

“What, you let her go down there all by herself? With no weapon?” Solitaire explodes. “What sort of ritual is this?”

“You are an étrange.” Flor’s slanted eyes, filled with reproach and disgust, remind me painfully of Luc. “I do not expect you to understand the ways of our people.”

Tired of this pointless discussion I move away, closer to the nest. There is only one way to end this conflict.

I rise and pick up an old eopie bone that I spotted earlier. It is a femora, a thigh bone.This will do. I hold it high up like a staff.

If the womp rats have not heard us before they are surely aware of my presence now.

I am strangely calm, as I start walking.

After some heart beats, I am aware that my other step-mothers hold their breath. Even Solitaire and Flor have stopped talking.

The entire nest stirs and aggressive hisses are directed at me, but the womp rats do not attack me. They just sniff curiously.

Everybody can smell what is wrong with me tonight. This is so embarrassing.

A huge male womp rat jumps straight into my way. He is an ugly thing. His hair has turned grey at some spots. There are scars all over his body. After a closer scan I can see that parts of his ear lobes are missing. They are not more than shreds of skin. One of his eyes is also gone. A front tooth is clearly splintered. My instinct tells me that this is the boss.

I smile grimly.

The old battle veteran has come out to answer to my flimsy challenge. His claws hit me more than once, cutting through the fabric of my camouflage suit and leaving ugly marks on my skin.

I have to admit that he is damn fast and flexible.

Luckily, I am able to pay him back with my auxiliary weapon. That makes him more and more furious.

Due to a stupid stone lying around, I stumble and lose my balance. The eopie bone breaks into two uneven pieces. I clutch on to the bigger one.

“A importância de equilibrio”, I can hear a female voice say in the back of my mind. The importance of balance.

The male is above me in no time, piercing his healthy front teeth straight through my left arm.

I howl in blind pain, but have enough sense to drill my fist into one of his immense nostrils.

He does not like that at all. Driven by reflex he lets me go.

With my still functional arm, I reach out for the very stone that has caused me to fall. It is heavier than I thought it would be, but my anger and pain grant me credit. With a furious roar I throw it straight into the healthy eye of my opponent. He lets out a screech that makes the entire nest tremble.

Automatically, my hands reach for my ears, but my hurt arm stops me acting stupid.

“Finish him off, now!” shouts Solitaire from above. “Do it, cherida!”

Her voice fills me with the confidence that I need.

“Stop him screaming, or our ears will get damaged permanently!” Solitaire commands. “Arpão de Cabeça.”

Not only does this strange command make sense, it is frighteningly familiar.

I drown everything out – the ear-ringing sounds the old bull makes, droplets of blood coming from my nose, the other rats, my nagging headache.

With full force targeting I spring forward, throwing my entire body into the head butt and target the stomach of my opponent.

Even fully blinded the rat bull is a danger. His body is a lethal weapon. And I should not forget that he can smell me. His elastic tail swings round my neck, tightening around my air pipe. I drill my claws deep into the flesh of the leathery rat tail, but this time the pain does not distract him.

I gurgle, seeing black spots dancing in the air.

How could I have been so stupid to ignore this very weapon? Even if a true-blooded Lidérc has a tail, it is useless in combat. It is more helpful when sneaking around in dark places.

I feel how the old rat bull drags me closer towards his snout and murderous teeth.

His jaw stands wide open.

With a last effort, I ram the fragmented eopie bone into his throat and embrace the darkness that claims me.

 

Wow, Azure! That was some edge of seat stuff! Isabeau really pulled that one off.

 

I hear it's hard for people of different cultures to marry into different ones because things are different. What to you is normal or acceptable might border on taboo for them.

It looks like Isabeau has proven herself as a skilled huntress.


Sent from my iPadd from another galaxy using Tapatalk

 

WOW that was an intense fight. Hope she will be alright

 

Oh, I most definitely meant that in a good way. The previous entry was very rich information-wise, and that keeps the reader on tenterhooks...

... as did this one! This was an intense scene, both because of the fight with the rat but also because of the tension between the step-mothers. And in the middle of all this, Isabeau still has the time to think:

Yup. Reaching puberty isn't an easy moment in one's life. When you are trying to prove yourself as a huntress, it can even be life-threatening.

 

Dear Nyota, Isa is a feline creature, wild, unpredictable & resourceful. I wanted to show that in this update. Perhaps she was once a little girl that needed saving, but as Lucien is going to find out soon - spoiler alert - she rapidly changes these days. To freely quote from the novel "The Last Unicorn" by Peter S. Beagle: "You have let your doom in by the front door, but it will not depart that way!" (The old wizard Mabruk says these words to King Haggard when referring to the unicorn.)

When I created Isa´s character so many years ago, I wanted her to have a "Princess Leia-kick-arse-mentality".

Dear Misty, different cultures are indeed interesting. I was glad that my English institute offered us a seminar about cultural science (including stuff like face-losing acts and such).

I tell you soon, dear bird!

Dear Chyntuck, thanks for your kind explanation. In the past I had too much expertise & background information that I wanted to squeeze in. A gorgeous SWpants healed me a bit from that. I can do much better so, also in private life. For I am a dreadful chitter-chatter-box.

When re-writing my Isa story, I reminded myself that I should focus on her skill to smell things. Lucien does not have that. He is crippled in this sense. His sense of smell is more humanoid, not feline.

Okay, there will be a short up-date tomorrow. And here finally, my latest Isa painting. I hate that she always manages to look different:

 

But she is very feline this time

 

Great action sequence Azure. We all try a lot harder when we want to prove ourselves to others. About the painting, now matter how different Isa looks, she looks good!

 

Thanks, dear bird!

Thanks for telling me, dear Furio.

Because I am sick and feverish, I make this a quick update, folks:



Chapter 3:

I wake to the cracking sound of a close-by camp-fire. Above me the moon goddess and her sweet daughter stand high in the nightly sky. They bathe me in cold and serene light. My body is wrapped in a large womp rat fur.

“There has been an awakening,” somebody laughs.

I sniff carefully, almost shy.

Solitaire. My head jerks into her direction. She is about three feet away from me, still wearing her hunting garments. An eopie is flocked next to a single palm tree and looks at her full of curiosity. My step-mother leans over the camp-fire, brewing a strange substance in the cooker.

“Welcome back, She-Moon!
We’re glad to see you again.
Another cycle has passed
Another month gone bye
And our lives have moved forward.
Today is a new day…”

My heart skips a beat or two. “You know THE prayer.” Then I remember why that is and I smirk. “So it is true. Once we were your slaves. Genetically modified jungle cats who fought your Star Wars until you tried to dispose of us on this desert planet.”

“There is more to that than a master-slave arrangement.” She looks honestly hurt. “Your people belong to the Holy Isle of Cunabula, too. Together we are a nation of warriors. Take capoeira, for example. It can only be taught with mutual respect.”

“Capoeira,” I echo. This word stirs something deep inside me. It is like a desert snake uncurling from its sleep. A sleep that has gone for too long.

“Have you forgotten so much about your childhood?” Solitaire looks mortified. “As a member of Clan Riwalan you do not recall being brought up in the Quilombodos Tufãos? The wild heartbeat of berimbaus and pandeiros as they sounded together through the desert night?”

I have no clue what she is talking about, but there is this indescribable urge in me to have her speak on. A certainty that her words are the clue to my past as much as my future.

I try to wiggle myself out of the blankets and notice that she has tended my battle wounds. They have been washed out with salt water and smeared over with a honey paste that contains several herbs. She has covered her composition with layers of cotton cloth.

“Take it slow, your powers have still not returned fully,” Solitaire advises me.

My head is swimming with fatigue and pain, but also with a strange excitement. Whatever she is brewing it was almost calling out to me. “Where is everybody?” I babble. “What about the old womp rat? Why are we here in the dune sea?”

“One question after the other, cherida! Have a drink first.”

“A drink? Is that what it is?”

Solitaire turns away from me. Her right hand slips into a leather glove before she takes the kettle from the fire. Then she pulls a generous amount of her brew into a mug. “Judge for yourself. But be careful, it’s hot.”

Taking her kind warning into account I take the mug from her and drink as slow as possible.

The substance has a strange and rich flavour, dark and full of secrets.

A big smile widens her sensual lips. “Once upon the time, in a galaxy far, far away from here my human ancestors lived in jungle not unlike the mother jungle of Draconis. They had found a delicious bean that they sacrificed to their gods. But it could also be made into a beverage known as xocolatl, a word meaning ´bitter water´ in their language.”

As far as I could judge from the fire light and the moonshine that drink was almost as dark as the night sky. It was thick and creamy.

“This beverage can clean the mind and open new horizons to you, cherida.”

With every sip my thoughts drift further and further away. It is like falling into a spiral and travelling with it through eternity.

“Mother Nature is the most clever and talented architect of all. In the run of evolution she has created countless spirals, cherida. Galactic mists. The destructive powers of a tornado. Whirlpools. Resting snake bodies in the undergrowth of the jungle. Fern leaves. And glittering spider webs between the branches of the trees. Even the DNA molecules have their chair in the dance of creation. She is a unifying force that binds the universe together in its very essence.”

Her voice trails off and I feel like falling even more. I close my eyes for a while and when I open them again, I see my hands resting on my belly.

But something is wrong.

My hand is white, has gotten six fingers instead of five. A strange triple-spiral is painted on my skin. The pain that I feel is so strong that I suddenly understand why the ovaries of a woman are formed like tears.

I hear the monotone voices of many women that were accompanied by drums, rattles and flutes.

There is a smoke all around me. I seem to be in a cave, deep in the womb of the earth. Despite the fires that burn in this bewildering place, darkness sneaks around. It seems thousands of years old and turns the cave into a never-ending night that is without life and stars.

From the corner of my eyes, aching from the poor light and smoke, I sense a movement. I have to put much effort into seeing anything.

A woman comes towards me, bent by the burden of her age. Seen against the strange stone formations around us she is nothing more than a dwarf. But when she comes to stand directly in front of me, she is tall and proud. She wears a yellow sari with the sophisticated elegance.

„Ave, reginae devinae!“ she bellows in the ancient language of the jungle Ophidea. Greetings to You, divine queen!

I feel not like answering the hag, silently suffering from my pain. I do not want her to know how much I suffer. Not even with my thoughts. But I doubt that I even have enough strength left to utter a single syllable. They will have to cut me open, I know with grim captaincy. There are no other possibilities left. Eighteen hours of misery and the Unifying Force is not with me any more. Two babies are still stuck inside me.

„Videsne anguis anguem parvae?“ the hag asks me, a gentleness in her voice I did not expect. Can you see the little snakes?

I lift my chin a tiny bit. „Video“, I answer slowly. I see.

Then, seven freshly born snakes lie in the ancient hands of the hag. None of the snakes looks like each other. Each one has a different shade and colour than its siblings.

When the snakes slide down my chest, I shiver with anticipation. The tender bodies carry the smell of the world above with them.

I close my eyes and remember, a life that is not my own. The memories are overwhelming. Decay and the smell of flowers surround me. Fresh earth is under my feet and throb, full of life. A sunbeam lost itself in the semi-dark of the lower leaf region. The trees talk to me. Birds are singing and apes are teasing one another.

With a soft groan I split my legs apart and all gates open.

„Pange, lingua, gloriosi corporis mysterium, sanguinisque pretiosi, quem in mundi pretium fructus ventris generosi”, the hag calls out with joy. Praise, oh tongue, the secret of this body full of splendour and the priceless blood that, for the betterment of the world was spilled. Instead of a penetrating baby scream there is just silence in the cave labyrinth.

My baby girl is born dead. I will not have that. For I possess the power to cheat death. The Unifying Force better be with me this time.

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(To be continued!)

 

Well, I think that update showed her to be quite unpredictable & resourceful indeed. Tense situation, finding she underestimated her prey, but quick thinking lead to victory. Did I detect some echo of Luke's fight with the Rancor in RotJ? Cleverly done, if so.

I have to agree, both of those updates were rich in reading experience, one full of suspense, the other a tense situation; both showing us different aspects of who Isa is growing into.

Hm, maybe there's something in that, she's a person with a very clear identity, but not always showing the same aspects?

Great how you describe the evolution in your thinking about Isa and her story, and your own writing; the increased patience and focus with your character works very well, making this a very intriguing and interesting person to follow.

And this last update continues the adventure, very intense again, but again in a different way. And a new development in Isa's life: A vision due to chocolate? I guess I can be happy I am not force sensitive, because it seems quite disturbing.

Hope you get better soon, and looking forward to reading how the story continues.

 

Wonderful scene with Solitaire. Whom I like more than Fleur. Lots of stuff to absorb for Isabeau beyond the actual fight she just had and the aftermath.

 

Another chocoholic I like Solitaire interacting with Isa. And those visions. Isa sure has a lot to endure.

 

Dear husband, I am always glad when you find time to read & to comment. Thanks for all the hot herbal tea, the chicken soup & the good care while I was ill.

And yes, there was indeed an echo of Luke's fight with the Rancor in RotJ! I am glad that you noticed.

Dear Nyota, Isabeau is still in for a wild ride. Destiny is not finished with her.

But, dear bird, she will never be a chocoholic. She drinks her coffee black!

 

Another great character in Solitaire. Isa's vision is intense. The cutting her open? Is she looking for something, is someone else?

 

I really enjoyed Solitaire in this entry. There is an aura of mystic and mystery about her, in contrast to Fleur in previous chapters who seems more focused on norms and traditions without truly seeking to understand them. I may be wrong on this of course, because we've only seen a bit of her so far, but my impression is that Solitaire will be Isabeau's spiritual guide into adulthood.

And then that Force vision with the snakes and the stillborn... Wow, that was disturbing. I won't make any guesses at interpretation for now, I'll just wait for the next entry.

 

Dear Furio, all will be revealed soon. Especially the vision.

Dear Chyntuck, I am happy to see you along. Yes, the desert is a harsh mistress, even for those who understand her rules & live by them. Let us see where Solitaire might lead Isa to...

Before I am off until the 8th February, let me give you some Luke related fanart in my fanfic thread and a new update! Which is a bit longer than usual:



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“A dark light in the Force,” I mumble. There is a bitter taste in my mouth. I must have bitten my tongue.

“Don’t let this turn into a habit!” Even though Solitaire speaks these words with a soft chuckle I am annoyed by all means.

“I do not like falling unconscious non-stop, either!” I snap and throw the womp rat fur off me. My anger makes me hot despite the chill of the desert night. “You sound as if I would enjoy that very much. But I actually don’t.”

My voice breaks. I shake violently, hardly able to control my feelings. My fingernails have turned into claws. And my teeth are dangerous daggers now, ready to drill themselves into any possible flesh.

I run a shivering hand over my eyes.

Somehow I have lost the grip on my entire life within a few moon hours. There is one thing yet, that startles me more than it actually makes me angry: I start seeing, feeling, tasting and hearing sensations that are not my own. Am I possessed by a demon? Did my short encounter with The Others infect me with their dark magic? Or did Solitaire feed Midi-chlorians to me on purpose?

“You can do remote viewing!” Solitaire suggests, no shame whatsoever to spy on me mentally. “As for your other worries...”

Remote viewing. So my misery has a name to go by. I am damned certain that I will not be able to tear it out of my chest or my tormented mind. It seems to be a gift unasked for. Considering it, it might be a skill that other Lidérc might not approve of. Especially not my pious step-brother.

Overtaxed, I start crying like a baby kitten.

“Hush now!” my step-mother coos. “Pick up the fur, come back to the fireplace and have a cup of coffee. Perhaps giving you hot xocolatl wasn’t a very good idea from the start.”

“So why did you?” I blurt out.

All the strange sensations of the strange woman giving birth flush back into me, embarrass me to the very core of my being.

Solitaire’s hands on my shoulders are surprisingly gentle. “I am sorry that I did, Isabeau. Truly sorry. I wanted you to retrieve your lost memories of Clan Riwalan.”

I let my young step-mother embrace me, rock me back and forth. While I let her comfort me, the dark-skinned Ophidea shows me the same tenderness that she only reserves for the young ones of the homestead.

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After a long while, when my unnecessary and foolish tears have dried, Solitaire starts speaking again and I show no rejection. Her need to explain herself seems to be strong.

“Drinking xocolatl with red chilli pepper is part of the female initiation ritual. This was not always so, of course. Long before the Ophidiae mixed with the human refugees from a far away star system, their daughters drank the blood of their slaughtered enemies. It was the first god queen that changed this rite once and for all. We still drink the blood of our enemies though, but only in the heat of battle.”

Solitaire leads me to the camp fire. I am made to sit down next to her on a thick bantha hair pillow.She puts her cup down and crawls over to me. Her right hand begins stroking my cheek in a very intimate, loving way.

“Every form of life is holy. My ancestors did all their best to survive since they arrived on Draconis. There were immense sacrifices. A lot of things went utterly wrong. Some harm cannot be undone fully. But life went on. There is a force greater than us, a force that is inside us and around us. It binds the universe together.”

There is a sweet comfort in her words.

I remember the six fingered hand on a swollen belly, ready to give birth. “That was her, right? Your crown princess. Why did we forge a soul bond tonight, Arcānā and I?”

“Did you?“ Solitaire’s words sound more like a comment than a real question.

Desert nomads forge a very strong bond to their flock of banthas and eopies. This is the real ritual of womanhood. House Ankoù has deprived me of that when they took me into their midst. For some strange reason destiny has forged another bond for me tonight. With a person that is not even on this planet.

“The Unifying Force works in mysterious ways!” Solitaire muses thoughtfully. “You seem part of House Tjiehennet now. It is your destiny!“

I make a face.

Neither cursed Midi-chlorians, House Ankoù nor the Draconian crown can claim me. I am a daughter of the crossroads, desert-born. “It is not my destiny!” I mumble while Solitaire walks away from me. “I forge my own way, I walk a new path.”

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For the rest of the night my young step-mother remains silent, just staring into the dancing flames of our camp-fire. Her bewildering green eyes are empty, bare of any emotion. She seems to be lost in her own thoughts, in a place where I am not able to reach out to her. So I swallow down all the nagging questions that I still have left in me.

When the morning rises quietly in the East, Solitaire starts to build up a humble hunting tent. It will shelter us from the heat until the cooling shadows of the evening hours will claim their reign back. I would have loved to help her, but she insists that I should rest my hurt arm.

“Better concentrate on healing, cherida. I know what I must do. You have your tasks and I have mine. Teamwork is the best way of survival in the dune sea.”

For the following sun hours I fall into an uneasy sleep. The pain in my arm gives me weird dreams.

I see ancient battlefields splattered with blood and tears. Pure Lidérc, who wear spiked collars round their necks, tear Elfin warriors into pieces.

Then I find myself wandering around in the presence. There is a frightfully green landscape with plants that are higher than any palm tree could ever be. There is also a lot of water. It is part of that endless forest. The voices of children call out to me, teasing me lovingly.

A woman, donned in the colours of Clan Riwalan, walks between the trees. I cannot see her face, because she wears a war mask like a man. She gestures me to follow her to a majestic pyramid. It towers the entire jungle.

“The children of the Force, they need you!” the woman says and I recognize her voice to be my mother’s.

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I am glad when I wake up to the soft shapes of the erg in front of me: star dunes, crescent dunes, linear dunes, parabolic dunes. It is noon. A deep sigh of relief leaves my throat. I am home and safe.

In the meantime Solitaire has managed to set some coffee water for us. I am amazed to see that we also have a samovar with us. We are surprisingly well equipped, but I tell myself that a hunting party of House Ankoù would never leave the homestead without certain gadgets and luxury goods. The majority of my step-mothers are spoiled brats. I bet my youngest one is just well prepared.

Shading my eyes from the bright sunlight, I watch Solitaire drinking her coffee in slow and delighted sips. I wonder why she remains in the open desert with me, instead of doing her duties as the current lady of the homestead. This moon month she has been chosen to share papa’s chambers with him. That also includes bringing refreshments to his guests and giving the orders to the household staff. Officially, she is not to go on a hunting party.

“I told your father that your nomad rite of womanhood was by far too important to me,” Solitaire says out of the blue, while pouring me a cup of coffee. “He had to let me go then. Flor took over for me.”

Nervously, I take my coffee from her. I have a nagging question to ask. “You don’t love papa?”

She does not answer.

“Well, at least I know now why you felt responsible staying with me. You care for me.”

A dim smile lights her dark face.

“My first guess was that you did not wish to stay under the same roof with papa’s guests of honour, considering the ancient feud between your people and them.”

Solitaire looks surprised. “What guests of honour?”

“Two of The Others.” I try to remember their names. “I think it was a certain O’Maoilrian and a man named Ahearne.”

I jerk back when Solitaire’s irises change from emerald green to a yellowish fire. Her fangs are out.



“How dare he!” she yells, her fangs out. “How dare he!”

In her anger Solitaire is as beautiful and as frightening as a sandstorm. I stare at her with an open mouth, prepared to get my flesh torn from my bones. She raises her arms high above her head. Her own womp rat fur glides off her shoulders to reveal more of her muscular body.

I feel my throat getting tighter. Breathing becomes hard.

“Now his real loyalties show.”

Stars dance in front of my eyes.

“He will pay for this. I will make this known to my princess!”

Suddenly, my body lies flat in the sand.

“She will demand blood for it!”

Sand corns flood my nostrils and make me choke even more.

“House Ankoù is damned.”

At present I am the one being dammed. Invisible hands are wringing my life out of me. But I do not wish to die yet and certainly not that way. I gather all my strength together and press a last desperate roar out of my throbbing throat.

Solitaire’s bloodshot eyes widen. “Isabeau!”

Air streams back into my lungs. I am dizzy.

My step-mother reaches out for me, her face terror stricken. Her arms close around me. “I am so sorry, cherida. So sorry! I lost my self-control.”

I roll my eyes at her. “An... and I... al... almost my... my life.”

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During the next few hours I am not interested in speaking at all. My windpipe burns like fire. There is a constant nausea and my heartbeat does not settle down.

On top of all I am fed up by all the strange secrets that my young step-mother has brought along from Draconis. Being attacked by invisible powers that take one’s breath is the last straw. It is against the way of the desert

“We had no choice!” Solitaire mutters. I can spot her sitting at the other end of our sun shelter, her legs crossed. She is in her camouflage suit again.

I pretend not to be interested in her words and stare on into the dune sea. My eyes are perfectly hidden by my sun glasses.

“It was a question of survival when the refugee ship from Terra came down in the rainforest. They had to change and become one with the natives. But that brought a lot of changes to everybody. The reptile like Ophidiae were one thing, but the Midi-chlorians and the Unifying Force...”

She stares into the dunes for a long time.

“Let me be honest with you, cherida. The thing is I cannot claim real parents like you can. I was born without them. Some Ophidiae on the Holy Isle of Cunabula are very good cloners.”

I blink. “They are what?”

“I know that I use words and terms that you never heard before.” Solitaire is very smiley now. “Let me put it this way, there are many ways to give life to a child. Ways that may seem unnatural to you.”

I jerk around, teeth exposed aggressively. “Talking with you is like walking on quick sand. One answer leads to more secrets. No more, can you hear me? No more!”

Solitaire looks hurt and shocked.

My breath is coming hard again, but this time my own body is to blame. No invisible hand cramps around my bare throat. “Somehow I am glad that my people came here. Perhaps it was their destiny after all. Sand is pure and clean. The desert just has one voice and one face.” I narrow my eyes, looking straight into her surprised face. “Please leave me here! I can take care of myself. Just go back to the homestead and tell them I am fine. I will come back, but only when I am ready. Take the eopie! I have no need of it.”

Solitaire nods and I watch her wrapping a shawl around her face. She puts on a pair of sun goggles, mounts her eopie and both ride straight into the merciless midday sun. Her movements are elegant, almost regal. She does not look back.

“Just me and the desert.”

As soon as I cannot see my step-mother any longer, I start dancing under the desert sky. Like a sand spider I spin around, using mainly power and speed.

“Bohémienne. Je danse avec le vent. Tourner dans le vide, vide, tourner dans le vide, vide, tourner dans le vide...” I chant happily. Gypsy girl. I dance with the wind. Spin in the air, air, spin in the air, air, spin in the air...

 

Bravo on the contrast here with Isa and Solitaire's very intriguing conversations and then followed by Isabeau's solitary and serene time in the desert. You can really feel her getting centered and revitalized from all the stuff that has happened.

 

Lovely descriptions of the two women and their differences. Isa loves the beauty of the desert.

 

How do I keep missing an update???

Isa seems to be learning a lot about herself and the culture of her family.

 

Self exploration is something that all people can learn from. Isa seems to be understanding this. It will serve her well.

 

Ooh, so many revelations about Isa's past and origins, but also about Solitaire. It's interesting to see Isa grow into her own in the desert, where she feels at home, but I'm curious to know what is happening at the homestead too. Given Solitaire's reaction to the names of the guests, it can't be good.

 

Ch 2

Okay, this is repeating my earlier comments probably, but I love how we get such an in-depth look at Isabeau’s worldview and how it’s contrasted against Lucien and the others. Her early childhood still leaves her with a discomfort towards what she sees as excess, with the idea of bathing in milk seeming not just odd but wrong to her. And we also see more of the predatory nature that makes the feline features of her species not just cosmetic -- being hungry for raw womprat and wanting to tear the little alien guy apart!

The visions indicate that this extreme reaction to the aliens isn’t only ingrained xenophobia, and the conversation also shows something unusual about the relationship of her people to these mysterious acquaintances of her family. Clearly, she has never been told about the full story of whatever reasoning Lucien and Flor have for treating them with such respect, and actually being apologetic about the past. Understandable in a way that Isabeau has trouble with this new information, but her inability to turn her opinions on a dime when told to is aggravating the people around her.

I’m also curious about her stepmother Flor, who seems to have a complicated relationship with Lucien as well. My impression is that she is (at least outwardly) a “Miss Perfect” who always does as expected -- and slays womprats for a living. So who knows what’s really going on with her? Not her son or Isabeau, apparently…

Solitaire seems to be an ally of sorts to Isabeau, and it’s interesting that she’s both the “cool babysitter” that the kids like, and some sort of (dangerous?) Force-user who has no problems using a Force grip to intimidate the household guards. Yet another character with some interesting contrasts. And she’s one of the Ophidea that it seems like Lucien and Isabeau mentioned in their history lesson a while back.

Then there is the sudden change of status for Isabeau, and her introduction to the work of the huntresses. It’s interesting to see that Solitaire and Flor aren’t in agreement on how to go about this. I wonder how Solitaire the étrange ended up in their household anyway -- another youngster abducted from a defeated enemy camp like Isabeau, some sort of marriage alliance, random stranger with starship trouble who stayed forever?

Isabeau seems to have the hunting instinct -- no surprise given her previous behavior and feelings -- but it’s still a perilous learning curve. One has to wonder if Flor expected her to survive.

Really liked that painting of Isabeau; you say it’s frustrating that she always looks different (and I know what you mean, having my own woes with trying to draw people ), but I love that intense but slightly ambiguous expression -- there’s something almost vulnerable about her, even though she’s got the “cat watching a bird” single-minded focusing look.

Ch 3 (early installments)

The backstory here gets more and more intriguing -- every question answered raises more. Solitaire seems to know things (or guess) about Isabeau’s former life that she herself was too young to recall. And has a knowledge of historical matters too. Liked the incorporation of capoeira as a martial art in the GFFA too; it’s always sounded fascinating. Also liked the use of chocolate. (Which makes me curious how much the Ophidea may have in common with the Aztecs -- or with certain parts of their mythology, since the feathered serpent theme does spring to mind. Then again, your invented cultures have a lovely mix of different Earth sources and I’ll probably be surprised again.)

Isabeau’s vision is yet another mysterious hint at past/future/something or other; the strange switching between birthing twins, snakes (!), and the stillborn girl seems surreal -- and a bit unnerving as Force premonitions and/or memories go.

Leaving off here for now, so that I don’t let the comment wait too long. This is a wonderful SW fantasy novel and I am just amazed at the richness of it all.

 

Dear Nyota, I once read about the Bechdel test. It "asks whether a work of fiction features at least two women who talk to each other about something other than a man. The requirement that the two women must be named is sometimes added."

Looking at my old Marion Zimmer Bradley novels from the 80ies and comparing them to some of my SW novels, I clearly saw a problem. It also exists in the OT & the PT. In the new TFA it is nicely solved. And who really did it very excellent for the SW universe are the makers of the "Rebels" series.

What also fuels me also at present is a book I got for my 40th birthday: "Dark side of the mind. STAR WARS Psychology", edited by Travis Langley. This book is really a treasure and made me change a lot of the old plot of my story very recently.

And, yes, I also read all prequels to Frank Herbert´s "Dune". This also left an impact for my perception of the desert. An imprint that I passed on to my Isabeau.

Dear bird, I also love watching National Geographic & BBC History documentations. They enrich my stories, too.

Dear Misty, the learning curve is not over yet and if you really, really want me to, then I can send you an update PM from now on. Since I got into deep trouble with the rules of the fan fic thread twice, I am very careful and I also ended up slightly paranoid to be honest. Please PM me if you really want an update PM! That I am on the safe side. If I hear from a mod a third time, I run danger to leave the JC for good.

Dear Furio, I hope that she will be a good learner and achieve a lot for the future.

Dear Chyntuck, we might be back at the homestead soon. Spoiler alert!

Dear Kahara, you are right about Flor. There is a back story lurking there. And you are right about the Maya and the Aztecs. The Ophidea that live in the Mother Jungle of Cunabula, which is very much like the Amazonas delta, have indeed their roots in my fascination of foreign cultures.



Okay, now that I am back from the Harz Mountains where I stayed 10 days and:

* read 2 1/2 books
* re-wrote 2 new chapters of my current fanfic
* did 10 acrylic paintings, 18 oil crayon drawings & 10 water colour paintings
* made some ski trips of about 40 kilometres altogether
* did some hiking of about 20 kilometres
* wrote 1 letter and 40 postcards
* went shopping for groceries with my older brother twice
* had a sauna evening with my family at the ski club
* had a dear visitor from my university days for an entire afternoon
* did participate in the annual cheese fondue with 36 other ski club members last Saturday
* went to a thermal bath with my parents once

Well, I might come up with a short update tonight. I just need to check out what my dear beta Nyota's Heart found in the mistake department.

 

Sounds like a great time Azure.