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  1. In Memory of LAJ_FETT: Please share your remembrances and condolences HERE

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

Discussion in 'Fan Fiction- Before, Saga, and Beyond' started by AzureAngel2, Jan 7, 2016.

  1. AzureAngel2

    AzureAngel2 Chosen One star 6

    Registered:
    Jun 14, 2005
    When you finally come around to drop comments on the JC boards, husband of mine, you get to the very core of things. If I would ever steal from a cookie jar, you would know straight away. Even if I would give my best NOT to leave obvious traces behind.



    Plus you know my habits fairly well. The good ones and the bad ones. O:)



    Thanks, dear bird. More of it will come next weekend.
     
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  2. AzureAngel2

    AzureAngel2 Chosen One star 6

    Registered:
    Jun 14, 2005
    Dark adapted eyes, Chapter 6:

    Neither his scent nor his footsteps have announced Vicomte Ankoù’s arrival. Yet, he stands in front of me from one heartbeat to the next; a nightly shadow that comes into life.

    “But there is nothing to talk about,“ I hiss.

    “I think there is,“ he denies calmly. “Since twelve nights you have not spoken to me. And when you are not busy hiding from me, you hunt like obsessed around this region. Our storage rooms are richly filled with meat, much more than we need. You disturb the natural balance of the hamada.”

    I am taken aback. “Are you papa’s main hunter now? I thought that was your mother’s task.”

    “I am all that serves the common wealth of our homestead,” comes his lame answer.

    “So you need to be a murderer. A witch hunter even.”

    Vicomte Ankoù closes his eyes. “We are both hunters for House Ankoù. Your bait has four legs and mine has two. The dark side is cunning.”

    “Perhaps, but I will not return home with you!”

    The black leather of his gloves produces an unpleasant sound as he makes a fist. “You are a daughter of the House Ankoù. And I want you to act like one. Your lack of discipline is quite unnerving these days. You dishonour the entire homestead with your inexcusable behaviour.”

    “Are you going to kill me now?” I roar out. “Come on, only the stones would witness your dark deeds. You could pretend it was a hunting accident.”

    His shock is honest. “I never could harm you, Isabeau. You are my sister.”

    The words have rested in me for an eternity. They come out hard and merciless. “I am nothing more than your bait of war. This is the only reason why I am alive and the rest of my clan is dead.”

    His voice shivers more than his body. “Oh, ma petite sœur!” he moans in our mother language. Oh, my little sister!

    The voices of the wind move through the canyon, whispering their stories from far away. Draconis is clearly to be seen in the night sky. A green emerald, holding ancient curses and mysteries.

    At some point Vicomte Ankoù leaves. His walk does not possess his usual strength and elegance.

    I bend my head in prayer again. The honour to my prey is unpaid still. I hope there will be no more interruptions tonight.

    There were but two beneath the sky -
    The thing I came to kill, and I.
    I, under covert, quietly
    Watched him sense eternity
    From quivering brush to pointed nose
    My spear to shoulder level rose.
    And then I felt (I could not see)
    Far off a hunter watching me.
    I slowly put me knife by,
    For there were two who had to die -
    The thing I wished to kill, and I. “

    When all the flesh, the bones, the inner organs and the blood of the ram are stored safely, I get up.

    It is time to retreat to the sanctuary that I have created for myself. My own serail in the waste lands.

    What Vicomte Ankoù cannot know is that I have more reason to despise him and distrust him than ever before. My solitude has not only been about finding food for the homestead. Or learning to deal with my complicated emotions. Even from the grave Solitaire has been able to communicate with me. Her calculation and planning have been superb.

    It is a walk of seven miles, but my feet are as light as my heart. Finding that cave has been a blessing.

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

    The night sky above me slowly changes colour. Dawn is on it’s way. Soon the moon goddess and her virgin daughter will hide their faces to let the sun rule. But long before that I will have reached my destination.

    My little serail contains no great luxuries, but all I need to survive the hot daytime hours: a thick wooden box with a large supply of café, a brazen samovar, enough drinking water for two moon months, some eating utensils and several wooden blankets.

    Yet, the greatest treasure, that Solitaire has hidden for me in this cave, is a strange object that has the form of a little pyramid. Mysterious looking symbols are engraved all over it.

    I put some honey into my tea and swing my wooden spoon around idly.

    Solitaire implanted most of her knowledge and memory into this object. Only I can activate it. She tuned it to my biodata.

    Holocrons were originally developed from Draconian scientists to pass the wisdom from one god queen on to her successor. But later it became common as a means of exchange in the warrior caste, too. The priesthood followed.

    Due to the object that Solitaire meant me to have, I know that she has not been a mortal enemy of mine. Our relationship has endangered her mission and she had to take desperate measures to end it successfully.

    I place down my tea mug and reach out for the holocron, that lies nestled safely in a blanket.

    By my sheer touch it springs to life, filling the cave with a blue glow.

    The small counterfeit of my step-mother, nothing more than a translucent figure, hangs in the air before me. “Cherida, you have a question? How may I serve your hunger for knowledge?”

    I look down at the shimmering figure with tenderness and love. “Tell me about your mission here on Sapuhru. Again.”

    “As you wish.” The small representation of my young step-mother bowed. “I have been the most promising clone that was born of the special breed. Ophidiae and Lidérc bloodlines have been crossed for me. Having no natural parents I grew up regarding Arcānā as my mother, sibling and mistress. I received not only the special warrior training of a royal princess, but was also introduced into...

    “I want to hear more about the plan, Solitaire.”

    The blue figure nods solemnly. “In the beginning there where two species living on Draconis: the Ophidiae and the Midi-chlorians.

    “Here we go again,” I mumble.

    Soon I am losing thread of how exactly these species battled with newcomers and then each other. But luckily I catch up again at the end of the story.

    “... So the Midi-chlorians offered their help to link all the races in harmony if the newcomers would bring back the balance that had gotten lost at a point long before. A golden age dawned in which all of the races learned the best from one another to the better of the planet and its inhabitants”

    I get up, holding the vibrating pyramid in my palms. “Is Luçien’s real father one of those last god-like beings that survived the Star Wars?”

    “Dealg was not very happy with how the Midi-chlorians and the Ophidiae treated the Elves. First the sanctuary seekers were driven to the snow topped mountains, where they had to live under harsh conditions. Then the god queens decided to root them out because their unnatural long live would destroy the balance.”

    The thought of the Circle of Life being attacked makes me fearful, too.

    “The Midi-chlorians agreed because the powers that the strangers possessed would not share the same origins as their own,” the counterfeit of Solitaire explains, her voice even. “They feared another harsh war that would destroy the living heart of the planet once and for all.”

    This talk of Midi-chlorians makes me tired and angry beyond any means. From my point of view people are gifted because of the parents heritage and not because of little parasites that swam around in the blood streams. Talent and training matter.

    My eyes search for Solitaire’s. “And when you found out all the things you needed to know about Luçien, what happened next?” This is the complicated part and I am prepared to ask it over and over again, until I am sure I really understand.

    “When I found out about his heritage I became to understand that my path home was blocked and that I was stranded here. Luçien moved heaven and earth to isolate me. I could send no message back to Arcānā, even though I found some of her lost agents. They had become part of the wild nomad tribes, but they are weaning in number. Luçien and Alezan see to it.”

    The roar I let out aloud is fierce. Enraged with House Ankoù I throw the holocron straight through the crave. Before it can crash with solid stone, a hand catches it.

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

    (To be continued!)
     
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  3. WarmNyota_SweetAyesha

    WarmNyota_SweetAyesha Chosen One star 8

    Registered:
    Aug 31, 2004
    Oooh, whee! That's interesting! Holocrons always are, but Solitaire - ;) =D= And the things she has to say. [face_thinking]
     
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  4. AzureAngel2

    AzureAngel2 Chosen One star 6

    Registered:
    Jun 14, 2005
    As you may have recognized as my beta, I cut some things out of this chapter, because I did not want to lose myself into too long explanations & history lessons. [face_blush]
     
  5. Lady_Misty

    Lady_Misty Jedi Grand Master star 4

    Registered:
    Mar 21, 2007
    Ah Isa, you can never fully trust some people. It's a sad truth and some find it a hard fact to swallow let alone believe.

    Not to mention history is either dictated by the victors or whispered by those bitter about the loss of power: somebody has reasons to lie every so often when they have something to gain.

    *nods head in Palpatine's direction*

    Not to mention there are some things that are meant to never see the light of day ever again because they are so terrible. And some knowledge does more harm than good.

    *remembers the closing scene of the season finale of Star Wars Rebels and shivers*

    Some knowledge is more dangerous than what goes 'bump' in the night. Don't become corrupted by people you wrongfully think you can trust because you don't understand the whole situation.


    Sent from my iPadd from another galaxy using Tapatalk
     
  6. earlybird-obi-wan

    earlybird-obi-wan Chosen One star 6

    Registered:
    Aug 21, 2006
    Midi's and holocrons are always interesting. But Midi's can corrupt and lead one to the dark side
     
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  7. Darth_Furio

    Darth_Furio Chosen One star 8

    Registered:
    Apr 17, 2008
    Great update. I love holocrons and mysteries behind them.
     
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  8. AzureAngel2

    AzureAngel2 Chosen One star 6

    Registered:
    Jun 14, 2005
    Dear Misty, I watched that final, too, and asked my husband to play the last scene 3 times.

    The fun thing is, I wrote the original scene between Isa & Solitaire in that cave long before January 2008. So I had not watched "Rebels" back then. But there are indeed many similarities between Maul & Solitaire...





    Dear birdy, I knew you would say that/ write that. Yeah, I am a clairvoyant!




    Dear Furio, I hope you will love this update, too, which contains some ancient sith spells...


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

    The hand is chalk white and four fingered. I gasp in surprise. Annoyance sweeps through me as the holocron gleams with such an intense ray of light that my eyes feel like being on fire.

    “Cave ne ante ullas catapultas ambules.” Solitaire’s bodiless voice proclaims with a mean chuckle. “Ita, te adloquor.”

    A sacrilege is committed in front of me, and I cannot turn my head away. My curiosity is stronger than the pain.

    “Prospice tibi - tu quoque in tres partes dividaris.”

    O’Maoilrian screams and screams and screams. I was not aware that any male being can have such a high voice. Flashes of lightning crackle through his body. I can see the outlines of his bones underneath his skin and flesh. The skulls of Elves are so frighteningly similar to those of my people, especially around the eye sockets.

    “In tempore praeterito plus quam perfecto de te mox dicent.”

    Solitaire’s laughter builds up to a dreadful crescendo.

    The light gets so bright that I have to shut my eyes and hide my face.

    Then I hear the yell of agony from another male voice: Ahearne.

    When my eyes are able to perform their usual duties again, O’Maoilrian is in a bad state. He is having violent seizures. His right hand is burned beyond recognition. The fingers have melted together.

    Ahearne hovers above his companion. Tears are running down his haggard, sun-burned face. “Temnén! Ar son Bandé! Is mise is ciontach leis!”

    Out of a sudden he turns around to a shadow that is standing behind him. I only can make out the silhouette of a very large, muscular humanoid. Ahearne shouts an order that contains my step-brother’s name. “Fabhcún! Viscount Ankoù! Déndeifir!”

    The shadow vanishes into the desert dawn outside. Whatever it has been, it strangely smelled of bird feathers and Elfin blood.

    “What have you been up to, lass?” Ahearne asks with trembling lips. “Have you any clue how dangerous the dark magic of Cunabula is? You could have killed yourself. Look what that thing did to my soul brother.”

    My eyes narrow. “You and your companions entered my cave without any allowance. A dubh sith should know better than to touch a holocron, shouldn’t he?”

    He blinks at me, astonished that I know the Elfin word for a ’dark elf’. “True, true, but...”

    “Why are you here? Who sent you?” I interrupt him harshly. My hands twitch. I am not in a mood for silly guessing games. My mouth still remembers the taste of the goat’s blood. “Are you spying on me for my step-brother?”

    “What?” Ahearne is totally taken aback. “I never would dare to get entangled into the affairs of His Lordship, especially not when they concern his honoured family.”

    I wonder what honour has to do with the House Ankoù. They are a bunch of murderous villains, conspiring against the Draconian Crown. “Why are you here then?”

    He blushes. “This cave looked empty even though Ciall had a strange feeling about it. So he wanted to check out the situation. For some daft reason he tried to catch the holocron.”

    “You cretins just looked for shelter in the middle of nowhere, right.”

    His brown iris turns into an unhealthy yellow. So he has indeed wolf blood in him, as Solitaire has claimed. The Elves have done dirty genetics experiments in order to win the star wars so many centuries ago.

    “Believe what you want!” Ahearne snaps, all of his normal gentleness exhausted. “My anam ċara is dying on me. This is more than I can bear. I already lost the woman that I loved more than life itself: Adamah.”

    This dirty Elf hound is a liar. Ruadhan killed Adamah in cold blood during an audience. In fond memory Arcānā called her eldest daughter after her older sister. The holocron has told me all about it.

    I reach down to the holocron that is still laying on the floor. It seems deactivated, but at the sheer touch of my fingertips it lights up again.

    “Cherida, somebody found me. A servant of the darkness. Get out of there, now!”

    “I have everything under control. You fried that thing alive. Well done.”

    Ahearne shoots a reproachful glance at me which I answer with a big grin.

    “Can we speak openly?” Solitaire’s figure asks.

    “Later. Better if you deactivate yourself now,” I suggest. “I fear Luçien is on his way to save the life of his ally.”

    My step-mother gives me a small and formal bow and the holocron goes off again. I put it in my hunting bag, that hangs from the ceiling. Certainly Luçien will not check for it in there.

    “So this devilish woman found a way to reach out to you from her grave and poison your mind, lass,” Ahearne says gravely.

    “How dare you talk about my step-mother! She fell victim to the cruel traditions the city people have. The desert tribes welcome every drop of new blood in a clan. In the cities unwanted children get slaughtered. This is civilisation for you!”

    “Then have a look at my anam ċara, lass. He is also an innocent victim of tradition.”

    As Ahearne tears the hood from the other Elf’s head I have to gaze at an unhealthy white skull. Dreadful scars are all over it. No single hair grows on the uneven surface.

    “His own father took his scalp, after he flocked Ciall for hours. Then he had him castrated by the horse master of his stables and thrown from the top of the highest tower of the castle.”

    I stay unimpressed and answer, “I bet the old O’Maoilrian had some very good reasons for it.”

    The bitterness in Ruadhan Ahearne rises with every word he is able to speak. “The problem of my race is: they think too much in terms of black and white. I expected better of you, lass. The bohémien of the dune sea always seemed very reasonable to me. Your own mother gave us food and drink when we were close to dying. Of course Marquise Chaleur Riwalan was not happy saving our lives, but she knew about hospitality and honour. She did not harm us while we were in her desert camp, although she made it clear that she wished to never see us again after we left”

    I sink to the floor. “You claim to have known my mother?”

    He nods his eyes resting in the past. “Her Ladyship was quite a beauty. Dangerous as the desert storms that roam the erg. Nobody could deal with a leather whip as well as she did. You have her eyes, lass, and her temper as I found out during our very first meeting in the city.”

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

    (To be continued!)
     
  9. Darth_Furio

    Darth_Furio Chosen One star 8

    Registered:
    Apr 17, 2008
    Interesting developments with the mother aspect.
     
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  10. Lady_Misty

    Lady_Misty Jedi Grand Master star 4

    Registered:
    Mar 21, 2007
    I really hope Isa gets help; she needs it desperately.
     
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  11. Kahara

    Kahara FFoF Hostess Extraordinaire star 4 VIP - Game Host

    Registered:
    Mar 3, 2001
    Things keep getting deeper, darker, and more complicated and it seems that there are no innocents in this ancient galaxy -- though there seem to be rather few villains that one can be entirely confident about either. [face_thinking]

    Much of what we now know about Solitaire's strange life and death suggests she was a Palpatine of sorts, someone seeking to influence Isabeau even beyond the grave for some Sith-like purpose of her own. Something related to whatever mystery mission the Ophidiae had her sent on, it seems. And yet I find myself believing that she really did think this was for her student's good too, and that her beyond-the-grave manipulating would somehow prove to be a positive thing.

    With all the new revelations and old memories that recent events have unleashed, Isabeau is rejecting her surroundings more than ever -- even the person she was closest to has become an enemy in her eyes, it seems, since she'll only refer to him as Vicomte Ankoù now. She's becoming more than a little dangerous to be around, I think. [face_worried]

    House Ankoù sounds more dodgy than ever, but one always got the impression that they were not generally nice people. (Of course, they don't exactly live in a kind world to start.) I feel a bit bad for Lucien anyway, since he's evidently been brought up in a twisted way and he probably really, literally, won't be able to understand why Isabeau can't accept the House-first-ethics-later approach to life. There is a lot about him that we don't get to see from the limited POV either, like what was going on with the falcon -- obviously, there is a lot about him that Isabeau doesn't even know that she doesn't know.

    The elves are a mystery that I'm curious to know more about. (Also, I'm pleased in a nerdy sort of way at them being also known as dubh sith. I've wondered for a long time whether Lucas named his bad guys after the Sidhe/Sith/etc. of Celtic folklore and myth. And I know you've got an interest in that stuff as well, so it's fun to see that here and there. :)) Ahearne has plenty of closet skeletons but it's hard to dislike him given his level-headed approach and loyalty to his friend. Still, it's pretty clear that their people aren't exactly lacking in disturbing tendencies either, what with the public murder and the mutilating and all. There must be something off about that society too.

    The descriptions of Isabeau's world continue to fascinate me; I like how you use different kinds of sensory description in making the environment seem "real" and immersive.
     
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  12. earlybird-obi-wan

    earlybird-obi-wan Chosen One star 6

    Registered:
    Aug 21, 2006
    Interesting with the dark elves and Solitaire
     
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  13. AzureAngel2

    AzureAngel2 Chosen One star 6

    Registered:
    Jun 14, 2005
    Thanks for noticing, dear Furio. You are as just as attentive as my husband about those things. :D


    From my own experience, there is no help most of the time. Especially when situations are very dire. One needs to help one self, dear Misty. Real strength can be only found inside one´s own heart. Sometimes the search goes on for many years.


    Dear Kahara, thanks for your long and expert feedback. Yes, things get darker and more complicated before I might switch on a light in a very unexpected direction. Let me just tell you that Solitaire really learned to care for Isabeau, Isa is a sort of time bomb, the Lidérc are the wild, unpredictable descendants of jungle cats that got a DNA-treatment after all, Lucien thought to be right long before Kylo Ren ever existed and yes, I looked up my Celtic myths very carefully. Thanks for liking Sapuruh, even though I cannot decide where to put the "h" in its name at times. Some stories about Mars began to fascinate me as a child. Combine that with my love for documentaries and you get a strange planet like this.


    Now my next update, where you definitely will get more of them, dear bird:


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

    After the mentioning of my birth mother Ahearne and I remain silent for a very long time. The only thing that I can hear is the irregular breath of the dying O’Maoilrian.

    I am strangely at peace. My mother lives on in the memory of another soul. Even though the being is an Elf.

    Now a tiny piece of me even wishes for O’Maoilrian to stay alive. The more people remembering my mother, the better. And Elves have unnatural long lives after all.

    “Do you hate me so much because of Adamah’s death?” Ruadhan Ahearne asks suddenly.

    Taken aback, I nod.

    “I thought so. Most supporters of House Tjiehennet hate me for that.” More tears shimmer in his eyes, run softly over his cheeks. “But fact is that threw herself into her husband’s blade in order to save my life. This may not be the official version that is told by Draconian civilians, but it is the truth. Ask Senator Aletheia. He will confirm that Adamah and I were lovers.”

    My eyes widen in indignation.

    “Things can get very hot at the Beltane fires, you know.” He dares to wink at me. “I did not even know who she was nor did she know who made her pregnant. We were both so drunk and the night was full of love.”

    Alcohol is always a bad idea. As a desert creature I know best.

    “When our ways got entangled for a second time Adamah had a horse accident. Things got a little mixed up and the royal family thought I had kidnapped her. They sent out messengers with death warrants. I wanted to end this nonsense. When I brought her back to the castle, with Avel and some of the gang in tow, we were all arrested. During an audience in the throne room things got very, very dirty. Especially when Adamah proclaimed her love for me in public. Her mother did not like that. And Arcānā, oh don’t ask! She really, really lost a grip on herself. A dangerous creature she is, full of darkness and destruction.”

    He sniffs loudly, hiding his face behind his large, hairy hands.

    “And before I knew what happened Adamah was dead, beheaded. And our child, our little daughter...”

    His story drowns in a flood of hot tears.

    I give the bag in which I have hidden the holocron a thoughtful look. It seems that the truth about an event or even a person depends on one’s point of view. A general truth does not seem to exist. One's own heart has to be the compass.

    This man in front of me really suffers from his loss. He is not the murderer that Solitaire has described.

    Perhaps it was better when I try to stick to my own judgement from now on and ask the holocron not too many questions any more.


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

    The hours blend into one another. Ahearne has taken off of his dirty tunic in order to cover the broken body of his companion. So I have a pretty good view of his bare skin. What fascinates me most of all are all the blond hairs that grow on his chest, on his muscular arms and even on his back. He has many scars as if he has been attacked by a predator ages ago. They are all over his torso, angling from his left shoulder down to his right hip. One of his eyebrows and the lid underneath it are split in half. His nose is not sitting very straight in an Elfin face that has high, almost sophisticated cheek bones.

    Here on Sapuhru scars are regarded as marks of honour. Females are mad about them and want scared males to be the fathers of their offspring. Instead of asking Ahearne how he earned his, I say, “So you want to return to Draconis by any means? Cunabula has put a death mark on your head.”

    “Ah, but we are not going to the Holy Isle. I miss Ceilonwyn a great, great deal, lass. That forest is the place that I call home.” Ahearne gives me a happy grin. “Senator Aletheia wants to achieve that the boys and I get pardoned by his wife.”

    “Why should he do that?” I growl.

    “Because he is a man of peace and honour as much as your step-brother.”

    “Bien sure!” I get up and throw one of my woollen blankets into his direction. “Of course. Vicomte Ankoù is such an angel.”

    “I heard my name being mentioned?”

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

    Vicomte Ankoù is not on his own. Twelve creatures of bizarre beauty are with him, filling my cave with scary quickness. They have blue skin and red eyes without any white in them. Their hair hangs like a coat around them and reaches the floor. It is glittering in a mysterious dark blue tone that is almost black.

    “How dare you! This is my serail!” I yell.

    He takes off his black leather gloves and kneels in front of O’Maoilrian. “How long has Ciall been in that state, Ruadhan? And why?”

    “Since dawn. He touched an artefact of the Holy Isle. It was one of their cursed holocrons. A pyramid. Some present of the late Lady Solitaire.”

    While he talks, the Rouge vaguely waves around with his hands. Only now do I realize that the surface of his palms is burned beyond recognition. The skin has burned down to the bare bones.

    “Where is the artefact?” Vicomte Ankoù’s voice hits me like a whip.

    “Master, don’t!” a strange female voice begs. It has the quality of a metal harp string. “Control your anger! It leads to the Dark Side.”

    “Dark side, light side, I do not care, Telenn! These are my powers and I use them as I please.”

    “Then you abuse the gift the Midi-chlorians granted you from birth on. Honour your father’s heritage!”

    “Diagarezit. Eskuzit ac’hanon,” Vicomte Ankoù whispers.

    “Netra. Mann ebet,” is the answer. “But now healing needs to be done. Let not frustration and other dark feelings reign you, master.”

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

    (To be continued!)
     
  14. Lady_Misty

    Lady_Misty Jedi Grand Master star 4

    Registered:
    Mar 21, 2007
    Sadly truth is in the eyes of the beholder but most of the time people only hear or know so much about events because there are people that see things to gain by twisting the truth one way or another. Seems to happen every time there's a vote coming up (one reason I want to ship ALL lying, slimy and disgusting politicians of every kind and everyone that wants to cause trouble one way trip to Alpha Centauri). At least for now Isa has someone else to give a narrative and she can sense that they are telling the truth about it.

    I do wonder what will happen to her now.
     
  15. earlybird-obi-wan

    earlybird-obi-wan Chosen One star 6

    Registered:
    Aug 21, 2006
    Lucien should listen to Isa
     
  16. WarmNyota_SweetAyesha

    WarmNyota_SweetAyesha Chosen One star 8

    Registered:
    Aug 31, 2004
    Lucien is very flippant & Agathos is not surprisingly compassionate.
     
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  17. Darth_Furio

    Darth_Furio Chosen One star 8

    Registered:
    Apr 17, 2008
    “Dark side, light side, I do not care, Telenn! These are my powers and I use them as I please.”

    We all think we can control our inner anger until we can't. Then, it's too late.
     
  18. AzureAngel2

    AzureAngel2 Chosen One star 6

    Registered:
    Jun 14, 2005
    Well, dear Misty, I found this last night:



    And politics is always dirty. :amidala:


    Lucien is somewhat daft to logic at times, dear bird. He actually inherited that from me. [face_blush]


    Yepp. Good observation, dear Nyota. Now that you mention Agathos, I have some new fanart for the six past chapters. I will post it tomorrow evening. O:)


    It is only human, I think. This is why the Jedi Order was invented. And Force mantras. ;)
     
  19. AzureAngel2

    AzureAngel2 Chosen One star 6

    Registered:
    Jun 14, 2005
    ********************************************************************

    Vicomte Ankoù is not on his own. Twelve creatures of bizarre beauty are with him, filling my cave with scary quickness. They have blue skin and red eyes without any white in them. Their extremely long hair frames them like a black coat.

    “How dare you! I roar agitated. This is my serail!”

    He takes off his black leather gloves and kneels in front of O’Maoilrian. “How long has Ciall been in that state, Ruadhan? And why?”

    “Since dawn. He touched an artefact of the Holy Isle. It was one of their cursed holocrons. A pyramid. Some present of the late Lady Solitaire.”

    While he talks, the Rouge vaguely waves around with his hands. Only now do I realize that the surface of his palms is burned beyond recognition. The skin has burned down to the bare bones.

    “Where is the artefact?” Vicomte Ankoù’s voice hits me like a whip.

    “Master, don’t!” a strange female voice begs. It has the quality of a metal harp string. “Control your anger! It leads to the Dark Side.”

    “Dark side, light side, I do not care, Telenn! These are my powers and I use them as I please.”

    “Then you abuse the gift the Midi-chlorians granted you from birth on. Honour your father’s heritage!”

    “Diagarezit. Eskuzit ac’hanon,” Vicomte Ankoù whispers.

    “Netra. Mann ebet,” is the answer. “But now healing needs to be done. Let not frustration and other dark feelings reign you, master.”

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

    The blue creatures are like pieces of broken glass that stick in my brain. I keep my eyes shut most of the time, even though it is not that helpful. For I still feel them, every single one of them.

    My eyes search for Vicomte Ankoù. In deep concentration he still leans over O’Maoilrian. To my utter annoyance he has taken off his war mask and kaftan. He is wearing nothing more than his breeches and his riding boots. I cannot believe that he is exposing his body in this manner to strangers. They are no kin to him and many females are present.

    “I can’t!” I hear him whisper almost heartbroken. “It is too heavy a task.”

    The one Vicomte Ankoù has addressed as Telenn earlier on, is standing behind him. Her spider like fingers are resting on his bare shoulders. Her mouth is not moving either. But I hear each of her words as clear as daylight.

    “But you already managed to separate his fingers from one another. Do not give up here, master! Move on!”

    “So much hatred, so much scorn...” Vicomte Ankoù whimpers on. “I never knew it was possible.”

    “And this is why Minou insists you learn to control your feelings, master. Compassion for others is the way. The only way there is for you.”

    This intense communication gives me a headache, but I cannot shut it out. I am forced to hear this lecture about the Force.

    “I’ll try again.” Vicomte Ankoù sounds very exhausted.

    “There is no trying.” Telenn persists. “Do it, master. This Elf here is also a being that exists in the Force, even though he is not aware of it at all. See, the Midi-chlorians carry the ancient stardust in them as well. All life in the universe has sprung from the same source. We are all brothers and sisters in the Force. Once there was harmony. A harmony we all long for again. You can heal this man here.”

    I smirk. Perhaps Vicomte Ankoù is not so powerful after all.

    As if to defy me, he raises his arms high above his head. A beautiful light springs out of his fingertips. It is not azure this time, but white and pure as the ice caps of the Polar region. I never have seen such beauty before. It makes me cry.
     
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  20. WarmNyota_SweetAyesha

    WarmNyota_SweetAyesha Chosen One star 8

    Registered:
    Aug 31, 2004
    Absolutely gorgeous words and descriptions of the healing process /attempts. =D= =D= Your words are like silver bells @};-
     
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  21. AzureAngel2

    AzureAngel2 Chosen One star 6

    Registered:
    Jun 14, 2005
    * feels like singing the German Christmas song "Kling-Glöckchen" now

    Thanks for all the praise! I actually needed that after a dreadful week & being so sick from the penicillin cure, which does not feel as a cure at all.
     
  22. earlybird-obi-wan

    earlybird-obi-wan Chosen One star 6

    Registered:
    Aug 21, 2006
    Lucien should listen to the wise words. The light is all.
     
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  23. AzureAngel2

    AzureAngel2 Chosen One star 6

    Registered:
    Jun 14, 2005
    As I said in my other fanfic thread right now, there is this Chinese proverb: "Be careful of your thoughts, for your thoughts become your words. Be careful of your words, for your words become your actions. Be careful of your actions, for your actions become your habits. Be careful of your habits, for your habits become your character. Be careful of your character, for your character becomes your destiny."

    It should be read out to Lucien at least a hundred times. [face_whistling]

    But then again, he would not listen. Like Kylo Ren he is fanatic about the goodness of his own course. This is also what triggered me initially to re-post my fan fics about Lucien again.
     
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  24. AzureAngel2

    AzureAngel2 Chosen One star 6

    Registered:
    Jun 14, 2005
    Because I am in a place where I cannot be on-line this weekend, I am updating right now:


    Dark adapted eyes, Chapter 7:

    When the healing is over, Vicomte Ankoù lies on the floor, unconscious and a peaceful smile dancing on his lips. The Force has a prize. Eventually I believe that every form of magic has.

    The blue creature looming over my step-brother gazes at me in a way that sucks me in. Her eyes are so ancient, so wise in a way that it hurt me.

    “Giving and taking, that is the true secret of the universe. Without the commerce between all the beings out there in the universe would be no life possible. So the light needs the dark. They are like the two sides of a coin. You, young Lidérc, are his darkness. Be blessed and cursed for that.”

    This creature has no right speaking to me that way.

    “You chose to lock this one out of your heart. To shun him for what he is. For what happened with your mother’s tribe so long ago.” the creature states strictly. Her voice is echoed in all the corners of my very soul. “For somebody so young you already have a very strong opinion. Ask yourself if you are not too hard on him. If you are not the one who has a very skewed view on matters.”

    My lips tremble, but I cannot give her any sharp answer.

    “The future is always in motion, hard to tell. I can only predict one clear outcome: one of you will die in the deadly conflict that is to come. You are a trouble maker, a desert storm that is very destructive. Your thoughts and beliefs will leave a strong imprint behind in others.”

    With this she turns around and attends the others. They have formed a circle around Vicomte Ankoù’s body. Green light rises amongst their midst, raining down on him like a star shower.

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

    I am still sulking when we are on our way to the city. None of the Asrai, the legendary water monsters, have tried to take my holocron away from me in so far. Not even Vicomte Ankoù who looks refreshed and well. He is chatting with Ruadhan as they ride along one another on their eopies.

    At the gateway to Montségur the Asrai depart from us. Bare feet they return to the dune sea. I am happy when they are out of sight. If the She-Moon and her virgin daughter are merciful, I never have to see their lot again.

    When we enter the labyrinth of streets that lead to the ducal homestead, the lustful moaning of a male Lidérc swings in the night air. I recognize the couleur and the melody at once.

    Vicomte Ankoù jumps down from Argent at once, his midnight blue robes swirling around him in an impressive way. I follow him, leaving a frustrated Crépuscule behind.

    “You, here. What an unexpected surprise, honoured cousin!” Vicomte Ankoù puts his arms in front of his chest. “If I had known that your income is too low for the services of Ostal Blanc then I would have asked papa for an increase on your behalf.”

    I roll my eyes.

    His next words sound less kind. They come out like cold wind. “If you do not draw back your spiked belongings at once, you can gather their splinters in the dune sea.”

    Zouave moves very slowly and fearfully.

    “May I help?” suggests Vicomte Ankoù with cool efficiency. “I have very skilled hands you know.”

    Zouave shakes his head weakly and steps aside an instant later.

    A female Elf slides down the wall, closing her legs. One of them is a wooden stump. Distressed she glares at as. Only now I am able to see her very young face. She is nothing more than a child, wearing a rose coloured dress that leaves her thin shoulders bare. Her body is as petite as the one of a fennek. Even her golden red curls have similarity with that of those shy desert foxes. Her slanted eyes are indigo blue, speaking of terror, homesickness and fear.

    I hate the tramp at once, because Vicomte Ankoù shows vast interest in her. Fascination and sympathy shine in his eyes. “You were on the way home, honoured cousin, I suspect?” he says loud and clear, stretching each syllable.

    “Oui,” comes the meek answer from Zouave, who lowered his kaftan. Yes.

    “Then tell papa that we are on the way to Ostal Blanc.

    I hope that the term ’we’ does not include the Elves and me. A visit at the Court of Healing is for unmarried males only. All the female healers, called bonas-femnas, stand in the service of the moon goddesses and her virgin daughter.

    Vicomte Ankoù makes an inviting gesture towards the child woman. “Cover yourself and come with me!”

    This is a ridiculous request. The tramp has nothing to cover herself with apart from her long hair that is flowing along her backside.

    “I would feel honoured if you would join me instead of the city guard,” Vicomte Ankoù continues.

    Even I get a fright from the seven masked shadows that show up behind us, their weapons drawn. Zouave squeezes past them and runs off as fast as his feet can take him. He leaves a cloud of fear behind.

    “Everything is fine, commander!” Vicomte Ankoù announces without turning around. “The young lady here fell victim to criminals that trample our holy laws with their dirty boots. Leave them to me.”

    Respectfully, the guards draw back.

    The tramp shakes as badly as her body when she pipes up. “I am not allowed to go away with strangers. Who are you?”

    Vicomte Ankoù bows in front of her as if she is a lady of a family of means. “Viscount Ankoù, at your service. And this is my honoured step-sister Marquise Isabeau Riwalan.”

    Did he just introduce me against my will? I should knock him out of his kaftan for it. By now I have reached a point where I am not afraid of his strange Force powers any longer.

    Enormously big, wide Elfin eyes fly from me and then back to Vicomte Ankoù. “I am Sionnach O’Conghaile.” Quickly, she ads, “A farmer’s daughter.”

    This is a story that I do not buy a single bit. Farmers never leave their land and certainly not their home planet. There is more about the tramp than she wants us to know at present. I pity her a bit. Not because of her wooden leg though. Vicomte Ankoù likes to crack secrets as much as people.

    “Well met, milady,” he muses.

    Her fingers are enclosed by his elegant hand. Against the black leather her skin looks as white as spilled bantha milk.

    “And now you should follow me if you want to bear your child alive.”

    If he had not mentioned it, I would not have noticed her delicate state at all. Her knee caps are so terribly thin, as is the rest of her. I have thought her swollen belly to be a sign of malnutrition.

    “When was the last time you ate something decent, milady?” Vicomte Ankoù asks, leading the tramp as gently as possible out of the gutter.

    A blanket, that has been attached to Argent’s saddle flies towards them, wrapping itself around the fragile Elfin body. He is clearly showing off to her. He repeats his question, while she is still staring at the blanket that now covers her.

    “Two nights ago,” she finally says. Like her Ronronner earlier on, her Basic contains a strong accent. From her mouth the words seem like a gentle stream of water, following a very distinguished melody. “Business was not running very successfully. I was not able to pay my fees to... my guardian.”

    Vicomte Ankoù leaves her last sentence uncommented and squeezes her hand somewhat more. The leather of his gloves crack slightly.

    I cannot believe we are picking up a dirty street cat like her. With Ahearne, O’Maoilrian and Avel we already have low lives among us. Is he a collector of some sort?

    Smirking, I stare at the tramp and Vicomte Ankoù. They amuse me more than they should repulse me. This is the stuff that fairy tales are made out of. A dark, yet handsome desert prince rescues a mere farmer’s daughter from another realm. She becomes his bride and they have many children ever after.

    A vision opens up to me, unbidden and colourful.

    Éibhear likes to be the centre of attention. Women want to give him a hug, mess around with his carrot coloured hair or have him sit on their laps. I am concerned that this will have a bad influence on his character, but Luçien roars out with laughter when I try to speak with him about that.

    “There is nothing wrong with being admired, Sionnach. Our son is a gorgeous lad.”

    Annoyed, I let go of the spectre of the future. This tramp will set something lose in Vicomte Ankoù that was not there before.

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

    (To be continued!)
     
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  25. WarmNyota_SweetAyesha

    WarmNyota_SweetAyesha Chosen One star 8

    Registered:
    Aug 31, 2004
    Superb! Isa's glimpses of things to come and things that happened before - whew! =D= The details are riveting!
     
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