Private Song of Souls - i - Star-Crossed Return

[Gaiatrie of Idridri]

The day was warm and sweet under the embrace of the titan Methicea, suns shining bright enough to require that the eyes were shaded by the palm. As she entered the marketplace from the west, all the rich scents of a nearby bakery met her nose. Likewise, her ears were made more aware of the sounds of bartering, children playing knucklebones on the dusty cobblestone, and animals of burden fussing.

“Idridri!”

She put down her hand, having come under the shadows of a stall’s cloth awning. She nodded to a man standing under another as she moved towards him. “Thalestris,” she greeted him by name. He was of this city, Phasekion; the epithet was of no real use here. “How do you do?”

He looked behind her, surely checking for a sack of produce in her hand or her mule wandering after her. When he found nothing, he focused back to her and opened his hands in a pitiful gesture. “Your harvest did not come?”

Patiently, she corrected, “It did not come here.” His brows raised. She continued, “My errois is ready to reap, but I am not ready to sell.”

“Why is that, my friend?”

She hesitated only a moment to pray on the name of Saytros that she may come across with decorum. “I desire a fitter price. It has come to my attention that each coil is worth at least fifty credits, plus the labor to dye, dry, and wind them.”

At first, Thalestris was silent. An animated call from the latest loser of knucklebones claimed Gaia’s attention. It reminded her to let out the breath that she had been holding. Finally, he said, “I cannot afford that.”

She did not immediately turn her head back to him. “And I will soon not be able to afford to run my farm.”

Castant had recommended she remain steadfast.

But the transition from the native Sargus Novian katas to the Galactic credit was still causing nearly everyone trouble, even though the process had begun two and a half years ago. For once, the government was not mired in discussion; it had made the appropriate policy into law of the land. The people, on the other hand, having received almost twice as many credits as they had owned katas desired to hold onto as much of what they saw as newly-acquired wealth as they could manage. The resulting low selling prices had not been so difficult to bear until recently, when the cost of living had begun to rise.

On her last trip to Thyreid to visit her parents, she had met a twi’lek man passing through their inn. He had kindly taken the time to teach her about the economy of the credit. From him, she learned the asking prices for crops similar to hers in other parts of the galaxy. She had come away from the interaction with a renewed sense of financial hope.

Thalestris watched on expectantly as a series of thoughts passed over her clear brown eyes. Finally, she sighed and added, “But I will sell them to you for forty, treatments included.” It was still more than she was currently being paid and he would still be able to make a reasonable profit too, for he sold the baskets made from the reed for enough to pay himself and his weavers well.

He took nearly as long to decide as she had, but then gave a single nod.

“Good man. I shall return in a fortnight.” With that business concluded, she began to retrace her steps but soon hesitated in front of the open bakery window.

Feeling eyes of a customer on her, a woman stretching out a round sheet of phyllo dough placed it down and straightened up. “May I get something for you?” she asked.

Gaia glanced from a meat pastry to her. “Yes. A slice of your lamb baklava, please. It looks especially good today.” As the woman wiped her hands on her apron, Gaia first took ten credits, the amount on the sign hanging above her head, from her money pouch. Second, she took a square of butterscotch ombré cloth from hanging over her rope belt. Both were exchanged for the baked good, which the woman wrapped in the cloth before returning. "Eucharisto."

The baker smiled. “Have a safe trip home, Gaia.” The only likely danger on the relatively short road back to Idridri were the suns or a loose stone. Chances were that she would be back in her reed field safely by very early evening but the well wish was made nonetheless.

She smiled back before turning and walking away. As she did, she unwrapped the end of the cloth. When she bit into the pastry, her gaze fell upon the painted porch that stretched the north side of the agora. It had been decorated with drapes of all colors of fine fabrics and fresh flowers. Life-sized figures Cymothoë and Pylaris finely chiseled into stone stood with their backs to the two centermost ionic columns.

A mysterious air of anticipation struck Gaia. The hairs on the back of her neck stood on end and she shifted her weight uncomfortably, but she was otherwise stuck in place by some invisible force. The Force. She was silently praying to be incorrect until the town crier, a middle-aged man named Matullus, climbed the steps of the porch and walked to the midmost section of it.

Well, she could not well leave now without hearing what he had to announce.

Anepithymitos of Idridri

 

[Anepithymitos of Idridri]

The air. It tasted better. Though only the hint of better. The city was still filled with too many smells that were not of his liking, smells that drowned out the odour of home. He was so close, and yet so far. The four years away had felt like a life time. He had departed from Idridri a starry-eyed lover of the Force. He returned to Sargus Novis a wary unbeliever.

“Pithy. You will be late.”

It was the voice of Corsae Ral, a fellow student, child of Chandrilla and now - thanks to the arrangement of government officials - his betrothed. She was a beautiful woman, the kind he would blush to think himself worthy of. He didn’t blush though, because it wasn’t real. She was not his love and he as not hers. She was honourable, kind and sweet. Above all, she was obedient to her leaders. That last trait Pithy found entirely unforgiveable. The lack of an independant spirit seemed nigh on repugnant at times.

“I shall not delay any longer than I deem necessary.”

It was his moment of rebellion. A little delay just to spite his masters, the ones that would pull his strings. Little did they realise, today he would cut them completely.

”Pithy…do not try them…not today, you know what Minister Vankar said…”

He could not help but sigh. His job here was to be a spokesperson for the Force. He had, after all, been sent on a government scholarship to study the Force, its history and its peoples. He and Corsae were already enrolled in the post-graduate programme. This tour to Sargus Novis was simply to remind the people of their investment and flaunt how one of theirs was marrying into a house of note in a great Core World. His was a role of pomp and circumstance. He was to speak of how great the Force was.

“Erannass, guide me.”

”Pithy! Don’t let them hear you talk like that,” Corsae seemed legitmately worried now. She grabbed at his arm and stood him up. Her hands busied at smoothing his clothes. “I know this is not what you imagined…it is not…as I wished…but we can make the most of it…you are a fine scholar…I too one of renown…we are both of reasonable countenance…perhaps one day you will even begin to…be fond of me…but please…for my sake…and yours…play the game.”

“I cannot but speak the things I have seen and heard, Corsae,” Pithy said, sorrow creeping across his face.

”It is not just your life at stake here, you bastard,” she hissed, her mask slipping for the first time. She composed herelf quickly. Her fear was evident. “Forgive…”

”You are right. I am being selfish.”

Corsae smiled sweetly. “We shall fly or fall together, dear Pithy. Remember that.”

”I shall.”

The curtains in the doorway moved aside. “My…aren’t we getting cozy…maybe the tabloids are correct after all.” It was their handler and chief menace, Kallik. “You two are on. They are announcing all your fancy accolades now. They want you to come out at the announcement of your impending wedding…and then Pithy…you shall speak for a time.”

Corsae pulled at his arm, and looped hers through his. Both composed themselves and walked out onto the balcony to a eruption of cheers. It was hard to make out, but Pithy was sure there was some boos among them, but the noise was so great it could have been a strange echo.

”…to be married…bringing Sargus Novis into greater alignment with the great worlds of the Core…and now…Anepithymitos himself.”

Pithy could not take his eyes off the masses as he stepped to the balustrade to speak. So many people. His people. People that deserved…the truth…

Gaiatrie of Idridri

 

[Gaiatrie of Idridri]

Gaia was not one of the hecklers.

For first, even though she had been a staunch opponent of the Force and all that those who wielded—or learned about—it stood for both consciously and not for some time, she recognized traditional Sargus Novian civility alongside pacifism.

For second, her target would have been half Pithy.

They had parted on terms that she would not have chosen had the choice in fact been hers. Four years had taught the young woman much about herself and the fields now in her name, one such revelations being that she was not at any sort of fault for what had transpired between them. Instead, the responsibility had been and continued to be his. Still, she could not bring herself to hate him for such a heartfelt, if misguided, expression of romantic love, even though it had and continued to hurt her deeply.

Though she was sure that they were no longer friends, a pang of historic loyalty kept her at the fringe of the agora. She lowered her lunch and looked to him, comfortable behind a small sea of fellow Children's eyes that both her familiar gaze and soft smile would be lost. She was equally convinced that she would not be converted to the Cult of Agathonice and Epistor today, but to whatever he was to say she would listen nonetheless.

If she did not hear to understand, perhaps she could pretend that he was recounting her a schoolhouse lesson on astrology or biology or some similar mundane topic of study as he used to. Yes, that would do.

Anepithymitos of Idridri

 

[Anepithymitos of Idridri]

His hand gripped the balustrade and his eyes washed over the sea of people gathered to see one of the scholars that was the hope of their world. The city had become more enamoured with the Force. He could see it in the garb and general presence of the people. They dressed like they were no longer Children. His heart broke just a little more.

He received a nudge from behind. With a quick shake of the head, Pithy regathered his senses and the memorised speech came back to mind.

“From Mithicea to Daphis, here me oh Chi…people of Sargus Novis! I am returned from afar to bring tidings of the greater universe and proclaim our betterment in the ways of the galaxy…and in the ways of the Force…”

The response at his prescribed pause was a mixture of polite clapping and cheering.

“…Chandrila was good to me…”

He offered the predetermined gesture towards Corsae which elicited the desired laughter and cheers from a small section of the crowd. The rest of the crowd seemed unimpressed, or even hostile. Pithy squirmed a little.

“…the Force…will be good…to us all…”

He struggled over the words. He could feel the stares burrowing into the back of his head. Corsae knew of his wavering allegiance to the Force, but she didn’t know how far his hold to the Archaic had become. The rest were presumably ignorant, unless Corsae had divulged his struggles. It would not surprise him if she had - self-preservation seemed to be her key aim.

”…having poured myself into the archives of Chandrila, the power of the Force is undeniable, the legends of the Jedi are to be believed almost in the entirety…”

Now the crowd stirred with whispers and people began discussing things among themselves, likely reminding each other of their favoured tall tale of the Jedi Order.

“…and…”

He could not do this. He could not lie.

”…and dear Children of Sargus…it is not to be desired…the history of those that worship the Force runs deep with the blood of innocents…do not long for it my fellow…”

There was a tug at his arm. The crowd below was silent for a time, but then a raucous response followed. Things were thrown towards him, all coming short of the balcony. Pithy noted a few corners of the open area where some shoving and pushing had begun to occur.

”…peace…PEACE dear Children of Sargus…lust not for the power of the Force…”

The tug on his arm disappeared, but was quickly followed by firm hands that pulled him back into the room behind he curtain.

”I told you he was breaking under the workload…he needs a holiday…please…he will be well after rest.” Pithy could hear the voice of Corsae pleading for his cause, but it was as much her won security for which she pled. At least it was confirmed, she did report on him. From now, he could keep his thoughts from his betrothed. Their arrangement was on of ever diminishing intimacy. Pithy rued now the day that he set foot on that blasted shuttle those years ago.

Gods guide me.

Gaiatrie of Idridri

 

[Gaiatrie of Idridri]

The dangers of the road back to Idridri were not as expected, as by the time that Gaia left the gates of Phasekion clouds had come to cover both of the suns and she walked alongside the set cobblestones to make way for the horses and carts periodically passing, bound for Phasekion. The first realized the day's dampened mood; the latter spoke of the people of Phasekion's hesitance to settle. Gaia had not lingered long to witness the agora descend into chaos unsuited for Children. Instead, she had spent an extra hour helping the baker and her family relocate across the city to a relative's house. She hoped that the few peacekeeping guards that Idridri could afford to send away would hasten this mob to pacification.

No, the real danger swirled in her mind as she thought over Pithy's words, both of rehearsed quality and not.

Lust not for the power of the Force, he had beseeched of them. The history of those that worship the Force runs deep with the blood of innocents...

Gaia looked down at her hands as she passed by the first of her farm's low, stone boundary walls. Were they stained with blood already? She had worshipped, even lusted for, the Force for but a few years of her life but was that enough?

Her thoughts were interrupted by a loud, feline trill.

She looked up and dropped her hands simultaneously. "Hail, Kolumbao!" she called out to the lynx-dog waiting inside the main threshold of her farmhouse. As typical for Sargus Novian houses, it had no door but an intricately-patterned fabric hung in the archway and reaching only mostly to the floor. "I return as I said I would!"

The animal lunged down the walkway to meet Gaia on her way up to him.

She stooped to grant him a series of strokes. "Where you good while I was away?"

---

Gaia had forgotten the guilt that Pithy's improvisation had stoked in her a few minutes into working in the errois shed. Ahead of harvest tomorrow, she had to finish preparing the dyes. She had almost completed, but water vapor was still rising thickly out of the venting hole in the ceiling over the cooking pit. Other pots had been set on the ground nearby to cool. Collectively, they made the small building smell very faintly of honey, generic fruit, and walnut. Once the alkanet was done boiling, she could get ready for bed like the twin suns readying themselves to set on the horizon.

Anepithymitos of Idridri

 

[Anepithymitos of Idridri]

“I wish for better tidings than this, young Pithy,” said the wizened old innkeeper, “but alas for there is no room.”

The words of the innkeeper still rung in his head as he trundled back to the old speeder that had been co-opted for the Idridri end of their journey. It was not the room bemoaning lack of space that echoed within, but the option he did provide.

”I hear Gaiatre has taken guests at the farm from time to time…to supplement when the harvest is not strong…”

A name he had not expected to hear, but found that odd seen he had returned to Idridri as organized by Corsae.

”You appear bothered. Shall we unload here at the inn?” Corsae had been less than impressed with Idridri. Pithy on the other hand saw in the real Sargus Novis, not the purtrified force riddled mess of the metropolis.

“There is none room to offer, but an alternative has been suggested. But I shall have to talk to the owner of the establishment myself…negotiate a fair rater.”

“I am so tired, Pithy. Do make it quick.”

---

The journey to the farm had brought to mind so many memories. All of them seemed sullied with the same shadow that had seem him block all memory of the place, and the persons associated. It was hard to do that when confronted with its continued existence. Much had to have changed for Gaiatre to still live on the farm, what dreams had been dashed for her to remain still in Idridri.

His hands passed over the grain that stood so proudly in the field. He had not known this farm to be so productive. His eyes lingered on the rows of stalks standing at attention as soldiers on parade rest. A subtle breeze wafted down the valley. Only Rhoda Novis lingered on the horizon, perfectly nestled between the bosom of the hills on the horizon. It lent to long shadows, and an air of inevitably. All must fade, even this moment of extreme beauty.

A sharp growl wrenched Pithy’s attention from the horizon and he spun about to see a guard hound on its charge. The young scholar’s hands came up in defence. “Kolumbao!” He called, and the angry charge became playful with the lynx-dog‘s tail wagging to the point that it’s hind legs bounced back and forth with it.

Pithy dipped below the height of the grain and took to scratching behind the beasts ears while unsuccessfully evading an over abundance of licking. “Greetings old friend…you are as protective as ever…good boy…”

The creature rolled on to its back and began wriggling about scratching its back against broken stalks of grain. Moments rolled into minutes as Pithy scratched, patted and play wrestled with his favoured pet of all Idridri. The wagging and occasional playful bark indicated that the young scholar had not lost his pleasing ways for Kolumbao either.

Gaiatrie of Idridri

 

[Gaiatrie of Idridri]

Meanwhile, Gaia carefully lifted the pot off the cinders and set it down by the others on the earthen ground near the door. There, they would cool the fastest, exposed to tailcoats of breeze blowing through the uncovered archway.

"Kolumbao!" she called out as she straightened and walked towards the exit. "Time for sleep, my sweet lo—" She had taken not more than three strides on the dirt path leading from the shed before rustling in the reeds caught her eye. She turned to look at it, about to say something more.

Anepithymitos of Idridri

 

[Anepithymitos of Idridri]

The voice of Gaiatrie startled the young man, and he popped his head up above the grain. His hair, dishevelled and tousled by the wind, mostly covered his face. Kolumbao was having nothing of Pithy’s sudden departure from play time, and jumped up on this chest, pushing the young Child to the ground.

”Nay! Kolumbao…your lady calls for you…depart you wretched beast…and take your slimy tongue with you,” he said in est, not even a note of anger in his tone. Kolumbao responded with a couple more warded off atempts at a lick before moving away towards Gaiatrie.

Now he stood tall and sure, his hand pulling his here this way and then that. He bowed slightly. “The lady of the land…I presume?” He said with a knowing smile. His heart was so full of levity from his reunion with his dear friend Kolumbao that he had all but forgotten the weight of his world that sat squarely on his broadening shoulders, and even his intended who sat impatiently in an old speeder on the other side of the farm.

”I bid you tidings. And request accomodation for me and one other.”

Pithy cleared his throat, the mention of the ‘other’ brought the weight of undesired responsibility bearing back down on him. His expression waned from one of childlike joy to that of a man burdened with contrary goals.

Gaiatrie of Idridri

 

[Gaiatrie of Idridri]

Gaia had not expected to be followed home. Even before Pithy mentioned his reason for coming—when he asked his knowing question—some lighter emotion drained slowly out of her features as well.

Maybe hope for a quick rest, maybe more.

"Ah, the other," she replied and nodded back just as knowingly as he had just spoken. "Of course. My parents' room would suffice, I imagine." A smile, ever so slightly broken as she remembered something. "They have taken to doing business in Thyreid for some time now."

Anepithymitos of Idridri

 

[Anepithymitos of Idridri]

Awkwardness washed over his face. “A second room too…for myself?” He said quickly. He and Corsae were not sharing rooms, they may indeed never do so. Corsae had been sheepish about such matters, and Pithy not fussed by investigating further.

“If I ask too much…please do say…I can sleep under the heavens and be content with viewing the galaxy from where it is best viewed…”

Gaiatrie of Idridri

 

[Gaiatrie of Idridri]

She did not judge, but also did not nod her understanding again. Instead, she said softly, evenly, but with some effort, “Nonsense. Nor does Stachys anymore use his quarters." She leaned down slightly to pet Kolumbao as he rubbed against her upper calf, empathizing for his mistress’ sudden pain. It had not gotten easier to talk about, even indirectly, her brother’s fate and she doubted that it ever would. “You have not asked too much, but ask not about that. Not now, Pithy…” the name was strange on her lips after having not uttered it as frequently as she once had, “...for it is the hour of settling. If you wish to do so here, bring forth your will-be bride.”

She was quick to change the topic of conversation, touching gently his arm if he had begun to move away to do her bidding. “What shall I make a Chandrilan for dinner?”

It was a serious question. Gaia had no idea what the far-off humans took in the evening for food. In fact, she knew not if his palate had grown to dislike the flavors of traditional Sargus Novian cuisine.

Part of her feared his response, for her mother had not taught her to prepare anything else. She herself had been prepared to subsist overnight on a koulouri she had left in the kitchen or two until she woke and made a more nutritious breakfast. However, she was fairly sure that she had enough in her kitchen besides bread to make lahanodolmades.

Anepithymitos of Idridri

 

[Anepithymitos of Idridri]

News from Idridri had been slight to say the least. He was unsure what news there would be of Stachys that should have possibly come his way. Whatever it was, Gaiatrie was grieved by it. Perhaps Stachys had reasserted his faith in the gods of the Children? That is certainly something that he could imagine the Gaiatrie that he had known would have mourned.

“As you wish…”

Pithy did wonder for a moment, how she was surviving while holding her beliefs and living in such a traditionalist part of Sargus Novis. Of course, it was that he would find abode within the one home in Idridri where he could not talk freely of his thoughts and concerns. He would have to lose himself in his thoughts…again.

”Ah…Corsae…yes,” he said, showing clear signs of having been distracted, “she wishes to experience the local cuisine.”

He looked back across the fields of grain. He could just make out the top of Corsae’s head. She was staring at him across the tops of the stalks.

”Speaking of Corsae. I should probably fetch her…”

He glanced back at Gaiatrie, remembering her razor sharp wit and cutting commentary on people she found not to her liking.

”…I beg you be gentle with her. She is not what she first may appear…more a victim than one would think.”

Gaiatrie of Idridri

 

[Gaiatrie of Idridri]

"I shall be the second coming of Pylaris," Gaia promised before letting her former friend away across the reeds.

---

There was in fact enough to make lahanodolmades plus the lemon-egg sauce that Jestrista was famous at community feasts for. The daughter broke open a cask of the wine made from the last grape harvest that Myrian reaped before he changed his profession. She filled her best amphora for the dining table.

After food, drink, and some polite conversation was had, Gaia took the couple on a very short tour of her house. She then insisted that they relax before letting sleep take them. Gaia, however, had dishes to do. If she had to, she would again insist, this time on bearing the responsibility alone. Once she was finished, she went to find her guests, happening upon Corsae first. "Ahh, madam," she began. "If I may ask, was my menu to your liking?"

The Chandrilan smiled, but a quality within it made Gaia's heart drop. "I am glad I tried it," she replied diplomatically, "though I find myself not quite prepared for such new tastes."

Gaia smiled back, disappointed but determined not to show signs of it. Part of xenia was the gracious acceptance of differences between one's guests and themselves. A host could only strive not to offend; even the Gods could not reasonably demand perfection. "I am sorry to hear that. Should you want to share with me a recipe from Chandrila, I shall strive to fix it."

"Of course."

"Do you know where is your betrothed? I would like to ask him if I may fetch him anything else before I retire."

"He is at the shed where he met you."

So, Gaia went, but not before taking a blanket woven with a rust-colored bird from the foot of her bed as she passed down the hall and out of the house. It had grown chilly out but he should not sit on the dirt in such fine clothing.

Anepithymitos of Idridri

 

[Anepithymitos of Idridri]

He had been sitting, but now he paced. On the far side of the small wood shed, the young man paced and muttered to himself. He was rehearsing.

”…and I say again…Children of Sargus…hear me now…there is no pleasure in pursuing the Force…”

He scratched his head, words of displeasure reviewing his statement.

”…and here I stand, oh Children of Sargus. Testament to…no..not testament…”

He let his back against the wall while he pondered quietly to himself for a time. A thesaurus seemed to be pouring from his lips.

”…to my precious Sargus Novis I return as spokesperson for the Force…but the will of the gods…no…they are not ready to hear that yet…”

Swooping his hand down, he plucked errant Errois stalks from the far side of the path and began to play with them.

”I should just say it. By the gods….just say it…there is no such thing as the Light side of the Force…it is all gradients of darkness…live peace…live as Children…I sound as the second coming of Anycrates…”

Gaiatrie of Idridri

 

[Gaiatrie of Idridri]

Gaia heard him before she saw him. She came upon him under cover of one of the shed's walls and stopped just short of rounding the corner, opting to listen rather than speak just yet.

By the end of his rehearsal, she did agree that he sounded like one who aspired after Anycrates, but she would keep that to herself. Instead, she found a more diplomatic spin and spoke: "Ready and needing are two different states of being, Pithy." She walked nearer to him and stood away from the wall, keeping the blanket draped over her arm. "Either way, if one was to cleave these islands apart, we would all surely drown."

She continued his allusion to the mythos, referring the deeds of Xanthippe as sponsored by the grace of Trophimus and Triompas. When the legendary princess had pulled apart the land, it had been one landmass. Nowadays, though the habitable islands were substantial in collective size, individually they might well topple over in the waves of the Kyllypser Supersea.

Her arms drew tight around her body as she looked out over her sea of reeds. "Most of the Gods have tolerated our presence since Suffering came to an end. How must Their grace be fraying even thinner now." She was musing aloud now, seemingly effected by his rehearsal.

Anepithymitos of Idridri

 

[Anepithymitos of Idridri]

Her voice startled him. His cheeks flushed red with embarrassment for a time his frantic loss of calm drove all conscious understanding of his words from his mind. But then her words pierced his worry. She was not going to chastise him for his newfound stance.

”You speak as one that is Archaic in their sentiment,” Pithy said, head tilting slightly to try and decipher the woman he already thought he knew.

A single painful memory flashed into his mind. A memory of that day. It caused him to cast his eyes down for just a moment, before he pushed beyond it as he had learned to do. She was an old friend. One that shared his beliefs. The relief to finally have someone with whom to talk and confide was palpable. It washed away any vestige of hurt from the era of his Youth.

“I have seem them, Gaiatrie,” he said, noticeably only referring to her by her full name and not anything as familiar as Gaia.

”I have seen Jedi. Their gifts are marvellous. Gifted by the gods no doubt,” he said, eyes and tone not showing the wonder that his words perhaps would have once held for him, “the Force is indeed strong. But it is also…dangerous.”

He was pacing again. Talking to her, or through her, perhaps at her? He barely stopped for a breath.

”I have read their books. Viewed their holos. They speak of light. But their history runs red with the blood of innocents. Sargus Novis will become victim to the whims and ways of the Force Users. Their rise as powerful Jedi…and their even greater rise as powerful Sith…ones that straddle the fence do so for purely selfish reasons…to dabble with the offerings of both light and dark while committing to neither and accomplishing nothing. We are Children. Sargus Novis has a rich history. Our gods watch over us. Our stores guide us. We live…in peace. The way forward is our heritage…but I fear the people are so enamoured with the Force that our precious Children will become just another homogenized peoples…another variety of humanity to add to the gene-pool…just another world for a fallen Jedi to conquer. Why do they crave it so? The magic of it enthralls them. The simple life of adherence to our religion has lost its savour…we must make this…”

He gestured towards the farm, the homestead and the barn, then finally up to the night sky.

”…my friend…we must make this the most desired thing on Sargus Novis. Honest toil. Devotion to our gods. Family. Dignity. Peace…and food such as you prepared tonight is one such example. It tasted of home, Gaiatrie. It tasted so clean and right…so good…ah! We relinquish our souls for a taste of the convenient dainties that can be found on ten thousand worlds and we loose what makes us who we are…”

Gaiatrie of Idridri

 

[Gaiatrie of Idridri]

She listened with all the patience of a hopeful friend, even once she realized that that hope was vain as Pithy refused to use her nickname. In respect for his wishes, she resolved neither to use his any longer.

"I do not need convincing," she replied once silence had befallen them for a moment. Her voice was calm and slow and resigned and every other quality that his was not. "I follow the Old Ways with all of myself now."

She was silent for another partial moment—just part—as she found a particular star in the sky. She could find it reflexively at any time in the year, granted the heavens were sufficiently clear. It had appeared on that fateful night.

"It only took the death of Stachys to let me see far we had wandered,” she continued heartily but quiet, lest she come to tears for two reasons at once. With the tension strung between the old friends, an expression of intense sadness from either party would complicate things further. “He was lost in a stampede in Lukio. An informal council was called, slowly gathering, to discuss what our planetary response to the Force ought be and he wished to go to represent Idridri. He was not… shall we say, of your current mind. Violence broke out as it seems to often do between Archaics and Cultists.” The latter claimed to be devotees of Agathonice, but many Archaics saw through that excuse. Sargus Novis did not yet need to be protected as no one had attacked it. No, it was rather clear that the Cultists were only modern heralds of war, as Androcles once was, and they had to be stopped.

Gaia rose her hand, expecting a certain response from Pithy. “Hold—do not speak ill of the dead; he knew no better, but now I do. My family has suffered profoundly the Cult’s hubris. Of it I have not taken part for three years. The only arguments I nowadays have are with my soil and seeds, and periodically with buyers at market.”

It seemed at first like she might begin pacing when she stepped a foot back, but she only rocked her weight back on it. "But not every Child should have to lose a brother or child to rediscover the Gods. Such would be an awful price for salvation." She waved one hand out, brushing over the flowered tips of the reeds. "I must believe that mercy has better planned for the masses, that my experience was an unusual extreme."

Anepithymitos of Idridri

 

[Anepithymitos of Idridri]

Even as she began to speak, Pithy found himself engaged with the next monologue that would have come from his lips. It was pouring out, and he was distracted. All until she spoke of her brother’s death. He stopped, mid-stride, and his eyes came to bare on her as she spoke. Should he reach out and comfort her? No. It was not proper, he was betrothed.

“Gaiatrie…”

She bid him keep silence, and he obliged. Though as she spoke, Pithy felt a pooling of tears in his eyes. Her experience was his great fear, a microcosm of his concerns. Hers was the story of their world.

”Know that my sorrow is deep for you and your family,” he said, muscles urging an embrace but better thinking holding him back.

“It will become a story so common as to earn itself a name…in time…all families of Sargus Novis will have a Stachys,” he said, voice quivering, “I am so very sorry, Gaiatrie…”

Her story should be told to all. If she would permit it.

Gaiatrie of Idridri

 

[Gaiatrie of Idridri]

He was sorry.

“More am I.” She said it with no malice for it was not a competition and any feeling he had for her was generous. “Mayhap you are right. We could collectively be beyond mercy…”

She pulled her crop caressing hand back to grab the folded blanket off her other arm and offered it to Pithy. “Remember that you cannot philosophize away the need for sleep.”

---

Gaia rose even earlier in the morning than she usually did to make breakfast dough. She dressed it with olive oil, sweet currant tomatoes, basil, and almost added halved olives before imagining that their metallic taste would not be happily received by Corsae. Gaia then took the bread to the outside terracotta oven and left it to bake inside as she went into the barn. “Good morning, girls,” she greeted her small flock of sheep before opening the door wide and stopping it with a large nearby stone, so they might come and go into their paddock as they wished. Kolumbao, whom had been trotting after her since they both rose, began flowing between the livestock as they wandered into the gentle morning sun.

Her next stop was to the shed to retrieve her scythe hanging on one of the inner walls.

Anepithymitos of Idridri

 

[Anepithymitos of Idridri]

Her early rising was only trumped by Pithy’s as he had beat the suns and the farmers into the fields. He had spent time praying, begging the intervention of any and all gods on his behalf. As the sun began to rise, he found himself nearing the sheds again with the songs of his childhood falling from his lips.

”Good morning…Gaiatrie…and fair day unto you,” he said, waving his hand to attract her attention. He hoped not to startle her.

”I bid thee to put me to a task suitable for the hands of a scholar…I wish to work my woes far from me…tire myself to the point of sleeping alongside the Pholos Creek…”

Gaiatrie of Idridri