The deserts of Arrakis.
Hot, bone-dry, and barren.
These lands were forged by the hands of God, making them sacred and strangely breathtaking.
Only two known tribes inhabit these dunes of golden sand.
The Fremen. And my tribe, the Oromens.
My father always used to say when I was younger, that the Fremen had eyes like ours. But their eyes were an oceanic blue, and ours were a galactic purple.
My name is Zira Ashdu. The daughter of the Oromen leader, Raywan Ashdu.
My tribe's land is on the boundaries of Arrakis, overlooking our only system of crops.
Does my story wish to begin?
I carried him across the desert, taking rhythmic steps to make sure not to awake the dreaded sandworms, rummaging beneath the sands.
As I hold his arm around me, my other arm around his waist, holding him steady, I squint my eyes, hoping to catch a glimpse of what was ahead of us through a light sand storm.
His bleeding forehead, bloody nose, and large gash on his cheek stained the sands beneath us both, leaving a trail of red behind us.
The skies soon darkened, and I felt myself being pulled to the ground with the weight of him and the weight of my fatigue.
I slowly lay him down, and I lay next to him as his eyes fully shut, allowing him to rest.
I stared at his blooded-up face as tears poured out of my galactic purple eyes.
I feel like I should say one last thing to him...
"May our hearts chip and shatter."
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Survive the Dunes (A 'Dune' story)
Science FictionZira Ashdu belongs to the Oromens on the boundaries of planet Arrakis. But when the dark cloud of Sheyid, created by the evil Baron Vladimir Harkonnen, sweeps over her lands, taking the souls of her people, she turns to her neighboring tribe, the Fr...
