Survive the Dunes (A 'Dune' story)

chapter 1: Arrakis is my home.

My name is Zira Ashdu.

As I wander the halls of house Ashdu, my thoughts turn to the people of my land.

Their grief isn't as prominent as mine.

My mother is very sick, and her time is limited.

I pushed open the heavy doors to my mother's bedroom.

I saw her, lying in her bed.

Her face was pale, her eyes were shut.

As I took slow steps towards her bed, my breathing turned shaky.

"My dear child." I heard a groggy voice coming from the bed.

My mother's eyes slowly started to open.

She sensed my presence.

"Come. Sit. By me." She gestured to a lonely chair next to her bed with her scrawny, trembling arm.

As I softly sat down on the chair, it creaking with age beneath my weight, I examined my mother's sickly features.

"Mother. I need your advice." I softly spoke.

"Anything, my child." She replied.

"Do you know how to handle my repetitive dream?" I asked, breaking eye contact with my mother.

"Repetitive. That word. What's the dream about?" My mother's voice made me feel safe. Even if death does ravage her vocal chords.

"I keep seeing this... Boy."

He was a very handsome boy.

I keep seeing him in the same spot.

On the dunes.

He looks over his shoulder at me, his bright blue eyes glistening in the morning sunlight.

His lips curve up into a smile, his black, curly locks of hair being carried on a gentle breeze.

"I feel like he's... Connected to me... Somehow." I continue to explain.

"My child," my mother lifted her hand up to my face, and caressed my cheek. "That dream will end eventually, but for now, you need to face this boy. Try approaching him. Just try for me, my dear."

My mother never made sense, but somehow she always did make sense to me.

I sat with my father at the table, eating dinner.

"Would you like some water?" My father broke a comforting silence.

I nodded politely.

"Try it." My father give me a cold stare.

I knew exactly what he means.

I try channeling the voice in my head.

I look back at my father with the same cold stare.

He leans forward slightly.

As the voice starts hurling itself up my throat, I let it out.

"Give me the water." I ask, my voice deep and demanding.

He couldn't disobey, I used the voice.

He slowly slid a cup of water across the table to me.

"You've improved since the last time. Your pitch is much better." My father turned his attention to his half-eaten food.

"Father."

"Yes?"

"Would you ever turn to the Fremen for help with making mother better?" I asked out of curiosity.

"I would never trust them."

My heart dropped slightly.

"They have poor remedies, and they're a waste of time and patience." My father slightly raised his voice.

He despised the Fremen. He always told me that they were responsible for making my mother sick in the first place by planting poison into our crop system.

I've never met someone from the Fremen. And I don't plan to. But what must be, must be.

As I lay in my bed, my thoughts turned to the Fremen.

Were they really that bad?

"No, we're not." I heard a voice as my eyes shut.

I opened my eyes only to see desert as far as the eye can see.

"The Fremen are only bad when they have to be." The voice came again.

I turned to where it was coming from.

I saw a dark grey cloak swirling and twirling in the wind like midnight fire.

The same black, curly locks, and the same bright blue eyes.

And the same smile.

"I recognize you." I whisper under my breath.

"Only in your dreams, Zira." The boy replied.

"I feel like I know you better, young boy." I squinted my eyes as the sun peeked over the horizon.

"Maybe you will know me better. Over time." The boy disappeared.

"The urge to know your name increases." I say before snapping to reality.

As I shot up in my bed, wondering what happened, the boy reappeared in my head.

"My name is... P ...." He tried to say something, but the muffled sounds only grew more muffled.

"I will see you again, boy.....

.... I know it."