DUNE-A False Haderach (OC X Shishakli) (OC x Alia)

Part 2

Chapter 2a

~So, for some time, I am gonna move the story in two viewpoints. The 'a' parts will cover our MC's story about a decade after his landing in Arrakis. While the 'b' parts will cover the story from about 2 decades after his landing, from the start of the First movie~

^A decade after the birth of MC.^10 years before start of Dune movie^

~SHISHAKLI POV~

There were few things vital to the functioning of the world: food, water, air.

And Spice.

The fourth ingredient had many names: spice, melange, and elixir. However, it mattered little what one may call it. This little brown spice was the centre of the universe, allowing for the guild navigator to carve paths through the far-reaching galaxy.

It was expensive. One fistful of this magical powder was enough to buy a home on a mediocre planet.

Yet this magical powder was only found on one planet. Arrakis is a desert wasteland ruled by the Harkonens through a contract. Much like art, people cared little about how this magical drug was harvested, of which atrocities were dolled onto the inhabitants of this desert wasteland where water was more precious than the brown gold scattered through the dunes of Arrakis.

Yet the land did not have only spice. Even in the harsh environment, humans had managed to carve for themselves a life, living in deep crevices carved into the wasteland they lived.

No.

They survived, barely, on minimum sustenance as their planet's treasure fuelled the Empire's economy, preserving even their body's moisture. Their sitches, housed them as they lay scattered across the land obscured from the Imperial eye through exuberant bribes to the guild to not put up satellites.

It was their sense of defiance against insuperable odds as the Empire wrang them dry of all it could by robbing them of their spice and dolling them unimaginable cruelty through the vengeful rule of the Harkonens.

In one of these very sitches, a young girl sat as the water of one their own was added to the giant pond of life, the water in it sacred that they were not to drink it even when facing death.

This was her first seeing the water of one of their own drained, and she knew him. He was young, barely older than her, Ibad had just passed the test of Aqal, and had accompanied their leader on a campaign outside their sietch.

She had been happy to have him by her side, the three of them finally together until they had come under Harkonen fire. Those bastards had surrounded them as they were making their way towards Sietch Turak, and while those bastards would not be a threat to us normally, Ibad was young and inexperienced; the Harkonens had been able to spot him through their camouflage.

It was their first loss of life in quite some years, and the whole sietch mourned the loss of someone so young, yet none cried for water was too precious, even than their dead comrades.

Her eyes scanned the crowd as the older woman began to pray for the departed. As his friends hiccuped beside her, she found one face missing from their group, with his iconic hair, his absence was far too easy to spot.

She pushed herself up, even as her mother gave her a small glare as she left the prayer, having no patience for it as she sifted through the sietch with ease, ease that had come after years of living in the ravine.

She reached the mouth of the sietch as the night stretched over them and the cold winds had begun to blow, and found him there sitting there wrapped in his stillsuit looking into the darkening skies, his eyes blue much like everyone else.