Disclaimer: I do not own anything Star Wars. The species Tricenta, Lila and a few others are mine, but every Star Wars character belongs to either George Lucas or Jude Watson.
Chapter 1/My Life
Hello. My name is Lila Tuvati. I am a Tricenta, a species that lives three-hundred years without looking any older once it reaches its twentieth year. I was not supposed to live to see twenty years. I was not supposed to see my first year. To tell the truth, I'm not supposed to be alive at all. I was a mistake, you see.
My mother did not want to get rid of me, but my father did. He did not want to have any children. When he found out my mother was pregnant with me and my twin brother, he ordered her to get rid of us. He had to force her down to the doctor. They drugged her in order to get us out. Unfortunately for them they missed me. The doctor only saw one baby, my brother. I came to full term. My mother saw it as a blessing, my father did not. Again he forced her to leave me out in the forest. Even though I was hardly a week old, I can still remember her screams as my father took me from the house.
I was found by an old widow who took me in. She reared me on goat's milk and took care of me until I was ten. That was when the soldiers came. They burst into the house, killing the old widow and snatching me from her hands. They set fire to the house and everything in it. I did not know who they were or why they were taking me. I found out later that they had taken girls from the entire village from ages nine to eighteen. There were about twenty-five of us.
We were taken to a rich king in a far away land. I didn't know the name of the land; all I knew was that it was on a different planet. We were slaves in this king's palace. We were given scanty costumes to wear and were taught provocative dances. It disgusted me but if you did not comply you were tortured. I realized it was a small price to pay for living. I wanted to live. I needed to live. I had to get back to my hometown and to my mother. The widow who took me in told me she still loved me. I wanted to see for myself.
At the king's palace we dancing girls were treated well enough. At least on the surface. We were given beautiful rooms and were treated with the best beauty products. But the way the men leered at me and shouted catcalls made me want to hide my head in shame. I was taken advantage of many times until I could hardly look a man in the eye. I came to hate them. They made me feel dirty and I hated them with a passion. But I told myself to endure it. I had to live. I felt my trust in men weaken and then fade completely. Even the male slaves I could not stand being around. The girls did not help either. They made fun of me, told me I was being silly and not appreciative of the honor I had of being a dancing girl instead of a regular slave. I became an outcast. An outsider. I slept by myself. I ate by myself. The only time I was not by myself was when I was dancing.
Tricentas are born with white hair that steadily grows darker as they get older. When they reach twenty, it's a silvery color. When they reach three-hundred, its pitch black. We Tricentas are known for our beauty and music. That was why most of the Tricentas taken from the village were made into dancing girls or singers. I did not attempt to sing. I knew I would choke as soon as I saw the king. At least while I'm dancing I can get lost in the music and not think about anything else.
One day the guards announced a new slave would join our ranks. I silently hoped it would be a girl. Someone I could talk to and help in the cruel world of a slave girl. My eyes traveled eagerly to the door where the captive was being led into the room. My hope dashed to the ground when I saw who it was. A boy. As the girls started giggling about how cute he was, and the boys punched each other and whispered about how they were going to break in the new boy, I turned away and silently walked away.