Chapter I: The Night of the Feasts

In those distant times it was seldom that one would find such a flurry of activity on the Moon of Melodies. For all the dreams, assumptions and overweening expectations of those in the Core whose sole ambition was to travel to the desert world and pay their respects to the secret of the Kyber, daily life in the Holy City was a subdued affair. To many of its residents, it was solely about gathering sufficient resources to survive until tomorrow – and, in the harsh environment of the moon, resources were exceedingly scarce. There were no local industries to speak of, farming was virtually impossible due to the nature of the soil, and, most importantly, only two springs were available to supply water to the ever-growing population that lived atop the mesa. Males, females and younglings of all species, armed with all manners of containers, constantly crowded the two fountains to gather a few bucketfuls of the precious liquid so as to drink, cook and wash until the next morning, when they would again have to dedicate several hours to this indispensable ritual.

On the evening when this story begins, however, the Holy City was a hive of feverish excitement. It was not only that a long-awaited ship had arrived from the Core only two days earlier, bringing along much-needed supplies and a group of young colonists who would inject fresh blood into the town's population, but this night would witness one of the most eagerly anticipated celebrations of the year. For two hours, shortly before dusk, the large planet around which the moon traced its orbit would come in front of the sun, plunging the city into silvery darkness. As tradition dictated, the people of the mesa would then elect the ugliest among their ranks to the ephemeral position of Lord of the Budallenjsh, as a reminder that, in the twilight of the eclipse, all beings were equal regardless of appearance or species.

The coincidence of the two feasts – the Feast of Arrival and the Feast of the Budallenjsh – thus generated a frenetic buzz across the town, and nowhere was this buzz more keenly felt than in Initiation Square. A dense crowd thronged the empty expanse by the Gate of Laments, just inside the city walls. Merrymakers had already gathered to witness the election of the Lord that was due to take place on the balconies of Pilgrim's House as soon as the eclipse began; they chatted, laughed and offered each other what few sweets they had been able to set aside for this night of revelry. Meanwhile, meandering lines of workers wound their way across the congregation, carrying crates of supplies under the watchful eye of the Guardians of the Whills. The Moon of Melodies was not equipped with a hyperspace cannon so as to send ships and passengers back to the Core, and any craft that was propelled from Coruscant through the Terrabe Bypass was offloaded and then cannibalised for anything and everything that could be salvaged and reused to benefit the population. The recent arrival was already naught but a hollow carcass on the stretch of desert that served as a landing area outside the gate, and once the metal plates themselves were dismantled every scrap would be carefully apportioned among the residents so as to meet their most pressing needs. The fact that this particular ship had come arrayed with solar sails that could be repurposed to improve the public power supply and provide heating against the constant, bitter cold only added to the sense of elation that pervaded the city.

A young man going by the name of Sinunu was posted near the Well of Prosperity in a narrow street off the square. He was tall and lanky, with ginger hair, bright blue eyes and a face so freckled one would have been forgiven for believing that his skin had taken the colour of the sand, as happened to every being with any form of pigmentation after a few weeks of exposure to the moon's sun. Nevertheless, his attire alone was ample evidence that he had only just arrived with the latest newcomers. The bright fabric and the cut of his clothes were typical of the Coruscanti working class – and, incidentally, entirely unsuited to the frigid climate of the moon. Yet they stood in sharp contrast to the sophisticated tone in which he declaimed his poetry for passers-by to hear. This was obviously a bard who had trained himself to speak the language of the wealthy, and he might even have managed to fool a few innocent bystanders were it not for the cup that was placed at his feet, awaiting the alms of the audience.

The problem, however, was that so far Sinunu was failing to attract any audience at all. For all the time, effort and thought he had put into composing his poems, for all the rhymes, the alliterations, the hyberboles and the metaphors he had so carefully crafted, for all the complex messages of purity, righteousness and justice he had strived to convey in his works, not a single soul expressed any interest in listening to him. Except, that is, a group of street urchins led by an impish teenage girl with dishevelled auburn hair and olive skin. They had settled on the other side of the alley with the sole purpose of shouting, jeering, whistling, and more generally making as much noise as they could so as to interrupt his chant in every possible manner. He was about to address them and request politely that they be on their way when a particularly loud catcall caused the bundle of rags that was huddled against the fountain to stir. The elderly woman stretched and yawned, and her high-pitched voice pierced the hubbub of the street as she shook the myriad little bells attached to her clothing.

"May the uzh of others be with you!"

The street urchins burst out laughing. "Jindi Korkuu!" the leader of the teens whooped gleefully. "Did we wake you up, my fair lady? Should we remind you to bestow your blessings upon the good people of the Moon?"

The tiny bells tintinnabulated again as the woman called Jindi shrugged and swept her long braids behind her shoulders. It occurred to Sinunu that she was perhaps not that old after all. Her wrinkled, leathery face had misled him at first, but he could see, now that she had somehow straightened herself, the lipless mouth and the bony protrusions along her jaw that identified her as a Weequay. His previous dealings with a few of the humanoid aliens back on Coruscant had convinced him that they were barely capable of intelligent thought, and this particular female appeared to be so shabby, so destitute, so covered in filth that she was clearly a vagabond who scrounged a living from seeking charity on the streets of the city. An unlikely audience for his art, then. With a despondent sigh he turned away from her and opened his mouth to resume his chant.

"May the uzh of others be with you!" the Weequay wailed again, so shrilly that Sinunu thought his ears would bleed. "May the uzh of others be with you!" She produced a beggar's cup from under her rags and waved it at the bard.

"No luck, Jindi!" the auburn-haired girl shouted over the ruckus of hundreds of passers-by who were still heading towards Initiation Square. "You've got competition from this gentleman today. And what a gentleman he is! Freshly arrived from the Core, no less, and with ambitions to seduce us all with the harmony of his hymns. I'm told he wanted to join the psalmists of the Kyberkerk. There was just the usual... complication, if you get my meaning. So here he is now, stranded in the back end of space, all dressed up and nowhere to go."

The gang of teenagers roared with laughter and Sinunu felt his cheeks turn crimson under the tramp's appraising gaze. "I am afraid you are gravely mistaken, young mistress," he told the girl in a brave attempt at a dignified response. "My reasons for coming to the Moon of Melodies –"

The teen hopped off the windowsill where she had been perching and came to place her palm on his chest. "No need to explain yourself, friend. My brother is the High Priest of the Kyberkerk. I know everything about you, and then some more. You're not the first one who was fooled into coming to this moon, and you certainly won't be the last." At this Sinunu's blush darkened, if that were even possible. The girl turned to the Weequay. "Anyway, he's been regaling Prosperity Alley with his carols all afternoon. And with such poise! Such grace! Such elegance! You wouldn't believe the level of refinement that this single being has brought to our world, Jindi. I don't know where we found the nerve to exist without him until now, barbarians that we are." Her eyes sparkled with mischief and she added casually, "Your feeble blessings stand no chance as long he is standing by your side."

A malicious smile played on Jindi Korkuu's wrinkled face. "Well then, my dear Genade, I believe that I must ask you to remove him from my presence."


Endnotes

'Budallenjsh' is Albanian for 'fool'. The Feast of the Budallenjsh is a reference to the Feast of Fools in the opening chapter of Hunchback.

Sinunu is the GFFA version of Victor Hugo's character Gringoire, who acts as the narrator throughout a significant chunk of Hunchback. The name means 'swallow' (the bird) in Arabic, because the name Gringoire is said to mean originally 'he who brings the spring' and there's a saying about swallows and the spring (or lack thereof) in French.

Genade is the GFFA version of Jehan Frollo, who is male in the novel. The name means 'grace' in Afrikaans, from the Hebrew version of John, Yochanan, which means 'Yahweh is gracious'.

Jindi Korkuu is the GFFA version of Clopin Trouillefou, the King of Truands in the novel. The name means 'mad fear' in Kyrgyz, a literal translation of the portmanteau Trouillefou.

Kyberkerk is the (hopefully) ancient-sounding name I chose for the Temple of the Kyber in the era when this story takes place. I based it on the Dutch/Flemish word structure for naming churches (see for instance the French city of Dunkirk, whose name means 'the church of the dunes').

The Terrabe Bypass and the Weequay species are borrowed from SW canon.