Introduction:
The mother wandered in a dark abyss along paths of light following a green owl.
The owl was wearing a red ribbon around his neck, Ekkreth's color. She remembered the stories her mother and the Grandmothers in the slave quarters had told her of Ekkreth. How he had a hundred thousand shapes with which he would trick Depur, but how his first shape was that of the red bird. How Ar'Amu spoke to him in this shape first, and because of this, it was his favorite shape. The owl wasn't red, but it wore his color, and so she followed. Since before she could walk, she had been told by the Grandmothers that if Ekkreth called for one to follow, you did so, for he is the slave that makes free.
She walked for what could have been days or mere minutes, passing hundreds of white circles. As she went along, she would turn her head and peer into the dark abyss, watching the light emanating from the circles. Each circle itself seemed to have a path of light branched off the main path she was on. Some of these paths went up, some went down. Yet, with each circle she passed, her sense of unease grew. And still, the owl flew on. Hooting encouragement over its shoulder. Urging her onward and back.
Till finally, the owl flew off towards one of the circles. It landed and waited for her to approach. She did so cautiously. What was so important about this white circle?
The mother moved closer until she stood in front of it. It flickered for a moment like a broken holoprojector. She gazed into its depths, and a face appeared. They seemed familiar, but she didn't know why.
A young woman, pale with red-blonde hair tangled and matted with blood behind her right ear, looked out at her. She was struck across the face, and a collar was forced around her neck. Then she was put on an auction block. The white of the circles seemed to swirl out from the edges and covered the image. When the swirl cleared again, it showed two images with a swirl of light splitting them.
In the one on the left, the woman was bought by a ship captain. And on his ship in a cage, there was a man with his own collar. He was dirty with dark curled hair. The man reached as far as he could through the bars of his cage. He stretched out his arm, unable to fully reach the woman, but managed to hand her a knife. He smiled. They both emanated warmth.
In the other, a long-haired man with a green sword charged the block and rescued the woman with red hair. Then the image flickered, and a different woman, one with hair the color of sand, sat on a throne in a city of glass and metal. She smiled down at the first woman, who was now older and more care worn. She was dressed in cream and brown with some strange metal cylinder attached to her belt. The two spoke and walked together through manicured gardens. The red-blonde woman was clean and free but cold.
The owl hooted, drawing the mother's attention. She shook herself and pulled back. She hadn't realized she was leaning in towards the circle and looked up. The owl inclined its head, first towards the left and then the right.
"You want me to choose?" startled, she took a step back from the circle. The owl hooted in confirmation. "What if I choose wrong?"
The owl took off from the circle and landed on her shoulder. She had expected some weight, but while she could see and feel the owl, there was no weight to him. He nuzzled her cheek and chuffed her hair with his beak. The mother's heart warmed, and she was filled with a sense of hope, peace, and urgency.
"Oh, I see now. You can't go through without my help." She gazed again at the split images and paused when she looked on the red-blonde woman's face. In one, she smiled in the way one would among other Amavikka. In the other, she smiled as one does to Depur's face. The difference was clear, and her decision was made.
She stepped forward and laid a hand on top of the image of the knife. "This one," she whispered. It felt right as if this would be the best path forward. Not the easiest path, but the best. This path felt like Lukka, The Storm, warm, chaotic, but just. The other felt like a Depur's kindness, all sharp edges and false sweetness, as they wrapped you in spider silk chains. "This one," she affirmed in a strong, clear voice. She pushed with all the feelings one of Ar'Amu's chosen were blessed with.
The owl hooted in delight and swept from her shoulder and through the white circle. A wave of light emanated from where the owl had gone. It swept away the shadows filling the abyss with light that grew until the mother had to close her eyes and turn away.
Shmi Skywalker opened her eyes and gazed at the stars. When she had gone into the desert to get some rest, the Gods had denied her. That night eight years ago, they had instead gifted her a child. They had called her the maker of rain. She laughed at the time, but nine months later, her Ani came a little sun in her hidden sight.
Now, the Gods were calling to her again. She didn't know what would happen this time, but it felt like the change of the winds before a sandstorm.
She thought over the dream again. If Ekkreth and Lukka were truly working as one, she knew in her bones there would be rain on Tatooine soon.