Futurefic of an AU of the NJO. Evolution of a religion.
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Raneri thinks the only good thing about Tatooine is the scent of the air after the rain. It's all the more precious because it comes so rarely. The air smells fresh and clean and pure – sharp, even. Her nose tingles and everything seems better. It's a nice change from mildew.
Today's one of the rare times it's not raining – the sky is a bright blue, and the suns are two giant discs of light in the sky. They warm the white sand and the blue oceans. It's as near to perfect as you can get on Tatooine. It'd be even better if the Tahiri wasn't dying
"Lady?" She looks at the speaker, a boy of ten, still young enough to be in awe of her. He doesn't understand that it's luck or chance that brought her the attention of the Tahiri, a simple fluke of something called 'genetics'.
"I'm not the lady yet, Kasin. She's not dead yet, after all," She regrets her words as soon as she says them; Kasin doesn't deserve her ire, her anger. He's just a child.
Looking anywhere but her, he tells her, "The Lady want to see you. Something about 'the last memory'."
She freezes with those words, and a feeling of dread congeals in her stomach. The Last Memory… Apprentices only get that at the succession ceremony, when the Tahiri retires to his or her hermitage or… She presses her lips together, feeling lightheaded. Or when the Tahiri is about to die.
And Raneri is running, running so hard that tears stream down her face from the wind. She only slows when she reaches the tents of their gathering. She stops and calms her breath, hoping her pale skin doesn't betray her exertion. When she's sure it won't, she walks into the largest tent briskly.
Tahiri's eyes focus on her, and she smiles faintly. "Forever are you running after something. One day, you'll drop dead of a heart attack while running." She laughs hoarsely. Raneri can't tell when the laughing turns to coughing. The Lady waves off any attempts to help her, and eventually the coughing ends.
"I have to give you the last memory. You'll be a master then, and there will be none to dispute it when I'm gone – no, don't shake your head at me, death comes to everyone in its time. Come here, where I can touch you, Neri…"
Raneri kneels by the Lady and feels her dry hands upon her shoulders. She looks up – and stifles a gasp.
She has seen the first Tahiri before, as a young woman with her hands scrubbing laundry at a well; a middle-aged woman laughing in the middle of an assisted childbirth; a elderly, though still healthy lady telling stories in the middle of a garden that looks like the ancestor of the forests that cover some parts of Tatooine. The Tahiri in this memory is different – a girl, really, with bright blonde hair and flashing green eyes. She stares at Raneri tiredly, and turns away to look through the tent flap. Raneri notices that the tent is much smaller than before, and instead of the suns shining out of the sky on the sea, clouds cover the sky over a vast, bone-dry desert. It smells musty and hot – very different from anything Raneri has ever known. She turns back to Raneri and finally speaks.
"You have to understand, I never wanted this to happen. But I'm sure the Shapers who turned me into what I am thought the irony amazing – after all, hadn't I complained enough about the bone-dry sands of Tatooine when I was with them? I guess this was her idea of a joke – rain on Tatooine…"
Suddenly, so fast that Raneri doesn't even see it, Tahiri reaches out and grabs her chin, forcing her to look directly into her bright green eyes.
"Most of the Sand People are dead – flash floods, no food, the change… it all combined to kill them. I lead the last, the survivors. They need someone to lead them, to tell them where food is, when the rain will fall. When I'm gone, you'll need to lead them in my place and find a successor in case of your death. Whatever happens, though, you must remember one thing: No one will help you besides yourself."
And then Tahiri smiles brightly.
"And don't get a swelled head, of course. That's pretty important too."
Raneri blinks, and when she opens her eyes again, she sees the Tahiri, smiling faintly. She breathes in, then out. She doesn't inhale again. Raneri stays very still by her body. A little while later, Kasin is sent in the tent.
"Lady? What do we do now?"
She pulls herself together and stands up, wiping her eyes. Kasin politely looks away.
"Send a messenger to the capitol telling them of the death and succession. Tell the ride leader that we must prepare to ride by tomorrow. And send someone to help me with the Blessed One's body."
He bows to her.
"Yes, Lady."
She walks out of the tent and stands by the opening, guarding the body. She stares at the white beach and the green sea and feels suns shine on her warmly.
The wind brings the scent of ozone to the new Tahiri.