Flashback to 46 BBY. Maul/Khamier is about 8 Standard Years old.
Zabraks, in particular the Iridonian subspecies, are known for their short childhoods, rapid pubescent growth, and early sexual maturity. The typical Iridonian Zabrak male reaches sexual maturity at the age of 10, a rite of passage marked by the full protrusion of his cranial horns. Iridonia, being a harsh and punishing world, forced its chief inhabitants to grow short, stout, and compact bodies, the better to retain and use scarce nutrients. Evolutionary and biological necessity shaped Zabraks to be small and to require low maintenance.
In this sense, Khamier had been different from the start. In comparison to his fellow age-mates, he was massive, with the height and width of a fully grown male when he was no older than eight harvest cycles. His crown of thorns, a point of vanity for any Zabrak, were hard as rocks and well developed.
He was also strong. He was the best wrestler in any of the villagers nearby, and every other youngling knew better than to pick a fight with him. And he had powers, dangerous powers, that all were wary of.
In another life, another setting, he might have become successful and powerful. But his family was poor, and no one knew who his father was. He was destined to a life forever in the village, picking at dirt and roots.
There was a focus to his life, though. Her name was N'ilaani.
Later in life Maul would forget almost everything about the village, and almost everything about her. But what remained of his memories were enough to evoke a well of emotions: bright orange skin that glowed like a napaii fruit glistening with dew, the moist, mobile mouth, gleaming purple eyes, the short but slender and graceful limbs, and the lovely facial tattoos she'd received during her rite of passage; thin, silvery arches that interlocked and glittered. Most of all, the elegant curve of her single horn.
But she was two harvest cycles older than him, not a youngling, and not poor. And she was betrothed, set to be bonded with an older male of another village.
None of this stunted Khamier's obsession with her, though.
When she went out in the mornings to gather e'iia nuts or wild fungus in the desert, he followed her with his eyes. When she sang in her hut he crept to the door and listened. He haunted her footsteps, but she never knew. It was hopeless, futilely hopeless, he knew. Until, that is, he discovered what he was capable of.
It started out with small things: levitating pebbles, moving strands of weeds with his mind. Soon, very soon though, he could be seen rolling huge boulders outside the village, without laying a hand on them. People whispered fearfully, all sorts of things, that he had been blessed by angels, that he was cursed by demons. That he was a demon.
But the pure and simple truth of it was that Khamier was powerful in the ways of the Force. He learned that his mind could be trained, and his skills stoked and fine-tuned. He made no secret of his ability to move things with his mind, but he also had a secret power that he didn't tell anyone. He had learned how to get his way, how to reach out and control the wills of others, to influence their thoughts and occupy their minds. It was exhilarating and Khamier knew, just knew, that he could do these things for a reason. A purpose.
The only people he had not tried this mind power on was the shaman, and N'ilaani. The elderly shaman had watched silently from the dark of his hut as he witnessed Khamier's growth and progression. He had said nothing. But Khamier knew instinctively that the shaman was perhaps even more aware of what was going on than he himself. And he knew that his tricks would not work on him.
N'ilaani. She represented his greatest vulnerability, his deepest insecurities. He had nightmares- baiting and trapping her thoughts, making her fall in love with him. And he'd wake up after seeing her cold purple eyes, that lovely mouth that said, I despise you for what you do and what you are. These nightmares kept him from trying.
But he never stopped watching.
Flashback to 42 BBY. Maul/Khamier is about 12 Standard Years old.
The day had finally come.
After all these years, Khamier had somehow lulled himself into a sense of security, that N'ilaani's suitor would never claim her. She was now the eldest unmarried female in the village, and this thought had occupied his mind constantly. Soon, he would begin his manhood trials. Soon, he would be eligible to challenge her betrothed's claim. Soon, he could finally have her.
He knew that if it came to a duel, he was likely to win. Unless the betrothed was enormously strong, Khamier would defeat him, because he had grown prodigiously these past four years, in both size and strength. He was the largest inhabitant of the village now. He constantly trained his mind, as well. Everyday, he would push a boulder larger than himself as far as he could manage, and then move it all the way back with just the Force. He was sure he could win a duel.
But the suitor did come, and that meant N'ilaani would soon be bonded.
Bonded. With a male other than himself.
Imagining it made Khamier groan aloud in anguish. He reviewed his choices. Giving up was not an option; anyone who is acquainted with a Zabrak knows that they are single-minded to the point of fanatic devotion, and once they have locked their minds on an idea, they will never let go. To him, there were only two choices, neither of which were particularly convenient.
The first choice was murder. The deed would be easy, but the consequences would be messy.
The second choice was rape.
No, he corrected himself mentally. Not rape. Seduction. Finally and at last, he was going to attempt to use his new abilities on her. In his mind, he replayed the scene over and over, each scenario different from the last.
He chose option number two. It was, after all, the ultimate summation of his constant obsession.
It happened the day before N'ilaani's week-long bonding ceremony. As custom dictated, she had retreated into her hut, to spend a full day in complete solitude before she was to be bonded. The whole village turned out for the occasion; they watched from the square as she did the traditional bridal dance into her hut. Then everyone left to get on with the day's duties, and Khamier was left alone with his last-minute contemplations.
There is a point in everyone's life when the course of their destiny changes forever. For Khamier, it was the moment right before he slipped into the cool darkness of N'ilaani's hut.