Listen, children, here is a story.
Depur had his grand and fine domain stretching out across the desert. He looked upon the vastness of all he owned. And he smiled. But a thought came to him.
He had to have something that stretched around his domain, keeping the vastness of his holdings inside so that nothing that was his could get away. So that especially all his troublesome slaves could not get away.
Depur decided then, to get his slaves to build a wall that would stretch around his palaces, around his fields and factories and mines and transport docks and luxury grounds and slave hovels and around everything he owned. It would be a wall unlike any other. Great and tall and shining and solid and insurmountable. It would be the greatest wall that anyone had ever seen.
So Depur got his slaves all together and he declared to them,
"You my wretched slaves will build me a wall. A wall the likes of which no-one has ever seen before. And when it is finished, it will keep your rebellious selves in so that none of you can escape and it will keep all my fine properties protected."
The people cringed upon hearing this. For already it was very hard for them to escape. A wall would make it even harder. But Depur wanted them to build it, and what Depur wanted, they had to give him.
And so the enforcers hit their whips upon the ground to signal to the slaves that it was time to start working. And the slaves got up and started their work.
Work on the wall was absolutely miserable, as all their work always was. They had to work under the hot, blazing midday heat without water to drink or pour onto themselves, and they were cooked from the inside out. They had to lift heavy stones again and again and walk great distances with them until their sore muscles ached. They had to work faster, and faster, and faster, straining against their minds and bodies and pushing themselves past the brink.
And the work on the wall was very dangerous as well. They had to mine underground, in the sweltering ground, for rocks to make into bricks. And the mining tunnels would collapse upon them. They had to work on rickety wooden scaffolding, laying bricks high in the sky. And the scaffolding would fall, and the workers with it. Often bricks in the wall would fall if they had not been placed exactly right and they would crush the slaves working underneath.
The people grieved their loved ones and community members that they had lost and they worked all through all their aching. Aching in their bones. Aching in their flesh. Aching in their minds. Aching in their hearts. Aching in their souls.
And still the overseers made them work faster and faster and faster, giving them no breaks to rest and expecting the inhuman from them. And they had to meet these demands no matter what.
For as always, Depur made them work, and work, and work, and work. And if they didn't listen to him and do the work that he demanded, then Depur would kill them.
The people were beginning to lose hope. They knew that when the wall was finished their chances of escape would be greatly narrowed. And they did not know how they could pass the wall and go out into the desert away from Depur's domain. They began to think that maybe their children would never be free. Maybe Depur's power was becoming absolute.
And this losing of hope began to destroy them from the inside out. They began to have dust in their bodies, dust in their hearts, and dust in their souls. And the Mother saw this. And still she could not weep.
Ekkreth saw this and they did not know how to restore hope to the people. But they knew that they had to try. So they came in the form of a little red bird and they observed the people as they were resting for the night.
The people's faces were long and drawn and miserable. And their eyes were losing their spark of hope. But Ekkreth saw that one little girl was looking out towards the darkness as if looking for something. Ekkreth knew that they could bring her to lead all the other people to freedom. Freedom in their hearts, if not freedom in their bodies.
And so Ekkreth took the form of a bantha, the girl's favourite animal. And Ekkreth let out a growl. This caused the little girl to become startled and to follow Ekkreth into the night. Ekkreth led them to a spot where everything was dark, as dark as the darkness within a parent's womb. And, turning into a bird, Ekkreth flew away.
The girl looked around for the bantha she had been following. But she saw nothing. Nothing but a darkness that was deep and all-encompassing. That came over her like water. In the darkness she thought she heard a woman's voice.
Come, child, the voice told her, give voice to this silence. And give voice to the silence within your heart.
And so the child began to sing. A tiny, lilting melody, ringing out across the lands, the darkness of the night covering her like a cloak, like armour.
And she sang and she sang into the night.
She realized that she must be getting back to the slave quarters, so that she could sleep and be ready for work the next day. She didn't want to leave. But she had to. So, with a heavy heart, she made her way out of the darkness. But she vowed to return.
The next night she returned. But she was not alone. She brought two other children, one who was a boy and one who was both boy and girl, with her. And there in the darkness they stood. And there in the darkness they sang.
They sang of their rage and their grief and their anger and their work and their lives and their survival. They sang of the wishes they dared not make. They sang of the rage that boiled over inside them, hot like the white suns. And from these songs came a song almost forgotten. A song of hope.
The next day the slaves had to work long and hard, mining and transporting and making bricks and making cement and laying bricks and building scaffolding. They ripped and suffered all the long day. And they cringed under the lash of the overseers.
But at night, when it was finally time for them to rest, the three children went to all the slaves. And they told them of the songs that they sang to themselves and each other in the dark. And they asked all the people to come with them and to join in their singing.
The people were hesitant to go. What if they were caught by Depur? They did not want to risk it. But many of them followed the three children, out into the darkness in the hidden corner of the slave quarters.
There they breathed in the liquid darkness. They felt it pooling over their bones, over their soul. It is said that the night brings freedom. And this night began to flow through the shackles around their spirits, loosening them so that their spirits could breathe.
And breathe they did. They breathed where no Depuran could see them. Where they were all alone together with only each other.
The children started singing. Songs of hurt and ache and toil and grief and danger and fear and love. The songs of their bones. The songs of their blood. The other slaves began singing with them too, until they all became one low, murmuring chorus. Like a whispher of wind in the desert.
They started singing songs of their spirits. Songs of love and want and longing. Songs that became songs of hope. And when the songs became too much for their hearts to handle, they stopped. And they went back.
The next day they whispered to everyone about what had happened. The slave quarters were abuzz with news of the singing, of the unity, of the togetherness, of the secret freedom to be found.
And so that night the hearts of all the people were glowing with courage. They now had the ability to follow the other slaves into the dark place and take part in the secret singing.
And so they all sang together. The songs of their bones. The songs of their blood. The songs of their flesh. The songs of their hearts. The songs of their spirits. The songs of their souls. They sang into the night and it was like cool water being poured from the heavens to wash away the dust of their souls.
And there, under the dark of the night, they felt a tiny sliver of each of their souls blowing out from their mouths, and connecting with the souls of all the other slaves. All the pieces of all the souls of all the slaves came together and glowed softly in the night. It glowed brighter and brighter and brighter, until the slaves were afraid that Depur would see the great light that shone like a fire. It then started to come into a shape. The light formed the shape of a tiny white lizard with very small wings and a tiny crown of horns.
The lizard stopped glowing as it lowered onto the ground. And she opened her little eyes and let out a tiny squeak. She was a tiny, fragile, beautiful little thing. Curious of the world and with freedom in her soul. Freedom so strong and vast that it could barely be described. Could only be felt as it reverberated in the souls of everyone present.
All the people gazed at the little lizard. They knew they must protect her with their lives. And so they hid her in the slave quarters and when the day came they hid her in their clothes.
One slave who was working at the base of the wall set the lizard free when the enforcers were not looking. And they told the lizard to go, go, go out into the sands where Depur will never be able to find her.
The lizard looked back and squawked. She did not want to leave the people. They belonged together and they all belonged free together.
But the slave promised her that Ekkreth was all of them. Ekkreth was all the slaves and their rebellion and their spirit. And Ekkreth would find them and take care of them. And then they would be reunited with and taken care of by all the slaves.
And so the lizard went out into the desert and found a cave to hide in. There she started coughing, and for four days and four nights she waited until Ekkreth, who is all the slaves, found her again and took her in. But that is a story for another day.
And this is the story of the birth of the Mighty One, who walks the deserts unafraid. Who is one with the sand and the rock and the water. Who will bring Depur to his reckoning and who will bring us to our freedom.
This is also the story of why we sing songs on the nights of the Ikkelta Nittuan, the four nights when the light of all three moons does not shine through the gathering clouds in the sky, before the great sandstorm season begins.
Leia is mighty now but she once was a tiny little thing. Just as our hope can seem so small but like a seed it will grow into the tallest of trees within the desert. And Depur's walls, as mighty as they are, will one day crack apart and break in front of us.
I tell you this story to save your life.
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