Thread: Student of Dune (DarkAngel & Sync)

Unable to help herself, Helene did look back. Her blue-in-blue eyes searched for the manno he'd been Fremenwho'd escorted her this far to the ones who'd bring her to safety, to the desert her mother, her grandparents, her uncle loved so much. But he was gone. He was nothing but wind and shadow now, gone from her penetrating gaze and lost to her prescient dreams. May Shai-Hulud clear the path before you, she whispered, her eyes tearing as the danger of the situation bore deeper into her mind. Quickly, she turned back into the direction in which she'd been told to go. The pair of men seemed distraught, one moving away while the other lunged forward. She swallowed hard knowing that her life rested in this man's hands. She was at his mercy nowhis and the desert itself. She just hoped it proved to be kind for once. Oh, Uncle Leto! A flash of light brighter than the sun, the screaming voices echoing loudly as sand and rubble rained down from a scorching hot sky. Helene blinked rapidly, her face twisting as a muscle twitched in her jaw. Her eyes connected with those of the man heading toward her, his mouth moving only she could not hear him. The voices were too loud only no one was screaming. She glanced from side to side. There was no rubble, no fear...where was the crowd? She felt confused, her steps slowing as she tried to make sense of what had just happened. This had not been part of the dreams. Suddenly, Helene found herself shielded by this strange Fremen, his crysknife buried deeply within another's flesh. She turned to see ribbons of crimson bloom across the chest of the fallen, his body unmoving as it crumpled into a heap upon the hard packed sands. Her eyes moved to the face of the one who'd protected her, his eyes unmistakable. She'd seen them beforehis eyes, his face. A shiver ran along her spine, goose bumps forming on milky white flesh as she cast her glance away and his words filled her ears. He was hardly the first Fremen she'd seen, but he was the only one who'd been in her dreams, his face in the shadows as he beckoned her to him...and each time she'd always gone willingly despite the nervous fear he instilled. Helene wanted to speak, but there was no time. The Fremen turned his body in one swift motion, fluid grace like any desert creature. He truly was at one with the desert, his arms like the wind, his feet knowing how to move with the sand. And once again, he bested another assailant, causing him to fall upon his brother-in-arms. Helene stared at the dead and suddenly thought on the decoys, but her thoughts were interrupted as she was all but shoved away. With a small nod, Helene didn't protest. She knew this was what her mother wanted. What her uncle wanted. For now, she would obey. But this direction it was wrong. She slowed her steps, tried to veer a different way. She remembered this detail and it set her thoughts to running wild! The way the tiny dwellings aligned in such a manner, she'd seen this. And the streetsthey were quiet, too quiet! No, she whispered, though she knew the Fremen couldn't hear her. He just continued to tug her along, his agitation clear. More than anything, she wanted to yell, to shout! Anything to warn him that he was making a grave mistake! It didn't help that he was mocking her own inadequacies, her flaws. Helene was well aware of them, more than most, and had no issue admitting them. She'd envied her younger siblings who were to be taught the ways of the Fremen. The twins had been fortunate to learn so much more than the rest of them and she'd overheard Ghanima speaking to her uncle that her youngest would be raised with them in the sietches. But that did nothing for her now. This Fremen was wasting energy and water on such trivial things. Didn't he know how desperately she wanted to learn? As fury consumed Helene, she could feel the danger of her surroundings grow. They shouldn't be going the way they were. They needed to keep moving, change directions. Couldn't he sense the danger? Couldn't he... Just then, he stopped, halting them both and insisting for quiet and telling her that they couldn't linger long. Her blue eyes narrowed and she tugged on his arm. We cannot stay. We cannot remain at all, Helene pressed. Her muscles tensed as she made to keep moving, her hand reaching for the Fremen's as she quickly bolted down a narrow street. She longed to wait, but knew it was impossible. She'd dreamed this! The inevitability. It couldn't be stopped. Such was the curse of prescience. We go now, Helene insisted, fear lacing her voice. She gripped the Fremen's hand tightly and prayed he wouldn't let his agitation and annoyance stop her. Their lives were on the line now, ready to fall off the edge if they weren't careful enough to follow the signs shown to them. Please, she begged. How she wished none of them had gotten separated, that there weren't any decoys or plots. It was moments like these that she hated who she was and where she came from, that she hated that she was Atreides.