Chapter 6a-The Liberating Truth!

Chapter 6a

~Nearly five years before the start of Dune 1~

STILGAR

Stilgar had been there on the day when they had found a babe in the desert, and he had been but a Sand Master then, out on a mission when they had come upon a small ship buried in the sand.

It was through luck that, somehow, the ship's shields had been deactivated. Otherwise, the worms would have swallowed it whole alongside the babe in it. Though he would often wonder just how much of that was luck.

It was a little thing with a crown of silver atop his head, hankering there all alone yet quiet as if waiting for them. The babe was not from a Fremen. The features were too foreign, yet it was a child. And they were not cruel so quickly the babe had been taken away from the ship. Thankfully, the ship held some supplies, especially water, which was enough for them to carry the babe through the sweltering heat of the desert to their Sietch.

They would barely make it, yet in the end, the child would prove resilient enough and would survive till they would make it to the Sietch, where his fate would be decided. Many would call it to be abandoned, yet even more would advocate mercy, and the child would be handed to a willing family, who would nurse him.

He had watched him grow up, grow up faster than those around him. Stilgar would see beyond the child's body and into those eyes, those blue eyes that often appeared to see so much, hold so much that Stilgar felt as if he was the one. The One they had been waiting for.

The Mahdi. The Lisan-Al-Gaib.

The child would deny it, vehemently rubbishing the prophecy as he would find a home with them. Then, they would lose a young Fremen, a friend of the child's, to the Harkonens, and then he would change.

He would become more vocal and more active as he would rouse them to action. Many would listen to him, few would heed his words at first, yet his constant success in his raids and negotiations with smugglers would bring more to his cause.

More food, better technology, more water, and other small luxuries often thought out of their grasp would be obtained through his actions.

Many would share the sentiment that he was the one. Indeed, there would be whispers. Whispers of the Lisan-Al-Gaib.

Yet they would stop as a young Fremen would find himself bloodied for insinuating that, for calling him that, a prophet.

The young boy, Inzal, a name of his own picking, would hate being called a prophet, yet he would lead them as one regardless. He would deny fate, deny prophecy even as he walked its steps.

But tragedy would strike, and on an overly ambitious raid six of them would be captured, including an apprentice Sand Master. One who could reveal the secret of their Sietch to the Harkonens.

Inzal would be blamed for this, his aggressions against the Harkonens had enraged them and now the whole Sietch was under threat.

And then the boy had done the impossible, alone had gone, defying his orders, deep into Harkonen city to rescue their men. And rescue them he had, all six of them. He had learned all the details from Jamis on how he had wreaked havoc in the city all alone, dancing through the air through his contraption as he slew Harkonen men by the hundreds.

The signs were there.

He could be the one.

"Why did you do this, Stilgar?" his aide added from the side as they gathered in the Hall once more. The Great Council had been called, and now everyone gathered to listen to Inzal.

"He could challenge Atal. He could come after your own head and call 'Amtal'?" And he could, indeed.

Yet Stilgar would welcome it.

The boy had his respect.

"Let him speak," he said as the boy walked to the centre, his blue eyes still glistened as he stood in there with an impassive look on his face.

"I know some of you may expect me to offer a challenge to be the Nabi so that I may reclaim my seat in this Sietch. Some may even expect me to plead for forgiveness," he began as he looked around.

"Yet I plan to do neither of these things, for I plan to leave this Sietch by tomorrow," he announced, and Stilgar was surprised.

"I wish to leave to never return, for I know my purpose. Know what I want," he raised his fist in teh air.

"FREEDOM!" he shouted.

"And now the question: What do you want? I am not the Messiah, the Lisan-Al-Gaib; I am not, and neither do I wish to be. I am the tale woven by a witch, for I plan to achieve my goal, my destiny through my own sweat and tears, and I will not wait for this so-called Messiah to come."

And he could see others shift. Many cursed him as he called their Sayyadina a witch, disrespecting her.

"You see me and see in me the messiah. Yet I am not the one your prophecy speaks of. I do not promise you a green paradise or a great jihad. I do not even promise you victory. I promise you pain, agony, and struggle. I promise you war. I PROMISE YOU FREEDOM!"

He shouted, and many roared at his voice, many more than Stilgar had expected.

"I was not born on this planet. I am called Inzal, a name you believe of my own making," he began, his voice more somber now.

"Yet that is false, and it was a name given to me by my mother. A mother who would have killed me in her womb had she known I was in there," he screamed, and Stilgar frowned at those words.

"I was born to a Bene Gesserit mother, her name Anirul," he began as many gasped, including him, as the realization dawned on him. Anirul, there was only woman named as such, Anirul Corrino.

The wife of the Padishaah Emperor Shadaam IV.

"Impossible!" he gasped as the boy continued.

"Born through my own treachery. Born as an evil the order of my mother wished to eradicate, born against their little web of plans. And I lived through the machinations of the galaxy and my own unbreakable will!" he shouted as his eyes glow.

"I AM INZAL KAZAB CORRINO! THE FIRST BORN SON OF THE EMEPROR! AN ABOMINATION AND BANE OF THE BENE GESSERIT!" he announced as everyone, reeled back at that Voice.

"I AM NOT YOUR MAHDI! I AM NO PRICE! I AM A FREMEN, AND I SHALL CLAW AWAY OUR FREEDOM! NOT THROUGH PROPHECY BUT THROUGH BLOOD, SWEAT AND TEARS!"

And pandemonium broke out at those words as shouts erupted from everywhere.

"Freedom!" some shouted as they joined him in his voice.

"Heretic! Incel! LIARRR!" others shouted, and Stilgar himself was conflicted. The boy promised much, broke their traditions yet he cared for them. He cared enough to walk into a Harkonen city for them.

"Silence!" he shouted as he stood up and silenced everyone before he walked up to the boy.

"You have made your decision. You shall have the day to gather your belongings; after that, you are no longer welcome here," he said, and the boy nodded.

"I shall wait by the opening for those who may wish to join me, for those who would believe in their own self rather than a witch," the boy said. Then he moved away, walking out of the Hall. Many raised slogans in support of him, yet an equal number cursed him.

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