The world of Arthézia was peaceful, neutral in many ways thanks to the works of those who came before. Over time, during the many wars, plagues and end all events that threatened the very fabric of space - the world was forgotten. It could have been the collapse of the Galactic Empire 850 years prior, or the Gulag Plague that followed them a few hundred years later. The world developed from the ruins and ashes of the old. An enclave of people known as the Ashani chose the temperate world as their new home in approximately 454 ABY. The Ashani people were limited in numbers, due to the desecration of their homeworld by the Galactic powers that be. They were similar to the Sephi in appearance but had a variety of skin, hair and eye colors - much like Humans. As the years turned into decades, and decades into centuries - the Ashani prospered. Forming a monarchy around the relatives of the First - the group of Ashani who first settled on the planet. They would begin trading a commodity which grew on Arthézia - the seeds of the Arthézia Lily, a component in both medicinal and recreational spice, like Polstine. As time grew on, their exports would encompass technology and droid components. Never too much to draw the wrong kind of attention, selling through dummy corporations and buying up supplies with another. With the exports of spice and technology flowing credits in from all other - it was only a matter of time before someone became curious.
A formation of starships burst forth from hyperspace, an assortment of Pirate vessels, escorting a Pyke Syndicate vessel. They approached the small gem world of Arthézia, ignoring the calls from the Arthézia authorities to cease their approach and identify themselves.
<Arthézia Transit Authority to unidentified vessel, please transmit identification and purpose!> The frantic voice of the tower authority and his pleas for identification fell upon deaf ears as the Pyke Commander Lom Krim simply gestured and chaos ensued. Smaller transports departed the larger vessels, heading for the surface below.
<Callista, you need to prepare for the ceremony…> Her mother, Amather spoke softly as she continued to collect data disks and hand them off to one of her many aides. The tall white haired Ashani turned back to look at her raven haired daughter, standing before her with her hands clasped together.
Callista nodded softly. <Yes mother.> She paused, ruby eyes gazing upwards at her mother and her Threads of the Chosen. Woven into the silken tan flesh, were etched lines and intricate circles. Each represented milestones in the life of the Ashani, and depending on the Scriptures of Fate - one would be assigned a shape, with none being like another. Her mother’s shape was the Circle, very simple yet powerful. According to the scriptures, a child would be born with eyes like the Blood Moon of Arthézia and hair as dark as the twilight above. She would possess the power of the Wills, and would be the future Queen of the Ashani people.
That child was born, to a mother with no bounds and a father of the crescent moon and her name was Callista, and today was her 18th birthday. The ceremony her mother referred to was the Weaving. A time where the Ashani Princess would undergo an extensive and painful process, one that would embed into her flesh, the very threads of her life. A story that was pre-determined by the Wills. The ceremony would take hours to complete and required extensive care during and after to ensure the Ashani Princess recovered from the process. It required her to delve deep into the Wills, and elevate herself beyond the mortal flesh.
Callista turned to face her trio of handmaidens, bowing softly to them as they brought forth the iridescent ink which was to be infused into her skin. The ink appeared to be translucent for the most part, save for the shimmering iridescent cascade as it hit the light. She stared intently for a moment before turning to her mother, gesturing towards her Threads. <Mother, your Threads are purple, why?>
Lady Amather smiled softly and approached her daughter, taking her by the shoulder and walking with her towards the Chamber of the Chosen, a tranquil place where the ceremony would take place and where Callista would dive deep into the Wills, and her body would be etched in accordance with the Scriptures and her symbol would take form at the base of her neck. <It represents Air, in essence and the hue of purple was chosen based off the Scriptures guidance and the way of the Wills.> Lady Amather nodded as they passed various Maidens dressed in long white robes, concealing their every feature. <Just as yours will be.> She turned to her daughter as they approached the entrance to the Chamber. She brought Callista closer, embracing her as she continued to speak. <To be honest, I like to say the purple is because we’re royalty, but it’s a silly childish notion.> She chuckled softly, pulling away from Callista.
Callista laughed as she pulled away from her mother, holding her hand just a bit longer as she began to step away and into the Chamber, enjoying that brief moment of lightheartedness. In the pit of her stomach, she felt she needed to tell her mother she loved her, but she didn’t. Instead, she turned away and proceeded into the Chamber. As she entered, the doors behind her would close and ten handmaidens would approach, preparing her for the ceremony. She was led forth into a white chamber, disrobed and placed in a pool of Bacta and given a Arthézia Lily pod to digest. Within a matter of moments, she was in twilight and sedated enough to allow the Ceremony to begin and Callista with a headstart into the deep pools of the Wills. The handmaidens would surround her, with one preparing the iridescent ink for infusion and the others placing the ceremonial blades into their positions in order to carve the Threads of the Chosen into her. Upon placement, they sat and began to chant softly. Their hands would rise from their sides, connecting around the pool in one circle. Their chants would increase in intensity, and the blades would rise up from their resting place - and the ceremony would begin as the first blade pierced her flesh.
Callista woke up, sighing softly as the golden chains around her neck were tugged on by various potential buyers. She grunted as she was pulled one way and inspected by a Weequay and was yanked another direction to be looked at by a droid which represented the Hutts. She lay upon a slate of tarnished white stone, stained red in various places with the blood of her people. Adorned in an altered form of her ceremonial robes, white and more revealing of her unfinished Threads, which had blackened. A sign in Aurekbesh read "Ashani, Princess, Royal blood is premium upcharge. Health and state of specimen has been verified by various Doctors and med-droids." Callista sighed, attempting to lay her head down once more, placing her hastily braided hair between her arm and face - hoping to provide some cushion. She was just one of many sentient forms being sold amongst the newly erected Auction in the middle of what was once her home.
9 MONTHS PRIOR
A formation of starships burst forth from hyperspace, an assortment of Pirate vessels, escorting a Pyke Syndicate vessel. They approached the small gem world of Arthézia, ignoring the calls from the Arthézia authorities to cease their approach and identify themselves.
<Arthézia Transit Authority to unidentified vessel, please transmit identification and purpose!> The frantic voice of the tower authority and his pleas for identification fell upon deaf ears as the Pyke Commander Lom Krim simply gestured and chaos ensued. Smaller transports departed the larger vessels, heading for the surface below.
<Callista, you need to prepare for the ceremony…> Her mother, Amather spoke softly as she continued to collect data disks and hand them off to one of her many aides. The tall white haired Ashani turned back to look at her raven haired daughter, standing before her with her hands clasped together.
Callista nodded softly. <Yes mother.> She paused, ruby eyes gazing upwards at her mother and her Threads of the Chosen. Woven into the silken tan flesh, were etched lines and intricate circles. Each represented milestones in the life of the Ashani, and depending on the Scriptures of Fate - one would be assigned a shape, with none being like another. Her mother’s shape was the Circle, very simple yet powerful. According to the scriptures, a child would be born with eyes like the Blood Moon of Arthézia and hair as dark as the twilight above. She would possess the power of the Wills, and would be the future Queen of the Ashani people.
That child was born, to a mother with no bounds and a father of the crescent moon and her name was Callista, and today was her 18th birthday. The ceremony her mother referred to was the Weaving. A time where the Ashani Princess would undergo an extensive and painful process, one that would embed into her flesh, the very threads of her life. A story that was pre-determined by the Wills. The ceremony would take hours to complete and required extensive care during and after to ensure the Ashani Princess recovered from the process. It required her to delve deep into the Wills, and elevate herself beyond the mortal flesh.
Callista turned to face her trio of handmaidens, bowing softly to them as they brought forth the iridescent ink which was to be infused into her skin. The ink appeared to be translucent for the most part, save for the shimmering iridescent cascade as it hit the light. She stared intently for a moment before turning to her mother, gesturing towards her Threads. <Mother, your Threads are purple, why?>
Lady Amather smiled softly and approached her daughter, taking her by the shoulder and walking with her towards the Chamber of the Chosen, a tranquil place where the ceremony would take place and where Callista would dive deep into the Wills, and her body would be etched in accordance with the Scriptures and her symbol would take form at the base of her neck. <It represents Air, in essence and the hue of purple was chosen based off the Scriptures guidance and the way of the Wills.> Lady Amather nodded as they passed various Maidens dressed in long white robes, concealing their every feature. <Just as yours will be.> She turned to her daughter as they approached the entrance to the Chamber. She brought Callista closer, embracing her as she continued to speak. <To be honest, I like to say the purple is because we’re royalty, but it’s a silly childish notion.> She chuckled softly, pulling away from Callista.
Callista laughed as she pulled away from her mother, holding her hand just a bit longer as she began to step away and into the Chamber, enjoying that brief moment of lightheartedness. In the pit of her stomach, she felt she needed to tell her mother she loved her, but she didn’t. Instead, she turned away and proceeded into the Chamber. As she entered, the doors behind her would close and ten handmaidens would approach, preparing her for the ceremony. She was led forth into a white chamber, disrobed and placed in a pool of Bacta and given a Arthézia Lily pod to digest. Within a matter of moments, she was in twilight and sedated enough to allow the Ceremony to begin and Callista with a headstart into the deep pools of the Wills. The handmaidens would surround her, with one preparing the iridescent ink for infusion and the others placing the ceremonial blades into their positions in order to carve the Threads of the Chosen into her. Upon placement, they sat and began to chant softly. Their hands would rise from their sides, connecting around the pool in one circle. Their chants would increase in intensity, and the blades would rise up from their resting place - and the ceremony would begin as the first blade pierced her flesh.
PRESENT DAY
Callista woke up, sighing softly as the golden chains around her neck were tugged on by various potential buyers. She grunted as she was pulled one way and inspected by a Weequay and was yanked another direction to be looked at by a droid which represented the Hutts. She lay upon a slate of tarnished white stone, stained red in various places with the blood of her people. Adorned in an altered form of her ceremonial robes, white and more revealing of her unfinished Threads, which had blackened. A sign in Aurekbesh read "Ashani, Princess, Royal blood is premium upcharge. Health and state of specimen has been verified by various Doctors and med-droids." Callista sighed, attempting to lay her head down once more, placing her hastily braided hair between her arm and face - hoping to provide some cushion. She was just one of many sentient forms being sold amongst the newly erected Auction in the middle of what was once her home.
