The Arrakis sun had already dropped below the horizon, and the sky was transforming into a canvas of oranges and lilacs as Paul Atreides and his mother, Lady Jessica, descended a sandy slope into a rocky canyon. There, amid wind-carved shadows, the true masters of the desert awaited.
Paul felt the vibration before he heard the voices. It was an invisible presence watching him from the sand itself. Jessica, at his side, slowed her pace and squinted, taking in the arrangement of bodies among the rocks. "They surround us," she whispered, her voice tense.
A figure emerged from the shadows, tall, thin, dressed in a tightly fitted stillsuit, a rifle in hand. The dark, weathered face was half hidden beneath the veil. The eyes were an absolute blue, devoid of whites. Spice blue. Desert blue.
"You are the outsiders," the man said in a deep voice. He looked at Jessica first, then at Paul, measuring, weighing.
"We are," Paul replied respectfully, though his body was tense as a spring.
"I am Stilgar, Naib of this sietch. And you are alive only because I want to know why."
Behind him, other Fremen began to emerge from their hiding places. All armed, silent, calculating. Paul noticed that they moved not like soldiers, but like predatory animals, united by a common instinct. None spoke, but all watched.
Jessica took a step forward.
"We are not looking for a fight," she said firmly.
Stilgar turned to her.
"You are the Sayyadina, are you not? I see it in your movements."
Jessica stood erect. She neither confirmed nor denied.
A second Fremen, his face hardened and his expression defiant, stepped forward.
"We cannot bring outsiders into the sietch!" This is madness, Stilgar!
Stilgar didn't look at him. "Shut up, Jamis. I'm seeing with my own eyes."
But Jamis didn't stop. "They'll endanger us. Look at them: he's just a child, and she's a witch."
Jessica took another step forward. In a movement so swift it was barely visible, she disarmed the nearest Fremen, turned her weapon on Jamis, and pointed it directly at him.
The silence that followed was absolute. Not a grain of sand dared to move.
Paul hadn't even blinked. His mother had acted like a flash of lightning. Control. Dominance.
Jessica held the weapon raised.
"If you want to kill us, you'll have to earn it. But I can be of value to your people. And my son too."
Stilgar raised his hand slowly.
"This is a woman of power. I could teach. And the boy... there is wisdom in his eyes."
Jamis spat in the sand. A grave gesture among the Fremen.
Stilgar turned to him, his face hard.
"You have defied him. He will speak to your bones."
The threat lingered for a few seconds. But Jamis stepped back, retreating toward the group. There was no duel. Not yet.
Stilgar lowered his rifle.
"We'll take you to the sietch. But if one of you brings danger to our people, you pay in blood."
Jessica nodded. "Fair enough."
Paul took a deep breath. He knew they were crossing a threshold. They weren't invited. They were tolerated. And that was more than enough, for now.
Stilgar beckoned. Two Fremen approached and handed out full stillsuits. Jessica received them with a small nod of thanks. As they donned them, one of the Fremen approached Paul.
"I'm Chani," the young woman said, her voice steady and calm. Her blue eyes studied him with a mixture of curiosity and expectation.
Paul felt like he'd seen her before. Not in this world... but in his dreams.
"I know," she replied quietly.
Chani looked at him for a second longer, not fully understanding. Then she turned away without saying anything.
Paul adjusted his stillsuit, and for the first time, he felt like he was beginning to become something new. Not an Atreides. Not a duke.
Something forged with sand, blood... and destiny.
The march toward the sietch began in silence, the stars guiding the way. Behind them lay the ruins of House Atreides. Ahead, the depths of the desert.
And in the center, a young, silent figure, whose footprints were beginning to write a new future on the eternal dunes of Arrakis.