( act one ⎯ hidden in the sand ) 33 BBY ✶ 5494 Era IV
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The dazzling light of the Vimeran sun pierced her retinas, making her regret ever opening her eyes on the first place.
Zeisan quickly covered her face with her forearm to avoid looking directly at the gleaming sun and, once again, grimaced in regret as soon as the sand that had managed to sneak inside her baggy white sleeves spilled onto her face. She could barely recall the way she ended up on that specific spot, or the exact moment the sandstorm had begun or the way the wind had carried her along to drop her in the middle of nowhere.
She sat on the sand-soaked rock floor and spit out that that had gotten into her mouth. The scratchy feeling seemingly uninterested in leaving her tongue as she tried to get rid of the grains with her palms, equally covered in them. Zeisan wiped her face and her dusted off her clothes as best she could, slowly realizing that the feeling of dirt dancing all over her skin would not go away so easily.
Once her sight was clear, she stood up and looked around, trying to find the camp — the burning sun left her unable to properly make out details of anything in the edge of the horizon (if there really was anything), distorting her vision into swirls and waves she thought were amusing — but everything she could truly see were rocks and an endless sea of sand. No white Attaran platforms, no cities, no people, no dad.
Despite her better judgment, Zeisan began walking towards the nearest mountain she could see at the distance (unaware of the fact that its apparent closeness was the product of an illusion caused by the heat of the desert) hoping it was the rift the camp was settled on. She had seen hundreds of platforms made of the same materials and tailored with the same crystal patterns that one had: It was the simplest base they could've built, it shouldn't be that hard to find.
Zeisan stared at the waving ground as she walked, singing to herself under her breath, trying to find comfort in her mother's songs and replayed her father's warnings as she tried to make her way back to him, the same warnings she had so deliberately ignored. For a moment she thought of whatever Sulan could have done to return home after her disappearance — If she could do it then it shouldn't be that hard of a task. Zeisan only hoped it wouldn't be months before she could see her home again.
She had tried to listen Narek's rant and explanations over the planet's characteristics, its inhabitants and the clans — always as thorough as possible, a wide smile painted on his face — but her interest had faded away when her surroundings proved to be a much more exciting matter to focus on: The enormous complex and its seemingly complicated operations, too marvelous for her to skip over.
"The desert may look pretty," he had told her. "But it is ruthless." She now knew his intention hadn't been just to scare her away from doing whatever she wanted.
