Beneath the Red Dragon

Jessica felt it; she and her son Paul were not welcomed by the Northern Fremen. For the sake of their lives and future, she had no choice but to agree with fear in her heart.

Fortunately, as a member of the Sisterhood, she knew that to become the Holy Mother, although the rituals might differ across regions, one must ultimately drink the Water of Life to unlock the memories of all female ancestors within the bloodline. Only by possessing the wisdom and memories of all female ancestors could one earn the Fremen’s acceptance.

This was a rule established by past Preachers and Guardians dispatched by the Sisterhood to wield power, and now, it became Jessica’s trial.

Although the Water of Life is toxic to humans, members of the Sisterhood are not afraid. She is only afraid of carrying all the memories left behind by the previous Holy Mothers in the bloodline, as she would also bear the centuries of suffering and sorrow of the Fremen race.

Yet, after comforting her son, Jessica bravely stepped into the underground chamber to accept the destined trial.

All the Fremen had left the chamber, leaving only Jessica to face the trial with the elderly Holy Mother and the Attendant, while Paul waited patiently outside the chamber entrance, praying for his mother’s safe passage through the trial.

However, the Fremen waiting outside broke into laughter, resembling mockery and ridicule.

Paul sighed, noticed the young girl Chini among them, and approached her, asking softly, ”What are you laughing at?”

No one among the Fremen took notice of his question, except Chini.

”Nothing,” Chini halted her laughter.

Looking at the Fremen around who wore smiles, Paul spoke softly, ”You don’t believe in it, do you?”

”No, we don’t,” Chini replied decisively.

”That’s just the faith of the South,” a female Fremen warrior proclaimed loudly.

”Southern faith?” Paul curiously asked, as his shallow interactions with the Fremen left him with limited understanding, and his prophetic abilities for now could only comprehend those around him.

”The Southern tribes believe there will be a Savior,” the female warrior remarked, sitting on the ground and looking up at the young boy with a smile, ”to save us, to rid us of evil.”

Paul lowered his eyes and inquired, ”You don’t believe in Lisan al-Gaib?”

”We only believe in the Fremen,” the equally youthful female warrior Chini, crouched on the ground like a man, said solemnly.

”To control people’s hearts, tell them a Savior will come, and they will willingly wait for centuries, even amidst sorrow and suffering.”

Paul furrowed his eyebrows, looked at Stilgar praying with the faithful, and asked, ”What about him?”

”Stilgar? He’s a Southerner,” the girl Chini smiled, ”Didn’t you hear his accent?”

The surrounding Northern Fremen burst into laughter.

Paul fell silent, pondering deeply.

The silent atmosphere was shattered as Jessica, now through the trial, was carried out by the Attendants, though still weak, it was enough to prove her under the title of Holy Mother.

Paul stayed by his mother’s side, while all the surrounding Fremen began discussing, noisily and chaotically.

”You all saw it; this is proof he is the chosen one,” Stilgar stepped forward, attempting to take control of the conversation.

”You witnessed with your own eyes, Lisan al-Gaib’s mother remained unharmed after drinking the deadly Holy Water! She accomplished it, just as the prophecy showed.”

”That’s not a miracle,” the young warrior girl Chini yelled in anger, courageously stepping out of the crowd and standing up bravely against the leader, ”The prophecies were written by their Sisterhood!”

”You are blaspheming against the gods,” Stilgar stared sternly at the girl Chini, ”The prophecy has been fulfilled!”

”The Mahdi must be a Fremen!” the female warrior who had mocked Paul earlier stepped forth and shouted loudly.

”EraCos must be liberated by its own people!”

All the Fremen began to argue.

The silent Paul turned around and suddenly yelled loudly, ”She’s right, she’s right!”

Then all the Fremen stopped arguing, looking at the young boy, the prophesized Savior, confused about what he was doing and why he had spoken those words.

”This isn’t a miracle,” Paul calmly sat on the ground and spoke softly, ”My mother has received training in this area. The Sisterhood’s advanced members know how to convert toxins.”

The young boy’s gradually deepening eyes stared at all the Fremen, slowly shaking his head, ”I am not the Mahdi,”

Then he stood up, stood before all the Fremen, and his voice gradually rose.

”I am not here to lead you,” the young boy suddenly switched from interstellar common language to Fremen language, with sincerity and determination in his eyes.

”I came here solely to learn your ways of survival,”

”Let me fight alongside you; I have only this one request,” the boy glanced at those warriors opposing him and spoke sincerely.

One by one, the voices of opposition gradually faded, while the Fremen who originally worshipped the Savior quietly discussed, ”The Mahdi is too humble, unwilling to admit he is the Mahdi! This further proves he is the Mahdi!”

Thus, Paul began to integrate into the Fremen as a warrior. His words not only earned him even more fervent support from the original Southern faith faction but also temporarily gained the acceptance of the Northern Fremen faction. Jessica also became the tribe’s new Holy Mother.