The fire blazed. Its vermilion flares reached up into the night, pushing back the darkness. Tiny burning specks floated in the cool air, carried upwards with the smoke to swirl through the balding branches of the trees. The firelight illuminated the faces of the children gathered around it. Bright, eager eyes reflected the glow as they waited. The older ones chattered amongst themselves. The excitement in their voices filled the night. The younger ones giggled and gobbled bak’ka, the traditional holiday treat. Many clutched their kaydos to their chests, toys lovingly made and set out as a surprise for good little children on the morning of the Day of Celebration. Other figures, half-hidden in the flickering light, reclined in the grass and against the trunks of trees. The adults lounged in the background, sated from a long day of music and feasting, watching the young ones with indulgent smiles. A faint odor of fermented berry juice hung in the air.
The Elder made his way to the fallen log. He carefully lowered himself, leaning heavily on his cane. Once he was seated, the horde of excited children hushed in anticipation. The surrounding adults settled back, almost as enthusiastic as the young ones to hear the old tales again. There were many to be savored around the fires of the coming cold season, but tonight was a special night with a special tale all its own. The Elder cleared his throat and spread the claws of one hand in a gesture calling for silence.
"Tonight, children, we will recite the Celebration Story, as we have done for the past two hundred years. Our forefathers set aside this day to remember the events that made us who we are as a people. We honor them, and their sacrifices, by retelling their stories. We pledge anew our vow to impress on each generation the lessons of the previous ones, so that those sacrifices would not have been made in vain. It is only by retelling the past, keeping it alive in our memories that we can pay tribute to all that they have done for us.
It started long ago. Chaka the Great came to our humble world from beyond the stars. He had looked into the magic circle of the Chap’i and witnessed the terrible oppression of his brothers and was moved with compassion to help them. He stepped through the magic waters and came to this green world from his home far away.
The mighty warrior found a world much different then we see it today. The lush forest had been cut back by Man, who had taken the world by force many generations before. Man had burned the green grass, torn out the Mepeka bushes by the roots, and poisoned the waterways with his filth. Man had used terrible weapons to beat down our forefathers, and make slaves of our people. Man used us to work their fields, gather their food, haul their waters, and build their homes. In return our people were beaten, starved, and killed without pity or remorse. Man thought no more of our kind than of the wild dogs in the forest that scavenged Man’s filth. Chaka saw this and knew that our people had to be freed of the domination of Man.
The hands of Man had no claws. His skin was soft and easily torn. His teeth were blunt and small. His eyes were weak. Yet this puny creature held our kind in thrall by the force of his weapons. Savage pain sticks inflicted agony with a simple touch. Strong chains and locks bound our people day and night. Weapons that spit death from a distance were in the small hands of Man. These were the things that kept our people from freedom. These were the things that bowed their hearts with fear before the feeble Man.
Chaka knew this. In his wisdom, he called upon a creature of great power and wisdom. Through the great circle of stone, Chaka summoned his guardian angel, Dan’yl. Garbed in the green of the forest, Dan’yl came. Chaka showed him the plight of the people. He took Dan’yl by the hand and lead him through the village of Man to see what horror life had become for our forefathers. Dan’yl’s heart was filled with pity. He asked Chaka what he might do to aid the people. Chaka the Mighty asked for weapons to rival that of Man. He asked for a way to strike back at those who wielded the pain sticks and weapons of death.
Dan’yl agreed. He led Chaka away from the presence of Man, back into the safety of the forest. He called down thunder from the heavens. He lifted his hand and spoke into the clouds, commanding the lightening to heed his voice. He took the heart of a star and shaped it into golden metal. By the power of his voice, he bound the thunder into a long golden tube. Now Chaka had a weapon that could deliver death from a distance, one that spoke with the roar of thunder. Dan’yl twisted another piece of star metal into a smaller weapon and forced the lightening into it. This he gave Chaka, the power to throw lightening bolts with deadly accuracy. Dan’yl gave these weapons into Chaka’s hands to free the people from oppression.
Chaka and Dan’yl set forth and returned to the village of Man. The Leader of Man came out to meet them. Many of our people stood up in defiance, their hearts strengthened by Chaka’s spirit. They sought to prevent the Leader of Man from approaching the hero who had brought them hope. The Leader of Man laughed at their courage and slaughtered those of our people who tried to stand in his way. He challenged Chaka. Their duel was terrible to behold. Great shouts rent the air as they fought. The Leader of Man used his weapons to strike down Chaka, but Dan’yl caused the blasts to sail harmlessly over the mighty warrior’s head. Chaka used the thunder stick to strike down the leader of Man. He stood over his fallen foe and raised a cry of victory that lifted the hearts of all our people.
The Leader of Man was dead, but the rest of Man still lived. As long as there was one Man left, the people would not be safe. The people rose up at Chaka’s cry, but Man had hidden himself behind stout walls and fearsome weapons. Dan’yl called down fire from the sky to burn down the buildings of Man. The fire raged and destroyed all it touched, driving Man out into the forest where Chaka waited. With thunder and lightening in his fists, he struck down Man. The people rallied to Chaka, following him to cleanse our world of vile Man and his chains and pain sticks. Chaka freed our people, giving them the chance to live without fear.
Dan’yl returned to his home beyond the great circle. Before he left, he laid a blessing on Chaka’s head. He promised strength and hope to the people as long as they remembered the pain and struggle of those who had come before. He warned that should the people ever take their hard won freedom for granted, that they would one day lose it. We honor his words today by retelling the sacred story. We ask for his blessing on this generation and on all those who will follow so that we might continue to live with the blessings of freedom. We remember the compassion, the courage, and the determination of Chaka the Mighty as he fought for our people. We honor his memory by celebrating the freedom he gave to us."
The Elder painfully regained his feet. All eyes were riveted to him as he lifted a hand in blessing over the leaping flames.
"By the power and mercy of the angel, Dan’yl, and the strength and fearlessness of Chaka the Mighty, I call on all present to rejoice. As the Day of Celebration draws to a close, know that the ways of freedom will remain with us as long as we remember the struggle that bought it for us. We praise the name of Chaka."
"We praise the name of Chaka," the gathered crowd intoned in awe. Silence fell. The only sounds were the rustle of the leaves stirred by the gentle breeze and the crackle of the bonfire. All eyes followed the Elder as he slowly made his way back into the forest. The spell cast by the storyteller was broken by a child’s loud yawn. Adults chuckled and stirred. Young ones were called away from the dancing fire to the waiting arms of parents. Siblings squabbled over the remaining bak’ka. The frantic cries of a small one prompted a hurried search in the darkness by a handful of older children for a dropped kaydos. The shrill wail of the child subsided with the return of the lost Dan’yl doll. One family group after another melted into the darkness of the forest until all that remained was the banked fire, burning brightly in the night.
This little idea occurred while watching the final scene of the episode. I tried to ignore it but it wouldn't go away.
© August 18, 2001 The characters mentioned in this story are the property of Showtime and Gekko Film Corp. The Stargate, SG-I, the Goa'uld and all other characters who have appeared in the series STARGATE SG-1 together with the names, titles and backstory are the sole copyright property of MGM-UA Worldwide Television, Gekko Film Corp, Glassner/Wright Double Secret Productions and Stargate SG-I Prod. Ltd. Partnership. This fanfic is not intended as an infringement upon those rights and solely meant for entertainment. All other characters, the story idea and the story itself are the sole property of the author.
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