Prior to the year 462, Kiith Paktu was a
minor farming kiith, living on the slopes
above the Salt Sea. On the year their most
famous leader, Majiir Paktu, was born, the
long rift between the religious leaders of
Kiith Siid and Kiith Gaalsi, which were
then the most powerful kiithid of the
north, finally became an unbridgeable
divide. In 462, the famous Siidim Council
announced a new Dogma - - the traditional
Siidim cosmology, which once held that all kiithid on Kharak were exiled from a heavenly paradise, was abandoned. The
truth, according to the proclamation of 462, was that only the Siidim were of
divine origin - - all other kiiths were native to Kharak, and therefore inferior,
their blood tainted by corrupting sand.
In accordance with the new Dogma, many cruel pogroms were passed against
non-Siidim kiiths -- the people known as "Gritiidim," or "sand people." By
far the harshest of these measures was the Clean Water Act, which forbade
non-Siidim kiithid from living at the headwaters of a river or stream, lest they
foul the water which Siidim downstream would have to drink. Hundreds of
families were displaced by Siidim temple men, turned out of their ancestral
homes and made to march downstream, carrying as much of their former lives
with them as they could. In 488, Kiith Paktu joined the ranks of the
dispossessed.
At the same time, the temples of the neighboring Kiith Gaalsi had become
obsessed with sins of pride and by the redemption of Kharak through
suffering. The Siidim made obvious targets for the sermons of Gaalsi holy
men: for every Siidim sin of pride, they said, a more brutal and excruciating
expiation was demanded by the gods of Kharak. Lesser kiiths of the north,
already suffering under the weight of Siidim oppression, often were willing to
join their holdings to the Gaalsi rather than see them taken by the Siidim;
many welcomed Gaalsien soldiers and temple men into their holdfasts, only
to find themselves held at swordpoint and made to watch as their "sinful"
books and belongings were burned to appease the gods. Heavy tributes of
both food and fodder were demanded by Gaalsien armies, and appalling
sacrifices were sometimes demanded by Gaalsien priests, who saw no reason
why the pure of heart should suffer alone. Clashes between Siidim and Gaalsien holdings intensified over time, and even
remote kiithid were forced to choose sides; both great kiithid were too
powerful for any smaller kiith to challenge on its own. Caught between the
proverbial rock and a hard place, the Gritiidim were finally ready to try
the unthinkable: crossing the Great Banded Desert to the south, looking for
new land.
By this time Majiir Paktu had become head of the Paktu kiith-sa. Although
the First Migration may not have been entirely his idea, it’s certain that the
fate of all the people of Kiith Paktu was in his hands. It is difficult for us to
imagine today what he must have felt as his people built the first great sailers
at the edge of the desert. Although many Kharakii believed there might be
arable land at the southern pole, no one had ever attempted to cross the
Great Banded and returned to tell the tale. The only confirmation of a land south of the desert came from mad Mannanii travelers, rambling about
endless seas and "“grasses that touched the sky."
The Migration offered slim hope at best, so slim that no Kharakian dared to
risk it until there was no other hope at all.
The rest, as they say, is history. Nearly 50 kiithid set out from the plain at
Albegiido in 490 and sailed into the Great Banded Desert, sweeping over the
burning sands on the winds of the seasonal storm, the Chak m’Hot. By the
time the men, women and children of the First Migration reached the shore
of the Hunon Mountains, only 17 families were left, and all of them had lost
weaker members on the journey. Still more died as they struggled over the
Hunon; without anyone to guide them to the easiest pass, they lost many to
poisonous water, rockfalls, thirst and lizard-bite.
As the story goes, many of the Firsters fell into despair among the burning
red canyons of the Hunon and did not want to go on. Depite whether he had
been the leader from the beginning of the Migration, Majiir Paktu was
definitely the leader on that day. He stood at the head of the column and
pleaded with the people to continue. "I can smell the sea," he said. "It’s only
a little farther."
The people did not believe him, and more than a few turned to start the hard
trek back to their sand-sailers, still docked at the desert shore. But as legend
has it, at that moment a bird appeared in the cloudless sky above them -- a
sea-spirit, circling against the hot sun.
The kiithid of the First Migration followed the sea-spirit and Majiir Paktu
through the mountains, and when they stood on the last red hilltop, they
were looking down at the rolling breakers of a great grey sea. Straight away,
that expanse of water was named the Majiirian Sea, after the man who
brought them there.
The people of the First Migration settled on the shores of the Majiirian, and
were presumed dead by many in the North for the almost two years it took to
build up their homes and holdings. In the spring of the third year, however,
Majiir Paktu and a group of picked volunteers attempted another crossing of
the Great Banded Desert to take back word of the new land to the North,
where so many still lived in a nightmare of war and oppression.
Majiir Paktu did not survive the return, but seven of his followers did. These
seven Paktu kiithsmen passed through the northlands on foot, taking word of
the new land with them everywhere they went. Once that word spread, there was no stopping it. Dozens of families built sandsailers on the famous plain
of Albegiido every year, trying to escape the Heresy Wars and the madness of
their Siidim and Gaalsi masters.
Alas, Siidim and Gaalsi were not quite finished with the people who escaped
their tyranny. Although they ignored the Migrations for many years, both
Siidim and Gaalsi lost many hectares of holdings to the war. By 650 it
occurred to both of the great northern kiithid that many of those who fled to
the south were still considered their vassal clans and by treaty still owed them
lands and tribute.
There were at least three major attempts to assault the southern lands from
652-700. The last of these was the most successful; the army of Liam Gaalsi
actually arrived at the pass of the Hunon mountains almost intact in the
spring of 698, ready to subdue the unruly kiithid of the southlands and their
kiith-sa.
On that day, Kim Paktu, the grandson of Majiir Paktu and leader of the Paktu
kiith-sa, arrayed an army of 30,000 swords on the shore of the Majiirian.
Every one of them wore the colors of Kiith Paktu, and every standard bearer
carried its flag.
"These are my people," Kim Paktu said. "And this land is ours. You have no
vassals here."
Badly outnumbered and facing a fresh and well-supplied army, Liam Gaalsi
nonetheless led his troops into battle. Very few of the Gaalsi who followed
him that day escaped with their lives. Although they killed hundreds of Paktu,
the southern kiith-sa eventually prevailed, and no such crusade ever was
attempted again.
To this day, the Paktu are still the kiith-sa of all southern kiithid, even those
that are not closely related to them by blood. The flag of the Paktu is white,
the color of the sandsails which carried its people across the Banded Desert,
emblazoned with a sun stained red by the blood of those who died in search
of -- or in defense of -- freedom. Silhouetted against that sun is the shape of
the sea-spirit, an eternal symbol of hope and faith.
Paktu believe fiercely in independence and despise priests and dictators. Its
people are optimistic, innovative, and venturesome -- when things are darkest,
someone will almost always repeat the kiith’s motto: "I can smell the sea."
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