Razi character sketch

Razi ran as fast as she could, her azure hair a sharp contrast to the dull red dunes. She knew the ten miles of land encircling her village better then any of her people. Even when the sandstorms came and changed the shape of the land, she could still recognize every part. This is where she escaped to, where she spent most of her free time. She would come out here and run. She loved looking at the desert landscape.

The elders taught that the desert was the symbol of death. They said that God put the desert there to teach that harshness was evil; that the result of harshness was a lack of life. Life could not exist in such environs, it could not grow. Harshness only resulted in emptiness and death. Razi disagreed. She believed that there was much beauty and life to be found in the desert. She would argue with the elders often.

“It is harsh. It kills many seeds, but in doing so it gives room to life that would have no where else to live.” They would look at her in anger and amusement then.
“It is this desert which gave place for the Macrchikite to live. That alone should be enough to prove this doctrine, especially to you, dear child.”

That is how Obligi, the elder who had taken her in, always answered. He often would take time to answer her questions but aside from the fact that there was a loving God who created all life, she disagreed with him about everything.

The elders never understood that. They would speak of how great her mother and father had been in the community, though they had seen her father, Malica, as a rebel. Razi didn’t remember her mother, but to her, Malica had been her greatest hero. He taught her to help others no matter what and to stand up to the Macrchikite. He taught her this many times though rarely through words. These had been his final lessons to her as well. Razi, like all the other Daligani, had been tested at a very young age to see where her strengths were. She had been lucky enough to test extremely high on the intelligence test and had been assigned to learn and work with mechanics as her assigned ‘career’. Though the master Macrchikite would often have her in their city to do this, like all the other slave children who worked in town, once a week she had been allowed to join her father at his work, which was in the fields. One day when she was nine she was out in the plant houses with her father picking sweet cua’iai berries when one of the elders next to them collapsed. She relived that scene in her mind every day.

“Stay my little one and keep harvesting.” Malica said as he stopped his work and ran over to give the old one water and support. One of the Macrchikite overseers, Be'asikite, was watching from his platform stand. Razi looked up from her work as he started yelling. “Get back to work Malica and leave the man alone.” Razi watched as her father continued to help the man, holding his head up as he poured water down his throat. Be'asikite walked over and stood towering above them. “I said get back to work.” Malica didn’t even look up. Razi closed her eyes as Be'asikite’s hand came down hard, punching Malica, driving him to the ground. Razi opened her eyes to see the master beating the old one. She glanced around at the other slaves. They had all stopped their work and stood watching. She looked back as her father stood up. He smiled at her. Then he pushed himself in between the master and the old one. The master hit him several times while Malica stood his ground, without making a sound in protest or trying to protect himself. Suddenly, the master swung around hitting Razi and grabbing her telling Malica to follow. Razi winced as she was almost dragged to the center of the villige. Once they reached the village square where the poles were, Be'asikite tied Malica between the poles and rang the bells to draw all the slaves to the punishing dais. Razi held her stomach. She had seen this done often as her father disobeyed the masters more then any four other people, and though she was scared and angry, she knew it that in a few days he would be well again. But her father had disobeyed one to many times. Once two of the other masters got there, while Razi watched, Malica was stoned to death and fed to the carnivorous patalik beasts. Grief, confusion and anger were the only things she knew for the next few days and when she next saw Be'asikite she did something very un-Daligani like; her nine year old fist connected with his scaley reptilian eye. She was given the hardest beating she had ever endured but, the Macrchikite weren’t as angry as they were stunned and amused. The Daligani were not amused. Obligi and many other explained to her what she had done was wrong. She sat through many lectures where they reminded her of the teachings of God, that no one should raise a hand to another, no matter the provocation, and that what she had done was a terrible sin.

That was the day she had started disagreeing with the elders. That was when she started believing that fighting was the right course as long as it was against those that think they have a right to harm others simply because they wish to. That was when the town, though looking at her in love for her ability and desire to always help those who came to her, also looked at her in dread, for they also saw the anger in her that they believed should not be. So she had grown, never really making many friends in the village unless you counted Obligi, and was always in trouble. She was seen as more of a rebel then her father, as loving, vengeful, smart, and a paradox. Mostly she was seen as a child. So when she had free time, when others didn’t need her help with something, she ran. Some days she ran slowly to enjoy the desert and to think. Other times it was to drowned out all thoughts and feelings. The speed of her run often showed which it was. Today, though she ran fast, she kept thinking of the days earlier events.

Be'asikite had always been her main master and since the day she had hit him, he had taken a keen interest in her. She had work as a technician because of her intelligence, and therefor had been taught to read. She would often use this and her access to computers to cause problems for the Macrchikite when she wasn’t under heavy guard. Last week she had been caught at it for what seemed like the hundredth time. After a public punishment at the city square, much bigger then her simple village one, Beasikite decided that she should no longer be in that occupation and ordered her be one of his house servants starting the next week, once she had healed from her torture. Razi knew very well what that often entailed. She was terrified and furious, but while Obligi was also scared for her he said it was what she got for stooping to the their level all those years ago and refused to her speak of it further when she cried to him. But lying in bed she had thought of yet another way to get even with Be'asikite in his own home. So with nothing she needed to think about, with no one to turn to who agreed with her ideas and would sympathize with her, and dreading the morrow, she ran with all her might, as fast as her padded feet would take her.