KIITH PAKTU
Prior to the year 462, Kiith Paktu was a minor farming kiith, living on the slopes above the Salt Sea. On the year that 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. 462 was the year that 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--and that 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, were often 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 kiith were soon forced to choose sides. Both great kiiths 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 today to imagine what he must have felt as his people built the first great sailers at the edge of the desert; although many Kharakii believed that 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 was a 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 fifty 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 seventeen 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. Whether he had been the leader from the beginning of the Migration or not, 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 kiiths 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 kiith 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 the year 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 was ever attempted again.
To this day, the Paktu are still the kiith-sa of all southern kiiths, even those which are not closely related to them by blood. The flag of the Paktu is white, the color of the sandsails which carried their 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 believes fiercely in independence, and despises priests and dictators. Its people are optimistic, innovative, and venturesome-and when things are darkest, someone will almost always repeat the kiith's motto: "I can smell the sea."
