A soft breeze drifted its way through the forest, gliding through tree branches and brushing against the fresh spring grass in a carefree fashion. The breeze was a new one, freshly born and eager to explore at its own pace. This breeze, like many others, was not particularly conscious, at least according to the other sentient beings in the galaxy. It still had goals, it still had actions it could take, but it didn’t really have either the will or need to decide such things.
It was a simple not life.
That changed though. Because as the breeze was going through this forest, accompanied by the crunching steps of deer upon grass and the tweets of songbirds, it felt something. Now, for those unaware, breezes usually don’t feel. This was quite confusing for the young draft of wind, which was confused even greater by its feelings of confusion. It soon identified the reason for these new found feelings.
A pair of humans walked through the forest, whisps of idle chatter drifting throughout the serene woodland, a female and a male, with the male carrying a box of strange grey flowers. The female walked at a pleasant gait, her hands clasped behind her back as she admired the scenery. Despite her seeming normal, the breeze recognised the worrying glances that the female shot towards the male. It was understandable why as well when the breeze switched its attention to said male.
Unlike the female, the male was tense, and she recognised the feeling of worry it had felt only moments before in a bird nesting over its eggs. He was tense, and every step and movement he took was rigid as though it was an effort to even be standing up. Yet continue on he did, the tension in him temporarily relieving every time the female spoke.
Curious, the breeze decided to investigate further, moving through the pair naturally so as to not raise suspicion as to its own sentience. As the breeze touched the forms of the two, everything suddenly made sense. Why the wind could feel and think. Why the two of them were here in this forest in the middle of nowhere. What her purpose was.
Acting quickly the wind did a fanciful twirl around the pair before sending herself in the direction of their destination, which was a little more off to the left. She remained present enough to stop anymore stepping off the most direct path.
After all, mother would not be pleased if the young breeze let these two get lost in the forest.
----------------------------------------
Vancil was absolutely terrified. Somehow, the Storm had followed he and Kandria. It should have been impossible. He had never heard of something like this ever happening. But then, the Storm itself was such an impossible occurrence. Could it have followed everyone all along? Did it have the largest spy network in the galaxy??
“Scared, Sith?” Kandria teased, sending a smug smirk his way.
Vancil bristled at the insult to his pride, “Of some wind? Never.”
Kandria shot him a look of disbelief, “Well, how about you stop walking like a droid then.”
Vancil’s lips had begun to twist into a snarl before he pushed it back down and tried to follow her advice, injecting some sort of naturalness into his movements. This seemed to satisfy Kandria, who turned her gaze back forwards as they walked in the direction that this damned wind kept on pushing them in.
The rest of the walk was silent, Vancil soon coming to terms with the inevitable fact that it was unlikely he would ever escape this god in corporeal form. His gaze flicked to Kandria, her bright blue eyes seeming to shine bright as it beheld the forest landscape before them.
“I hardly believe the sight of grass is what amazes you.” He pointed out.
Kandria didn’t even look in his direction as she shrugged, a small smile coming onto her face, “Well, I haven’t really been in a forest where someone hasn’t been trying to actively kill me.” She tapped her chin in though, “I suppose there was one time before the outbreak of the Great War when I accompanied Master Coval to a small thicket, but that was hardly a forest.”
Vancil raised an eyebrow in surprise, “Sounds like the Jedi life was quite dull.” He of course already knew it was dull, but it was fun to rub it in.
Kandria didn’t take the bait, unfortunately, only replying with a shrug, “Well, it was my life. I only wish it stayed the same in this current period.”
Kandria’s gaze darkened at her mention of the current Jedi Order. Vancil understood her feelings on the matter of this new Jedi Order somewhat. Honestly, he was disappointed with them. Mainly due to the fact that they had offered him, a Sith, sworn enemies of the Jedi, to join them. It just went to show one thing, that they were desperate for any sort of lead on these Banite Sith. He scoffed internally. If this was the Jedi Order that he and Kandria knew he’d be rotting in one of the deepest and most obscure prison cells the Republic had if he wasn’t downright executed.
Love this novel? Read it on Royal Road to ensure the author gets credit.
“It’s quite amazing that the planet managed to recover from the Great War, even if it was 3000 years ago.” He commented, directing the conversation away from the organisation he had dedicated his life to fighting.
Kandria nodded and sent a thankful glance his way, “Yes, it is. This was a bloodbath for both sides of the war. Personally, I’m glad it managed to recover.”
The conversation petered off again as they walked in silence beside one another. Vancil idly shifted his grip on the box of Storm Petals in his hands as his thoughts drifted back to the special little flower that lay within his cloak. His eyes flicked to study Kandria’s face.
She was quite pretty.
He didn’t quite get a chance to follow up on that thought which had popped up several times already as the tall, thick trees gave way to a small clearing. In the centre of this clearing, was their destination.
A large monument of black stone embedded into the grassy plain around it. The monument depicted two different masks, a Sith War Mask similar to his own one and a Jedi War Mask similar to the one he had seen Kandria’s master wearing. Both lay side by side, askew from one another as though discarded or dropped onto the thick slab of the same material as the masks.
Vancil found himself frozen in place; his feet grounded into the floor as his face fell into its emergency neutral guise. He promised himself he wouldn’t be afraid. Of course, he had also promised many things to many people he had failed. He gulped and slowly forced his legs to move, the sound of crunching grass beneath his metal boots ringing in his ears with each step.
The box of flowers suddenly felt very heavy in his hands. Kandria had remained behind, and while he was thankful that she couldn’t properly see his feelings, he still internally wished she was by his side. The distance that once seemed so long was closed in an instant, and he found himself still once again, this time directly in front of the words engraved onto the black stone.
Memorial for the fathers, mothers, brothers, and sisters, who died on Aaloth for their beliefs, Sith or Jedi.
The memorial was surprisingly acknowledging of both sides, although he supposed that the planet had switched hands between both sides so much that the surviving residents probably didn’t care what side they were on anymore, simply that the war was over.
His eyes lingered on the word ‘sister’.
His sister had died here, her corpse likely buried beneath the mud and grime of the battlefields of Aaloth, never to see the sun or feel the wind against her skin again. Silently, he kneeled down in front of the memorial and began picking the flowers out of the box, placing them all in 3 piles with 7 flowers in each.
Once done he slid the box to the side and folded his hands in front of him as he sat back and crossed his legs. A look of contemplation came onto his face. In truth, he hadn’t really known his sister at all. He couldn’t even remember her face. It was a miracle he had even managed to remember her name in the Jedi Archives.
Julia was one of the most primary reasons that he hated the Jedi with such passion. When he was still young, his father had taken him and his baby sister, only 1 year old at that point, off the planet to visit a place he had gone to once. The experience itself had been amazing, at least to a child who had only ever known the grey whirl above and the grassy plains below. The planet had mountains. It had a sun.
That was about all the pleasantness that lasted from his memory of the trip. The rest was feelings of betrayal. His father was an ambitious man, always ready to do what it took to increase his status within the dominion. Unfortunately, this meant he would stop at nothing. Nothing. Not even selling off his children to a Jedi for access to advanced weaponry.
Vancil was lucky. While the Jedi had identified the Force within him, he had ‘had too much of an attachment to his planet and family’. His sister though…
That was the second to last time he saw her.
Both Vancil and mother had been furious at father, for both the betrayal of trust they had placed in him but also the loss of the newest addition to their family. And the advanced weaponry father had retrieved was of no use when mother had bashed his head in with the cradle that had once held Julia. The last time he had seen her had been during he and his mother’s visit to the Jedi Temple years later. While they had been denied Vancil was determined, sneaking his way past the guards and deeper into the temple. It was there that he had managed to peak out into one of the many courtyards. And it was there that he saw Julia.
She had the black hair of the Romuval clan, but had inherited the brown eyes of their father compared to Vancil’s original green eyes he had received from his mother. He shouldn’t have recognised her, and it may have even just been some random child. But Vancil knew. He knew that was his sister.
A peak was all he had gotten before a temple guard had found him and dragged him back to mother who was held at the front entrance. The two of them had then promptly been barred from entry for life.
He hunched forward as he shut his eyes, burning the last image of Julia he had into his mind, “May the winds find you no matter where you are, or where you have gone.” Vancil hesitated for a second before he added, ”I’m sorry I couldn’t keep my promise.”
Vancil opened his eyes but remained hunched over, his hands laying limp against the concrete in front of him. His heart felt empty. He felt empty. And the final truth he had been hiding from even before his transportation to this new time period hit.
His sister was dead.
Vancil’s eyes burned in an unfamiliar way. His face suddenly felt very wet, as though it was raining. He tried to maintain some sort of composure by trying to count the 3 piles of Storm Petals, but could barely see in front of him due to his now blurred and wet vision. A choking sound came from his mouth as he tried desperately to maintain some form of composure. A metal gauntlet rose to wipe away the tears that fell freely from his face, to little success however as they were soon replaced by a new wave which continued the onslaught of sadness. He didn’t know how long he cried. Only that when he felt Kandria’s arms around him the floodgates broke, and he stopped trying to maintain any composure as his head rested on her shoulder.
And so for the first time in nearly two decades, Vancil Romuval lowered the defences, the masks, the fake expressions, and cried his heart out.