It started like it always does.
Boyish eyes full of luster and life, hands unmarred by time and war, and a heart unbroken by inconceivable pain. Airspeeders flew in unrealistic patterns overhead as he played in the park, running freely through the bright-green grass. Grass that had, of course, never actually been present on Dromund Kaas.
Thayne was lucid dreaming, or at the very least drifting just below the surface of consciousness. When his sleep was blessed with such a vision, he gave his mind and heart completely to the whims of his subconsciousness. Here, he could be whoever he wanted. Live any life imaginable. But somehow, he always came back here. Back home.
In the distance, he could hear his mother's voice.
'Thayne! Thayne, darling, it's time for dinner!' she called.
With excitement, Thayne turned on his heels and made way for home. He knew what would happen next. It happened the same way every time, no matter how he went about it. But it never stopped him from seeing the dream through. Thayne walked, eager at first but growing ever timider with each passing footstep. As the Tameron house came into view, so did the smoke. It was a dark cloud flowing from his home, speckled with embers and accompanied with a devastatingly familiar sense of dread.
His shaking hands reached for the maglock, sliding open the doors to find a grisly scene that had haunted him for years: His mother and father dead on the living room floor, their bodies burned and ravaged by lightsaber wounds. His brother and sister, too, scattered about like bones in a desecrated tomb. Thayne tried to scream but found he couldn't make a sound. The peril formed a lump in his throat that stopped his breathing, burning his lungs as the flames lapped at his feet.
A voice, one he'd grown to hate, whispered hurtful words into his ears.
'This is your fault. All of this is on you. They cried for help, but you never listened. They begged for mercy, but you never offered it. And when the life faded from their eyes, all they could see was you.'
Searing embers stung his flesh as the fire encompassed him, burning him up, punishing him for what he had become. It was now that the screams would ring out, the pain too much to bear.
And just as quickly as it began, the dream was over.
Thayne shot straight up, gasping for air, hands clawing at his chest to free his lungs so they may breathe. A sheen of sweat covered his body. His eyes darted frantically about the room, looking for any sign of a fire, but his mind finally began to calm as he realized it was just a dream. He was safe in his quarters aboard the Nomad. Docked on... Denon? The Seven Corners, maybe?
His clouded head couldn't recall. All he knew is that he was alive. He fell back into the sheets, the cold pool of sweat sending a shiver down his spine as he steadied his breathing.
"I'm alive," he said bitterly to himself.
"I'm alive."
