Snowpeak Sanctuary slept uneasily. The hangar lay open to the mountains, its great doors framing a sky the colour of bone and frost. Cold air drifted through in slow, steady breaths, carrying the scent of ice and stone and engine oil. Eve stood at its threshold and knew, with a clarity that hurt, that she could not remain here. Things would only worsen now. For the enclave. For the Jedi who had trusted her. For her mother.
Yet, Mariana had stayed.
They had argued until words failed them both, until grief sat between them like a third presence at the table. Eve had begged. Mariana had refused. In the end, there had been nothing left to do but accept it. She could not drag her mother away from the life she had built with her own hands, from the quiet fields and the low stone house that had held them for twenty years. Eve told herself, needed to believe, that the sheer remoteness of it would keep Mariana safe. That the galaxy might pass her by, as it always had.
Leaving her had torn something open Eve was not sure would ever heal.
The days after the coronation blurred together, heavy and colourless. With the threat no longer abstract, with eyes now turned openly upon Eshan, the weight she had been carrying finally settled in full. Exhaustion seeped into her bones. It surprised her how deep it went. How... final it all felt.
She stood in the hangar and felt yet again that she was not sure she could do it anymore.
Peace had never found her. Not truly. It slipped through her fingers again and again, just when she thought she had earned it. She had fought, hidden, endured, led, and still the galaxy asked for more. Always more.
Her gaze dropped. Isari sat at her feet, tail wagging softly against the hangar floor, eyes bright and utterly present. Unburdened. Faithful. Eve felt something loosen in her chest at the sight of her. Beyond Isari, the ship waited. Its ramp was lowered, its engines quiet but ready. And inside, Tigris.
Eve lifted her eye to the sanctuary itself, to the tall white marble walls rising behind her. So immaculate. So austere. Impressive in the way things were when they were meant to inspire obedience rather than belonging. She had tried to make herself fit here. Tried to become what it asked of her. It never suited her. She had always known it, even when she pretended otherwise.
Movement caught her attention. Steward Daral crossed the hangar floor, calling instructions, shepherding Jedi toward other ships bound for the Hidden Path base on Odessen, his presence calm and purposeful as ever. When he noticed her, his face softened. He lifted a hand and waved. Eve hesitated, then raised her own in reply. The gesture felt small, almost shy.
She was so tired.
Not just tired of fighting, but of just having to be what the galaxy always demanded. Of carrying a title that sat wrong on her shoulders. Of pretending she was made for a life that had only ever brought loss in its wake. Perhaps she never had been. Perhaps that was not a failure.
She had already said her goodbyes, messages sent quietly, one by one. Each different. Each honest. None of them easy.
Azurine Varek - I love you and miss you so dearly my sweet sister. I need to tell you, I'm leaving. I probably won't be around when you're back, but I'll send you secure coordinates once me and Tigris find a new home. Just please stay safe in the meantime, okay?
Colette - I'm sorry I never had the strength to step up when I should have. But I hope you find peace in this life, and I hope you can love yourself no matter what happens. I'm going away, but I'll keep you updated if I can reach you. I'm going to miss you so much. Please take care of yourself as best you can.
Reina Daival - I won't be here when you next come to Eshan. I'm sorry. I'm leaving, with Tigris, and please don't go looking for us. I just can't do this anymore. I will miss you, but I'll try to keep you updated. Just... please... be kind to yourself. Please be safe, okay? You deserve so much happiness, Reina. I hope you find it.
Katherine Holt - I've always looked up to you, and I don't just mean in that way. You are everything I have strived to be as a Jedi. Your strength and resolve as a person has inspired me since the day I met you. But I'm sorry, I can't keep being a Jedi anymore. I need to find a new purpose, I hope you understand. But I will keep you updated as to where me and Tigris go, and where we settle.
Corazona von Ascania - I need to go away. I'm not sure where, but it will be indefinitely. I can't do this Cora, I need to get away from this life and find some peace finally. I will tell you where we go once we actually know ourselves, but I want to just say I love you dearly. You are one of the most astonishing women I have ever met, and I have always looked up to you. Please stay safe, stay happy and full of love. You deserve it so much.
Valery Noble - I'm sorry. I guess I wasn't strong enough after all. I cannot live this life anymore, and I need to find new meaning in my life. I'm not a Jedi, and I'm not sure I ever was. But you made me into a woman, and helped me learn how to love myself for who I am. I'm so grateful for you. I will try to keep you updated on what me and Tigris do next. I'll always love you, Val.
Jane had been the hardest. Sending her away to Odessen, to place her future in someone else's hands. The tears had come then, unstoppable, and Eve had held her padawan until there was nothing left to say. But it was for the best. She knew that. It did not make it hurt less.
Eve turned toward the ship. Tigris waited for her at the foot of the ramp, and something inside Eve finally gave way. The tightness eased. The constant vigilance slipped. She felt her mouth curve into a smile, small and tentative. The first in what felt like months.
Maybe they could do this. Maybe the three of them could find something quieter. Something kinder. A life away from war and watching and being watched. Away from the Jedi, from a path that had cost her so much.
She stepped forward. The ramp hummed beneath her boots. Isari followed close, brushing past her legs before darting ahead into the ship. Eve took her place beside Tigris in the cockpit, settling into the familiar seat as if she belonged there more than she ever had among marble halls. Through the viewport, Snowpeak Sanctuary stood stark against the mountains, pale and unyielding. Eve looked at it for a long moment, then her focus drifted, slipping past stone and snow to a farmhouse far away. To a hearth. To her mother's hands. To a life she could not save without leaving.
It was not an ending. She felt that, deep down. It was something else.
Tigris' hand found hers, warm and solid, pulling her gently back into herself. Eve turned, met her gaze, and leaned in to kiss her. It was soft and grounding as ever, full of everything words could not hold. When they parted, she reached down to stroke Isari's fur as the fox curled contentedly behind them.
"To a new world," Eve murmured, more breath than voice. "To a new life."
The engines stirred. The ship lifted, slow and steady, the hangar falling away beneath them. Snowpeak shrank. The mountains followed. Eshan itself became a curve of white and blue beneath the quiet winter sky.
Eve looked ahead. Stars waited there, endless and bright. The same stars she had once stared up at as a child, wondering what lay beyond the cold nights of her homeworld, wondering if she would ever touch them.
The ship vanished into the dark between them.
And for the first time in a long while... Eve let herself hope.
