What Was and What Will Be

Later that morning, the two of them left for the Ee'everwest mausoleum together, where generations of her family found their eternal rest.

Despite its association, it looked little like the graves found elsewhere in the galaxy. There were no shadowed halls, nor any cold, dank crypts. The structure sat beneath the open sky instead, atop a gentle rise overlooking the surrounding countryside. White columns framed the walkways in an orderly fashion along the entrance, draped with dramatic blooming vines, while carved memorial alcoves lined the terraces beyond. Here, the dead were continuously surrounded by living things. Blind eyes staring out at the carefully tended beds of lilies, roses, and native Naboo flowers, whose color spilled across the grounds and filled the wind with the scent of blossoms and fresh earth.

They passed by several tombs, whose likeness was carved into the stone covering their resting place, with the oldest among them having crumbled away the features, their faces forgotten by the endless march of time. But towards the end, many of the spaces were open, empty and unsealed, waiting for their dead. Waiting for the rest of the Sal-Soren brood to join them. The thought was not a pleasant one for her, he could imagine. For him and his… he refused to put too much consideration into the unknown.

"Over here," Briana then said, pulling Vizion by the hand and down the adjacent pathway. They ended up in front of seven tombs, side by side: her grandparents, Lady Sarnae and Lord Jaggen, and beside them, three of their six children. Further along lay their fifth daughter, Teyla, and beside her, Baros.

Her parents. He hadn't been there that day, and he used to regret that, but what could he have done, truly? The grip Vizion's beloved had on his hand tightened, seemingly in response to that meandering thought, at least from his perspective… but he knew better.

Briana had explained that there'd been debate over whether or not Baros would be permitted a place here for all his crimes, or if his remains would be sent back to Corellia like some kind of macabre care package for his parents. To everyone's surprise, and the siblings' relief, it'd been her aunt Alora, a dear friend of Vizion's own mother, who'd advocated for keeping her parents together.

Even in death, her parents had been found in each other's embrace, unable to let go of one another. Whatever disagreements existed among the living no longer mattered beside that simple fact. So they'd been laid to rest, forever side by side in the afterlife. At the time, learning of it, Vizion had reserved the thoughts that imagery inspired. For all he'd known and come to know of her parents, that one thing stuck with him, most of all.

Briana's gaze lingered on the carved faces of her parents, hardly wavering; he was keen to the knot of what she must be feeling in those moments, attuned to her as he'd become, and a thumb traced back and forth over a tight knuckle of her grip. He put her up to this, and he wasn't going anywhere.

"This is the first time that I've ever seen their statues," she confessed, drawing his gaze to her when she finally spoke. She dabbed at the corners of her eyes as she kept going. "I commissioned the artisans, the sculptors… but never actually made it here to see their work."

That was a hesitance only complicated loss could provoke, healing delayed by others being dismissive or ignorant of her pain, but she was here now. The when hardly mattered. The death grip on his hand released as she walked over, resting the bouquet of flowers they'd brought with them at the foot of each tomb. Wordlessly, he flexed his hand, while his eyes followed her and remained there.

She needed to do this, needed to get this out, and sit with her feelings.