S U R ' A R
DA'LEPAR VALLEY, KESTRI
Kestri is as cold as ever, there’s zero doubt about it. Yael Kandar, wrapped in her mighty Dark Blue Beskar’gam, walked through the snow, dragging her feet through the white sheets, revealing the dark brown soil of the frozen planet. The daughter of Kestri doesn’t know what to think, doesn’t know how to feel. Her pristine new armor might hide the bruises of the past; those Kestri inflicted on her, and those she left on mother Kestri. Strangers saw her with awe and admiration. Yet Yael of all people knows that those are just facade, and that a certain ghost from the past can see past the perfect costume.
We can maybe meet at that stream again, Gailen had said.
And she held that promise like he had held her under the moonlight.
So here Yael is, staring at the mouth of the riverbank, underneath the silver light that illuminates the otherwise dark landscape, waiting for the man she once shared the world with. The man world’s she crushed under the guise of self-preservation. In the very place where they once found, and later devoured, their love, amidst a galaxy that waged war against their very existence.
Oh how ironic it would be if they could find themselves back in square one.
We can maybe meet at that stream again, Gailen had said.
And she held that promise like he had held her under the moonlight.
So here Yael is, staring at the mouth of the riverbank, underneath the silver light that illuminates the otherwise dark landscape, waiting for the man she once shared the world with. The man world’s she crushed under the guise of self-preservation. In the very place where they once found, and later devoured, their love, amidst a galaxy that waged war against their very existence.
Oh how ironic it would be if they could find themselves back in square one.