Private Among the Trees of Paradise

[Lars Tursen]

“You."
​

It was a simple, one-word response to Eryndel’s open ended question. Yet by speaking that single word, Lars felt his destiny shift along with her own. It was not by accident that the two had found each other on Okarthell.

“The Tree told me that you are in your heart a voyager.” continued Lars. “You seek new experiences, including those that may be found outside Okarthell. Distant planets fascinate you."

“Yet at the same time, you truly love Okarthell and its people. After all, it was them who nurtured you and gave you direction. Your connection to the World Tree is strong even amongst your people. The Living Force flows not just through you, but within you."

“Yet that also means that the Force will remain strong within you even if you travel from Okarthell. You, Eryndel, are truly gifted amongst your people. The World Tree has sensed that within you, and so have powers even greater than those found on Okarthell."

“As you have offered me before, I will offer you with a choice.” began Lars. “Either answer is equally valid."

“You can stay on Okarthell under the protection of the World Tree and your people. There, you can live a long and happy life under familiar traditions, one I will protect from afar."

“Or join me in exploring the wonderful mysteries of the galaxy. There is much to be discovered, and much to be saved. I will teach you all that I know, and we will learn from others just as we have learned from each other."

He spoke in a calm, patient tone, giving no weight to either choice above the other. That would be for Eryndel to decide.

“You do not need to decide right now, or even today. You can take all the time you wish. Just understand, Eryndel, that we have both arrived at a turning point. Neither I nor the forest will judge you for your choice."

Eryndel

 

[Eryndel]

Eryndel did not answer him at once.

When he spoke her name, when he named her so simply and so completely, something deep within her shifted. Not violently. Not dramatically. It was like a root loosening from stone after years of quiet pressure, realizing that it could grow in more than one direction.

She turned her gaze away from him for a moment, toward the immense trunk of the World Tree rising into mist and light. Her hand lifted and rested against its bark, fingers splayed, seeking not guidance in words, but resonance in feeling.

The Living Force answered.

Not with command.

With memory.

She felt herself as a hatchling, clinging to low branches and laughing when she fell. She felt the voices of elders teaching her to listen before she leapt, to breathe before she acted. She felt storms endured, losses mourned, joys shared beneath woven canopies of leaves and stars.

Then she felt other things.

Skies she had never seen. Winds that did not smell of rain and moss. Worlds that pulsed differently, calling to the part of her that had always wondered what lay beyond the horizon. The quiet restlessness she had carried since youth stirred again, no longer hidden, no longer denied.

Eryndel exhaled slowly.

When she turned back to Lars, her emerald eyes were clear, steady, and thoughtful.

"You listened well," she said softly. "To the Tree. To me. To what moves beneath words."

She stepped closer, not in haste, but with intention. "Everything you said is true. I belong here. Okarthell shaped me. My people are my roots. The Tree is my first teacher."

Her fingers curled slightly, as though feeling invisible threads between herself and the forest. "But I have also always felt… wider than this place. As if part of me was meant to carry what I have learned beyond these leaves."

A faint, almost shy smile touched her lips. "I have wondered if that was selfish. Or ungrateful. Or simply imagination."

She looked at him fully now. "The Tree did not quiet that feeling tonight. It acknowledged it."

There was no fear in her voice. Only honesty.

"You have offered me a choice without pressure," Eryndel continued. "That is rare. And it honors both paths."

She lowered her hand from the bark and clasped it lightly in front of her. "I will not decide tonight. This is not something to answer with haste, even when the heart is stirred."

Her gaze softened. "I would like to sleep on it. To listen again in dreams. To speak with my people. To let the Tree breathe through me once more before I choose."

After a brief pause, she added gently, "You are welcome to stay with me while I do. Beneath the Grove. Among my kin. As a guest, and as a friend."

The forest seemed to murmur approval, leaves whispering in layered harmony.

Eryndel inclined her head slightly, a gesture of shared respect.

"Whatever I decide," she said quietly, "I will decide it with open eyes. And I will not walk it alone."

Lars Tursen

 

[Lars Tursen]

It was understandable that Eryndel needed some time to deliberate.
​

As much as an immediate answer would satisfy him, her circumstances were entirely different from his own when he had been offered the same choice. Lars had been raised away from Dorin for years under the caring guidance of the Jedi, while Eryndel had never once known a life outside Okarthell. He knew firsthand that leaving one’s homeworld for the first time was no easy feat.

So Lars settled down the part of him that sought immediate answers, allowing Eryndel to set the pace. He would respect her privacy and give her the time she needed while remaining present to allow her to communicate her decision. Perhaps it would also be a good excuse for Lars to practice his Force meditation. Okarthell’s tranquil forest and its natural connection to the Living Force gave him plenty of options for where and how to reach out. It would help too to keep him in touch with the broader galaxy while he stayed on Okarthell. For that he also had an ordinary radio and beacon, both stowed away on the pouches attached to his belt.

Therefore, when Eryndel offered Lars to stay with her beneath the Grove with her kin, Lars did not hesitate to respond in the affirmative.

“It is an honor to reside among your kin.” replied Lars. “I will follow you to the Grove and stay as long as you allow me."

“I will also add that your desire to explore is not selfish, nor is it ungrateful. Every word and gesture you have given me shows nothing but how grateful you are for your forest home. Even if you leave Okarthell one day, the World Tree will always welcome you back. What you seek is the opposite of selfishness. The galaxy is full of those who have suffered from war, curses, famine, and disease. By using your teachings to help them, you will be saving thousands of innocent lives."

“The galaxy is also full of great experiences and teachers. I am only one of many Jedi Consulars, and there are also those that are not Jedi whom I have learned valuable lessons from, whom I do not doubt you will also learn from. The pursuit of knowledge benefits not only the student, but all who may encounter them and gain from what they have learned."

Eryndel

 

[Eryndel]

Eryndel listened to him without interruption, her full attention resting on his words the same way it so often rested on the slow rhythms of wind and root and river. She did not look away. She did not fidget. She did not hurry him. Instead, she received everything he said with the quiet seriousness of someone who understood that words, when offered sincerely, were a kind of gift.

When he finished, there was a brief pause. Not an awkward one. A thoughtful one.

She let his meaning settle, turning it over gently in her mind, feeling where it resonated with what the Tree had whispered to her all her life and where it brushed against places she had only recently begun to question.

Then she smiled. It was not a wide or dramatic smile, but a soft, luminous one, the kind that came from being seen and understood without being judged.

"You speak with great care," she said quietly. "Not only for the Force… but for people."

She stepped a little closer, close enough that the faint warmth of her presence could be felt, close enough that he was no longer simply a visitor standing before her, but a guest being welcomed.

"My home is not only branches and roots," she continued. "It is voices at dusk. It is shared meals. It is laughter carried on the wind. It is stories told beside firelight. If you stay with us, you will be part of all of that."

Her gaze lifted briefly toward the distant canopy, where shafts of light filtered through endless leaves. "The Grove will know you," she said. "It already does, I think. You walk gently. You listen. That matters more than most visitors realize."

She looked back at him, emerald eyes steady and sincere.

"You are welcome here, Lars. Not as a scholar observing from the outside, and not as a guest who must be careful not to stay too long…" Her voice softened. "But as someone who shares our days for as long as he wishes."

She considered his words about selfishness, about suffering, about helping others, and when she spoke again, there was quiet emotion beneath her calm. "When you speak of the galaxy's wounds," she said, "I feel them, even from here. Sometimes they reach this forest in dreams. Sometimes the Tree whispers of distant pain carried on currents too subtle for most to notice."

Her fingers brushed lightly against the bark of a nearby trunk.

"If my path leads me beyond Okarthell one day," she admitted, "it will be because I wish to ease some of that pain… not because I wish to escape this place." A faint, almost shy laugh followed. "And because I am curious," she added. "I think I always have been."

She met his eyes again, gratitude clear in her expression. "Thank you for trusting me with your faith," she said softly. "And for reminding me that leaving does not mean forgetting."

Then, gently, warmly: "Come. The Grove is not far from here. My kin will be curious about you." A pause. "And they will probably ask many questions," she added with quiet amusement. "More than even you are used to." Her smile deepened. "I hope you are ready."

Lars Tursen

 

[Lars Tursen]

Again, Lars noted Eryndel’s love for Okarthell.
​

The way she vividly described her way of life and her eagerness for him to meet with her kind almost made him want to lengthen his trip to the planet into a months-long excursion. It would be far too easy to lose himself in the vastness of the primal, almost entirely uncharted forest, discovering entirely unheard of ways of life. However, Lars reminded himself, he still had a duty to uphold. As important as Okarthell was in understanding the living Force, there were hundreds if not thousands of other worlds that deserved the attention of the Jedi. Soon, Lars’ mandate would be up, and he would have to return to the Temple in Naboo to receive his next assignment from the Council.

For now though, Lars would allow himself to be immersed in the moment.

“Do not think of leaving Okarthell as an escape.” reassured Lars. “You have clearly shown me that this world is not a cage for you. Quite the opposite, in fact. It is clear that you truly love your homeworld."

Reflecting on how Eryndel confessed her curiosity, Lars stared back at her, nothing but understanding in his eyes.

“In our curiosity, you and I are alike.” he continued. “I believe it is a good thing that you are curious. The more curious you are, the more you will want to learn, and the more you will gain from your studies."

At Eryndel’s final invitation, Lars let out a light chuckle, a deep but gentle noise.

“I imagine it will certainly be a different experience from the young students I usually teach.” remarked Lars. “I will do my best to live up to the expectations of your kin."

“I am ready."

Eryndel

 

[Eryndel]

Several days passed before Eryndel answered him.

They were not empty days.

They were filled with quiet conversations beneath wide canopies, with long walks along winding roots and hidden streams, and with moments where she sat in stillness against ancient bark and listened to the slow, patient voice of the World Tree. She spoke with elders who remembered stories older than living memory. She laughed with children who climbed her horns as if they were branches. She shared meals, songs, and soft twilight prayers with her kin, letting their warmth and familiarity remind her of everything she chose to carry with her rather than leave behind.

Lars was not left apart from this life.

He was welcomed among them, invited to sit on woven mats, offered simple meals, and taught the meanings behind small rituals and quiet gestures. Curious hatchlings followed him through clearings, asking questions in half-whispered Kiir and broken Basic. Elders observed him with thoughtful eyes, then nodded their approval when they sensed his patience and respect. More than once, he was guided to sacred pools or listening circles, where the forest itself seemed to test his presence and find no cause for alarm.

And through it all, Eryndel listened.

She listened to her people as they shared memories and quiet concerns. She listened to the forest as it whispered through roots and drifting light. And, perhaps most difficult of all, she listened to herself, to the questions she had carried silently for longer than she had ever admitted.

On the fourth evening, as amber light filtered through towering leaves and fireflies gathered like drifting stars between the branches, she found Lars, sitting in quiet meditation near the Grove.

She approached without sound and lowered herself beside him, folding her legs neatly beneath her. For a long while, she said nothing at all, simply letting the rhythm of his breathing and the slow pulse of the forest settle around them both.

Then, softly, she spoke.

"I have spoken with the Tree," she said. "Many times. In many ways."

Her fingers brushed the bark beneath her palm, grounding herself in its familiar texture, as though drawing strength from something older and steadier than her own doubts.

"And I have spoken with my kin," she continued. "With those who raised me. With those who remember when I first learned to walk the roots without falling."

A small, fond smile touched her lips.

"They were not surprised."

She turned to face him fully then, her emerald eyes calm and clear, reflecting both certainty and vulnerability.

"They have always known that I listen too far," she admitted gently. "That I hear echoes beyond the forest. That my questions do not end at the edge of the canopy."

She drew in a slow breath before continuing.

"For a long time, I believed that meant I was ungrateful," she said quietly. "That wanting more meant loving this place less. That curiosity was a kind of betrayal."

Her gaze lifted briefly toward the vast crown of leaves above them, where starlight and fireflies mingled like distant constellations.

"But the Tree showed me something different."

Reaching into the small satchel at her side, she carefully withdrew a slender bundle wrapped in woven fibers. With deliberate reverence, she loosened the ties and opened it.

Inside rested several living cuttings: pale green shoots threaded with faint luminescence, their delicate roots still wrapped in rich, dark soil that pulsed softly with the Living Force. Seeds and saplings taken only from sacred branches were entrusted to her with quiet ceremony.

Fragments of home.

"The Tree does not bind us," she said softly. "It teaches us how to carry ourselves wherever we go."

Her eyes lifted to meet his.

"I will go with you, Lars."

The words were simple, yet they carried the weight of many nights of reflection, of whispered prayers and unanswered questions, finally finding their shape.

"I will walk beyond Okarthell. I will learn. I will listen. I will help where I can."

She lifted the small bundle slightly between them.

"And I will take this with me," she added. "Not as a relic. Not as a charm. But as a promise."

A promise to remember. A promise to remain rooted. A promise to return.

"So wherever I stand," she continued, her voice steady now, strengthened by quiet resolve, "a part of this world will stand with me."

A quiet warmth entered her expression, something both peaceful and brave, born not of impulse but of careful reflection and deep-rooted certainty.

"My home is not a place I abandon," she said gently. "It is something I carry forward, in my choices, in my words, and in the way I touch the Force and the lives around me, wherever I may walk."

Then, with sincere openness and unguarded trust, she inclined her head slightly toward him.

"If you will still have me as your student," she continued, "and as your companion on this path of learning and service, then I am ready to walk beside you, to stumble when I must, to grow when I can, and to listen when the galaxy teaches lessons I do not yet understand."

Her gaze did not waver.

"I do not seek to escape this world," Eryndel finished softly, her words woven with devotion and resolve. "I choose to go because of what this world has made me, because of what it has taught me, and because carrying its spirit with me is the truest way I know to honor it."

"And wherever I travel," she added quietly, "Okarthell will walk with me."

Lars Tursen

 

[Lars Tursen]

Several deeply insightful days had passed.
​

Eryndel’s kin - the Kiir, as they called themselves - had even more questions than she had led Lars to expect. He answered as many as he could, gaining some energy the passion for life that the Kiir younglings seemed to share with the Kel Dor Consular. Still, he was relieved to be called away by wayfinders and elders for excursions through the forest. On these journeys the roles of Lars and the Kiir were swapped, the Kel Dor experiencing the wonders of Okarthell’s forest for the first time.

As it turned out, it was not only the World Tree that was a nexus for the Force. Ancient ponds, rock formations, and smaller but no less magnificent plants all carried some of the purest concentrations of the Living Force Lars had ever encountered, all neither stained red nor blue. When he meditated amidst the smaller nexuses, he practiced the breathing and posture of the Kiir, careful not to disturb the natural equilibrium of life on Okarthell.

As he had sat, many visions had appeared before him. In some Lars was shown immense, dragon-like beasts, while in others a wise and clever beast stared back at him with ancient knowledge through the shadows of night. Many were centered around the World Tree, whose roots he felt run through nearly the entire planet. Only near long-buried ancient ruins did the tree flinch, not wanting to draw attention to creations it sought to keep buried. Lars pledged to respect the tree’s intentions, storing the information away in a secure corner of his mind where few would search.

He enjoyed surprisingly delicious fruits and soups of all shapes and sizes, partaking willingly in the customs of the Kiir. Accepted amongst their ranks, Lars took note of their native language, and with their permission, began to convert simple words into Basic. A meaningful translation would be a worthy project, allowing the wider galaxy to understand the unique Kiir way of life and learn from their egalitarian traditions.

All the while, Lars mingled with Kiir of all ages and sizes, Eryndel central amongst them. Though she held no formal leadership position, her kin respected her greatly. Eryndel returned the favor without hesitation, tenderly caring for the young and aiding her seniors in their daily tasks. Though each Kiir shone in their own way, Eryndel practically radiated with spirit, kindness, patience, and determination. She reminded Lars of the ancient Jedi Master Yoda, and the thought only heightened his expectations of the bright young Kiir.

It was shortly after those thoughts had passed through his head that Eryndel approached Lars.

He immediately felt that what she said next would be very, very important. The sensation filled his brain, smothering every other thought and feeling except for the sight and sound of Eryndel’s approach. The World Tree itself seemed to command his focus be entirely on the Kiir woman, his body naturally shifting to face her fully in anticipation of what would come next. Then, she spoke.

Lars listened patiently, hearing Eryndel’s story without interruption or questioning. The image that came to mind, as vivid as if it were physically right in front of him, was of a dormant plant emerging from hibernation to reveal a beautiful crimson flower. He was proud to see Eryndel finally recognize the importance of her own interests, to recognize that following the path she truly desired in life would be betraying neither herself nor those who had raised her to make her own choices. When she revealed the saplings inside her bag, Lars immediately understood their importance to her. It would be a memento to her homeworld, no matter where she went.

"I will go with you, Lars."

The moment she spoke those six fateful words, something in Lars transformed.

He had always seen the Force inside him in the image of a vast tree, its trunk the core of the living Force inside him, its branches an extension of Lars’ thoughts through which his abilities were projected, and its roots a wellspring of potential. One branch began to twist, gently removing itself from the trunk as if it were simply being unscrewed. It hovered in midair before floating away from the tree, making passage between Lars and Eryndel before entering the woman as an offering freely given.

He felt the moment the new connection happened. The air seemed to go still, even the wind in the trees quieting down. Lars became acutely aware of Eryndel’s presence, and in that moment he realized that the two would be able to find each other even if entire systems separated them.

“I will gladly have you as my student.” began Lars. “I am proud of you for recognizing and choosing the path that you think will take you farthest in life. I also understand your concerns about being selfish. Rest assured, if your kin did not support your interest in lands beyond Okarthell, they would have not given you the freedom to make the choice yourself. They will all love and support you no matter what decision you make, both now and far in the future.”

“We will start slow, so that you may better understand the scale of the galaxy and be informed of what I plan to teach you. If at any point you wish to return to Okarthell, I promise on my honor as a Jedi to respect that wish. If you continue to want to stay with me, we will travel the galaxy together as explorers, researchers, defenders, and givers of aid."

“In any case,” concluded Lars. “I advise we rest the night before we make the long trek back to the shuttle. For now, take the moment to feast and enjoy the presence of your family and friends. I will follow you shortly."

Eryndel