K I N G
KALEVALA, MANDALORIAN SPACE
It had been far too long since Aether had allowed himself the space to connect with his sister. Aselia had been given the immense charge of guiding the Warhost of the Great Heathen Army, and she bore that mantle with the same fire that had carried their people through storms and sieges. In recent months, however, their paths had seldom crossed outside the company of warriors or the press of council halls. The life of Mand’alor was seldom forgiving, and the life of the one who carried his banner upon the field was no less consuming.
Each dawn brought with it another summons, another demand for their attention, another piece of the galaxy unraveling into conflict. Diarchy aggression continued to gnaw at their borders while elsewhere the chaos of a thousand old wounds, festering since the Planeshift, spread in unpredictable fashion. There was no corner of the stars that seemed immune, and both brother and sister had been pulled in directions that left little room for anything beyond survival and duty. He knew well enough that a day was fast approaching when peace would be nothing more than a memory to be spoken of around the fire, scarce and fleeting.
It was for that reason he had sent word to her, not with command but with invitation, and had chosen Kalevala as their meeting ground. The verdant world offered them a reprieve from steel and ash, and the coordinates he shared guided her to a monumental lake untouched by the hand of man. Its waters lay vast and still, reflecting the breadth of the sky in quiet defiance of the galaxy’s turmoil. The only mark of habitation was a modest cabin built upon the bank, weathered but steady, with a pair of rough hewn fishing boats drawn upon the shore as though waiting for their next voyage.
Aether sat beside one of those vessels, helm laid to rest upon the grass. The lake stretched before him in endless calm, but his mind was not upon the horizon. He had come to this place not for solitude but for kinship, and his gaze lingered upon the path that wound through the trees, listening for the familiar cadence of Aselia’s approach. When she arrived, it would not be as commander and Mand’alor, nor as generals plotting the next campaign, but simply as brother and sister, reunited upon the edge of a quiet world.
Each dawn brought with it another summons, another demand for their attention, another piece of the galaxy unraveling into conflict. Diarchy aggression continued to gnaw at their borders while elsewhere the chaos of a thousand old wounds, festering since the Planeshift, spread in unpredictable fashion. There was no corner of the stars that seemed immune, and both brother and sister had been pulled in directions that left little room for anything beyond survival and duty. He knew well enough that a day was fast approaching when peace would be nothing more than a memory to be spoken of around the fire, scarce and fleeting.
It was for that reason he had sent word to her, not with command but with invitation, and had chosen Kalevala as their meeting ground. The verdant world offered them a reprieve from steel and ash, and the coordinates he shared guided her to a monumental lake untouched by the hand of man. Its waters lay vast and still, reflecting the breadth of the sky in quiet defiance of the galaxy’s turmoil. The only mark of habitation was a modest cabin built upon the bank, weathered but steady, with a pair of rough hewn fishing boats drawn upon the shore as though waiting for their next voyage.
Aether sat beside one of those vessels, helm laid to rest upon the grass. The lake stretched before him in endless calm, but his mind was not upon the horizon. He had come to this place not for solitude but for kinship, and his gaze lingered upon the path that wound through the trees, listening for the familiar cadence of Aselia’s approach. When she arrived, it would not be as commander and Mand’alor, nor as generals plotting the next campaign, but simply as brother and sister, reunited upon the edge of a quiet world.
