Relationship Status: It's Complicated
WEAPONS: Ferrum Solus | Blodmåne | Strømafbryder
SHIP: Vigfjall
TAG:
Darth Carnifex
The forests of Stewjon had never truly left him.
They lived in memory, in instinct, and in the quiet moments stolen from a life that no longer afforded such luxuries. Before there had been councils, campaigns, and the weight of an Order upon his shoulders, there had been towering pines, rushing streams, and the rhythm of paws against damp earth. Those memories had followed Gerwald to every battlefield and every world he had claimed until, at last, he carved out a place where they could breathe once more.
Hidden within the heart of the Obsidian Spire, beyond layers of black stone and polished durasteel, lay a preserve few outside his family had ever seen. Beneath a vast transparisteel dome rose a forest transplanted from Stewjon itself. Ancient pines stretched toward an artificial sky while clear streams wound through moss-covered stone before disappearing beneath exposed roots. The air carried the scent of rain, pine, and rich earth instead of machinery and ozone. Wolves roamed the woodland freely, disappearing into the undergrowth as they pleased. They were not caged or trained. They simply belonged.
So did he.
A gray wolf moved effortlessly through the preserve, weaving between trunks with the confidence of a creature that knew every trail by heart. The others acknowledged his passing with little more than a glance before continuing their own pursuits. There was no challenge to issue and no dominance to establish. The pack already knew its own.
Gerwald lingered beside the stream before the familiar pull of the Force gave way to flesh once more. Fur receded into skin as the wolf became the man. He stood in silence for a moment, drawing in the cool air. Here, the burdens of a Dark Councilor felt distant, if only for a little while.
The soft hum of servomotors drifted through the trees.
An attendant droid emerged from the trail, its polished black chassis reflecting shafts of filtered sunlight that broke through the canopy above. It paused several paces away.
"My lord, your guest has arrived."
Golden eyes lifted from the stream.
"Bring him here."
The droid inclined its head in acknowledgment before turning and disappearing back along the trail. Silence settled over the preserve once more.
Gerwald rested a hand against the rough bark of a towering pine. The forest had grown alongside the Spire, season after season, while the Sith Order itself continued to change. Empires rose. Councils shifted. Wars came and went. Nature cared little for any of it. Here there were no titles to hide behind and no positions to preserve. Only strength, resolve, and the will to endure.
It was a lesson the Sith had once understood.
Perhaps they would again.
The sound of measured footsteps eventually carried through the preserve. Gerwald turned from the stream as the familiar presence entered the woodland. It had been years since they had last stood alone together. The Malsheem had settled questions that neither man needed to revisit, and the years since had only reinforced the respect earned there.
A faint smile touched the corner of his mouth.
"Welcome to the one place in the Spire that still feels like home."
His gaze drifted briefly toward the wolves moving through the trees.
"The rest of this fortress was built for the Order."
He looked back to his guest.
"This was built for the wolf."
Gerwald stepped onto the narrow trail that disappeared beneath the pines, leaving the invitation to stand on its own.
"Walk with me."