Darth Daiara
Metamorphosis

War was everything she had feared and yet nothing had left her prepared. For her, Bastion had not been a war. It had not been not a battle. She had experienced an attack- an occupation. She had not witnessed the horde, nor had countless die at her side. Her failure at Bastion had been marked by a dance with death so sudden, she had not been there face the fall out.
She felt Dantooine in her bones.
Her return to Dromund Kaas was understated. No stolen ships, no dead jedi in cargo holds. No lethal wounds and newfound powers. Just a shuttle and her own two feet crunching over the family lawn. It was a quiet day, but she felt the weight of what she had seen inside every breath. The galaxy kept moving while her mind slowed down. Life waited for no one.
Death came without bias.
She wasn't allowed inside the family home, but she knocked twice anyways, hoping to catch her Master before her children awoke. It was early. Aradia's shoes squished with morning dew. She smelled of smoke and looked of battle. She hadn't even combed out her hair. How unlike her.
Master? She prompted, wearily skimming for life beyond the curtains.
There were things she needed to say.

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