Character
The Force whispers, but not always in words.
Dantooine - Late Afternoon
Near old stone outcroppings where the grass grows undisturbed and wind whispers like memory
Dantooine didn't have the hum and bustle of Coruscant nor the frigid environment of Arkania. It stood in stark contrast with is gold-crested hills and plains stretching as far the naked eye could see. The Force was quiet in this place, not silent, but almost as though it was waiting and watching. There was some deep part of him that even felt the peace that the planet radiated - he enjoyed the feeling.
Untrained and raw as he was in the ways of the Force, the calm of this world soaked into him all the same. The constant tension in his shoulders began to ease. The battle-honed alertness he'd carried since childhood dimmed slightly, like a fire stoked too long finally starting to rest.
Kallan stood near the edge of a low hill, boots half-sunken in warm soil. His armorweave cloak rippled in the breeze as it wrapped around him like something familiar. The wind tousled his dark hair and whispered soft notes into his ears, a lullaby in a language only the spirit understood.
There was power here. Not the explosive kind, not the kind carried on sabers or thunderous speeches, but something older. Quieter. It had soaked into the bones of the planet through centuries of conflict and quiet alike. Jedi ruins. Rebellions. Losses. Legacies. The Force had walked here, but it had not walked alone.
That was bound to leave its mark.
He stood still in it, letting the silence wrap around him like armor.
Then it shifted, barely, but undeniably. The peace began to lessen.
Another had come.
No weapon hung at his side, not that it mattered. He wouldn't have reached for one even if it had. His mind was already made up.
Another person. Another philosophy. Another stranger who thought they knew the Force.
He'd heard it all before. Jedi with their high-minded clarity. Sith with their ironclad convictions. Even the Jensaarai, with their quiet balance and guarded truths. He'd once considered visiting their rumored stronghold, but the galaxy had other plans and brought him here instead.
Closing his eyes, Kallan exhaled slowly. The wind caught the breath and carried it, just as his awareness slipped outward, beyond the limits of skin and bone. His presence flowed into the grass, the wind, the soil. It added a charge to the air—not confrontational, but undeniable.
A warning in the calm.
He was here.
Dantooine |
Diarch Rellik
Diarch Rellik