Private The Old Blood

[Mykel Dawson]

The canopy of the titanic World Tree dominated the gunship's viewports as Mykel made planetfall, each of its branches stretching kilometers. He could only recall the great Wroshyr trees of Kashyyyk approaching such heights. However, it wasn't just impressive in its physical stature, but also in its immense concentrations of lifeforce creating a vergence in the Force. He could see why the World Tree and Orkathell as a whole had garnered the interest of the Jedi for study.

However, that wasn't why he had come. A university research team had gone missing, and the rescue party right along with it. Now the issue had escalated and he had been in the area when the distress call was made.

He weaved carefully through branches toward the base of the tree, where the base camp for the Cyrillian University research team had been set up. On his way down, bioscanners picked up on clusters of sentient communities - the Kiir. Reviewing previous records of contact, there were rudiments of civilization but little more than semi-nomadic tribes. Surveys had hinted at a much more advanced society in the ancient past, said tribes its last embers of existence.

Whatever their current state, he hoped the Kiir he would meet be kind.

___________________________________________________________________
Eryndel​

 

[Eryndel]

Eryndel felt the gunship long before it broke through the upper canopy.

The World Tree answered its descent with a slow, measured awareness. Branches shifted not to bar its path, but to observe it, leaves whispering as the craft threaded carefully downward. The Living Force stirred in widening rings, not alarmed, but attentive.

At the edge of the old research camp, where weathered equipment sat half-reclaimed by moss and root, Eryndel waited.

She did not hide herself.

When the stranger stepped down from the gunship, the air around him was warm and heavy with green life, the vast trunk of the World Tree rising beyond sight behind her like the spine of the world. She stood barefoot on the loam, cloak subdued in earth tones, horns catching broken light filtering through the leaves. Her tail rested loosely behind her, still, grounded.

Her emerald eyes studied him with quiet thoroughness. Not suspicion. Assessment.

"You came with care," Eryndel said, her voice calm and steady, carrying easily through the clearing without need to raise it. "The Tree felt that."

She inclined her head slightly, a gesture of acknowledgment rather than deference. "You stand beneath the World Tree of Okarthell. Few outsiders are permitted to land so close, and fewer still without resistance."

Her gaze shifted briefly to the remnants of the research camp, to the subtle disturbance in the Living Force clinging to it like an afterimage. "The ones you seek passed through here," she continued. "They did not vanish by chance. Something drew them deeper than they were prepared to follow."

Turning back to him fully, she met his eyes again. "I am Eryndel of the Emerald Grove. I walk as a listener for this land and for my people."

A measured pause followed.

"The Kiir are not hostile to those who arrive in respect," she said gently. "But Okarthell does not answer urgency without understanding."

She stepped aside, opening the path that wound away from the camp and into the deeper roots beyond.

"If you have come to search for the lost, you will not need to walk alone," Eryndel added. "But you will need patience. This forest remembers every step taken upon it."

Her gaze returned to him, steady and expectant.

"Tell me," she said quietly, "who are you — and what do you seek beneath the World Tree?"

The forest hushed, listening with her.

Mykel Dawson

 

[Mykel Dawson]

Robes

Mykel left Hecate in charge of the gunship while he disembarked to meet with the remnants of the University team. As soon as the ramp door opened, he was blasted with a shot of warm humid air, carrying all the earthy and damp notes of the jungle. For a for a moments he felt like he was back on Kashyyyk.

In was then he noticed how the World Tree wasn't just sentient, but aware of his presence specifically. Not hostility or caution, just a gentle acknowledgement as it subtly arrayed itself in hospitality.

The Jedi hadn't only gained the attention of the tree. A single woman approached him as he stood at the base of the off-ramp, presumably one of the native Kiir. She closely resembled a human woman, a pretty one at that, but her horns, ears, and glittering emerald eyes and inset jewel set her apart from the baseline. Like him, she radiated strongly in the Force with a positively mellow aura.

As he correctly suspected, she would go on to introduce herself as Eryndel, representing both the interests of her people and World Tree.

He bowed respectfully in kind, taking a mental note of how she appeared to revere the trees and general nature of the planet.

"I am Jedi Knight Mykel Dawson of the New Jedi Order," he answered with a small smile. "And I'm here answering a distress call. From what was stated in the message, a University group from the neighboring world of Cyrillia lost contact with a research team who were exploring some cave system about seven cycles ago. A search party led by local guides attempted to track them down, but went MIA after missing a check-in three cycles ago. Now I'm here to follow up on both teams."

His expression became sober, smile slipping. "Given these sorts of cases, especially in an environment with such dangerous predators present, I've already come accepting that we may not find any survivors, but at least we may discover answers to prevent further tragedies. I appreciate any support you are willing to provide, Miss Eryndel."

___________________________________________________________________

Eryndel​

 

[Eryndel]

Eryndel listened without interrupting, her attention resting fully on him as the jungle itself seemed to quiet, leaves stilling as if to hear his words more clearly. When he finished, she inclined her head in acknowledgment, not quite a bow, but a gesture of respect shaped by her own customs.

"Your caution is wise," she said softly. "Okarthell is generous, but it is not gentle. Those who enter its depths without understanding sometimes mistake welcome for safety."

Her gaze drifted briefly toward the forest beyond the camp, where the undergrowth thickened and the light dimmed beneath the vast reach of the World Tree. There was no fear in her expression, only contemplation. "It is possible the wilds claimed them," she continued. "Not out of malice, but necessity. Predators hunt. Storms shift paths. The ground itself can open where it once held firm. The jungle remembers all of this, even when we do not."

She looked back at Mykel, emerald eyes steady. "But it is also possible they were guided somewhere they did not intend to go. This world has a way of drawing the curious deeper than they expect."

Eryndel stepped closer to one of the great roots curling near the camp, resting her palm lightly against its bark. The Living Force stirred at the contact, a slow, resonant pulse that spread outward like a breath. "I can ask the Tree what it knows," she said. "It does not always answer directly, but it remembers movement, fear, disruption. If the land was wounded, it would know. If lives were lost, it would have felt the change."

She withdrew her hand and turned back to him. "We can search together, if you wish. I will not promise answers, but I will not turn away from those who seek them with respect."

A brief pause followed, then a quiet addition. "If the forest has taken them, it will show us where. And if it has not, then we will find the path they walked and learn why they did not return."

The jungle seemed to breathe again around them, warm and watchful, as Eryndel waited for his answer, ready to walk into the wilds at his side.

Mykel Dawson

 

[Mykel Dawson]

Robes

"Oh thank the heavens, a Jedi!" a male voice called out. A tall blue Reptilian man - a Cyrillian - strode toward the group waving his arms frantically, trailed by a small troop of mono-eyed droids. He was dressed in flowing cream linen robes that billowed around him with each long stride, a thick scaled tailed swaying gently from under the hem.

Mykel gaze turned from Eryndel to the Cyrillian. "Professor Wren?"

The Cyrillian stopped right beside Eryndel, towering over the petite woman and even making Mykel look short. Though he slouched slightly, carrying himself with the pensive energy of an academic. His troop of droids began to circle all three of them, whistling softly in investigation, their attention mostly on Mykel as the newcomer. A couple more broke off from the main group to examine the landing struts of his ship.

"Correct, Master Jedi," Wren confirmed with a clap. "My thanks for your speedy arrival - time is of the essence." He looked between both Mykel and Eyrndel with large orange globes for eyes.

Mykel nodded, "fill me in on the details."

___________________________________________________________________​

The interview with Professor Wren and his small mixed group of faculty and students was short but informative, the Cyrillian transparent and more than willing to offer detailed logs. The University group had originally arrived to Okarthell to research the unique formation of the World Tree straight down to the root system, which led them to stumbling over a previously unknown cave system. In one of their last transmissions, the leader of the research team showed off half buried obsidian structures with alien hieroglyphics.

Wren compared these findings to the designs from temple ruins on the planet's surface, the only advanced standing structure across the entirety of Okarthell.

When he saw the obsidian structures and the temple, he felt a quick chill. Something was certainly unusual here.

The search party made it to a similar point in the cave before also disappearing, putting out constant transmissions as they did. There were several, so he pushed them to his AI Hecate for analysis.

As the interview came to a close, he thanked the Professor and the group, then broke off with Eryndel back outside the University tent, now following up with her individually.

"I felt a disturbance as Professor Wren showed the first video," he informed her. "Something of malicious intent. I certainly haven't ruled out the predators angle yet, but do you know of any hostile groups or entities operating in that area?"

___________________________________________________________________

Eryndel​

 

[Eryndel]

Eryndel had remained quiet throughout the exchange with Professor Wren, her presence steady at the edge of the conversation rather than its center. She had watched the Cyrillian closely, not with suspicion, but with the careful attention one gives to a guest who does not yet understand where they are standing. The droids circling nearby drew only a brief glance from her, her focus instead lingering on the fragments of imagery and meaning described in the logs.

When Mykel spoke to her privately, she did not answer at once.

Her gaze drifted past the tent, toward the deep forest where the World Tree's roots disappeared into shadow. The jungle seemed unchanged, but to her senses, the Living Force there was taut, like a stretched vine.

"Yes," she said finally, her voice low and thoughtful. "What you felt was real."

She turned back to him, emerald eyes steady. "There are no tribes of my people in that region, and no living Kiir would build in obsidian or carve stone to endure. That kind of work belongs to an older time. One we do not speak of lightly."

Eryndel folded her hands together, grounding herself. "Long before the forests reclaimed Okarthell, there were others here. Not predators, not spirits, but builders. They sought to shape the Living Force rather than listen to it. Their structures still remain in places where the roots have not yet broken them apart."

A pause. "Those places are not guarded by sentries or armies. They are guarded by consequence."

She inclined her head slightly, acknowledging his concern. "The caves beneath the World Tree are known to us only in part. Some tunnels breathe with the land. Others are… closed. Not collapsed, but sealed by the Tree itself, because what lies beyond them disturbs the balance."

Her eyes darkened a fraction, not with fear, but with seriousness. "I do not believe predators took the research team. Nor do I believe a hostile group is operating there now. What you sensed was not hunger or ambition. It was resistance."

She stepped closer to one of the great surface roots, resting her fingers lightly against it. "If they entered those ruins without understanding what they were touching, the land may have reacted. Not to punish them, but to stop further harm."

Eryndel looked back at Mykel. "That does not mean they are beyond finding. But it does mean the path will not be straightforward, and force alone will not open what was closed."

A softer note entered her voice. "If you wish, I will ask the Tree what it remembers of their passing. It will not show me faces or names, but it may reveal fear, disruption, or the point where the balance shifted."

She met his gaze evenly. "If we go forward, we do so together. With patience. Whatever waits in those depths is not something that yields to urgency or violence."

The forest seemed to listen with them, leaves stirring faintly as Eryndel waited for his reply.

Mykel Dawson

 

[Mykel Dawson]

Robes

Eryndel could make no confirmations on the true nature of the assailants such limited knowledge, but she was certainly of a similar mind that they weren't just dealing with a mundane threat below the surface. She alluded to a precursor civilization, one that had tried to mettle with the Force in vain. They didn't sound much different to the Sith, who were obsessed with twisting the Force to their will. Suddenly, the mission escalated with divine purpose.

He nodded at her suggestion to commune with the World Tree for additional guidance.

"I think that would be wise. Would you be opposed if I also connected with the tree along with you? I already feel its attention upon me?"

___________________________________________________________________

Eryndel​

 

[Eryndel]

Eryndel studied him for a long moment before answering, not weighing his worth, but listening to the way his intent settled in the Force. The World Tree's presence loomed behind her, vast and patient, its awareness neither pressing nor retreating. It was already listening.

"You may," she said at last, her voice calm and certain. "The Tree has noticed you, as you felt. That is not something I would deny, nor something I could deny even if I wished to."

She stepped closer to one of the great surface roots, placing her palm against its bark. The Living Force stirred in response, deep and resonant, like a low breath drawn from the heart of the world. "But you must not reach for answers," she added gently. "Ask, and then listen. What the Tree gives is never what we demand, only what we are prepared to carry."

Eryndel lowered herself to one knee beside the root and closed her eyes, her presence settling into the forest as naturally as rain into soil. "Stand with me," she said. "Let it know you are willing to witness."

As Mykel focused, the World Tree answered.

Not with words.

The jungle dimmed around him, the sounds of insects and distant movement falling away until there was only the slow, immense pulse of life beneath his feet. The ground seemed to fall away, replaced by cool stone and echoing space. He stood within a vast cavern, its walls carved with obsidian facets etched in symbols that hurt to look at for too long, their meaning pressing against the mind rather than the eyes.

Figures moved through the vision. Not clearly. Shapes of sentient beings burdened with tools and devices that drank deeply from the Living Force, drawing it inward and distorting it. The air felt heavy, strained, as if the world itself resisted what was being done. The structures pulsed once, violently, then fractured. Not destroyed, but sealed, swallowed by root and stone alike.

The vision shifted.

He saw the recent past. Lights cutting through darkness. Voices echoing in confined tunnels. The university researchers moved cautiously at first, then with growing excitement as they uncovered what had been buried. Fear followed close behind, not sudden, but dawning. The sense of crossing a threshold that should have remained untouched.

There was no slaughter.

Instead, a closing.

Stone flowed where there had been a passage. Roots thickened, coiling and locking, separating those within from the world above. Panic flared, then dimmed, replaced by confusion and exhaustion. The last impression was not death, but containment, and a heavy stillness settling like deep water.

Then the vision loosened its hold.

The forest returned. The warmth. The weight of the air. The steady presence of the World Tree behind Eryndel's hand.

She opened her eyes and looked to Mykel, her expression grave but not without hope. "The Tree has not shown you an ending," she said quietly. "Only a turning point."

Her hand remained on the root. "Those you seek were not taken by predators, nor by malice in the way you know it. They crossed into something unfinished and were… held. Stopped. Whether they still live depends on what followed."

Eryndel met his gaze, emerald eyes steady. "The Tree remembers where the balance was disturbed. It will allow us to follow that memory. But what lies ahead was sealed for a reason, and reopening it will not be without cost."

She rose slowly to her feet. "If you still choose to go forward, I will walk with you. Not to command the forest, and not to bend it, but to listen closely enough to know when to stop."

The jungle breathed around them once more, waiting for his decision.

Mykel Dawson

 

[Mykel Dawson]

Robes

Mykel was certainly no stranger to talking to plants, now quite proficient with Consitor Sato, but the World Tree was a whole different beast, a sentient repository of experiences across time. The psychic transmission overwhelmed his own senses, leaving him with a floaty feeling while being reduced to a hapless passenger in someone else's ride.

He witnessed the rise of an advanced but dark civilization twisted from the start, meddling with the very fundamentals of the Force in their quest for dominion. Empires rose and spread across this planet in service to these violent hungers, then imploded in mass conflagration for the same. Here he felt the agony of countless lost souls inscribed within the very earth of this world.

The Age of Fire.

The Age of Strife.

The Age of Death.

When the vision ended, he pulled back his hand, rubbing his palm as if he just been burned.

"I understand now..." he whispered to her. "What you are, what you came from..."

There still was no definitive answer on the fate of those lost in the caves, but now he had a terrible idea of what had occurred. Dark forces were at work below the surface, stirred awake by the folly of ignorant interlopers. As a Jedi, he would descend to meet them.

"Do you still wish to accompany me?" Mykel asked Eryndel. He would understand if she remained behind after what the Tree shared, but he certainly wouldn't mind an extra hand. In truth, he should wait for reinforcements, but waiting meant more lives lost. There also weren't many Jedi left these days. He would have to make do with what he had.

___________________________________________________________________

Eryndel​

 

[Eryndel]

Eryndel did not recoil from his words.

If anything, she seemed more present after the Tree released him, her posture grounded, her breathing steady, as though the weight of what he had seen was something she had learned long ago how to carry. When Mykel spoke of the ages, of fire and strife and death, there was no surprise in her eyes. Only recognition.

"Yes," she said quietly, answering his question without hesitation.

She stepped closer, placing herself not behind him and not ahead of him, but at his side. Her presence in the Force was calm and enduring, like deep roots holding fast while storms passed overhead. "I will accompany you. This is not a path you should walk alone."

Her gaze lifted briefly toward the towering trunk of the World Tree, its vast awareness settling back into patient watchfulness now that it had spoken. "What you saw is not merely history," she continued. "It is memory that still echoes. The land has not forgotten what was done to it, and it will not distinguish between those who come with reverence and those who come with force unless someone stands between."

She looked back at him, emerald eyes steady. "You are a Jedi. You will face what lies below because you believe it is your duty. I was born of this world, shaped by it. Who else would keep you from listening only to the danger, and forgetting to listen to the land itself?"

A faint warmth touched her expression, not humor, but resolve. "If the caves still hold those who were taken, then they are held because the balance was broken, not because they were meant to die. That matters."

Eryndel rested her hand briefly against a nearby root, feeling the slow pulse beneath her palm. "The Tree has already allowed you to see what many never will. It will not abandon you now. Nor will I."

She straightened, her voice firm but unforced. "We go together. You will confront what stirs below. I will help you know when the land itself resists, and when it asks to be healed instead."

The jungle breathed around them, warm and watchful, as if acknowledging the choice.

"Come," Eryndel said softly. "If you are to descend into the past, someone should be there to remind you how the world is meant to live."

Mykel Dawson

 

[Mykel Dawson]

He nodded in appreciation for her support, but then added a few words of caution. "The awareness and influence of the World Tree is vast, but it abruptly ends at the entrance of the cave system. That won't mean that you'll lose total connection to the Tree, but we will be entering the dominion of a different entity - one much older than the Tree. We will be at a disadvantage."

Mykel and Eryndel were now charged with bringing light to one of the darkest pits of the world. It was hardly what the Jedi Knight had expected coming planetside to answer a seemingly ordinary distress call, but he would fulfill his duties all the same.

"Let's gear up."

---

He had allowed Eryndel to gather anything she needed while he returned to his ship for gear. First, he had loaded up his speeder bike with medical supplies. Despite uncovering a paranormal threat, his primary objective remained recovering the missing. Anticipating conflict, the underlayers of his robe were replaced with obsidian armor.

Meanwhile, the shipboard Hecate activated a pair of modified YVH droids to back up Mykel and Eryndel and serve as her eyes and ears as drones. In case of a severed remote connection, they carried a simplified copy of her personality that could operate autonomously if required, affectionally named by her as Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dum.

"I finished reviewing the logs you uploaded," Hecate spoke through Dee, an amusing juxtaposition of a soft feminine voice coming out of the tall skeletal looking battle droid. "I noted elevated levels of stress and other dysfunction among both the first expedition and the secondary recovery team. Interestingly the Kiir guides among them appeared stable...right until they hit the cave."

"Right," Mykel concurred. "The native Kiir are deeply tied to the World Tree. It almost acts like a localized neuro network and storage system. Needless to say, it's jarring being cut off from from all that after becoming so reliant on it throughout their lives."

"Yes, in their final transmissions, the Kiir broke down, reverting to their native tongue. A common word they used was Nidhakar, roughly translated to the Dreaming Dragon."

"A dragon, huh?" In his vision, Mykel vividly recalled great fire breathing dragons blighting the skies during the Age of Fire, leveling entire forests and cities with plasma fire and arcane powers.

"It's a shame I left my Javelin at home. Anyway, keep the gunship prepped. We may need it later."

---

Before departing with Eryndel, he passed through the University tent one last time to speak with Wren on his findings. The professor and his students looked more worried with each revelation Mykel revealed.

"Do no follow with anyone else," he instructed them. "I've notified the Republic and the Jedi Order and they are scrambling a response. In the mean time, Miss Eryndel and I will act as their reconnaissance force."

His statement was a bit of a spin, if still factual. For the moment they were alone in dealing with the disturbance, but it sounded nicer to frame the pair as merely the advance force of a greater endeavor. Ashla knows the poor research team didn't need any other worries - he placed their burden upon himself.

___________________________________________________________________

Eryndel​

​

​

 

[Eryndel]

Eryndel listened to everything Mykel said without interruption, her attention fixed on him as he spoke of severed connections, ancient dominions, and forces older than the World Tree itself. She did not react with fear. If anything, there was a quiet tightening in her posture, a subtle readiness settling into place.

When he finished, she nodded once.

"You are right," she said softly. "The Tree's reach ends at the threshold. Not because it is weak, but because it chooses not to extend itself where it cannot heal without becoming something else."

She glanced toward the distant forest line where the cave system lay hidden beneath roots and shadow. "Beyond that boundary, the land remembers older rules. Older wounds. Things that were never meant to grow alongside life."

At the mention of the Kiir guides breaking down, her expression shifted. Concern flickered there, personal and unguarded. "To be cut off so suddenly," she murmured, "after living your whole life within the Tree's awareness…it is like being stripped of breath while still standing."

Her gaze sharpened slightly at the word Nidhakar.

"The Dreaming Dragon," Eryndel repeated quietly. "We speak of it in stories meant for hatchlings. Not as a monster to be feared, but as a warning. Of power that sleeps because waking it always ends in ruin."

She folded her hands together, grounding herself. "It is said to be older than memory. Older than tribes. Older even than the first roots. Something born when the world was still deciding what it wished to become."

When Mykel finished speaking with Wren and returned, she was waiting near the edge of camp, already prepared. Her cloak was secured, simple tools and small satchels of herbs and woven charms at her side. Nothing that looked like a weapon, yet everything chosen with purpose.

"You carry armor," she observed gently. "And medicine. Both are wise."

She stepped closer, lowering her voice. "But remember this. Whatever waits below does not answer to blades alone. It answers to intent. To fear. To anger. To certainty."

Her emerald eyes met his. "You will face it as a Jedi. I will face it as one who belongs to this land. Between us, it will not find easy purchase."

A brief pause followed.

"And if the Tree cannot follow us," she added quietly, "then I will carry its memory with me. So that neither of us forgets what we are protecting."

She turned toward the path leading into the deeper jungle, where stone and root converged. "We should go soon. The longer they remain beneath that influence, the harder it will be to reach them."

Then, softer, with a trace of warmth beneath the resolve, "And do not worry, Mykel Dawson. If something ancient truly waits below…it will not face you alone."

Mykel Dawson

 

[Mykel Dawson]

He gave Eryndel a sagely nod as she offered counsel. "It's true, this endeavor will certainly require a holistic approach. As always your guidance is welcome."

After making space for the woman to join him on his bike, they were finally off, Hecate's two YVH droids trailing close behind. By default, all base YVH models were equipped with micro-repulsors for enhanced mobility, but Mykel had installed extra coils and cranked out their collective output to grant extended flight capabilities, the war droids now able to zip across surfaces with ease.

The foliage was dense, the threat of collision only a hair's breadth away, but Mykel maneuvered with ease, deftly threading the speeder bike through the gaps with preternatural grace.

<Can you here me?> Mykel probed, seeing if Eryndel could carry on a dialogue telpathically. <Makes things easier with all the wind whipping around us.>

From their starting base from the World Tree's base, they had about the better part of an hour of transit before they reached the failed expedition's last known location, so there was some time to converse.

___________________________________________________________________

Eryndel​

 

[Eryndel]

For a moment, there was no immediate answer.

Not because she had not heard him, but because her response did not arrive as words first.

It came as a soft easing of presence, like a breeze passing through leaves, like sunlight filtering through high branches. A gentle confirmation rather than a declaration.

Then, slowly, her awareness folded closer to his.

<Yes,> her voice answered at last, not as sound, but as a layered impression of warmth and calm. <I hear you.>

There was no strain in the connection. No sense of effort. It flowed as naturally as the path of roots beneath the forest floor.

<The wind does not disturb thought,> she continued, her tone carrying quiet understanding. <Only breath and balance.>

As they sped through the dense canopy, her presence remained steady beside his, anchored and attentive, even as the world rushed past them.

<An hour is not long,> she added gently. <But it is enough to listen, if we use it well.>

A subtle thread of curiosity followed.

<What weighs most on your mind as we go?>

Mykel Dawson

 

[Mykel Dawson]

Eryndel was able to pick up on his outgoing thoughts, responding telepathically in kind. Good.

<The wind does not disturb thought,> she continued, her tone carrying quiet understanding. <Only breath and balance.>

As they sped through the dense canopy, her presence remained steady beside his, anchored and attentive, even as the world rushed past them.

<Quite true. While an open mouth will certainly disturb my throat if a bug flies in while speeding.> He joked, thoughts colored by mirth. They were flying headfirst into the jaws of the abyss, but it never hurt to lighten the mood.

<Your people. Is it a choice to remain as you are, as scattered tribes roving through the forests of this world? The World Tree revealed you all came from a much more advanced civilization.>

Exact time was hard to tell as the World Tree had passed on memories, but if they were to be believed, the Age of Fire was thousands of years before the first foundation was laid down for the original Jedi Order and the Old Republic, and humans could only dream of interstellar flight happening in hours instead of centuries. Had the apocalypse really bowed the Kiir so low?

___________________________________________________________________

Eryndel​

 

[Eryndel]

Eryndel's presence flowed back to him with a quiet steadiness, her thoughts moving alongside his with the same effortless grace as wind threading through the branches of an old, listening forest. There was no rush in her response, no sharpness or correction, only a gentle clarity that settled into his awareness like soft light.

<It is not something we 'remain' as,> she replied, her tone warm and patient. <It is something we chose, again and again, over many generations, until it became not only our way of living but our way of understanding ourselves.>

The forest streamed past them in blurs of green and shadow as they moved, yet her awareness stayed rooted and calm, anchored in something older and deeper than motion.

<Our elders tell us that long ago, our people lived very differently,> she continued, her thoughts carrying a note of distant memory. <We built more. We reached farther. We shaped the world instead of listening to it, believing that growth alone was wisdom.>

A soft thread of reflection followed, sincere and unhurried.

<Much of that time is lost to memory now. What remains are stories, fragments, and places the roots have not yet touched. But all of them carry the same lesson: when growth outpaces wisdom, it leaves scars that take generations to heal.>

Her presence warmed slightly, like sunlight filtering through leaves.

<So when the world changed, we changed with it. We chose smaller lives, slower ones, lives where no single voice could grow so loud that it drowned out the others, and where no structure stood taller than our understanding of its purpose.>

She paused, letting the thought settle between them.

<We are not scattered because we are weak,> she said with quiet conviction. <We are scattered because balance lives in many places, not just one.>

Her awareness brushed his lightly, curious but open, inviting him to feel the sincerity behind her words.

<Some of us still wonder what lies beyond these forests, what other worlds would feel like beneath our feet, what other ways of living might teach us something we have forgotten. That wondering is not forbidden. It is simply held with care, the way one holds a seed that may or may not be ready to grow.>

A hint of quiet humor rippled through her thoughts, subtle but unmistakable.

<It is easier to listen when you are not shouting over engines and towers,> she added, the amusement softening into something more personal.

Then, with a gentleness that felt like a hand resting over his heart, she continued:

<The Tree does not keep us small. It keeps us honest.>
Her presence remained beside his, steady and trusting, as though she were walking not only through the forest but through the shape of his thoughts.

<And sometimes,> she finished softly, <it reminds us that honesty can travel farther than roots ever will.>

Mykel Dawson

 

[Mykel Dawson]

Eryndel explained that the slow technological progress of the Kiir was a choice, intending to remain in harmony with their environment instead of dominating it again. As a Jedi, he could respect that choice, as his creed called for a life of humility and collaboration where possible.

<It seems you've all done well to abide by that lifestyle all this time, but what now as Orkathell becomes more widely known in the galaxy? Thus far, visitors have seemed friendly, but it may not always be the case. There are resources on this planet more unscrupulous characters would find valuable.>

He could only imagine how badly things would be going now if the Sith had found that cave instead of the innocent but naive researchers. A new hell unleashed upon this world and beyond. The Kiir would need to be stronger if they wished to protect their way of life.

<Do you or your kin ever think about going off world, seeing what the galaxy has to offer?>

___________________________________________________________________

Eryndel​

 

[Eryndel]

Eryndel's presence quieted for a moment after his question, not withdrawing, but turning inward. He could feel her attention shift, like leaves settling after a breeze, as she considered not only his words but the concern beneath them.

When she answered, her thoughts returned slowly, carefully shaped. <We think about it,> she admitted. <More often than you might expect.>

The forest rushed past them, yet her awareness remained grounded in the deep rhythm of roots and living stone.

<We are not unaware of what waits beyond these trees. We feel the currents of the wider galaxy through those who visit, through echoes carried by the Force. Curiosity does not disappear simply because we choose restraint.>

A gentle note of realism entered her thoughts. <And you are right. Not all who come will arrive with respect. Some will see only what can be taken, not what must be preserved.>

She let that truth settle before continuing.

<That is why the Tree remains vigilant. It does not sleep. It feels the intention long before footsteps reach our borders. If those who come seek to wound this world, it will resist them. Storms will rise. Paths will close. Roots will shift. The land itself will become a barrier.>

There was no boast in her tone. Only certainty born of long experience.

<It has done so before. Quietly. Without spectacle. Most never realize they were turned away.>

Her presence softened again. <But the Tree cannot do everything alone. It protects the balance. It does not replace choice. It does not prevent us from learning how to protect ourselves.>

A pause followed, more personal now. <Some of my kin believe we should remain here always. That leaving would weaken the bond. Others think we should learn more about the wider galaxy so we are not naïve about ourselves.>

She brushed his awareness lightly, thoughtful.

<I stand somewhere between those paths.> A hint of honesty surfaced, unguarded. <I love Okarthell. Its rain, its voices, its nights, its silence. This world is my home in every way that matters.>

Then, quietly, <But I have wondered what other skies feel like. What do other forests sing like? Whether there are places where the Living Force speaks in languages I have never heard.>

Her presence warmed, tinged with gentle vulnerability.

<The Tree has never told me to leave. But it has never told me to stay, either.>

She turned her attention fully back to him. <If the time comes when others must walk beyond these roots to protect what we are, then some of us will go. Not to conquer. Not to collect. But to remember who we are, wherever we stand.>

And beneath it all, a quiet truth.

<Perhaps…I have already begun to think about that path.>

Mykel Dawson

 

[Mykel Dawson]

He learned Kiir lived humbly, but not naively, aware of the wider galaxy and its dangers even if they had never set foot off-world.

<That is why the Tree remains vigilant. It does not sleep. It feels the intention long before footsteps reach our borders. If those who come seek to wound this world, it will resist them. Storms will rise. Paths will close. Roots will shift. The land itself will become a barrier.>

<You will not be alone in this endeavor. Until my last breath is drawn, you may always count on me to come to your defense.>

That's kind of what he was doing now, coming to the aid of the Kiir after well meaning interlopers had disturbed a carefully cultivated ecosystem.

Up until this point, Eryndel had spoken to him with such confidence and assurance about her place in the world, but for the first time, he felt doubt creep into her thoughts as the question of interests beyond Orkathell came up. She seemed content with her current lot, but he could also sense a burgeoning curiosity for something more.

<If it pleases you, then you could accompany me off world for a tour. After we finish this business with the cave, of course.>

___________________________________________________________________

Eryndel​

 

[Eryndel]

For a heartbeat, Eryndel did not answer. The silence that followed was not hesitation, nor uncertainty, nor any struggle to find the right words. It was simply the quiet she needed to let herself feel the fullness of what he had offered her, to allow the meaning of it to settle into the deeper places of her awareness before she shaped a response.

His offer drifted through her mind like warm sunlight filtering down through high branches, gentle and unexpected, touching her without pressing, illuminating without demanding. There was no weight in it, no urgency, no attempt to bind her to anything. Only an open hand extended in trust, a possibility held out with sincerity rather than expectation.

When her presence returned to him, it carried something new, woven through it a lightness that had not been there before, a quiet warmth that spread through the bond between them with the unmistakable shape of a smile.

<You would offer me the stars so simply,> she replied, her thoughts threaded with soft amusement that rippled like wind through leaves. <As though they were just another path through the forest.>

He could feel it then, clearly and without effort, the gentle curve of her lips, the brightness that had kindled in her eyes, the subtle shift in her posture. Even without seeing her, the expression translated through the Force with a clarity that felt intimate and unguarded.

<Yes,> she continued, her tone softening into something almost tender. <I think…I would like that.>

The forest streamed past them, ancient and constant, yet her awareness felt lighter now, lifted by the quiet thrill of possibility.

<I want to see how other worlds breathe,> she said. <How other people listen. How the Living Force sings in places where there are no World Trees to guide it.>

A hint of shy honesty followed, delicate but sincere.

<I have wondered for a long time what lies beyond these skies. I never knew if it was right to wonder.> Her smile deepened, warm and genuine, carrying the sense of someone stepping toward something long imagined but never spoken aloud.

<But if I go,> she continued, <it matters to me that I go with someone who listens first and acts second. Someone who understands that every place has its own roots, even if you cannot see them.>

Her presence brushed his gently, grateful and trusting, a quiet affirmation of the bond forming between them.

<So yes, Mykel. After the caves are quiet again…after the lost are found or honored…I would like to walk those distant paths with you.>

Then, lightly, with a thread of gentle humor that warmed the space between them:

<I may ask many questions. And I may miss these trees more than I expect. You will have to be patient with me.> And beneath it all, steady and sincere, the truth she had been circling finally settled into words. <But I want to see what else the galaxy holds. Not instead of this world…but because of it.>

Mykel Dawson