Ascending Legend
The world was quiet in a way she did not understand.
It was not the stillness of meditation or the calm that came from balance. This was something else entirely, a hollow weight that pressed in around her without offering any clarity in return. Iandre stood at the edge of a shallow rise where the land opened into a sweep of green and silver. The wind moved gently through the tall grasses, bending them in slow, patient waves that carried no urgency or demand. Somewhere in the distance, water moved over stone with a quiet rhythm threading through the air like a fading memory.
It should have felt peaceful. It did not.
Her hands rested loosely at her sides, unmoving, her posture composed in the way it had always been. There was no outward fracture and no visible sign of the storm she carried. There was only stillness. Too much stillness.
"You are meant to listen," she murmured to herself, her voice soft against the open air. "To feel what remains. To understand."
That was what she had been taught and what she had lived by. The Force was not silent, and it did not abandon. It shifted and changed, carrying those who had passed into something greater, something that could still be touched and followed if one only knew how to listen.
She closed her eyes and reached. There should have been something. An echo or a trace, the faintest impression of a presence that had once stood so close to her own that she could feel the rhythm of it without trying. But there was nothing. It was neither distance nor a fading light. It was simply nothing. Her breath stilled for a moment as the realization settled.
"That is not how this works," she said quietly, though there was no conviction behind the words. "There is always something."
Her brow tightened slightly, the only outward sign of her strain. She reached again, more deliberately this time, extending her awareness further than before. She searched beyond the immediate space around her, looking past the wind and the living world that still answered her in quiet and familiar ways.
Life was there. The Force moved. But him. There was still nothing. Her eyes opened slowly, and the horizon came back into focus. It remained unchanged and indifferent to her searching.
"You did not fade," she continued, her voice growing softer. "You did not return to the current in any way I can follow."
The words felt wrong even as she spoke them. Rellik had stood beside her. He had been there, and then he was not. There had been no body, no presence, and no transition. There was only an absence.
Her fingers curled faintly at her sides, the motion small and almost imperceptible.
"A ritual," she said, as if giving the thought shape might finally make it make sense. "An event I did not witness. A moment I cannot retrace."
There were too many unknowns and too many missing pieces, none of them leading anywhere she could follow. She exhaled slowly, steadying herself against the growing weight of the void.
"You are not gone," she said, though the certainty she had once carried was no longer there to support her. "That is not what this is."
But if that were true, where was he?
The question lingered unanswered, stretching out into the quiet landscape around her. Iandre did not move. The wind passed around her, and the world continued as it always had. The Force remained present and alive in everything it touched.
Everything but him.
She stood there, caught between what she knew and what she could no longer prove, searching for understanding in a silence that refused to give anything back.
Caltin Vanagor
It was not the stillness of meditation or the calm that came from balance. This was something else entirely, a hollow weight that pressed in around her without offering any clarity in return. Iandre stood at the edge of a shallow rise where the land opened into a sweep of green and silver. The wind moved gently through the tall grasses, bending them in slow, patient waves that carried no urgency or demand. Somewhere in the distance, water moved over stone with a quiet rhythm threading through the air like a fading memory.
It should have felt peaceful. It did not.
Her hands rested loosely at her sides, unmoving, her posture composed in the way it had always been. There was no outward fracture and no visible sign of the storm she carried. There was only stillness. Too much stillness.
"You are meant to listen," she murmured to herself, her voice soft against the open air. "To feel what remains. To understand."
That was what she had been taught and what she had lived by. The Force was not silent, and it did not abandon. It shifted and changed, carrying those who had passed into something greater, something that could still be touched and followed if one only knew how to listen.
She closed her eyes and reached. There should have been something. An echo or a trace, the faintest impression of a presence that had once stood so close to her own that she could feel the rhythm of it without trying. But there was nothing. It was neither distance nor a fading light. It was simply nothing. Her breath stilled for a moment as the realization settled.
"That is not how this works," she said quietly, though there was no conviction behind the words. "There is always something."
Her brow tightened slightly, the only outward sign of her strain. She reached again, more deliberately this time, extending her awareness further than before. She searched beyond the immediate space around her, looking past the wind and the living world that still answered her in quiet and familiar ways.
Life was there. The Force moved. But him. There was still nothing. Her eyes opened slowly, and the horizon came back into focus. It remained unchanged and indifferent to her searching.
"You did not fade," she continued, her voice growing softer. "You did not return to the current in any way I can follow."
The words felt wrong even as she spoke them. Rellik had stood beside her. He had been there, and then he was not. There had been no body, no presence, and no transition. There was only an absence.
Her fingers curled faintly at her sides, the motion small and almost imperceptible.
"A ritual," she said, as if giving the thought shape might finally make it make sense. "An event I did not witness. A moment I cannot retrace."
There were too many unknowns and too many missing pieces, none of them leading anywhere she could follow. She exhaled slowly, steadying herself against the growing weight of the void.
"You are not gone," she said, though the certainty she had once carried was no longer there to support her. "That is not what this is."
But if that were true, where was he?
The question lingered unanswered, stretching out into the quiet landscape around her. Iandre did not move. The wind passed around her, and the world continued as it always had. The Force remained present and alive in everything it touched.
Everything but him.
She stood there, caught between what she knew and what she could no longer prove, searching for understanding in a silence that refused to give anything back.
Caltin Vanagor
