A Childs Plea
He rubbed his hands over his eyes, trying to banish the lingering images that clung to the edges of his vision. The dream, vivid and unsettling, replayed itself in his mind's eye. A young girl, with eyes that seemed to pierce straight through him, calling his name. Calling for help. It was always the same now, this unsettling call, ever since he'd returned to Naboo. Lorn knew who she was, Isla, the daughter of Virginia, but the reason behind her desperate plea remained elusive, a maddening mystery that burrowed into his thoughts.
He slid to the floor, seeking the cool touch of the stone, hoping to find a semblance of calm. He settled into a cross-legged position, and as he closed his eyes, he let his mind drift back to the first time he had encountered her, that fateful summit so many years ago.
---
He was twenty-four, a young man hardened by war. The endless conflict between the Kingdom of Varnell and Krull had chipped away at his soul. The faces of fallen friends, the countless battles, they had all taken their toll, and he felt like nothing more than a weapon, a killer, far removed from the Jedi he was meant to be. The thought of settling, of a peaceful existence, seemed foreign to him. Yet, he was resolute. He couldn't abandon his Master, his Kingdom, the very people who had offered him a home and family. Fleeing to Naboo wasn't an option - this was who he was, what he was destined to be.
With a heavy heart, he'd joined the Varnell party at the foot of the Hullond Mountains, the bleak landscape a reflection of his own inner turmoil. Snow fell lightly as they met within the crumbling walls of an abandoned castle. A meager fire crackled in the hearth, the only source of warmth. Lorn stood stoically behind his King, his Master at his side, as the Krull party entered. The menacing figure of King Krull was followed by his Knights, each cloaked in an unnerving aura of the dark side of the Force. Then he saw her, Virginia, a hollow shell of the woman he once knew, wife to Vik Krull, and the sight of her twisted his stomach. But then she appeared. Isla. A ten year old girl. Reports of her strong connection to the Force had reached Varnell's ears. They called her a Seer, her visions their weapons in war, her precognitive abilities they had come to fear, on the wrong side of them many times had Lorn been.
As Isla entered, her gaze locked onto Lorn. It was a disconcerting, unnerving stare that felt as if she was peering directly into his soul. Lorn, caught off guard, stared back, a strange sense of familiarity pulled at him. He remembered seeing her as a baby in a frantic vision on the mountain when he was undergoing his ceremonial emergence into manhood. But, why did she look at him this way?
The negotiations began, but quickly devolved into chaos. King Varnell, eager to end the fighting, tried to negotiate with Vik, but the Krull King was stubborn and arrogant, his words laced with venom. What had started as an attempt to discuss peace quickly turned into a furious shouting match. Accusations flew and old wounds were reopened, each word a burning ember thrown onto the flames of conflict.
"You speak of peace, Varnell, yet your soldiers have plundered our lands for decades!" King Krull's voice boomed, echoing through the stone hall.
King Varnell rose to his feet, his hands clenched at his sides. "It is your brutality that started this war! Your bloodthirsty men, marching through our lands! You call it defense, I call it savagery!"
The tension in the room grew thicker, each face a portrait of simmering rage. Lorn and Soloman quickly restrained their King, knowing the talks were at an end. They forced him out of the room, dragging him away from impending violence. Lorn was the last to exit the doorway, Isla's gaze remaining unwavering, her eyes locked onto his, maybe a silent plea for something he could not decipher.
Vik Krull stepped up, barring their way, a smirk playing on his lips as he mocked Lorn. "Running away, Lorn? Well, we will meet again, soon." He spat the words as he pushed them on their way. Lorn forced himself to turn away, the weight of defeat heavy in his chest. Surrounded by his guards, he decided that retreat was the only sensible option for now.
---
He rose from the floor, the cold stone having done little to soothe the anxiety that coiled within him. He climbed back into bed, pulling the covers up to his chin. Why did she haunt him? Had they placed some kind of spell on him that night? Were they trying to torment him, even from across the stars? That thought sparked anger within him, but no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't shake the fascination he felt for Isla and the mystery of her dreams invading his mind.
He hoped, desperately, that one day he would find an answer. If he didn't, he feared he might never know the peace he so desperately craved.
