b r e a t h e
The gentle hum of morning filled the air all too soon. It carried on the lake as if it breathed before weaving into songs of unseen birds that stirred among the branches of a great many trees. Soft, golden light filtered through the orchard, dappling the ground in shifting ribbons, as a breeze caused limbs to sway in a slow wave. Somewhere beyond the greenery, where the land sloped toward the sapphire waters of the lake, the first stirrings of Spritegate Shore came to life—a ripple of laughter from the younglings' quarters, the soft, muted sounds of morning canticles lifting to the sky. It was a place of peace.
A refuge.
The Shore itself was never silent, but the music of it was always gentle. It warmed the heart. Eased the nerves. Soothed the soul. Cybelle Sal-Soren sat beneath the shade of a heavy-laden tree, running her fingers through the grass, having already started her chores for the day. Freshly cleaned linens were hung neatly on the line and the empty basket sat beside her while she leisurely waited for the warmth of the sun to dry it. A steaming cup of floral tea rest on the broken low stone wall beside her, fragrant steam curling lazily into the crisp air. She had always loved the mornings here.
Since Exegol…Since losing so much…She had come to truly appreciate the place where she'd spent many of her formative years. It was home. It was a cliché to a degree. She'd been so desperate to find herself but every path had taken her back to where she'd started, living as a newlywed, in her adoptive parents' backyard. They were tickled, of course. Brandyn seemed to be flourishing here like she had never seen…Maybe the quiet life, wasn't so out of reach.
Her fingers brushed the elegant ring on her finger, the cool metal warmed by the sun. She still found herself studying it absently, as though each reaffirmed that this was real—that she was here, that she was his, and they were carving out a place where hope could thrive. A life. A real, life. The shore was a place where weary Jedi could find solace, where lost children could find love. Where those in need of healing, whether in body or spirit, would never be turned away. When Gianna had suggested they come stay for a while…Had she known how much Cybelle needed this?
The stability? The Light?
She didn't feel the darkness of Exegol looming overhead or the dangers of their work slowly piercing through her. The negative energy that seemed to swarm in was pushed aside, scattered, by the goodness that had seeped into the ground. So many Jedi had come here—So many found peace. Their echo made it feel like living in a place apart. Existing in a cloud. It was beautiful…So beautiful.
Cybelle picked up her tea and gingerly took a sip.
It wasn't her favorite but she'd been feeling nauseated lately and Gianna swore it would help. Considering her Master and adoptive-mother was rarely ever wrong, Cybelle gave it a try, before resorting to any stronger medicinal solutions. She was wearing one of the pale-blue robes Master Aegis had given her when they'd returned. It was made of soft material, flattering, but hedged with deeper blue embroidery and the barest touch of gold thread. Simple…But elegant.
It reminded her of the Jedi robes that she had accidentally on purpose destroyed trying to make doll clothes when she'd been young. Cybelle imagined that many parents would have been furious to find their child cutting apart expensive material on the living room floor, but Gianna had laughed, and then folded down on the floor to help her hold the shears. Thread the needle. More concerned with her getting hurt than anything else.
It was only one memory of a thousand from the Shore that she treasured.
Was this what life would be like now?
Cybelle smiled fondly into her teacup.
She hoped so.
