If perfection is stagnation, then Heaven is a swamp.

[Gabriel Sionoma]

You envy her ignorance and she desires your knowledge and memories...

He was overcome with a sense of irony in the situation. The grass, it seemed, was always greener. And he wasn't sure who was right or who was wrong. Would he be happy, not knowing of the atrocities he had committed?

I'd like to think, given the chance, I wouldn't willfully give up my memories - no matter the gravity. They make us who we are. Sorrow and regret can be overcome far easier than the shadow of memories, forever present and always out of reach.

He blinked slowly, gaze drifting to the holocron with calloused fingers wrapped gently around metal.

Have you always been present, watching?

 

[Cerusia Shamalain]

The voice in his head went silent, perhaps out of contemplation. The hands continued to turn but had visibly slowed, the illumination seeming to dim.

Present, yes. Watching, no.

I see only what she shares and stores within.

 

[Gabriel Sionoma]

​So what...you're stuck in a holocron...present but removed...

​And she's left without ever knowing who she was...

​He shook his head, thumbs pressing against the decorations of the brass.

​No. I can't accept that. I won't.

​Having broken free from his own form of prison, this situation felt oddly relatable.

 

[Cerusia Shamalain]

The holocron in his hands began to cool, dim, flicker. On the bed there was movement, Cera stirring in her sleep. She turned over, face visible now with a brow knit in a dreamless sleep invaded by whispering voices. A man and a woman talking quietly as if in a room on the other side of a door. She couldn't understand their words but could hear the murmurs.

A moment later the light of the holocron went out and the dial needles fell still. As Gabriel pressed at the brass case a crown came loose and toppled from his fingers, hitting the floor with a sharp PING and rolling off.

Cera's eyes snapped open, glowing in the darkness, and slowly blinked clarity into her nightvision.

 

[Gabriel Sionoma]

​He felt it, like a dying heart that breathed its last breath. While the force told him otherwise, he couldn't overcome the tactile impression. She was gone...for now.

In the silence of the room, her movement was the only thing he could hear. Beyond his own breath and the sound of his heart and the creak of the spinny chair, she was the only noise that could distract him.

His eyes followed the dial as it fell from the holocron, bouncing against the metal floor and coming to a rattling stop. He had no explanation for what had happened so he did what made sense.

He let out a sigh, set the holocron down on the desk in front of him, ran fingers through the loose locks of his hair, and leaned back in the chair. Not yet ready to discuss his frustration, he made friends with the shadow of her presence as it grazed his sight upon the ceiling. Lit by ambient light along the baseboards of the room, such static stance meant she hadn't yet left their bed.

 

[Cerusia Shamalain]

She watched him, eyes blazing in the dim, purple haze over a faint dawn. The sound of the metal had been so clear and she knew, somehow, exactly what it was, as if a piece of herself had come undone to tumble away from a man who was powerless to help. Cera waited where she lay, more curious to the silence of the man than the happenstance of the holocron.

Eventually she was drawn from her stillness to investigate, pulling the sheet with her out of some habit of dignity from a life hundreds of years gone. Legs curled over the edge of the bed, toes touching upon the cold of the floor, a hand reached next for the crown-piece resting just under the frame. Quiet movements muffled by material, the woman silently padded the short distance to where he sat and gingerly placed the piece on the table beside the holcron. Her fingers reached out for the beloved artifact next, feeling its cold surface and quietude.

It was enough to raise her concern, but not alarm. This had happened before, once, when it fell from the shelf in the store. Dissero had fixed it then and she wondered if perhaps this wasn't simply a remnant of that day. A piece that wouldn't quite remain fixed. She left it to seek out the warmth of the warrior sitting in the chair, moving to stand beside him with eyes downturned.

What was he doing here?

Cera smoothed the back of her fingers across his chest, lifting to stroke them along his jaw. A silent questioning gesture.

 

[Gabriel Sionoma]

As her fingers moved to his jaw, he moved to wrap his own fingers around hers. Not to pull her away, but instead to embrace them. To press her fingers against his lips, to take in her subtle warmth. With a long moment not taken for granted, he moved his chair and with a turn, wrapped is arms around her - placing his head against the sheet that covered her stomach.

If he focused, he could hear her breath.

And he could feel her gaze, the question that pulled at the reason for why he was awake.

Communication was hard enough between them. He wasn't about to muck it up with deception or failure of truth.

"I'm sorry if I woke you..." He admitted, his hands gripping the edges of her hips as he drew himself away to find the burning orchids that hid in the dark of night. "...I was speaking with your...your holocron."

He didn't know a better word for it. But given the focus on the item, he knew she would at least understand his direction.

 

[Cerusia Shamalain]

She suspected as much.

Wasn't often that the holocron activated and she could only think of two other times when it had. The first when she had fallen asleep with it in her grasp. The second after Dissero had fixed it during the twilight hours before the dawn. Its ...consciousness seemed to be directly linked to when she, herself, was deep within the sleeping realm. Dreamless sleep, like tonight, that allowed the two parts of the soul reprieve from the pull of emotions. The intrinsic link between herself and the Alethiometer was known, but she had no idea just where that link began and where it ended in any sense of the ethereal and esoteric.

These were magics far beyond her scope of skill or knowledge.

Fingertips found his face again and moved to press against his lips, quieting the man and his admission. She could hear the fatigue in his voice and see it in his eyes. With everything that had happened in the last few weeks the woman was content to sleep and to share this bed with him, mysteries of the great unknown be damned. These were things she could understand now, in the time they had, and everything else could wait. Cera stepped back from him and let her fingers slide from his chin to clasp the hand at her hip as she moved back to the bed, a gentle suggestion he could take or leave.

 

[Gabriel Sionoma]

He wanted nothing more than to turn back towards bed, to allow a restful mind to comprehend what had just occurred. Up until this point, he was sure he hadn't registered the full weight of the discussion - a surreal trance continued to wash over his mind. In a way, it had felt like he just had a full conversation with his Cera. Which he had...and he hadn't.

Taking her hand and guidance, she led him back to the bed. There, he could curl into her arms and drift back into sleep, with dreams likely burdened by the events that had just passed.

 

[Cerusia Shamalain]

While he slept she combed her fingers through his hair and over his scalp, finding her own fatigue much abated by those short hours of the void. After a while, when Gabriel slept deeply, she pulled from his side with the greatest of care. In this new body Cera found that she slept very little when the light of a moon was abundant. Despite her faded memories giving only vague hints to her former life, the indication was there that this had not been so before.

It was strangely discomforting at first, being incapable of sleeping more than a few hours at a time. What did one do with so many hours to a day? Eventually she settled in to her studies and the old habits bleeding through from before. A shop could only be cleaned and reorganized so many times, but there was an endless amount of information to pour over and, on Annaj, a swamp that spanned for days on end. Exploration at the back of the giant tuskcat had certainly proven interesting.

Just like that, as she slipped into the material of a night robe, Cera felt nostalgic for that old hovel of a shop. Homesick, even, for the tiny and forgotten town of Ikkermill.

Silent as clouds across an evening sky she padded from the bedroom and down the hall, looking to fill the hours between now and when Gabe awoke with something.

Warm tea, perhaps, and a book provided by the Kuat Palace Library.

 

[Gabriel Sionoma]

He woke to the cool emptiness of the sheets, his hands moving to the spot where Cera should have been. Though with the way he had roused from bed in the middle of the night, he could only assume that turnabout was fairplay. But, as he looked towards the desk next to the bed, he realized that it wasn't night time at all. Even in the depths of space, the body seemed to find a way - an internal clock was a difficult thing to kick.

Stepping across the cold floor, he found suitable clothes for movement through the ship. Standard sleepwear of bottoms and top, mix and matched in color due to the lack of preparation, he accepted it for the time being. He wondered how close they were to arrival.

Padding out, he looked for signs of life. But instead, he found an area for preparation of caf. Making himself a cup, absent cream or sugar, he sought and found Cera. Reading a book, sipping on something, he couldn't help but allow a modicum of happiness show through in a smile. For that brief moment, he had forgotten what had happened the night before. Instead of feeling its weight, he moved weightless to her side. Spying a line of dialogue in the book, he leaned down and kissed the crown of her head. Taking in the scent of her hair, he moved over to a seat nearby.

"Couldn't sleep?"

He pulled his legs up, sitting on soles of his feet as he sipped the caf.

 

[Cerusia Shamalain]

Eyes closed to the moment of affection in much the same way a cat would enjoy a stroking hand over its head. In place where a simple smile or quiet greeting might have sufficed for others, the language of the body was deemed more appropriate where words fell silent. Slivers of rose followed him to where he reclined, feet perched in a curious show of comfort and youth, drawing a faint upwards turn to her lips.

She could have lifted her hands to tell him that she had slept enough. Explained that biologically she didn't need more than a few hours, that her restorative energies came from the light of the moon and the blood of her prey. Could have told him that she was restless in the twilight hours.

Could have, but didn't.

Cera opted for a mild shrug, expression easy and giving no indication of being deprived. A moment was taken to observe him where he sat, noting the wave to his hair where the braids had unraveled and the softer line of his gaze. Gabriel had never been hard on the eyes but he did wear his stress on his sleeves, his thoughts on his chest. He looked no less thoughtful but certainly the worry lines were less apparent. Time spent losing oneself with another did that to you.

Hands lifted then to pose a question that had been on her thoughts since settling into her book and musings.

[Where are we going?]

 

[Gabriel Sionoma]

There was always hesitation between questions asked and the silence, the sort that served as his answer. He wasn't sure if he was becoming particularly good at reading her body language or simply comfortable in the uncertainty of her thoughts. Among all those he had ever known, he couldn't recall a form of communication that was more complex.

He had easily spoken to her holocron. He wondered if it would ever be that easy with her, thoughts shared in these moments of silence.

Taking a sip from his caf, he ran fingers through the length of his grey and black hair.

"I wanted to take you somewhere different. To the place I go when I'm not on Annaj. To Sulon...I wanted to show you something, if you're willing to go there. We don't have to stay for long." He smiled, warmly. "I'm starting to miss the swamp."

[member="Cerusia Shamalain"]​

 

[Cerusia Shamalain]

Strange how she had known they were not heading for Annaj and yet the admission of their destination still jolted her all the same. Somewhere in the far reaches of her heart where the swamp's trees had taken root and the rains had fed their growth she felt the pang of yearning. What little smile remaining on her face faded rather suddenly at this prospect of eking out into the new and unknown ... for her. After all, her first trip off Annaj to Kuat had gone so well for all involved.

Cera shifted in her chair, brushing hair away from a knitted brow, and considered this.

[Is it...safe?] her hands quietly cut the words through the air.

If this place was where Gabriel made his home then she ventured it was likely very safe, but something about hearing him say it would lay to rest any doubts.

 

[Gabriel Sionoma]

He watched quietly as that expression shifted, dunes across the beach inverting with a strong breeze. Where hills existed, shallows formed. All from across the top of a ceramic mug, hazel eyes watching quietly. He wondered where that consternation originated, what fears rested beneath an otherwise relaxed expression. For him, Sulon was as much home as Annaj. For her, he assumed that the answers she needed rested inside the golden holocron. Removed, for the time being, and just out of arms reach.

"Yes." His eyes lifted from her hands back to her eyebrows, or the way her skin moved with emotion. "I've only ever had a single issue there." He took a sip from his cup. "A matter involving mistaken identity. My brother and a bounty." He set the cup on a saucer, on the table next to him. "I run a component of the law enforcement in the populated area of Sulon, Baron's Hed. You are safe there."

He wondered if he could have simply indicated his own presence as means for safety. But in the frame of Kuat, he wasn't confident in his ability to thwart such weighted schemes.

 

[Cerusia Shamalain]

Rose flickered beneath heavy lashes, turning away in thought. It was a moment that lasted only seconds but felt like an eternity. Fighting against the need for the familiar was difficult when everything else in the galaxy was so very alien and yet maintained its semblance of familiarity. Cera worried for herself, and she knew this to be selfish, but she also knew her reaction to these experiences wasn't exactly what one called pleasant.

Her gaze shifted back to Gabe after only a beat, the swell of a racing mind having fully flooded her forethoughts. Part of her wanted to say no, but it wasn't the part presently in control of her body ... apparently. The woman nodded and offered a faint smile.

As long as she was with him, the other part of her thought, she could manage.

 

[Gabriel Sionoma]

Silence was so often her answer that it sometimes felt comforting. He could search out orchids, burning brightly on the edge of a sunset, for every answer that he needed. That her brow might lift or her lips curve inward, he might fight indication of a positive response. It was as much a game as it was a reality. In her pensive state, often a solemn notion held to hide her concern, he would have to serve as comforting reflection.

A smile and a nod, even though he could sense her worry, was enough for him to know that at least some hint of acceptance lingered behind feint amaryllis.

He stood up, caf finished, as he moved to her side. Placing another kiss across her hairline, he lingered for a moment. "Trust me." Given her past, he knew it to be a difficult thing. Particularly because her past lied in a box, removed from her reach. Cupping the ceramic in his palm, he strolled off to offer delicate guidance for the navigation systems.

~~~​

​

Take the long way around.

That's was the mentality he was using. He recalled the way she responded to the moon, sitting upon the water tower, though he wasn't entirely sure of her response to a mid day sun. She stood on the beach as if she had always known it, but often found comfort in the shade. So they were set to arrive in the twilight...on a moon that rarely saw full night. Only when rotation met with Sullust, eclipsing the sun, would the world know full shroud.

::Incoming Vessel, please identify yourself. Our current tags show no match for your readings.::

He pressed down on the communication device.

::This is Marshal Sionoma, Sheriff of SLEEG. Sending verification codes now.::

A moment passed by.

::Roger that, Sheriff. Good to see you back. Land where you'd like though steer clear of flying over Baron's Hed. They're preparing for the harvester festival.::

He smiled.

::10-4. Thanks.::

[member="Cerusia Shamalain"]​

 

[Cerusia Shamalain]

A book returned to its shelf. A wardrobe combed for clothing of common use. A woman made the conscious decision to forgo materials of great value for those of great familiarity. Clothing from Annaj, an outfit that had seen the swamps and - though cleaned - still maintained a faint aura of the old shop. She pulled them on and closed her eyes, briefly swimming in the memories.

Her memories. Times and places and peoples belonging to a life she had forged on her own.

Her clothing. Not royal uniforms or gowns of a civilization that meant nothing to her, but pieces that had seen the mists of a faraway bog and had known the warmth of a tiny inn. There was even, to her curious surprise, a hair of the tuskcat still woven into the fabric of her shirt. Cerusia drank it all in with a frown and moved to join Gabe in the pilot's cabin. She slipped in soundlessly, taking the co-pilot's seat beside him and turning her gaze to the planet of Sullust as it filled the foreward viewport. What silent wonder could be seen on her face would likely only be recognized by someone that could read the nuanced shifts of her expression. To be certain, the experience of space travel still seemed so unbelievably new.

Had she seen this planet before in her previous life? There came no indication in her thoughts that she had - no images or flashbacks, and so caused her to wonder what planet, exactly, it was. But the time to wonder was brief as Gabe steered them away towards the moon and made his approach. They skimmed through cloudless skies darkened by twilight and glided over seemingly endless open fields of dirt and stone. Seemed such a barren place in comparison to the lush swamps and marshes of Annaj - almost reminded her of Tattooine or Korriban. Blinking away what visions this brought she turned her gaze to the left as they flew south of the town of Baron's Hed. Lights of the buildings twinkled in the distance, shadows of people could be seen moving between the stacks. Gabe flew on, following the trail of a road worn into the plains.

Patchworks of stone walls separating tracts of land, small farms and a branchwork of side lanes. There was little green to behold, leaving Cera to wonder just what these people could possibly farm out here. Eventually they passed over a gently sloping valley. Pale greys and browns slowly turned to verte meadow. Trees. A massive yet elegant homestead surrounded by gardens presented itself and as they dropped lower she turned to look at Gabe with mild confusion, brow knit.

If this was his home ... why would he ever leave such a place for a cramped old shack in the middle of a swamp?

 

[Gabriel Sionoma]

He looked over, unable to see beyond the bemusement of her expression. Lofted and knit brow, the ever subtle hint of confusion, and the way she seemed content to make these questions in silence. Where he was left with the feeling of her query, absent the words, his mahogany view transitioned back to the landing. A zone, planted near the edge of the homestead, with an immediate access point to his workshops below the house.

The grey steel of the ship cut through the sky above, sending orange and yellow flowers and fields of hay into a mild fit. Bending beneath the force, he turned to face the nose towards the field and forest beyond, as it set down.

"After I was released from the prisons of Sulon, I bartered with the law enforcement of Baron's Hed. For work served, they gifted me this property and the homestead. Which I renovated in the time I've had...away from Annaj." As he spoke, his gaze drifted over to her, emphasizing the final piece of the statement. As far as he was concerned, this was home. But so was Annaj and so was she. "You don't need to leave the ship until you're ready. I'll be right outside." He reassured her as his hand moved over to hers, enveloping hers with a gentle touch, ensuring that he could hear her. He understood that she had questions, the sort that would be freely answered in time.

With a pause, he undid his harness and stepped past her. Moving through the ship, a few steps took him to the ramp of the ship and as he descended, he felt the breath of the planet wash over him. The twilight purples and reds, cast across the partially eclipsed moon, gave an almost magical hue to the fields of grain. Fireflies moved above, brought to life by the death of the ships engines, and blinked in dull harmony across the gently sloping hill.

Dragonflies zoomed past him as he walked out, fingers trailing over long unkempt blades of drying grass. The drought was pronounced, hills barren or coated in carpets of almond and amber. Except for his property and the properties near his, touched by the renovations of ducts and the Tap Tree. Life was finding a means around the homestead in verdant swaths. And in the distance, he saw one of the Cheerful Morodins move across the landscape, ducking into the woods that led to the Apiary.

Gripping an inflorescence in his palm, he ripped it from the stem and lifted it to his nose.

[member="Cerusia Shamalain"]​

 

[Cerusia Shamalain]

Not long before quiet footsteps interrupted the sound of rustling grasses, the quiet presence moving to stand at Gabe's side. She took in the view slowly, gaze panning smoothly across the surrounding fields to the shadows of trees and then the massive silhouette of the homestead. Everything here was different, in stark contrast to the world of rain and waters she called home.

In absence of the swamp its dark trees there were plains of dried grasses spanning for as far as she could see. The rolling fogs and dewy moisture dissipated for a cool, dry breath of air. Beneath her boots was solid ground, unmoving and reliable. Certainly, too, there would be unrelenting sun come daytime and nary a cloud in the sky.

Did these hills know the sound of thunder? How long had it been since rains soaked the valley? Ever?

Then a great and beautiful home stood in place of a burnt down shack, an aged and rain-battered inn.

It was lovely but so very, very different.

[Beautiful.] Cera signed to the man, indicating his home.