Private In the Weik of Shattered Dreams

[Kyric]

In the Weik of Shattered Dreams
House Building Theme
The Vouryl Plains | Weik

A cool wind settled over rolling hills of verdant grass. Clouds danced along the breeze, gently passing overhead to the chorus of shifting branches and distant bird calls. Tiny streams trickled through the emerald dunes, leading a lone land speeder and its hefty cargo toward their destination–a distant lake nestled within the epicenter of many tall hills.

Kyric watched a rabbit disappear into a small bush as an unknown reptavian swept low from its place within the sky. The hunter missed its prey by several feet, clawing thoughtlessly through twigs and leaves before it turned skyward.

“Beautiful, right buddy?”

A series of rapid chirps burst out from behind the kiffar’s head as BD-8, or the Big Chieftain agreed. The little droid helped assuage the feeling of anxiety within the boy’s chest.

Never did Kyric think he would find himself out on Weik, preparing to build a home for himself, while the galaxy fought on without him. But the advice Sol had given him after the Battle of Coruscant rung true in his heart. The battered and broken man Kyric was could not hope to face the Dark Lord of the Sith, let alone a fallen Padawan. What could the kiffar seriously expect to do without the use of his right eye in the event Solipsis appeared in front of him? Recovery became the boy's priority. Sol’s healing set him on the path, but rehabilitation and proper rest was needed most.

That’s what brought him out into the middle of nowhere.

Weik boasted a beautiful, mostly forgotten world. There was little to note. The varying city-states acted independently of one another due to a splintered history. Aside from the Paladins of the Adamite Tower, there was very little in the way of organization at all. Just loosely aligned peoples spread across an idyllic landscape.

Kyric spotted a flat expanse of land alongside the riverbed from atop one of the rolling hills and shifted the land speeder that way. Sure it didn’t look like much, but the kiffar knew better than that. He peered over his shoulder at the long trailer carrying copious amounts of materials. Various cuts of wood dominated the space. Tools were tucked into one corner beside a heavy metallic crate he knew housed several months worth of provisions.

Neither the Jedi Knight or his little buddy-droid expected to finish the work before they returned to the fight. The purpose of the exercise was to start. To put roots down and create, rather than destroy.

The speeder stopped beside a copse of tall trees. They cast a long shadow over the vehicle, perfect for keeping it cool while the sun shone high overhead. Kyric hopped over the side and wandered around to the back. He unclasped the latch attaching the trailer to the speeder. It groaned once, puttered out, and fell to the ground with a heavy thud as the energy keeping it aloft disappeared.

“Time to get started,” Kyric said with a smile. He rubbed his hands together, hefted a heavy piece of wood over his shoulder, and began the painfully slow process of unloading his goods.

 

[Kyric]

Hours passed as Kyric worked in silence. He erected a makeshift pavilion not far from the speeder, then carried each piece of timber one-by-one to rest within the tent-like structure's shadow. Once the trailer was empty of all but the metal storage bin, the kiffar reactivated it, and slowly pushed it to rest beside the pavilion via its antigravity features. He eyed the durasteel container for several minutes. When no solutions on how to physically move it came to mind, he lifted it via telekinesis and carried it over to his temporary home.

Tucked within the thin copse of trees, Kyric's 'tent' opened on approach. He strode inside and set the container down to the right of the entrance. A soft orange light lit the space, while cool air pumped from a generator affixed to the structure's exterior. Music drifted listlessly from a holoprojector tucked into the corner beside his cot. BD-8 rested in the shape of a large cube on his pillow after seemingly deactivating there to the tune of good vibes.

The sight brought a smile to Kyric's face. How long had it been since the two of them knew such serenity?

Years.

Many had passed since their last peaceful day on Denon. Ryv, then Corin, spent the night before preparing his legendary homemade cinnamon rolls. Such delicious delights made getting Kyric's younger siblings in bed practically impossible, but the young Karis couldn't blame them. He would've snuck one for himself if he could. Their father knew his children well enough to make such a task impossible, so Kyric fell in step with Ryv and helped play the role of caretaker that morning.

Until Ryv's arrival on Denon, he was no more than a symbol of an unending war. The Sword of the Jedi struck out at ten thousand enemies across ten thousand worlds. It darkened his heart in ways no man could truly recover, but it opened his eyes to certain truths. That deeper understanding led him to Denon where he discovered his two children and their wards. In time, the five of them became a family. They found safety within the bar that once stood as a symbol of their oppression.

Dagon's arrival shattered their temporary peace.

Hit with a wave of melancholy, Kyric stepped out from the tent and wandered silently up the slope of a nearby hill. The memory of his missing mentor hurt more than the thought of his late father. He stared up at a black sky dimly lit by a smattering of silver-white stars. Tears rolled down the kiffar's cheek in an unexpected onset of raw emotion.

Unable to find his words, Kyric stood there and wept quietly.

Honorable Mentions: Dagon Kaze

 

[Kyric]

Something cool prodded at Kyric's cheek while he slept. He ineffectually pushed it away, expecting one of his siblings to give up their prank when he didn't stir. But that didn't happen. Instead, the sensation came back more aggressively, like whoever it was viewed the boy's contention as an invitation.

"Alright, alright," Kyric grabbed for whoever assailed him. His bare fingers found a thick layer of fur over a muscled physique. Acting entirely on impulse, the sleepy-eyed Jedi rolled backward and onto his feet. The sudden motion kicked up a spray of dew coating the tall blades of grass licking at his heel. His hand dropped to his left hip in search of Resolute, only to realize he forgot it within his shelter the night before.

A growl superseded the kiffar's shock. His one-eyed gaze rubber-banded from his side to the source of the sound–an adolescent wolf.

They stared hard at one another for several heartbeats. Kyric kept the creature within view of his good eye and extended his senses a dozen meters in all directions. When the Jedi's psionic inquiry rolled over the wolf, the creature crouched low, baring impressive fangs at the boy.

Kyric raised his hands in turn. Did it... Did it just feel that?

Seems like it.

"Hrm." The kiffar took a slow step back, and when the creature made no attempt to pursue, he worked his way closer to his glamorous 'tent.' Steps away from safety, Kyric pressed into the beast's mind. Hunger was its most pressing concern. Days had passed since the young wolf's last meal. Creeping weakness sat at the edges of its mind, like an inescapable sickness the beast couldn't hope to outrun.

The door to Kyric's tent slid open at his behest. Momentarily startled, the wolf bounded back to the ridgeline and waited within its shadow.

Kyric reached out with his bandaged arm and called the Force to his aid. A tall can floated haphazardly across the room, followed by one of those old-school can-openers used this far out in Wild Space. He caught both and opened the can in a few short seconds. He wandered over to where he left the trailer the night before. Unfortunately, there wasn't much in the way of pots or pans on his little patch of land, so Kyric got creative and poured out the contents of the canned soup into an old Rebel Alliance replica helmet.

The saucer-like shape would have to do.

Finished with the matter of feeding the fauna, Kyric wandered back into his cabin-tent and prepared for another day's work.