Private The Pain of Losing

[Thurion Heavenshield]

Alliance Hospital Vessel Restoration
​

It was never his mission to make certain an Alliance victory. Tython and its dark moon Bogan remained under Imperial occupation despite a well-coordinated bid by the Alliance and the New Jedi Order to reclaim the ancient homeworld of the latter, and the painful call to pull back any ground forces was made. Thurion, seeking to complete his task as issued by the Force itself, had gathered to him his young charges and commenced the Winterwalk, bringing the party of war-torn padawans with him aboard the support vessel Restoration as it prepared to retreat along with the rest of the fleet. They appeared unexpectedly, boarding the medical wing in a maelstrom of snow and mist in a manner as mystical as the titanic knight had first taken the field.

Choosing to remain aboard until he could ascertain the wellbeing of his charges, the Lion would sit at their bedside as each was nursed back to health, even lending his considerable skills in medicine. So it was that by the time Roman Vossari would wake from a much-needed rest, the King greeted him with a reassuring look and a kind smile, his sheathed sword resting against the foot of his hospital bed while in his hand sat an elaborately carved pipe.

"Welcome back, Young Master Roman," he bowed his head. "You'll be pleased to learn the others in our small yet resilient troop have pulled through just as you have." He gestured to the bed next to Roman's occupied by a redheaded girl. "Lady Anneliese rests still, her arm having been seen to without the need for amputation. The others are safe as well, though they reside farther down this very wing."

Sitting back in his chair, seen for the first time without his armour, he puffed on his pipe as a steady streak of smoke emanated from the glow of its bowl.

"You have some strength in you, Lordling of Serenno," Thurion remarked, blowing a cloud of white out the corner of his mouth.

 

[Roman Vossari]

Restoration | Hospital Room
Lightsaber: X | Armor: X | Training: X | Casual: X
Tags: Thurion Heavenshield

​

As Roman lay in the hospital bed, the weight of his experiences pressed heavily upon him. Nightmares plagued his dreams, visions of fallen comrades distorted by smoke and shadow, echoes of his own guilt intertwined with the faces of soldiers he had been forced to confront on the battlefield. Their screams followed him from Bogan, an echoe of voices that twisted his dreams into horrifying spectacles of memory and regret.

He jolted awake, breath quickening with the remnants of a vivid nightmare that felt all too real. The sterile scent of antiseptic filled his nose, grounding him back in the present moment. Confusion washed over him, fading remnants of chaos retreating to the back of his mind like the evening mist. As he steadied his heartbeat, he turned to find a familiar, comforting sight next to him. It was Thurion, their savior and protector.

Without the imposing armor, Thurion appeared like a statue of strength carved from wisdom and age, contrasting starkly with the fierce knight Roman had seen in the heat of conflict. As the smoke from the elaborately carved pipe drifted upward, the atmosphere felt less stifling, more serene.

Roman lay back down, the tension in his weary bones dissipating as he remembered he was safe now. The anxiety that clawed at him began to recede with the knowledge that his friends, his brothers and sisters in arms, had survived just as he had. He thought of Anneliese, the girl he loved, her injury had been severe, but she would heal, and that calmed something restless within him too.

Thurion's gaze, steady and reassuring, met Roman's, and a fleeting moment of warmth washed over the young Padawan. It was a profound comfort, a balm to his frayed spirit. Yet, when the older man remarked on his strength, a wave of bitter disbelief enveloped him.

"I don't feel strong, sir." he admitted, his voice trembling slightly. "We all -- none of us were prepared for this. We charged into darkness thinking we could be heroes, but all we found were shadows and death." His heart twisted at the memories, the cries of the fallen, the moments when he had felt utterly powerless.

"I fear this day will haunt me for the rest of my life." he continued, his honesty spilling forth like a broken dam.

He swallowed hard, the weight of his words pressing down like the burden of the blade he had wielded in combat. "If it wasn't for you… I don't know what would've happened. You saved me, saved all of us."

Roman's gratitude spilled through, deep and genuine, leaving him vulnerable beneath the gaze of the knight he revered. "I won't forget." he vowed with a flicker of newfound resolve, though uncertainty tinged his every syllable. "Not now, not ever."

 

[Thurion Heavenshield]

He recognised that look. The look of utter dejection following your first battle as you're drained of adrenaline and the rush of combat leaves your thoughts. Bones stiffen and muscles ache as suppressed fatigue sets in, screaming at you just how fortunate you are to still be alive when so many others are not. And when your first battle ultimately amounts to nothing, on top of that? It is a feeling of total abandonment of hope, as if your wounds and aches are not even repaid in the slightest.

Roman was at an inflection point. He had a choice; whether to shy away from the terror, or to push ahead and, in the end, conquer it. It was a choice every young person had to face growing up in this war-riddled galaxy. Thurion shook his head.

"You saved yourselves," he said, settling a giant hand upon the lad's shoulder, both to comfort and to indicate that he should lie still. "Spare your gratitude for the Force which we both serve. I merely acted on Its behalf; entrusted with your survival. You, Anneliese, Casaana, Caelan... You shone like beacons in the face of annihilation. I only provided the spark with which your souls were set alight."

Thurion turned his hand over, gently touching Roman's forehead with the back of it.

"You fought valiantly, son. You did your house honour, and kept your friends safe. There is no shame in this defeat. One battle does not determine the outcome of a war, nor does one brave warrior determine the outcome of a battle."

Setting his pipe aside so as to not offend the lad's respiratory functions, the aged man brought his chair closer to his bedside. It creaked under his weight, yet remained sturdy. That great, tender hand of his, calloused and scarred from a lifetime of hardship, then settled against his cheek.

"You are strong, my boy. Stronger than you realise. You survived — now you must decide whether to keep on living for those that did not, or to render their sacrifice meaningless by shutting yourself in. To face the world anew, bearing your scars with pride and determination, or to become a husk — forever bowed, bent, and broken."

Roman Vossari

 

[Roman Vossari]

Restoration | Hospital Room​

Lightsaber: X | Armor: X | Training: X | Casual: X
Tags: Thurion Heavenshield

​

Thurion's words echoed in his mind, a melody of encouragement wrapped in wisdom. But how could he feel strong? The darkness of that day clawed at him, the flashes of lightsabers igniting, the screams piercing the air, and the hollow silence that followed when the dust settled. He had fought alongside comrades, made his stand as leader among friends, yet here he was, consumed by guilt for those who hadn't made it out alive.

His thoughts turned towards Anneliese, the vibrant spirit, the one he cherished the most. She had been the first to charge, and he couldn't even keep her safe. Every moment he replayed seemed to place blame squarely on his shoulders, as if he could have altered fate with a mere choice. "If only I had been more prepared... If only I had been faster..." The if-onlys spiraled around him, tangling with every breath, whispering into the cracks of his mind.

Turning his head toward Thurion, who had settled into his chair with patience, Roman searched for answers in the knight's gaze. The old man's eyes held a storm of experience that Roman craved to understand. "How do I handle it?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper, the words heavy with a sorrow that felt insurmountable. "All of this sadness and anger... it clings to me. Will it ever go away?"

Roman closed his eyes, envisioning the faces of his fallen friends. Each one bore a unique flame, extinguished too soon yet still flickering in the depths of his memory. Like Thurion said, they deserved to be remembered, not through his torment but through his courage to act in their honor. "I just feel so lost..." he admitted, painful honesty spilling from him like the remnants of a shattered vessel. "How do I fight for them when I feel so weak?"
Opening his eyes, Roman searched the older man's face for assurance, seeking to glimpse the strength he so desperately needed.

 

[Thurion Heavenshield]

Roman Vossari spoke, and Thurion Heavenshield listened. Every doubt, every hurt, and every despair spilled forth from the young man lay before him — a man on the cusp of his prime. It broke the old man's heart to see any young person despair, recalling his own personal experiences growing up, and how he's strived ever since to make certain others need not face the same hardship. The degree to which he empathised with Roman wiped the warmth from his gaze and removed any trace of a smile.

"What you're feeling right now... the guilt... the self-doubt..." He leaned in, his expression grim. "It's all I ever feel. Every waking moment, when I'm left to my own devices, I think to myself: I could have done more. It is a most potent poison." He cupped the sides of Roman's face, staring into his soul before flicking his gaze to the resting form of Anneliese in the bed next to Roman's. "Unless you have the right person by your side. I have... had my Coci. Her presence chased the shadows away, and her words stayed the wounds I inflicted upon mine own psyche."

A sad smile found its way to his lips. "She still does that, even though..."

A moment passed before he locked eyes with Roman again, and his smile warmed.

"You have your Annie. When next you find yourself facing the fire, battlefield or no, she will be there with you. Let her spirit and the bond you share course through your very being. Let her be your strength, and be hers in kind. Share everything, the good and the bad. Shoulder one another, and the next time you feel beaten down — like your best wasn't enough — you will know where to turn for strength, as I have for so many years."

Thurion then sat back in his chair, picked up his pipe, and took a fresh puff.

"Short answer: You will find it when the time comes. You will find it because you must. You will find it because you cannot stomach the alternative."

The elder crossed his legs, scratching his beard with the long stem of his pipe.

"Have you got a ring in mind," he suddenly asked, seemingly changing topics on a whim. "For the wedding, I mean?"

 

[Roman Vossari]

Restoration | Hospital Room​

Lightsaber: X | Armor: X | Training: X | Casual: X
Tags: Thurion Heavenshield

​

Roman watched Thurion closely, his heart heavy. The older man had an air about him, a resilience forged through the fires of loss, and as he spoke of Coci, Roman felt a painful empathy for the knight. He turned once more to Anneliese, her still form breathing softly in the bed beside him, and the wave of gratitude washed over him, he hadn't truly lost everything that day.

Thurion's articulation of his own bond resonated deeply within him. "We are each other's rock..." Roman mused. He felt a stirring in his chest, a flicker of hope mingled with the weight of sorrow. She had always been his brightness, and if he were to bear their shared burdens, he resolved he would do so with strength. For her. For all the pain that threatened to overwhelm them both, he would grow stronger so that days like this would not shatter the foundations of their lives again.

As he turned back to Thurion, he was struck by the abruptness of the elder's shift, the way he seemed to reclaim his normalcy as he resumed puffing at his pipe. Roman blinked, slightly caught off guard by the casual question about a wedding ring. It felt surreal to transition from the depths of despair to thoughts of futures intertwined.

"I gifted her my family ring, actually." Roman began, allowing the words to flow as he felt the warmth of the memory. "It symbolizes a promise between us, and to steer away from the weight of the expectations my family places upon me." He chuckled softly, the irony not lost on him. "We talked about marriage, but we both felt we were too young to bind ourselves so tightly yet. But, thinking about it… If things had gone differently today, if we hadn't made it out…" His voice trailed off as the somber realization crashed over him, a sharp reminder of how fragile their dream truly was.

He paused, gazing thoughtfully at Thurion, a cautious instinct bubbling to the surface as he steered the discussion gently into uncharted waters. "You mentioned Coci, she sounds like she was incredibly important to you." Roman's curiosity sharpened, and he hoped to understand something from the fabric of Thurion's past. "Do you… mind sharing more about her? I'd love to hear your stories, about you and your own Anneliese. It comforts me to know that joy can still exist, even amidst the shadows."

 

[Thurion Heavenshield]

"Hah," the older man let out and grabbed Roman by the knee over the sheets. "How right you are! Any fool can buy a ring, as if their love has some monetary worth, but when it is an a family heirloom, steeped in history and meaning — personal meaning to you — then that, by the All-Father, is a proclamation of love. Well done!"

He let out a belly of laugh, soon stifled by a coughing fit brought on by the pipeweed, but he managed to regain composure by emptying the contents of the cup of water left for the patient by a thoughtful nurse. Realising his mistake, Thurion frowned at the empty cup before putting it back on its tray, grunting as he did. It was then that the mention of Coci was made, and he froze briefly with his arm extended, having just put the cup down.

Thurion smiled, then, though his eyes told another story. He slowly sat back and deliberately placed the stem of the pipe between his lips. It was quiet for a few puffs, smoke billowing out the corners of his mouth.

"Coci... She's my wife," he began. "We met the first time nigh-sixty years ago. I was young, barely out of knighthood and already world-weary. She was younger still; a Republic assassin-turned-Jedi. Dark hair, and even darker eyes. She and I were sent on a mission, just the two of us. It was raining profusely, so we sought respite inside a cave, not knowing it contained the artifact we'd been sent to retrieve. We only stumbled upon it the next morning after waking up in each other's arms," he raised an eyebrow, implying much with but a scant few words.

"Aye, we were well and proper smitten," he said, white teeth gleaming between beard and pipe as he grinned. "Before long, we pledged love to one another. A year or so later, my Lord Father married us in a grand ceremony befitting the son of the High King. I've never been so nervous as I was then, except the night our first boy was born some months later. I'd lost my own mother in childbirth so, naturally, I was terrified. But everything went just fine, just fine," he chuckled fondly.

"Roman, I am blessed with six children and four grandchildren. I have three nephews and a niece, and one grandnephew. Last I checked, anyway. I love my family more than anything in this world. They are my greatest gift to the galaxy; the only legacy of mine that matters."

Little by little, his smile faded.

"Coci and I shared everything. Every joy and every sorrow. I knew her body, mind, and soul by heart. When we weren't together, we'd communicate by thought across star systems. Together we were one whole being." A twitch of his eye betrayed the devastation behind the wall put in place for the young man's benefit. "But the story has since gone crooked, and I am rendered half a person."

It took every effort not to smash the bedside table in an outburst of frustration as he gingerly set down his pipe.

"You see, my lad, I've... I've lost her. And I don't mean I watched her die or she's been taken from me, but... I don't know. I don't know where she's gone, and let me tell you something: Not knowing is the hardest part. For all I know, she's out there somewhere crying for help, and I... I cannot hear her cries. For the first time in fifty years, her voice does not fill mine ears, and that," he stared off into nothing, the welling of tears blurring his vision while his voice broke in several places.

"That is far worse. Not knowing is the cruellest punishment of all."

A soft sniff as he blinked away his tears, even offering a brave smile in front of the Serennian lordling.

"So I wait. I offer wisdom, I guide my people, and I answer the call. That is all I can do. Anything less would be to dishonour her memory, and that I will not do."

Roman Vossari

 

[Roman Vossari]

Restoration | Hospital Room​

Lightsaber: X | Armor: X | Training: X | Casual: X
Tags: Thurion Heavenshield

​

Roman stared at Thurion, a wave of unexpected emotion washing over him. The older man's words, his voice, had shifted from a jovial tone to one laced with a melancholic ache that resonated deep within Roman's own heart. He hadn't expected this turn in the conversation, this glimpse into the depths of Thurion's life, and a sudden unease settled in his stomach. He'd wanted to understand the man, his motivations, his strength, but perhaps he'd pressed too far, unknowingly stumbled into a realm of sorrow he was ill-equipped to navigate.

A lingering silence filled the room, heavy with unspoken emotions. Roman didn't know if he should apologize, if he should steer the conversation elsewhere, or if he should simply let Thurion continue on his own. He remained silent, his gaze fixed on the older man, witnessing the subtle shift in his demeanor, the way his eyes glazed over with a sorrow so profound it was almost tangible.

Despite the discomfort, Roman found himself deeply affected by Thurion's story. His heart swelled with a sense of admiration for the man's unwavering love for Coci, a love that had spanned decades and birthed a family that was clearly his pride and joy. "I sure would like to meet this family of giant family of your's one day." Roman said, offering a soft smile. Roman could see the parallels between Thurion's enduring affection for his wife and his own feelings for Anneliese. He imagined their future, his own love story, potentially following a similar path, filled with shared joys and sorrows, a lifetime intertwined with the one he loved.

The sharp twinge of pain that accompanied his attempt to sit up straighter only served to ground him in the present moment, reminding him of his own vulnerability. He winced, a small, involuntary sound escaping his lips, before settling back with a grimace.

As Thurion's tale took a darker turn, Roman's heart ached for him. The pain in the older man's voice, the way his eyes blurred with unshed tears. "She's just gone?" Roman's voice was soft, barely above a whisper, a reflection of the stunned silence that had settled upon him. The thought of such a profound loss, without understanding, without closure, was utterly devastating. How could Thurion function, let alone guide his people, burdened by such an immeasurable grief?

Empathy flooded Roman's being. He felt a deep sense of compassion for the pain Thurion was enduring, a pain that felt so raw, so personal, yet somehow universal. "I... I'm sorry, Thurion." he said, his voice filled with genuine regret. "I didn't... I didn't realize..."

"I... I think you honored Coci's memory today." Roman continued, wanting to express his sincerity. "In sharing your story, in showing your love… It's clear how much she meant to you, and how much you continue to love her." He hoped his words offered some solace, some small comfort in the face of such immense sorrow.

The room fell silent, the only sound the rhythmic beeping of a monitor. A nurse entered, her presence a brief intrusion into the intimate moment shared between the two men. She checked on Anneliese's condition, her movements quiet and efficient, before leaving once more.

Roman, his mind still reeling from Thurion's revelation, found his own thoughts drifting. He couldn't help but imagine the unthinkable, the chilling prospect of Anneliese simply vanishing, fading from his life like a wisp of smoke. "I... I don't know what I'd do." he confessed, his voice a mere whisper. "If she were to just... disappear." The thought sent a shiver down his spine, a stark reminder of the fragility of life, of love, and of the crushing weight of uncertainty.

 

[Thurion Heavenshield]

He could tell from the range of expressions on Roman's face that he found himself having received more than he had bargained for, and it was not his intention to assail the young man with his private pains, but when it came to his wife he wouldn't dream of reducing her to but a paragraph; a few scant lines. She was so much more than that, and his words reflected but a sliver of her character and the tremendous impact she'd had on his life.

Throughout Roman's condolences and attempts to understand, the old man could only smile and hold the youngster's hand.

"No apology necessary, son," he assured him. "How could you possibly have known, hmm? Truth be told, talking about her is better than to keep her inside, as if to pretend she never existed in the first place." He gave his hand a comforting pat.

"I am an old man, Roman, despite all appearances. I've lived a long life, and been cursed with witnessing death taking those I'm closest to. Though I mourn each and every one of them, as you get older you find yourself feeling more and more grateful for the time you did share with them, rather than lament the time spent without. And I've spent the last 60 years with the woman of my dreams by my side. She's made me happy, provided me with a family, and saved my life on numerous occasions. How could I not be grateful to her?"

Bones popped as he pushed himself off his chair, taking an added moment to stretch his back. Slowly he made his way around Roman's bed until stood between him and his love, still under medically induced rest whilst her arm healed. He looked down at Anneliese, brushing a wayward lock of ginger from her peaceful face.

"It's just... When you bond with someone, they become part of you; in mind, spirit, even body to some extent. The depths of the bond shared between me and Coci meant we could converse telepathically as easily as through speech, across entire star systems. That is how I know she's gone, for I can no longer feel her as I once did every hour of my life, waking or no. A part of my very being has been stripped from me that can never return."

A momentary expression of grief fell upon him, but then as he turned back to Roman he smiled anew.

"You truly love this girl, for I know that look well. Your souls are already connection, but your Force bond requires time to develop. Given that time, you too shall know what it means to share every last piece of you with her, and she will give all of herself to you. Together, you shall become unstoppable; apart, you become lesser than you are. It is the price we pay to know absolute love."

Carefully, Thurion leaned forward to assist Roman in sitting up, then swing his legs over the bedside. He steadied him with a firm hold of his shoulder.

"You wonder how I still function despite such a loss, and I will tell you. Because all that pain, all that heartache, those pangs of soul-wrenching grief, is worth having been loved so unconditionally for years on end. It is a weight I have come to shoulder willingly in the time since her disappearance, and I'll bear it gladly until the day I am no more."

He inclined his head, momentarily becoming the Lion that once strode the battlefield.

"Now rise, Lord of Serenno."

Roman Vossari

 

[Roman Vossari]

Restoration | Hospital Room​

Lightsaber: X | Armor: X | Training: X | Casual: X
Tags: Thurion Heavenshield

​

Roman listened intently, a mixture of sorrow and fascination swirling within him as Thurion spoke of Coci. He appreciated the elder's candor, the way he didn't shy away from the depth of his grief, but instead embraced it as a testament to the love they'd shared. There was a certain strength in Thurion's vulnerability, a reflection of the unwavering love he'd held for his departed wife. Roman saw echoes of himself in Thurion's words, the fierce protectiveness and devotion they both held for their beloved women.

When Thurion moved to stand between him and Anneliese's bed, he listened to the what Thurion explained was the extent of his bond with his wife. The sheer magnitude of the connection Thurion and Coci had shared was incredible, a bond that transcended distance, a language spoken across the vast expanse of stars. It was a connection he longed for with Anneliese, a hope that simmered within him. "I hope," Roman said softly, his voice raspy from disuse, "that Anneliese and I can share a bond like that someday, as strong and unshakeable." He believed they were already on that path, that the threads of their souls were already intertwined.

As Thurion helped him turn and sit up, Roman winced slightly, his body still protesting the lingering soreness from his injuries. The elder's words resonated deeply, particularly the part about the price of love. Roman, though he hadn't yet experienced the soul-crushing pain of loss, was already aware of the responsibilities that came with loving another so intensely. "I can only hope," he admitted, grimacing a bit as he swung his legs over the edge of the bed, "that I get to spend fifty years with Anneliese, like you did with Coci."

Roman reached for Thurion's hand, his own fingers still slightly shaky. With a steadying hand from the elder, he finally managed to stand, his legs feeling unsteady but his spirit renewed. He stumbled towards Anneliese's bedside, placing his hand gently on top of hers. Though relief washed over him that she was safe, the sight of her resting peacefully under the influence of medical treatments still tugged at his heart. He hated seeing her vulnerable like this, but he was also filled with a profound gratitude for the chance to still be by her side.

Roman turned to Thurion, offering a grateful handshake. "Thank you," he said, his voice thick with emotion. "Thank you so much for being here for us. For everything." He felt a profound debt of gratitude to this man who had lost so much yet remained a beacon of strength and resilience. The experience had been intensely personal, yet in the sharing, a kinship had bloomed between them, forged in the fires of love and loss.

 

[Thurion Heavenshield]

Thurion kept a firm grasp of Roman's arm and shoulder as he slid off the hospital bed and walked his first steps since Bogan. Naturally, they led him to Anneliese's side. From what little he'd witnessed of their interactions down on the battlefield as well as the reverence he's shown her in these private moments, Thurion could tell they had a bright future together. When the young man turned to shake his hand, thanking him, the old man frowned.

As was his custom, he not only shook the man's hand but also pulled him in for an embrace, clutching Roman to his chest as if he were a child. "Thank yourselves," he asked of him. "I did not direct your every move; guide your every strike. Your training coupled with natural instincts saved you that day, not I. I am but a humble instrument of the Living Force, and it chose the four of you."

He smiled as their embrace reached its natural conclusion, his vast hands on either shoulder.

"You're going to be just fine, you and Lady Anneliese. Take my words to heart; love each other fiercely and deeply. All else will fall into place. This is your time now, son. I am honoured to have played some small part in your imminent rise, the four of you."

His head turned, and as it did the warmth in his expression faded.

"Horns of battle sound," he said ominously. "I am being called. I must answer. Always." Such was his duty, now until the end of his days. Before departing, Thurion knelt by Anneliese's bedside, gently took her hand in his, and placed a tender kiss upon it. "Pray, forgive my premature departure, milady. Look after Roman for me."

As he stood and turned to Roman, he stopped to place a similar kiss upon the young man's forehead. "May the Gods bless thee, Young Master Vossari. Know that, in thine moments of darkness and despair, I stand with thee. On my honour, we shall meet again."

Holding out his hand, the massive sword in its scabbard soared into his expectant palm, as if eager to get going. "Farewell, my brave boy." He shared one last look with Roman, patting him on the cheek before walking away. A sudden chill wind swept through the medical ward, followed by a swirling mist and a whirlwind of snowflakes as the Lion stepped into the aetherial fog, his armour and shield seemingly materialising on his person. As he began fading from view, horns of battle became more prevalent, heralding his arrival on another battlefield, and beyond the soundscape of war loomed large.

The Lion was gone, his duty to the four padawans at last fulfilled. So did he embark on his next quest, for he had long understood that universal truth — Only in Death does Duty End.

All that remained as proof of his presence aboard the Restoration was a lit pipe sitting on Roman's bedside table, slowly burning through the last of its pipeweed.

Roman Vossari

 

[Roman Vossari]

Restoration | Hospital Room​

Lightsaber: X | Armor: X | Training: X | Casual: X
Tags: Thurion Heavenshield

​

Roman, still weak from his ordeal, felt the world tilt as Thurion's powerful arms enveloped him. Ashla, he was strong! The sheer force of the embrace was almost suffocating, but Roman clung on, a mixture of gratitude and bewilderment swirling within him.

When the embrace concluded, and Thurion's voice, gruff yet filled with warmth, reassured him about his future with Anneliese, Roman nodded vigorously. "Yes, sir," he said, his voice raspy. "I will. We will."

Just as quickly as the reassurance came, Thurion's expression shifted, a look of grim determination replacing the comforting smile. The words about the horns of battle and being called were uttered like a prophecy, and before Roman could fully process them, the Knight was already moving towards Anneliese.

Roman watched, as Thurion knelt and placed a tender kiss upon Anneliese's hand. He then stood once more and bid him farewell. "I believe our paths will cross again," Roman said, a hopeful and determined note in his voice.

A sudden gust of wind, colder than anything he'd felt in the hospital, swept through the ward, carrying with it a strange, ethereal mist and a flurry of snowflakes. Thurion's armor appeared as if conjured from the very air around him, and before Roman could fully comprehend the sight, he began to fade, disappearing into the swirling fog.

When the ominous fog dissipated, the man was gone, just as mysteriously as he had appeared on the battlefield. Roman looked around the room, half-expecting it to be a trick of the light, a mirage. When nothing materialized, he walked towards the door and popped his head out, searching for any sign of Thurion. He was nowhere to be found.

Roman wandered back into the room, his mind still reeling, and saw the pipe resting on his bedside table, still lit and steadily burning. He approached the table, hovering his head above the pipe, trying to sniff the air, but quickly recoiled. He didn't like the smell of the pipeweed.

Roman picked up the pipe, a small piece of Thurion's presence, and sat on the edge of the bed, staring at Anneliese. A silent vow formed in his mind. He would love her as fiercely and deeply as Thurion had loved his Coci. He would serve the Force, until the very end, just as Thurion had done.

Thurion, the enigmatic Knight, had left a lasting impression on Roman. Though shrouded in mystery, he was a remarkable man, a beacon of strength and honour. As he sat there, with the faint scent of pipeweed lingering in the air, Roman hoped with all his being that their paths would indeed cross again in the vastness of the galaxy.