Private Tomorrow Will Be A Good Day

[Lark]

​

Tag: Nida Perl

A soft breeze caressed Lark's cheek as he flipped the pages of a light novel, one that he purchased from a nearby antique shop. He had only wandered into that dusty store looking for directions, but the old woman working the place was so thoughtful with her guidance Lark couldn't help but buy something in return. It was probably a local author that wrote the book, perhaps a friend or family member of the owner. Perhaps he had been swindled, and the lady only put on a kind act to guilt people into purchasing something. But somehow, he doubted it. He had always had a talent when it came to seeing through people, always seeming to know where one's true desires and motivations lay. No, the old woman simply wanted to help a wandering youth who couldn't find his way around the city on Typha-Dor.

The book was small and the text was smaller, pages worn with time. But it was a pleasant read despite that. Titled "A Little Place Called Home," it was the story of a dying couple in the final months of their life. After living decades with one another, the pair seemed to pay no mind to the fact that it would soon all be over. There was nothing they could do about it, so they just enjoyed the moments they had left with each other, in their little home. It made Lark feel nostalgic for some reason, although he couldn't place why. He often wondered about what a quiet life like that would be like. And even though death grew closer and closer with every turn of the page, the author never broke the peaceful tone.

He read at a winery, near the tower where his sister spent her days not in peace, but in servitude. It was the location Lark had suggested to one of the only truly good people he knew, a young Jedi he had met during a skirmish a while back. He didn't trust himself to rescue his sister alone, for he knew not which personality would take control when he did. And even the more "decent" of his Sith allies might have unseemly plans involving her. Lark couldn't help but chuckle as he imagined introducing his sister to Adrian or Tsisaar, and what her impressions of his friends would be.

No, that could never happen. She could never know what it was her brother had become.

As Lark had a glass of violet wine placed on his table, a pair of elderly men slowly walked onto a makeshift stage. One held a flute, the other a guitar. Their song started slow, and maintained a melodic tempo. Lark enjoyed his glass, it was a tad more bitter than he expected, but he could see why it was a local favorite. As he listened to the serene melodies and the ripple of a nearby stream, with heavenly wine flowing through him, Lark started the next chapter of the book while we waited for the arrival of Nida Perl.

The chapter began with the couple traveling to their favorite winery and playing music the two had composed together.

A gentle smile graced Lark's pale face as he closed the book, and he began to laugh quietly. Both their music and the book seemed to garner a deeper appreciation after he made the connection. He made a silent toast to them, and drained the rest of the glass. No matter how much Lark wished to speak to them, to commend both their music and skill with words, he refrained. Any who knew Lark only knew pain in return.

He placed the book on the rustic table as another glass was given to him, and he looked towards the tower that his sister was in. In a decade and a half, this was the closest he had ever been to her. The nearest he'd been since she was ripped from the arms of her two brothers. The book, the wine, the music. They all helped keep him distracted, the peace kept the whirlwind of personas in his head at bay, allowing this veil of tranquility to cover him. I want this all so dearly, he thought, as a glimmering tear fell down his cheek. This is the closest thing to peace I've ever felt. But I still have so far to go, so much to do...

And how is it fair that I enjoy such tranquility, while she continues to struggle?

He quickly rubbed the tear away, he couldn't let the Jedi see him like this. That was, if Nida even showed up. Lark had his doubts since the moment he sent the secret message, asking her for her help. It had all the makings of a trap, Nida truly would be a fool to come here by herself. He truly meant no threat. He wore casual clothing, a scarf draped down his shoulder. He had left his Necronomicon behind, as well as his Sith sword. An enchanted dagger the color of frost was sheathed beneath his jacket, but its blade was not meant for Nida, nor hopefully anyone else.

Lark gazed at her empty seat, than back the the two musicians. Under most other circumstances, a late arrival would mean more time to enjoy the music and wine. Oh, how desperately Lark wanted to enjoy it all. To experience this day after day, night after night, year after year. But he couldn't. Not until his sister was free. Not until he achieved everything he set out to do.

Taking another sip of wine, he took another glance at Nida's empty seat. Perhaps I can give her one more song...

 

[Nida Perl]

Nida had received Lark’s message just days before she would journey to Yurb as a Jedi, alongside her sister and beloved. Just days before she would betray them both, plunging a dagger into the peritoneum of Thirdas Heavenshield and watching him fall down a flight of stairs with Kyra. It had been a sweet agony, and the madness in her blood she didn’t even know that she could possess which drove her to do it.

Weeks had passed since Nida’s transition to the dark, her programming skillfully triggered by AMCO during their impromptu meeting on Yurb. One night in a fit of nostalgia she didn’t quite understand, Nida went through her old messages and found Lark’s. She’d been too suspicious at first, but now her eyes caught sight of the time and date which he’d requested her presence. She could still hurry.

The winery on Typha-Dor was a pleasant affair, rustic in the tidiest sort of way. Two men were situated on the low stage, playing the sort of song that played well into the smart, rural atmosphere. It had been so long since she’d last seen Lark, too long for her to even remember the name of the planet they’d done battle on. Just when she wondered if she’d even recognize him, Nida’s violet gaze honed in on a familiar head of red hair. Red hair, like her mother. Nida’s throat tightened only for a second.

“Lark.” She approached him, hands clasped in front of her coat as she gave a simple, shallow bow of her head in greeting. “I received your message.” The fact that she’d come all the way out here was proof enough that Nida was willing to help.

As she undid the buttons of her coat, Nida wondered if he’d sensed the change in her. While fighting all those years ago, Lark had urged her not to lose her way. Not to fall from the light.

Lark

 

[Lark]

Lark's eyelids slowly closed as he waited for Nida, the soft lull of the music and the relaxing aroma of wine helped him drift away. He wasn't quite asleep, a soft gust of wind or a raindrop was all it would have taken to stir him. In that calm daydream, he had a pleasant vision of his past. He didn't remember if it was real or if he had fabricated it in hopes of creating happy memories with his family, since he had so few when they were all still together. But even if false- the dream provided just a little bit of comfort.

"Come on," the child Lark once was shouted merrily. "We're so close! All we have to do is make it back home!" His little sister tugged his hand, she was barely old enough to walk and couldn't quite keep up. She held a little doll in her hand, a princess whose fabric had turned brown and weathered with age. The doll might have once belonged to their mother's mother, for all the adventures it had seen. "Don't worry, I'll take you there!" He lifted her onto his shoulders, and lumbered through the alleys on Myrkr towards their small little house. His breathing was heavy but full of joy, perhaps today would be the day he finally won.

After turning the corner, their house was directly ahead of them. Alas, so was their elder brother, whose dark gaze could pierce through the most guarded of souls. "Villain!" Lark shouted dramatically. "I won't let you take her!"

His brother, silent in voice but overwhelming in presence, merely tilted his head. "In your excitement, I believe you've managed to lose us both the game," he said with an unfamiliar bit of humor in his voice. "All that shaking on your shoulders must have made her drop the doll..."

The boy looked up, knowing that his sister was missing her doll. His brother was a bit confused by the lack of sadness in her expression, but it was getting late. Darkness stretched behind Lark, it was to late for the game to continue. But they could always play more once dawn arrived. Setting his sister down, the two brothers approached each other. "Sorry I made you play the bad guy again," Lark said sheepishly. "Maybe next time, we'll switch roles. I can be the villain, if you'd like."

The brother gazed at their sister, even his cold eyes felt nothing but affection for his siblings. "You, playing the villain? You're far too empathetic for that. Don't lose your light, leave the dirty work for me." A strange moment of silence filled the air as Lark walked into their home, his brother clearly noticed the doll hidden in his pocket. The younger brother won the game today, but their duels were always evenly-matched spectacles.

"Perhaps we can work together soon," the boy pondered. "All three of us. Can you imagine? It would be great..."

A slight ripple shook Lark's vision, and his little sister was gone. Now fully grown, he still stood in his own home, staring down what appeared to be an older version of his brother. Eyes as black as the sea, hair resembling the void. "We could take the galaxy," he said somberly. "Once you put sister to sleep, its time to wake up."

"Lark."

His head shot up, memories of the past fading in a bizarrely fast sensation. For a moment he thought he still dreamt, how else could he explain the peaceful realm around him? But as his eyes finally gained focus, he saw the figure of Nida Perl standing before him. He was initially at a loss for words, he hadn't actually expected her to show up. It had been so long since they had first fought, and it would seem as though they had both changed since that initial encounter. Perhaps both of them for the worst.

"Nida," he said with a gentle voice, rising from his table. "I'm... glad to see you again." He sensed something vastly different about her, the light he begged her to protect had grown a bit dim, it would seem. So, even the most radiant of lights can fall to ruin. Disappointing, but its just as I thought. A monster resides within everyone. No matter how pure they seem to be.

"Thank you for coming," Lark said, returning the bow. His eyes were soft and sad, but they couldn't meet her gaze. He tried to think of something kind to say, but for whatever reason the words just wouldn't come to him. No, this won't do. How can you hope to find your sister sulking around like this? Perhaps Nida has lost her way, but what is a journey without a detour every now and then? Maybe this is where she's meant to be.

Lark turned, and faced the tower his sister was imprisoned in. Suddenly his stance was much more confident, and his eyes full of kindness. "As my message detailed, fifteen years ago my sister was ripped from my arms. She was sold all across the galaxy, from the lava mines of Kadavo to the grandiose halls here on Typha-Dor. I've missed her dearly, and soon we will be reunited."

He faced Nida once more, finally meeting her eyes. "I cannot rest until my family returns to a little place called home," Lark said tenderly, with frost following his words, and remembering the name of the book. "No matter how unknown the future remains, in this I will not falter. I will trample every star in the galaxy to dust if that's what it takes. We will make it home."

He picked up his glass, and finished the violet wine swirling around within. The musicians switched to a flute and a harp, and played a wondrously joyous song. Their voices were perfectly synced, creating a beautiful melody. "Truly, I wish we could stay here and share a drink and a song. This is such a charming little spot. But until my sister is safe, I will not know peace."

Maybe someday, I'll know how to truly enjoy a night like this.

Nida Perl

 

[Nida Perl]

As little as she knew of him, there had always been something sad about Lark . Even as they’d fought all those years ago, there was a somberness to the young man though his anger and pain. It was not the violence that struck Nida, but the melancholy and anguish twisted into one man.

His gentleness in their meeting was also surprising, but somehow it didn’t seem too out of place. Folding her coat nearly, she draped it over the back of her chair before seating herself across from Lark.

As Lark thanked her, Nida nodded simply. “Of course.” The moment it left her lips, she realized how a mundane response could sound so odd given their situation. A Jedi would have to be truly naïve to trust a Sith, but Nida had cast that title aside. Still, it did not mean that she was not naïve. Still, she lapsed into thoughtful silence as Lark explained his situation in more detail.

Love for one’s family was a powerful thing. Even though Nida had left the Perls, she still cared deeply for her sisters. If Kyra had fallen into the abyss that was the galactic slave trade, Nida would be beside herself with anger and worry. She tried to imagine what Lark must have felt for the past fifteen years—what he wondered about, how often thoughts of his sister touched his mind. What situations he may have imagined his sister in, how many rescue attempts he’d fantasized about. It dawned on her that the loss of his sister may have been what drove Lark to find solace and power in the dark side of the Force.

But these were all assumptions, none of which she dared take for truth. This was Lark’s story, not her own.

“But until my sister is safe, I will not know peace."

The cheery music and pleasant surroundings contrasted sharply with the conversation at hand, and in truth it made Nida uncomfortable. A passing waitress had delivered to her a cup of tea, from which Nida did not sip, but simply used to keep her hands warm.

“I have a little sister, Lark. If anyone ever took her from me, I too would not know peace until she was delivered home safe.” Her own words twisted a knife into her heart, knowing that the place she called home was never one she could return to. Not in the same capacity, at least. Not welcomed. Perhaps she and Kyra Perl would never be as close as they once were, but if she was safe, Nida could live with that.

“Family, duty, honor.” The words of House Heavenshield came to mind like an intrusive thought, and she muttered them as if on instinct. Images of Thirdas Heavenshield flashed in her mind causing her hands to tighten around the cup, and the waters of her mind became tumultuous with memories of the man she had loved and betrayed. Deep down, somewhere where it hurt, she still adored him.

Swallowing the tide of unresolved emotions—this was not the time for them—she fixed a more level gaze on Lark. “Family is important to me, too. I will help return your sister to you, Lark.”

 

[Lark]

Family, duty, honor. The first means far more to me than the other two. How could one truly devote themselves to all three in an equal manner? A bitter chill kissed his cheek harshly as he listened to Nida, it was well that she had agreed to help him in this matter. He had sensed a change within her upon her arrival, but no matter what it was that twisted both their hearts into whatever mess they were now, they still held some foolish love for their family. "Nida I'm... deeply appreciative for your help," he said, as the wind lightly pushed his scarf down his shoulder. A final glass of wine was delivered to him, and he left a generous tip for the young server. Lark had heard that traditional academies were expensive, though he never had the chance to attend one himself. The Sith libraries were full of more knowledge, of course. But they took a different sort of payment.

"If you'll give me but a moment," Lark said to Nida, as he rose from the table. The elderly couple had just finished another song, one that he was unlikely to ever hear again. He wanted to show how much he cherished their performance. Looking around, he sought out a basket to place a bit more money into. But after a few glances around the stage, he couldn't find any sort of donation bin.

"Ah, you must be new around here," one of the men said. "We don't take any money playin' here. We got everything we need already," he said, looking into his partner's eyes.

"I see," Lark said softly. "Well, you're right. I'm here visiting family. I'd just like to say, while such a performance might be routine for you, listening to the two of you was one of the most wondrous moments I've had in many years. Thank you, for giving me a bit of peace."

"Well lad," the other man said, tears swelling in his eyes. "Times like this make it all worth it. Thank ya, for touching an old soul's heart." He took his lover's hand in his own, grasping it tightly. The two understood they didn't have much time left. "And its never routine. Each day is more beautiful than the last." Another cold wind blew, and a bit of snow fell onto the vibrant grass of the winery. "We play here once a week, health and weather allowing, that is. Why dont'cha bring your family along next time?"

You'd have to live for years beyond what fate has granted you for such a thing to happen, Lark thought. "I'd like that," he said instead truthfully, knowing it would never happen. "And if I must depart before that happens, I'll surely spread the word of your majesty. Alas, my dear sister should soon be ready for my arrival. Good day." Lark bowed slightly, and as he turned the old couple got a brief glimpse of their book in his pocket. Looking at each other in such pleasant shock, their surprise soon turned to delightful smiles. They had rarely ever left this little town of theirs. But now, someone would forever know their story. And though he knew not how it would eventually conclude, Lark would always imagine the happiest of endings.

"Apologies," he said, returning to Nida. He grabbed his glass of wine, and idly tossed the money he planned on giving to the couple on the table. Lark had his connections, both among the Sith and various criminal enterprises around the galaxy. Money was not an object to him. Perhaps, if the server had any younger siblings in school or loved ones with health issues, those could now be paid for. "Let us be on our way."

Snow continued to fall softly as they began making their way through the town. It was not quite a miles walk to the tower where his sister was held captive, plenty of time to give Nida a few more details. "My sister is captive in a tower owned by a Lady Glimm," he said. "She was purchased at an auction at the lava mines in Kadavo. I've been there. It wasn't pretty. Glimm actually isn't that influential of a noble, her power has waned in recent years. Guard regiments are untrained and low in number, any other forms of security should be easily avoidable." Lark could've handled security on his own, that wasn't why he invited Nida.

No, he had a plan for what he would do once he found his sister. And he needed Nida there to make sure he didn't sway from that plan.

He took a sip of wine as they continued to walk through the rustic little town. Children ran around in the snow, making angels and trying to get a head start on forming the base of a snowman. Screams of laughter and merriment filled the air, and a slight hop formed in Lark's step as he and Nida meandered through the city, and he hummed the happiest song the old men had been playing. Older students studied in warm coffee shops, mothers and fathers snuggled with their pets on frozen metal benches. Even the most harsh of expressions softened a little at the scene.

A stray snowball hit Lark in the chest, surprising him and making him take a step back. The thrower completely missed the kid he had been aiming for, and the intended victim approached him to apologize. The child was clearly the youngest of the group that was playing, perhaps he was being picked on by the older children. Lark laughed and knelt beside the boy, running his hands though the freezing snow, making a snowball. Lark then used the Force, and gently guided the ball into the child's hands. The boy stood in shock, what he was seeing before him were legends told to him in stories before bedtime. Lark smiled, and placed a finger on his own lips, making a hushing sound. Giggling, the boy jumped up and down in joy, promising to keep the secret.

Lark chuckled, and a true smile pierced his face. "We never had snow like this on Myrkr," he said to Nida, standing beside her again. "I wish we would have. This tender cold is as soothing as the strums those musicians were playing. Of course, my brother and I were frigid enough living under that murky bridge. We'd never have survived. In truth, I'm still not sure we actually did. But these children, they deserve to laugh. Every child does."

He looked out onto the pastoral, folksy village. Fluffy snow draped the rooftops, sparkling tints of azure frost dappled the air like freckles on pale skin. The children continued their snowball fight, quiet crackles of ember chimed from the insides of restaurants and nearby homes. Lark and Nida stood near the antique shop where Lark bought the small novel in his back pocket, watching the snowfall. He looked towards Glimm Tower, was his sister gazing out at the same snowfall, right now?

"Yes, we would have enjoyed evenings like this," he said longingly. So many what-ifs ran through his mind. What if they were able to play in the snow together? What if they all grew a bit older together, went to the same school? Attended the same classes? What if their lives were completely uneventful? Their day-to-day lives boring, but peaceful. Lark had learned so much as a result of his family tragedies, pieces of knowledge most in the universe would never come close to understanding, Though his time alive was brief compared to most, he recognized the impacts he might go on to have in galactic history could be significant.

Was it worth it?

"Your family," he said to Nida, distracting himself. Snow continued to fleck his scarlet hair, a few flakes even found their way onto his pink, burned skin. Lark sipped on his wine, it helped to warm him up, though the cold never seemed to have any affect on him. Perhaps a year spent sleeping in the damp mud underneath the slums of Myrkr cured him of any ailments of winter. "What are they like?"

Nida Perl

 

[Nida Perl]

The snowy village reminded her of Midvinter.

Although Typha-Dor was more quaint that the bustling street of Thainbroek, it was similar enough to touch Nida’s memory. She’d been far happier then—wandering the streets with Thirdas Heavenshield , hand in hand as they navigated their way through his home. Growing up in an urban area, she found surprising comfort in the busy city, and solace in the quiet nights.

She was thankful that Lark sought to continue the conversation, lest she become immersed in rose-tinted memories she did not deserve.

Lark spoke of his sister’s location and what he had gleaned from their target. The simplicity of the mission was not lost on her—she’d seen Lark’s prowess in battle firsthand. If the guards were a non-issue, then she anxious to learn what role she’d play.

The pensive silence was broken with the impact of a snowball against Lark’s chest. Nida stilled, wondering if this small action would trigger the calm man before her into a murderous flurry. But Lark was gentle, shaping a replacement snowball and directing it into the child’s hands with the Force.

His question took her by surprise. Not that it was unexpected, given the natural flow of the conversation. It was Nida’s unwillingness to answer that made it all the more difficult. Everything she held dear had been a lie, or so she believed it to be. The corrupting influence of the dark side ate into her mind since that day on Yavin, making way for Kaine’s lies to seep into her conscience. Nida had always known that she was adopted, but to learn that her mother had stolen her from her true home, instead of extracting her from slavers?

Parts of it she struggled to believe, but the need to validate her actions made her desperate to cling to it as the truth. You were never a slave. Those were false memories, implanted by the Jedi to inspire dependence and make you weak.

Someday, she assured herself, she would not have to force those thoughts.

Still, she wanted to answer Lark honestly. So she tried to separate herself from them, but it was easier said than done. Spilling everything to him, on the eve of his sister’s liberation, would be both unkind and unwise.

“Happy.” It wasn’t the word she wanted to decide on, but it was the one with the most truth to it. “I was adopted, but my brothers and sisters did not let me feel as if I had been. They are…loud. Protective, and passionate.” For the first time since her defection on Yavin, Nida smiled at the recollection of her siblings, a small, sad upturn of her lips. She held no ill will towards them, in fact, she wished them all to be safe and happy. Her smile fell just as quickly as it had come. “The woman who raised me…she was warm and affectionate. I wanted for nothing.” Nida could no longer use the word mother for her. She was the monster that had ripped her from her real mother, from her father, from her home.

And yet, it was hard to completely shake the years of love and bonding they’d built. Nida had always looked up to Joza, finding comfort in the Perl matriarch.

“I’m sorry.” She shook her head, face flushed at the sudden realization that she’d been bragging to Lark about her happy childhood when he’d spent his in squalor. Her shoulder’s slumped and she pulled the neck of her cloak up a little higher. “You’re…different than the last time we met.”

Lark

 

[Lark]

Lark smiled softly as Nida described her childhood, snow continued to drape across the lovely town like a comforting blanket. He could sense such melancholy sadness within her, but perhaps sharing their stories with people who knew that same sense of lonely despair might help. Their origins were nearly polar opposite, Nida lived in relative comfort and security while Lark never knew when his next meal would be or if his brother would return from school alive. Despite that, Lark would not say that his childhood was any less happy than hers. At least before his sister was kidnapped. His siblings laughed together, played together, loved each other.

He just wished he had more memories from that time. Even the names of his family members eluded him. Lark wondered if his brother or sister remembered his true name, or if that too had been permanently lost in those murky, harrowing swamps.

"You don't need to apologize," he said gently. In truth, the fact that her family was so close must have made Nida's departure unbearably difficult. She was now going through the very same hell he had experienced when his siblings were ripped away from him. The child that played and laughed and loved his brother and sister died under that bridge, and in the ashes of his hometown Lark was born. Would Nida fall down the same path? "Living in the slums of Myrkr certainly caused many a nightmare, but when I played hide and seek with my brother, or read a storybook to my sister, I wanted for nothing either. As far as anyone could tell, I was the happiest boy in the galaxy."

Was, Lark thought, as he finished his glass of wine, setting it on a nearby diner table. He'd experience that alien sensation again, in its true form. "The Sith are not the warmest family. We're a chaotic, dysfunctional, temperamental band of power-hungry misfits and monsters. But I truly hope that you can find solace in our ranks. I've shared many drinks and laughs with grunt and Lord alike, I trust that you will too. And know that if you ever need anything, you can call on me. Not because I feel any debt towards you, but because I consider you my friend."

Nida's comment about his shift in behavior did not come as a surprise, but despite that Lark felt a small twang of guilt. In truth, he felt as though he were lying to her in some sense. His behavior shifted so radically depending on the situation he was faced with, he struggled to keep all of the personas whirling around in his mind like the most violent of thunderstorms under control. This gentle, kind mask he wore now was just one of many he masqueraded around the galaxy wearing. Nida had not met the bloodthirsty hunter, the malevolent trickster, or the infernal scholar. And the most terrifying of all his personalities, the monster that convinced his mother to commit suicide and burned down his hometown once he was left all alone, that beast was the kindest of them all. Lark wasn't sure Nida knew any of that. About how many thousands of people were slaughtered or turned to ash because of him. About how many people Lark had manipulated, transforming them into the same monster he truly was. He had so desperately sought to gather the remnants of what had been taken from him.

And yet he had ruined countless lives.

"Many others have said the same thing. It may sound a bit strange, but I'm not sure I have any true 'self.' Something happened once my brother was abducted on Myrkr, something that broke my mind into innumerable little pieces. Since then I've shifted from one persona to the next, whichever one fits best with the scenario I'm faced with. This person you're talking to now is not the same one that trained within the halls of Bastion, or the one who studied eldritch tomes and infernal abominations so religiously. My mind just... changes."

Soon, Lark would unite all of these masks and finally create his new true self. But what form would it resemble? What marks would be made on his mind before the unification was complete? Would the monster inside him take control, as it did on Myrkr? Was it speaking to Nida even now?

Or was this truly one last shred of decency within him exposing itself?

"Out of all of those facades, I wish I could live with this one a bit more. This is... nice."

That would never happen.

It was perhaps a frightening thing for Nida to learn about him, if she hadn't glimpsed those aspects of him already. His story was one of blood and death, of nightmares and anguish. And yet, it was still only just beginning. Once he was in complete control of himself, only then would his true journey commence.

There were just two loose ends that needed to be dealt with.

The tower his sister was held in grew larger with every step the pair took. "We're nearly there," he said timidly. It felt like some sort of fairy tale. Lark truly hoped the ending would be a happy one.

Nida Perl

 

[Nida Perl]

It hadn’t occurred to Nida that a child who grew up the way Lark had—in the slums—could be happy. If ignorance truly was bliss, then Nida had that stripped from her at a young age. She and Lark were kin in more ways than she was comfortable with, strangely unified by their individually traumatic childhoods. Nida could not openly divulge her own troubled past, but Lark spoke freely of his own. Of the events that lead to his fractured mind, the personas he moved between, splinters of who he was meant to be as a person. What a tragedy. Nida could not imagine living in a nightmare where your own character was that fleeting.

She quietly marveled at his resilience.

When Lark spoke of friendship, she lifted her head to look at him with wide eyes. It was a relief to hear that it was possible to find solace in the Sith, so perhaps her choices would not be in vain. One day, all this would be as natural as breathing. Nida would be her true self, at the cost of what had been holding her back. Inhaling deeply through her nose, the Zeltron filled her lungs with sharp winter air. Aware of her status as a tiny, doe-eyed sylph, Nida was constantly wary of being tricked. It had been difficult for her to lean on anyone since Yavin.

Exhaling slowly, her eyes absently drifted to her feet, examining the tightly laced boots she wore as they meandered through the town. “Something changed for me while I was on Yavin.” Her brow furrowed, recalling bits of her conversation with AMCO . “I don’t know if the Dark found me, or if I found it, but-“ The words died in her throat, wondering what she intended by that. Shaking a few snowflakes from the crown of her head, she continued, softly as ever. “I’ve since discovered my biological father to be Kaine Zambrano.”

As much as she’d believed The Emperor when he’d told her, Nida had purchased an independently produced DNA analyzer for the purpose of confirmation. “I believe you’re the first person among the Sith that I can call a friend.” A pause. “I like this side of you. Please don’t change, Lark.” A selfish request to be sure. But if this Lark was genuine in his nature, then she appreciated him.

The tower had started off so distant, and suddenly it was upon them. It loomed above them in a startlingly ominous manner, and Nida had to tilt her neck back slightly for her eyes to reach the top. The nerves in Lark’s voice surprised her, and it triggered Nida’s reflex as a healer who often comforted the injured.

“I will follow your lead.” She spoke evenly, lifting a hand to squeeze his shoulder. The gesture was brief, and soon her hands joined together, clasped demurely in front of her.

Lark

 

[Lark]

Lark had come here for the sole reason of finding his sister, he had made so many attempts by now that failure at this point might have driven him to ruination. But with each passing flake of snow, he was more glad to have Nida by his side. There was a small part of him that wished the tower was farther away, so that they might have just a few more moments to talk as they were. To rummage around folksy antique shops, or enjoy some tea underneath a snow-covered balcony. Peruse around rustic libraries, or just find a nice trail and enjoy the frost.

Maybe one day. But he could hear his sister's voice searching for him. And that was a call he could not ignore.

Out of all of his Sith companions, and he did truly consider them all companions, he knew each of them had some sort of ulterior motive. He didn't blame them, for he had his own selfish motivations that needed tending to. But Nida was different. If she was playing him, using him for some purpose unbeknownst to him, than she was a far better actor than the most skilled of thespians. Lark felt as though he could trust in her, confide in her. That terrified his current persona. And enraged most of the others.

Perhaps it was their oddly mirrored childhoods the created this bond between them. Not knowing the true secrets of their family until recently, and having to grapple with the cruel realities they were now faced with. For nearly a decade Lark thought his brother had abandoned him. And when he learned of the horrible truth, that he had been abducted just as their sister had, the revelation nearly broke him.

So too was Nida's family a lie. He wasn't totally familiar with her own story, but he sensed betrayal in some tragic form. The divulgement of Nida's true parentage, The Emperor of The Sith Empire, Carnifex himself, hardly caused a sway in his step. It was a surprise, that was without question. But he never had any room to judge anyone for their familial ties.

"I believe you're the first person among the Sith that I can call a friend. I like this side of you. Please don't change, Lark."

I'm not sure I have a choice in the matter, he thought, staring at the ground in front of the steel gate. He knew in the coming days his mind would permanently alter, and there wasn't a gambler in the galaxy that would be willing to bet on what form it would take.

When she placed her hand on his shoulder, Lark found himself standing up a little straighter. He was reminded of the moments of hope from his childhood. Pushing his sister on a swingset, holding her in his lap as he read to her. Clinging tightly onto his brother underneath that bridge, knowing that as long as they were together there wasn't anything that could stop them. It was a strange feeling. One he had nearly forgotten existed.

"Sometimes it feels like the weight of the world truly is placed on your shoulders. It suffocates you, drowns you with wave after wave of unending misery. And yet, look here." Turning from the gate, he motioned towards the town they had just finished waling through. The children continued to laugh and play in the snow, students close to the same age as Lark and Nida shared hearty meals and drinks, reminiscing on stories from their misadventures together. All the time making new memories. It was like there weren't wars brewing across the galaxy. "They're all living the life everyone dreams of. And yet, are we foolish enough to believe not a single one of them has ever struggled? I'm... admittedly not quite sure where I'm going with this," Lark said with a laugh.

"I suppose what I mean is, I know what we're both facing seems insurmountable now. It consumes our mind, plagues our dreams. And neither of us are wrong to think this way. But that doesn't change the fact that we do what we can anyways. That we do what we must." Lark's smile was as warm as the sun, and as joyous as homely tavern songs. He looked down at Nida, who was understandably timid. "This is real, Nida. This is possible. And I truly believe that one day, we're both going to find the peace we're searching for. Think me a fool and perhaps I'd agree with you. I choose to believe it anyways."

He then leapt from the ground, using the Force to balance on one of the cold iron spikes on top of the fence. There weren't any security regiments patrolling the area at the time, so he wasn't worried about being spotted. "I suspect my sister to be held towards the top of the tower, somewhere near the kitchen or Lady Glimm's personal quarters. As I alluded to earlier, security should be a non-issue. We should remain a tad cautious, but I also think my sister would want us to have a bit of fun rescuing her."

He look a longing look at one of the highest windows of the tower, and he knew his sister was there. Yes.

We do what we must.

Snow continued to fall, tickling his skin. From the top of the iron gate, Lark offered a hand down towards Nida. From there they'd travel across a few rooftops leading towards the tower, before deciding the best way to make their ascent.

Nida Perl

 

[Lileas]

Pruned hands vigorously scrubbed a dish underneath steaming water, though the servant hardly felt the burn as little droplets splashed up onto her arm. She was almost finished cleaning the entire kitchen, a feat she was forced to undertake by herself. All that was left was one little stain on a plate. But after several cycles of scrubbing and rinsing, the stubborn little smudge still tainted the fine, intricately designed dish.

"Please," Lileas whispered, plunging the plate back into the water once more. Lady Glimm had requested her presence, and though she was the noblewoman's most favored servant, that wouldn't always protect her from the woman's wrath. If she didn't finish cleaning, she'd be working the stable for a month. If she was late for the meeting, she'd get a few dozen ladle strikes to her hand. So she scrubbed as hard as she could, clutching the plate with intense focus. And as she fiercely rubbed the plate, it snapped into dozens of sharp little pieces.

Blood dripped down her wrist and into the water, onto the floor and her clothing. "No... no! This is not happening. This can't be happening." She turned a knob on the sink and drained the murky water and soap, then quickly found a towel to clean her wound. How had that happened? Strange things had been occurring around Lileas for quite awhile now, though she did her best to shroud those events from the rest of the servants and Lady Glimm. After binding numerous cuts on her fingers and wrist, some worryingly deep, she assessed the damage in the sink. The plate was ruined, covered in wisps of watered-down blood.

Lileas fell to her knees, and suppressed a woeful sob. Everything was going horribly wrong, but she suppressed any emotions tried to burst out from within her. Crying, laughing, screaming, smiling. All of it- muted. She wanted nothing more than to be able to laugh and weep, but that's not what her purpose was.

After cleaning up the mess she had made, Lileas hurried through corridors once filled with pristine marble pillars and shimmering chandeliers. But all that opulence had faded, the colors grew more dim for every year Lady Glimm aged. After ascending a few spiraling stairways towards the top of the tower where Glimm's quarters were, Lileas braced herself for whatever punishment was coming. She hadn't been tardy in years, what would Lady Glimm have to say?

After finally reaching Lady Glimm's door, Lileas was surprised to find a man already there. That's the doctor. He's been seeing her every other day now. Has my Lady's condition worsened? She clasped her injured hand behind her back, she didn't want the doctor noticing and asking any questions.

"Ah, there you are," the aged man started. "Lady Glimm had hoped you would sing for her, but during my visit she had a coughing fit and had to rest. I've given her some medicine that should help with the irritation and lull her to sleep. She trusts that you've cleaned the kitchen well, and has given you the rest of the evening to spend at your own leisure. Good day, then."

"Goodbye," Lileas responded meekly, guilt gnawing at her. She'd have to deal with this tomorrow. Turning down the hallway, she strode over to her personal room. It was little more than the size of a closet, and since it was near the edge of the tower it got dreadfully hot during the summer months and chillingly cold when winter came along. But she still preferred that to staying in the servant's lodge. She opened a little rustic window that let her look into town, and let a bit of snow blow through the curtains. Lileas had always loved the snow, the cold was a soothing reminder that not everything was as harsh as the lava mines on Kadavo.

Lileas could hear distant shouts of merriment of joy coming from the town. She wasn't permitted to go there often, even when she could visit the stark differences between the lives the townspeople and her own confused her. What was it they were doing? I do have the day off. Lady Glimm is asleep, maybe I could go...

No. I cannot allow myself to get attached. That type of yearning would only bring pain.

So she sat on her bed, and let the snow rest on the windowsill. Bringing her legs to her chest and resting her chin on her knees, Lileas listened to the lull of laughter and tried not to imagine what it was like to be a part of the festivities. Instead, she repeated the words her brother had spoken to her while their parents screamed and shouted at each other. Their older brother tried to calm their parents down as best he could. Lileas remembered he was crying, which wasn't like him. And then her other brother took her in his arms and said those magic words. The words she told herself everyday spent in the mines of Kadavo, after every beating and punishment she endured under Lady Glimm. The most treasured memory she had.

Tomorrow will be a good day.

Lileas didn't know why, but after repeating those words thousands of times for over a decade, she felt as though this time it would finally ring true.

Nida Perl

 

[Nida Perl]

Nida couldn’t shake the feeling that, no matter how welcome she was, she still felt very much like an impostor. She was simply some half-baked Sithling, a former Jedi masquerading around in a set of clothes too big and baggy to be convincing.

“….we do what we can….we do what we must."

If Lark was plying her with kind words, then Nida didn’t want the illusion to disperse. The Sith may practice cruelty, but she’d learned that many of them had humanizing facades. From what she could tell, Lark was genuine. But she could only tell so much.

As Lark leaped atop the metallic spine of the gate, Nida cranked her head back and shielded her eyes from the drifting snow. He was focused on the peak of the tower, and in the silence, Nida swore she could feel the Force thrumming from her companion, and something pulsing back from the Glimm estate. Nida reached up to take the proffered hand, feeling Lark lift her atop the gate and then guide her across the rooftops.

“Fun?” Her nose wrinkled in confusion, eyes flashing in worry. “What sort of fun?” Jedi missions weren’t intended to be fun, and she could only imagine what Sith considered fun.

Then again, they were here to confront his sister’s captors. If Lark wanted to give them a taste of revenge, then who was she to deny him?

Lark

 

[Lark]

From the moment Lark stepped foot onto Typha-Dor, he had started the initial plans he had for dealing with his sister. Every step he took, every question he asked Nida, was just another part of his scheme. There was a song that had been playing for over a decade, and Lark and his siblings were dead in the center of it all. He had felt it coming for so long now, Lark knew that finding his siblings was his destiny. He'd find them, wrapped in the cold, with tears in their eyes. Whatever role Lark would play in the galaxy depended on two things: His brother and his sister. If he had a calming book by his side, and a warm fire, he could sit by his window while the world went to war. So long as his family was right there with him. He'd let all the stars explode in the sky, a miasma of destructive forces, just so long as his siblings had a smile on their face.

Lark was a truly wretched person. He believed in nothing. "I've never believed in the good nature of the Force," Lark began. "I know, Nida, whatever you might say to me, that you do believe in it. Somewhere deep within you, you still believe in it. But if I were to ask that benevolent Force one thing, it would be not to intervene when it came to my dear sister. Don't touch a hair on her head, leave her as she is. If she must truly be guided by some interventionist entity, then direct her into my arms."

"No, I don't believe in the existence of any deity. But if they were real, I would summon them no matter what their own wills desired, for their needs are subservient to my own. And I'd ask them to watch over her."

But could they keep her safe from me?

Lark held Nida's hand, and lifted her from the metal gates to the frosted rooftops of the stables and kitchens. His feelings for her were strange, reminding him of what it might have been like to have a sister. There had never been anyone among the Sith he had truly cared for. There were accomplices, mere figures that would aid in strengthening his own power. Soldiers that were fun for a drink or two, but quickly lost their appeal. But he cared for them as much as a child might care for a roach they found on a sidewalk. Forgotten mere moments later. And yet despite the fact that this was merely the second time they had ever truly spoken, Lark truly wished the best for Nida. And he knew he could never offer that.

Killherkillherkillherkillherkillherkillherkillherkillherkillherkillherkillherkillherkillher, the monster said.

But Lark only laughed at the monster, and its pitiful attempts to influence him. He knew that Nida was not meant for the Sith. But he knew even though she was not meant for this order, that he had provided her with a bit of warmth. Maybe, he hoped, that he had taken a bit of the trouble away from her eyes. "Nida," Lark began. "This is the moment, this is exactly where we were born to be. I'm ready. Finally, I'm ready."

"My sister is waiting for me."

But he knew, once he took one more step forward, he would never be the same person. The Lark Nida knew would die, replaced by an entity as unknown as the most enigmatic alien. "This song that has been spinning for so long has reached its end," Lark said, and a choir of angels seemed to echo his words. Nida was nearly forgotten.

"Nothing matters," the boy said. "Nothing really matters. The world I once loved is gone." He laughed gently, and whatever sanity was left threatened to abandon him entirely. Even if he rescued his sister, did he truly believe that he could save his brother too? He had accepted his fate. He wanted to cry. His family was gone. Even if they all lived, they'd be warped beyond recognition. Just as he was.

There was nothing that could save him. He had ruined everything.

No, a part of him thought. Nida still stands by my side. I can still fix something. I can do something right. The monster still sought to destroy everything, and the boy thought all was lost. But Lark still stood firm. Lark could take it all. He'd force the stars to collide, make all of the most wicked beasts bow down their heads before him. He would take away his sister's pain. He'd only be by her side for a moment, and then they'd never be together again. But he would take away her hurt, and give that little girl the life she always deserved.

It was for the best that Lark would never be a part of it.

"If all goes as I believe it will, I'll have a gift I wish to give you once this is over. It will be a heavy burden, one you are free to decline. I wish things could have been different, but this is the way the galaxy turns." He looked at Nida, together they stood at the bottom of the tower. Lark could feel his sister, just a few stories above him. "I know you have painful feelings towards your family. I've felt that before. When you leave the Sith to see them again, give them my best wishes, if you find yourself able to face them again." His gaze was warm, yet distant. Comforting, yet somehow aloof and faraway. Familiar, yet impossible to connect with.

"Don't let your family fall like mine has."

And then he leapt up towards the top of the tower, bouncing from one ledge to the next. The slick wall was a pitiful obstacle, the snow was silent as stone as Lark made his ascent. His heartbeat was steady, this spinning song was almost over. The angels would not stop singing, though their song would end soon enough.

He crested the window, and saw her standing there in her little closet. I need you, a part of him thought. But as he looked at her, he sensed her pain. All of the suffering she had been through on Myrkr, Kadavo, and even here on Typha-Dor. That little girl that he had carried on his shoulders, and pushed on the swings, and read stories to, she was gone. That innocence she possessed wasn't present anymore.

And then she turned, and saw him for the first time in ages.

Finally, they were together again.

Nida Perl

 

[Nida Perl]

This quiet town wasn’t meant for the anticipation building around Lark. In the same vein, this quiet town wasn’t meant to house the shattered life of a young woman. Family was one of the few core tenants that anchored both Lark and Nida to this world. And so, whatever happened to this quiet town would happen.

When Lark looked to Nida, confusion crinkled in her eyes, highlighted by the stark gold outline against the vibrant indigo of her irises. A trickle of resentment caused her muscles to tighten. Who was he, to think that she would leave the Sith to return to the family she had abandoned? Was her resolve really that poor?

She found herself without words for Lark, and soon enough her neck craned upward to follow his slender form as he ascended the tower. Nida exhaled shortly and began to make her way after him. With an expenditure of effort and some carefully placed footing, the petite Zeltron landed quietly on a frosted ledge just below the window. Extending an arm to steady herself, she looked up to Lark and was nearly bowled over by raw emotion emanating from just a few feet away.

From her angle, she could spy the partial outline of a delicate face staring from the other side of the window. Although the gaze was not directed at her, Nida instinctively sunk into a crouch, feeling as if she were intruding on an intimate moment.

Lark

 

[Lark]

The boy and his brother travelled with a heavy load. The former carried a weight of dewy lumber that would not burn on his back, and the latter carried his brother in his arms. Their father normally performed this dull labor, but the man was out and about, conversing with the men that stayed in the building the boys were warned not to approach. Alleys away their mother cooked for unworthy patrons, vile creatures who made the role of a waitress seem like a catastrophe. Hurled drinks and perverse insults were exchanged instead of comradery and good-natured jokes, the taverns of Myrkr were not locales of friendship. No, this was no place for children. And here the brothers were, trying to lighten the weight that dug into their parent's shoulders. Despite their youth whatever dreams they had were broken, nothing but sorrow seeped from their brows as the sun set.

And then she came.

Still a child. Still innocent. The boys collapsed onto the damp floor, skin clammy and rotten. And yet their sister made them warm. It wasn't right that any of them face such horrors. But if they did so together, perhaps they might survive. "I know that you hurt," she said in a voice much more mature than it should have been. "The sun sets, but when dawn comes, you will rise."

"Beyond the sunrise. Maybe that's where we'll live."



Lark didn't know where the memory came from. Was it the remnants of some vestige of nostalgia within him, or was it caused by the wine? His mind was so shattered he could not tell for certain. It was as though a part of them had continued onwards into whatever ethereal realm awaited the dead, and the rest lingered here within the disturbed realm of the living. It was impossible to tell which of those fractures were the more fortunate. Parts of their childhood rang out for the memories of the other, but those calls were not answered. Even though they had saved each other's lives, today they were little more than strangers.

But this was the moment, this was where they were born to be. All upside-down and inside-out, but this was the final verse that their song had been building towards. Her skin was moon-blue like the stars, and infinitely more beautiful. That's my sister, Lark thought. He shed a tear upon seeing her skin, scarred with pink burns just as his was. Why couldn't he have taken those flames for her? Lark shared his sentiments with the boy he once was on Myrkr, a bizarre sensation. Lark had never had any family. And here he was, shedding tears over his sister.

Unfortunately for the boy, Lark was the one in control. The boy that once knew this little girl was grasping for air. The monster, that Nameless Prince, he too succumbed to Lark's will. Lark was something else entirely. Not even an amalgam of the two. No wonder his sister looked at him in confusion. She recognized his face, knew that somewhere deep within him their was an unending kindness. But neither remembered the other's name. They were no longer the innocent children they once were. Too much had changed. It was as Lark feared.

He was too far gone. But his sister could still be saved. She could still live a life worth saving. At the end of his days, Lark might die a nameless monster. And his sister might never know who he truly was.

Yes. One day, Lark would die. And he knew, once that day came, he would die alone. No family by his side. There would not be a friend to hold his hand or cradle his head in their chest. Lark was reborn alone, it was only fate that he would perish in the same manner. He had been thrown into this galaxy to be abandoned. He would die forlorn and forsaken.

Snow pattered upon the windowsills as Lark approached his sister. His sister. Yes, he was not the boy he once was. And she was not the child that once gave warmth to he and his brother. Tendrils of pain wracked their flesh like a parasite, but Lark did not care because he had a sister. And she did not care because after so many years, she had been reunited with her brother.

"Brother," she said, tears welling up in those sweet eyes. "I've been waiting for you." His dear sister was sobbing, stuttering over every other word. "I've been waiting for so long. I knew you'd come for me." She took a moment to breath, wiping her tears with a sleeve made of rough fabric. Through her tears, she sounded relieved. "You told me it would all be ok, do you remember? Mommy and Daddy were fighting, and brother pushed us inside our room to protect us. And then you told me that everything would be ok. You told me that tomorrow would be a good day!"

Lark knelt in front of his sister, he had not intended for tears to caress his scarred face. But nevertheless, his tears fell. How could they not, considering what it was he was about to do? Lark embraced his sister, hugging her as tight as any good brother should. So long. It had been so long. Now, after years of searching, Lark held his sister within his protective embrace. If he was selfish, he would have held his sister forever.

But it was not meant to be. Anyone who knew Lark was destined for pain.

Best she was left unaware of the whole charade.

"Dear sister, you've sensed my love for you even when I was nearly a galaxy away. You know that no matter what transpires, I will always love you. You've been a guiding force, a beacon of hope. I've made many missteps, innumerable mistakes." He could not explain what is was that he had become without causing her undue grief.

"The next time I see you, I fear I'll be someone else entirely. More monstrous than I am now. But if the stars that we've both fallen from deign it destiny for us to meet again, please know that no matter what form I take, there's a part of me, however small, that still loves you."

His sister's forehead burrowed into his shoulder, crying a waterfall's worth of tears. "Please, don't leave me! I don't care what you've done. You're my brother, not a monster!" She looked into his eyes, and for a moment his corrupted golden glare seemed to shift to the soft blue-eyed boy he once was. "Beyond the sunrise," she said, searching deep into his soul. "We're both hurting. But beyond the sunrise we can find peace. We don't have to be in pain anymore. We can run away from everything that's happened to us."

Lileas was shaking in his arms. "Please, brother, let's run away from here."

"We can still be happy together!"

Lark reiterated the fact that he cared for his sister as he thought her a liar. She'd never know that he did what he was preparing to do because he loved her. But there was no one that could ever live a happy life so long as they knew Lark. It was for their mutual benefit that they each forget each other's existence.

He could not bear her learning what it was he had become. Lark could not explain why.

"I love you, sister."

"But you'll be happier without me."

Lark brought his fingers to Lileas' temple before she could scream in distress.

Nida Perl

 

[Lileas]

Lileas' mind rewound through her memories like a tape on repeat. Her brother was doing something to her, but she knew not what it was. His words had confused her, frightened her more than any of the nightmares that had plagued her for so long. He said that he was becoming a monster. That he had made mistakes. Fallen from heights so heavenly. This isn't right, he was always the best of us. He was always the first one to consul me whenever I screamed out in fear. Always the one to push me on the swing and play with me in our little yard. He sang and drew and cooked for me. He made me laugh and smile whenever our days grew dark.

"How could I ever be happier without you," she whimpered. "Please, let me help you. Let me stay with you, brother. Please..."

And then the memories started to disappear.

First, her memories on Typha-Dor. All of the abuses suffered at the hands of Lady Glimm. Purple and black bruises covered her skin like an off-color chessboard, but now all of the pain vanished. Years of servitude, gone in but an instant. Night after night stuck in a draft closet overlooking a quaint little town she never truly got to appreciate. As those spectral images faded, new ones took their place. She had never been a servant. She was studying by herself on Typha-Dor, in her free time she enjoyed visiting a local bookstore and sampling new wines from a nearby winery. She wasn't quite old enough to be drinking, but the musicians and owner of the place valued her company and smuggled her a glass every now and then. Lileas' smile livened the place up, and when she danced in the snow the scene was one of pure merriment.

That's right, I've always had a pleasant time here. That violet wine is delightfully sweet.

And then her time spent as a slave within the lava mines on Kadavo vanished. Little more than a distant fog. The burns covering her skin were the results of an unfortunate cooking accident. A shame, but such incidents happened. Yes, Kadavo must have only ever been a bad dream. Her history of nightmares was forgotten, over a decade of horror replaced by feelings of melancholy peace.

For a brief moment, the visions of memories faded, and she saw herself face to face with a young man only a few years older than she. He seemed familiar, though Lileas could not say why that was. The man had a single tear gracefully caressing his cheek.

She knew him from Myrkr. That had always been the happiest of her memories. She felt a brief hesitation from the redhaired man, where exactly had he come from?

Lileas' thought back of the time spent with her two brothers. Both so gentle and sweet. They played together often, and their parents loved them very much. Her eldest brother was the most brilliant child she had ever met, and he would turn the world over to ensure his siblings were happy. Soft-spoken and shy, but colossal in presence. And the middle sibling, a child whose smile was so bright it put the sun to shame. Lileas' knew that he was a good person. She couldn't remember much else about him, but she knew he tried his best to make her smile.

It was such a shame her brothers died so young.

Her vision became unclouded, and she was face to face with the young, redheaded man once more. "What... just happened?"

There was a long moment of silence as the man regarded her. He was dressed in odd garb. And were they in the tower of Glimm Manor? How exactly had they ended up here?

"You took a fall," the man said with a songlike voice. "You've got a slight bump here, on the back of your head. That's actually a decent sign, your body is already healing. Put some ice on it for the next few nights, and you'll be just fine."

Lileas couldn't remember falling, but she appreciated the man's advice. There was something that wasn't quite adding up, but she'd figure that out once the pain subsided. The young man offered her a hand, and she gratefully accepted. "Thank you, sir. Perhaps I had one too many glasses of wine. Are you..."

Her words trailed off as she saw a liquid crystal fall from his eyes. Is he.. crying? She reached towards his cheek with a hand speckled pink with the scars of an old culinary burn, and wiped his face clean. "Are you alright? What's your name, perhaps we can walk to town together? There's a folksy plaza just outside the gates of the manor. If I'm remembering right, there's a wonderful little coffee shop right by the stream. We could sit and chat for a while, make sense of all this."

The man shed another tear. "I'm sorry, I'm afraid I must be going." He avoided her confused gaze, he didn't even have the generosity to grant her his name. With a quick turn, he left the tower. "I wish you well. May you find the peace you deserve."

And then he was gone, and Lileas was alone in the tower. She did not know what the next step of her journey would be. There was a great confusion surrounding her. Something was not right. She mind was muddled, and she could not stop thinking about that boy as he walked away. There was an unimaginable, endless, loneliness echoing around him.

And then, a voice she had thought long gone rang out in her head.

He may have left us alone, but pillars of light will still grace the corners of our minds. Find your path, little one. He is not yet lost. When the sun rises, our family can still be one.

Tomorrow will be a good day.

That's right, Lileas thought. The voice was not that of the younger of her two brothers. But she knew, prior to his death, that he had said those words. She did not know what her path would be.

But she would honor her brother's memory.