Prequel to Promises and Deals
ACT 1: The Age of Jedi [Episode I-II]
ACT 2: The Nameless Child [Episode III-IV]
ACT 3: The Age of Rebellion [Episode V-VI]
The lineage of Alora Naftiri in a way not seen before. This is the story of her life from befor...
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The world is a graveyard rapidly filling beyond capacity with lies spreading through corpses unable to defend themselves. Even the stars mourn the betrayal and the shattered Republic through solemn twinkles and burn-outs. Never had he seen so many stars combust on their own, snuffed out of existence in a flash.
His heart had always been able to separate duty from family. His brother and sister never shared the same space as his role in Alderaanian court or even touched the part of his soul reserved for his wife. Now, something prods at those dark parts, the parts he agreed to keep tucked away to protect the Jedi.
First, it was a fleeting feeling. Like falling from the sky through thin air, never slowing as the bottom drew closer and closer, but he never felt the ground. That was when Lorn knew something was amiss. It did not help that his senator had been dispatched alone to the Jedi Temple but managed to make it back alive.
It didn't take long for him to feel the second, larger, part of his heart wink out. Like a star, it had always burned fiercely in the background of his mind, urging him forward in ways he was not trained to act. He almost hadn't noticed when the fire disappeared beneath cold ice.
When he felt the frigid chill, he had raged aboard Senator Organa's personal ship, even with Aristeia by his side. It was uncontrollable, this fear that morphed with each passing second.
Mace, he could live without. Strong armed Mace who never failed to beat him in a wrestling match or remind him of how he could never possibly understand the Force. That Mace, he could mourn for a moment and move on.
But Lorn will never learn how to mourn the fire.
Aristeia and Bail had calmed him enough, but the ice is slowly melting in his heart. The fire has yet to return, to remind him of who he hopes will walk onto the ship with the other surviving Jedi masters as they risk retrieval.
Lorn and Aristeia sit together in a room off from the main hall of the ship while Bail goes to greet the Jedi. Lorn had been advised to stay away until they can get off the ground until they are safely away from Empire-ridden Coruscant. His wife runs her hands down his back, and normally, he would melt at her gentle touch, but the ice protects him from the warmth.
What-ifs run through his mind that he cannot believe. He cannot entertain the idea of that fire dying forever. It isn't possible for some clone or traitor to kill the fire. It will always burn brightly because it has to.
He barely notices when Aristeia stands to walk over to the doorway and peer into the hall. What does catch his attention is the small gasp that escapes her lips.
Calling her name softly, Lorn stands from the stiff chair and walks over to her, but she spins around and places her hands against his chest. "What is it?" He asks, hoping for a glance.
