In the annals of Kaleesh history, there is not a leader more respected than Qymaen jai Sheelal. There are many things that mark the youngest khagan to sit on the throne of Kalee as a formidable leader, but the crowning jewel of his reign is his clos...
Song: "Bounty Hunter's Pursuit" from Attack of the Clones OST
She swung around. Stabbing the first Yam, she signaled to her pages. "Jump!"
The three soldiers exited the temple and tumbled through the thickets of trees. Ronderu grabbed hold of a branch, swinging gracefully down to the sandy beach and letting the crystals break her fall.
Her voice came out strangled in her throat. "Where's Khagan Sheelal?"
"I don't know," one said. "I don't see your other page either."
Click-click-click.
Ronderu backed up toward the water. Please, love. Get here soon. Her lungs closed. "Battle positions."
The mantis-like Yam'rii bolted from the tunnels like a swarm of angry wasps, rushing toward the soldiers. Ronderu's breathing sped up as she flipped onto one, cutting its throat, and dive-bombed another.
But she was too slow. She was not strong, and she didn't have any snipers. And the Yam'rii were pushing her closer and closer to the sea.
"Fall back!" she shouted.
But before her pages obeyed her command, Qymaen and his troops bolted out of the northern exit. He fired at his own swarm, the violet bursts of slugs cracking past the hard outer shells of the Yam'rii to land on their soft insides. She tried to call his name, but a carapace whipped and crashed against her forehead. Blood stung her eyes. Blinded by the pain, she sliced off the appendage.
The water rose to her ankles, then her knees. Another carapace knocked her sword out of her hand. Hisss. The snipers shot at the Yam'rii, but Qymaen was too far away to reach her.
And they got brave. One reached forward. Green swarmed in her vision. Tearing agony filled her hand; more on her leg.The Yam'rii stepped forward. Another carapace slashed across her lower stomach. A scream wrenched itself from her mouth.
From the trees, a woman dived into the ocean. Ronderu glimpsed Qymaen, fighting his own group, and he gazed toward her with immense torment in his eyes. His sobbing punctured the air as he raced toward her, to save her....
And she plunged underwater.
✺✺✺
"Retreat!" Qymaen bellowed at his troops, but his eyes were on the ocean as he rushed to the trees to escape the Yam'rii. He'd watched her fall beneath the water. He had been right. He had been right. Every drop of blood in his veins froze into pure stone.
Her fall played before him over and over, accompanied by an incessant hum. The Yam'rii hungrily followed suit to eat their prey.
"You can't go out there," another page said. "She's long gone. I'm so sorry, Your Grace."
No more kisses, no more dances.
No children.
No more battles together, no exploring the stars, no sweet smiles.
No more Ronderu.
His dreams lit ablaze like old parchment as the rhythm of his heartbeat, once a melody of love, turned to the pounding of agony. "No," he said firmly. "She's not gone yet. I'm going out there to save her."
"Your Grace-"
But it was Qymaen who was pulling off his headscarf, stripping down to his linens and leaving his mask behind. The thick braids that trailed down his back were mimicry of the black braid he would caress once he retrieved her battered body from the sea.
Even if he found her, she would be dead. But he couldn't allow that thought to infiltrate his mind. Not yet. Not now.
He gazed at the ebony waves of Jenuwaa and jumped as far as he could outward, diving in.
✺✺✺
The sea shocked icily into his body, and the salt dug into his injuries as he swam deeper, deeper, trying to catch a glimpse of her blood or her body in the ocean. Desperate for it, willing to drown for it, craving it as if it were a drug. Ronderu, please. Speak to me.
Her swords flashed beneath him. His hands caught hold of them. The breath in his lungs burst, and he began inhaling water. Red spasmed into his vision. His body grew icy.
And he was coughing on the beach. The page that had gone out to retrieve him squeezed his stomach and forced the water out of his lungs. He collapsed on the sand, letting the starry grain flake his hand as he vomited acid into the water.
He gazed toward the sea. "Where is she?"
"Your Grace," she said coldly, "she's gone. They ate her-she's a skeleton on the bottom of the ocean."
"You lie," he snarled. "Leave me."
She flinched, but obeyed his command. Qymaen prostrated himself from the billowing wound in his chest, letting the water lap over him. A horrid ripping sensation tore from his body: the severing of their bond. No more feelings, no more spirituality, and no more Ronderu. A bond like that could only be truly severed through death.
A part of him still refused to believe it.
After a long while, he found the words-frigid and painful, like icy knives plunging into his throat. "I will not give up on you. I will travel to Abesmi and hold you one last time."
If he had been looking out on the horizon, he would have seen a ship diving close to the water to rescue the dying khaneme, but he was melting in on himself, his heart in his stomach, and he was small. So small, just eyes and a mind and a heart, rejecting the truth.
◈◈◈
Did you know....
● Unknown Soldier states that after her death, Qymaen felt as though his soul was bleeding out through a gaping wound in his chest.
● The Yam'rii wanted to enslave the Kaleesh because of their crusade across the galaxy to strip the Wild Space worlds of their resources. They were also introduced to the saga in 1979 when A New Hope came out (the mantis-looking alien in Mos Eisley Cantina).
● The song above is "Somewhere" by Within Temptation. Quite fitting for the current situation. Take some tissues. 🧻🧻🧻
Tell me what you think....
● What would you do in Qymaen's situation?
● Can he move on, or will he continue to cling to his grief?
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