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024. HELL OR HIGH WATER
( —Any means necessary, regardless of any difficulty, problem, or obstacle.)
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As the lifeless, cerulean sky started to set on Nevarro, so did the grief.
Not for Din. A full two hours of her passing, and the shock for her mourning had not subsided. It was as if there was no beauty left in the world to appreciate, the pain hitting out of nowhere when even the littlest of thoughts doubled him over.
It only worsened when another ship entered the sullen atmosphere of the hunting lands, resting its whirring engines alongside the Razor Crest. The ship was a T-65 X-wing, the one that had vanished ages ago when the Rebel Alliance had dissolved into ashes with the Empire.
The Mandalorian held the child tighter to his chest as the entrance hatch dropped to the basalt and two, dark-clothed figures sauntering out. A woman, bound in a stygian uniform that was tighter than knots, and a man, in brigandine attire, as if going to war and cloak matted with fur draping his shoulders.
King Hyllus was a force to be reckoned with, paramountly sovereign. Honing his obsidian sabre in one hand and sufficiently recuperated, he stopped in front of the Mandalorian with a frown that was set in stone.
All he said was, "I apologize for the way I behaved the last time, Mandalorian."
His mind couldn't work fast enough to provide an answer, allowing silence to take the field.
"I know you only had my daughter's well-being in mind."
Every memory of her played like a melody in his head, repeating until it felt like forever. It was as if he had lost the biggest part of himself, everything had tied into one tight ribbon and it had been her. But, she was gone—vanished into the smouldering abyss and left with only the grief. He thought it was the single worst thing to feel but it took a while for him to realize that in reality, it was just a painful price to pay for loving someone. For loving a witch.
