He wasn’t the prodigy everyone wanted.
In Fort Ypso, life was different. The icy temperatures and rough terrain of Vandor hardened its citizens with a frigidness that rivaled the misty blue mountains of the desolate planet’s backdrop. There was little warmth to be found, even as orange sparks ignited into starbursts and hot magma rolled from the droidworks inside the quant city of Ypso. He imagined leaving his remote home behind for Ajan Kloss would reinvigorate him; but he never felt lonelier.
The jungle planet’s dense forests and water-saturated atmosphere was acrid. It burned his lungs and he had an almost constant cough. Never had he longed so much for the cold fresh air of his home-world to fill his chest and electrify his senses. When he arrived at the Jedi temple, he felt outcasted and solitary, a small man in a big world. On Ypso he was a big deal, atleast amongst his circles. Algus Doll, the first of his bloodline to have such a connection to the force. But in the grand scheme of it all, was it really such an accomplishment? Was his father just a nobody? “A tinkerer that worked on droids. He could barely pay the bills.” Sitting, he drew lines in the dirt with a stick, girded by the darkness of his cave.
He had left the temple as soon as he had arrived, keen on suffering and surviving on his own accord within the Klosslands. With each step, he ventured to the far-side of the moon, caking his boots in mud while foliage ripped at his clothing and cut his pale skin. He yearned for the force to speak to him, to reassure him that he had a place in its webwork, to know there was a plan. But there was nothing. He was scared; of what, he was unsure. Was his master proud of him, or was he as much of a disappointment as he felt?
He waited. A day turned to weeks, then weeks to months. “Nothing.” His belly was full of Zymod flesh and staring at their skewered bodies across the firepit, he knew that there was little difference between the ease of which he consumed lizards and the ease of which the universe would consume him.
His lightsaber had begun to whine, protesting its wielder. It’s Kyber Crystal was cracked; it never belonged to him anyways and he didn’t care.
In Fort Ypso, life was different. The icy temperatures and rough terrain of Vandor hardened its citizens with a frigidness that rivaled the misty blue mountains of the desolate planet’s backdrop. There was little warmth to be found, even as orange sparks ignited into starbursts and hot magma rolled from the droidworks inside the quant city of Ypso. He imagined leaving his remote home behind for Ajan Kloss would reinvigorate him; but he never felt lonelier.
The jungle planet’s dense forests and water-saturated atmosphere was acrid. It burned his lungs and he had an almost constant cough. Never had he longed so much for the cold fresh air of his home-world to fill his chest and electrify his senses. When he arrived at the Jedi temple, he felt outcasted and solitary, a small man in a big world. On Ypso he was a big deal, atleast amongst his circles. Algus Doll, the first of his bloodline to have such a connection to the force. But in the grand scheme of it all, was it really such an accomplishment? Was his father just a nobody? “A tinkerer that worked on droids. He could barely pay the bills.” Sitting, he drew lines in the dirt with a stick, girded by the darkness of his cave.
He had left the temple as soon as he had arrived, keen on suffering and surviving on his own accord within the Klosslands. With each step, he ventured to the far-side of the moon, caking his boots in mud while foliage ripped at his clothing and cut his pale skin. He yearned for the force to speak to him, to reassure him that he had a place in its webwork, to know there was a plan. But there was nothing. He was scared; of what, he was unsure. Was his master proud of him, or was he as much of a disappointment as he felt?
He waited. A day turned to weeks, then weeks to months. “Nothing.” His belly was full of Zymod flesh and staring at their skewered bodies across the firepit, he knew that there was little difference between the ease of which he consumed lizards and the ease of which the universe would consume him.
His lightsaber had begun to whine, protesting its wielder. It’s Kyber Crystal was cracked; it never belonged to him anyways and he didn’t care.
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