EDIT: The following takes place before Kamelle was electrocuted to death.
Naboo. Hills, plains, swamps, mountains. If nature was a jewel then here it was, far more glorious than any Hutt could ever hope to conjure. In this world, Kamelle Skyler stood on the balcony atop a skyscraper nestled into the mountainside, gazing upon a sea and the distant shore on the horizon.
She had her own, had come to call it home, that freighter called the Wailing. It was a sea, it was a shore, it was nothing and everything more, and whatever that meant might one day be deciphered on her deathbed.
For now, Kamelle was content with gazing, staring ever forward in the hopes of glimpsing her future. What comes next? Her hands grasped the railing, tightened, suddenly concerned over falling over, but not afraid. Never afraid.
The Sith eschewed fear as much as embraced it, let it fuel their passions, but what passions could a person like Skyler ever possess? Only one in this world of worlds, this galaxy of suns, had ever truly come to understand the daughter. Even then, not much. And where are you now, brother?
Kayden Skyler was above the sky, blue as painted glass, dotted with white clouds so pale, and beyond that fragile illusion was the great expanse where her twin was surely marauding. Ever the reaver, ever the reaper, my flesh and bone and blood.
The sister had been no different, once upon a time; had sailed with him, soared beside him; fought beside him, flayed with him. Yet, when the Silence had split, when the Wailing caught wind, the two siblings had parted from one another, and there one stood alone.
Naboo, green glory, was beautiful and bountiful. I could…I could…could I…live here? Kamelle crossed her brows, felt one quiver, perplexed at this ‘feeling’, whatever it was. A breeze brushed her hair, as gentle as his fingers had been as they brushed her neck, cold and warm all at once.
She shook her head. Folly. Spat into the wind. Futile. No, she could not live here, could not stay here. She had business to take care of and it was not on this world. Time to go. Stealing one last look at the sapphire sea, the idea of leaping into it tried to steal her back, one hand locked on the railing as the woman turned around.
The hand was forced to let go. On her way out, Kamelle stepped over a headless corpse, another one; waved a hand to open a door so as not to touch a bloody handle; negotiated her way through a living room littered with the dead, with heads and arms and legs no longer connected, black red robes held above the blood where there were no burns.
She entered her ship and, as it left the landing pad atop the roof, the screams of the dead whispered into her ears like soft fingertips, and the Wailing broke the glass to join the darkness between the stars. Here where I belong.
She had her own, had come to call it home, that freighter called the Wailing. It was a sea, it was a shore, it was nothing and everything more, and whatever that meant might one day be deciphered on her deathbed.
For now, Kamelle was content with gazing, staring ever forward in the hopes of glimpsing her future. What comes next? Her hands grasped the railing, tightened, suddenly concerned over falling over, but not afraid. Never afraid.
The Sith eschewed fear as much as embraced it, let it fuel their passions, but what passions could a person like Skyler ever possess? Only one in this world of worlds, this galaxy of suns, had ever truly come to understand the daughter. Even then, not much. And where are you now, brother?
Kayden Skyler was above the sky, blue as painted glass, dotted with white clouds so pale, and beyond that fragile illusion was the great expanse where her twin was surely marauding. Ever the reaver, ever the reaper, my flesh and bone and blood.
The sister had been no different, once upon a time; had sailed with him, soared beside him; fought beside him, flayed with him. Yet, when the Silence had split, when the Wailing caught wind, the two siblings had parted from one another, and there one stood alone.
Naboo, green glory, was beautiful and bountiful. I could…I could…could I…live here? Kamelle crossed her brows, felt one quiver, perplexed at this ‘feeling’, whatever it was. A breeze brushed her hair, as gentle as his fingers had been as they brushed her neck, cold and warm all at once.
She shook her head. Folly. Spat into the wind. Futile. No, she could not live here, could not stay here. She had business to take care of and it was not on this world. Time to go. Stealing one last look at the sapphire sea, the idea of leaping into it tried to steal her back, one hand locked on the railing as the woman turned around.
The hand was forced to let go. On her way out, Kamelle stepped over a headless corpse, another one; waved a hand to open a door so as not to touch a bloody handle; negotiated her way through a living room littered with the dead, with heads and arms and legs no longer connected, black red robes held above the blood where there were no burns.
She entered her ship and, as it left the landing pad atop the roof, the screams of the dead whispered into her ears like soft fingertips, and the Wailing broke the glass to join the darkness between the stars. Here where I belong.
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