(we’re destined with sorrow
but such beautiful things on the edge of tomorrow)
She stands on the edge of the cliff and looks straight at the setting sun, wincing slightly. Balmorra is under her feet, broken and tethered, acidic and ripped apart by war.
She stands in the tall dry grass that reaches her knees and tangles with her armor pads.
Another day is gone. Just another...
She closes her eyes, as the views of burnt Temple of Coruscant are playing under her eyelids - views that are now crowding all holochannels.
(there, right there, in the middle of the fight and fire, conquering enemies that once did same to Korriban, there, in the eye of a storm, awashed in glory and fear, she is supposed to be there - )
This would be a perfect birthday gift, she thinks, as her dry chuckle falls into the dry grass. She was usually gifted weapons or jewellery. For her fifth birthday she got her first dagger - a small one, almost a toy, fitting a child's hand and intricately decorated. For her seventh - ancient family amulet. For tenth - grandmother's necklace and bracelets, still too heavy for her to wear. For thirteenth - a relic-looking saber.
At fourteen she went to Korriban Academy, and at fifteen she denounced her family. At seventeen, her Master took her as his apprentice, gifting her life, and there was never a present she could compare to that one.
Today she is as old as this war, and today, at the day of her birthday, war ends. What next?
The sky is still red, but not as blinding as before. One could see night creeping up the sky on the opposite side. She stands there a little longer, waiting for the sun to set, leaving only trails of fire behind, and goes back to the base, moving slowly through high grass. Just another day.
(And wars - wars never end.)