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It almost seems impossible for a person to contain so much raw emotion. Enough to comprise an entire ocean or completely obscure a blue sky. Potent enough to set lush forests afire, and perhaps even lay waste to an entire planet or two.
But, one can possess sentiments so enormous. One can find themselves submerged in a bottomless sea formed by their unprocessed emotions. Desperately clawing at anything and everything in the hope of fighting their way back to the surface. All the while, suffocating beneath the crushing weight of an overfilled heart.
She knows quite well now what that feels like. She understands what it means to be torn apart into countless pieces yet physically be whole. She knows what it means to hear the deafening sound of her world crumbling right before her brown eyes. Knows the excruciating pain of witnessing a cherished reality shrivel into a heartrending illusion.
Because the inescapable truth is that one can shoulder the weight of immense feeling, but only for so long before becoming consumed by it.
Had it not been for her father figure, Sol, she might not have become so acutely aware of that unforgettable lesson.
He was supposed to be the one person in this massive galaxy who truly cared for her. Who prioritized her best interests and demonstrated commitment to being truthful in communicating with her. Someone worthy of authentic trust, free of deception. A firm shoulder upon which she could lean, if she chose to, during times of extreme hardship. A faithful guardian to whom she and her innermost wishes truly mattered.
But, for so long, she was seeing purely that which she wanted so very much to see.
Had it not been for her dear sister, Mae, she might not have seen or understood the cracks littering that facade. She might not have come to realize that she’d merely fit Sol into a gilded box of her own making. She might not have become conscious of the truth cowering beneath the artificial gold.
Sol deliberately lied to her about one of the most significant topics imaginable. He committed an unforgivable act and purposefully buried the fact so that he could ensure that she perceived him favorably. He clung to his treacherous secret with no intention of allowing anyone to pry it from his unyielding fingers. Had it not been for Mae’s persistence in seeking justice, he never would have loosened his grip. Never would have loosened his lips.
He claimed to have veiled the truth for her benefit. In actuality, it was for his benefit. Ironically, it was his own duplicity that finally drove her to the destination that he tried to prevent her from traveling to. His own failure to be honest convinced her to grant the resilient darkness in her heart permission to cease hiding itself.
Qimir was right about her seeing the future when she foresaw Sol’s demise. She suspects that it was hope rather than surety that he’d given voice to back then, within the intimate cave that sheltered them for a brief while. Whether he was willing to admit it or not, he hoped that his wayward pupil would return to the path from which she strayed. Nevertheless, hope or not, he was right.
Only, she'd been wrong. Blinded by preexisting misconceptions about Mae, she misinterpreted the vision delivered to her by the Force. She did indeed see Sol perishing, but not because of her sibling. She did not anticipate fulfilling her own vision. It did not occur to her that she had seen herself in that consequential vision until she stood there on Brendok, putting forth her best effort to come to terms with the horrid truth that Sol had kept beyond her reach. She’d gone there meaning to save him, but the terrible string of betrayal and a sudden thirst for vengeance collaborated to inspire her to do the exact opposite.
There are those who find pleasure in snuffing out the life of someone else.
She isn’t one of them.
Watching Sol’s facial features contort with anguish brought her no amount of gratification. It did not delight her to see her former mentor brought to his knees, eyes silently pleading with her.
She’d be lying were she to claim that killing him felt good. A lie that she will never tell, despite her soured opinion of him.
In that moment of wrath, she felt only her burgeoning ire and immeasurable hurt. Her beating heart was aflame, even as it fell to pieces from within the confines of her body. Her blood was boiling, even as glistening tears tried their best to escape.
Killing Sol did not feel good. It did, however, feel right.
Despite Mae preferring an alternative method of pursuing justice, she was joining her sister at long last in chasing after it. She was ensuring that Mae was alone no longer in trying to bandage the past and dole out punishment to those who dealt damage to their lives. As for the hostility that had prevented such unity from being established between them for so long…
Realizing that the festering resentment that she felt toward Mae for years was born from incomplete awareness, she found herself capable of casting it aside. After all, she never would have felt so aggrieved had it not been for Sol’s false pretenses.
Sol deserved his fate. He had only himself to blame. He dug his own grave, and it was time for him to lie in it.
Within her heart, she mourns only for the father figure she never truly had. The Sol that she presumed to know. Not the lying murderer Mae revealed him to be.
After all of his stern warnings about the Dark Side, she finds that darkness is not something to be feared. It is an integral part of her, and it allowed her to seek the retribution that she was owed. It cannot be willed away, and the prospect of shutting out a part of her seems wrong somehow. Due to that, she doesn’t feel as though she lost anything at all by forging the deal that she proposed to Qimir.
She still doesn’t trust him completely. It would be foolish for her to. Not only does she barely know the guy, but he’s proven himself to be adept at wearing masks. He’s notably skilled at crafting versions of himself with which he can beguile others and coax them into abandoning their defenses. Someone so cunning should be kept at arm’s length.
But, as long as she exercises caution, she believes that she can use his knowledge to learn to appreciate this part of herself that she endeavored to deny for so long. And, while shielding herself with that same caution, she can indulge the curiosity that he’s irrevocably piqued in her. She’s still intrigued by him, and she sees nothing wrong with acting upon that by better familiarizing herself with him. Cautiously.
Besides, what matters most about their deal is that it guarantees Mae’s safety.
Sitting here, with Qimir moving about somewhere nearby, prevents her from ignoring her pain when it demands her attention. Knowing that Mae remembers very little of her, if anything at all, hurts tremendously. If only circumstances had been different. If only she’d had time to properly make amends. If only she’d gotten to spend time with her loving sister and get to know her with hatred no longer being a gaping chasm between them.
If only, if only, if only…
She longs for another life, where they both could have lived together happily.
“You made the right decision.”
Startled out of her moment of reflection, she abruptly looks up to see Qimir now seated across from her. A kindled fire between them illuminates his face. It exposes the curiosity and interest residing within his fascinating eyes. Minuscule droplets of water occasionally descend from his dark hair, but he’s garbed in his usual obsidian attire.
“I know.”
She does. She knows that that imaginary life shared with her sister, where they can heal their inner children together, is just a fantasy. It will forever be one. She knows that, with that being an impossibility, this life that she’s chosen for herself is best.
Most importantly, this life is her choice.