Do You Dream of Me?
There was no possible way, this was happening. The Force would not condemn him, he had done nothing wrong!!! Why would it… Why would it take it’s fury out on Viktor?! He was INNOCENT- HE HADN’T EVEN DONE ANYTHING!! IT WAS MARCUS WHO-
“WHERE IS HE?!” Jayce snapped, managing to make two steps forward before a concerned female Rodian jedi gently grabbed his upper arm, preventing him from getting closer to Marcus. At first, Jayce was about to aggressively tell her off, but was extremely grateful when a loud WHAM came from where Marcus was standing. It happened so fast. Only a blur of movement. Vander. His massive body had pinned Marcus by the neck above the ground. Only one hand was enough to wrap around Marcus’s entire neck, the other clenched into a bloodied fist. A faint wet gurgling sound seeped pathetically from Marcus’s bloodied lips, his hands now barely gripping at Vander’s wrist. Only a single hit from Vander’s massive rippling muscled arms and Marcus was nearly concussed. What power he carried and nothing seemed able to stop Vander from smashing Marcus to a messy pulp. For a moment, Jayce hoped he would. AFTER he spilled where Viktor was.
Vander typically was seen as the playful peaceful giant of a man. Now, Jayce took a hesitant step back. This was a side of the Jedi, of life he was NOT enjoying. Black angry thoughts clouded his mind, the lingering hate seemed to knit and choke out logic in his mind. Like an infection, a parasite, it fed and festered. But much to his relief, that gentle flicker of light lurked just within reach. Somehow, though it was so incredibly faint, Viktor was still there. ALIVE. SO FAINT, SO FAR… but alive… The darkness virtually melted away in his own mind but… Perhaps that was not HIS OWN mind where the darkness lurked… Poor Viktor… The darkness felt so alone… scared… abandoned. Betrayed. Just the same emotions that blazing off of Vander in such strong waves it was terribly scary. Never had he seen such untamed fury before. This experience was not one he wanted to ever witness ever again.
A faint jerk made Jayce snap out of his thoughts. The Rodian jedi master, Laneet, was tugging him out of the way, as more enforcer guards quickly raced past. The enforcers were tailed by a group of Jedi Guards, a group of Jedi designated solely for protection and guarding valuable information and extremely dangerous prisoners. Extremely lethal and highly trained Jedi masters, who rank higher than even the Jedi Council, but on the caveat their sole jobs are defend and guard. Such as the loyal Jedi that constantly accompanied the Grand Chancellor Ambessa Medarda. There was no higher honor than that, BUT at that point that became your entire life. There was no room for anything else. And they had a much more pressing matter on their hands. VANDER. And unfortunately, even the Jedi aside from the Jedi Guards seemed prepared for Vander’s fury.
Loud screams and groans escaped when Vander managed to swing and toss off every single Jedi and enforcer that attempted to grab his arms and force him to the ground. Several of the master were thrown like rag dolls, tossed aside like they weighed NOTHING. To Vander, they literally were like AIR. The enforcers were first to stir and sit up, before the other Jedi followed suit. The Jedi Guard hung back, light sabers drawn and two bigger of the two Jedi Guard on the outskirts of the group lowered long spear like weapons in their hands in Vander’s direction. All Vander gave in response was a soft mocking scoff, eyes resting on Jayce, before his body went rigid. How instantly his gaze softened, before he sighed loudly. In a single motion, he dropped Marcus like a limp droid to the ground. A soft thunk, as Marcus flopped limply on his side, before slowly struggling to his feet after about 2 minutes. It was extremely satisfying to watch Marcus FLINCH at the sight of Vander leaning down to mutter something to him, his eyes wide with wild and unruly fear.
“You, are so lucky that a child is present, Marcus. And that you’re the only person who knows where Viktor is. Otherwise, I would have GLADLY smashed your head to a pulp.” Vander spat, before standing to his full height. Now, Vander’s eyes narrowed at the Jedi Guard all cautiously surrounding him. Neither seemed to want to make the first move, but Vander didn’t yield and surrender himself. A stalemate. It was a perfect cover for him…
The shallow narrow little world and understanding of life seemed to have been ripped in half, split apart. Everything that he once knew, all seemed to be a false lie. About the Jedi Order, about the idea of wanting to be a Jedi… All the ideas and images of the pure and just Jedi Order, protecting the weak, upholding Justice. The Council doing what was best for the people. Not just brushing aside the problems of the people, the war. The way they treated those beneath them like mere mindless pawns, not caring who ended up hurt or dead in the process of the gains, their power. Or how they simply turned a blind eye, to those who truly needed their help… How they lied in the faces of those begging for help, whispering pretty lies, before sweeping the REAL problem under a beautifully woven Piltover Rug. Just like they had done to Viktor. Just a small little problem. Swept under the rug. Forgotten. Discarded.
Realization slowly crept into his mind, as he carefully twisted his arm. The gesture made Laneet jump, as her arm turned with his, making her face scrunch in pain. With enough turning, her grip loosened and a swift but sharp TUG Jayce managed to jerked his arm free from her grasp. Laneet’s face went from anger and pain to shock and fear when she watched him turn and run. Too late, the jedi and enforcers realized. Jayce was small, but one thing he was. AGILE AND FAST. Within a few seconds, Jayce had cleared the distance between himself and Marcus.
With a swift kick, Jayce had snuck behind Marcus who just managed to stand himself back up and kick in the back of his knee. The knee buckled, forcing Marcus to one knee, and Jayce took the opportunity to grab the front of his robes, forcing Marcus’s face close to his own. Fear flickered on Marcus’s face, as he stared into Jayce’s golden eyes. Blazing righteous fury. That was all he was met with, and some violent shaking from Jayce’s small body. Though he was small in stature, he was a lot stronger than he looked. The shaking was enough to actually make several nearby Jedi tentatively take a step towards him. It only fueled his desire to get all his fury out on Marcus BEFORE they could actually stop him. He’d have to make it count.
“WHERE IS HE?! WHERE IS VIKTOR?! WHAT DID YOU DO WITH HIM YOU CLANKER LICKER?! ANSWER ME!!!” Jayce screeched, his shaking voice growing more intense.
The scene made even Vander turn and stare, an equal expression of pain and sorrow making him look several years older than he was. Even Vander himself had to close his eyes and turn away, unable to watch this. All the adults had given up on Viktor. But HE WOULD NEVER. VIKTOR WAS ALIVE. HE KNEW IT. HE HAD TO BE!
The hateful the screaming earned him only made his anger burn hotter, as he felt the Force nip at his logic, coaxing him onward. ‘Do it, end him. Make him suffer for your pain. For your loss…’ It said softly, and he felt his fist slowly unclenched. Before he could command to Force, a firm but furry gloved hand gripped his wrist tightly. A solid jerk pulled his grip free of Marcus’s robes, and Jayce struggled. There was no real fight. Though the hand was smaller, Jayce felt his body refuse to respond, like some unforeseen being was sapping all the fight right out of his body through the touch. When he turned to strike the assailant, his master’s fierce and angry blue eyes met his own. Disappointment. And wrath. For once, Jayce refused to yield.
“WHY AREN’T YOU DOING ANYTHING MASTER?! HE STOLE VIKTOR FROM US!” Jayce barked, making the others within earshot of the scene all focus on them.
The bristling of Heimerdinger’s fur grew, as his eyes narrowed just slightly. Never before had Jayce seen such anger directed at HIM, but he didn’t care. All that he knew and understood, was one massive lie. And the biggest liar was leering up at him. His own fucking Master. How could he just sit and ACCEPT THIS? AND SO CARELESSLY?
“JAYCE TALIS, GO TO YOUR BUNK AND STAY THERE. I will handle this. You are in HUGE TROUBLE. Master Laneet, please escort my padawan back to his room. I must have a SERIOUS discussion with MARCUS.” Heimerdinger’s tone is grave and serious, casting a deadly glare at Marcus. Defiantly, Marcus raised his chin at the look. The flicker of remorse on his face was gone.
A single step forward from Vander made the entire room take a step back. Except Jayce. All except the guards and enforcers, whose guns and light sabers were now drawn. They would not take prisoners when Grand Master Heimerdinger’s life was in jeopardy. A small hand raised, making the weapons lower slightly. Vander’s rueful gaze was set firmly on Heimerdinger’s. Hatred. Bitterness. Betrayal. It was like staring into a mirror, Jayce thought. How desperately he wanted to run to Vander, beg him to take him with, take him to Tatooine… Together, they’d find him easily… Though, something seemed to gently pull his attention, just for a single moment. The Force swirled around him for a second, and just for moment he swore it spoke. But unlike Viktor, he could not understand it the same way he did. The message was unfortunately lost on deaf ears.
With a loud huff, Vander glowered down at Master Heimerdinger. Even Master Laneet seemed hesitant to move, in case she needed to run in to protect Heimerdinger. Despite the circumstances, Heimerdinger stood his ground, his chin up but not in a defiant manner. The deep biting expression of regret lurked deeply in the growing bags under his eyes, the newer wrinkles lining his face. He knew. He knew what was coming. There was no escaping it now. Even still, Heimerdinger was attempting to carry as much of his shredded dignity as he could through this mess. An uncomfortable minute passed, before Vander’s shoulders slumped, a rough raspy exhale slipping past his lips. Not for a single moment did Heimerdinger move his eyes from Vander’s. A test of will? Or respect? No… No it was out of fear. By the time Vander raised his head, the room seemed to react instantly without a word. It didn’t need to be said…
“WE… are going to go to Tatooine… Find Viktor and I will keep our alliance. Under the condition, Viktor leaves the Jedi Order and remains under my protection. If he’s NOT found, your Jedi BETTER NOT cross into our territory, otherwise we are gonna have some fancy new light saber trophies.” Vander stated. It was not a discussion. Heimerdinger blinked once, his gaze cool and level. A hint of cruelty slipped into the undertone of his voice, as he stared patiently into Vander’s pale blue grey eyes.
“Even if years later, my dear padawan Jayce were to cross your path? You’d slaughter a boy you had known? Either way, we need to organize search parties and scouting ships immediately. DO NOT DWAWDLE I SAID MOVE, ALL OF YOU! JAYCE. ROOM. NOW.” Heimerdinger barked, his once cool and collected gaze ragged and even wild.
Frantic. The hangar sparked to life, jedi master clambering to their ships, and bringing anything useful for a search and rescue mission. Before Jayce could even think about bolting to his master’s starship, a firm hand wrapped itself just under his left arm. A gentle tug pulled him back, heading towards the padawan bunks. The motion of going FURTHER from Viktor made his heart shatter further, tears welling up in his eyes.
“NO- NO MASTER PLEASE! LET ME HELP- I BEG YOU!!” Jayce pressed, voice cracking at the end. Desperation seemed to weigh him down, the Force pulling him the same direction as the other Jedi, to Tatooine. Yet, the expression his master gave him made him lose all faith in the Jedi that day. The look of defeat, with the barest hint of tears. The vision he had previously… He already knew. That son of a bitch-
“I am so sorry Jayce, but you must remain here… I promise we will do our best to find him…” Heimerdinger said, before turning and making his way to his starship, head hung lower than normal.
Despite his thrashing and struggling, Master Laneet managed to get him all the way to the entrance of the hanger, just long enough for Jayce to catch a glimpse of Vander and Heimerdinger’s star ships take off into the inky black abyss beyond. The only sound Jayce could hear was the soft sad twinkle of the stars and the rev of starship engines flaring to life before jumping into hyper speed. All he remembered after that incident was Master Laneet needing to carry him to his bunk, where thankfully Master Anu was waiting anxiously. It had taken some convincing, but Master Laneet hesitantly agreed to let Anu keep an eye on Jayce while she joined the other Jedi in the search parties. With a curt bow of the head, Laneet turned and left the two alone to grieve.
All the strength he had left was to fling himself into Master Anu’s arms and sob. The gesture caught her off guard, but she gently wrapped her arms around him, her own tears mixing with Jayce’s. For painfully silent hours, they wept together. There were no false words of encouragement. Neither could bring themselves to speak the lies they knew the others believed. Unfortunately, the news of the fiasco travelled like wildfire through Piltover, and the Council. Master Anu had shut down the library, as she and Jayce eventually moved to that space, away from prying padawan and jedi gazes, the soft nosy whispers. Personally, it was probably more for Jayce than herself. And for that he was eternally grateful to Master Anu. Together, they watched in growing hopelessness as the star ships slowly began to return to the city.
One by one, the star ships began to trickle back into the city. With each passing ship, every passing hour, their hope waned. Bit by bit. The only reason search parties came back in a trickle was because they weren’t able to find him. With heavy hearts, Anu and Jayce watched the skies, and with each passing hour their fears only grew deeper and heavier. Minutes turned to hours. Hours turned to days. Days turned into many anxious and tense visits to the hangar, only to be met with the averted gazes of jedi masters and enforcer search parties. Each second that passed, every look that didn’t meet Jayce’s gaze, a bit more of his soul and heart died.
The final straw had broken the Banthas’s back was watching Master Heimerdinger’s ship slowly sail into the hangar, without Vander’s Firespray battle ship accompanying it. And when the ship’s cockpit opened, to reveal only Heimerdinger, with a devastated expression. The entire hangar seemed to collectively grow silent, all eyes focused on the empty ship. The Jedi within the area bowed their heads in sympathy and as a moment of silence for the lost padawan. The world seemed to stop once more, as Heimerdinger slowly and defeatedly left his ship’s main compartment. Unlike himself, he did not meet anyone’s gaze as he walked. How firmly his stare was fixed to the ground was horrifying. By the time Heimerdinger finally stopped his solitary march, he was standing before Jayce.
Once more, Jayce’s face was growing damp, but he didn’t seem to have the strength to even show sorrow on his face anymore. It hurt. It all hurt far too much. This was far more than he could reasonably bear. A tense and uncomfortable silence hung between them. It felt like no one else was in the hangar, and it was simply master and student in the entire universe, lost within time and space. Oh so slowly, Heimerdinger raised his head, to gaze into Jayce’s golden eyes. The once brilliant chipper and ever exuberant gleam in his eyes was gone. There was no spark within the gaze that met Heimerdinger’s sorrowful eyes. As he dreaded, instead of losing ONE padawan, the jedi had lost two. The full of life and vigor Jayce Heimerdinger was so boastfully proud of was gone. Nothing but a shell seemed to stand before him, eyes almost staring as if he didn’t even exist. There was an expression on Jayce’s features even Heimerdinger couldn’t place, with over 300 years’ worth of experience.
With a shaky hand, Heimerdinger reached out and set it gently to rest on Jayce’s shoulder. No reaction. Nothing. That stare didn’t falter. Nothing, nothing but sympathy, sorrow and grief. That was all that Jayce could feel anytime he came near. THEY DIDN’T EVEN CARE ABOUT VIKTOR… THIS WAS CRUEL, AND HE HATED IT. He hated being a Jedi now. More than ever. JUSTICE? HONOR? TRUTH? PROTECTING ORDER AND THE WEAK? THEY STOOD FOR NONE OF IT. Bitter anger and hatred began to well up in Jayce’s chest, his blood feeling warmer than usual. There was a soft tremble in his body, when Heimerdinger finally spoke.
“I am… so truly sorry Jayce….” He said, ears drooping fully. “We did our best to locate him, but even with the Force and the best Enforcer trackers we have, we weren’t able-… able to find Viktor…” He finished, his voice cracking at the news. There was a rigid and chilled silence. No more tears ran down Jayce’s face. When he met his master’s gaze again, there was resentment and hatred brimming in his eyes.
“Jedi… are supposed to UPHOLD JUSTICE, THE TRUTH AND ORDER… And yet, I see an ENTIRE CITY full of beings who don’t even know what the word PROTECT, JUSTICE OR DEFENDING THE HELPESS MEANS. I thought the Jedi were honorable, a noble group to protect those whom cannot protect themselves. Yet… I see nothing but LIES, FALSE IDOLS AND TYRANNY. Where was the justice when Marcus was verbally abusing Viktor?!” Jayce SNAPPED, taking step towards Heimerdinger, whose eyes widened in shock. Everyone nearby was now staring intently at the scene. The fear and unease in Heimerdinger’s body language drove Jayce’s hateful words further. There was no option for mercy anymore. They didn’t show it to Viktor. This clearly was the Jedi way. Even if he had to do it alone, he would become what the JEDI SHOULD HAVE BEEN TO HIM. A PROTECTOR. A SHIELD, AN ALLY. A friend. A loved one. A partner.
“Jayce-…” Heimerdinger said, his voice wavering. Tentatively, he took a step back. Jayce took another forward; eyes now alight with a fierceness that DEEPLY worried Heimerdinger.
“Where was that protection when Viktor had come to you? What about Master Anu? Laneet? Rikets? Ryker? Who was there to pick him up when he had been so badly beaten and broken from brutal trainings? Where were the JEDI, WHOM ALL KNEW ABOUT THIS MISTREATMENT FOR VIKTOR WHEN HE NEEDED IT?!” Jayce pressed, now forcing Heimerdinger into a wall. A loud gasp escaped Heimerdinger once his back hit the wall. A stern glare slipped onto his face, before he retorted.
“I UNDERSTAND, YOU are grieving Jayce. But I am STILL your master, and the Grand Master of the Jedi Order. I will not deny that this WAS MY FAULT. But do NOT disrespect the other Jedi in such a tactless manner, as they have not done anything wrong. I take FULL RESPONSIABILITY for Viktor’s disappearance and I shall never repent for it. And I must carry that guilt with me for the rest of my time. I am disappointed. In myself. For not reacting sooner. But the others hold no sway in MY NEGLIENCE. So please, do not go down this path. It is not the way of the Jedi.” There was a noticeable flinch when all that got was a scoff in response.
Defiantly, Jayce glanced around and made eye contact with as many of the people in the room as he could, before glaring back down at Heimerdinger. The killer blow welled up in his chest, and there was no stopping it from bursting free. This was no longer about himself. This SOLELY was for Viktor… And frankly, he was speaking the truth. There was no denying it.
“…. YOU, ARE NO JEDI. None of you are Jedi Masters… Nor will you EVER BE.” Jayce snarled, before turning and storming off, the hangar echoing the sounds of his footsteps. All eyes watched he stormed off, before all slowly shifting back to Grand Master Heimerdinger. A faint twinge of guilt flickered through him, but Jayce refused to acknowledge it. The way Heimerdinger’s face fell, and lowered his head nearly caused him to break. But his conviction of the loss refused to let him forgive. Without another word, Jayce turned and walked off. Anyone standing in his way shifted out of Jayce’s path, expression grim or baffled at his rash display. The room slowly shifted to Grand Master Heimerdinger, who bowed his head, and made his way back to his office. All without a single word. The hangar remained silent for several long minutes after his exit. The Force nor the atmosphere of the Jedi Headquarters recovered since that day.
**Several weeks later…**
Through the valiant efforts of many jedi and enforcer soldiers, Viktor was never found. There was no sign of locating the body either, as if he merely vanished from existence entirely. After many resources and time was spent, the Jedi Council ultimately deemed that Viktor was claimed by the planet and was not going to be found. In response to this, Grand Master Heimerdinger suggested in honor of the young lost soul due to negligence and ignorance, a citywide funeral be hosted in his honor. Though there was some reluctance, the Jedi Council agreed. With a Jedi wide effort, the funeral was immaculate. To Jayce, it was truly insulting. In Jayce’s mind, it only enforced how they even KNEW what Viktor wanted. Or if they had even KNOWN him at all. It made his blood boil, sick to his stomach.
And unfortunately, all “JEDI” were expected to make an appearance. And it was open to all of Piltover. Viktor hated crowds, the looks and dirty glances the people of the city would give him. Filthy Zaunite, rancid cripple. Gods, how much this hurt him. The Force was not doing him any favors. All the thoughts, emotions and PEOPLE were horrid. It all was wrong. Wrong wrong wrong. None of it would have been what he wanted. But they didn’t even ASK HIM, what he would’ve wanted. His BEST FRIEND. This entire city, no, the entire IDEA OF JEDI WAS A JOKE. The colors weren’t his favorites. Rusted red, golden accents and a dapper brown. The theme and colors of Zaun… Just another subtle jab of his PLACE within this community. Rather, the LACK of it. Truly disgraceful. DISGUSTING. PUTRID. How this was even considered HONOR was beyond him… Deep shades of nearly purple shades of blue, like the night skies. With faint flickers and spirals of light blue hues. Just like a galaxy, slowly drifting it’s way through space. Those were his favorites… Not that Piltover cared… or bothered to know them for such an unfortunate event…
For a single cruel second, Jayce was glad Viktor was NOT here to witness such an insult to his name. One day, he’d give him a PROPER funeral. Small, limited to the few people to MATTERED to him. Vander… Master Anu… Heimerdinger wouldn’t be allowed anymore. A small grave nestled under a Weeping Tree, as they were his favorite variety of trees from Zaun. Right on the hill he said he loved to sneak to under the light of the stars and moons, where the night was so bright the area practically glowed. No need for a light source when the beauty of the moons illuminated his world in the most tranquil and delicate ways, he once told Jayce. Host it under all 4 full moons, when the flowers on the trees blossomed and fell to the ground, bringing the fauna of the planet to gather. Something quiet. Thoughtful. Peaceful. A place where life would gather, silent and calm. The order of nature. Small decorations themed like glowing stars hanging from the tree he rested under, along with a replica of the 4 moons.
He loved the moons… How vibrantly he spoke about them, the way his eyes would light up… The RARE times he actually sounded EXCITED AND PASSIONATE. That very rare smile Viktor wore, the way his eyes gleamed with excitement, the one without an ounce of fear. How VERY RARE that smile was for him to see… And how he’d never see it again… The… the same way his face would light up when he’d see Jayce coming after a long grueling day of training, a split second before Jayce had accidentally knocked them both to the floor, laughing. The way Viktor hoped he and Jayce could go watch the stars and moons, together side by side resting on the blanket Jayce had gifted him. And that small selfish hope Viktor would rest his head on his shoulder… Where he’d finally tell him how he felt… How much he LOVED HIM…
The memories hurt so much, as he stared out at the large event laid out before him. Large lavish tapestries flapped gently in the breeze, with a Jedi Padawan crest at the center, perfectly framing a large decorated image of Viktor, the one rare moment he gave a genuine smile. Framed, beautifully decorated in golden frame, all surrounded by extravagant bouquets of white, gold, red, and even some vibrant purple. There was a single flower, in a small vase of deep midnight blue, a rare flower from Zaun, rumored to virtually gone extinct. A Lurker Lily, it was commonly called. It was exquisite. It only grew at night, under the full moons, on the graves of the recently deceased. It was considered a great HONOR to have one grow over a loved one’s grave, Viktor once told him. It was a sign of the Gods, that the soul that was laid to rest was one of purity, great importance, and a great loss to the community. The sight of the flower nearly made him fall to his knees.
Viktor would’ve been over the galaxies to see one in person. The delicate petals seemed to cascade like water, the edge of it’s petals curling in on itself very gently. The barest hint of white glowing speckles blemished the petals, giving a haunting nearly starry night appearance. The base of the flower petals was a deep indigo, before it faded into an almost powder like residue that turned into a fading light blue. The leaves of the flower were jagged and tucked close to the stem, as if attempting to remain as small as possible. And the way it opened up fully under the lights of all 4 Zaun’s moons. What a beautiful gift. How tragically it matched Viktor… Jayce glanced around, attempting to catch sight of the person who had left such a perfect gift for Viktor. When his gaze caught two people quickly leaving, he nearly didn’t believe whom he saw.
Of all people he was EXPECTING, it was not Master Anu. That beautiful other Zaunite girl, Sky Young, was quickly sneaking back into the crowd as she attempted to hide her tears. But there was another girl with her, not a padawan. But judging from her APPEARANCE, she was absolutely among the very high-ranking families that work very closely alongside the Jedi Council and the esteemed Piltover Senate. The Piltover Chancellor’s daughter. Mel Medarda. Daughter of THE Chancellor Ambessa Medarda, sister to Kino Medarda. Kino was the presumed and rumored heir once Ambessa steps down from Chancellor of the Piltover Senate. It was virtually THE HIGHEST RANK just next to Grand Master Jedi. To even SEE HER, or any of the Medarda was extremely rare. But why would she and Sky be there?
The oddity of it drove Jayce to attempt to intercept them, but when he got into the thick of the crowd, they seemed to have virtually vanished. All he saw was the stunning golden markings that lined Mel’s undeniably beautiful body. Sleek, graceful, commanding and independent. For a single moment, Jayce felt his heart flutter, when he locked eyes with her the moment she turned and let his gaze when SHE was setting down the flower at the base of Viktor’s portrait. Commanding. Strong. Near golden sheen that reflected back. It was all she needed to stun him, before turning to Sky in a hurry and swiftly vanishing back into the crowd. The stunning white dress with a sheer black netting like lace covering her neck and exposed shoulders and with her dark regal hair all done in braids placed in an immaculately decorated top knot all vanished when she slipped a drab hood over her head and body and virtually melted into the crowd, like a whisper of a ghost. Even when Jayce did his best to pinpoint and focus on her undeniably strong and regal aura, it was no where to be found.
Dejected, Jayce slowly wormed his way to the portrait of Viktor. In comparison, the lovely but simple yellow Twisted Tulip flower seemed so plain and boring. The flower shifted lazily, the stem an intertwined mess of what seemed to be long snake like dragon necks all coiling around one another in a lover’s embrace. And from either stem two individual tulip heads, both bowed down towards the base of the stems almost forming a broken heart shape. They were Jayce’s favorites, the ones he just VAUGLEY remembering his mother picking for him as a very small child. How she asked him to remember her, though the sight of these flowers any time he was off doing great things for the Jedi. The thought made his heart clench.
Never even knew her. Not even her name… Talis, Jayce Talis was all he knew. And her love for Twisted Tulips. Though he could not remember her face, he practically could feel the disappointment in her gaze. Of his failing to do good. Failing Viktor. Failing to be what a JEDI was SUPPOSED to be. If only she knew, he was equally disappointed in himself. For not trying harder. For failing him. As gently as Jayce could manage, he placed his flower right next to the Lurking Lily, and a small gasp escaped him as the flowers seemed to notice one another. A slow but timid leaf from the Lily slipped over one of the Twisted Tulips, before a long but thin vine quickly reached out and coiled around the leaf that grazed the Lily’s base stem. Somehow, it felt like such a strong message. From the Force. They’d reunite. Someday. How vividly that memory was etched into his mind.
The sight made all those suppressed tears rise to the surface once more. As much as he hated it, he let his salty bitter tears fall onto the flowers beneath him. The flowers drooped faintly, as if weeping alongside him. A soft cough made Jayce flinch, whirl around and pause. Heimerdinger was standing behind him, with a set of navy-blue Nippers, a rather aggressive flower species of Zaun. Another one of Viktor’s commonly spoken of fauna. He DID remember. Anger creased Jayce’s features, as he turned to leave. The two had not spoken a word since the conversation in the hangar weeks ago. There was NOTHING to say. HE REALLY did NOT want to see HIM HERE. Not after seeing the image of Viktor, the last image of Viktor he may ever see. Before Jayce could take another step, Master Heimerdinger pulled out a sizable box decorated in the same colors of Viktor’s favorite blanket. How heavily Heimerdinger stared at the box made Jayce hesitate. The mistiness in his icy blue eyes seemed to fade after several beats of silence. Neither moved for several beats. Eventually, Heimerdinger spoke up, ending the tense silence.
“Jayce… I know, this is NOTHING like he would’ve wanted. But this… was suggested by the Council and the Chancellor herself. I am… PAINFULLY aware, this is… horribly difficult to be here. After all that happened. But the Jedi Council was hoping, this would be a symbol of… goodwill between Piltover and Zaun. Oddly enough, the attacks of the Piltover encampments on the borders had ceased. Though, I also agree this is… TASTELESS AND BACKHANDED… Of the Council and Piltover… And the Jedi themselves…. This was… The best I could manage for him. My dear boy, I cannot even be close to... express my sorrow and sympathies, nor will I even delude myself to even consider being forgiven for my… situation that unfolded… But… In some small way, I had this made… for you. So, you will never forget him Jayce. I am so, so truly sorry. I have failed you, as a master, a friend and a mentor. Most of all, as a Jedi. And, to Viktor I cannot even… I can barely utter his name without feeling sick to my stomach. By Janna, may he be safe and well… Hah, I fear my emotions ran away with me… Ahem. Here… I know this is… not what either of us wanted but… This is the best I can offer you as… a parting gift…” He said, hid voice wavering and eyes misting more and more he spoke.
There was a moment of hesitation, before Jayce very slowly accepted the box. Heavy. Something strong and metal perhaps? With a heavy heart, Jayce slowly tore through the paper, carefully scanning the box. It... looked like the boxes padawans were gifted when they received their first training light sabers, before they MADE their own… A faint twinge made him swiftly rip off the top of the box. All his tears began to flow freely again down his face. It was absolutely beautiful. An exact copy of it, even down to the small knicks and dents in it… Just the sight of it stung on a level Jayce was not aware could even fathom until this moment.
Within the box, it was an exact replica of Viktor’s light saber, with a fake blue kyber crystal, deep indigo like the night sky itself. It was heavy, and smaller since Viktor was smaller and frailer than most young padawans. To Viktor, when he first received it, he absolutely despised it. His exact words were how it made him feel weak, as he needed a smaller light saber than all the other kids, but the master who granted it to him assured it was for his own good unless he desired to end up dead due to the saber being too heavy for him to wield. Since he was nearby that day, noting the writhing look Viktor gave the master, had snuck a slug beetle into his food when he wasn’t looking. It was a few minutes later when Jayce HASTILY took Viktor’s arm and scampered off when they heard the frantic screeches of a very distressed jedi master echoing down the halls. And how hard they laughed at the sound.
How cruelly those memories rattled around his mind now. Like a sick twisted joke that he and Viktor were in the center of, perpetually trapped in a sick spiraling cyclone. Just out of reach, before he is whisked away from Jayce’s grasp once again. The mocking laughing faces of the Jedi Council, as Viktor is thrown into the sands of the storm before he just simply fades into the whipping winds of Tatooine. Only leaving that dark horrible shadow in his place. A cold sweat beaded his brow and neck, before he felt the cold bitter nip of THAT sensation prickle his whole body. The scene around him warped and twisted violently, the funeral fading into nothing but the laughs of the Jedi Council, and the snarling winds and lashes of the sand whistling past his body.
That horrid thin shadow opened it’s eyes, a faint yellow glow staring back at him, before solidifying. Tall, thin, almost REAL… How if he stared hard enough, he could make out every detail of their haunted, spiteful glare. Slowly, almost timidly, the shadow took form. Skin bone hair and a faint sigh, as the shadows slowly melted away. Like a moth shedding it’s cocoon before spreading it’s majestic wings for the first time. Now the Jedi Council was gone again, nothing but wailing screams as the shadow slowly dragged them into the sandstorm, kicking and screaming. The shadow, rather now MAN standing just a few feet from him didn’t even seem to notice. Their gaze was stuck solely on his eyes, his face. How different they looked; from the shy young child he once grew up with. Now a tall striking but extremely cold and calculated man. Even borderline CRUEL. The gaze the shadow man was bearing down upon him felt like it was literally boring holes through his skull and brain. Yet despite how terrified it made him, it was so… MAGNETIC. ENCHANTING. Hurt… Alone…
… When…. When did he grow up…. When did he himself…? When it happened, he didn’t know. But he was now towering over the shadowy being by at least an easy foot and a half, before he was brought to his knees. How in the blink of an eye, years seemed to just fly between the two, both himself and the shadowy being probably in their mid-20’s, easily. If not even LATE 20’s. The sight made his knees buckle, as he crumpled, all ability to even think leaving him. Greedily, Jayce’s eyes tried to take in every single small detail of the shadow being. The same one that had tormented his mind for… Gods… So many painfully lonely years…
Pale, so very pale skin, like the moon had kissed his knuckles and left behind it’s own light ashen colors upon his body. A slow, gentle hand slid it’s way under his chin, forcing him to look up at him, as he felt his body adamantly refuse to move. Much to his surprise, his body felt so much bigger, stronger and bulkier than he recalled… And his voice was MUCH DEEPER so much so he made himself flinch at the sound of his own voice. And how embarrassingly hot his cheeks were when a pained and longing whimper pathetically slipped past his trembling lips. The sound made the shadow jump faintly, expression shifting from shock to faint confusion. Before shifting back to that unfeeling scientifically detached scowl. The best way to explain that look was, BORED. The look was enough to snap some sense back into him, as if he could feel something just beyond his sight, his comprehension stirring angrily. It felt like he was suddenly more aware of his surroundings. Of himself… How he was deluding himself, yet again… Gods… Gods not AGAIN, he can’t keep DOING THIS…
His hands were now stuck in the sand, preventing him from touching this cruel phantom back. To throw his arms around them, bury his face in their thin pale neck. Fresh tears stung his eyes, as he stared up helplessly at the shadow now looming eerily above him. So close yet so far. Unable to touch. But unlike the many times before, the MAN gently slid a hand under his chin, before gently coaxing a faint whine from him when the man’s thumb slide just shy of his lower lip. A slow long shiver ran down his body, that cold sweat growing worse. This was wrong… He wasn’t real. Yet that hand, it was warm. Rough and worn skin as the man’s thumb gently grazed his strong freshly shaved chin. The gesture made him swallow audibly, as he bit his lower lip to fight off a second stray groan.
He hated this… HE HATED THIS SO MUCH- The phantom of his dreams smiled, a warped and predatory smile, his golden eyes transfixed on their amber golden gleaming eyes. Absolutely beautiful… The way the smile made the favorite beauty mark just under his eye shift faintly. Heat flushed his face yet again, as his chest rose and fell rapidly. Now his body reacting desperately to free itself from the sandy confines. A low cruel chuckle escaped the shadow’s lips as it spoke a single word to him. Low, melodic and thickly accented voice, was like a knife to his eardrums. A merciful but precise stab, just fast enough to prevent him from suffering more. That voice- How it rattled in his mind, threatening to stop his heart instantly. How real the touch of the hand was-
“Hello… Jayce…” It spoke, finger just grazing his lip. All Jayce could do was choke out a single word before reality came crashing around him. Almost mercifully.
“Viktor….” Jayce croaked weakly, before the world around them turned fully dark. All sounds and sights vanished, as a curtain of darkness dragged everything before them into nothingness. Pure, blissful silence.
A second later, Jayce sat up, gasping and drenched in sweat. He wasn’t sure, but he must’ve been yelling, as his throat ached. That dream. THAT AWFUL NIGHTMARE… Jayce glanced around, his room a barren looking common sleeping quarters within the Jedi Temple. He could feel his heart hammering painfully against his ribs, wanting to burst itself free from his broad and muscled chest. Gods… Why was that dream getting more… VIVID each time he had it… Almost 20 years, since Viktor had vanished… wow. He’d be 29 now, wouldn’t he… He thought made his heart throb. 20 plus years of his life, lost to the sands of Tatooine.
And the dreams hadn’t ceased since his disappearance… WELL THE NIGHTMARES HADN’T. The… embarrassing lust themed dreams were happening since he turned 20. THAT, WASN’T HELPING- A loud pained groan escaped his mouth as he covered his face in shame and disgust, feeling his face flush horribly. Sweat drenched the sheets under him, and once again he’d need to wash them. Not unless he desired to smell like sweat. Again… What was worse, he was running out of excuses to use why he kept needing to wash his sheets and bed wares on a daily basis. And learn how to shut down the burning cheeks anytime someone ASKED HIM about it… Janna, why were you such a cruel mistress…? He thought angrily.
For at least an hour he laid there, on his sheets feeling the bitter sting of hatred and longing claw away his sanity. That touch. That touch felt… REAL. REAL SKIN. It scared him, thinking his dreams were getting more torturous. More… detailed. Hungrier. More… STEAMY. PASSIONATE. EXPLICIT. But… He FELT IT. A REAL PERSON. A REAL PRESENCE… VIKTOR… Could he truly be ALIVE…? Slowly, Jayce rolled on his side and hugged his pillow, burying his face in it. This was all so frustrating. And none of it made sense. But little did he know, somewhere, lost in time darkness and emotions, the other person in the dream snapped awake as painfully and abruptly as he did. Separated by the distance of several galaxies. Though with a lot less grace and poise, but regardless. And neither was aware of the other’s true presence in the dream. The Force remembered. And both had felt it. Another being on the other side of that dream… And it terrified them both. One far more than the other.