Star Wars: The Last Qymaili | ✔

10 | A Fallen Star

Song: "The Droid Invasion and Appearance of Darth Maul" from The Phantom Menace OST

Qymaen spoke. "Light the fire and escape as it makes its way through the trees. This will be our best bet at forcing the stragglers out." His voice was frigid as Grendaju's wind, stern as the bows of that ship so long ago....

He pulled Tikhél, the scout who had gone on reconnaissance, aside. "My men will be outside once you make it down. As soon as you finish your flamethrowing, find me. That is an order."

Tikhél blinked, then looked downward. "Why are you concerned with my safety?"

Qymaen looked at her for an instant too long. Then he touched his thumb to her lip. "I admire your bravery," he said honestly. "I...." he swallowed. "I hope we meet again."

"I too, Your Grace."

A strange thought entered his mind. Would she care for me if I told her what to call me?

He ducked his gaze. "Call me Qymaen."

She smiled. "I like the sound." She turned to her troops. "Move out!"

✺✺✺

Qymaen ducked beneath the branches of the great oak. He couldn't tell from here, but he estimated that the moss-bathed floor was around twenty-two meters below. Vertigo sang through his body as he stepped onto a lower branch, spotting Tikhél and her troops swinging to a neighboring forest giant with frightening agility.

His hands shook—he could fall, crack his skull into a thousand pieces on the floor. Ronderu's cool voice ebbed to the front of his mind. Don't be afraid. The tree will catch you if you fall.

He fell into memory. Her hand reaches out to take his as he steps on a fat branch. The callousness of her fingers curled around his—her thumb stroking his. Those hands carry a message that words can only hope to fathom. "I trust you. I want you. I'll help you."

Qymaen pressed his forehead to his knee as he curled in the bosom of a swooping bough of bark. He stepped with a new certainty down the great tree—one branch, then the other. Ronderu's commands came back to him. "You must allow yourself to let go of what is in your mind—to look at something beyond yourself. Concentrate on the moment, not what is within."

The branch was in front of him, and his thoughts were behind him. The soft glowing light of a Yam'rii shack beckoned from beside him. Inside, the silhouette of a mantis cut out the warm glow—a shadow against the peace.

Qymaen forced himself to look away as he continued downward, away from the threat. Perhaps, now that they thought the war to be over, they would avoid him so long as he did not engage them.

At last, he reached the bottom, then walked along the ground. Iminec's winking light sprayed across the ground in glimmering rays of sunshine. The scenery hurt him, made him long for the days when he was alone in the woods with his Ru — instead of on the battlefield.

But he replaced the grief with anger. He would have vengeance for her death soon enough. His boots crunched across the dry leaves as he slipped unnoticed from the Yam'rii village and met his soldiers.

Generals Queru and Tarkha stood at the front lines. Qymaen nodded slowly to them. "Station your troops around the perimeter. There's a fence to mark the border." The women walked away to do as he said.

Now I must count on Tikhél.

He sat down in the cool sunlight, allowing the wind to wash over him, as he waited for the smoke to rise from the Yam'rii village. The capital of Abbaji Major.