Inspired by a post on Tumblr: What if Ezra honored Kanan once a year the same way Iroh honored Lu Ten in 'Tales of Ba Sing Se.'
After years of bitter fighting, loss, and pain… It was finally over. The Emperor was dead, his final superweapon destroyed by the Rebellion. The senate had retaken control and had established a New Republic.
When the news reached Lothal, Capital City had practically exploded in celebration. As the final vestiges of Imperial troops fled the planet, civilians flooded the streets with screams of joy and cries of relief. The now-abandoned Imperial storage units were raided, and their ammunitions and explosives were now being liberally used as fireworks.
A few years ago, Ezra would have been among them. Since the day he was born, the Empire had ruled with an iron fist. Now, not only was Lothal free, the entire galaxy had finally been liberated from its grasp. On one hand, Ezra had never felt lighter, like a great burden had finally been lifted off his shoulders. On the other hand… his thoughts couldn't help but linger on everything he had lost. What this war had cost him.
Ezra was in a far corner of the city. Ever since the Tie Defender program had been discontinued, this sector had been abandoned. The program compromised, the Jedi Temple gone, the Empire had no reason to devote so many resources Lothal and had all but pulled out. The remaining Imperial forces had to devote all their remaining assets and time into trying to keep the local rebel cell from completely taking over.
Even the blackened wreckage of the fuel depot had remained largely untouched these last five years. The twisted and ruined metal was rusting, patches of moss and grasses had begun to grow through the duracrete.
And there Ezra knelt, in the middle of it. In front of him was a monument he had built four years ago. It was simple: a large stone sentried by two smaller ones. He didn't have Sabine's artistic skill, but the central stone had a pair of Jaig eyes and Sabine's starbird symbol painted on its surface. The paint would always fade away due to the elements, so Ezra made a point to repaint them every year. He would repaint the monument, then kneel and meditate, like he was doing now.
It the distance, he could hear the city celebrating, but it was distant and indistinct. It might as well have been a distant thunderstorm. It was soothing, like white noise, as he emptied his mind and found his center. He let himself drift into the Force on Lothal, to feel the thrum of the people's raw relief and bittersweet happiness. The Force itself swirled around him, whispering right right right. It had never before felt so content.
Then it brushed up against his mind, much like his master used to. And for a single moment, Ezra could feel him.
Dropping out of his meditative trance, Ezra opened his eyes and found that he was crying. The tears fell silently, a soul-deep pain pulsating anew in time with his own heart.
He reached forward, gently placing his hand on the stone in front of him. "We did it, Kanan," he whispered, his voice cracking.
"We won."
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