Kyp braced both his hands against the balustrade, rivulets of sweat running down his bare torso. The sun sent warmth down upon his skin and yet he shivered, overcome by a coldness that the hottest fires of hell could not chase away.
His breathing eased as he concentrated on his surroundings, the Force showing him life in the nearby forests and within the Jedi temple. He could almost hear the younglings below in their classrooms, he could almost hear their groans at having to run another lap on the field – he could hear an exasperated Mara Jade cursing her ship in the hangar bay.
If he concentrated hard enough, everything seemed so clear to him. There was no grey, only black and white – a yes or not, a good and evil. Everything seemed so simple and yet, in the end, nothing ever was.
Kyp straightened up and took a deep breath, while gazing out to the green landscape that made up part of the planet Ossus. Mid day was beautiful – green grass with flowers blooming in wonderful bright colors; a cool breeze swept the treetops back and forth and he heard the rushing sound of water coming from the nearby river.
"Master Durron?" He turned to the small voice, surprised to see a young girl standing behind him. The doors towards the atrium were opened to just a slit – large enough for her to have squeezed through. She was tiny, barely reaching his hip but if his memory served him well, she was ten years old. A gifted Force adept, her specialty lay in telepathy and with that mouth of hers, she could talk anyone into giving up voluntarily. "You look sad."
Kyp smiled at her worried look, wondering what he'd done to deserve this little one's kindness. "I'm not." He lied. "I was thinking, that's all."
She wrinkled his nose at him and her eyes hardened just a little. "You aren't a very good liar, Master Durron."
Kyp wondered what drove this girl to such assumptions – correct assumptions at that. She seemed to be an avid observer, the first to ever speak to him of his own emotions. Kyp took care that no one knew of his true thoughts; at a young age, he'd learned that keeping to himself was the safest path if he didn't want to get hurt. It was a habit not easily shed.
"Shana, was there something you wanted?" Kyp asked in an even, low tone. He wasn't in the mood to argue with a child that reminded him so much of himself. He hadn't been tall when he was her age, a short scrawny little boy who had fought to live in the most dire of circumstances and situations. And while Shana had her Jedi family, he had had no one but himself.
I was a
wayward child
With the weight of the world
That I held deep
inside
Shana shook her head, golden locks jumping around her slender shoulders. "You looked sad and I wanted to cheer you up. That's all." With a little smile and a wave, she squeezed back through the glass doors. Before entering the atrium though, she turned back towards him and pressed her face against the cool, transparent surface. Her nose and mouth flattened against the glass – Kyp laughed at her quirkiness. She stuck her head through the slit and grinned at him. "See, I cheered you up." She waved again before she left him with his thoughts.
Shana was truly a precious child. It seemed there was nothing in the world that could catch her off guard; to every situation she had a come-back remark and she loved to banter with the grown-ups, saying she needed to teach them how it's like to be a kid. Because, unlike grown-ups, kids laughed, played and had fun.
Kyp leaned against the balustrade, staring at the stains Shana had left behind on the glass. She had so much to reach for, so many possibilities to grasp. He hoped that she would have an easy and simple life.
Lifting his dark eyes to the light blue sky, he took a deep breath. Thirty-five years to the day, his life had changed so drastically that even now, he sometimes awoke from nightmares. He had hoped that along the road, he'd find closure when it came to Kessel – by the Force, he'd seen more in his lifetime than anyone should ever see. Death and destruction, fighting an almost hopeless war, losing close friends he considered family…
The dreams revolved around Kessel. Sometimes he would see familiar faces, like Miko and Wurth, alongside him in the mines but he saw himself as a child. Always a helpless child trying to find its way out of the hell that had become his life.
Life was a
winding road
And I learned many things
Little ones shouldn't
know
Kyp pushed away from the balustrade and headed down a flight of stairs towards the training grounds. He heard the youngsters while they played a game on the field, watched as the older students went through a course of meditation. They looked like statues from where he stood, the majority of them not moving a single inch.
Except a young boy who, instead of listening to his instructions, sat down on the ground and made faces. Kyp smiled as he shook his head – there was always a troublemaker in each generation. It made teaching so much more fun and challenging.
Kyp hurried through the training course towards his own small quarters inside the temple. He could do with a long, warm shower and a decent meal before the council meeting that night. He grimaced at the thought – he just loved sitting around a table and talking politics with his fellow Jedi Knights. The best recreational activity he could think of!
He rolled his eyes as he entered the temple and hurried down the corridor towards the turbolift. His boots clicked lightly on the cold stone floor, the only sound in the hall. Stepping onto the lift, he leaned back and breathed a few times until the doors opened onto the level where his quarters were located. He greeted a few familiar faces on his way to his private sanctuary. Sparsely decorated, he felt comfortable here. There was nothing to distract him from his work, although sometimes he really didn't know if this was a good thing or not.
Constantly being reminded that he was a Jedi Master, a fighter – a warrior – wasn't always the best course of action, especially when he was in such a foul mood as he was now.
He'd hardly ever owned anything that meant something to him. If he had, someone would take it away from him. It started with a token of affection from an inmate or just a stone that resembled a figure from a fairy tale – the guards had taken everything from him, leaving him stripped from trinkets that might have brought a smile to his face.
Funny how one
can learn
To grow numb to the madness
And block it away
Shrugging out of his clothes, Kyp walked into the fresher and started the shower. He stepped inside, reveling in the feel of cold pellets running down his back.
He hated this anniversary. Every year he forced himself to look back to what had happened, saddened that his life had began the way it had but joyful at what he'd become over the years.
He remembered bloodshed in the mines, remembered how a few inmates disappeared. Some had hoped they had found a way to escape and in the end they had – they had died, an escape that Kyp had found unacceptable, even as a young boy.
I
left the worst unsaid
Let it all dissipate
And I try to forget
No matter what, Kyp would never give up. He wasn't that kind of person. Sometimes he wished he could forget. But wasn't that the same as giving up? Trying to eradicate the memories that make you what you are?
Life would have been nicer if things had gone differently, there was no doubt about it. And so life would go on, with these anniversaries hanging over his head every year, making him remember. Maybe remembering wasn't even so bad.
After a long half hour, Kyp turned off the stream of water and grabbed a towel from a rack on the opposite wall. Tying it around his waist, he walked back into his rooms and lay down on his bed. He wished it were night. The dark was soothing to him. Even while still on Deyer, he loved the dark. He had loved staring at the star speckled sky, watching as clouds passed before the bright white moon.
But I closed
my eyes
Steadied my feet on the ground
Raised my head to the
sky
And though time's rolled by
Still I feel like that child
As I look at the moon
Maybe I grew up a little too soon
Sighing, Kyp toweled himself dry before slipping into his clothes. He left his hair open, after manhandling the strands with his white, fluffy towel and carelessly throwing it aside. Food was next on his agenda – he was starving. After a ten mile run through the undergrowth of Ossus, he usually always felt like he could eat half the food in the mess hall. Problem was, most of the stuff was hardly edible. He was picky when it came to his food, one habit he did not want to shed. Thankfully, when he arrived in the mess, he was mostly alone.
"You smell good."
Kyp jumped as he felt someone poke him in the ribs. He whirled around and glared at Jaina Solo whose smile lit up her entire face. "Don't do that."
"Oh, come on. Be happy for a change. You've been brooding all day and it doesn't suit you at all." She pointed at his forehead. "You get wrinkles in all the wrong places, hence you look old."
"Thank you for that compliment."
"Seriously. Will you smile for me? Just for a second?"
He scowled and shoved past her, his stomach growling to be fed.
"For a micro second then?" Jaina said, catching up with him. "Just a tiny little lift of the lips. Like this." She grinned at him, exaggerating her point, which made her look like she could eat a banana sideways.
Kyp rubbed at his brow and for the life of him, he didn't know why the muscles around his mouth moved on their own accord. He found himself smiling at his long time friend, at the daughter of the man who had saved his life.
Nearing the edge
Oblivious, I
almost
Fell right over
"See how easy that was?" Jaina asked, grabbing his arm. "You should do that more often – it'll make you feel better."
Kyp rolled his eyes and shrugged her hand off. "I feel just fine. Thanks."
A
part of me
Will never be quite able
To feel stable
"Liar." Jaina scoffed. "But I will leave you in your delusional state of mind." Again, she grabbed his arm and pulled him towards the buffet at the end of the mess hall. As he'd suspected, the food looked poisonous to him, rather than enjoyable.
"Will you stop killing the food with that look? It's already dead. It wants to be eaten."
"Poor food then, huh?" Kyp chuckled at Jaina's perturbed look but in the end, he settled for a simple dish with a few fruits on the side. He followed Jaina to a table and sat down opposite her, watching as she stuffed her mouth with cake.
"Hungry, are we?" He asked with a raised brow. She smiled at him, while she chewed.
"Always. Especially with this cake. You should try it."
"I'm fine. Thanks."
Kyp laughed at her narrowed eyes. Her face lit up though as her mind finally realized her friend had laughed. He never laughed on this day! It would usually take her stupid remark after silly deed after stupid remark to at least get him to crack a tiny smile.
"Eat, you stupid man." She said after swallowing, pretending her fork to be a weapon as she waved it in front of his face.
"Yes, Goddess. As you wish." He winked at her, leaning back in his chair. Although life was never simple, although life always pushed at you and laid stones in your way, there was always a bright spot somewhere. Be it a person making you smile or a simple, unconditional act of kindness – anything to brighten up a dark, gloomy day – in the end, it seemed, everything did turn out alright.
As
I close my eyes
Steady my feet on the ground
Raise my head to
the sky
And though time rolls by
Still I feel like a child
As
I look at the moon
Maybe I grew up a little too soon
