Paneau: capital city of Dalon
Dalon Spaceport Control Center
5.4 APC

Even though Garran had eaten modestly, seemingly still wary of his company, he finished his entire meal in complete silence, only making eye contact with Elena a few times. Perhaps she was putting off a less friendly aura than Koril had, but she simply wanted to stay cautious. Having a complete stranger dumped on them, even if it had been Deilia's doing, still didn't sit well with her, especially with everything else going on. What was she to expect from this long-lost Rys'tihn, if he really was a Rys'tihn?

After carefully placing his utensils on his plate, Garran looked up at her expectantly, remaining silently patient. It was like he was eagerly awaiting an order from her, already respecting her implied authority over him. She felt a bit awkward in the position he was putting her in, unsure how to treat him. His innocence was refreshing, but she determinedly kept her guard up.

"Were your belongings left in your ship, or did the guards bring it with you when you were escorted here?"

Garran shrugged apologetically. "I don't know. I just have one bag, ma'am." After a moment, he added sadly, "...it's all I have left."

Struck by his vulnerability, she studied him for a moment, wondering what he meant. He had said earlier that his mother's paintings had all been destroyed in a fire that claimed his home, and she realized he must have lost everything else with it. He had nothing except for whatever was in his bag and the painting Deilia had given to him, and he was entirely at their mercy now. Elena could feel her defenses lowering with sympathy.

Startling her, a guard stepped into the room, placing a bag on the table in front of Garran. "His effects, m'lady," he said, apparently having listened to their conversation. "It was searched thoroughly, and nothing dangerous or suspicious was found."

Elena nodded to dismiss the guard, and she watched Garran closely as he tore through the bag's contents anxiously once the guard left the room. Finally pulling an object from it, he breathed a heavy sigh of relief, clutching it tightly in both hands. "Good, it's still here..."

She hadn't intended to pry, but Garran interpreted her intensely curious look as a demand for an explanation. He complied and shyly extended his hand, holding out a marbled green stone to her. It didn't take her long to recognize it.

"It was my mom's. It was the only thing I was able to save from the fire."

Stepping closer to him, she looked it over in his palm, unwilling to take it from him knowing how much he cherished it. "Do you know what this is, Garran?"

He shook his head as he brushed his thumb over its delicately carved surface; he probably already had all its grooves and details memorized, she mused. He remained inquisitive, though, patiently waiting for her to continue. If only she could read all of the ancient Paneau script for him...

"It's called a Life Stone. It's a tradition here that a unique stone is created when a Paneau reaches an important milestone in their life. Sometimes the stones are cast into the rivers after a special ceremony, but some Paneau choose to keep them." As he flipped the stone over in his palm, she was at least able to decipher enough of the letters, and it brought a small smile to her face. "This one's yours."

Garran only furrowed his brows. "What do you mean?"

Her smile broadened as she traced her finger along the design. "See these carvings here? They're letters. In Paneau's ancient script, they spell your name: Garran."

The look of pure wonder on his face removed any remaining traces of hesitancy within her. She could so easily sense his unrestrained, unadulterated emotions, she felt compelled to give him all the answers she could. "It was probably made when you were born."

"I...I was born here? Does it say who my father is?"

She cringed mentally. At least...answers that wouldn't take more than a few words to explain. "I'm not sure," she feigned polite ignorance. "I'm not familiar enough with the letters to read it all. Maybe Koril can tell you later."

Satisfied with her answer and still in awe over the stone as he pocketed it for safe keeping, Garran nodded with a wide smile. "Okay."

As the door to the room opened unannounced, Major Jax stepped inside, though he quickly slowed to a halt as he focused on Garran. He, too, seemed surprised as he picked up on the familial resemblance, and Elena had to make a soft noise in the back of her throat to redirect his attention. Hopefully he understood the expression on her face that was silently asking him to not voice aloud his suspicions.

Blinking for a moment as if he had forgotten the reason for his visit, he finally found his voice. "Your transport is ready, m'lady, whenever you're prepared to leave."

She nodded, her eyes also expressing her thanks that he refrained from saying more. "I think we're ready now. Garran," she said as she stepped back from him, "this is Major Aurin Jax. He's a very good friend of mine, and you'll probably be seeing him around often." Though she wasn't surprised, Garran became noticeably worried at the mention of Jax's rank, watching the major with a hint of fear. "Major, this is Garran Bolc. He'll be our guest at the Retreat."

Recognizing Garran's unease, Jax gave him a friendly smile. "Nice to meet you, Garran. Don't worry; we're not all as...uptight as Commander Zsasso is. You won't have anything to worry about here."

Despite still seeming unsure even after glancing at Elena for reassurance, Garran nodded, his hand tightening around the straps of his bag still sitting on the table in front of him. He looked up to Elena again, his voice quiet. "Where are we going? A retreat?"

"Yes, but you can call it home for now."

Earning another small smile from him, he stood and slung his bag's straps over his shoulder, looking a bit nervous but still somewhat eager to leave. Jax signaled a guard escort inside, and with an encouraging smile from Elena, Garran followed them out, leaving Elena and Jax to bring up the rear. She was careful to keep her voice low enough to only be heard by Jax as they walked.

"You've been briefed, Major?"

Though quiet, too, Jax chose his answer carefully to be safe. "In so many words, m'lady. The High Commander was vague enough, but...I didn't believe it...until I saw him."

Elena withheld a heavier sigh. "I guess it was naive of me to expect that we had discovered all the secrets this family was hiding. Leave it to a Ghost Heir to come up with another one."

"Does he know?"

As Garran glanced back at them from up ahead, Elena gave him another smile that faded the instant he turned around. "No...he doesn't know yet."

"Understood, m'lady. He'll be monitored closely, I assure you."

With another anxious glance from Garran back toward them, Elena gripped Jax's arm in wordless gratitude before she swiftly caught up to the teen, walking alongside him as they made their way through the spaceport.

"It's alright, Garran," she reassured him with a kind smile. "You're not in trouble. I know it seems strange, but I almost always have guards with me."

He looked confused. "Guards protecting a Jedi?"

"Between you and me, they're really only there for show."

Having heard their conversation, one of the Royal Guards turned his head back to them slightly, but he walked on, and Elena winked at Garran to put him further at ease.

"The wife of the High Commander is rarely alone. The same goes for the members of the Royal Families."

Thinking for a moment, Garran furrowed his brows. "Are you a Royal, too?"

"Yes. The Rys'tihns are one of the six Royal Families here. But you can learn more about all that later. I want to know more about you."

Garran smiled sheepishly, unused to so much attention on him. "Me? There's not much to me." He pulled his bag forward, gesturing inside it to its minimal contents. "Obviously."

"Your possessions do not make you who you are, Garran. You are far more than what you own. Surely you have hobbies, talents, things that interest you...?"

As he considered her question, he looked genuinely perplexed. He shrugged after a moment, struggling to come up with an answer. "I...don't know. I haven't done anything that was just for me in a long time."

Confused herself, Elena focused on him intently, unsure how he could give her such a sad response. He was seventeen; how could he not have an answer for such a simple question?

"When I was younger, I would help my mom when she painted," he explained after seeing the look on her face. "I brought her tools she needed, food she forgot to eat... She even let me mix the paints a few times." He smiled with the fond recollection, but it dissolved as he continued. "And when she became too sick to paint...I took care of her...until the day she died." He shrugged again. "I had friends that lived down in the valley, and we played together all the time when we were kids, but...I couldn't leave Mom alone while she was so weak. She fought her illness for several years, and...I don't know. That was all I did; I helped her as much as I could."

Even though her body registered the movement as they boarded the small transport headed for the Retreat, Elena found herself lost in a haze of bewilderment. The boy had known little else besides his mother's company for seventeen years; she had been his entire world, and now that she was gone, he had to be so lost. He seemed to have bonded with Deilia well, so he was resilient enough to adjust, but he could also still be fragile enough to break with too many revelations. She would have to tell Koril to hold off on informing Garran of his father's identity and of his status as a Royal until he had enough time to process everything properly. And with everything there was to learn about Paneau...that could take some time.

"Elena? I mean...m'lady?"

Amused by his self-correction, she grinned at him beside her. "Please, call me Elena."

He relaxed a bit more, nodding. "Elena. Are you from Paneau?"

"No. I'm from Hoth, but how I ended up here is a very long story, longer than our trip will last, I'm afraid. Maybe some other time."

The transport had already been in the air for a few minutes, so he nodded, though he began to look anxious again. "So, what will I need to do at this retreat?"

Elena blinked. "Do?"

"Yeah, like cleaning, cooking, maintenance?"

Sitting across the hold from them, Major Jax arched his eyebrows as Elena realized what he meant. "No, Garran... We have a full staff for that. You're our guest. You don't need to do any of those things right now."

Though he still looked unsettled, he didn't protest further. "Okay...but I can still look up information on my mom, right?"

"Of course. You'll have access to just about every database we have available."

Garran nodded with a small smile, again satisfied for the time being as he sat back more comfortably into the bench. The silence between them didn't seem to bother him as he enjoyed the remainder of the ride, casually studying the transport's humble interior. His fascination with the ship made Elena wonder how many times he had actually traveled aboard any kind of spacecraft.

The engines gave a slow groan as they lowered the transport to the ground, and seemingly excited to see his accommodations, Garran swiftly descended the rear ramp once it opened. He stopped almost immediately, though, rendered breathless as he looked at the picturesque landscape surrounding them in the light of the morning's sunrise. The Rys'tihn Retreat was remote and isolated, situated in the distant foothills of the Naeron Mountains, the same range that bounded the city of Dalon a few hundred kilometers away. Only after Elena stepped up beside him did he find his voice to speak again.

"This...this was what my mother was painting...not Bakura. It's amazing."

Glad to see his delight, Elena gave him a warm smile, but as Koril and a member of the Retreat's staff approached, her expression fell to match Koril's look of serious concern.

"Garran, this is Witt Larkan," Koril introduced the older man beside him blandly. "He'll help get you settled inside. Elena and I have to return to Dalon, I'm sorry."

Understanding the gravity in Koril's tone, Garran nodded. "Okay. Thank you, both, for this," he continued with a small smile as he glanced between them. "I really appreciate it."

Koril released a slow breath, his expression lightening the slightest bit. "It's the least we can do."

As Garran gave them both a friendly wave and continued on into the Retreat with Larkan, Koril wasted little time, stepping up into the transport. Elena and Jax could barely keep up, only able to reach him once he took a seat in the main hold.

"The Manor," he instructed the pilot curtly, and as the transport took off once more, Elena took Koril's hand tightly and sat beside him. His brows creased together as he began answering her silent question, glancing across the hold at Jax seated opposite them. "Mand's condition only worsened overnight. Rech said she put herself in some kind of...hibernation trance so she can try to keep the twins healthy...at the expense of her own health."

Saddened by the news, Elena closed her eyes as she gently rested her head on his shoulder, squeezing his hand for support. His heart remained heavily burdened, though, prompting her to sit up from him and search his face with worry. "...there's something else?"

Though his voice had weakened considerably, the focus in his eyes sharpened dramatically. "Cade didn't know it was Deilia who had stolen the painting. He sent his covert agents after her... They're going to kill her."

Elena struggled to breathe. "For stealing a painting?"

"She got through so much of our security so cleanly, he thought she was too much of a security threat to allow to escape. He can't call them off, either; they're operating in a strict communications blackout until..." He paused only to tighten his hold around her hand. "You promised me you'd help me find her."

She didn't hesitate. "Yes, I will." Reaching up with her free hand, she gently placed her palm against the side of his face, caressing his cheek with her thumb.

Paneau: capital city of Dalon
Rys'tihn Manor

Though frustration was trying to claim him faster than his exhaustion, he fought through it, taking in a long, deep breath. "Again."

Sitting just in front of him on the floor, too, Elena squeezed his hands, raising her first objection since they had begun his intense meditation sessions three days earlier.

"Koril...I know how much you want to, but you can't force this."

He kept his eyes closed, focusing himself inward, reaching within himself as she had directed countless times before...

"Most Jedi go through their entire lives without ever having a vision of any kind."

Find the connection he shared with Deilia, hold onto it, strengthen it...

"I've had two."

She could be anywhere in the galaxy, but he could tell he was getting closer to her each time, his senses reaching farther the more he tried...

"I know, but those were different. You weren't trying to find them; they came to you."

She was just out of his reach, so close he could hear her thoughts, so he pushed further, harder...

"What you're trying to do usually takes years of patient practice. I just don't want you to get burned out..."

A smell. Burning, choking, smoldering...trapped, no escape...

"I smell...a fire...a house burning..."

"...Koril?"

He could taste the ash in his mouth, feel the searing heat threatening to kiss his skin... Without warning, though, an intense, white-hot pain erupted on the left side of his neck, robbing him of the ability to breathe. It had been more than five years since the last time his body had registered any kind of pain, and he began shaking in shock. His skin was burning, but how, why? Elena's voice was so distant, yet he could hear and feel her worry. He suffered through the pain, though, desperately pushing it aside to learn everything he could from the vision. He brought his hand up to his neck, as if he could smother the scorching pain...but it was suddenly gone as quickly as it had come. With a bright flash, his mind cleared of the smoke and fire, and replacing it, he saw a twinkling, starry backdrop that was all too familiar.

Coruscant.

The subtle, swarming movements of the skylanes against the jagged outline of the sparkling buildings were almost mesmerizing, but it didn't last long. A heavy, foreboding darkness quickly consumed him, leaving his body weak and his consciousness filled only with a different kind of smell, one that he had come to know well years ago, and one that was definitely unique to the cityplanet. The stinging, acrid stench of rotting durasteel and other discarded trash was a harsh reminder of the savage Underlevels, and he even recognized the surrounding streets from the few years he spent there as a boy. Though he began to surface, leaving Coruscant far behind to return to himself, he still felt his body sagging under some kind of external weight, and he couldn't combat it. He knew he hadn't blacked out yet; he could still hear Elena's calm but concerned voice beside him.

"Easy, Koril, just lay back. I've got you..."

He felt her arm supporting him behind his shoulders, slowly lowering his upper body to the floor, and as expected, she pressed her fingers firmly into his neck to assess his condition.

"Your heart's racing," she informed him worriedly. "You've done too much."

He didn't agree. It was the most progress he had made, and though he had always felt their strong connection since he had saved Deilia from death two years ago, it had both just strengthened and weakened at the same time. What did that mean?

Finally coming out from under the haze enough to move, he opened his eyes, looking up at Elena knelt at his side. "She's...on Coruscant."

Elena frowned as she furrowed her brows. "She was when she stole the painting, yes, but I'm sure she didn't stay there. She would know better." She sighed lightly, watching him closely as he continued to improve. "I think you're seeing her past. That burning house was probably Garran's; she was there with him then. And she stole the painting more than a week ago, so that's -"

"No," he interrupted, shaking his head. "She's there, now. I can feel it."

Elena looked unconvinced, if not decidedly skeptical. "How do you know?"

How could he put into words what he had just experienced? It was as though he had just been looking through Deilia's eyes, connected to her so closely... But then everything turned black, like something had caused her to faint. Could it have been his fault, or had something happened to her? A building sense of unease forced him to assume the latter, and he was beginning to believe that she was in imminent danger.

"She's there," he asserted once more, "and she's...wounded... I have to help her." He began to sit up, but Elena was quick to firmly press his shoulders back to the floor.

"No, rest," she demanded, her expression softening after a moment. "Even if she is on Coruscant...there's nothing you can do from here."

"I have contacts there, in my old neighborhood. They can find her."

Giving him another reluctant sigh, she nodded, though she kept a strong hand at his shoulder. "Okay, but please try to relax right now. You're too worked up. Meditation is supposed to do the opposite..."

He closed his eyes once more to comply, taking deliberately slow breaths for her sake. He had recovered from the vertigo and felt fine, but even if she was overreacting, he had nearly just blacked out. He felt her brush her fingers over his cheek, comforting him even more...until he realized how unusually warm her hand was.