Work Text:
The Jedi had no eulogies or elegies. And yet, as she stood there, watching the pyre of her once and long-time friend burn, she could not help but compose a simple meditation.
Sol, self-deciever, may your passage back be gentle.
May you pass into the Void with peace and grace.
May you find the love that you so closely sought, even to your death.
Sol, named for the light of your home.
Never were you the best knight, your shortcomings are now seen.
You always thought that you did what was right, no matter what others told you.
You were kind and caring and misguided.
How you shrouded your failures in self-deception;
always so certain that you did what was right in the name of the Jedi.
Your love and attachments and self-delusion brought your death upon you;
the Force balances all things.
It was as honest as she could make it without being sentimental. She wondered what the girl Osha had thought as she had taken the life of the man who had loved her as his own. So it is that emotions and their rule bring only pain and destruction.
The girl Mae had no memory of what had occurred in the last twelve years since the Brendok Incident. She did not remember her crimes as a Sith apprentice, or her assault of her own sister, nor did she even remember that she had a sister. Vernestra would not condemn a girl who could not even remember her crimes to a life of prison and punishment. Qimir and his now acolyte Osha had vanished. Kelnacca was dead. Indara was dead. Torbin was dead. Any that may have vouched for Sol’s name and honor were dead and gone. There was none left but Sol. It pained her that she must tarnish a good man’s name.
I am so sorry, old friend, Vernestra thought as the burning pyre crumbled under its own weight, sinking into the water. But now your death will serve a better purpose.