Jacen quietly stepped out into the street that night, a spirit lantern in one hand, papers and a bottle of ink in the other. He’d heard about the Night Parade of a Hundred Ghosts from the locals, and had been appropriately cautioned against wandering out into the open, but the idea of communing with the dead didn’t really frighten him. So here he was, a willing participant in the parade, holding up the lantern to beckon a ghost or two.
Anakin, he thought, letting himself fall into the Force’s embrace. His brother was in Aifaran, yes, but it wasn’t the brother he’d lost, the Anakin who’d made his last stand on Myrkr. And so Jacen let his senses reach out to the parading dead, through the hollow in his chest with which he used to be able to sense the Vong, searching for a familiar soul.
What he found was something else entirely.
It started as a whisper, and then it was a howl, long and eerie, enough to make hairs stand. But it wasn’t the howls that brought Jacen up short; it was the underlying message, one he could pick up enough of given his unusual affinity with animals. About some... tragedy on a ship? Darkness and death and a... god?
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Anakin, he thought, letting himself fall into the Force’s embrace. His brother was in Aifaran, yes, but it wasn’t the brother he’d lost, the Anakin who’d made his last stand on Myrkr. And so Jacen let his senses reach out to the parading dead, through the hollow in his chest with which he used to be able to sense the Vong, searching for a familiar soul.
What he found was something else entirely.
It started as a whisper, and then it was a howl, long and eerie, enough to make hairs stand. But it wasn’t the howls that brought Jacen up short; it was the underlying message, one he could pick up enough of given his unusual affinity with animals. About some... tragedy on a ship? Darkness and death and a... god?
The air suddenly felt so much colder.