You know I have to choose The Legend of the Timeless Warrior (Kalluzeb) for the WIP game XD
Thank you my dearie for letting me gush about my latest wip. I'm so obsessed with this Outlander AU. I swear I find little new details and more parallels to the original story every day.
People often went missing. Midagers wanted to explore the galaxy on their own. Younglings wandered away from their parents and disappear forever. Spouses took credits from the saving jar and a speeder to the spaceport. Most were found.
Each disappearance held a tale. Often, it was a mundane one.
Alexsandr Kallus never expected his story would delve into the world of fantasy. Little did he know that his life would be forever altered when his mate suggested a second honeymoon on Lasan, which held significance for them. It was a morbid one, admittedly, yet it resonated deeply with their families’s history.
The remaining Lasat clung to survival as an endangered species. After the latest war, they banded together to rebuild both their planet homes: Lasan and Lira San. Despite the destruction brought by the Empire centuries ago, and by the Grysk in recent times, the Lasat people showed an enduring spirit. It was a glaring fact for Alexsandr as he stood on the main plaza on Lasan capital city. After months of reconstruction, the place was a pale imitation of its past, yet resilient fresh growth was gradually obscuring the war’s scars. The quality was something he understood and resonated with.
Alexsandr strolled through the street, admiring the old Royal Palace ruins. A haunting reminder of a bygone era. Amidst a sea of broken columns, the townspeople meticulously reconstructed the stone statues; the scent of dust and chipped stone and the rhythmic tap-tap-tap of chisels shaping the cold, smooth surfaces filled the air. In the ancient garden several meters ahead, the rustle of leaves seemed to whisper tales of a poignant and violent past, a stark reminder of the bloodshed.
The ancient temples two blocks away, where the Lasat once venerated the Ashla, shared a similar state of dilapidation. Only leaf rustles and distant bird cries break the silence, contrasting with past hymns that used to fill the halls.
The sight was as beautiful as it was haunting.
Alexsandr felt a deep, searing shame at the destruction of the place, its culture, and its people. It was a shame tied to his ancestors’ actions. Kallus family history as ruthless military people marked their names as synonymous with infamy and cruelty. They were mere attack dogs with misplaced loyalty to powerful, corrupt men. It left a bitter taste of defeat and sacrifice in his tongue, a legacy that felt heavy on his heart, cold and unforgiving like the earth where he stood. The trail of blood and tears his family members left behind, caused by their pursuit of warped beliefs, exposed their supposed honor as a blatant lie.
Alexsandr broke with family tradition. He became the first in generations to join the military, motivated by only a commitment to justice and peace, but never pursued rank and prestige, driven by ego. He was dedicated to doing good, even if it meant remaining a low-ranking soldier. That lack of ambition made him an outcast among his family. His father called him a fool, unworthy to be his son. His siblings berating him for having opposite morals and upsetting their father. Nothing of that mattered; he had no regrets. Though it felt absurd, deep down, all he wanted was to atone for his family’s past wrongdoings.
Every tiny reparation helped to balance the scales. He hoped his sacrifices during the war against the Grysks—sleepless nights and risking his life to save others in battle—meant something; that his name would no longer be spoken with hatred anymore.
And if you (or anyone else) want to know more about the story, just go HERE (opens on browser)
