EAST OF EDEN ( anakin s. ) ✔️

019 | Innocence Dies..

━━━━━━ ༻ 🌄 ༺ ━━━━━━
" innocence dies "
...
━━━ ༻ CHAPTER NINETEEN ༺ ━━━

          WAR TASTES BITTER. It is iron flowing crimson from the hearts that have stopped beating on the many battlefields entailed away from their true purpose and into desolate graveyards of hope. Amongst those immaterial tombstones only death still walks, holding hands with the few survivors in whose tears is written the real cost of the world, that price no song comes close to even bringing homage to, far lass to tell its truth.

Truth be told, Eden knew so much yet so little of the world she loved without bounds.

Her eyes were glazed with the sort of shine which tried its best to see beauty in every single vibration lingering in the air. But there is no beauty to be seen war, that foundation stone to the galaxy, unless you strip yourself naked of your humanity and morality, give yourself up to a depraved lust for darkness, in which case the battle becomes a hymn and you turn into a worshipper at a shrine that looks like hope and yet feeds deceit.

In a perpetual attempt happening only in her subconscious, Eden has avoided the politics, the ruling irons that made the galaxy spin for the eyes which did not see past the physical realm, like she could. She's fallen in love with this world, with this whole galaxy long before she could meet it with its rot between its teeth, smiling in perfect imperfection through the tears. She's made a hero out of its people, a legend out of its glories, and in that childhood painting, it was hard to accept flaw.

Love, like all its extreme sisters, is famous for turning people blind.

Eden's boundless love was an execution waiting to happen, her quiet risk worn around her neck that could become a necklace or a rope in a matter of seconds.

It spoke through eternity how Anakin would not condemn that which he too acknowledges and accepts within himself at all times. His love ripped at the fabric of reality shamelessly and it roared with the power of dying stars.

Cay Lanshee brought news that left Anakin crippled in a confusion as to what to even do. What could he do? He could be angry, surely: this man may have once saved Eden's life, yet left the cause of her suffering live nonetheless. How does that give him the right to now be a reliable herald to even more pains? With a dash of reasonableness, Anakin admitted to himself the possibility of being just: he had come there to do a job and he should, by all means, finish what he started and go through with the plan. He should arrest Cay Lanshee in the name of the Republic and he should dial Captain Rex and Ahsoka to announce they've found the fugitive they were after.

But a third emotion stabbed through his each heartbeat, choking out every sense of self. Fear. It made his lightsaber feel heavy, this undeniable terror: what if Eden was truly in danger? What if she really was in danger and he was just wasting time? What if she could die, because he didn't let Cay Lanshee talk? Because of him.

That last thought alone acted on its own to get his hand to switch off his saber and collapse by his side before it could have trembled in the air the fragrance of his weakness. "Talk," Anakin demanded. "And talk fast." The demand needed nothing more to be turned into a threat.

"The Seer-"

"So it is your mistaken mercy that is threatening Eden!" Anakin did not let Cay Lanshee finish before stepping closer by the war drums of his accusation. He needed no more words than that, just as he needed only his bare hands to make Cay pay for what he now considered a direct threat towards what he loves. What he loves stands intertwined with what he is to an almost blur of existence.