Faded Warmth

[Cptn Corizon 0]

Author's Note: Backdated from before we arrived at Camelot. Enjoyeth!

 

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Exile of the Heart

 

Ah-Windu Corizon stared aimlessly into space as stars flicked by as the Morninstar hurried home to Starbase Camelot and the safety of the veil of Avalon. But no serenity would come to the steward of the Morningstar.

 

Five days passed since they left Al-Ucard in the wake of the mighty Intrepid-class starship. And he was glad to leave the tidal monsoon of emotional scaring it left upon him behind; though he knew his experience with Victria would leave a lasting imprint upon his thoughts and dreams for many years to come.

 

His gaze glanced into the darkness. His thoughts called to it, for in the darkness of space, his emotional exile continued. His entire life, he walled himself off from everyone else. Exiling himself, making unto himself an isle, but inside a torrent of emotions stirred, like a resting volcano sleeping, hiding it’s wrath.

 

And so easily, Victria had penetrated that wall. In a very strange way, he felt a very deep connection with her. So easily he had offered to give himself to her, and yet he barely knew her. He had felt at ease with her, and his heart had stirred in the darkness of his soul.

 

But as the Morningstar distanced the planet, the embers that stirred in his cold heart flickered and dulled as the warmth escaped. And again he was cold, and frozen.

 

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Long Long Journey

 

The journey to Camelot seemed, at glance, an eternity. Though he knew he would find know respite, he wanted desperately to be someplace familiar. His heart was far from home though, and even the skies of his home planet would not quiet the rising shadow he saw in his mind, and felt in his heart.

 

Twenty Days. He’d repeated the phrase over and over to himself in his quarters on the first day of the journey home. And every day after that, he repeated the number of days left till the reached journey’s end. But it didn’t seem to help; though light years seemed short to the heart longing for home—his mind swirled with thoughts and misgivings.

 

And always the burning of his ever fading heart, constantly reminded him of the path that lay behind him.

 

Never before had insecurity crept into his mind like it now did. Not only did he now question himself, but he questioned the future of peace and security in the Galaxy. And though Camelot would provide security, it would not stop the tide that seemed destined to crash against the land.

 

The Dominion stood, ready to fall. Divided and leaderless. And so, at the end of this long long journey there would be no blessed relief. There would be no lake of silver glass, no boats to carry them on home. Only the fires of war awaited at the end of this journey, he feared. And so no rest would come to him, not yet.

 

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Broken Embers

 

Why had Victria broken the walls of his heart? Why could she chisel through the solid rock he sheathed that which he showed to none? Corizon spent an entire day, recouping from the incident in meditation. His past, a closely guarded essence came to him often in the meditated trance he sought.

 

A lost moment in time surfaced to haunt his dreams. There was a day when his heart was open, but when the day turned into night, his heart grew cold. Someone said goodbye, and he never understood why.

 

Since, he’d looked for meaning, though he did not know why. But all the time, he kept believing, though he didn’t know why he couldn’t say goodbye. Even when the sunning was shining, he could never see the golden sky.

 

His heart turned cold, because he couldn’t say good bye. And he didn’t know why would his broken heart had began to cry. He didn’t know why, he didn’t know why.

 

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In Dreams

 

Corizon stood once more, perched against his windows, staring into space. Wondering and thinking. Twelve days had passed. Journey’s end was now in sight. And he’d concealed the weakness in his emotional armor once more.

 

He easily rebuffed attempts by the crew to consol him. Dismissing the need for help, saying it had only been a short captivity and one he’d rather forget. All of which were true. And he thanked the stars they didn’t have a counselor aboard.

 

And so, only his dreams, did his thoughts turn the moments which had shaped his heart, and broken it into cold embers.

 

As he stood by the window, preparing to go on duty watch, he sung lowly and softly to himself the song that had came to him in his dreams. Making his way down the corridors, the song faded into a hum with occasional words, and the hum into silence as he approached the bridge; with the melody, faded the appearance of sorrow in his heart.

 

The outward façade reappeared, and once again walled himself off.