He still didn’t know why Thrawn had left him his journal. Perhaps he’d seen it simply as history. [] Or perhaps the reason was encompassed somehow in that final entry.
Distantly, Eli wondered if there had been any more to the journal. And, if so, if he would ever find the other entries.
He doubted it. But it didn’t really matter.
The galaxy had Thrawn’s legacy and his accomplishments. Those who could learn from that legacy had presumably already done so. Those who couldn’t never would.
~
After two years exposed to such beauty, I should stop to be surprised by how this community keeps producing masterpieces.
And yet.
This @jenniemariestudio votive candle touches my heart.
Jennie did not know Eli when I commissioned her.
So, to deeply capture their bond, she read the imperial trilogy.
Just for this work. For me.
And there is no price I could pay for something like that.
The feeling of ease that Thrawn has when he is around Eli.
Relaxed. Safe to be himself.
Silent, and still, sharing it all.
Because Eli knows.
Because he is able to listen to the unspoken.
A translator of the soul.
Artists. Aren't they astonishing?
A few strokes and they are there.
Thrawn, breathing in the rising moon.
Eli, peeking at that small curl on his friend's lips, a smile that an untrained eye would miss.
Warriors. After a very hard life.
And yet, serene.
Perfectly them.
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