"You could say that. Although after our trip the Mystics took us on, I don't know if I really want to fall into too deep of a sleep. Dreams sound like a terrible exercise." He brushed some sediment from the pillow that survived the onslaught of Manus AND the Gormak before laying down completely, blowing out a sigh.
"We'll see if anything gets resolved tomorrow. I'm worried that what we saw was too vague and..." He shook his head.
"No use worrying about it now, right?" 

____

He stood against the cool, cobblestone wall with his arms folded across his chest, aqua irises flickering back and forth to those who spoke at their morning council. Other than a few greetings, he stayed quiet; in fact, that was a running theme for his behavior that morning. Whatever power the Voss had sapped from him for the vision left him with an overwhelming feeling of fatigue that almost approached post-Illesia levels. Of course, they HAD just fought off yet another hostile takeover of the galaxy, so it made sense for his body to ache and protest, but to feel his...well, for lack of a better term, BEING wanting to collapse into an eternal hibernation was worrysome. He didn't want to talk to Aria about this, not until he was sure that it was something worthwhile to talk about, so when Aria prodded him about being so quiet over hastily devoured instant oats, he told her with a somewhat feigned smile that routinely fighting off galactic takeovers was catching up to him. That appeared to satisfy her, although he knew she would see through him sooner or later. But he couldn't burden her with this, especially not when they were potentially on the verge of discovering where Revan and Bastila went to. Speaking of that subject, the Qyaari assembled decided to head back to Zinuthra where they could conduct more of a thorough search and hold some kind of memorial service for the fallen Elder. 
"A good idea. Once we make sure the Voss has enough Alliance personnel to help clean up Manus' disaster, we'll head back. You two, however-" He pointed at Aria, then Yerbol. 
"You're going back to Zinuthra now. There's no point in keeping the two of you here." 
"What do you want us to do when we get planetside?" That elicited a chuckle from Elder Carnagie, who told the Champion:
"Just put your feet up, for Force's sake. I'll head back with you along with another of the Elders to help calm any nerves that might have been frayed with all of us gone and then begin planning Voldon's service." 
"So...we don't do anything?"
"I know, strange isn't it? Back in MY day, people who did monumental things to make sure galactic peace was preserved got a little time to take a breather. With how much loss has been experienced thanks to Manus, I think all of us will eventually need some kind of mental and physical break. You two just get yours a bit sooner than us." Yerbol would have normally protested this further, but in this situation all he did was smile sheepishly and thank the Elder for the opportunity. With a little bit more coordination between the Elders, it was decided that Matt, Aliel and the Champions would return to Zinuthra while Cheriss and Malu stayed behind to not only assist in clean up efforts, but to also make sure Kira came back with them in one piece. The Knight was missing in action even after the shuttle loading ramp closed and the four returning Qyaari were launched into hyperspace. All any of them could do was hope that Kira could get through this initial period of mourning and return home with them before making any other decisions. The Knight was known for being very creative with independent solutions to her problems and it was Voldon who normally kept those impulses at a healthy level. Without him, there was a possibility for Kira to fall back into old habits that were believed to be long gone. Matt and Aliel assured the Champions a couple of times during the journey back to Zinuthra that she would be fine, that she would recover just like "all of us will". 

For some reason, Yerbol doubted that. 

____

Zinuthra's ecology was difficult to predict, but the Alliance scientists posted on the Qyaari homeworld were beginning to pick up on weather patterns and when certain plants were "in season" or not. It so happened that the week leading up to Voldon's service was when the meditation garden used for Yerbol and Aria's wedding featured plants that would be in full bloom, displaying petals of crimson and orange alongside vibrant shades of green from the vines that intermingled along the cracking brick walls that formed a square perimeter around the area. It also happened to be a very stormy time across most of the planet, although the fierce rainfall and thunder didn't last for longer than thirty minutes at a time before giving way to full on sunshine, heating up the air. This created a less than pleasant atmosphere for the week's activities, which included making sure the student body didn't panic too much that the presiding Elder had died and creating all sorts of logistical arrangements for the service. Amidst the elevated bustle of the Academy grounds, Yerbol found himself playing the role of counselor, talking to students one on one or in small groups to not only assure them that the Qyaari would move forward stronger than ever, but to also hear their thoughts aired out in an informal setting. After all, he wasn't an Elder, so most students didn't automatically stiffen into a board when he entered the room and were a bit more forthcoming about what they were ACTUALLY thinking versus giving the Elders what they wanted(according to the students) to hear. Between talking with students and trying to sneak news about Voss' recovery from the Intelligence center, he spent time in meditation attempting to parse through the surge of exhaust that had overwhelmed him after their encounter with Manus. There was something within him that felt...wrong, almost violated in some way. Almost like the after-effects of Illesia's torture, but this was much more...gaping? A maw within himself? It was difficult to describe and even more difficult to hide what he was trying to discern from his wife, who quickly deciphered that something was wrong the first night they laid in bed together upon returning home. He could feel that she wanted to ask him about "whatever it was", but she didn't and hadn't the entire week. It was strange of her to NOT ask, but he suspected that she believed he was going through his own mourning process and needed time. A fair point. Maybe the losses were getting to him, maybe walking this path meant being comfortable with loss and-

His current meditation session was interrupted by the gentle wooshing sound of the sliding door to their quarters opening, the Champion opening his eyes to find that the dying rays of sunlight had given way to moonbeams that gave the petite figure in front of him an almost supernatural glow. 
"Didn't expect you back so soon...otherwise I would've turned on a light." He jested weakly, looking up to his wife with a quizzical expression. Something was bothering her.
"What's wrong?" With this being the evening before the memorial service, the Champion knew that both of them would have to be emotionally strong, which probably meant getting anything between the two of them out in the open. Like what he was meditating about...which might have been the reason for his wife's current(perceived) agitation. 
"Did I do something wrong? Because that look you're giving me normally means I did something wrong."