Jump to content

The Dejarik Board


King Kheldar vos Correlli

Recommended Posts

BEYOND SHADOWS

 

”. . .The Force is death.”

 

Frond finished slowly reciting the Mind Walker’s code. Opening their eyes, Frond and Ficcabin found themselves on a plane completely foreign compared to the icy world of Ilum that they had just been on and definitely not the cramped man-made quarters of the ship they had closed their eyes in moments before.

 

Letting go of Ficcabin’s hand, Frond lowered his arms to his sides and turned to look at Ficcabin, their forms still the same as they had been on Ilum, solid and sturdy. Nothing indicated that they were anything but their same material selves, aside from the overwhelming sense of peace and calm that permeated through their very spirits.

 

”The truth welcome to. Beyond Shadows are Ficcabin Yule brother we.”

 

All around them the warm humid air hung humid and still. Even so, it was not uncomfortable. Through the edges of the mist, an overgrown jungle-filled world populated by strange foreign not-so-friendly looking flora stretched out in all directions, broken up by the occasional stream or pool, winding paths, clearings, and moss covered ruins. Aside from the absolute stillness of the world and the sense of tranquility, the complete lack of fauna, be they buzzing insects or anything bigger, added to the strangeness of the entire place.

 

Shuffling forwards, Frond walked as one who followed an invisible line directly through the underbrush, not looking to see if Ficcabin followed, assuming his companion would.

 

”The water avoid. The ways you learn of Beyond Shadows until, you consume you transform or it could. Bother not others you should see any have walked who them do Beyond Shadows. Come seek to here have tranquility and the truth of the peace they.”

 

Carefully, Frond made his way through the undergrowth towards a large yawning cavern entrance. Stepping inside the damp grotto, water glistened and shimmered off the walls. Instead of being dark and warm as one might expect, the grotto was bathed in a shimmering dancing light, as if moonlight was being reflected throughout the hollow and the temperature was noticeably cooler, uncomfortably so, from the air just outside. Situated at the back of the cavern, was a pool of inky black water. Its surface was calm as glass, but the cool silvery light that bounced about the room was absent on its surface. Instead, it seemed to draw in any light that might have struck it. As Frond shuffled up to the edge of the water, a dull hum faintly filled the cavern. The Force radiated and echoed off the surface of the glassy water.

 

Turning look for Ficcabin, Frond whispered a simple explanation, ”The Pool of Knowledge.”

 

With his feet along the very edge of the moss-free edges of the pool, Frond sighed deeply, his leafy hair-like appendages rustling noisily.

 

” begin shall here I construct is to my weapon where Jedi. The aura join The Force you may in me of meditating, into stare you the pool may, may explore or go you forth Beyond Shadows; but remember, the waters avoid.

 

Turning back to stare at the pool Frond set his face into an expressionless visage and stared off.

XQ19Jfm.png
Link to comment
Share on other sites

As the skeletal being came to be, the words that were recited echoed through his spirit. He had strangely found comfort in the tree's counting up of the seven sacred numbers, and had found himself forming the numbers in his own head as he slowly attempted to follow the tree's step, and eventually let his mind free of all the distractions around him. While this seemed difficult at first, since a life in space made one busy, the counting was what helped Ficcabin come to a complete sense of serenity.

 

Ficcabin, a being who never really needed to breath when he didn't want to, took a sharp breath in when he opened his eyes and saw the world around him. He placed his hands on the ground, feeling the plant life and the dirt between his fingers, the sensation of moisture in cool silt.

 

This is... I.... Words failed the scientist. How had this happened. Where one moment he was in the safe confines of a mighty space vessel on an icy planet, now he was in a forest. Ficcabin felt completely at peace but this kind of peace felt unusual to him. Like sitting at the controls of a new ship, this peace, this world, it felt unusual and strange. He had never touched this kind of serenity before, except that feeling when the ship crashed...

 

The scientist tried to come up with a way of how this was possible, but Ficcabin could only shake his head. This was impossible. A trick of the senses. He had heard that some alien species were rumored to be telepathic and able to control people's senses. The Zeltron controlled emotions with pheromones, and many individuals who were sick could see things not really there. It wasn't too far of a stretch to consider. Maybe this tree being was one of those who could influence the senses. Or maybe he had been drugged by one of the Jedi, or maybe he was just suffering from space sickness. That could explain this new feeling of peace.

 

But with every idea Ficcabin came up with to explain the entire situation away, he found them all lacking. Something else was at work. This...Force. Life and Death, whatever it was. Something had awakened something in the Givin. Never had he felt the impossible feelings of peace and serenity like this. Ficcabin felt as if he had opened a new sense suddenly and his entire vocabulary failed to even give the slightest detail on what it was like. It was like explaining what sound was to the deaf man, or color to the person born blind or the real world to a dreamer. Any attempt was inadequate.

 

Ficcabin could only stare at the world around him until the sound of footsteps of his companion, accentuated by the pure silence everywhere, signaled he was leaving towards a known place. Not wanting to be left alone, Ficcabin raced after. He listened to the tree's warning, and nodded. He was out of his environment and now in his friend's, if Ficcabin could call him that yet. He felt as he could hear a calling coming from the tree, but strangely muffled, or restrained. Ficcabin shook his head again, feeling a headache coming from trying to understand everything.

 

The sight of the cave made Ficcabin nervous again, but he didn't hesitate to follow. Again he marveled at the world about him; the sensation of cooler air, brighter light....and the water. Instantly, Ficcabin was drawn to the pool. As soon as he saw it he took steps towards it, ready to bend down and to quench a thirst that was not with him before. He stopped when he was at the edge however, ashamed at already nearly forgetting the warning he was just given.

 

Tree....what is this? At the explanation he nodded and stared at the pool more curious then ever.

 

I doubt I could leave this place if I wanted to. Ficcabin stated, both to himself and to his friend. But since I don't know your mediation techniques, nor do I wish to explore such a place alone, I think I will stay here and look closer...

 

And look closer Ficcabin did. He bent down to study the pool, to try to understand what kind of liquid it was to grant such an inky quality. But even as he did, the blackness seemed to swirl before him without motion. He looked closer as an image of ruins began to take form. Ficcabin noticed how the pieces were still smoking from the recent destruction. Fires were erupting everywhere. People, aliens of all kinds, were screaming and running, some away from some calamity, others towards each other with weapons in hand. People were giving into base instincts of survival and were killing each other. A maddness and chaos had taken control of these people. Ficcabin could feel a sense of fear growing in him. What was driving these people to do this? The image changed shape quickly, forming new ones that were only there for a brief moments. He could see a cloud of dust enveloping most of the world....lightning striking tall wrecked buildings....ships and droids ridden by armored warriors, who slaughtered innocents... a planet, glowing with city life, being wrecked by a moon...

 

Ficcabin fell back in fright. His breathing was rapid now, uncontrolled. In a blind panic he began to turn and flee the cavern, forgetting the feeling he had of not wanting to be alone, forgetting that the tree being was still there. He knew that planet. He had been there many times before. That planet that was home to billions, a shining jewel to all of the galaxy... Ficcabin broke into a sprint and dashed out, only to trip and fall at the entrance. He stayed there, unable to move, too afraid to do anything.

 

It can't be true.... It can't...

MX8p3j4.png
Link to comment
Share on other sites

As Frond’s newfound sojourner took to examining his reflection and whatever else he might find in the surface of the lake, Frond left him to his own devices. The Neti himself had sat and stared into the pool for years at a time watching the happenings of the past, present, and future with little concern or care, until the most recent times. Those visions had been what had driven him from his infinite contemplations back into the fanciful world of material beings; seeking to center the pendulum of The Force as it swung and stuck so far to the side of darkness.

 

As Ficcabin stood quietly, Frond closed his eyes, reaching out into The Force. It was stronger here, clearer, purer. It was not the same as back in the crystal caves of Ilum. There The Force flowed purely filtered by the crystals into the fanciful fictitious world of material beings. Here The Force simply existed, bathing all in its embrace. Perhaps The Force would help him now. It had brought him thus far had it not?

 

If truth be told, Frond had no idea how to build a lightsaber. Until very recently he had never given thought to wielding any weapon at all, much less the signature weapon of the warring force users of the galaxy. Still, he had shown remarkable proficiency with it in his trainings spats at the Jedi Academy. The use of a lightsaber would be one swift and simple way to help bring about a speedy balance to The Force. The sooner the balance was regained, the sooner he could return to his meditations. His meditations, oh how he longed to plant himself in the soft loamy soil of a sun-filled world and wander the realms Beyond Shadows for all of eternity until The Force called him home. Before he could do that, he had to complete his calling, given to him by The Force.

 

With his eyes closed, Frond opened his mind, allowing The Force to wash over his mind, body and soul, filling every pore of his body from his leaves down to his roots, filling him with an even deeper sense of calm tranquility. As The Force washed over him and his leafy hair swished ever so slightly as if in a non-existent breeze, Frond noted two things. The two crystals nestled safely in his body reacted differently to The Force. The cracked crystal in the branch off his head pulsated even cooler than the cool air about the wooden womb that it was nestled safely in.

 

And then Frond felt it, the faintest of whispers. The visions of the past that the green and red crystal had already imparted to him once washed over Frond’s mind again. The crystal had been implanted in all manner of metallic hilts, leading the charge against countless forces of evil, and then cutting swaths through the legions of light. In all these visions one thing remained consistent; the dull ever-constant hum of the glowing blade. Sometimes it was red, sometimes it was green, but barely ever was it powered down for more than a day, two at most, before it was activated clashing with the enemy, regardless of who that was at the time. The crystal had served its countless masters, dedicated one hundred percent to its wielder’s cause; only changing loyalty when its current wielder went on to become one with The Force. While still alive the crystal refused to serve any other but its one master.

 

All of this was fine, but it did little to help Frond. The crystal clearly yearned to feel the pulse of energy through its lattices, to clash against the enemy, to serve a cause worthy of its aged power and wisdom.

 

How? Can you how wield I? Know how fight not I do to. Lightsaber one a does how worthy build?

 

He silently queried the crystal within, his confusion suppressed even still by the overwhelming calmness of The Force Beyond Shadows. As he sat there, allowing The Force to flow over and through him, his mind mingled with the memories of the crystal. How long he sat he did not know, but slowly several different variations of lightsabers from down the generations filtered through his wooden plant-based mind. As these images slowly rotated and played through his head, a soft smile began to spread across Frond’s wooden face, creasing the already wooden wrinkles in his bark-covered face.

 

Yes, yes that would do. Unlike all of the crystals prior wielders and masters, Frond differed in several key aspects. Unlike the others, who had been servants of the darkness or servants of the light, their loyalties suppressing the innate darkness or light already bound within the crystal, Frond was a servant of the balance; neither light nor dark. Frond walked the razor-edged middle, even now as he sought to serve the light and drive back the darkness. In that, the crystal was free to radiate its purest energies, bound by neither side. Frond also was the first non-animal-based being to carry the crystal; but neither was he a droid. As such, the crystal was nestled inside Frond’s very being, a first for the aged stone. Slowly, an idea began to manifest within the combined mind of Frond and his crystal, a radical idea different than any other hit that had ever dared to hold the immeasurably facetted crystal. A hilt of wood, of the very flesh of the wielder, a hilt carved from Frond’s very being, his heart and soul bound together in such a way as to truly and completely become one with the crystal itself. Still there were other needs to make the weapon function. Some of those could be grown by force-induction with Frond’s own body, but others would need to be harvested. Thankfully, it would appear that in a land of pure Force incarnate such items could most assuredly be found.

 

Suddenly Frond’s vision was upended by the clatter of the robed Givin sprawling and crawling away from the pool; fear radiating from the skeletal being’s very soul. Frond frowned at this most recent development.

 

”Submerged has perhaps he too quickly been of the ways in The Force.”

 

Frond mumbled to himself as he slowly rose from his crouched position and sauntered slowly over to the fallen Givin, placing an outstretched arm on Ficcabin’s shoulder, his body and touch radiating the calming presence of both The Force around them and the calm center Frond carried within.

 

”Brother Yule, you what see did? In always the future of visions in the motion. The Force trust. Else nothing matters.”

 

Gently, Frond tried to help the Givin to his feet, indicating that they should leave the cave and walk, giving the Givin a chance to speak his mind as they walked the warm humid ruins of the planet.

XQ19Jfm.png
Link to comment
Share on other sites

It took a while for the tree to calm Ficcabin down, even with the calming presence throughout the area. It took a great deal of effort for the scientist to collect his thoughts enough to be able to simply put to words what he saw. At moments he would mutter some words like How could that happen? and Too much death but beyond that it was incoherent babble of mathematical terms and pleadings.

 

But the tree's presence, as well as this calming feeling of the environment did their work. Outside of the cave Ficcabin began to walk, slowly gathering everything together. Slowly, the raw fear of the vision, like a cursed mist in the rays of morning sun, started to ease away, but the memory was still strong and his emotional state was still vulnerable. He found that the prime numbers still held something of a healing ward for him and so he repeated these a few times, and eventually he was able to speak.

 

Oh, I have seen things, but nothing like that. I saw death. So much death. The capitol was in flames and the people... the people were panicking and being slaughtered as they could do nothing but watch as...as in the sky the... Ficcabin couldn't bring himself to say about the event of the moon. Tell me that was just some illusion. Tell me there is a way to prevent that or that I just saw some illusion. Please, tell me that it is this just a trick? Some grand trick for crashing into your temple! Ficcabin never had yearned before for a lie. As a scientist, he was a seeker of the truth of reality. But some truths were evidently too much to handle.

 

Ficcabin stopped in his walking and breathed in deeply, collecting his thoughts, muttering to himself the prime numbers again. He looked out into the mists, appreciating the warmth they gave, the confirmation he wasn't on Illum at the moment. I'm sorry tree, I think I may have interrupted your meditation. But I must ask...is that the future?

MX8p3j4.png
Link to comment
Share on other sites

Hearing the Givin’s words, Frond’s rather emotionless face, creased with concern. With the gentle strength of a twisting vine, he squeezed the man’s shoulder in comfort, he knew his words would not be easy to swallow; but everyone was owed the truth. What they did with it after that was up to them.

 

”show does not illusions the pool. Future, and past, present, shows it. Saw what you, know not I was what which it. In is the future always motion. Know does one his actions how not change affect.”

“A part is but The Force of death. Pawns are but we its chosen. Do mourn the lost not. The Force study and learn. Too way you that seek can to serve.”

 

Frond could feel the pain radiating clearly from Ficcabin’s mind and soul. Whatever it was that he had seen had been enough to sweep the youngling’s mind away from the calming tranquility that The Force offered to those who came Beyond Shadows. Frond also knew that sometimes quiet contemplation and directed focus were more healing than words.

 

Gently, the Neti wrapped a rough barky arm down around Ficcabin’s shoulders, slowly guiding him along another path through the jungles Beyond Shadows until they came to the edge of a great lake its surface shimmering in patches of wisping fog that grew thicker the further from shore they were. Standing at the shoreline, Frond extended his free arm, pointing to the humanoid wisps that seemed to float just beneath the surface but not touching the water; spiritual beings of the ethereal plane manifest in The Force.

 

”Look. Those have of who the spirits before gone. Those bound at peace and souls tormented for eternity. The Force holds of the womb equal, dark and light.”

 

Reaching into a freshly opening knothole in his chest, Frond carefully removed the perfectly cubed crystal, the inner gray striations swirling as much as the mists that seemingly made of Ficcabin’s soul. Carefully, he offered it to the Givin.

 

”Call you to this. It take, call I feel you to it. New being to I am while Jedi, have for generations communing The Force with I. Your mind open. The Force let call, speak guide you to. Here, freely in more than you the world knew The Force flows even. Your truth to let speak it soul. The crystal use to focus.”

Frond slowly lowered his hand from the Givin’s shoulder, leaving him to stare out at the water, the mists, and departed souls.

 

“Maybe can assist you then Frond.” Me are you ready find when will you.”

 

He added before turning around to shuffle back down a nearby path. Just before disappearing from sight, he turned one last time and repeated his warning,

 

”The water avoid.”

 

And with that, Frond shuffled back out of sight, following a path deep into the overgrown trees until he was deep in the humid unmoving air and trees. There, the Neti paused, the crystal within calling to him, urging him onwards, to follow its guidance.

 

With a swirl of blinding yellow light that radiated through the trees and the crack of wood, Frond’s body twisted and morphed as his limbs melded into his body and his feet grew downwards into the soil as his head vanished beneath a veneer of bark before splitting off into great expanding limbs covered in shimmering black leaves. Moments passed and where the humanoid Frond had stood now stood a mighty, if not slightly unnatural, tree covered in thick bark and glistening black leaves. His mighty limbs stretched outwards into the canopy above as his rooted feet wound through the earth below.

 

There, in that moment, Frond opened his mind up fully to The Force. His mind interwoven with the guidance of The Force and the thoughts of the crystal, Frond began to concentrate on the image that was given to him. The image was that of a simple short chunk of branch, the same color and texture as that of Frond’s vey body, but worn smooth. There was nothing on the exteriors of the hilt to mark as anything more than a simple fallen piece of branch. Inside though, inside was a different story. . .

XQ19Jfm.png
Link to comment
Share on other sites

Ficcabin listened to what the tree said about the Force and what the Givin saw in the pool. To be fair, he didn't understand it fully, partially because he had some trouble translating the grammar and partially because this was a subject that he did not approach easily. Death in Givin culture was never fully addressed or at least not that he knew about. It was as if a person's numerical value suddenly went to zero in an instant, with no way of gaining more. Dying was approaching zero, but there was always the hope that one could increase it. Hitting zero was tragic and difficult to handle.

 

Still, listening to Frond, letting the tree being lead him on, helped some. He didn't say anything, just nodded, fearful he would break down in fear again. He looked at the waters, the humanoid wisps slowly taking shape then quickly vanishing before being made out. Ficcabin shivered slightly at the thought of those people. He swore he mistranslated what Frond said. 'Those souls bound and tormented for eternity'? Where was the comfort in that? Still, it also brought a slight comfort in the fact that for these people, life didn't end at death, tormenting as it could be.

 

At the handing of the crystal, Ficcabin looked at Frond confused. How was he supposed to call to it? I'm not sure what you mean Frond, I mean, call it? My mind open? How do I... Ficcabin shut up, realizing he was neither helpful nor polite with all in his questionings. He was a guest in these strange lands, observing Frond do some meditations and constructing of some kind of weapon. But instead so far he has been nothing but a distraction.

 

Yes sir, I will try to, um, open my mind Ficcabin said and the tree had walked away, repeating its warning. Ficcabin didn't need to be reminded. The experience from the pool was still fresh. No, he would instead focus on this crystal Frond had handed to him.

 

But what exactly are you? Ficcabin asked aloud, holding the crystal up to the light, examining it carefully. It was strange. He first thought it must have been artificially made, for nothing naturally could create such a perfect cube. However after further examination, he noticed that there were some slight scratching on 4 of the 6 sides; places where it was held or ripped out? The other sides felt perfectly smooth. Ficcabin theorized that perhaps a constant stream of water had run on these sides while the crystal had grown from the others, but the edges near the smooth sides were too sharp and crisp for erosion. This thing was something of a mystery. It was only further complicated when Ficcabin realized that the crystal had a slight cooling effect, almost unnoticeable unless it was looked for. Even as Ficcabin held it between his fingers, he felt that while it continued to cool the air and his fingertips constantly, it refused to become warm. The mists inside the crystal moved slowly about, pushed by some unseen energy that was not heat.

 

Then Ficcabin gave voice to a very odd theory. Is this some kind of life form? Frond said that it called to me, at least I think that's what he said. But if that's true, why didn't I notice it before? But he had noticed it. When he met Frond, he had noted that he felt a yearning feeling of restlessness. Even now, as Ficcabin realized this, he felt that same feeling coming from the crystal. Restlessness. A yearning restlessness.

 

Ficcabin lowered his hand and wiped his forehead at the headache hidden inside. This all was a bit much for the young scientist. He looked out over the lake and collected himself again, avoiding looking directly at the lake itself and instead past it through the mists. He had truly entered a world he was not prepared for. This...Force, if it was such a thing, was complicated. If this crystal was alive, as Frond seemed to have suggested and as Ficcabin's own feelings seemed to indicate, and if he was supposed to use this crystal to focus to.... help it's soul speak out? How was he to do that?

 

By using the crystal as a focusing point he muttered to himself, as if it made sense. Still, Frond seemed to think that it was possible Ficcabin could do something, despite having zero training in whatever was going on in this world. He did say that this world was freer or something with how the Force flowed.

 

Ficcabin sighed and sat down at the water's edge. He felt the souls eyes on him. He tried to ignore it as he took a hold of the crystal in one hand and closed his eyes. He tried to shut out the entire world around him and focus on what he felt in his hands. The cooling touch of it, the smooth and rough edges, the perfect geometric shape....he turned it over and over in his hand, trying to focus more and more on nothing but the crystal.

 

He felt nothing from it. The yearning he had once felt from it quickly died out, as if his very focus smothered it to silence. Ficcabin looked at it, scared that he may have broke it. It still looked all right. It still felt cooling. Ficcabin tried to focus again. He decided to be more specific. He focused on each individual scratch. He concentrated on the way the edges were too sharp for erosion. How each of the faces of the cube was identical in size to the other faces. Every minute detail was in his mind's eye.

 

The crystal stayed dead.

 

Maybe he was approaching it in the wrong way. Ficcabin turned his thoughts on that feeling he felt from the crystal earlier. He had to try to make it up for himself since the crystal was no longer giving it off, but maybe he could bring it back. He focused himself once more. He tried to use

 

Ficcabin sighed in disappointment. Whatever Frond had wanted him to do, Ficcabin clearly failed. He placed the small object on the ground next to him, ashamed that he couldn't do this right. He gazed over the waters again and noticed the souls again, this time the mists becoming thicker near the edge that he was at. Frond said that these are the spirits that were gone. Were any of these from Corescant? Ficcabin tried to push the thought away, but the door was opened once more. The memory of what he saw flooded him again, and he felt the powerful fear of the vision. The madness of the people. The slaughtering. The moon crashing into the helpless planet, dooming all the life on both. So much death. So many numbers, rounded down to zero at once.

 

Come off it you dumb bonehead Ficcabin insulted himself, trying to work himself out of this feeling. Why in the world does the death of a few lives bother you?

 

Probably cause all those numbers still meant something, no matter who they were He silently thought to him. Because you fear that could happen to your own people that you left behind to see the stars. Because that could happen to you, in the matter of time it takes for a star to burn a molecule of hydrogen

 

So? You've known death could come since you left home. What is it about Corescant that scared you?

 

Because it’s the center of the universe. Because I've made friends there. Because it's a place like no other. An entire planet dedicated to civilization. Such a wonder cannot, no, shouldn't be lost so easily

 

These thoughts ran on for a while. A voiced question followed by a silent answer, followed by another question. But as Ficcabin carried on, that feeling, that yearning, slowly came back. The crystal felt Ficcabin's questionings and answering. Unbeknownst to him, the crystal was aiding him. Whether it was aiding him by encouraging an answering his own questionings or tricking him to actually ask the questions so he would answer them, was unknown. But its effect was obvious. Ficcabin was becoming more and more verbal, where both questions and answers were voiced to the mists.

 

But if the theory is wrong, then life has no meaning. And all my work is for nothing. All the work for all Givin philosophers is for nothing. But why is that bad? I don't know, maybe it isn't. Maybe that would help us move on towards better things. But that would be a lie revealed too. What lie? Well, the lie that we...

 

Ficcabin stopped, finally noticing the feeling, that yearning. It was impossible to miss now. It was as strong as the gravity from a star. Ficcabin wondered for a few seconds as he picked the crystal up again and studied it. When the presence began to fade under his scrutinizing eye and thoughts, he tested a theory. He stopped thinking on the crystal and turned his own thoughts inwards. Did he miss Yag-Dhul? Did he miss Coruscant? Yes and no. Both planets were something to admire but his home was the stars. The presence grew stronger and Ficcabin felt another question rise within him. But more importantly, a fact arose within him.

 

You are curious. Like me, you want to learn?

 

Ficcabin wasn't sure how much time had passed, or how much more time would pass, but he continued to ask and answer questions. At first they were only things about beliefs, goals, dreams....then they became about more factual tangible things, like how fast a star would burn with one material over another, or at what speed one could land a ship on a planet without harm. Eventually it was names, dates, and events. Ficcabin asked and answered questions about everything, wherever his mind wandered, but always aware of the crystal's presence as well. He made mental notes where the crystal seemed to grow and shine the most at. He noticed that it seemed to appreciate (if Ficabbin could use the word in this situation) with the deeper questions about Ficcabin's personality and less so about solid facts, but it also seemed to react well to Ficcabin's imaginative wonderings. And so he focused on those questions more so.

 

Time passed for Ficcabin. He didn't know what had happened to Frond or what was happening around him. He was too absorbed in his questioning and answering.

 

He didn't mind.

MX8p3j4.png
Link to comment
Share on other sites

Inside the simple piece of not just wood, but what was to be an extension of Frond’s very being, the interworking of a complex lightsaber were on display deep within Frond’s mind. Even if he consciously did not know what each of the pieces were or what purpose they served, subconsciously, he did. If he concentrated too hard the idea would slip away like a dream upon waking, but if he simply opened his mind to The Force, the ideas were there, slowly forming within his own mind, and by extension, planting the roots for the components to grow within his own body. Each piece would be a seed of Frond’s own physical form. It would be a tool made of the same substance that he was of, bound to the fanciful plain he found himself on. Together, they would be one and the same. Two pieces of the same being, carrying two entities within united in body and goal. Together, the balance would be returned by their coordination, cooperation, and unity.

 

The crystal breathed through Frond, implanting the thoughts and ideas of an ancient saber design, a design so unique and complex that none, but a plant-based servant of The Force could attain it.

 

There, in the silence, Frond allowed waves of The Force to wash over him, mind body and soul, more so than he had ever been taught to do as a Mind Walker. Then, he had come to bathe in the glow of The Force; to let it wash the impurities of his mortal form from his mind and soul. Now, he opened himself up fully. There amongst the overgrown spiritual trees of this force based netherworld, Frond allowed himself to be carried by the tide, washed over, cleansed and baptized in its holy aura.

 

Within his body, Frond could feel the crystal, nestled safely within the grainy interior of a branched tendril off his head slowly begin to move, guided by The Force itself. The crystal, as slow as a tree enveloping a long abandoned swoop in the forests of Endor, tumbled and churned within; Frond’s body growing around the green and red cracked gem, as it worked its way from his head towards what could only be the heart of the Neti; his very core. What his mind had known for eons, his heart fully accepted. He was a servant. The Force was not his. He belonged to The Force, fully and entirely. Nothing else mattered. Ships, beings, crystals. The Force was all that was and is and was to be. All else would be washed away as The Force willed.

 

As the crystal began to migrate, so did the seeds and palps that had erupted within Frond’s trunk, tendrils, limbs and bark. All pieces of his own form that would slowly migrate together and grow as one to form the tool that The Force deemed necessary for him to fulfill its will. And all of this took place within the unmoving treelike form that was Frond, just another tree in the great jungled surface that was the Realm Beyond Shadows. The only sign that The Force was breathing through him was the sporadic rustling of his leaves, sometimes softly and sometimes as if blown by an unseen and unfelt gale; thrashing his limbs about whenever The Force encountered resistance as it guided the components towards one another.

 

Many times had Frond mediated on The Force and its will, both here Beyond Shadows and in the mortal world; but never had Frond so fully opened himself up to it before when already immersed in it Beyond Shadows. He had been content to sit by as a watcher and listener. Now, it was clear that he was being called forth to act on what The Force had showed him. This saber was but a test of The Force to see how far the pacifistic Frond would go in his calling.

 

Yet there was still something missing. In all the growing of components and the opening of his mind, Frond could feel the knowledge the saber presented him. Each and every component he was slowly beginning to grow within himself. The only thing that was not of his own body was the crystal; yet still, the crystal called, yearned as it seemingly reached out on the waves of The Force searching for the crystal that Frond had given to Ficcabin. When it could not feel it within its limited sphere that was when the crystal proverbially slapped Frond’s mind. Rustling the entire giant tree.

 

He needed a second crystal.

 

In that moment, Frond’s mind began to struggle, immersed in The Force as it was. He had given the crystal that called to Ficcabin to the GIvin. Yet still, he needed a second crystal, one to focus the blade and one to channel and direct the energy of the blade. TO the crystal, it did not matter. It had served many masters, both dark and light, always to the same purpose; to bring about balance by the blade of the sword. That is what mattered to the crystal, darkness and light swirled as one, the darkness calling out to forsake all others for the purpose of bringing balance. The light calling for restraint as one sought in all things to achieve the balance of The Force. Two means to the same end. Frond felt called towards the same far off goal; but like so many, The Force would lead him, yet he had to take the final step. What would he do now?

 

Frond’s mind raced with this knowledge as he sought to search his vast stores of memories and knowledge of The Force and what it had taught him over the years; but he could find no clear answer. He had seen visages of great darkness and great light. Had felt them clash so mightily that it stirred the very heart of the galaxy. Frond had witnessed from afar the rise and downfall of empires and tyrants of kings and archons. But now, in this moment, Frond, for the first time in a long time, felt that he had a choice. He was not blindly following The Force, it was guiding him. He was a servant, entrusted with the power and responsibility to carry out its will in this mortal realm.

 

There in the sheltered jungle Beyond Shadows, Frond stood. He had to decide. He needed a second crystal. To what ends would he go to achieve it.

XQ19Jfm.png
Link to comment
Share on other sites

As Oni floated effortlessly within the void known as hell, he felt something lifted from upon his soul and his name called out. It was not the name he had been called for so long, but that of his true name, a name he had shed so long ago that he barely recognized it. It was his birth name, a name that once held meaning on both Coruscant and on Nar Shadaa, but was lost to the sands of time as his father went bankrupt and his family slowly perished, leaving him alone and in servitude. "Neo Krell..."

 

His eyes shot open, the tone all too familiar in that it mimicked his own, his gaze falling upon a nearly identical copy of himself. Neo sat there floating, his once blackened hair now silver, yet his brown irides still evident of their dark amber hue as he faced the demon before him. The being was Oni, the beast he had became over the years, the mutation that tainted his soul. And his eyes were glazed in onyx, peering back at him in disdain. He stood before the beast, and the beast stood before he, eyes deadlocked as if looking into a parallel world of a looking glass. Finally Neo spoke, his tone just as disdainful. "Oni"

 

The beast began to laugh, running his fingers through the blonde locks that he had taken up when he erased their shared history and became the sole survivor of the life they had lived together. "Why do you hate me so, dear Neo?" He posed, not shift his gaze even as he looked downward from his tilted head. "Why have you never truly embraced the live I have given you? The freedom I let you grasp? The power I granted? The strength I gave?"

 

Neo simply kept his stare, his composure calm and collected, as he gazed at the demon that had plagued him for over a decade of his life. "Because it was never yours." He spoke with little anger, though he barred his teeth as he spoke, fighting back the hatred he truly held for the disease. "You were nothing but a disease, a bane upon my existence, a taint that plagued me and become no more than a parasite upon my life. You became what you are because I allowed you to."

 

"Allowed?!" The beast questioned as he roared with fury. "How can you say that Neo. I am a part of you. I am the anger and hatred that resides in you, I am the power that fuels your gifts, I am the blood that boils in your veins, and I am your soul." The beast's fangs flared as he finished, his gaze glowing bright red as steam seemed to flare from its breath as it stood before Neo enraged, hunching in dismay.

 

"You were nothing but an vial of experimental solution, fed into my body through an iv tube, a disease injected into me against my will so that my friend could be freed." Neo spoke in return, his gaze shifting down upon their reflections below them in sorrow before it returned to the beast before him. "I allowed you to grow into the stain upon my soul out of ignorance and betrayal, believing that if I could grow powerful enough, that I could rid myself of you. By doing so, I allowed you to become what you are."

 

"Without me, you are weak, Neo. The beast snarled in response, knowing the exorcist had severed their connection and cleansed Neo of their bond. "You will serve no purpose among our brethren, become nothing but a hindrance to them."

 

"Or perhaps I will become stronger without the hindrance of your existence." Neo said with a laugh, knowing full well that Oni died at Kuat and he was finally free of the disease that stood before him. "Only time will tell which of us speaks the truth."

 

"But there is no darkness in you, nor light. You have nothing to offer nor gain by letting me go." Oni spoke in one last attempt to change Neo's mind.

 

"But you are wrong there, dearest Oni." Neo spoke as Oni began to slowly fade away before him, the beast growing ever transparent as the moments faded. "I am sentient. There exists both light and dark in me. Always will be. Even I am not above that law. I may be as compassionate as I am vengeful, but my loyalty is unwavering. I am Sith if only by decree, and in that, it is all I need."

 

As Oni disappeared into the nothingness of the void, he left one final linger question. "And what if they disagree?"

 

And as Neo closed his eyes once more, he replied in a humbled tone. "Then so shall it be.

Link to comment
Share on other sites

Ficcabin was not aware how much time had passed. What had felt like hours to him may have been either just minutes or decades for everyone else. He did not become more aware that the passage of time was eluding him until something inside pulled at him. While the feeling that Ficcabin had was more complicated then that, he could only simplify it to a 'pulling'. To take the time to put to words what Ficcabin felt would've been a task too time consuming and complicated for him. Pulling would do for now.

 

As the Givin stood up, he legs wobbled a bit underneath him from being at rest for so long. He gripped the crystal in one hand, finding a deeper value in it now. While he had made no headway in studying it, it had obviously studied him, as he put it. He glanced at it quickly, noting how the cloudy underside was swirling more rapidly now. While he reasoned it could be from the heat it had absorbed from Ficcabin's bony hands, Ficcabin theorized it was something more complicated then that, not that the study of energy interacting with an unknown, possibly living, mineral wasn't complicated. The more Ficcabin thought about the crystal, the more eager he was in studying it. It felt almost alive to him, but this seemed impossible. He had not heard of a non-carbon based life form before. Still, he hadn't heard of traveling to other places instantaneously by sitting with a tree person either...

 

As Ficcabin walked towards the pulling feeling, pushing his way through branches and tall grass, Ficcabin noticed something that he was shocked he hadn't noticed before: he was not hungry. If time had passed as much as he felt like it had, he should've been eating right now to make sure his body would be ready for any kind of emergency. Givins tended to eat before every space trip because their bodies could produce and store what they needed to survive. This, as well as their sealed body structure, enabled them to survive periods of time in the vacuum without breathing.

 

This realization made him wonder. "Perhaps I am having an 'out of body' experience. Maybe all of this is a vivid, complex hallucination. After all, that tree person could be like the Zeltron or something, being able to affect the mind, or maybe I got drugged when I first landed on Illum." . The crystal in his hand gave off the feeling Ficcabin called curiosity. He needed to prove this for himself whether or not this was real.

 

The Givin stopped in his tracks, ignoring the pulling feeling once more. Feeling the plant life around him, not recognizing any of them, he found that at the tips of the leaves were small tan pods, no bigger then a pebble. These seeds, rigid and coarse to the touch, came off easily when Ficcabin purposely touched them. He began to gather some of the seeds and fill his spare pocket with them. If this truly was an out of body experience, when he would 'wake up' these seeds would not be in his pocket. But if they were, then Ficcabin would have something more to study, counting both the Force and these seeds.

 

Done with his little detour, Ficcabin continued through the undergrowth, eventually standing before the entrance to a courtyard of high walls, overgrown to the point that anything artificially made was covered with moss, weeds and leaves, rendering Ficcabin unable to tell if the walls were made of stone or something else. The air was no longer silent as Ficcabin got closer. A quiet cacophony of incomprehensible whispers seemed to come from inside. Ficcabin stepped in carefully, noticing how cold the air had become. Glancing around, he saw nobody and wondered.

 

"Hello? Is there anyone here?" Ficcabin called out. The whisperings did not stop, nor get louder. Ficcabin took another step in, the pulling feeling stronger now. At the center of the overgrown courtyard Ficcabin could see a stone fountain, untouched by the plant life, which seemed to stop at about a foot away from the fountain's base. Ficcabin approached it, now seeing that it was filled. A liquid, thick, red and smooth as glass, sat inside, unmoving.

 

Curious, Ficcabin took a seed from his pocket and dropped it inside. The small thing fell like a stone, landing on the liquid for a moment, then sank, leaving not a ripple. Suddenly the whispers were louder now, and the pulling sensation Ficcabin had felt had become irresistible, calling the scientist to drink and study the power that was held inside. It would be so easy to. Ficcabin's hands touched the outside edges of the fountain, unable to resist the pull. Gravity was taking a hold of his soul here. To ignore this pull was to ignore the nature of the universe. To answer it was to control the universe itself...

 

Ficcabin stopped, his hands hovering just above the liquid, a centimeter from being dipped inside. The warning Frond had given flashed in his memory. Ficcabin didn't know what happened next. The moment was a blur. All Ficcabin could remember that there was a high-pitched scream, trampling of leaves, and running. Ficcabin, tearing through the undergrowth once more like death was at his heels.

MX8p3j4.png
Link to comment
Share on other sites

With a flash of yellow, the massive black-leaved tree that was Frond twisted and arched downward into a compact humanoid form; his canopy compressing downwards to form two thick limbs with viney tendrilled fingers reaching outwards as his stump and trunk cracked upwards, the roots beneath them pulling and pushing upwards into thick masses of twisted vines, roots, and bark resembling legs.

 

Darkness. . .

 

Light. . . .

 

One bound as together

 

He knew what he needed to do. Frond knew that he needed to complete his lightsaber. Whatever the choice he followed, The Force was clear in one thing; he needed to serve The Force and restore the balance.

 

Just then, the peaceful still air was cracked by a single slitting scream. Frond recognized the voice as that of Ficcabin Yule, the youngling he had brought Beyond Shadows. Letting out a sigh that radiated from his pores that rattles and shook the leaves atop his head, Frond shuffled through the trees as quickly as his flora-based limbs would carry the ambling giant.

 

Before long, the crashing of underbrush came towards him, The Force guiding the duo towards one another. In a moment, Ficcabin appeared in front of Frond, as they nearly collided. Reaching out, Frond scooped the skeletal framed being up in his elongated powerful arms, cradling him to his chest. The aura that radiated from the young Givin was unsettling. Frond slowly breathed, allowing his breath to carry the inner calm and sadness that he always strove to hold onto over the quivering mass of being in his arms. Whatever had happened had clearly disturbed the youngling. It had been a long time since Frond had walked with a virgin of the realm, and never alone without his fellow Mind Walkers; shadows of their own slowly beginning to materialize out of the fog, drawn by the shouts of concern.

 

There were not as many as there once had been, but still, the sacredness of the plane had been violated and Frond would need to right it quickly before consequences were had.

 

”Yourself Ficcabin Yule calm brother. Strange and powerful The Force is. You first know that the knowing is not. Mind to the open your possibility. That are you embrace one servant but miniscule. Out breathe. Breathe in. To wash allow your mind through The Force, calm to your soul.”

 

Mentally, Frond’s mind could see and feel the quivering mass that was Ficcabin Yule. Carefully, unsure of what he was doing, Frond tried to reach out, to allow his mind to press up to that of Ficcabin’s. He wanted to help the youngling, to guide him. He could not do that if the Givin feared The Force. So, to the best of his ability, Frond stood there, his feet rooted in the dirt, holding his comrade until he could bring himself to a point of self-control.

 

Then, once Ficcabin had calmed, Frond gently set him on the tender green mossy earth and offered a reassuring woody smile.

 

”Another vision? Did what see you? You avoid the Pool of Knowledge perhaps should. If willing are you, help a task I have The Force to focus you on. My second body requires the saber crystal within a growing. Chosen has your crystal you have. Me help this place in a suitable find here will you in crystal find?”

 

Internally, Frond’s body continued to grow the parts he needed for the lightsaber that would house the crystal nestled safety within his very heartwood. The crystal itself still called to Frond, yearning to alight and fulfill the destiny The Force had implanted in it so many lifetimes before. And yet, the crystal continued to search; having lead Frond towards Ficcabin and his geometrically perfect crystal. It did not care about Ficcabin, its fellow crystals, its purpose was singular: Balance The Force by striking down they that sought to distort its guidance.

XQ19Jfm.png
Link to comment
Share on other sites

Ficcabin was breathing rapidly as the tree held him. The panic was still fresh and powerful in his mind, and on top of it, it brought back the images from the pool he saw earlier. At this point, this place was pure madness to him. Visions of planets getting destroyed, talks about the dead in lakes, fountains and whisperings of power, all these things were driving Ficcabin mad. Had it not been for his ritual to turn back and count the numbers again and again, growing more softly each time, as well as the words and presence of Frond, he would have snapped completely.

 

However, he did snap a little bit. Frond's words that Ficcabin could only understand when he took time to translate only confused him further and in his panic, he nearly shouted at the tree.

 

"What in the name of the prime numbers do you mean? First know that the knowing is not? Mind to the open? What servant? Zero under you stupid tree, you probably can't even count to three!

 

Even as the words left Ficcabin, remorse instantly followed. He was being stupid. He was acting like a coward. Had he not done crazier stunts in his own ship? Had not his home planet been nearly more deadly then this place? This remorse stopped Ficcabin for a moment, allowing that serene peacefulness of the environment to envelop him. It was refreshing after that run of pure panic. Ficcabin almost wondered what it would be like just to let it take him.

 

"I'm sorry, that was rude of me. Its just that... " Ficcabin gave out a sigh. "I'm sorry."

 

Ficcabin listened to the tree's words and this time did try to understand them.

 

"It wasn't a vision exactly. It was more... a pull" Ficcabin swore inside his head. How he hated such a simple definition for such a complex feeling. Like gravity itself was pulling my spirit or something, but it wasn't a pull, more like a call, one that i could resist but grew harder to the more i listened. It was..." Ficcabin paused and moved his hands in the air, trying to find the right word but ended up again with "a pull. From some kind of fountain if that makes any sense. I dropped something in it. I...can't remember what though to be honest." What had he dropped in it? It wasn't his own crystal, he could still feel it in his right hand.

 

Ficcabin nodded at the rest of Frond's words, realizing he hadn't done much studying of the Force. Perhaps he should've done from the start was just to listen to the tree. His independent walking had been dangerous to his sanity. He thought for a moment trying to figure out what he had seen that could serve as a crystal. The only things he had seen was the pool, the lake, that fountain and...

 

Ficcabin pulled out a few seeds from his pocket. The small, coarse objects were an unknown material to him. He thought they were organic but without testing, it could be anything in this place.

 

"I dropped one" Ficcabin suddenly remembered. "In the fountain, I dropped a seed into it. That's when I ran, cause it felt like there was something there. Like I had disturbed a great angry thing. A presence or something. Like you know how everywhere here it feels calm? It was like the fountain had an air of a wild animal the one moment I dropped the seed. Maybe there's a crystal or something there? Its hard to explain but its like...it's like the feeling I got from there, from the fountain and the feeling I get from my crystal here are related."

MX8p3j4.png
Link to comment
Share on other sites

Deep in the overgrown jungles Beyond Shadows, Frond listened to Ficcabin carry on without responding. It was natural for younglings to be overwhelmed by their first foray into trying to understand The Force. Even he had to be gently ushered into the workings of The Force of the ages. Feeling his insides slowly twisting and growing, Frond knew that his saber was forming within. Even so, he knew that in spite of the crystal’s desire to go forth and regain balance by the sword, Frond could see the opportunity to tip the scales towards the side of the light. He had a chance to tiptoe closer to the balance by helping this young seeker of the Jedi find his path.

 

Stooping down, Frond gently plucked the cuboid swirling gray crystal from Ficcabin’s hand, setting it on the mossy ground beside the Givin. He lowered himself to the moss as well, his legs crossed beneath him.

 

”the call of you felt The Force, perhaps The Font of Power. Power and knowledge gives The Force. To understand truly, understand must both one. No power with and knowledge, creeps ever the darkness forward, the balance tilting. Power with, but no rules knowledge supreme chaos. Felt the darkness you. Called you to it. Understand it you must, but it resist you must.

Here sit, the calm in. The Force to allow over the breath of you wash. All clear distractions of your mind. Your eyes Brother Ficcabin close. All The Force feel around. The moss. The air. The crystals. The trees. Me. You. Things all living. Created all things.

Breathe now. To that around reach you out immediately. Feel.”

 

Frond knew that if anywhere, here Beyond Shadows, The Force was the most potent, raw, and available. Even their bodies here were but manifestations of The Force. He hoped that by sitting down with Ficcabin, instead of explaining and hoping that the mathematical being could work out the results, that he could help Ficcabin eventually find his connection to the all-encompassing cosmic force. Only then could Frond begin to help his fellow sojourner seek the answers that he sought.

XQ19Jfm.png
Link to comment
Share on other sites

The Force is strong. The force is alive. The force is good. It knows peace, pain and sorrow. It knows anger and it knows sadness. It thinks and wonders. It rages. It weeps. It asks. The force is life. The force is Death. The force is all. The force is one.

 

 

Ficcabin followed suit with the tree, sitting cross-legged before him. Perhaps he was about to learn something. The tree's words were of a teaching kind. This appeared to be a kind of lesson. Even as he listened, he shivered as he silently translated what was said. The Force gave power and knowledge was interesting, but was that based on the pool of knowledge and the so-called font?

 

"Darkness? You mean, what I had felt earlier? That pull?" Surprisingly, Frond's words made Ficcabin more curious then fearful, though he didn't dare ask what was the purpose of resisting this so called 'darkness'. He had after all ran away from it already in fear after what he guessed refused its pull.

 

As Frond gave the instructions, Ficcabin hesitated to follow for only a moment, wondering if this was just a trick. Still, he had nothing else to do and he didn't dare upset the tree further. He felt like he had done more damage then good right now, disturbing the tree's meditations or whatever. So Ficcabin closed his eyes.

 

"Allow the force to wash..." Ficcabin muttered his translation almost near silently. He tried to clear the distractions. But as he did so, his mind kept having theories about what was happening. This was similar to what the tree had done that brought the two here originally. A clearing of the mind. Perhaps this was a trick...

 

Still Ficcabin attempted to obey. Eyes shut, skull head high, hands resting on his knees, the small Givin tried to focus. Each thing the tree described Ficcabin tried to focus on, as if he could see it. He tried to conjure up an image in his head of what the trees looked like. How the leaves felt between his fingers when he pulled the seeds off. He tried to remember the chemical formulas that most plants carried, and how they related to his grand theory...

 

Ficcabin shook his head, noticing his mind just wandered. Focus! he silently shouted at himself. He repeated the process, but eventually came to the same conclusion. If Ficcabin had been a human, his forehead would've creased in annoyance. He attempted a third time, hoping for better luck. But as he repeated the steps again, this time trying to focus on Frond and how both tree-like and man-like he was and how he probably was some weird cosmic oddity, he noticed the presence of his crystal again.

 

That yearning feeling this time guided Ficcabin, in the same way a shooting star guides shamans to great conclusions: in a roundabout way. Ficcabin thought how when he focused on the details of the crystal, it's presence left him. But when he tested out focusing on nothing but questions, on his own base instinctual desire to question himself, he had found it again. Perhaps...

 

"Let the Force wash over me" Ficcabin muttered, a hint of understanding in his voice. He didn't need to force it to come to him. He needed to let it flow to him. Let him be like the vacuum on Yag'Dhul where the waters or the air would rush. He needed to clear his mind, not fill it up. He needed to calm his mind, not force it to work. He needed to slow himself down...

 

two...three...five... Slowly, the Givin chanted the numbers that came to him like instinct. Years of studying numbers over and over had made numbers his best tool. As he chanted, the thoughts of everything began to drift away. It was instead replaced with a feeling. A pure feeling that Ficcabin had only felt in the most dangerous of moments. When his ship crashed on Illum. When he met the Jedi. When he first arrived here. A kind of feeling when a dream slipped into reality. Or perhaps this was reality slipping into a dream.

 

seventeen...nineteen...twenty-one... the serene peace flowed into the Givin. In his mind's eye he couldn't see but he could feel the presence of the crystal before him. But there was more now. There was the grass the crystal sat on. The ground the grass grew from. The roots that escaped the ground into the trees. The leaves that hung off the leaves, bearing small seeds of life. An excitement began to grow inside Ficcabin.

 

One hundred and one...One hundred and three...one hundred and sev- Ficcabin stopped. For the briefest of moments he felt like the leaves around the two had moved. There was a moment of perfect serenity. He opened his eyes and looked around curious. There had been no wind in this place since he got here. He looked back at the tree, eyes holding a curiosity that a Givin experienced when they were but children.

 

"What....that.. Ficcabin was speechless. "Was that...is that the Force?

MX8p3j4.png
Link to comment
Share on other sites

Frond smiled warmly as he felt a shift in The Force as the Giving sitting in front of him was able to find a palpable moving connection to the world all around them.

 

”All The Force around is you. To just need it realize you.”

 

He calmly explained as he gestured to the trees and hanging vines all around them.

 

”Up made is The Force of this world, simple and pure. Untainted is by the mind fallacies of it. Is but this a taste. Together, we let delve of The Force sojourn us into as the truths. First, you shall know what we already learn. Me this angry presence take to.”

 

Carefully Frond stood, his aged wooden legs creaking audibly beneath the massive weight of his compressed plant-based frame. Frond felt he knew what the disturbance that Ficcabin had spoken of, but he wanted to be sure. It was not hard for other presences to infiltrate Beyond Shadows; not that it really mattered. All would be as The Force willed it. Yet still, The Force had willed Frond to help restore the balance. If Ficcabin led him to the Font of Power, Frond would know that all was as it had been. Frond needed to be sure that Ficcabin was not lured by the draw of the darkness. That power was strong and seeping. If Ficcabin were drawn into it, Frond would be forced to react and this young seeker did not know any better. Frond would be forced to destroy him.

 

Gesturing to Ficcabin’s crystal, he smiled, indicating his fellow should bring it with them. The duo then set off under the cover of brush, retracing Ficcabin’s ambling steps that he had carved in his screaming frenzy. This time, however, Frond spoke softly as they travelled, trying to gently explain and guide his fellow Force-user.

 

”Feel The Force. Not force it do. Both the ground on and above to guide it allow your steps. Physical shell your, spirit your, and thoughts your guide The Force let. Fight do not. Your fears release. But we embrace that are pawns. Are servants we. Deemed stand all that with is right. A light of beacon the become.”

 

Together they meandered through the underbrush, Frond carefully allowing Ficcabin Yule to gradually take the lead by a half step or so, hoping to see if the Givin could let The Force guide them to where he had felt the presence.

XQ19Jfm.png
Link to comment
Share on other sites

Ficcabin listened intently, like a child before an elder telling the secrets of the universe. Truth be told, that was what Ficcabin felt like. However this whole experience did make him feel like a child. At the command, Ficcabin stood, nodded, and then paused.

 

Which way was the correct way?

 

Ficcabin looked at the underbrush and was slightly horrified to see that the place, with all of the leaves and the grass, had settled itself back into their original places, as if nothing had disturbed them. The pause lasted only for a few moments, but to a recently panicked individual, that could feel much longer than a second or two. At the gesture towards the crystal, Ficcabin breathed thanks and picked it up, its slight coolness a comfort in his hand. It helped him calm his thoughts down again, reminding him to simply repeat a few numbers quietly.

 

" 1, 1, 2, 3, 5, 8... " The scientist muttered. Already he could feel the presence seep in, especially with what was in his crystal. But this time, he could also feel that pull again. It was distant, and not like that violent sensation that forced him to run earlier. His first instinct was to flee from in. To run towards anything else, or to clutch to Frond's woody exterior. Instead, he started to take steps towards the pull, albeit hesitantly.

 

Ficcabin had a thought. "You said the Force is made up of this world, correct? Then why are there such vast different feelings. Earlier I felt a pulling sensation, then it was a terrifying presence, but then when I focused here it was that almost intoxicating feeling of peace. And you said there is Dark and Light...why do those exist exactly?

 

As the two walked, Ficcabin nervously leading the way, the environment got cooler and cooler to the soul. Ficcabin didn't say it, but the pull was stronger. But instead of curiosity, it was a fear that was growing. If not for Frond, and his own little drive inside to discover more about the Force, he would've turned back. But instead he went forward, the courtyard just appearing in sight through the mist.

MX8p3j4.png
Link to comment
Share on other sites

Gesturing around them as they walked, Frond tried to clarify,

 

”This world. Made of The Force it is up. This realm the true Force is. A realm false our bodies occupy a mortal. There, guides us The Force. The Force is here the truth.

 

Through the stagnant mists the crumbling ruins that contained the courtyard that contained the ageless ancient Font of Power came into view. Amongst the unmoving air came the hissing whispers of disembodied voices mumbling and tempting in their forgotten tongues. As they paused outside, the darkness pushing on their very souls, Frond held up a gnarled knuckled tendril of a finger,

 

”That. Darkness, here even, overwhelm it to the light seeks. A balance The Force is. Not right is Light. Not dark is wrong. Contain both evil and good. Two sides, but light and dark is The Force that are of the crystalline power facetted endlessly. Knowledge and power, light and darkness, peace and passion serenity and chaos, death and life are within all the facets of The Force contained.

Seek understanding you. All aspects to your mind open, embrace do not but them. Need you find to will that The Force which equalizes. Restore we can the equality.

Light.

Dark.”

 

Frond raised his left hand and then his right as he finished his explanation of his own cause that he sought to bring the mathematical Ficcabin into. He then made his way in towards the steps that led downwards to the raised dais and the water contained within. The Neti was pleased with how Ficcabin had been able to lead them back to the Font of Power, having allowed The Force to guide him here, even if it was the draw of the dark side.

 

As they approached the still waters, Frond gingerly placed his hands on the smooth stone edge above the waters.

 

”Desire if you power, where it may attained be here. Brother Ficcabin power do seek you? Warned be, baptize yourself once there in you no return. With your power, The Jedi will you make of yourself an enemy. Return light and dark of the balance you will we seek to destroy.

Too power and knowledge be balanced must. Knowledge without, power destroys. Power without, is useless knowledge.”

 

Staring down into the sightless depths of the dark formless water, Frond stood in silence. Here is where the Givin had spoken of a seed he had dropped into the waters. Perhaps it was something that he could use to complete the saber that even know was growing within his heartwood. Unlike they that could reach out and touch The Force as its pawns, Frond had very little experience with items of the physical plain, even here in this Force-based plain.

 

Closing his eyes, Frond thought back to the lessons that Sandy had taught him back on Felucia. Reaching out with his mind, Frond sought to reach out and find the dropped seed. As he reached, he encountered a barricade of pure darkness; the surface of the font. Grimacing, he forced his mind past it, swimming down into the waters of swirling darkness until he came to the cool smooth bottom of the font, hidden from sight. From there, his mind began to branch out along the smooth, unlettered stony bottom. Eventually, his mind located a small single semi-spherical seed that had no right churning at the bottom of the darkness infused waters.

 

have the seed I found

 

Carefully, Frond allowed his mind to wrap around the seed, creating an invisible barrier no thicker than a molecule, putting off the darkness that surrounded it until all that remained was the seed, its natural fibers calcified and twisted by the all-consuming power it had been immersed in. Released a breath from his body that caused his leaves to rustle and twist in an invisible unfelt breeze as the very Force blew through them, causing them to rustle. Then, as Sandy had taught him, he pulled, allowing the invisible tendrils of The Force to draw the seed upwards along the invisible roots of The Force towards him. Instead of gently rising out of the water towards Frond’s now outstretched hand, the seed rocketed upwards, splashing water upwards disturbing the tranquil surface and peaceful dark calm that enveloped the area. Up and up, higher and higher into the cloud swirled air and out of sight; but still, Frond could still feel it as it hurtled through the air.

 

Opening his eyes, Frond looked at Ficcabin, offering an embarrassed smile,

 

”Am learning too I. Always The Force is teaching us. Listen and learn but to we have.””

 

Just then, the seed clattered with the sound of a glass sphere on stone to the cobbles behind them. Turning, Frond stooped over and picked up the tiny seed. He could feel the dark power radiating from the seed as inwardly the crystal that had found its way to his core churned with approval. This would do.

XQ19Jfm.png
Link to comment
Share on other sites

Neo once again opened his eyes momentarily, laying within the endless void as sound, sight, perception, all non existent. It was an endless pit of misery, a void where senses were taken, and the mind only to wonder. It was meant to drive beasts mad with strife. But not he. He embraced the calmness, absorbed the peace like a sponge, and found tranquility in the knowledge that he was rid of Oni forever. With that fact alone, he was content with the nothingness that enveloped him, and accepted his forever. However, this was not meant to be.

 

"Neo Krell". A booming voice penetrated the silence once again, this time a voice he had only once felt call upon him before. "Awaken and arise Neo Krell, my pupil, my Alcazarin."

 

"And if I do not wish to?" Neo responded, a hint of temper flaring as he still floated within the void, only one eye peaking open as it gazed around the endless darkness. "The Alcazarins are dead, a farce creation by my former Master and his grandeur of glory and rise to power."

 

"I only gifted you the power." It spoke back, its tone calm in spite of Neo's agitation as a unknowing power reached forth and plucked the Sith Master from his comfort and rose him to his feet. "I never spoke about how it was used. Dominus chose his own, as did you and the others."

 

Neo simply stood there, his silver hair draped upon his shoulders like a cloak, as he considered the words that were spoken. "Then what was the purpose of it all? We were meant to end the infighting that plagued our Order, evident by our bond. But all it led to was hunger for status and power."

 

"Just because you do not hunger for status and power does not mean others will not." It spoke with a boom fit of laughter, so heavy that Neo could feel the ripples of its power flowing through the abyss. "Even Jedi are known to lust over the very same thing. Padawan to Knight, Knight to Master, Master to Council. Some even aspire to lead their Order. I, myself, even sought after such things. This is the nature of mortality."

 

"I have no such inspirations." Neo replied, this time sitting upon the reflective pool beneath him and crossing his legs, still content on remaining here and away from all that was touched by his hands as Darth Oni. "Now leave me be."

 

"I'm afraid that I cannot do that Alcazarin." He spoke back, a fissure beginning to form before Neo, illumination a deep red glow from its other side. "You're path is not yet finished, whether as an Alcazarin or as a Sith. You must continue on or be forced to watch what you cannot control."

 

Gazing into the fissure, Neo questioned the Darth that had once taught him the skills of the Alcazarin. "What do you mean?

 

"Arise and awaken." It spoke for the final time, its tone seemingly fading into the distance as it gave a final warning. "You will know soon enough Neo Krell."

 

And with that, Neo feel the pull of the fissure as it began to grow and splice in every direction around him, the cracking sound mimicking glass as it began to shatter. Neo wondered what was beginning to happen, but as he stood to investigate, the abyss around him shattered like a globe, and Neo felt himself forcefully pulled from within by forces unknown as the red glow enveloped his form, Neo's hell torn asunder in one fell swoop.

Link to comment
Share on other sites

Ficcabin nodded, though didn't fully understand. Maybe he was mistranslating it, maybe something else, but he figured this would take time. Still, he appreciated Frond attempts to explain to Ficcabin. How can everything in 'this world' be the Force? He was a scientist seeking a scientific explanation to something that he only recently discovered and was getting the mystical definition.

 

Still, when the tree began to use the number of two to help define the force, complete with ideals of dualism, Ficcabin felt he was approaching understanding. Numbers always helped a Givin understand the world. But at the same time, this explanation confused him as well. If knowledge as light and power as dark were two different sides, which he would argue to the end all worlds, why would one not be bad and the other good?

 

So if the force is two, but not dualistic, is it more like one with two sides? The one force, if I may put an idea forth? Ficcabin thought a moment to come up with an idea as a metaphor for what he meant. Like not a coin with two opposing sides where one is supreme at a time but a math equation, where both sides always are the same? But the force is on one side, and this...light and dark on the other? The Force is light and dark?

 

When the two made it to the courtyard and Frond went in further, Ficcabin stalled a moment, the whisperings distracting him for a moment. It was clear that Frond had meant this to be the representation as this Dark of the Force. Power. That’s what the tree had called it. Ficcabin reflected a moment. A fountain of power. The Dark was a fountain of power. What a frightening concept.

 

Still at the corners of his vision he felt like he saw something. But when he turned to look, nothing was there. The feeling of being watched didn't describe what he felt well enough. It was more like something was standing next to him. And the pull wasn't it. Ficcabin nervously tapped the back of his neck, running some simple calculations to calm down. He needed to get out of here soon. But how?

 

The sound of the seed bursting from the fountain made Ficcabin jump and yelp slightly, not expecting the noise. He laughed nervously as Frond gave a smile that Ficcabin was not truly accustomed to.

 

Well I'm glad I'm not the only one learning.

 

Still, the feeling did not go away. The pull made Ficcabin nervous. The presence made him scared. Ficcabin only eyed briefly the seed that Frond retrieved while the scientist grabbed his own crystal for comfort. He could feel something. If earlier when he first entered this world was an opening of a new sense, this was its way of danger. Of pain. Of sheer power and strength.

 

Of panic.

 

Ficcabin franticly glanced side to side, his hands into fists around his crystal. There was definitely something there. Beyond the mists, past the Font of Power, something approached. It was a cold presence of something old. Ficcabin felt his heart race. The reason why he had ran from this place in the first place. The Font was a pulling sensation. This sensation was slightly different, but the difference large enough to cover the planet. This was much too cold. Colder then the vacuum of space. Before him, his awakened sense, drunk on all the peace it had felt, was much too sensitive to this power.

 

Um, Frond, I, uh, think that... Ficcabin didn't finish. The air around him was too thick for sound and too heavy for movement. Ficcabin remembered all the warnings Frond had given about touching the water. While he had never done so, what if something else had before? What if there were residents of this world, and Ficcabin had offended them?

 

A scream barely broke out from the Givin. Then he vanished from sight, a dreamer waking to reality.

 

(Posts continued in Felucia)

MX8p3j4.png
Link to comment
Share on other sites

Staring at the seed, marveling at the power that radiated from it with a smile twisted across his lipless mouth, Frond barely heard Ficcabin’s words. As the words registered, Frond’s eyes snapped from the warped seed in his hand to his fellow Jedi learner; only to watch him vaporize into the swirling mists of Beyond Shadows. That was when he felt it, a cold fearful all-powerful presence approached and with it Ficcabin’s fearful presence vanished entirely.

 

”to fear is nothing The Lady of the Mists.

 

He spoke to no one in particular as his gaze shifted from where Ficcabin had stood only moments before back to the small glassy-like red-hued morphed seed in his hand.

 

”given she has me a gift. The will I shall with it out carry of The Force. M’lady you thank. You thank Brother Ficcabin. Guides in us all The Force things.

 

Gingerly Frond rolled the seed towards the edge of his woody palm as he drew it towards his chest, a small knothole opening just long enough for the seed to topple through before closing. Instantly, he could feel the power mingle with the desires of the crystal. This will suffice. Now, instead of a simple cool radiating desire, the crystal and seed combined to shine forth invisible rays of powerful passion and desire to right the wrongs wrought on the galaxy by the stampeding dark siders.

 

”Time it to return is.”

 

He whispered as he shuffled away from the Font of Power and encompassing presence of the invisible mist-veiled Lady of the Mists. Carefully, Frond picked his way back to the clearing that he had used for eons when he had come and gone from Beyond Shadows.

 

Gently, folding his hands at his waist and bowing his head, Frond closed his eyes and began to count backwards,

 

”Seven, Six, Five, Four, Three, Two, One . . . “

 

And in that moment, with his eyes closed, the world that was made up of The Force swirled and morphed around him into an unseen gray smoky mist. In an instant, Frond would return to his temporary quarters aboard Tobias Vos’ ship.

XQ19Jfm.png
Link to comment
Share on other sites

In his dreams, he found himself once again on the great dejarik board of the Force. There was no voice this time, but the pieces were the same. As he watched, a game was played, fast and furious. The Jedi fell, and the Sith rose. Darkness spread across the galaxy. But then, just in the final moments, when all hope was gone, there was a masterstroke by the forces of light, in the form of a person he did not know. Perhaps it didn't matter. It was hope. A Jedi who would rise to lead the galaxy back into balance.

 

An echo whispered across the chamber. "Life AND death, Darex Trevelian."

 

The board reset, and the game played out again. But this time, he saw a piece bearing his own likeness. There was a momentous event on the board and everything froze. Then the lights in the chamber dimmed until only his piece was illuminated. In slow motion, it fell, moving off to the side of the board and fading into the darkness. The game resumed, and the result was the same as the first time.

 

And then everything dispersed into silver mist.

 

And Darex understood.

 

And then he woke.

FDY9u6P.png

Grand Master of the Jedi Order

Link to comment
Share on other sites

  • 1 year later...

GENOCIDE AND GENESIS


 

In pure darkness laid a man. Alone on a stone floor, he sat in silence.
 

Could it truly be this black, or did I go blind? Is it really this quiet, or am I deaf? Am I truly so alone, or have I am I just no longer able to reach anyone else? It feels like I have been here forever...


He focused on the cold stone floor beneath him. Though all his other senses were blank, he could feel the cold, and cling to the hope that at least it was real.


"Perhaps I am already dead, and this is purgatory."


The man ruminated on the sound of his own words. It too seemed real, though it offered him little comfort to consider that it might be. He could remember nothing of who he was or what existed outside of the suffocating darkness. He wasn't even certain that there ever was a world beyond the blackness that enveloped him.


"You are not dead yet." Echoed a metallic voice.


The voice sounded very close. He groped blindly for its source, but found nothing but cold stone.


"Is someone there?" He pleaded.


With a flash, a white light pierced through the oppressive darkness, radiating from the blade of a silver lightsaber. It was held by a tall, imposing figure, clad head to toe in bone white armor, with dark metal hand. A mask covered his face, its empty dark eyes giving the impression of a skull. The strange voice hissed from the masked man,


"You ARE alone, Ka-ku-to Ryuuuuu."
 

The man looked down to see his own hands, pale gray skin in the white light of the ghastly figure's blade. Hearing the name aloud, he felt a certain that it was his own, yet could remember nothing more about himself. Ryu picked himself up off the ground to face the armored man.


"How did I get here?"


Dimly, he saw the outline or a transparent cylindrical tank. Ryu approached, a dull blue light illuminating a body inside from below. Though the frame was smaller, childlike, he recognized it as his own. Ryu put his hands on the glass tank as he studied the figure. In the reflection on the glass he noticed two men standing behind him. They were tall with tan skin and silver hair much like his own. One held a datapad while the other scanned the floating body with a handheld device.
 

"You really screwed up this one. You said you'd run the simulations before you tried anything novel. The Boss is going to be mad." Remarked the man with the scanner.


"I did run the simulations. They came out exceptional! This one will be strong and durable, an excellent laborer. Look at how this muscle tissue is forming, it's nearly twice as dense as predicted. Sensory and motor neurons are hyper responsive. Its skin is remarkably tough. It's even growing faster than the other samples." Said the other man with the datapad.


"But it's not taking the cognitive entrainment. It might not even be able to understand basic at this rate. The point of this project was to create workers who would require a minimum of training, so we could put it to work on complex tasks. We weren't paid 250,000 credits a head to make mining drones!" Replied the first man, visibly annoyed.


"Okay, fine, maybe integrating the massassi DNA sequences didn't work out as well as I expected, but It's not a big deal. These things happen in experimental eugenics. It's not as if there aren't plenty of asteroids to mine. The boss will still get his money's worth, I'm sure."


The two figures turned and walked away, fading into the blackness. When Ryu turned to try to see where they were going, he was met instead with the man in the skull mask. Before could react the masked man grabbed him by the top of his head. Ryu's hands gripped tightly around the the cold metal wrist of the Masked man, powerless to break free.


"You hear that? You were a mistake. If only they had any idea how massive of a mistake it was, they would have put you down when they had the chance."


The Masked Man repositioned his thumb on Ryu's left eye, pressing in. Ryu screamed in agony and horror as his eye made a grisly pop and blood sprayed out onto the armor of his tormentor.


----------


Ryu was awakened by a bare light fixture activating on the roof of a cave. He squinted and opened his eyes, finding himself laying on a roughly hewn rock floor. Packed tightly in the unfurnished room were dozens of others who looked like him. Men and women with ashen gray skin and silver hair, dull silver eyes. They wore ragged, dirty jumpsuits, with metal rings around their neck, wrists, and ankles. Each began to rise to their feet, their bodies stiff from the rocks they had rested on.
 

"Rest interval has ended. Line up to receive your nutritional supplements and work directives." Crowed a black overseer droid, standing just inside a doorway. Four identical droids flanked him, wardens subservient to the overseer. One was holding a tray of doughy grey bricks and the rest loaded with an assortment of mining equipment. The others in the room did as they were told, leaning over to receive one of the small bricks of synthesized protein before being sent away with a droid.


Still on the floor, Ryu noticed that a woman in the line was staring at him, her eyes revealing an unspoken concern. Before he could wonder why Ryu was hit with sudden wave of pain. The cuffs on his limbs and neck began to emit electricity with an loud crackle, sending him into convulsions for several seconds. In that moment Ryu felt his consciousness pull out into a place that felt distant, until he was high above, watching himself be dragged away by the warden droids as they scolded him for delaying the work schedule.


I had forgotten this place. This was my first day at the mining camp. The first of too many days to count. This was a hopeless, joyless place. Except...
 

The view of that room faded to blackness, and in the next instant Ryu found himself in his body again, face to face with the woman who had been staring at him before. He had become aware he was trapped in a memory, and could only watch as the events unfolded as they had in the past.
 

"Take this." Ryu said aloud, extending his hand to the woman. "The overseer did not want it. He said it was a different from what we usually dig up."


Ryu dropped a transparent silvery crystal into the hand of the woman, who brought it close to her eyes to inspect it. He saw her smile as she turned it around between her fingers, seeing how the light danced across its surface, reflecting colors they had never seen before in their monochrome existence.


To her, it seemed like the most beautiful thing she'd ever seen. But for me, it was her smile that was captivating. Like the shimmering colors in the crystal, it was something I'd never seen before, and it became the only thing I valued.


After that day, she would spend every moment she could at my side. We could only be together between labor shifts, when we were told to sleep and the few minutes before and after. She would lay next to me in the dark, and I would feel the warmth of her body, the softness of her skin. In that rocky prison, she was the only thing that had ever been warm or soft. We rarely spoke, and now I can't even remember what her voice sounded like. But even so, I think that I loved her...


Ryu heard the metallic voice of the masked man, laughing derisively.
 

"You think you loved her?! Ahahahaha-"


Ryu found himself in the mine, a sonic hammer clutched in his hands.


"You don't even remember her name, or a single word she said!"


Ryu Raised the tool up over his head, and then slammed against the wall of the cave. Crumbled rocks fell to the ground as he raised it again.


"A monster like you never loved anything, it's not a feeling you're capable of!"


Ryu brought down the hammer again and again, bits of rock flying through the air as he tore through the wall.


"If you ever felt love, it was for violence. You only know how to hurt people."
 

Ryu continued flurry of strikes, a large fissure spreading vertically as he pounded.


"You deserve to suffer."
 

Ryu stopped hammering, but the fissure continued to grow, splintering more and more. He took a step back, but it was too late. A roar of wind accompanied the collapse of the wall, sucking him out into open space. He tried to scream, but his lungs were emptied of air. He could see the tears in his eyes turning to steam as he felt his body decompress, his flesh expanding like a balloon the the vacuum. The pain was unfathomable, simultaneously freezing cold in the shadow and boiling hot in the sunlight. It was less than a minute before he passed out, but it felt like an eternity.


Ryu reawakened in the black room, laying face down the floor. With his one good eye, he could see blood pouring from his hollowed out socket. He felt a heavy boot on his shoulder, and the cold metal hand of the masked man gripping his left wrist. His arm was bent backward, already dislocated from its socket.


"This is your punishment."


The masked man began to pull, Ryu howled in agony as his flesh started ripping. There was a nauseating shredding sound as his muscles and sinew were torn apart, until finally his arm completely detached, only to be discarded on the ground in front of him. His body grew cold from the loss of blood, and quickly he fell unconscious.


-----------
 

"Amazing... He's waking up."
 

Ryu's eyes opened to the sight a bright examination lamp. Every inch of his body ached. One of the Arkanian scientists was taking readings off him with a medical scanner


"I've never heard of anyone surviving 10 minutes in a vacuum before. You've gotta be the luckiest slave alive. If we weren't afraid that a cargo ship might pick you up and start asking questions, we wouldn't have even bothered to retrieve your body."


The Arkanian set down the scanner and began making notes on a datapad.


"Needless to say, nobody expected your heart to still be beating when we got you back inside."


The scientist left the room, pausing just outside the door to inform the warden that he would be ready to resume work on the next shift. When the morning came, a droid led him to the main barracks where the slaves slept at night. He entered the room as the lights kicked on, and the overseer began the day as he had every other.


"Rest interval has ended. Line up to receive your nutritional supplements and work directives."


Ryu didn't expect much reaction from  his fellow slaves, but he had anticipated at least one person would smile when they saw that he was still alive.


"Where is -̴̢̢̝̤̰͚̄̈́↑̸̨̨̡̝͚̯̟̬̂͝☺̷͓͓͉͠♠̵̯̻̹̼̥̔̉̋̈́ ?"


Amid the solemn faces, he did not find the woman who he cared for. Though they all looked much alike, to him she was unmistakable. The way she carried herself, her expressions, the way she walked--in the time he'd spent there, these were the only things he'd thought were worth learning. He began to pace around the room, double checking everyone's faces as they were lining up for food and being sorted into groups.


"Why isn't she here? Where is  -̴̢̢̝̤̰͚̄̈́↑̸̨̨̡̝͚̯̟̬̂͝☺̷͓͓͉͠♠̵̯̻̹̼̥̔̉̋̈́ ?!"


The familiar buzz of the stun cuffs rang in his ears as waves of electricity ran through his body. He fell to his knees, but recovered as soon as his punishment ceased.


"Terminate all communications, report for work directives immediately." the Overseer insisted.


Ryu begrudgingly approached the overseer and snatched up his brick of synthesized protein. None of the others were going to speak for fear of being shocked, and the droids weren't going to start being helpful now.


"Follow Warden Delta to Sector 6." Crowed the droid.


Ryu gnawed on the tough flavorless lump as he walked toward his assigned area. Upon arrival at the mining site, he picked up his mining hammer from the warden and began to strike the wall.


"Alright, I'm smashing rocks, looking for gems. Now, will you tell me where  -̴̢̢̝̤̰͚̄̈́↑̸̨̨̡̝͚̯̟̬̂͝☺̷͓͓͉͠♠̵̯̻̹̼̥̔̉̋̈́  is?" Ryu shouted back at the droid as it watched to make sure he didn't stop working.


"You are not authorized for requested information, and slaves are not authorized to speak during labor interval. Terminate all communications."


Ryu seethed at the response. There had been other laborers who had disappeared like this in the past. If they were injured while mining, they usually returned once their wounds were treated. But others had disappeared without warning, and they never returned. For Ryu, neither possibility would be acceptable. He lowered his hammer and turned to face the warden droid.


"And what if I refuse to work until you tell me?" Ryu demanded.


The warden's response was predictable. The stun cuffs and collar began to pump electricity throughout his body, bringing him to his knees. Ryu's jaw clenched, the pain only serving to anger him more. Ten seconds later the voltage halted, and the warden repeated his orders.


"Terminate all communications and resume labor immediately."


"No." Ryu spat back defiantly.
 

Again electricity surged through his limbs and neck. His flesh started to bubble up, lines of burns in the shapes of the electricity scorching into his flesh. His arms and neck tensed, but this time, he stood firm. Ryu grit his teeth and began to scream, both for pain and for rage. He raised up the hammer he used to break the rock walls and began to march toward the warden droid. The Droid looked around as if in confusion. The nearest containment door began to close, and an alert siren sounded.


The hammer smashed into droid's chest with a satisfying crunch, crumpling its torso and sending its pieces flying in 5 different directions. The stun cuffs deactivated with the droid, allowing Ryu to breath a sigh of relief. By luck the droid's torso slid into the door frame, blocking the door from sealing fully. Ryu sneered the droid's severed head then gave it a kick across room. He didn't really know what he would do next, but the path forward was clear. He slid his hammer under the door then, feet first, followed behind it.


Ryu made his way to the part of the facility that was ordinarily restricted to slaves. He had only ever been to the medical bay, and so that seemed like a good place to start looking. He arrived to find it empty, the lights off, the exam tables and bacta tanks inactive. His jaw clenched in frustration. Undeterred, he checked the other rooms nearby. Across the hall was the cloning lab, unmanned and filled with empty maturation tanks. The next door down seemed like a sort of storage facility, filled with chemicals, equipment, and unused droid parts. It wasn't until the fourth room that he ran into one of the Arkanian scientists.


The scientist gawked in disbelief for a few seconds before frantically digging in his pocket and withdrawing a control device for the stun cuffs. Disbelief gave weigh to panic when the stun cuffs activated but failed prevent Ryu's advance.


"Oh c'mon these are supposed to subdue a wookiee!" the Arkanian shouted, smashing the button repeatedly.


Ryu smacked the stun cuff remote out of the scientist's hand with his hammer. The remote  clacked against the floor, then crunched beneath Ryu's foot. The scientist, meanwhile, recoiled in horror at the sight of his hand, which had snapped at the wrist and was dangling straight down. Ryu disregarded his cries of pain to scan the room. His gaze fixed immediately on a set of transparent capsules lined up along the walls, one of which contained a female body. Its surface covered in frost, Ryu approached it with purpose and began to scrape away to get a better look at the face of the woman inside. There was no mistake. It was definitely her, her eyes closed, a peaceful expression on her face.

She seemed serene, as though sleeping, and so he started to knock excitedly on the glass.

"Hey, wake up, we're getting out of here!"
 

The woman remained motionless, unresponsive, even as he began to pound his fist into the glass. Ryu sensed that something was wrong and he began to grow frantic. He turned to the scientist, now quivering in the corner and clutching his wrist.


"Why isn't she waking up? What did you do to her?!" Ryu shouted.


"Shes... She's in Cryogenic suspension. She's being shipped off colony tomorrow. You can't wake her." Answered the Arkanian, increasingly fearful of what the slave might do.

 

Having never heard of Cryogenics before, Ryu had no idea what this meant, but was rapidly growing impatient.


"Fix it. Get her out of there, now." Ryu Growled.


"I can't, we-we-we don't have the facilities to revive her on the station--" The Arkanian Quivered. Ryu grabbed him by his broken wrist and threw him into the wall.


"GET HER OUT NOW!!" Ryu insisted, his demands echoing throughout the whole facility.


"It-it- can't be done, I'm sorry-" The Arkanian admitted, grudgingly, between wails of pain.
 

Ryu howled in anger. He looked back at the capsule, then raised up his hammer--intent on opening it himself.


"NO, YOU FOOL!" The Arkanian cried out impotently. But it was too late. Ryu shattered the tank with a single swing of his hammer, a radial web of fractures spreading across it's surface. He jammed the handle through the glass, careful not to hit her. Gripping the hammer near its head, he pried the glass away, then tore away the broken pieces with his hands. His palms lacerated and bleeding, he reached into the tank and touched her face.


"Wake up -̴̢̢̝̤̰͚̄̈́↑̸̨̨̡̝͚̯̟̬̂͝☺̷͓͓͉͠♠̵̯̻̹̼̥̔̉̋̈́ ! We're going to be free. -̴̢̢̝̤̰͚̄̈́↑̸̨̨̡̝͚̯̟̬̂͝☺̷͓͓͉͠♠̵̯̻̹̼̥̔̉̋̈́ ...."


Her skin was cold and hard. She was motionless, not even breathing. He slid one hand to the side of her neck, taking her hand with the other. His bloody palm print stained her cheek.


"Please... -̴̢̢̝̤̰͚̄̈́↑̸̨̨̡̝͚̯̟̬̂͝☺̷͓͓͉͠♠̵̯̻̹̼̥̔̉̋̈́ ...."


A hairline fracture formed across her face. Ryu gasped in terror, and then more fractures radiated from the first, until she was covered in a web of cracks that enveloped her whole body. Ryu held his breath, his heart sinking, and a moment later she shattered into thousands of pieces. Ryu stood stunned, trying to process what was happening as shards of her hand slipped between his fingers. The silver crystal he had given her fell into his palm, having evidently been in her hand when she was frozen. Ryu clenched his hand into a fist, lowering his head to see the grisly mess of her remains. Shaking now, he closed his eyes and screamed again.


"NNNOOOOOOOOOOO!"
 

The Arkanian scientist stood in stunned horror. Ryu turned toward him slowly, tears streaming down his face.


"What have you done-" Before the Scientist could complete his sentence the mining hammer struck the top of his head, fragmenting his skull and shooting bits of blood, bone and brain matter in every direction. Ryu watched as the lifeless torso slid onto the floor, blood pooling from where its head used to be. He stood there, unblinking, blind with rage. The anger that had been building since he was born had boiled over, and in this moment it became an overwhelming madness.


Ryu walked into the hallway outside the cryogenics lab, where he met with another Arkanian scientist and the remaining four droids.  They had come to find the source of the commotion, only to find Ryu splattered with the remains of the first Arkanian.


"Subdue him." ordered the second Arkanian scientist. The droids activated the stun cuffs on Ryu, but this time they had no effect. The electricity flowing through him strobed, lighting up the hallway as it danced along the surface of his neck and limbs. The droids drew stun batons as Ryu turned and raised his hammer. The scientist began to panic when he saw Ryu's furious gaze, a feeling which increased ten fold as the droids were smashed to bits by four swings of the blood soaked mining hammer. Before he could bring himself to run away, Ryu's hand was around his throat, the electricity of the stun cuff passing into him and making him convulse as Ryu strangled the life from his body. There was a awful crunch, and the scientist fell limp, his tongue hanging from his mouth and his eyes growing empty.
 

Ryu dropped him to the ground with a sneer then proceeded to smash the remains of the droids into smaller pieces until the stun cuffs stopped firing, and then a little more after. When the droids were barely recognizable hunks of metal, Ryu did the same to the body of the second Arkanian. He began to howl like a wild animal as he crushed the body into bone fragments and bloody paste.


A terrified whimper came from the other end of the hall, and Ryu turned to identify it's source. A third Arkanian screeched in terror at the grotesque scene. Seeing Ryu's white skin painted head to toe in blood was enough to make him turn his back and run as fast as he could. Ryu's bloodlust still unsated, he took up the chase, letting out a bestial growl as he began his pursuit, bloody footprints trailing in his wake.
 

Having seen his colleague mutilated, The last Arkanian was prepared to abandon the station entirely. He sprinted to the hangar and ran up a ramp to a cargo shuttle. Barely in the door he shouted for the automated droid pilot to take off immediately. Before he could even reach the pilot seat the gore bathed hammer shattered his spine. He doubled over, his stomach touching the floor but his head his chest facing the ceiling. Blood pouring from his lips, he gurgled and sputtered. The last thing he saw was the blood cloaked nightmare looming over him, raising the hammer into the air and bringing it down on his face.
 

-----------


A couple hours later the cargo shuttle touched down on a landing pad in the snowy wastes of Arkania. A dozen of its inhabitants rushed out of a nearby facility to meet the shuttle. As the landing ramp opened a particularly well dressed Arkanian began to voice his confusion.
 

"Hey, what's going on here, this shipment isn't scheduled for another..."


The Arkanian trailed off when he saw a blood soaked man with a hammer run down the ramp. Ryu charged headlong into them, taking each man out with a bone shattering swing of his hammer, one after another until only broken bodies remained. He continued in through the door they had emerged from to continue the slaughter.


The massacre would end some hours later, the base still and silent, purged of all life save Ryu's. Fresh blaster burns and vibroblade wounds marred his flesh, but were ultimately insufficient to stop the rampage. The other slaves who Ryu had left behind ultimately starved in captivity, no one left to free them or bring them supplies. In effect, it was a sort of suicide, as he had erased every trace of his existence by eliminating every person who knew of it. At dawn he sat outside on the landing pad, a plume of flame billowing out of the door of the secret facility, blood and bodies around him freezing in the bitter harsh wasteland.


Ryu turned the crystal over in his fingers, watching the light of flames and the rising sun flicker across its surface. He hardly noticed when a massive flying reptile arrived at the scene, attracted by the stench of blood, and began feasting on the corpses. It was nearly as big as the ship he had rode in on, black with two massive wings and a mouth big enough to consume a man whole. He looked up at it, and it stared back at him for a moment, but gorged on the dead, it did not seem interested in Ryu, and flew off without bothering him.


Some time later I would learn the beast was a rare arkanian dragon. At the time, I remember thinking that it could have killed me but chose not to out of some form of kinship. It and I were just beasts that existed to terrorize weaker forms of life.
 

Now I look back on that day and think that it spared me because it believed that by doing so, I would make more corpses for it to devour.


"It was right."


Ryu was back in the dark room, atop masked man, pinning his arms down with his knees. His left arm and eye gone, he repeatedly bashed the skull mask with his remaining fist. His knuckles grew bloodied and bruised, staining the white mask as he relentlessly pummeled it. Finally the mask began to crack, then fell apart to reveal his face. Beneath the mask Ryu found his own face, and in it he saw flashes of a lifetime of murder, a trail of flame and mangled corpses that had led him to this point. Unphased by the horrific memories, he did not relent in pummeling his doppelganger, instead smashing his head against the ground over and over until the face was no longer recognizable.

-----------
 

Ryu found himself in the center of a large windowless  room with a single light overhead. He was trapped in a small round forcefield, unable to move. His left shoulder was just a socket where a mechanical arm was mean to attach and his left eye merely a hollow socket. His body was covered in fresh wounds from what seemed to be a recent battle, one that he had evidently lost.  In front of him was a massive stone door, nearly a meter thick, in through which filed a procession of cloaked Jedi. They took positions surrounding him, their hoods up and their faces obscured by shadow.


"We are gathered here to pronounce sentence on the Sith Lord Kakuto Ryu. For your crimes against society, for the innumerable lives you've ended, and for the instability and chaos you've sewn across the galaxy, we believe that are too dangerous to be allowed to exist. Yet, it would be against your principles to simply execute a defenseless man. Thus we have decided that you will stripped of the Force, you will be stripped of your memories, and you will be stripped of your freedom. You will be confined to this cell, deep underneath the temple, where you can never harm another again."


The council reached out their hands in unison, calling on the force to invade his mind. He could feel them prying open the gates around his thoughts, unlocking his memories and then obliterating them. He tried desperately to fight back, to lock his memories away, but before long there was nothing left. He felt the force being cut off from him, his sense of the universe that surrounded him growing silent. In the end he was an empty shell, isolated within himself, and purged of all sense of identity.  He fell to the ground, alive but catatonic.


The Jedi filed out of the room, and sealed the door behind them. The force field deactivated, leaving him all alone in an empty cell with just a wall mounted food synthesizer and a hole in the corner of the floor.  The single light deactivated itself moments later, leaving him in complete darkness. There he would remain for nearly a decade, his mind struggling to repair the damage that was done to it in this place of quiet and shadow.
 

Ryu finally understood that this was the place he found himself at in the present, and that all the hallucinations he had experienced were his mind trying desperately to piece his memories back together. Where he had once felt the force, he now experienced a scar on his soul, a great emptiness that was even worse than the darkness and the silence that had filled his days. His newly found sense of self only served to magnify his suffering, and he contemplated smashing his head into the wall until he could end it for good.


Unexpectedly, in his darkest hour he saw a thin strip of light leak in from the door frame, growing to a blinding glare as his cell opened to the outside world again. Unsure whether it was real or another hallucination, he got up from his spot in the floor and approached the doorway. Struggling against his own disbelief, he exited the cell.
 

The moment of his rebirth was at hand.

krstorm.gif.a46e550419daa19d41d206a1706d1044.gif

Link to comment
Share on other sites

  • 1 month later...

 

It felt like treading water, like reaching for a surface that would never come, the last breath burning in her lungs. But she could feel him there. Aidan. He was distant but there. 

 

Wisdom

 

Sandy let herself be brought closer to him in the force until she could visualize him. It was like looking through a darkened screen, or a tarnished mirror but he was there. Meditating just as she was. Though likely lightyears away. She touched his mind as he touched hers. She was tempted to say something frivolous, or to flirt, but this was not the place for such a thing. This was an honour, and was one of many steps she would take along her path to wisdom. Aidan needed the help and so she would guide him the best she knew how. She sought back to her time as a knight, her confrontations withe the Sith Lords. 

 

Fear 

 

Fear locks us from our path and keeps us separate from our destiny.

 

Find your fear Aidan and I will show you mine

 

She found her own fear and brought it to its root. With a breath that felt like a scream of pain, she let the fear bubble forth from where it usually crept in the back of her mind. She sought it from where it lay, bound to the back of her spine, where it haunted every step.

 

The dark

The knives

The pain of violation

The gnashing of a togorians laughter

The fear of loosing everyone she loved

The fear of rejection

Even the fear of showing the fears she had to Aidan

 

She let them pulse between them, showing Aidan each and every one. Laid out like panels on a quilt. Even those that she had kept locked since her time in captivity on Thalassia. Even those that she kept locked in her heart. Nothing lay hidden. The pain of them rocked her, but she steadied herself leaning on the presence of her friend.

 

It is impossible to confront and overcome fears without exposing them

 

She breathed out, slowly, her breath falling like a mist over the arrayed fears, causing them to slowly burn away. 

 

Once they are before us, we can let them go

senay.png.2f049a5f093fee4ce31600cce37c9cbb.png

Calix Meus Inebrians

Link to comment
Share on other sites

A white void, perfectly lit. 

 

It was reminiscent of where Aidan used to go in his mind’s eye when he meditated, clearing his thoughts and emotions. Normally he would focus on something in particular, like a tree or a small brook, but this time it was...different. More real. This wasn’t his mind’s eye, it was a location, concrete and finite, and at the same time...not.

After a while, he felt Sandy’s soft presence in the Force, far away yet still seemingly next to him. A slight surge of emotion rushed through him, but he managed to quell it before it disrupted his focus. He was here for a purpose, a reason. She had the tools, would be his guide, he simply needed to be there. For her, for himself, for everyone he cared about. The only option he had was to continue on the path he’d set himself on, to further his training. The answers lay somewhere in the Force, he just had to find them.

What flashed before him next was difficult to witness, but the scenes all shared the same theme, which was confirmed when she finally reached out a little further, breaking the veil just enough to implant a clear thought in his head: find your fear, Aidan, and I will show you mine.

What did he fear? Plenty. The Sith, the dark side, failure...but at the center of it all was the young Imperial Knight himself. He couldn’t forgive himself if his actions hurt the ones he cared for. Briefly a vision flashed before him, vivid as a lucid dream: standing over Sandy as she clutched her wounds, a red saber in his hands. He violently jerked back from the vision, but like a strong wave, the Force swelled, keeping him where he was.

It is impossible to confront and overcome fears without exposing them. Once they are before us, we can let them go.

It wasn’t the Force, it was her. She was here, reinforcing him, steadying him. He could do this, he just needed to push through. It was a pain that struck hardest in his heart, his emotions rebelling against his control, but he held fast.

He feared most what he could become. Despite all the training the Jedi could offer, all the discipline of the most pious of Imperial Knights, he still feared himself. He knew that he would do his best to prevent that from ever happening, but fate was a fickle mistress. After a long moment of staring his fear in the face, he allowed it to fade. He needed to trust in the Force, trust in those he cared about. He was not an island, and many cared about him like he cared for them.

He trusted Sandy. 

 

Like a soft ocean breeze, the scene slowly dissolved into mist, and then nothingness. It was not the end, but he knew now that worrying about it only hurt himself. What would be, would be. Moving forward was the only answer. Softly he reached back, signalling he was ready to move on.

Edited by Ary the Grey

fuckmeIwannastop.png.f6b3c407fbf3e64619d8058b21303934.png

Link to comment
Share on other sites

A smile whispered on her lips for a moment as she watched Aidan confront his fear. It was a lifelong process she knew, but now that the door was open, it would be easier to keep confronting them. He had overcome so many in the Maw, and now his strength could not be denied. He would survive. 

 

She could feel his trust and returned it. 

 

Her mind touched his as the fear dissipated, leaving them both blissfully at peace for a brief moment. But there was so much more to do. And she let the peace pass away as well, forcing herself from the comfort and into the cold of her mind. She heard the words come from the holocron and she echoed them.

 

Guilt, however righteous, is death to joy

 

What were her guilts? Were they the embarrassing moments that kept her awake on the verge of sleep? No, she needed to show the root. Like most traumas, there was a seed of truth in every foundation. It was healthy to regret an ill desire, or an evil action, but that regret, when left unchecked spread like a poison through every word and every joy. Poisoning each lovely thought, bringing the mind from its true purpose to focus on darkness. 

 

Even the simple guilt of dipping her lightsabre blade into the gut of Fynn Relmis, however justified, could poison her every thought. She let the guilt tumble out of her, falling like an acid rain on the plain of their minds. Death, loss, every guilt she had felt since she was a little girl came out, but there was a central guilt, a poison that corrupted everything she touched. She would have hung her head in shame had she been near him but she kept her neck unbent.

 

I killed my mother

 

She could have justified it, talked about the beatings, the screaming. But the fact was there despite it all. She had reached out a hand in the force and struck out. It had been so easy and with a flicker in the force, a sad, depressed, angry woman had died the brutal death of a brain aneurysm. The scene in all its brutalism lay before them spread out in the thick storm. 

 

Deal with the guilt first. Shame is next. 

 

The soft voice carried a kindness she had never felt as a child. And with it came a peace. 

 

I’m sorry. I am so sorry

 

She whispered to no one but the ghost of her mother. She took a deep breath, letting the warmth of the tears trickle down her face. 

 

Time will not change the actions that harmed an innocent. You must confront that action, reveal it, and it will hold no power to poison your joy.

senay.png.2f049a5f093fee4ce31600cce37c9cbb.png

Calix Meus Inebrians

Link to comment
Share on other sites

Guilt, however righteous, is death to joy

 

Aidan watched as Sandy confronted her own past, acknowledged it, accepted it, and finally released it. He could tell this one was especially hard for her, something that had worn on her a long time.

 

You must confront that action, reveal it, and it will hold no power to poison your joy.

What did he have to feel guilty for? Plenty. He was weaponized by the Imperial Knights, turned into an instrument of war out of necessity, unleashed on those far less capable than he. On Kashyyyk he had fallen to his dark impulses against his will, going on a berserker rampage that ended so many lives it made his head swim as he relived the moment. It wasn’t the first time. He’d slain many Trandoshan where they stood, simply because he disagreed with what they were doing, their culture. They had inflicted pain on others, but nobody was above redemption. He gave no choice, no quarter.

 

He was an instrument of death.

No...that was a choice. His choice to make. A choice he would choose in the future, regardless of his orders. Much of the peace in the galaxy came from what people made for themselves, and the Jedi had a unique opportunity to spread it to many more people other than themselves, to share the gift of tranquility. Others could still choose violence, but it was a tool of last resort, not a priority at the first sign of trouble.

Aidan released these burdens, letting them sink into the swells of the Force, and he felt the calming waves wash over him, refreshing and reinforcing him. 

 

He was ready to move on.

Edited by Ary the Grey

fuckmeIwannastop.png.f6b3c407fbf3e64619d8058b21303934.png

Link to comment
Share on other sites

Sandy took another breath, inhaling a lungful of air that was heavy with the calming incense of meditation. It was time to look upon the culmination of guilt, the shame that breaks the root of growth. She breathed out and her words whispered to her friend as the feeling of shame passed between them. 

 

Shame destroys the will and keeps us from our growth. 

 

What was her shame? Every little thing that had brought a flush to her face could have spilled out of her like a fountain. But those little shames were of no consequence, they were things easily moved on from. It was the great shames that mixed with the guilt to poison a man. To turn all he did to bitterness. 

 

She let the shame of Thalassia spill out, those things that haunted her every step, those acts that had brought her to the brink of suicide not five years before. She did not visualize them, but let the truth of them exhale with her breath. 

 

The shame that haunted her dissipated as she watched Aidan work his own meditation. There was room, space to grow. Though she had moved beyond that shame years before, it was good to confront it in everything that she did. She could never truly be whole and new, but now there was a space to grow. She was valuable despite what had happened. And a smile secretly tugged at the edges of her mouth.

senay.png.2f049a5f093fee4ce31600cce37c9cbb.png

Calix Meus Inebrians

Link to comment
Share on other sites

Shame destroys the will and keeps us from our growth.

He didn’t relish the thought of confronting his shame. He’d had a bit of a troubled childhood, having resented his parents, especially his father, and subsequently running away from home as soon as he was old enough to stow away and work the space lanes. That life had been no easier for him, often having to scrounge and steal food. It wasn’t the best choice he’d made in his life, but the biggest regret was not forgiving his father until it was too late.

It was easier to forgive his mother and even his grandmother who had watched him from afar, they still drew breath. And he had forgiven his father, but was ashamed that he’d not done so while Aryian was alive.

For a brief moment, he thought he felt...something...another presence near him other than Sandy. It softly touched his hand, helping him do what he needed to. The past was immutable, forever gone, and he needed to forgive himself for this. The future was his chance to make things right, to put a net positive into the galaxy that had wronged him.

Like sea kelp untangling from his feet, his shame left him, and he felt more buoyant in the currents of the Force. For a moment, he let the tides carry him, relishing in simply existing. This was the purpose of existence, to observe, to live. There was no rhyme or reason, and there didn’t have to be. He was his own rock, his own foundation, his own captain at the helm of all his choices yet to come, and they would define him, not his past.

Sandy would feel his tranquility begin to blossom as the meditations allowed him to clear himself of years of emotional baggage. When she was ready to move on, he was too.

Edited by Ary the Grey

fuckmeIwannastop.png.f6b3c407fbf3e64619d8058b21303934.png

Link to comment
Share on other sites

Sandy could feel Aidan’s steadfastness, as he released yet another burden from his shoulders. When the calm returned, she spoke again.

 

Grief distracts us from the path of the light

 

The obsession of a loss, its haunting figure, could be felt like an echo through every action of a person consumed with grief. Another great poison, a great distraction from the force, grief turned so easily to self righteous anger. For what else could a person do but wallow in the few reliefs of grief? Sandy could feel its pull even in the calm of the meditation. That secret desire to curl herself in a ball and give into misery. 

 

So she rebuked it. Grief, while a useful tool, was all consuming, tears were meant to be dried, not stay there forever. 

 

Grief is something to be embraced as part of a transition away from trauma. They say time heals all wounds, and while there is truth there, I must always remind myself to move on from it. There is a small side of me that rejoices in my grief, using it as a shield from the pain of transition. It is there that grief must be discarded. 

 

She shook her head slowly. 

 

We don’t want to be feelingless monsters however, as the Sith often accuse us. We must accept the grief when it comes to us, to feel it, but not let it consume us. 

 

She breathed out, letting the grief go. 

 

senay.png.2f049a5f093fee4ce31600cce37c9cbb.png

Calix Meus Inebrians

Link to comment
Share on other sites

Grief distracts us from the path of the light.

 

Aidan had only experienced true grief only once, when he learned of Kirlocca's death. The old wookiee had been there like a father for him for much of his childhood, he and Holden were some of the only true family Aidan felt he had growing up. While his mother and father visited him between their jaunts across the stars, the latter far more sparingly, it was always Kirlocca who comforted him, answered his questions growing up, and provided him a home.

And now, that home was gone. Aidan never had a place he thought of as home, but being with the Wookiee always calmed him. In his meditation, he could feel the tears fall from his eyes, causing ripples in the vast ocean of the Force. But ripples built into typhoons, and could cause more damage to the self and others if left unchecked. He grieved, having finally confronted that grief, and let it pour from him like a small waterfall into its reflecting pool. But that waterfall would run dry, and the pool would once again become calm.

 

He had so much more to still look forward to, if he allowed grief to overwhelm him he would become trapped by it, and his future held much more in store than to be stopped by inevitable loss.

 

We must accept the grief when it comes to us, to feel it, but not let it consume us. 

 

Aidan slowly focused on his own breathing, allowing himself to regain his tranquility. It became easier with each step, like shedding worn chains that he had the keys to, but never the courage to use them. He was ready once more to move on, but could not have prepared himself for what awaited him in the final steps of the meditation.

fuckmeIwannastop.png.f6b3c407fbf3e64619d8058b21303934.png

Link to comment
Share on other sites

Lies and deception banish away the truth. 

 

Truth was an integral part of the jedi walk, and it shocked her how easily one could be driven off that walk without paying attention. Letting the little mistruths build until they became a wave that could wash her away. 

 

These tiny lies we tell ourselves slowly erode our truth. We must confront them in everything we do, lest they overcome us. You must embrace your own destiny, no matter how much you may wish to part from it. Embrace who you are and you will drive away the lies. 

 

That was the true journey here, to embrace who she was, no matter the baggage. She took another scented breath and let it out through her nose. She let her presence mix with Aidan’s, giving him a strength to rely on should he need it. She had confronted this part of herself years before with Adenna, but still opening these scars was tiring. She could only feel the turmoil in Aidan’s spirit and so she was there if he needed it.

senay.png.2f049a5f093fee4ce31600cce37c9cbb.png

Calix Meus Inebrians

Link to comment
Share on other sites

×
×
  • Create New...