They called her by her old name. Those she trusted, perhaps too easily, informed her that they could get her better under a special disclosed rehabilitation program. Since they had moved her from the custody of the NJO, in a place she had not yet discern where, she thought things were to be different. But this cell - a bunk - was no smaller than the one in the Azrael Asylum.
Freedom. There was part of her that sought for an opportunity to break out during the transfer, but with the tight security, anti-force administered and the chains on her, she found none.
Then she was told she was with the Lightsworn. Imagine her vexation knowing she was in the hold of the prejudice who had put her name and her bestfriend's on a hate list. There was a feeling of betrayal, but so had she betrayed the light itself. A sith lord she followed, she cared about, who cared about her. The kindness and patience of all things leading her away from the light and into the grasp of darkness. And where was he now? It was more than a month captive and hearing not a word of him.
Why hadn't she felt him on Jedha? Why hadn't he answered her desperate call for help then? There was part of her that worried and another part that was furious. They told her it was unlikely he was searching - she hated to believe it might be true. Afterall, she was only a few months into the apprenticeship... she had failed and disappointed, then she lost and fallen into a jedi's grasp. Her Master had 3 other apprentices, and a failed pet project was certainly of no more use to him.
Freedom. There was part of her that sought for an opportunity to break out during the transfer, but with the tight security, anti-force administered and the chains on her, she found none.
Then she was told she was with the Lightsworn. Imagine her vexation knowing she was in the hold of the prejudice who had put her name and her bestfriend's on a hate list. There was a feeling of betrayal, but so had she betrayed the light itself. A sith lord she followed, she cared about, who cared about her. The kindness and patience of all things leading her away from the light and into the grasp of darkness. And where was he now? It was more than a month captive and hearing not a word of him.
Why hadn't she felt him on Jedha? Why hadn't he answered her desperate call for help then? There was part of her that worried and another part that was furious. They told her it was unlikely he was searching - she hated to believe it might be true. Afterall, she was only a few months into the apprenticeship... she had failed and disappointed, then she lost and fallen into a jedi's grasp. Her Master had 3 other apprentices, and a failed pet project was certainly of no more use to him.
In this cell she waited. Time passed with an amulet around her neck. It was the first and crucial part of her therapy. To purge the dark within her. She felt her entire being, her soul fight against its effects, making her sick, weary and agitated. It was scrubbing away that part of her she was not yet ready to let go. Embraced, now fading away.
The mind struggled, the conflict was always present, one side prevailed no more then the other, but war waged as days past, the light consuming and devouring the shadows. What little the dark was becoming. Falentra had scrambled to preserve what she knew. On the walls around were scribbles in blue and black of her own blood and the ink from her mouth. There was a beauty to them, less of her delirium.
On the first day truth was on her, she could recite the code as a whole.
"Nwûl tash.
Dzwol shâsotkun.
Shâsotjontû châtsatul nu tyûk.
Tyûkjontû châtsatul nu midwan.
Midwanjontû châtsatul nu asha.
Ashajontû kotswinot itsu nuyak.
Wonoksh Qyâsik nun."
Again and again she repeated hours on end. But soon, the stutters to the words began and it was not before long the amnesia took hold, erasing what she learnt bit by bit till the hieroglyphs scattered on the wall became incomprehensible. The Code of the Sith diminished from her head by the light - all but one word that stuck.
"Nwûl," She whispered.
There was only peace. And that was the Truth.
The door creaked open to light. This would be the path to her freedom.
The mind struggled, the conflict was always present, one side prevailed no more then the other, but war waged as days past, the light consuming and devouring the shadows. What little the dark was becoming. Falentra had scrambled to preserve what she knew. On the walls around were scribbles in blue and black of her own blood and the ink from her mouth. There was a beauty to them, less of her delirium.
On the first day truth was on her, she could recite the code as a whole.
"Nwûl tash.
Dzwol shâsotkun.
Shâsotjontû châtsatul nu tyûk.
Tyûkjontû châtsatul nu midwan.
Midwanjontû châtsatul nu asha.
Ashajontû kotswinot itsu nuyak.
Wonoksh Qyâsik nun."
Again and again she repeated hours on end. But soon, the stutters to the words began and it was not before long the amnesia took hold, erasing what she learnt bit by bit till the hieroglyphs scattered on the wall became incomprehensible. The Code of the Sith diminished from her head by the light - all but one word that stuck.
"Nwûl," She whispered.
There was only peace. And that was the Truth.
The door creaked open to light. This would be the path to her freedom.
