Ara - "The Endless Waltz"

[Bryce Bantam]

If there are ways to speak better than words, people can all live on freely, not losing their way.​

Overcoming our faults, we realize what true power is, because you found a strength called love...​

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Two days after Hoth invasion, Skor II

He came back to the beginning, where they had first met. He knew she was loved, if Ara herself didn't. Bryce knew they would come for her. It is what those with strength did for those they cared for. Bryce also understood the anger they my have, the need for some misplaced vengeance. So he would help them understand his true intentions as he help Ara. So Bryce left the shuttle in a place that he knew they monitored, he came back to the beginning.

"Red Haired awesome fix-it guy offers us this ship for free?" The squib standing before Bryce asked.

"It is not mine to sell, but others with power in their eyes will come for it. When they do, you will give it to them freely along with this."

"What do you hand me?" The squib questioned.

"A crystal, they will know what to do with it, and 20,000 credits you will keep for your troubles."

Spoiler

OOC: (Ren Crew) This is the first bread crumb, left in a public area but you will need to be covert and respect the GA's fluff if you want to follow me down the rabbit hole and find Ara. Start a new thread and tag me in then you retrieve it, I'll post the next clue.

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https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=49tpIMDy9BE​

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Hyperspace Aboard "Zero"
Some time after Bespin encounter

Her arm lifted, palm and fingers splayed against the glass as she pounded against the tank, once, hard enough to alert the other occupants of the medical bay. Why had she come back?

Bryce was in the bay when Ara awoke, he had all this time attended to her. The wounds inflicted on Hoth had been removed. Organ, muscle, nerve, bone. All had been perfectly replicated, replaced and healed through the combination of bacta and force healing. Physically Ara was in near perfect health. Mentally...

All through the treatments Bryce had seen her slipping in and out of consciousness. Memory mixing with a soul torn as to wither life would be better than oblivion. Bryce understood this, but he unlike the Ara had one major difference. One he feared she still did not yet know of much less understand. It was here she would need to begin her journey of self discovery. Here he would show her things he hoped would lead her from this dark waltz, this lucid endless waltz.

To wake one from a dream, one would sometimes need to join the dreamer. As Ara open here eyes she would see a man with red hair, dressed in black. She would not see his face and he would place a helm upon his head before raising his hand to the sky. As he did the lights would go out. A second later a spot light would bath him an a white glow. From all around her the sound of a single music box would begin to play. Followed by the sounds of a string orchestra. As the music picked up flames would appear from his hands. To the music he would begin to move, his fists of fire drawing shapes in the light. The fire would grow brighter, more intense till he stopped his hand outstretched to her. She would almost be able to see him smiling under his helm as he offered her this invitation through telepathy.

:The sleeper must awaken, feel alive and join me...:

He would suddenly leap in the air. As he landed the mighty fire would engulf him before the room went back again. The lighting would return to normal a minute later. In the place of the dancer would be a three protocol droids, each seemingly brand new and gleaming silver. The first held an assortment of undergarments and a beautiful red dress, much like that Ara had seen in her dreams. It was a slim number, long in length with a slit up the side. The second held heels, three pairs of different styles all matching the dress. The final held a jewel box with necklaces, earrings and bracelets of all types. One final item Ara would find may be the most interesting of all to her. Within the aforementioned dress she would find and old friend that had been slipped into a concealed compartment of her dress. One who had kept her from the voids embrace and brought Bryce to save her... Ba'Vanim


: [member="Ara Ren"] , Who are you? What do you want? :




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[Ara Zambrano]

When the Magician appears in a spread, it points to the talents, capabilities and resources at the querent's disposal. Depending on the card's placement in relation to other cards, the message is to tap into one's full potential rather than holding back, especially when there is a need to transform something. There are choices and directions to take. Guidance can arrive through one's own intuition or in the form of someone who brings about change or transformation.

The card can mean that a manipulator is floating around, usually if it's reversed. He may be a beneficent guide, but he does not necessarily have our best interests in mind. He may also represent the querent’s ego or self-awareness. He can also represent the intoxication of power, both good and bad.

Continued from: Some Like It Hoth






Her eyes adjusted through the waves of the bacta tank, glass and liquid obscuring her vision beyond its normal capabilities. The red hair was familiar, her memories mixing with reality until the Knight couldn’t tell where one ended and the next began. As realization began to dawn, the lights cut out, her world going dark. For a moment, she began to thrash, her fear seizing within her throat, the nothingness she’d floated in before overcoming her before a single spotlight illuminated the man in the center of the room again.

Her Hapan heritage had supplied the girl with a multitude of strengths: beauty, charisma, grace…but, as with anything, it had its drawbacks. The largest being the inherited low-light blindness that came with a millennia spent on a planet forever bathed in the light of the stars. The light that shone through the room was barely enough to see by, the brunette watching the figure as music began to play, eyes widening in surprise, her lips curling in an expression of disdain. She truly hoped she was dreaming, even as her eyes traced his steps, his hands glowing with the fire he summoned as he danced, the haunting tune floating around her, oddly muffled by the liquid surrounding her prison.

The room stilled, the figure in the center frozen, hand outstretched towards her in invitation even as his voice floated through her mind.

:The sleeper must awaken, feel alive and join me...:

The shock of it threw her back, her spine colliding with the edge of the tank, her own surprise and the flash of fire in front of her momentarily overriding any thought of the absurdness of the situation she found herself in. The mechanical click of a drain opening, followed by the hiss and gurgle of the chamber decompressing, as it was drained of live-saving liquid. The moment her feet touched the ground, the knight tore the breathing mask from her face and gasped for air, slumping to her knees as the tank finished its decompression process and opening, sounds and smells filling her reality until her mind span from overstimulation.

Giving herself a moment to acclimate to the barrage of stimuli and the simple feeling of gravity and life returning to muscles too long unused, she slumped forward on hands and knees, breathing heavily. Glancing up from beneath lowered lids, her gaze was drawn to three silver droids standing in the center of a room now devoid of any other signs of life. Rising to her feet, the knight moved swiftly towards the first of the three, eyes locked on the box it bared, hand outstretched towards the contents within. Stopping within reach of the item, her fingertips hovered over the pulsating signature within, breath speeding up from the knowledge that she not only felt what was within, but from its mere existence before her.

Her heart studded as she stood, for a moment bathing in the warmth of the aura emanating off her saber, Ba’Vanim, Deadly Beauty. Tearing off the lid to the reveal her weapon, her fingers wrapped around the cool metal, power flowing through her. It was stunted, a trickle where there should have been a roaring stream, but it was there. Her connection to the blanket of power returning, even the slightest bit, a cause for hope.

The moment of reunion passed as she eyed the rest of the contents of the container, red, silky fabric folded neatly. Raising an eyebrow, saber still clutched in one hand, she pulled the garment from its resting place and chuckled darkly. A quick gaze at the last two droids revealed accessories to match, her eyebrows further winging up as she took them in, lips flattening into a neutral expression.

: Ara Ren , Who are you? What do you want? :

The whisper was less surprising this time, her mysterious benefactor long gone from the medical bay she’d awoken in.

”I guess it is time for you to find out.”

A shake of the head preceded the woman donning the only outfit available, the knight not all together unhappy with the choice of slinky, form-fitting fabric, the slit doing enough to bare her leg and allow her to run or fight if necessary. Choosing the lowest pair of heels and forgoing the jewelry all together, she turned to the gathered protocol droids.

”A belt for my saber.”

The tone brooked no argument, her expression stern and authoritative. Almost as if they’d anticipated her request, a black leather belt was supplied with the required clip, a soft sigh escaping her as the familiar weight of her blade settled on her hip.

”I assume I am to follow one of you.”

Another eyebrow raise as the furthest one turned and led her out of the medical bay, deeper into the heart of where ever it was she’d found herself, the girl following, watching their path with keen eyes. Whoever had saved her and healed her to full heath had a connection with the one who’d blinded her so many weeks ago. Now it was time to discover exactly who they were. And what they wanted from the Ren.

[member="Bryce Bantam"]

 

[Bryce Bantam]

Hyperspace Aboard "Zero"
Some time after Bespin encounter

I believe in love, never give up...​

I believe your dream, show me a smile,
even though you're overflowing with sorrow,
someday you want to be proud of this moment...​

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The silver droid walked without a word offered to the young Ren. As they walked light would appear seeming from the ceiling above them. It was not the harsh light which she was used to. Not a mechanical light but it had a softness to it light that of a firefly. The light would shine on the smooth living walls of the ship, dancing among the cool blue and purple tones of the of the wall and floor around her. There would be not hard edges, no angles or straight lines. The ship would look and feel organic, because it was.

The droid would eventually reach the a smooth set of doors, with a three pointed symbol over two circles. At it's center was the image of a phoenix wings spread as if ready to take flight.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=49tpIMDy9BE&list=PLA1xosfbaqpcS3pXWYFEDZb_UVh9gxtfK​

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As the doors opened the music would begin again. As if plucked from her dreams the very replica of the ball she had envisioned played out before her. The only difference was the one who danced at its' center. Light from seemingly endless candle operas danced about those that spun and pirouetted before her. All seemed to flow around him, as if he was a puppet master and the remaining figures were just ghosts that obeyed his every whim. As the dance ended he turned and looked directly at [member="Ara Ren"]. With a fick of his hand the aspersions disappeared leaving only the slender figure at the center. Still dressed on a finely tailored suit he would remain still for a moment, metal t-shaped visor seeming to glow.

"Do you know how lucky you are? How the force had gifted you?"

The mans voice was not his own, passed through the vocalizers within the help it would sound strangle comforting and not dissimilar to the ones used by the knights of Ren. With another flick of his hand a table would appear from behind him. On it was set the feast fit for a king or emperor.

"Come, sit at my table, tonight we celibate. For a day like this does not come often."

As he walked over to the table he would pull out a chair at the head, the most honored position. Bryce motioned for his guest to come over, to have a seat and partake in his hospitality. But as she did the voice would return to her mind...

:[member="Ara Ren"] , Who are you? What do you want? :

 

[Ara Zambrano]

[youtube]https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jghgroHc-AM[/youtube]​

Her steps didn’t echo along the corridors as she followed the stoic droid. The ship, as she assumed it was, bereft of the sounds she’d come to know and associate with the flying metal death traps they liked to call spacecraft. Instead, harsh light was replaced with a soft, natural glow, the blues and purples highlighted as they walked, one hand reaching out for a moment to touch the strange planes of the hallway with a puzzled expression before she pulled away sharply, fear of the unknown winning out over curiosity. Turning her attention back to her guide, she schooled her expression into one of unamused neutrality as they approached a set of doors, eyes taking in the symbol inscribed, committing the circles and phoenix to memory as the doors opened and music swelled.

Eyebrows and lips pursed in a frown as she took her que, moving into the room without her metal companion, figures and music cascading around her. Unlike her purgatorial dream, she did not join in this dance, watching from afar as the man from before moved and swirled, his aura hovering on the edge of her awareness, familiar, but still eluding her grasp. Clinching her teeth to prevent an angry growl, she watched as the apparitions vanished with a wave of his hand, one side of her lips curling up in a moment of amusement.

The man in front of her seemed to have a flare for the dramatic, black suit at odds with the metal mask settled on his head, the flashy entrances both here and in the medical bay a bit over the top for her liking.

"Do you know how lucky you are? How the force had gifted you? Come, sit at my table, tonight we celibate. For a day like this does not come often."

Most would be surprised by the electronic tone that issued forth as he spoke, but not the Knight. The Ren, and her former master [member="Kriel Firin"] in particular, preferred the anonymity that such masks and helmets afforded them. Her own half mask with just such a vocalizer had long been destroyed in the battle for Vader’s Castle on Mustafar, a flash of blaster fire rendering it a useless pile of slag and molten metal. The crackle and high pitched tone set her at ease slightly, the girl wondering if she’d been picked up by another member of their order, the idea dismissed as quickly as it had come. She hardly believed the Supreme Leader would appreciate such flamboyance in behavior. Besides, if she was in the custody of the First Order, she suspected [member="Kaalia Voldaren"] would have been by her side when she returned to consciousness. No, it was a far safer assumption that she was in enemy hands, and as such, a prisoner of war.

As the thought crossed her mind, a table flickered into being, her eyes widening, eyebrows winging up in surprise. The chair he pulled out was at the head of the table, her footsteps bringing her closer as her emerald, crimson, and amber gaze inspected the table, one hand running along the edge of the tablecloth with a slight smile. If she was truly a prisoner, she was being treated with an unexpected kindness and hospitality, irons and bars far more expected than balls and feasts.

”And what day, pray tell, is that?”

Pausing just before the chair he offered, her eyes glanced up to meet his through the mask, a polite and friendly expression paired with hard eyes that took in every detail and nuance of the room around her. Her stomach cramped as the smells from the table wafted over her, body craving true nutrients after an untold amount of time floating in the life-saving bacta. A curling of her fingers would be the only outward sign of her urge to give in to his tempting offer, her smile never changing. Was he referencing her miraculous return to life or something unknown to the brunette?

Tilting her head to the side, her eyes narrowed as she inspected the man once again, long hair falling over one shoulder. The aura surrounding him, so familiar…

A wicked smile flashed across her lips as she realized the piece of the puzzle that had eluded her in her confusion. The saber, the aura…he wasn’t just associated with the person who’d robbed her of her force connection, he was her opponent from Skor. Her right hand moved down to her belt, her fingers settling against the cool metal, a simple, but obvious threat.

”I supposed I owe you thanks for saving my life.”

A slight nod in his direction would acknowledge his role in her continued existence, the merit of which she was still debating internally.

”Although, one could agrue that you were also the cause of my…predicament.”

They could stand all day and debate the merits of who was to blame for her mortal wound and subsequent death, herself, the red-haired man, the Jedi master, [member="Caehl Ren"] … but for now she was judging him, his reactions, and his words. She owed him her life, and for that reason alone she would stay the urge to draw her blade, the bloodlust running through her clamouring for revenge. For now, she waited, gaze locked on his, chair empty and inviting before her. A flash of red across her irises the only sign that the same question from before whispered through her mind once again.

[member="Bryce Bantam"]

 

[Bryce Bantam]

An unforgivable tragedy, The answer isn't' where you think you'd find it
Prepare yourself for the reckoning, For when your world seems to crumble again
Don't be afraid, don't turn away, You’re the one who can redefine it
Don't let hope become a memory, Let the shadow permeate your mind and​

Reveal the thoughts that were tucked away, So that the door can be opened again​

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https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YTOtDo0_MI4​

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"Young Ren, we are warriors of action, the empty threat your blade hand makes is not needed. You do not act from a place of strength. Please do not insult me further with such hollow bluffs... Ba'Vanim is a powerful tool, and a worthy companion to its' master. But be careful, it is vain and does not understand the meaning of power... much like its' master."

Bryce let the mechanical tone of his last remarks linger. It was meant as a counter move to Ara's gambit, and a warning for her to expand her mind.

"As for the spectral you laid out before you, one does not die everyday. Like a mythical fire bird you have returned from the ashes of what was your previous existence."

Bryce took a slow step back then sat up an open part of the table cross legged like one who was meditating.

"You are correct, I am the catalyst of your change, but not the only one. Awakenings are rarely kind or magical like the Jedi and those claiming to be enlightened speak of. You stand at a cross roads, what you were is what you grow from now. The question now is how will she choose to grow. Will the warrior continue to lead her down the path of destruction? Consumed by fear and a holy purpose to keep who she protects safe from harm, doomed to fail as what she is tasked with an impossible mission. Or will the enchantress from the streets see this as her chance to regain her place as most beloved in the pantheon of roles. With the failure of the knight, will she be able to usurp power once more..."

Bryce was speaking to the battle that now simmered underneath the lying calm smile of the one before him. A battle he thought she may not even be aware of, at least on a conscious level.

"Or will the true owner of this life appear, will she finally come out of the darkness and into the light?"

[member="Ara Ren"]

 

[Ara Zambrano]

Eyes narrowed, lips curled up in the want of a snarl as he insulted both herself and her blade. Her fingers wrapped around the hilt of her beloved saber tightened, for a moment, pride overcoming wisdom as the urge to prove him wrong, to show the man in the mask that she was not as weak as he wanted to believe, passed. Memory flashed, the last time she’d attempted to power through her weakened and vulnerable state resulting in the white-hot pain of plasma tearing through her side.

Forcing her shoulders and fingers to relax, she dropped her hand as he continued, the mechanical voice both soothing and grating on her ears, similar and yet different from those she was accustomed. As he settled onto the table, a position of meditation taken up in the empty space before them, the Knight reached forward and poured herself a glass of wine, rolling the cool glass between her thumb and forefinger as she listened. Patience won out over anger, pride, and vanity, for the time being.

As his assessment of her drew to a close, she saluted him with the edge of her glass, settling into the chair with all the ease and comfort of a queen on her throne. For just a second, red rolled back across her irises as she sat, expression that of a wince as she expected pain to shoot through her side from the remnants of the massive damage her body had sustained. When no such pain came, her face immediately settled back into that of amused neutrality, eyes flashing with intelligence. Taking a sip of the rich liquid, she raised an eyebrow, the smile on her face taking on a wicked edge as she let silence fall for a moment.

He thought there were three sides to her, warrior, enchantress, and…something else, something more basic and true to her spirit than the two shells she cultivated and pulled around her. He wanted to bring it from the darkness to the light. The thought pulled a chuckle from her throat, another sip of wine following while she contemplated. His comment of failure grated on her, the words bouncing around inside her mind until she wanted to shout in frustration.

”Failure is the way we grow and learn, assuming we survive such encounters.”

The words were tense, a visible crack in the shell of calm acceptance. The words she spoke were wise, but not fully believed by the Knight, this second evidence of true failure in her life as destructive as the first. Both times she’d been saved by someone else, brought back from the brink of death by a power not her own.

Setting the glass down on the table in front of her to avoid breaking it as anger washed over, bringing the slightest threads of power with it. It was a small consolation that her connection was returning, darker emotions making her stronger, although hardly the wash of strength she’d controlled before.

”And if that darkness brings power with it? A position of strength, the ability to destroy your enemies and protect oneself, that is power.”

For a moment she considered elaborating, launching into a philosophical discussing of dark versus light, good versus evil, the end justifying the means, but instead she waited, a game of chess being played, a pawn moved instead of a rook.

”If change is what you seek, you are investing time in the wrong person. I am content where I am. What will you do know, Mr. -?”

She paused, allowing him to fill in the blank of a name as he desired. It seemed only fair that she have something to call him by, as his voice inside her head revealed her known identity to him. If she chose not to play his game, would she find her accommodations far less appealing than those before her now? Would she be turned over to the Galactic Alliance for imprisonment or information? She assumed from the lack of bars and restraints on her person, that she was not fully in their custody for the time being. Only the course of this conversation would reveal the true meaning behind her rescue and revival, her mind spinning on the web of possibility.

[member="Bryce Bantam"]

 

[Bryce Bantam]

There was a sigh from Bryce as he listened to Ara's response. He wondered why he had expected more. Clearly the warrior was unwilling to yeald, so the need to speak further on her growth was useless for the time being.

"Marshal, you may call me that if you so need to name me. It is my rank... To your point, what I seek is meaningless young Ren, as you say you are content to remain, stuck in the dark clinging to false power..."

He let the words carry in the echo of the room. The hollow electronic tones fading into the blackness beyond.

"This mush of the truth I believe you understand. We are connected. From the time we fought on "The fisherking", a piece of you was left in me. When you were light years away it spoke to me when you faced death pleading me to help you. As you died it carried your spirit from oblivion back to this existence. This is not coincidence, this is fate, in this time we are linked our two paths joined. As you rested and healed these thoughts have troubled me, questions I have meditated on and in silence waited for answers."

With a wave of his hand images of First Order crew logs began to appear. Pictures hovering in the air displayed the logs of men and women now long dead. Visual recordings sent to loved ones they feared they would never receive.

"I made a promise to these souls. That their families would learn of them, that they be able to find peace. The order would never let me tell them the truth, it would... compromise what they would see as a secret mission."

With another wave of his hand the images faded leaving the two in silence again.

"What I offer is what I have taken from you. A way for you to regain your connection to the darker parts of the force, no matter how limited they may be. I can show you how you can restore yourself. Back to the way you were before me met, maybe even stronger. In return you will use what clout you have to aid me in telling the families of "The Fisherking"... the whole truth."

"Do we have an accord?.."

[member="Ara Ren"]

 

[Ara Zambrano]

Inclining her head in acknowledgement of his chosen moniker, Ara tipped the glass in a slow circle as she listened, studying the dark liquid inside before setting it back on the table. Choosing not to take another sip, the Knight placed the fragile glass on the table in front of her, tracing the lip with the pad of one finger lightly.

He spoke of a connection between them, her own internal anger growing within as he continued, memories of the last connection she shared with another flooding back into the forefront of her mind. Trembling fingers wrapped around the stem of the glass as Darkness answered the rising tide of emotion, eyes bleeding to crimson as politeness bled away with each thought. The sound of splintering glass filled the air, the thin stem of crystal snapping into pieces as power raged out of control for a moment, one hand dripping with rich liquid mixed with a few drops of blood.

Almost as if snapping out of a trace, the power bled away as quickly as it came, whatever dark emotions had led to the outpouring of power nearly draining her, frustration evident in her frown and wrinkled eyebrows. Watching as the stain spread across the fine fabric, fruit and glass glimmering in the dancing light, before returning her gaze to his.

Polite interest replaced frustration and anger, the moment of lost control now gone as the silence hung, her mind chewing over the words she’d managed to hear but lack understanding as she was lost in the past of what felt like another life.

”You offer to return what you have stolen in exchange for the truth of the Kingfisher.”

Sitting back against the back of the chair, she tapped one finger against the top of the table, a small drop of blood rolling down the side to mix with the spilled wine.

”The whole truth as you see it. A betrayal of my government in return for personal power.”

Letting the word hang between them, her eyes locked on his visor, a mask hiding his identity from her. The request he offered was not simple, nor was it as light as he implied. Ara had no doubt the families of those killed aboard the Kingfisher Iv knew their sons and daughters would never return home. They had died in service of their nation, a task most had signed on for willingly.

Rolling his words around in him mind, she debated. Perhaps his own phrasing would offer her some leeway in this deal with her own personal devil.

”By your words, am I to assume that after I have regained my strength and abilities I will be allowed to return to the First Order?”

Her words were a question but the tone was pure Durasteel, an added condition upon her agreement.

[member="Bryce Bantam"]

 

[Bryce Bantam]

As she spoke the masked host reached calmly over and pulled the remaining bits of crystal from he palm once her request was made. With his free hand he produced small object about the size of a shoto lightsaber. With the turn of a dial and the flip of a finger a warm beam of light soon bathed the young Rens bleeding hand. A tingling sensation would come over her and as she looked down all traces of injury to her palm skin would disappear leaving only thin white lines to show any thing had happened at all. Retracting the device and his grasp he would settle back into his meditative pose on the table before speaking to her.

"That is not you," he said with robotic tones while pointing to the shattered wine glass. "If anyone tells you that you are broken kick them in the nuts for me. Many will try to break that which the covet, they will fail less you give into them."

Bryce then took up a cylindrical drinking glass and poured the water it contained into a near by water pitcher. Taking the device from his coat again flipped another nob on it and a small scalpel like blade sprung forth from it. Carefully tracing the base of the glass he cut it away till it clinked upon the hard decking of this room. Putting away the device he held the glass cylinder between his thumb and pointer finger. Holding it up for her to see before placing it on the table next to her.

"Do you know why you can not hold your rage within you any more? Why you can feel the darkside but not command it? It is the same reason this glass before you can no longer hold water. If you were one who believed in the light what I did to you would have been a gift. Like this glass you would now be open to allow the force would to flow into you, free of obstruction. But this is not your way. Those who call upon the dark must be sealed. There must has a place to store their hate, house it like power in a battery till it can be released. No what I did was to taken that from you. I transmuted your hate and the power of your blade into your demise. Your death was my fault because I took away something you cherished..."

"To answer your question..."

"You may return to your precious order whenever you like. It time maybe years your dogmatic and flawed masters may even figure out a way to restore some of your gifts..."

Bryce stood up taking center stage on the dance floor. His fists clinched suddenly and a familiar glow would soon surround him. As if on command the room grew cold and what was a slight breeze grew into a swirling wind. His ora now grew dark, red, and even one without the gifts of the force would feel his rage. Memories of innocents murdered flooded his mind. The horrors of a life time spent fighting for the weak and in need dominated his thoughts and he freely shared them with Ara.

"One need not be puppet to dogma, a slave to narrow minded thought." He voice still metallic would now rise above the wind, aided by force scream he projected like a wall of sound allowing it to wash over Ara like a wave.

"The healer must be able to harm, the warrior may choose to be a pacifist!"

Fire would now begin to dance in the wind around Bryce surrounding him till it engulfed him. The as quickly as it began it ended and the room went pitch black. Their would be stillness, silence in the room. Only the sound of Ara and Bryce's breathing to denote any sign of life.

As the lights slowly returned Bryce would be sitting in the middle of the dance floor again, in the same meditative pose he used when seated upon the table.

"Using only one side of the force is like a warrior only using one arm in battle. Those who use two will naturally have an advantage. The force is not mutually exclusive, both my exist within the user should they wish to learn and be committed to finding balance. The balance I speak of is not the false Zen of Jedi, not the fleeting rage of the Sith, not the flawed control of the Ren. It is more, it is existing on the edge of the blade. It is freeing your mind into a deeper understanding of the force, the true force."

"Ara, I can teach you power. True power no one can take from you. In return you must swear to help me fulfill a promise I have made. A promise to those you would call your people..."

[member="Ara Ren"]