Ara Zambrano
Sarathiel Ren
Location: Bastion of Ren, Virgillia
Deep within the Bastion of Ren was a silence that hung over all, the sound of footsteps echoing through corridors from the source, the brush of fabric against stone, even the lightest sounds of breathing heralding each new arrival far before shadows could be perceived. The training rooms location in the heart of the mountain were mostly empty, many of the Ren who’d once populated these halls either dead, missing, or away preparing for the war to come, for there was always war on the horizon and they, as the shadowy hand of the Supreme Leader himself would always be there to spill blood in his name.
Ara Ren, or Ara Zambrano now, occupied one of the private suites below, a myriad of weaponry arranged along the walls and resting on natural stone shelves, circles of varying sizes carved into the center of the room. Balanced in the dead center of the smallest of these rings, a mere three meters in diameter, the knight stood still, a pillar of power surrounded by emptiness. The girl concentrated, weapon held tensely in her right hand, the unusual weight and balance of the lightwhip her sole focus.
A quick step forward, one arm raised and flashing out to the side, the sulfuric tendril flashing out in a wide arc, snapping short of the target, a small droid hovering at chest height in the air. A curse as the weapon settled beside her, sparking off the ground where the plasma came to rest. The unhappy pulses of power coming from the saber on her hip was yet another distraction, the blade aching to be used and woefully abandoned as the Ren worked to expand her skills with a new, unorthodox armament.
Fingers tightening around the handle ever so slightly, she turned, shoulders relaxing in a sense of defeat, a familiar aura approaching from the outer hallways drawing her attention for a moment. Once corner of her lips pulled up in a small smile as her training partner came closer, one of few she felt any sort of kindness towards since her once friend’s betrayal. Before he could enter the room, she spun, whip glowing in a fiery trail behind her. Wrist snapping the serpentine weapon upward to collide with the small sphere in a hiss and snap of contact, the smile flared, teeth bared in success.
A simple press of a button had the fire of the whip die in a moment, the Knight turning to welcome the man with a half-bow.
”Thank you for joining me, Brennan.”
The words dripped from her lips in a light purr, eyes crackling with mischief and humor, the socialite mask in place once again.
[member="Caehl Ren"]