Blind Seer


Weapons: Walking stick / Lightsaber Pike
The ruins had long since turned to dust.
Nothing here had burned in recent days — the stones had been cold for years, maybe longer, their scars weathered smooth by relentless seasons. Snow piled in the corners where the temple walls once stood, half-burying the faded sigils of a forgotten Order. Even the echoes had fled.
Aadihr Lidos sat in the hollow of the central courtyard, motionless save for the slow rise and fall of his chest. The blindfold across eyeless face was damp with melting snow, the threadbare hem of his robe stained dark where it clung to the frozen floor. Above him, the sky was a dull smear of grey, offering no light and no warmth.
The pain in his side throbbed with every heartbeat — a deep, lingering ache from wounds not fully mended. He had been stubborn. He had been reckless. He had bled for a cause he still struggled to name aloud. For Azurine. For the hope that she could be saved. For the hope that he could still save anyone at all.
But now, with the rescue complete, in the aftermath all that remained was the cold and terrible, gnawing silence inside his own mind.
Aadihr’s hands rested limp atop his knees. Trembling slightly. Faint bruises still marked his knuckles, reminders of a fight he could not entirely remember — not all of it. Not cleanly. There were black gaps in his memory where rage had overwhelmed him, where the old scars the Jedi taught him to bury had torn open like fresh wounds.
His Force presence, once tightly controlled, leaked around him in quiet spirals: exhaustion, guilt, fear, a flickering anger that he could not quite cage. He had been relying more and more on the rune Kahlil placed as a crutch.
A stronger gust of wind tore through the ruined archways, scattering ice crystals like broken glass. In the distance — faint, but real — he felt a disturbance. A ripple. A presence approaching.
Maybe it was an enemy.
Maybe it was another ghost.
Maybe it was nothing.
Aadihr didn't rise. He didn’t reach for his Pike. He simply stayed where he was, the snow rising against his legs, breathing slow and shallow as his mind's eye wandered further and further away. Once confined to meters, then kilometers, and now stretched further and further into other systems, other planets. He didn't stop wandering through the force for whoever — or whatever — was about to find him.
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