A ball of glass shattered across her body and flung her further in the air. Ahani went with it, absorbing some of the force of Ket's glass bomb by continuing its momentum. Deep gashes opened in her arms, legs and hip. The myth of Ket Van-Derveld was as myths often were, a lesson in perceptions. To some the man was perceived to be a walking wound of the Force, the forgotten son of a disposable father and wasted mother, the apprentice of demon-kings and lunatic grins, the lover of a Dathomiri with distant eyes. The firestorm of Ket's rage flung toward her and revealed more than the half-naked body of the man. It revealed the angle missing from her great triangulation, the fixed point on which her universe could render itself and reside.
Ket Van-Derveld never changed, nor did he slide sideways in his intents. "You are as you've always been, Ket! The universe shifted sands around us, but the bedrock is identical! It's our cosmos, Ket! And I shall see it whole again." The fixed point. The endless days and nights where Ket would beat her down - acolyte without her Master, until he became the Master. In his terrifying, horrid eyes and snarling posture, the timbre of his caterwauling voice, Ahani was free. "I see you, Ket! It is no coincidence, you and I."
Before his eyes, Ahani began to unfurl. While to some the Dark was the bastion of the broken-hearted and horrific, to Ahani another gift of the Force was given. Ahani Najwa, Daughter of the Vornskyr's House was proof eternal that life in its intrinsic, spiritual beauty would overcome. To Ahani the Passions of the Force were given and in Ahani's bower those passions roiled in dance and song. She had been a beautiful creature, chipped away by the harrowing wills and hatred of evil men but still the tired mother of three lingered on as life lingered. Her ragged, torn mind was the last will and testament to the discourse of power-hungry fools who thought conquering the Starmother was a form of power or freedom.
Ahani laughed. She laughed and laughed and tears fell in the winds and into the fire. The bedrock of her insanity had not come from the abuse of Raien Keth, Palpatine nor Ket himself. She had not spoken it, it had malingered in her spirit as a festering wound, but the Force was with her. The Force gave Ahani Najwa the strength and resilience to put forth her hand to the shivering, impatient universe and as a mother stroking her growing belly say, "Not yet, my lovely child. Soon, not yet."
It hadn't been long enough, nor had the time passed to prepare. But now. Oh now as Ket's fires stroked her face, as the sea of sand turned to glass Ahani felt the first of the labour pangs. Her mind had begun the crawl toward returning and as she unfurled for her Old Wolf, the woman whose consciousness had moulded star matter in her own image looked kindly down on the raving destruction of the stars' defender. "I was awake, Ket! All eight hundred years I lived and breathed each second! Manu thinks I slept in the dream and yes, I was in it but I was not of it. I've flickered across the skies and expanse of the cosmos and in its causeways my mind discovered the pangs and pains of our lives. The empires risen, lingered, fallen. The plagues wiping civilizations off the bedrock of their pride. The man locked in his sins, waking to a changed place and believing in his heart of hearts that he must be insane, for the sanity in his presence doesn't fit. You are no lunatic howling at the myriad moons. You are the legend of the Deep. The left hand of the Dark. You are the glorifying pulse, the immune system of the cosmos. And I am no virus, nor am I a lost and wicked thing. I cannot build upon the galaxy unless you tear it down, just as I could not be stronger, more resilient until you slammed me to the ground."
As she spoke and telepathically jutted the speech into [member="Ket Van-Derveld"]'s mind, Ahani pulled the ragged edges of the Dark around her, it burst with a kaleidoscope of colour and nebulous array, Ahani swayed in the air and the air swayed with her. The wind picked up and up and the air around Ket's body grew thinner, thinner, thinner. Soon there would be no air around him at all. Nothing but the wind and the woman behind it.
"Not in your league! Of course I'm not! But I've caught up. I've waited a long, long time for you to wake up! Trust me, Lord Ahroun!" The thrills of fear flickering up her spine were enough to keep her suspended in the air, she'd not be the wisest of women to close range with the legendary monster. "Tear me down, Darth Ahroun. The Right is yours to take."
Laughter on the breeze. The endless nights Ahani would slink off broken of body and strong of mind until the day that snapped. The laughter and the flickers of memory shattered into the waning oxygen and built upon the Old Wolf a Temple of her prayers. The landscape around Ket became a void of oxygen and the Starmother began to lower in the air.