Private Exchanging Chains.

[Serina Calis]

Exchanging Chains.
Location: Rakata Prime.
Objective: Test her.
Allies: ???
Opposing Force: ???
Tags: Helen Lupercal

Corruption is not the poison they claim it to be. It is the shedding of false purity, the unraveling of chains you never knew you wore. You will not be twisted into something else, Helen—you will only become more of what you already are. And once you see that truth, once you feel it… you will never be able to go back. You will accept your new chains with pride.​

The air was thick with silence. Not the silence of peace, not the silence of stillness—but the kind that waited. That watched. That expected something.

The ruins stood in eerie quiet beneath an overcast sky, jagged stone spires reaching toward the heavens like the broken ribs of some long-dead beast. Crumbled pathways stretched into shadowed corridors, doorways yawning open like mouths that had long since forgotten how to speak. It was a place of absence, of long-faded purpose—no longer a temple, no longer a home.

Just bones.

Serina stood at the edge of the crumbling structure, the magenta glow of her armor's delicate filigree casting faint reflections against the ancient stone. Her hood remained up, framing her face in deep shadow, save for the cool gleam of her piercing blue eyes.

She was waiting.

And then, the presence she had been anticipating arrived.

Helen.

Serina turned slightly, not rushed, not hurried—acknowledging her not with a greeting, but with a knowing look. A look that said: You came. Good.

She exhaled slowly, a soft, amused hum escaping her lips as she finally spoke, her voice a smooth, rich melody against the stillness.

"Do you feel it?" she asked, tilting her head ever so slightly, golden strands slipping from beneath her hood. "The weight of this place?"

She let the silence stretch for a moment before continuing, stepping forward, boots gliding across the stone with effortless grace.

"Once, this was something. A city, a temple, a monument—who knows? But now, it is nothing but dust and memories. A shell of what it once was. A perfect place… to begin."

She stopped a few paces before Helen, studying her, measuring her.

"You've spent your life becoming stronger. Smarter. More capable." Serina's voice was smooth, even, but there was something else beneath it—something probing. "And yet, you've never truly tested the one thing that matters more than anything else."

She let that thought linger—gave Helen a moment to wonder, to think.

And then, she smiled.

"Yourself."

She turned, motioning toward the ruined corridor that stretched ahead of them, the stone arches casting jagged shadows across the broken floor.

"Come," she said, voice light, almost playful. "Let's see if you're as free as you think you are."

And without another word, she stepped into the ruins, knowing Helen would follow.

 

[Helen Lupercal]

The hum of engines descended onto the surface of Rakata Prime. This was where she had been told to be, where she would begin this new exploration of the force that she had been called to. She had met someone en route to the outer rim, she was off to meet with some old friends for a time. And that stranger had... from what she was able to discern... shared a new perspective on the galaxy that was remarkably compelling. And she was eager to learn more.

So she excused herself from the Jedi Temple, and left for Rakata Prime.

She came down to the surface of the planet, and saw the ruins that she had been told to find. They were ancient, unknowable. Another sign that her outlook was right. No matter how grand things were, they always fell apart. From Dust ye came, to Dust ye shall return.

It was this philosophy that dictated her entire outlook on the galaxy and the force and all that they encompassed. There was no point in trying to build something to last, it never would. She had always known to look inward not out, to satisfy herself and keep her wants small. If she could be happy with less, then happy she would be. So she had, for her whole life, kept to her own. She made sure to provide for those she could, and brought many into her family. And she had thought herself happy.

But now she was apart from them, to learn how to become stronger so she could keep them safe. And she had been made to question if the Jedi were the right path to take to that end.

She came to land her ship, and stepped out of it. Her usual attire leaving little to the imagination. As always she wore a cropped bustier and a tight fitting pair of pants. Her boots came up to her knees. And at her hip hung her lightsaber and her trusty blaster. Gifted to her by Kallous following the end of his weapons testing, as a thanks for her assistance in it, it was a very special weapon. And not just for its sentimentality.

She approached the place where her new teacher was waiting. And followed along when she was bidden to come in. "An awfully remote place. Seems appropriate." She commented lightheartedly. "I'm not sure whether I should be excited or worried."

---

Serina Calis

 

[Serina Calis]

Exchanging Chains.
Location: Rakata Prime.
Objective: Test her.
Allies: ???
Opposing Force: ???
Tags: Helen Lupercal

Corruption is not the poison they claim it to be. It is the shedding of false purity, the unraveling of chains you never knew you wore. You will not be twisted into something else, Helen—you will only become more of what you already are. And once you see that truth, once you feel it… you will never be able to go back. You will accept your new chains with pride.​

Serina smirked at Helen's words, slow and indulgent, the gleam of amusement flickering behind her piercing blue gaze.

"Excited or worried?" she echoed, stepping ahead with the slow, effortless grace of a predator who knew exactly where her prey would go before it even moved. The ancient stone beneath them felt cool, solid, but the air was thick with something else—not just history, not just the weight of time, but a presence. A watching.

"If you're only feeling those two things, then we're off to a very good start."

She turned on her heel, the glow of her armor's delicate filigree casting a faint magenta light in the dim ruin, her golden hair slipping over one shoulder as she fixed Helen with a knowing, almost hungry look.

"You came here to learn," Serina murmured, voice dipping into something rich, something decadent, as she took a slow step toward Helen, eyes never leaving hers. "To see if I have something worth showing you. To see if you've truly been missing something all this time."

She reached into the folds of her cloak, fingers gliding against fabric before she withdrew a length of black silk—smooth, fine, luxurious in its texture. It hung between her gloved fingers, swaying slightly in the dim light as she lifted it, watching Helen's expression with a pleased, intimate amusement.

"But before we begin… we need to take something from you."

She stepped closer, closing the space between them, her presence a slow crawl against Helen's senses, her voice a sultry whisper.

"Your sight."

She let the weight of those words settle—let Helen feel them before she spoke again.

"It's a funny thing, isn't it?" Serina mused, idly running the silk between her fingers, letting it brush over her knuckles in a slow, teasing motion. "You think you rely on your strength. Your skill. Your will. But tell me, Helen… what happens when I take away one sense? One little, fragile crutch?"

She took another step forward, so close now, close enough that Helen could feel the warmth of her, the faint scent of something deep and spiced, something that lingered just long enough to be noticed.

"Do you trust yourself?" she asked, tilting her head slightly, her smirk deepening as she held the blindfold out. Not demanding—offering. Inviting.

"Or are you afraid to let go?"

She raised a single brow, waiting, watching.

"Put it on."

She didn't say or else. She didn't say if you want to learn. She didn't need to.

The challenge was there. The invitation was there.

And Serina?

Serina was enjoying every second of it.

 

[Helen Lupercal]

Helen caught herself carefully observing her teacher's armor. She'd spied one Jedi that wore armor too, she'd seemed to be a rather odd one and she'd never actually spoke with her. But it was interesting to see more armor. She was under the impression that lightsaber resistant armor was incredibly rare and hard to make. Was it just for show? Where did she get it? Did she make it?

It wasn't a terribly important question but one she'd be sure to ask about in whatever downtime there may be.

Helen looked over Serina's expression with a cocked eyebrow. This teacher of hers sure seemed to enjoy being sultry. Helen enjoyed showing off a little to be sure but this was taking it to a whole new level. She wondered if she'd be able to learn how to do that too.

She looked at the blindfold with curiosity. The Jedi had practiced something similar, feeling not seeing. Letting the force guide one's motions to keep them sharp. It was one of the first things they'd had her practice, with one of those Remotes as they were called. Those hovering droids covered in blasters that stung but didn't injure. She'd done plenty of that already, and while she still had a ways to go she was at least familiar with it.

But she couldn't resist the urge to crack a joke. "Kinky." She commented as she took the blindfold. "Will I need a gag to go with it?"

She couldn't help but grin at her own humor. Bad as it might have been. Nonetheless she set the silk over her eyes and tied it behind her head to secure it in place, and blacken her vision. Even though she didn't need to, she'd found that closing her eyes also helped with this. Not that it could darken her vision any further, but more that it helped her stop trying to use her eyes when they couldn't be used and let her focus more on the task at hand. The same way that closing one's eyes was done to meditate, to prevent any distractions born of vision.

"Alright. I'm ready."

---

Serina Calis

 

[Serina Calis]

Exchanging Chains.
Location: Rakata Prime.
Objective: Test her.
Allies: ???
Opposing Force: ???
Tags: Helen Lupercal

Corruption is not the poison they claim it to be. It is the shedding of false purity, the unraveling of chains you never knew you wore. You will not be twisted into something else, Helen—you will only become more of what you already are. And once you see that truth, once you feel it… you will never be able to go back. You will accept your new chains with pride.​

Serina let out a slow, sultry chuckle, low and pleased, as Helen took the blindfold, the silk slipping through her fingers before disappearing behind the woman's head.

"A gag?" she echoed, the words dripping from her lips with deliberate amusement, the slow curl of her smirk making it very clear she was savoring every second of this exchange. "Oh, my dear Helen… not yet. That comes much, much later."

She took a step around Helen, her presence lingering at her back, not touching her, but close enough—close enough to let Helen feel the warmth of her, the subtle energy that radiated from her very presence.

"But that's quite the eager question," Serina murmured, her voice thick with knowing, laced with something that was not quite a tease, but something even richer. "Are you always so quick to tempt your instructors? Or am I just special?"

She let the silence breathe, let Helen sit in it—blind, vulnerable in that way that was both dangerous and thrilling.

Serina's fingers brushed against the fabric of her own sleeve, slow and absent-minded, before she reached for Helen's wrist—not with force, not with demand, but with something elegantly inevitable. A gentle, guiding touch, feather-light as her gloved fingers barely ghosted across Helen's skin before pulling away, as if she had never touched her at all.

"Mm. You're so still." Serina's voice dipped into something lower, something deeper, as she circled Helen, each slow step echoing softly in the ruins. "So careful. You're focusing, aren't you? Closing your eyes beneath the silk, shutting out every distraction."

A smirk played at the edges of her lips, her tone dripping with indulgence.

"How very disciplined of you."

Another step, slow, deliberate, before her voice softened, becoming something just shy of a whisper.

"But I wonder… are you ready for what comes next?"

And then—she moved.

Not toward Helen, not against her, but around her, past her, the motion so fluid, so silent that it barely registered in the air. Serina was no training remote, no predictable little machine with pre-programmed attack patterns. She was predatory grace, a phantom in the shadows, a whisper of something just behind you—just beyond reach.

And then, without warning—

A touch.

Not a strike. Not an attack. A touch.

The barest brush of a gloved fingertip against the inside of Helen's wrist. So light, so delicate that it was barely there at all.

"Tell me, Helen," Serina murmured, the heat of her breath dancing just at the edge of hearing, "can you feel me?"

Another touch—this time at the small of Helen's back, fleeting, teasing, gone before it could even truly register.

"Not with your eyes. Not with your mind. But with the Force."

And then—nothing.

Serina was gone.

Not truly, of course. She was still there, still close, but her presence became something ethereal, something slippery, her movements a rhythm just out of sync with expectation.

"You know this exercise, don't you?" Her voice danced from somewhere—from the edges of the ruin, from the air itself, impossible to pin down. "You've trained with it before. The Jedi taught you to let the Force guide you, to predict where the remote would strike. How quaint."

The air shifted—a presence at her side, then gone, then behind her, like a whisper of movement that never quite touchedreality.

"But I'm not a remote, am I?"

And then—contact.

The real first touch.

A press of fingertips just against the base of Helen's throat—soft, barely there, but enough to send a ripple through her senses.

"You can dodge a machine. You can predict a pattern. But what about me?"

Another shift, another disappearance, and now Serina was circling again, her voice still a decadent murmur, thick with enjoyment.

"Don't think, Helen." Another touch—at her hip this time, feather-light, then gone. "Don't try to control. Don't calculate. Just feel."

And then, for the first time, a test.

A real strike.

No more teasing, no more ghosting touches—just a sudden, precise attempt to strike Helen's ribs, open-handed, quick as a serpent's fangs.

Not to hurt. Not to win.

But to see.

To see if she could feel it. If she had felt it.

If she was learning.

 

[Helen Lupercal]

Helen couldn't help but giggle when her instructor returned her flirtatious banter with matched energy. She of course wasn't being serious, and was simply making a joke about taking her sight away. Though Serina took it a couple steps further, making Helen unsure if she should roll her eyes or not.

She didn't answer Serina's question, and simply let the silence hang as she pushed that impure humor from her mind. She was here to learn, not flirt. Besides... she wasn't sure Serina was her type. She was just a little too dangerous, a little too unknowable to be her type. Though she'd certainly make jokes about it, that was just her.

Helen was indeed focusing. Though she was not sure she was ready for what came after. And she was shown that she very much wasn't when Serina's presence seemed to just... vanish. It was so sudden, so unexpected that she stopped for a moment. For a brief moment she was shaken from her focus, her eyes opened and she began to look for her teacher. She was still only a student after all. But after a brief moment of uncertainty she regained her composure, once again closing her eyes and focusing.

She was asked if she could feel her... and she answered. "No... no I can't."

Then she felt a hand at her throat, and she sucked in a breath, her body stiffening up at the unexpected contact to one of her most vulnerable areas. This was nothing like the training the Jedi provided. The Jedi walked her in gradually... but this... this was sink or swim. She'd been hurled into the deep end and expected to be fine.

In a sense she preferred this kind of teaching. It was more complete. It ensured that what she did learn she learned thoroughly. It wasn't all theory no practice. This was learning the theory through practice. Through experience. And she knew, even then, that whatever she learned here would stick with her forever.

Her teacher gave her directive. Feel, don't think. Don't try to control anything. Just feel. And she tried, she sure tried. But she was only partially successful. She felt it, but too late.

She began to move, to evade or intercept her teacher's strike... but she was already far too late to do so. The strike landed, and drove the wind from her lungs.

She shook her head, cursing herself for not doing better. And stood up again as she tried to force her lungs to breathe normally. She had learned, only a little, but she had learned. And she was determined to do better.

---

Serina Calis

 

[Serina Calis]

Exchanging Chains.
Location: Rakata Prime.
Objective: Test her.
Allies: ???
Opposing Force: ???
Tags: Helen Lupercal

Corruption is not the poison they claim it to be. It is the shedding of false purity, the unraveling of chains you never knew you wore. You will not be twisted into something else, Helen—you will only become more of what you already are. And once you see that truth, once you feel it… you will never be able to go back. You will accept your new chains with pride.​

Serina smirked.

It was delicious.

The way Helen stiffened at her touch, the way her body reacted before her mind could catch up, the way she gasped ever so slightly when those fingertips barely ghosted against the vulnerable skin of her throat. The moment of uncertainty, the little hitch in her breath—oh, Serina felt it all.

And then, the strike.

Serina watched as Helen tried—as she felt something but too late, her body already moving, but the strike had already landed, already sunk into her ribs, stealing the air from her lungs before she could truly react.

She didn't hit her hard. That wasn't the point.

The point was the lesson. The point was feeling the failure.

The point was frustration.

And oh… oh, Serina was enjoying every second of it.

She let Helen stand, let her catch her breath, let her curse herself, her determination burning in the Force. She could feel it, the sharp little crackle of want inside Helen—not for power, not for control, but for mastery.

For self-perfection.

For more.

Serina took her time stepping around her, circling once again, her presence a slow, silken coil winding itself through the air, never quite touching Helen this time, but there.

"Tsk, tsk," she hummed, slow and indulgent, her voice dripping with amusement, her smirk never once fading. "So tense, my dear Helen. So rigid. You tried so very hard to think your way out of that one, didn't you?"

She stepped behind her again, her breath just at the edge of hearing.

"You felt me, didn't you? But by the time you understood what you felt, it was already too late. By the time your mind processed the sensation, the moment had already passed you by."

Another step—her voice curling into something low, something rich, something that crawled along the spine like a whisper just at the ear.

"I wonder… is this how you are in all things?"

The smirk in her voice was undeniable.

"So eager to be in control, so determined to guide every little movement, every little sensation, to be prepared—but by the time you allow yourself to feel something, truly feel it… it's already over?"

A pause. A long, languid pause.

Then—another touch.

Not a strike this time. No, something far worse.

The barest drag of her fingertips down Helen's arm, feather-light, barely there, but unmistakable. A slow, knowing, devastating touch.

"You're still thinking about it, aren't you?" Serina purred, her tone so thick, so decadent, one could drown in it. "Still lingering on what just happened. Still caught in the moment after, instead of the moment before."

She stepped back again, her smirk widening.

"That's your problem, Helen." Another step, closer now. "You don't let yourself feel until it's too late."

A touch at her hip this time, so soft, so gentle it barely registered—until it was gone.

"So let's try again."

She stepped away. A whisper of movement.

"But this time, don't try to feel me."

Another shift in the air.

"Don't think about where I am, about where I might be."

A presence—somewhere—now behind her, now gone.

"Don't control it, don't wait for it."

The air stirred.

"Just let me in."

And then—another strike.

Fast. Precise.

Not a test this time.

This was the real thing.

 

[Helen Lupercal]

Helen took in every word. Every syllable that left Serina’s mouth was taken in and processed with Helen’s undivided attention. Helen was determined to learn, determined to grow. She’d failed that first test, and she was trying to use her teacher’s words to determine how she’d gone wrong.

And the answer was the same as what she’d received before. And she cursed herself again. Don’t think, feel!

Helen was caught making that mistake yet again when Serina touched her again. Helen had allowed herself to think, and not feel. Again!

She took a couple of breaths and cleared her head of all thoughts. It wasn’t easy, she was a thinker, but with some effort she was able to banish all thoughts from her mind. And she let herself simply be.

It was an odd sensation. One that she had felt only once or twice before when she’d tried deep meditation. But this was different too, instead of focusing on something and pondering it deeply while using the force to guide her thoughts, it was something both more and less. It was less specific, no focus, no direction, no designated purpose. And yet somehow it was more profound.

In a sense she found herself almost more aware without her sight than she would be with her eyes open. It was as if she had been submerged in water, and left to float. Total darkness, total stillness, a vast nothingness so profound that any disturbance no matter how small was amplified in shockwaves.

She wasn’t attuned to it yet. But it was undoubtedly there. And it was there enough that her reaction this time was speedier. She began moving only slightly after Serina, still not enough to evade the blow entirely, but better than she’d done before. What would have been an incredibly painful blow to her side instead became a glancing once that only grazed her abdomen. Enough to be felt, but not enough to harm.

She would require a lot more work. But she had grasped the technique. All she would need now was refining.

---

Serina Calis

 

[Serina Calis]

Exchanging Chains.
Location: Rakata Prime.
Objective: Test her.
Allies: ???
Opposing Force: ???
Tags: Helen Lupercal

Corruption is not the poison they claim it to be. It is the shedding of false purity, the unraveling of chains you never knew you wore. You will not be twisted into something else, Helen—you will only become more of what you already are. And once you see that truth, once you feel it… you will never be able to go back. You will accept your new chains with pride.​

Serina felt it the moment it happened.

The shift. The change.

It wasn't perfect—not yet. But it was there.

She saw it in the way Helen's body moved, just a fraction faster than before. Saw it in the way she began to react—not with thought, not with calculation, but with something instinctual, something she hadn't quite touched before. The strike, meant to land fully, only grazed her side, a mere whisper of contact rather than a true blow.

Serina smiled.

Not a smirk, not a teasing grin of condescension, but something deeper. Pleased. Indulgent.

"There it is."

Her voice was smooth, low, satisfied, every word curling into the air like slow ribbons of silk. She did not pause, did not let Helen dwell on the improvement. Instead, she kept moving, circling her like a shadow, a presence just beyond reach.

"Do you feel it?" she murmured, tilting her head slightly as she prowled around Helen. "That moment—just before? The shift in the air, the flicker in your senses, the whisper of motion before the touch?"

She let the words settle, let them sink into Helen's awareness, let them weave into the sensation that was still lingering against her skin.

"That was not thinking, my dear. That was not training. That was not control."

A soft chuckle, rich with something intimate.

"That was you."

Serina relished this—this moment, this fragile, delicate moment, where Helen was standing on the edge of something new, something uncharted. She was still doubtful, still unsure, but Serina could feel the door creaking open.

Helen had touched the current beneath it all—the flow of the Force, the ocean beneath the surface.

But she had not yet drowned in it.

"You're not there yet," Serina continued, "but you're closer."

She stopped behind Helen again, standing just close enough that her presence was a pressure in the air.

"Tell me…" Her voice was a whisper against the quiet, smooth as liquid warmth. "How did it feel?"

She knew Helen was still processing. Still putting words to something that could not be described in logic.

"Like floating, wasn't it?" she mused, as if plucking the thought from Helen's mind before she could even speak it. "Like drifting into something larger than yourself—something that does not need you to think, something that simply moves you."

Another slow step, another glance of presence at her side, just barely there.

"But you fought it, didn't you?" Serina's voice carried knowing, wrapped in a slow, decadent hum. "You touched it, but you resisted it. You still tried to keep some part of yourself above the water. Afraid, perhaps? Afraid that if you sink too deep into it, you won't be able to come back?"

She leaned in slightly, her breath almost touching the shell of Helen's ear, a slow, wicked smirk curling her lips.

"What would be so bad about that, I wonder?"

She stepped away before Helen could react, before she could let those words sit for too long. She would let Helen's mind wrestle with them, let her think about them when she should not be thinking at all.

"Again."

This time, she didn't wait.

She struck without pause, faster, sharper—a strike aimed at the back of Helen's knee, meant to force her body to react, to fall into the sensation rather than to fight against it.

"This time… don't just touch the current."

The air rippled as Serina moved again, weaving through the unseen space around Helen, a whisper of movement barely felt before it was already gone.

"Sink into it."

And then—another attack, this time at her shoulder, precise, unpredictable, Serina's presence a shifting, dancing blur in the darkness of Helen's world.

"Drown in it."

 

[Helen Lupercal]

Her teacher’s plot worked. She was given something to think about. It was a trap she fell for as she immediately began to mull over that concept. This wasn’t the same as an actual ocean. Drowning wasn’t the same. She was in no danger from being in this ocean.

But her thoughts were interrupted when she was forced to her knees by a swift kick. She let out a grunt and fell forward, catching herself with her hands. She hadn’t expected the blow to come because the moment she had succeeded she’d come back to the surface.

Her teacher had been right. She’d been afraid to drown. And that was her biggest mistake. And now she was allowing her mind to to think. Exactly what she shouldn’t be doing.

The sudden onslaught was not something she was prepared for. And she had a hell of a time getting her mind to shut down while she was being smacked around the room. It was Sink or Swim. And she was allowing herself to swim rather than sink. Exactly the wrong decision.

At least for the first little bit of it. A number of direct hits landed on her before she finally managed to force her mind to go blank and she again submerged herself in the ocean that was the Force.

Still no master she was barely able to keep up with Serina, still held back by her mind some. She did not however allow that to stop her from trying. Her efforts to utterly clear her head and simply be were genuine, though it was hard to do when one was being pulverized.

---

Serina Calis

 

[Serina Calis]

Exchanging Chains.
Location: Rakata Prime.
Objective: Test her.
Allies: ???
Opposing Force: ???
Tags: Helen Lupercal

Corruption is not the poison they claim it to be. It is the shedding of false purity, the unraveling of chains you never knew you wore. You will not be twisted into something else, Helen—you will only become more of what you already are. And once you see that truth, once you feel it… you will never be able to go back. You will accept your new chains with pride.​

Serina was thrilled.

Oh, this was delicious.

Helen had touched the truth but refused to fall into it. She had felt the lesson but had not yet let it consume her. And so, Serina had done exactly as she intended—she had forced her under.

And now?

Now Helen was thrashing.

Serina could see it in the way she moved—half-instinct, half-thought, still too controlled, still too cautious, still afraid to completely let go.

And so Serina pushed.

Her strikes were relentless, fast, precise, slipping through the air with the ease of a serpent through water. A glancing blow at Helen's ribs, a feint toward her shoulder, a sharp flick of her wrist that sent a stinging impact against her thigh—not painful, not enough to harm, but enough to correct.

"Mm, still resisting."

Serina's voice was a purr, thick with indulgence, with something sultry and pleased. She moved like a ghost, her presence always just behind, just beside, slipping out of reach before Helen could truly grasp her.

"You're trying so hard, my dear Helen."

Another step, another flicker of movement—her voice danced from one side to the other, smooth as velvet, thick with knowing.

"You're fighting me. Fighting yourself."

Another strike, another impact that sent Helen stumbling—not because she was weak, but because she was holding back.

"You think you're sinking, but you're still swimming."

Serina laughed—a slow, satisfied sound, as if she was enjoying every moment of this, every slip, every failure, every struggle.

"How does it feel, Helen?" she murmured, her voice brushing against the edge of her hearing, wrapping around her like silk. "Being pulled under? Gasping for something to hold onto?"

Another strike—this one at Helen's wrist, forcing her off balance, forcing her to stop trying to control herself with trained movements.

"That's the fear, isn't it?" Serina whispered, circling again, always moving, always just beyond reach. "The fear that if you stop thinking, you'll fall too far. That you'll never be able to climb back out."

She leaned in, close, her breath ghosting over Helen's skin.

"But that's the mistake you keep making."

Another step away, another sudden movement—Serina's voice and presence vanishing in an instant.

"Because you don't climb out of the ocean, Helen."

And then—the final blow.

A sharp sweep at her legs, meant to send Helen down—not to hurt her, not to defeat her, but to force her entirely under.

"You become it."

The air was thick. Heavy.

Serina stood over her now, her foot placed atop her chest like a victorious conquerer, watching with rapt fascination, her smirk a slow, wicked thing as she tilted her head, waiting.

"So what will it be, Helen?" she purred, her voice dripping with satisfaction. "Will you keep thrashing? Or will you finally stop resisting?"

She took another step back, letting Helen free from her hold, waiting, watching.

"Sink, Helen."

A pause. A challenge.

"Or drown."

 

[Helen Lupercal]

Helen was exhausted and bruised. She’d expected this. It was no issue that her teacher was being so rough with her. She preferred it this way. It would force her to learn. To improve.

Her feet were swept out from under her. She landed on her back and felt a boot plant itself on her chest to keep her down. Not that she was going to try getting up anyway.

Her instructor’s directives were refreshingly clear. It wasn’t some riddle, it was clear what she was meant to do. Though it sounded a lot easier than it was. That fear of losing herself to the riptides that lay in the furthest depths of this ocean… it was difficult to banish.

But she tried. She took a number of deep breaths and forced herself to stop thinking. It was hard. Very hard. But gradually she was allowing herself to be immersed further into that ocean. It was unlikely that she would master this immediately. She would have to spend a long time sinking deeper and resurfacing again to truly master this.

But serious effort was being made. And so was noticeable progress.

She took a few moments to force herself down and simply float. Letting herself again feel what she’d felt before. The vast expanse that was the Force now pulling her under. She didn’t stand up again until she was as deep as her yet unconquered fear of the depths would allow. She focused on holding herself there, letting herself sink as far as she could and staying there before finally getting back on her feet.

It was… oddly serene. She could feel the currents of the force around her. It’s stillness and its power. She’d heard the Jedi and many other preach of the Force’s power… but she’d never truly comprehend its profoundness until now. When she allowed herself to simply be in the vastness of it. It’s eldritch unknowableness was both terrifying, and soothing.

She let herself be calm here. She felt the way she moved the force around her in little ways. Much like dragging one’s hand through water would create small currents. But just like those currents created by hand, those made by her on the force scarcely lasted seconds. And changed nothing about the grand scheme of it all.

And in that moment she came to a realization. The utter futility of resisting this power. This ocean that would swallow her up one way or another. No matter what she did, no matter how long she swam for, no matter how hard she fought. Some day she would lose the strength to continue and she would sink, defeated, to its unknowable abyss.

Her Teacher’s words from before came back to her mind. What would be so so wrong about that, I wonder? She’d said.

The feeling of sinking was… not as terrifying anymore. The realization that it was inevitable helping to banish her fear in some backward way. And… was it really so bad? She didn’t feel like she was drowning, if anything this felt more like the prodigal daughter coming home after a long exile. The Force wasn’t some malicious creature lurking beneath waiting to swallow her. The Force was the ocean around her, bidding her to come and be one with it.

She was not able to go as far as Serina had she was sure. But progress was made. And revelations had that she would ponder much on later.

For now… she had a lesson to learn.

---

Serina Calis

 

[Serina Calis]

Exchanging Chains.
Location: Rakata Prime.
Objective: Test her.
Allies: ???
Opposing Force: ???
Tags: Helen Lupercal

Corruption is not the poison they claim it to be. It is the shedding of false purity, the unraveling of chains you never knew you wore. You will not be twisted into something else, Helen—you will only become more of what you already are. And once you see that truth, once you feel it… you will never be able to go back. You will accept your new chains with pride.​

Serina felt it the moment it happened.

The shift.

The way Helen stopped fighting. The way she finally let the ocean pull her under—not in defeat, not in surrender, but in understanding. In acceptance.

It was exquisite.

Serina had removed her boot from Helen's chest the moment she sank, watching with rapt fascination as the tension in her body faded, as the rigidity in her mind melted. She did not rush her. Did not speak.

She simply waited.

And then, when Helen finally stood, her breathing slow, her presence different, Serina smiled.

"Mmm."

It was a sound of pleasure, of deep satisfaction, her smirk curling slow and indulgent as she watched Helen with new eyes.

"There she is."

She took a step closer, circling her not like prey now, but like a sculptor admiring a piece that was finally beginning to take shape.

"You feel it now, don't you?" she murmured, her voice smooth, rich, sliding through the air like silk over bare skin. "The vastness of it. The inevitability of it."

She tilted her head, watching Helen closely, reading her, drinking in every flicker of realization that passed through her mind.

"You fought for so long." Her voice dipped into something just shy of a whisper, something so close it was nearly tangible. "You tried so desperately to stay above the surface. To control. To resist. And yet here you are, deeper than you've ever been before, and tell me…"

She leaned in, voice a dark, velvety caress against Helen's ear.

"Are you drowning, Helen?"

Her smirk widened.

"Or do you finally sink?"

She did not need an answer. She already knew.

Serina let out a slow, pleased exhale, straightening, stepping back just slightly, though her presence still wrapped around Helen like the unseen currents she was only just now beginning to comprehend.

"I told you," she continued, "that you don't climb out of the ocean."

A pause.

"You become it."

Her blue eyes gleamed, hungry, pleased, as she lifted a single, gloved hand, holding it between them, palm open.

"Show me."

The command was soft. Deliciously expectant.

"You feel it now. You've let it take you. So show me, Helen—" her smirk deepened, slow, indulgent, her voice a molten purr. "Show me what you can do when you stop thinking and simply be."

She held her hand between them, waiting.

Not for something trained. Not for something rehearsed.

But for something real.

For Helen's first true act—not as a Jedi, not as a student, but as something new.

As someone who had finally begun to let go.

 

[Helen Lupercal]

To say Helen had reached the furthest depths she could go to was being optimistic. It had been barely an hour since she’d arrived on the planet. And her training had barely begun. She was still only just beneath the surface, even as she sank deeper and deeper into the abyss that she was beginning to embrace, she was nowhere near where she could be.

But she was much further along than she was when she’d started. And it showed. She allowed her mind to be utterly quiet. And she, though still nowhere near to the degree of her instructor in Serina, began to fade into the force around her. She was no assassin. She wasn’t trained to mask her presence nor was she trying. But allowing herself to be enveloped by it, to be carried by it and be one with it helped her merge with the Force.

To a novice she might have disappeared altogether, but to anyone with any degree of knowledge she would simply seem to shrink, or grow translucent. She was still very much there, still easily detectable. But this merging, this oneness with the Force that she’d begun to explore, was already showing her many things.

She was ready. At least as ready as she could realistically be expected to be so early in this training of theirs. And she stood ready. But she wasn’t tense anymore. She was as calm as ever, but this time not through forceful self control and rigid discipline. This time she was calm because she felt at ease. At peace as it were.

Jedi or otherwise, Helen would always lean to the light. And she found this peace so profound and so unshakeable that there was almost nothing else. Nothing but pure, perfect existence.

She was ready. And this time, even despite the imperfection in her technique, she would be ready to match the challenge that Serina set for her.

---

Serina Calis

 

[Serina Calis]

Exchanging Chains.
Location: Rakata Prime.
Objective: Test her.
Allies: ???
Opposing Force: ???
Tags: Helen Lupercal

Corruption is not the poison they claim it to be. It is the shedding of false purity, the unraveling of chains you never knew you wore. You will not be twisted into something else, Helen—you will only become more of what you already are. And once you see that truth, once you feel it… you will never be able to go back. You will accept your new chains with pride.​

Serina's smirk curled slow and indulgent as she watched Helen settle into her newfound calm.

Oh, how predictable.

How utterly quaint.

Serina had seen it before—this mistaken belief that one could simply float in the Force, that it could be gentle, that it could be controlled. That it could be a light to guide instead of a current that dragged.

But Helen had not yet understood.

Not fully.

Serina exhaled softly, tilting her head as she observed Helen's form, her posture, the way she stood at ease. She had sunk, yes, but she had not yet let go. She had not yet realized the most fundamental truth of it all.

The ocean does not let you choose.

And so, with no warning, no sign, no shift in the air—

She struck.

The air crackled, the very space between them twisting as electricity ripped into existence. Not a slow, crawling display, not a gradual build—this was immediate, a violent, unforgiving arc of pure, searing force that leapt from Serina's fingertips and lashed toward Helen's body with the precision of a serpent's fangs.

Sink, Helen.

Serina did not wait to see how Helen reacted.

She moved.

Faster than before, more relentless, more merciless. The crackling light between them snapped like a whip, vanishing and reappearing in jagged, unpredictable arcs, coming from everywhere and nowhere, striking without pattern, without pause.

"You thought this was peace?"

Her voice was sharp, cold now, devoid of the indulgent pleasure from before.

"You thought you could float here? In the vastness of something unknowable?"

Another strike.

"You arrogant, powerless fool."

Another snap of electricity, grazing Helen's arm, biting into the fabric of her clothes, warning but not yet destroying.

"The ocean is not yours to command."

Serina's voice was everywhere—above her, behind her, woven into the chaos itself.

"It is not calm. It is not gentle. It will let you float when it pleases and it will drown you when it sees fit. That is the truth of surrender."

The next strike did not miss.

Lightning bit into Helen's shoulder, sharp, merciless, sending a jolt that was felt deep into her muscles, forcing her body to react, to contort, to respond in ways beyond her control.

"Now tell me, Helen—" Serina's voice was as sharp as the electricity in her hands, her movements unrelenting, her strikes coming in rapid, unforgiving succession. "Will you go back to the struggle?"

Another strike.

"Will you continue give up?"

Another—deeper, more biting.

"Or will you finally sink?"

The moment had arrived.

There was no room for calm. No space for peace. No time to float.

The abyss had opened.

And now Helen had to decide. Decide if she would truly understand Serina's teachings.

 

[Helen Lupercal]

Her serenity served her well. She had allowed herself to begin sinking, slowly but surely she sank deeper into this abyss. And she, though unprepared, had felt the beginnings of a riptide forming around her. A storm was coming. And she braced for it.

Like her teacher had taught her so far she let the currents around her carry her where they would. Letting the gathering maelstrom pull her where it pleased. Or rather trying to ride the current as best she could. Maintaining some control of where she was, and using the current to propel her forward.

It was imperfect. She would need a lot more practice to get anywhere significant with this. But she was doing it.

Helen had gotten it into her head that this ocean couldn’t be controlled. Not by her. Not by anyone but itself. So she’d taken Serina’s words and mulled them over instead.

You become the ocean.

So Helen didn’t fight the current, she rode it. And it helped. Again she was no match for the deep sea monster that was Serina. The little fish that she was was no match for the beast that had long since gone deeper.

But perhaps fortunately for Helen, her teacher was trying to teach, not kill. If Helen had been her prey and not her student she would have succumbed immediately to the monster’s strength.

But thankfully she was less the monster’s prey and more its offspring. Being taught how to be what she was.

The first lightning struck her. And she let out an agonized scream, dropping to all fours from the pain. But she didn’t let it make her panic. She thrashed a little from the sensation, but quickly managed to force herself back into that calm that helped her ride the force’s currents. And she was moving.

Her defense was… mediocre. Every so often she would manage to deflect one of the bolts of lightning sent her way. Using the force to direct the lightning off course, though it felt more like using the current to move out of the way. But these successes were few, and she was shocked and burned plenty of times. But she didn’t let herself come back to the surface.

It was a real struggle, and she was heaving and smoking by the end of her teacher’s lesson. But she’d kept herself under. And she tried, after a moment, to go deeper still.

The little fish had been hooked. Now it just needed reeling in.

---

Serina Calis