From the other side

[Kiskla Grayson-Matteo]

Dathomir​

When Roche was happening, and the tipping point of The Republic’s downfall — Kiskla was on Dathomir under [member="Kytarra Hawk"]’s (almost) kindred guidance. Immersing herself into the unknown elements of The Force, the Jedi Master was starting to pick up on some nuance differences between the way she’d operated before — and the potential for new applications. She’d hit the ground though, in the middle of her new understandings. The cold, Dathmorian dirt providing no solace, nor solace from the warm embrace of her nexus, [member="Marcello Matteo"] was nearby. Once again, it had been her and The Force.
Gasps had ragged from her chest for minutes-feeling as though her lungs had been ripped out in the torment the Force handed her.

Her Sword.

“Aaralyn,” she had whispered - the name more alive on her lips than the woman’s reality. The name stung now, though. Delivered in a wistfully, woeful tone Kiskla had never expected to hear from her own voice. The Sword of her Order sent agony through the Force, whimpering out with less intensity than Kiskla would have ever supposed. The reality of both her, and Aaralyn’s life pointed to inevitable perishing; but Kiskla had always thought she’d be beside Aaralyn in that moment. The fact that The Sword was still so active, when The Redeemer was so far gone from The Order did make her proud though. She had been right about Aaralyn’s prophetic abilities — but in the current, there was so much she didn’t know. Who did this to her friend? She was woefully cut off since her recovery time with Avalore, Marcello and then straight to Dathomir. That which she knew, was unknown to her — Marcello wisely not filling her in wholly to keep her from jumping back into action before she was completely ready.

A shudder ripped through her bones, her body cold with distraught and she stayed on all fours for some time in her solitude — the only sound in her cavern being the crackle of the flames and her heavy breaths.

It was a few days after Kiskla had felt [member="Aaralyn Rekali"]’s wail in The Force. Being driven as she was, she hadn’t stopped training with the Witch who had kindly acquiesced to her being an audience. Now though, the cool evening Dathomiri air was ruffling her blonde tresses. The cavern she was training in was still perched above the warrior camps, which gave her enough isolation to walk through the mountain’s offerings. The only other presences shared up here was the odd, skittering lizard that caused a cloud of dust with its movement. But Kiskla was becoming accustomed to dust, smoke and other mystical clouds. She’d been so deaf to this culture for so long. As it was, night was beginning to fall, and Kiskla settled on a perched rock that gave her just enough breeze to be content. She wasn’t out in the open, either. Which was necessary if she were to offer her senses completely to The Force she knew so well.

Lashes met lashes, and a violet veil covered her eyes as she calmed her breathing. Her palms rested against her knees as she kept her shoulders back, chin pointed almost defiantly toward the horizon in a stoic, statuesque rest.

Meditation had never tickled Kiskla’s fancy. She only resorted to clearing the present and focusing on nothing when really importance decisions needed to be made, such as disbanding the Jedi Council. Or reaching out to The Force.

Beyond Shadows​

​

Kiskla was familiar with the undead. The Son and Daughter had brought her to a place Beyond Shadows several times when she’d been plagued with The Force entities.

Tonight, she would venture there again. Pulling herself from the calculations of time in the galaxy as she knew it, and going to the realm where any measure of time was meaningless. Severing herself from her own body; the mind delving into a dangerous task that she took for granted. But a balance she had trained herself in her teenage years.

There, her ethereal self reached out for that presence she knew so well. If Aaralyn was here, marvellous. If not, there were alternatives to contacting the dead.

Preferably where Kiskla could remain corporeal and [member="Aaralyn Rekali"] be the only ghost between the pair. Some Jedi didn't cultivate themselves when they died, and didn't retain their identities when death knocked on their door. They literally became One with The Force - Kiskla wasn't sure if Aaralyn had ever studied the maintenance of her identity.

Given their affinity for the battlefield, she would assume her blade sister would have done something along the lines of -- but this was no time to assume.

The blonde celestial breathed out a name that drawled for centuries: “Aaralyn?"

 

[The End Narrator]

​

The Violet Reach of the Netherworld.​

Aaralyn remained motionless amongst the field of white trees and purple blades of grass. As the voice from beyond called out to her, she turned to look over her shoulder briefly only to turn back to stare upon the horizon and beyond. Here, in the Violet Reach of the Netherworld – she felt calm and at peace. Her death may have been somewhat violent but that didn’t matter. The life that was beyond this realm – didn’t matter. Being an ethereal presence beyond the land of the living was interesting – yes, she harbored emotions but they weren’t the same as the ones she used to feel. It was a complicated mess to be quite honest. She liked the advantage of being able to change her appearance at whim, for now, she kept it simple.

She wore something familiar to Kiskla – the same nontraditional Jedi outfit she always wore. Black pants, boots to match that had seen better days - a white long sleeve t-shirt and the unique vest she always strode into combat with. There were no Jedi robes, no flowing gown – nothing fancy. Why bother? It was just Kiskla after all. Her hair was held up by some manner in a high ponytail, something she traditionally wore when she was alive. For all intents and purposes, Kiskla would sense the familiar presence by both sight and sound of her voice. Aaralyn spoke, her voice held a strange reverberation, perhaps even a flange.

“Why are you here Kiskla? You aren’t dead…” She muttered as she turned to face her long-time friend, gesturing with a hand. “I should ask, who sent you?” A smirk crossed her lips as she walked through the tall purple grass, the thick violet earth moving from her path as she made her way towards Kiskla’s presence.

[member="Kiskla Grayson"]

 

[Kiskla Grayson-Matteo]

A pull curled around her, like a gentle funnel that coaxed Kiskla in the direction suggested by the Sword of the Jedi. A mercy to the whims of the dead (a set back, not being one that belonged here). This place was calming, a reprieve to what many could consider a Jedi so focused on violence should have ended up with. This was a juxtaposition to [member="Aaralyn Rekali"] ' s life — a peaceful setting that she may have craved for the Galaxy, and now she was finally getting it.

She had earned it.

Kiskla gave into the suggestion of the Dathomiran Jedi and repositioned herself to the violet tickles of grass; still entranced by the intoxicating gentleness the area exhibited.

A small simper twisted the blonde’s full lips as her pearl irises landed on her dear friend. “Marcello sent me, he thinks you’re ducking out on a challenge.” The retort was kinder than the scoff she’d wanted to exhibit. Kiskla did not take direction well — nobody would send her. The trio of them had been close - in different areas of course, different respects. Aaralyn had been the first to know of Kiskla and Marcello's relationship -- and she'd been sworn to damn secrecy! Heavens - if people knew the Grandmaster was living a life of sin?!

“I came. To see you.” This was the first time she’d seen the Jedi Master since they’d been on a leviathan on Manaan. When Kiskla had fallen to the machinations of Vornskr. “I didn’t want this to be real..but..” she looked around “You’ve got a nice set up here.”

The question trembled on her lips, the reality of its weight hidden in the naivety of the asker. She’d come to seek answers from the dead before, Beyond Shadows, but never this answer; “Do you like it?”

 

[The End Narrator]

The mention of Marcello and a challenge caused Aaralyn to close her eyes for a moment.

Aaralyn had become apart of the Force – and by that she could seek out those who were apart of it. Every living being was encompassed by the energy that was, well, universal. She found Marcello before one could bat an eye-lash. Somewhere within the confines of his quarters, a cup of water would rise up – held by the Force. It floated harmlessly over the slumbering Master and then suddenly tipped over upon his face. The liquid would splash down upon his face and hair, no doubt soaking him and waking him up in a rather abrupt, cold manner.

Back to the now, Aaralyn opened her eyes and chuckled softly. “Marcello will find himself needing to dry off before he can offer any challenges.” She shrugged lightly and moved towards a tree closer to the pair. The blades of grass seemed to shrink away - no longer wild and moving freely in a wind that seemed to be directionless. “Oh it’s real, as real as you are to me.” Violet-gold eyes stared at the bark, a hand coming up to touch the rough surface. “I don’t really know if I like it or not. A question for the ages, an question I’ll have to ask myself for eternity I guess.” She clenched her hand against the tree, nails digging into the surface, drawing marks against the tree. “I don’t think it’s the same as living or as being truly dead.”

An odd sentiment but truth none the less. She turned and gestured Kiskla forward. “I feel alone, but I feel at peace with that. I feel scared but again, it’s comforting.” She motioned with her left hand towards the eternal night sky above. “The view is nice but not quite the same.” Another shrug rolled off her shoulders. "It's quite a curious thing, all these feelings yet serenity seems to dominate me."

[member="Kiskla Grayson"] | [member="Marcello Matteo"]

 

[Kiskla Grayson-Matteo]

A brow cocked at the curiousness of [member="Aaralyn Rekali"]'s comment about her chosen being all wet. Perhaps it was a slight to his character? Being a big drip? Nah, the female across from her wasn’t one of those kinds. Confusion ample on her features, her ethereal embodiment shook to represent leaving the topic by the wayside and moving on.

Aaralyn seemed certain she was uncertain, and perhaps this was a benefit of having forever back here. There would be time to figure and sort things out — see what she liked, and what she didn’t like. Although her response was twisted and confusing; the statement was still the same. She was uncomfortable. The question though, remained unanswered; if she longed to be with the living again.

“Small mercies, I suppose.” The Jedi offered, cognizant of Aaralyn’s abuse to the bark in her frustration with the situation.

“Sometimes the unknown can be a thrill. You’re safe here, which is almost the ultimate irony.” She winced at her brutal humour in that. It was ironic. That Aaralyn was safe in death, when she fought so hard to preserve all life. Especially the life of The Jedi Order. “How are you keeping from getting bored? Are you keeping an eye on the kids and Gyndar?”

That almost made Kiskla’s stomach wrench in the corporeal world. She couldn’t imagine having to watch [member="Marcello Matteo"] from an intangible sense — being unable to reach out and touch him, speak with him or annoy him in real life.

 

[The End Narrator]

The mention of her children and Falcon caused Aaralyn to grimace and in turn the ground would appear to shake violently. Aaralyn appeared unphased by this but Kiskla would no doubt feel the Earth shifting beneath her feet. Her jaw clenched tightly as she turned away from her friend and sighed. “No, I have made no effort to speak to them or talk to them.” She shook her head. “Safety isn’t a concern, or atleast it never was a concern.” She stared at the darkened lines in the bark of the white tree. “It’s why I’m here isn’t it? I sacrificed my own safety for total strangers…” Again, a rumbling from deep within the core of the Netherworld caused another violent shaking. “The Republic betrayed me, took my breath away.” More shaking as memories came to, violent memories of her death. The mere thought of her death brought pain.

Aaralyn had not accepted her death as the end.

“I long to be amongst those I love again, which is why I’m still here.” The quaking would eventually subside and Aaralyn’s hand would again touch the tree. “But the cost would be more harmful than good, would it not?” She gestured over the lines, and slowly they would fade from existence, as if they had never happened in the first place.

[member="Kiskla Grayson"]

 

[Kiskla Grayson-Matteo]

Balancing with the quaking she’d caused, Kiskla stopped dead in her tracks.

..

Pardon the pun.

Her chest became heavy with the false air she was filling it with, a heavy blink to confirm that the reality of Aaralyn's words were true.

The Republic had caused this? They’d killed The Sword in action, doing what she had been charted and dedicated to do — protecting the innocent? She could feel the discomfort at the memory [member="Aaralyn Rekali"] suffered. The distress was evident in the echo of her reverberating voice. “What?” Kiskla mouthed, barely audible from the shock. Aaralyn had just delivered a blow of knowledge that Kiskla was finding it difficult to resist.

“The..Republic? What happened?” Kiskla had felt her friend die, that’s why she was here. But how, or why she had perished, she did not know. Someone had extinguished the candle’s flame and apparently it was a direct link to stealing the oxygen that fire needed to stay lit.

“I don’t know.” Kiskla answered truthfully. She’d done some dastardly things with The Force, using it as her tool to her will — most of it justifiable in the end — but to resurrect someone? It was selfish. A direct link to the darkside. Something Kiskla didn’t struggle with explicitly, she was resilient in her affiliation. The Force was The Force. She breathed a sigh of relief when the ground calmed, although it was no stress to her ethereal corpse. Kiskla’s silhouette glowed with the curiosity. “I’ve never done it.

The Sith do it all the time.

[member="Darth Vornskr"] did it. I killed him, but I can feel him alive again. Even in reality.” He had been tormenting her dreams in death, but she could feel him moving again - his life force returned. “The Sith shouldn’t be allowed all the pleasures of coming and going.

The cost isn’t calculated, so no one is to say if it’s more harmful than beneficial. Certainly not I.

Do you know a success story for a similar situation?”

 

[The End Narrator]

“The Sith are not us, Grayson.” She said bluntly.

She shrugged lightly. “That is because Kaine is alive Kiskla.” She gestured towards her old friend as she sat down at the base of the tree. “I was aiding the Mandalorians during the Invasion of Roche – simple really, I was there for humanitarian purposes.” She sighed softly and pulled some blades of violet grass. One by one, she threw them into the air as she spoke. “There was a young Mandalorian girl – lost in the chaos who I scooped up.” She continued to throw the blades of grass, the ground began to rumble softly. “Then the oxygen was sucked out of the vents – some were taken out into space but debris managed to make it where it was just a vacuum – an endless suffocation.” The ground began to rumble more and more with each passing moment.

“I remember taking off my mask and handing it to the child, I shoved many people beyond the great durasteel doors, of course I closed off the other end to save the Republic troopers from a similar fate but there were so many dead or dying around me – my choices were limited.” She stared off into space, the rumbling subsiding.

“Then I threw the girl before the doors sealed – she made it through but I didn’t have time to save myself.” She gestured to Kiskla. “Come closer…”

[member="Kiskla Grayson"]

 

[Kiskla Grayson-Matteo]

Kiskla's ethereal body tingled with a sensation that would mar her name in the history books forever. Physically, on Dathomir, her frame flinched. "They..."

The former Grandmaster's mind was a flutter with this information. The Republic versus The Mandalorians? Why? Why with threats like the Sith was The Republic pointing it's attention to a nation they had no direct qualms with? Kiskla had even connected with their former Mand'a'lor, Azrael, to ensure the longevity of their relationship in mutual existence.

The Republic had executed her best friend. [member="Aaralyn Rekali"]'s father was a Mandalorian. He must have been furious. Kiskla only knew the man through brief contact, exchanging capsules of blood to Ember Rekali for tracking down the imprisoned Jedi after Empress Teta and other invasions where Padawans and Masters alike were captured. If The Republic was looking for a catalyst to a swift ending, murdering a Jedi Master, a daughter to Clan Rekali, was the sure fire way to do it.

The rumbling ground appeared only to be affected by Aaralyn's emotions - otherwise, Kiskla's surely would have caused the violet blade covered surface to shake too. But she had no impact here. She was but a visitor, a welcomed voyeur to the beyond.

She realized she was grateful Aaralyn didn't pursue the talk of resurrection anymore. There was no question that Rekali was a Jedi; but she had a vengeance in her blood. She was the Sword because she protected and acted on what needed to be done. If pulled back to the galaxy now, she'd do what needed to be done to The Republic. And have to deal with that. Kiskla couldn't have that on her hands. There could be a more diplomatic way. Perhaps ties through the Mountain clans?

Then The Sword beckoned. As her guest, Kiskla obliged and edged nearer to the vision of the former.

 

[The End Narrator]

As Kiskla drew near, Aaralyn reached out and touched the ethereal face of the Redeemer.

And without warning, a surge of emotion would hit the mind of [member="Kiskla Grayson"].

Every memory of her life - everything felt through the forty years of living. From being a young child in the days of the Rebellion to the moment of her last breath. Being a Kiffar that Kiskla was, she would be naturally be prone to such things, given psychometry was one of those unique talents that they possessed. The knowledge of her life would be passed on to someone who she trusted, to someone who could do something good with it - perhaps. The experience would be painful, emotionally draining even. Who knew - it wasn't something that Aaralyn had done before, in fact she had done quite the opposite in the past. She had taken a Sithspawn and returned the man to somewhat a human state.

For Aaralyn, she wanted to return to the land of the living but for now she would wait - for the right time.

When the Republic was gone from the Galaxy, perhaps that would be best. Her thirst for vengeance was too great right now - maybe.

 

[Kiskla Grayson-Matteo]

Usually the touch of the dead was cold, and Kiskla assumed she'd feel as much on her temples when [member="Aaralyn Rekali"] reached out to her. But the truth was that she felt nothing. Aaralyn was as ghostly to feel as she was to exist in the netherworld. The pit of dis pair in her stomach didn't help when the vanquished Jedi pulled Kiskla into another world that was not her own; fully knowing the Kiffar's sensitivity to tracing.

Years unknown opened up, sprawling open like scrolls stained with wear and several hues of inks. Little bits of the papyrus crinkled and petered off, turning into richly painted canvas. Blood. There was more blood than delight. The time Aaralyn had spent frozen was dark, bleak, almost relatable to the time she'd spent under [member="Darth Isolda"]'s command. A blade under another's direction, rather than Grandmaster Grayson's. Small, tiny hands reached up to Aaralyn's eyes; welled with delight as the panel shifted to her husband-- a glow that was the happiest Kiskla felt through this roller coaster. Those hands grew to hold weapons, under the watchful eyes of their parents. Pride. Remorse. Kiskla was hardly an empath, but these were another's emotions being pushed down her throat; reaching to the back of her neck and pushing more and more information through her system.

Being split in quarters, torn by the emotions and the fact she was in a place for the dead, Kiskla took a celestial step backwards and gasped loudly. Her stomach shuddered and bubbled angrily, chest feeling hollow as her eyes filled in once more.

"The galaxy isn't ready for your resurrection yet." Kiskla murmured, the words like anvils on her tongue - not sure where they'd fall.

"What do you want me to do with what I've seen. What you've shown me."

 

[The End Narrator]

Aaralyn shrugged.

“Do what you must. For now, it’s time to learn.” She stood up from the base of the tree and gestured. “Just because this is the realm of spirits, doesn’t mean one cannot train nor one cannot teach.” She chuckled softly and moved away from the tree and out into the open grass. “One of the finer things I learned when I was alive was being able to penetrate the bowels of the mind – and break the barriers within.”

She turned and openly gestured to Kiskla. “If you recall what Shatterpoint is, consider this a mental version of Shatterpoint.” She closed her gestured and brought her arms up to her chest, folding them over one and another. Her right hand moved from beneath the left and she made a motion with her index finger, pointing at the violet sky above. “Let’s start with the basic application – first and foremost, we know that Shatterpoint finds a weakness within anything. It could be alive, dead, armor – doesn’t matter. These points are called, well shatterpoints but the lines connecting them are ley-lines.” She tucked her right hand away and nodded to Kiskla. “Simple enough, right?’

She shrugged lightly. “The process of finding ley-lines, well, heh – it sounds simple. It actually isn’t. However, when one does find a shatterpoint through a ley-line, what do you do?” Aaralyn dropped her arms and made a gesture before her, expanding the will of the Force around her to create a visual guide before her and Kiskla. “You expand it….”

[member="Kiskla Grayson"]

 

[Kiskla Grayson-Matteo]

Time to learn? Kiskla was doing a lot of learning these days. Since her venture to Dathomir, she’d been on a knowledge quest and it was a completely different level for her. Thus; she was open to [member="Aaralyn Rekali"]’s offering.

“Right.” The celestial head of the former Grandmaster bobbed. Kiskla was familiar with Shatterpoint — she’d used to to destroy the Force restricting chains that bound her in the Panathan dungeons.

“Making that mental pain point swell to the point it can no longer be sustained.”