Living On A Memory

[Teynara Jeralyr]

[member="Thédus Lorr"]

Ah, that innocent naivete remains still, Tirdarius noted in amusement. Jyn could spout the absurd notion that she was immune to corruption all she liked, but it would not make it true. She'd been tainted even before they had met, and that had only persisted. As so many did, her mistake was to imagine that the corruption of the Dark Side had to manifest overtly, and either provoke vicious rage or drive one to insanity. But the Force is insidious in ways you cannot imagine, girl.

Fear had taken hold of her early on, and had been that which he had first sensed in her, drawing his attention her way when he might otherwise have ignored her. It gnawed at her, crafted paranoia within her thoughts, even pushed her away from embracing the gifts her parents had granted her with the Force Sensitivity that was about all they had been able to offer their daughter. I wonder what they would have said had they known that such a thing would forever be something she viewed as a curse, something to hide from and even be bitter about. How disappointed would they be?

The anger she exhibited was something new, an emotion that the younger Jyn had little experience or understanding of - and, in truth, something she had always shied away from, fearing it. Anger is the path to the Dark Side, isn't it? She clearly had forgotten that, or perhaps no longer cared. The way she spoke clearly left her inclined to toy with things she might otherwise have sought to avoid. She courts my anger, fans the flames of her own, denies what sits in front of her because it scares her. Fear had always been her weakness, her taint, and it clearly remained as strong as it always had. Lashing out was merely another way of dealing with it.

So much that you have left to learn, girl. He had told her that the others would have sought to play with her emotions and draw her deeper into their circle that way, but the control he had expected her to establish as defense had clearly not arisen. Instead she submits to that fate inwardly, all the while resolving outwardly that she intends no such thing.

Something was clearly eating at her: the way her physique had changed so dramatically was indicative of that much. Impressive parlour trick, but little more than that, he decided. The flames that ran across darkening skin would no doubt terrify any person lacking experience with the Force, but he'd seen far more magnificent and atrocious performances from friends and enemies alike. Am I supposed to be intimidated by your anger, girl?, he wondered rhetorically. If so, she had clearly failed to learn much about him from their time together.

"You always had a choice, girl, but not the one that you wanted," he observed softly, not even bothering to remark on her transformation. Jyn had always had issues: why would this be any different? It was simply something she needed to learn to bring under her control. "You'd turn away from the obligations your power places upon you, but you abandon yourself in doing so," the Sith Lord continued, not caring if she found herself offended further. "Our gifts are not some random trick of genetics: they are a burden and a liberation equally placed upon us to ensure that we might offer others a taste of that freedom."

To be Sith was to be an evil oppressive force; to be a Jedi was to be a conservative do-gooder unwilling to do what was truly necessary to bring peace. Jyn had always been prejudiced against them both - ironic, perhaps, that he would find her in a Jedi Temple, of all places. And does that not prove that you lie? You seek to run from us both, and yet here you are... The girl had always feared to be caught up by either group, and yet, her destiny lay with them both. You do not need to be what we are, but you cannot remain indifferent. He knew that much for certain.

"You're a loose cannon, Jyn," Tirdarius noted, his tone growing slightly colder as he did so. "Some will seek you out to exploit the power you refuse, others will simply want you dead because of the threat you represent. Remaining above the fight does not mean that you will not be drawn into it: you can't truly escape it." He offered the slightest of shrugs, though it was wholly lacking his natural indifference. "Your reticence to grow into the woman you should have been harms us all: it removes one that might turn the tide, and it causes damage to those who would benefit from your protection and intervention."

This is what it came to now: she was past the point where she could make a choice by avoiding one. The power she was manifesting even in the change she presented, the anger that was racing around her consciousness, the fear that had consumed her and prompted so many of her actions: they had corrupted her more than she had imagined. A push in any direction might create a destructive force so potent that many would fall before she did. Or she might collapse inward, rid the Galaxy of an influence that might create the peace that Tirdarius had always aspired to see present. Either way, staying out of this will cause too much death.

"I don't offer you a choice, girl." No, that time has passed, hasn't it? "The Galaxy presents you with one nonetheless: Jedi, Sith, neutral, you cannot stay above this, and you cannot continue to ignore the gifts that you have. It is wasteful and wholly a crime. Against yourself, and against everyone around you." He ceased leaning against the wall and took a step towards her, standing firm in his posture and his stormy eyes dark with intent. "You've been placed on this path for a reason, as have I. It's time you decided what that reason is: to go forward, to go backward, or to end."

 

[Lief]

Far from a parlour trick. No that would suggest that it was under her control, that it was a choice, her doing. Every time the fire rose within her she felt another piece of her melt away, consumed by hatred toward all the bastards who had brought this on. Arthos was the main insidious fool, but there were others to blame too.

Including yourself, Jyn. Too weak, too reluctant... Too dead set on the Force holding no sway over you. And now it holds your future in both hands, your every waking moment reduced to stoicism or pain. Funny how that is, no? Ironic even. What you refused it forced upon you. So much for choice.

"Nobody ever asked me" she said, punctuating each word so that they stood out from each other. None more important than the other. "I was never given a choice, Tirdarius. Whether or not to have this gift. Whether or not to be taken in by the Jedi. Whether or not to have that dashed into nothingness alongside my memory of such events by the Tyrant of Panatha. Whether or not to be put into the Academy on Korriban..."

She bit her lip. One choice. She had made one choice. "You were the only person to ever ask. The only person to give me a chance at deciding for myself. That evening on Korriban when you found me... Stay or go." Her outburst was gone. Her anger simmered away.

She looked down at her feet feeling utterly rotten. Why had she taken this all out on him? He had not killed Fuz. He had not put this curse on her. He had given her the environment and the time and the resources to grow, yet even then she had forsaken all of this by ignoring her gift. By refusing the Force.

Ungrateful. You could have been so much more, Jyn... You could have grown into your own. Aided the Galaxy instead of hiding from it. Stopped the tyrants you so desperately hate. Fuz would still be alive. Your mind and body would remain in tact. Instead your selfishness has led you to this point...

"Forgive me, Master... I know now that you are right." Everything he had said stung, because it was the truth. She was reckless, out of control, spiraling ever down into a dangerous destiny that she could not foresee. And if she didn't get a hold on herself she would do far more harm than good. If another like Arthos grasped onto her who knew what they would achieve. Her mind whirled into action. A decision. He was right, a decision had to be made.

He stepped toward her and she could not help but press back again. Would he harm her? Force her into a decision? End her before she could make the wrong one? Her eyes closed tightly and she inhaled a breath. Would that be for best? Would she ever even out into something workable... Something worthwhile?

"Please..." she breathed, not daring to look up, "Help me..."

Two words she had never before spoken. A cry for help she had never once sought out, she had always tried to hold herself up even when failing miserably at the task. Perhaps it was a Seren gene, this unwillingness to ask for what was needed, but if she was going to make tracks she had to learn how to step outside of her comfort zone. The Force was something she didn't like, that worried her, scared her. But she was more of a danger not knowing how to control it than she would be if she tried.

"I don't want to be dangerous, Master. I don't want to risk losing control anymore than I already have."

 

[Teynara Jeralyr]

[member="Thédus Lorr"]

Melodrama had always been Jyn's weapon of choice, as he recalled, and she displayed that for him now much as she had done in times past: asserting herself the victim of circumstances. That was always your failure, girl, Tirdarius noted inwardly. You never could own what happened to you. Small wonder that she felt so out of control, subject to forces that were too large for her to comprehend or put a stop to. But did I not tell you that the first step to dealing with a manipulation was to recognise that it has no power over you but that which you choose to give?

In some respects, the girl reminded the Sith Lord of himself, though at a younger age than she was now. He'd been a fresh-faced Padawan, thrown into battle by the arrival of a Sith fleet on a world that hadn't expected one, engaged in a battle he could not win - and yet had somehow survived. Alive, taken, thrown onto the mercy of the Sith, knowing they had none to offer. Oh, yes, I'd raged about how unfair it was, too. His Master had turned that against him, as she had a right to, and shown him that his own emotions could be as much a weapon as a vulnerability.

Silencia had offered him a very different choice to that which he had offered Jyn, of course: become useful, or die. She'd had no time to waste on a student who refused to learn, and had encouraged him to recognise that in rapid fashion. What did I do, but give Jyn the choice of her own path? I showed her the freedom she felt lacking in. Perhaps that had been his mistake: clearly she did not know what to do with that gift.

"All of us are dangerous, Jyn," he said, no hint of sympathy present in his voice. "The Force will use us whether we wish it to or not: thus, our choice always comes down to whether or not we wish to swim with the tide, or allow it to sweep us along unwillingly, screaming as we do so." He'd known that tidal wave, and been torn between that same choice. What the boy he had been had never realised was that being carried along by the waves did not make one helpless. "So many who lack your gifts would desire them, if they could," Tirdarius noted calmly. "You've always had the ability to choose your own destiny, when so many others are simply stuck with theirs."

That wasn't entirely true, and he knew this even as he spoke the words, but Tirdarius had long ago given up on the idea of persuading his former student that destiny was a simple concept. Indeed, to his mind, it was a lie: a convenient way of encouraging people to walk on the path that was right in front of them. But choices are not something she ever did well with, he reflected, referring once more to Jyn within his own mind. Perhaps it is simply because she fears to fail if she chooses her own course, and so she chooses none at all.

"How would you have me help you?", he asked her in earnest, a slightly raised eyebrow his usual indicator of inquisitive curiousity. "To take you away from this place, as I once took you from Korriban? To try and teach you the powers you have at your grasp, even though you hate and fear them? Or do I simply walk away, and allow you to find your own path once again?" He shook his head, a soft sigh emerging from his lips. "We both know that you have always feared to embrace who you are. How, then, can I be of help to you?"

 

[Lief]

"I don't want to fear it anymore."

Deep down Jyn realized that this had been the crux of all her anguish, every step of the way she had fought against the Force and those who wielded it. From the Sith of the Academy, to Tirdarius himself, to Krius the crazy monkey-murderer... It was her doing, ultimately. The understanding settled within the pit of her stomach, a knot which refused to untie itself.

Things may have been different, even before the Sith, had she asserted herself more. Focused enough to learn to control, to harness, as opposed to resisting. For the longest time, since she had been stranded on Teth, she had thought that meant the end of the road for her. She would remain in this weird state of limbo, where she knew too much and could do so little.

Arthos' actions had broken through more than anyone else, it had struck her so deeply that even he had been mortified by the result. Torn open, for the world to see, forcing her to embrace the reality of her situation. The core of her being. That or burn away like a star, in a brilliant flash of light and seering pain.

He was right, of course, though Jyn knew not the internal monologue he was facing. It was a fear that went further than simply the Force, especially where Tirdarius was concerned, she did not wish to disappoint. She did not wish to try and fail.

She looked away from him, the cool wall soothing skin which still burned beneath the surface, and sighed.

What must he think of her, this lost cause that somehow seemed to fall at his feet every time he turned a corner in his own life? She who had never progressed any further than the day he first picked her up beneath the sandstone obelisks of Korriban?

"I'm tired of fighting it, and I know that it will not stop until the Force claims me through choice, or death."

Choice.

She clenched her fists to stall the fidgeting and exhaled a long breath. She did not expect anything from him, how could she? He had given her so much already, insight that she had taken onboard, and yet somehow she remained walking in the same circle. Through the same loop.

"It has been so long that I do not even know where to begin. I have rejected it for so long that now drawing on it feels alien. I'm standing in the way of my own path. And maybe this isn't something I can expect anyone else to help with. I don't wish to go on running, there's nothing for me out there."

I burned all of my bridges. How foolish I have been, wherever I walk anarchy ensues. No longer.

She steeled her expression, allowed her hands to relax, and took one small step away from the wall. The loss of its cooling touch was a small price to pay.

[member="Tirdarius"]