Administrator
Location: Ryloth [Sinner’s Well]
Tag: Darth Empyrean
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He smiled. She did not.
Srina was not displeased to see him. Her range of emotion simply wasn’t as wide as it was for some people, especially, those that had the capacity for it. It was a luxury she did not have. An over-abundance of sentiment bred a string of weakness that placed everything in jeopardy. The more she expressed care, the more she affection existed, the more she had to lose. The more her enemies would use it against her. The more they would take it away.
The slender creature took note of changes from over her shoulder. Not only to his appearance but, to the steady countenance. He was more prepared this time. Ready, for the displacement. “It should matter. You must take care of the self, first, before overextending.”, she deflected, almost artfully, while he made his approach. He wanted to share in her burdens? It was a mistake.
A mistake the placed him in danger. How could he know the true depths of it from so far away? His scope was from that of a bird, flying high, where things appeared peaceful in the world below. Srina existed in the thick of it. It the deepest, darkest places.
He had not seen. To know, he would need to see.
Srina could taste the essence of his being. Even this far, diluted, there was a sense of comforting humanity. He differed from most Sith she had come to know in that manner. There had been no games, this far, no grandstanding. There was no clout of power nor had she been made to feel as if she were less than what she was. An apprentice by name, but, her gifts stepped well beyond that. They always had. In the eyes of her Master—It kept her safe. To accost her; meant accosting him.
The Darkside moved in her. It was nearly visible in the mid-day light that the habitation sphere provided. The Force had remade her. Twisted her. Until a soft beauty, other-worldly and pristine, became a dangerous exquisiteness of which there was no equal. At least, not on this planet.
She would have been surprised to know that he cared enough to engage in significant cultural practices of her people. Most people didn’t. Typically, they expected her to adapt. When he moved to brush her hair behind her ear she barely breathed. Pools of molten silver flickered down, briefly, but that didn’t stop the invisible breath of power that rolled seductively along alabaster skin. He let the touch ebb, though, he didn’t completely break it. Trust. Familiarity. A willingness to connect. No, a desire to connect. “It speaks. It screams. It shatters everything until I am deaf, blind, and sleepless.”
Eshan replayed in her mind. Over, and over. She could see flame raining down on a new world. It would never know they were coming, save, for the fire that filled the sky. Maliphant continued to speak and the young woman worked on her breathing in the meantime, slowly, regulating her biorhythms to normalcy. “I’ve always seen more than I should. More, even, than an Echani.”
Their eyes were so honed for the smallest of movements that she could typically anticipate how her opponent would move, even, when their conscious mind hadn’t made the commitment. He made mention that she did not have to face what was to come on her own and he head slowly nodded in the affirmative. She knew, technically speaking, that she had the entirety of the Confederacy. She had her Master. He cared for her despite all things. Somehow, however, she still felt adrift. As if something was pulling her deliberately apart at the seams. His lips curved into another smile when he offered to stand tall with her. To bear the weight of the future. Silver orbs flickered, following the hard lines of his face, matching them with softer planes and the subtle curve of his eyes. “If I take of your strength…What will be left for you? Why would you want to give that to me?”
Her arms remained crossed, though, she didn’t exactly seem unfriendly. The small creature seemed to have closed her heart, quieted her mind, out of necessity. To protect what was left. The vulnerability that she had expressed in the Nightlands was dangerous. In the wrong hands, it could do harm. He could choose to cut her to ribbons, bleed her, and exploit the chink in her armor. He could do many things with what he knew and it all ended with placing a nation in peril.
Still. There was a little whisper in the back of her mind that told her to look beyond the common and vulgar practices of politics. Srina could feel more in him, in the seconds his arms wrapped around her, than she had gleaned from any conversation she had ever had with the Slave. It didn’t feel like a lie.
“I no longer know who to trust, Maliphant.”
It was not the name he had specifically requested, but, it was a name that was his. It would do. Her words, though soft, held an icy edge. Srina never brought her tones above what would be considered polite but that didn’t mean she couldn’t still a room with a whisper. She could feel the will, the want, to trust him. A need to feel close, again.
To feel as if it weren’t wrong to do so. Wrong, with the cruelest of consequences.