Not much was said on their journey. Not between the young man, or his mysterious saviour. This Skygge.
He couldn’t think about this impossible ship he was in, amongst the stars. He couldn’t think of these miracles that would confound the greatest minds of his small world. He couldn’t think about how much more vast and marvellous the Galaxy was. He couldn’t think about the clear substance that healed his wounds at a rate some would call miraculous.
No.
All he could think of was the knife wound in his back. Of his family’s home in flames. The blood. It was a horribly sickening feeling now that the adrenaline was out of his system. Irtar shuddered, like he was caught out in a cold rain with no cloak, a deep cold feeling like it was sinking into his bones. The flames of his hate made the cold terror of regret bite so deep he didn’t know why he was even still alive.
He had loved her. His Amara. She had meant the world to him. He would have defied all convention to be with her. But in the end, she had tried to kill him. She had tried to kill him for the same crimes the villagers had accused him of. She had tried to kill him for saving her from that brute she had called a father.
Shakily, Irtar raised his hands to his eyes and thought of the feeling as he had reached out from the aether and crushed his throat like it had been made of stale bread. He remembered the feel of the blood of those peasants that the preacher had brought down upon his house. He lowered them staring out in the distance, unsure of what to do. His life as he knew it was over. For all intents and purposes, Irtar Mal’Gro had died in those woods. Whatever sat here in this star ship was an entirely different man.
“You will adjust. You have taken an important first step.” Skygge said from the controls, answering Irtar’s unspoken thoughts and fears like he was speaking them aloud.
“But... Those people...” Irtar muttered almost incoherently, his mouth feeling like it was full of shale.
“Meant to kill you. They were simple, ignorant, and murderous.” Skygge pointed out, turning to face the young man with a pointed expression. “But in many ways, so are you, Irtar Mal’Gro. Millenia behind. Unsure of everything that has to do with you and this Galaxy.”
Irtar blustered a bit at being called ignorant, and a bit more at being compared to those peasants. The heat knocked back some of the cold, and his limbs stopped shaking quite so much. He thought of a quick retort, but realized he would just seem like a fool.
“I AM ignorant.” Irtar conceded, motioning around the cockpit and all the technology around them he didn’t even have the slightest idea of how to operate. “But not wilfully so. Not like them! Not like them that relished in their inane ways!”
“And yet you’ve sat here, silently licking your wounds. Not once seizing upon a chance to ask about any of this that I have not told you.” Skygge accused the young man, who was taken a bit aback about how brazen she was. “Did you even hear anything I told you in between your bouts of self-loathing?”
Irtar’s gaze darkened slightly. Had he been rescued simply to be insulted and berated for simply being Human? Most would be dead from the tragedy he had suffered, and here she was berating him for not handling it better. He was about to snap a retort before she cut him off.
“Spare me excuses. I only care about results.” Skygge said, pointing a finger accusingly at the young man. “Self-pity will only get yourself killed. And I will not waste any more of my time on a corpse. Do I make myself clear?”
“If I am so damned worthless, what do you care?” Irtar snapped at Skygge, his rage brought back to the surface. Flaring at this taunting woman.
“Ah, he finally asks a questions.” Skygge replied with a thin, mocking smile. She got out of her chair, and began to stalk the deck in front of Irtar. She practically loomed over the young man, as he remained in his seat.
“Because you are strong in the Force. Stronger than many. But raw.” She leaned in, staring Irtar dead in the eye. “Unfocused and undisciplined.”
“The Force?” Irtar asked, unfamiliar with the term or the concept. He knew of force as an element of physics, but those were generally just A force, and not THE Force.
“Did your little world truly know so little?” Skygge scowled, backing off and resuming her pacing. Lecturing the young man as if he was a child asking why the sky was the colour it was. “Yes. The Force. In the Galaxy, all things are bound together through an invisible and intangible element that most simply call ‘The Force’. It touches all things.”
“Every man, woman, and child. Every animal. Every plant. Every rock. Every planet. It is all encompassing and all consuming.” She said, turning her hands upwards and outward as if to emphasize the sheer scale and might of it.
“That sounds ridiculous.” Irtar replied off hand with a frown. It sounded the same as the priests would carry on about. Some unseeable and unknowable thing beyond comprehension yet everyone claimed to know the answer on.
“And yet you used it to kill that man.” Skygge replied with a bit of smug satisfaction in her tone as she derailed Irtar’s train of thought.
“That was the Force?” Irtar asked, bewildered by this mystic Force and how it operated. This thing that somehow existed everywhere and that he somehow had the ability to manipulate and to will from Force to force.
“Yes. And an impressive application for someone who has no knowledge it even exists.” Touché, he thought, as the local priest had never fed a village through the power of prayer.
“But how...” Irtar asked, trying to figure out how it was that he was able to manipulate the Force, a thing he didn’t even know of. He was certainly not the only man to ever wish someone else dead.
“Not all have sensitivity to the Force. And even those that do, do not feel it at the same intensity. Some spend years of training just to be able to move a pebble. Some can naturally tap into it and can move a building. But to truly master the Force it requires training. Discipline.” Skygge preached as Irtar watched on. Watching careful, attempting to read the woman’s body language and how she conveyed her words. “There are some with knowledge of how to apply the Force. To use it as a tool for all sorts of ends. It can guide one and keep one safe in a pitched battle. It can help one unfold mysteries that confound and complex the greatest philosophers.”
“It can crush throats.” Irtar added, almost sarcastically, but being rather factual in its absurdity.
“Yes, and it can crush throats.” Skygge conceded, with a smile as dark as the void and as thin as a razor. “But you must learn to focus in order to harness the energy of the universe around you. You must learn to visualize in your mind what you wish, then will that upon reality.”
“And your plan is to teach me how to do this?” Irtar asked, leaning back in his seat with a careful expression on his face.
Skygge laughed. “No. No. I have more important things to do than teach an Apprentice as green as you.”
“Then how will I learn?” Irtar was almost exasperated at this point, hoping she would just get to the point of what it is that she wanted. Why it is she saved him from being skewered by a fervent mob.
“I have an... academy of sorts where some of my more promising initiates teach.” Skygge revealed, her eyes locking on to his, as if trying to bore into his soul. It was unsettling, but Irtar met the gaze and held it.
“And what would they teach me? Just to use this Force? I still have an entire Galaxy to learn.” Irtar asked, as he kept her gaze. It was a real concern. Mysticism wouldn’t help him survive a Galaxy of shape ships and blasters where the most he could do was ride a horse and fire a crossbow.
“Strength. Success. Resilience. How to live at your maximum potential.” Skygge answered, moving in closer. Standing now directly over the young man, he presence seemed to take up the entire cockpit.
“And should I fail?” Irtar asked, hesitantly, despite that welling feeling at the back of his mind where her eyes had been digging. The other question he couldn’t contain and slipped past his lips almost as a whisper. “Or decline?”
With a flash of light cut through the shadow of her presence, and Irtar felt the heat of it against his neck. From a small metal cylinder, a blade of crimson fire sprung. Not even so much the heat, but the smell as if the air itself was burning and crackling struck him. The blade illuminated her face, which looked like one of the reaper of death.
“I will put you back in those woods in worse shape than I found you.” Skygge growled, her eyes reflecting the fire of her blade. Irtar would’ve slunk down if not for the blade being so precariously close to his flesh.
“...When do we begin?” Irtar conceded, hesitantly. He was thankful for the rescue, but he didn’t like the feeling of being strong armed into a philosophy. He didn’t like the idea of losing control. But apparently, for his saviour, this was enough. With a click and a whirring noise, the blade vanished. Skygge seemed to be as she was before. The rest of the cockpit came back into focus.
“We’ll be entering the system in ten minutes.” She said, as if nothing had happened, and sat at the helm and began to do preparation work for their approach. Irtar began to do preparation for whatever it was that Skygge had in store for him next.
He couldn’t think about this impossible ship he was in, amongst the stars. He couldn’t think of these miracles that would confound the greatest minds of his small world. He couldn’t think about how much more vast and marvellous the Galaxy was. He couldn’t think about the clear substance that healed his wounds at a rate some would call miraculous.
No.
All he could think of was the knife wound in his back. Of his family’s home in flames. The blood. It was a horribly sickening feeling now that the adrenaline was out of his system. Irtar shuddered, like he was caught out in a cold rain with no cloak, a deep cold feeling like it was sinking into his bones. The flames of his hate made the cold terror of regret bite so deep he didn’t know why he was even still alive.
He had loved her. His Amara. She had meant the world to him. He would have defied all convention to be with her. But in the end, she had tried to kill him. She had tried to kill him for the same crimes the villagers had accused him of. She had tried to kill him for saving her from that brute she had called a father.
Shakily, Irtar raised his hands to his eyes and thought of the feeling as he had reached out from the aether and crushed his throat like it had been made of stale bread. He remembered the feel of the blood of those peasants that the preacher had brought down upon his house. He lowered them staring out in the distance, unsure of what to do. His life as he knew it was over. For all intents and purposes, Irtar Mal’Gro had died in those woods. Whatever sat here in this star ship was an entirely different man.
“You will adjust. You have taken an important first step.” Skygge said from the controls, answering Irtar’s unspoken thoughts and fears like he was speaking them aloud.
“But... Those people...” Irtar muttered almost incoherently, his mouth feeling like it was full of shale.
“Meant to kill you. They were simple, ignorant, and murderous.” Skygge pointed out, turning to face the young man with a pointed expression. “But in many ways, so are you, Irtar Mal’Gro. Millenia behind. Unsure of everything that has to do with you and this Galaxy.”
Irtar blustered a bit at being called ignorant, and a bit more at being compared to those peasants. The heat knocked back some of the cold, and his limbs stopped shaking quite so much. He thought of a quick retort, but realized he would just seem like a fool.
“I AM ignorant.” Irtar conceded, motioning around the cockpit and all the technology around them he didn’t even have the slightest idea of how to operate. “But not wilfully so. Not like them! Not like them that relished in their inane ways!”
“And yet you’ve sat here, silently licking your wounds. Not once seizing upon a chance to ask about any of this that I have not told you.” Skygge accused the young man, who was taken a bit aback about how brazen she was. “Did you even hear anything I told you in between your bouts of self-loathing?”
Irtar’s gaze darkened slightly. Had he been rescued simply to be insulted and berated for simply being Human? Most would be dead from the tragedy he had suffered, and here she was berating him for not handling it better. He was about to snap a retort before she cut him off.
“Spare me excuses. I only care about results.” Skygge said, pointing a finger accusingly at the young man. “Self-pity will only get yourself killed. And I will not waste any more of my time on a corpse. Do I make myself clear?”
“If I am so damned worthless, what do you care?” Irtar snapped at Skygge, his rage brought back to the surface. Flaring at this taunting woman.
“Ah, he finally asks a questions.” Skygge replied with a thin, mocking smile. She got out of her chair, and began to stalk the deck in front of Irtar. She practically loomed over the young man, as he remained in his seat.
“Because you are strong in the Force. Stronger than many. But raw.” She leaned in, staring Irtar dead in the eye. “Unfocused and undisciplined.”
“The Force?” Irtar asked, unfamiliar with the term or the concept. He knew of force as an element of physics, but those were generally just A force, and not THE Force.
“Did your little world truly know so little?” Skygge scowled, backing off and resuming her pacing. Lecturing the young man as if he was a child asking why the sky was the colour it was. “Yes. The Force. In the Galaxy, all things are bound together through an invisible and intangible element that most simply call ‘The Force’. It touches all things.”
“Every man, woman, and child. Every animal. Every plant. Every rock. Every planet. It is all encompassing and all consuming.” She said, turning her hands upwards and outward as if to emphasize the sheer scale and might of it.
“That sounds ridiculous.” Irtar replied off hand with a frown. It sounded the same as the priests would carry on about. Some unseeable and unknowable thing beyond comprehension yet everyone claimed to know the answer on.
“And yet you used it to kill that man.” Skygge replied with a bit of smug satisfaction in her tone as she derailed Irtar’s train of thought.
“That was the Force?” Irtar asked, bewildered by this mystic Force and how it operated. This thing that somehow existed everywhere and that he somehow had the ability to manipulate and to will from Force to force.
“Yes. And an impressive application for someone who has no knowledge it even exists.” Touché, he thought, as the local priest had never fed a village through the power of prayer.
“But how...” Irtar asked, trying to figure out how it was that he was able to manipulate the Force, a thing he didn’t even know of. He was certainly not the only man to ever wish someone else dead.
“Not all have sensitivity to the Force. And even those that do, do not feel it at the same intensity. Some spend years of training just to be able to move a pebble. Some can naturally tap into it and can move a building. But to truly master the Force it requires training. Discipline.” Skygge preached as Irtar watched on. Watching careful, attempting to read the woman’s body language and how she conveyed her words. “There are some with knowledge of how to apply the Force. To use it as a tool for all sorts of ends. It can guide one and keep one safe in a pitched battle. It can help one unfold mysteries that confound and complex the greatest philosophers.”
“It can crush throats.” Irtar added, almost sarcastically, but being rather factual in its absurdity.
“Yes, and it can crush throats.” Skygge conceded, with a smile as dark as the void and as thin as a razor. “But you must learn to focus in order to harness the energy of the universe around you. You must learn to visualize in your mind what you wish, then will that upon reality.”
“And your plan is to teach me how to do this?” Irtar asked, leaning back in his seat with a careful expression on his face.
Skygge laughed. “No. No. I have more important things to do than teach an Apprentice as green as you.”
“Then how will I learn?” Irtar was almost exasperated at this point, hoping she would just get to the point of what it is that she wanted. Why it is she saved him from being skewered by a fervent mob.
“I have an... academy of sorts where some of my more promising initiates teach.” Skygge revealed, her eyes locking on to his, as if trying to bore into his soul. It was unsettling, but Irtar met the gaze and held it.
“And what would they teach me? Just to use this Force? I still have an entire Galaxy to learn.” Irtar asked, as he kept her gaze. It was a real concern. Mysticism wouldn’t help him survive a Galaxy of shape ships and blasters where the most he could do was ride a horse and fire a crossbow.
“Strength. Success. Resilience. How to live at your maximum potential.” Skygge answered, moving in closer. Standing now directly over the young man, he presence seemed to take up the entire cockpit.
“And should I fail?” Irtar asked, hesitantly, despite that welling feeling at the back of his mind where her eyes had been digging. The other question he couldn’t contain and slipped past his lips almost as a whisper. “Or decline?”
With a flash of light cut through the shadow of her presence, and Irtar felt the heat of it against his neck. From a small metal cylinder, a blade of crimson fire sprung. Not even so much the heat, but the smell as if the air itself was burning and crackling struck him. The blade illuminated her face, which looked like one of the reaper of death.
“I will put you back in those woods in worse shape than I found you.” Skygge growled, her eyes reflecting the fire of her blade. Irtar would’ve slunk down if not for the blade being so precariously close to his flesh.
“...When do we begin?” Irtar conceded, hesitantly. He was thankful for the rescue, but he didn’t like the feeling of being strong armed into a philosophy. He didn’t like the idea of losing control. But apparently, for his saviour, this was enough. With a click and a whirring noise, the blade vanished. Skygge seemed to be as she was before. The rest of the cockpit came back into focus.
“We’ll be entering the system in ten minutes.” She said, as if nothing had happened, and sat at the helm and began to do preparation work for their approach. Irtar began to do preparation for whatever it was that Skygge had in store for him next.
