Private Revision.

[Serina Calis]

Location: Coruscant, Jedi Temple
Tag: Everest Vale ​

The Jedi Temple loomed above Coruscant, its spires piercing the city's endless skyline. The glow of speeders and holo-signs cast shifting patterns of gold and blue against its pale stone, the great monolith of the Order standing resolute against the night. But to Serina Calis, it was nothing more than an old haunt—one she had left in ruins, only to return now, a ghost in the halls of her childhood.

Slipping through the lower corridors was effortless. She had done this too many times before, when she had been a Padawan sneaking past curfew to study forbidden texts, when she had first stolen away to meet with the other nine in secret chambers beneath the Temple. The Jedi thought in absolutes—security meant protecting from intrusions, from external threats. They never accounted for one of their own turning against them so thoroughly, and even in death, Serina had not truly left.

Her boots made no sound against the polished floors as she moved through the maintenance accessways, places she had memorized long before she had ever considered betraying the Order. This was her home once. It had shaped her, tried to control her, and when she had broken free, they had sought to end her for it. Grandmaster Noble had succeeded. And yet, here she was.

She passed through the shadowed corridors of the archives, the faint hum of data terminals and the distant murmur of Jedi speaking softly to one another filling the air. None of them knew. None of them had any idea she was here, walking unseen among them. She lingered for a moment by one of the great archive doors, feeling the presence of the knowledge within—so much of it locked away, hidden from those deemed unworthy. She could take it all. She could burn it. But there were more pressing matters.

Her path took her through the dormitory levels, where the soft glow of meditation lamps lit the doors of Jedi in their quiet contemplation. The faint, rhythmic sound of breathing drifted from the rooms. Some were asleep, others in deep thought, unaware of the serpent moving through their midst.

Then, she was there.

The door to her old quarters stood before her, unchanged, as if she had never left. As if the girl who had once lived here still existed. For the briefest moment, she hesitated, fingers hovering over the panel. It would be easy to enter. Too easy. She had lost count of how many times she had come back, unseen, undetected, slipping through the cracks of a place that had never truly rid itself of her presence.

She exhaled, steadying herself.

Then, she reached for the door.

 

[Everest Vale]

A stillness hung in the air. It was nourishing. In a soft meditation, Everest sat within the small chamber of her dormitory. Eyes closed, cross-legged on the floor, she delightfully played within the vacuum of light that had encased her, providing a familiar clarity to her awareness. The last month had been difficult, and finally returning to her practice like this gave Eve a much needed sense of wellbeing. Slowly, she was healing, growing, taking measured steps towards her true self; a journey steeped in light.

Within that soft, luminous, sphere-like space that held her gently, like a mother would their young, Eve found herself reflecting on everything in her life. She had so rapidly changed in ways she didn't imagine. Master Noble's face appeared before her. Eve had solidified to herself, and others, that she was truly a member of the New Jedi Order, and her Master was largely responsible for that, seeing to it that she finally felt comfortable in her own skin. She was so eternally grateful to her, and words could never articulate to its fullest extent.

Then came the face of her mother. For the longest time, Eve had been beating herself up over the idea that she was disappointing her. But every time she got a letter from her, it reminded Eve how much she had her corner, and how much effortless, unconditional love she was always sending to her, just as she was to her mother. It made he smile.

Finally, her vision of her inner eyes brought before her the image of herself. There she stood, warm and smiling, friend to animals, friend to plants, giver of compassion. She had struggled so much with her own self-identified image, but as she deepened into her training, embraced the love she had been given by so many people, and above all found that capacity for peace residing naturally within herself, she was finally starting to feel... happy.

She let a gentle smile come to her with the satisfaction of this realisation, and a soft sigh escaped her, whilst she dwelled a little longer on the idea of who she was and where she was going.

But then something stirred.

It was closer to her than she at first realised, and her eyes shot open in prompt surprise. There was a presence at first, a silhouette refraction against the otherwise quietude, like the mouth of a fish coming up to the surface of an otherwise still lake. Then it was something more direct and obvious, as there came the sound of an entry terminal blaring in error to... somebody. Something trying to get inside.

Immediately, Eve stood, controlled and calm. Whoever it was, she was sure it just a misunderstanding. A Padawan sneaking back from the club district after a few too many Blue Ruusans and forgetting which was their room. She didn't wait any longer, either way, and with a quick tap of the inside terminal, the door slid open with a gentle hiss.

A young woman stood there, about her own age. Another Padawan. Maybe she was more accurate with her guess than she realised. Eve looked sheepishly to her and gave a shy smile.
"Um— S-sorry, can I help you? I'm afraid you're at the wrong dorm."

Serina Calis​

 

[Serina Calis]

Location: Coruscant, Jedi Temple
Tag: Everest Vale ​

Serina tilted her head, a slow, knowing smile spreading across her lips as her icy blue eyes flicked over the young woman before her. Her posture was casual, leaning just slightly against the doorframe, one hand resting lightly on her hip. The dim corridor lights behind her cast a subtle glow along the edges of her form, accentuating the almost unnatural smoothness of her movements. She took a measured step forward, just enough to slip inside the threshold of the door without actually entering.

"Oh, am I?" she asked, her voice carrying a warm amusement, the kind that suggested she knew something the other didn't. "Funny, I could have sworn this was my old room."

Her eyes lingered on Everest's, holding her gaze with an intensity that felt both inviting and vaguely unsettling. Serina let the moment stretch, drinking in the reaction she got before letting a soft chuckle slip past her lips.

"No need to look so startled," she continued, brushing a lock of golden hair behind her ear with a deliberate slowness. "I didn't mean to interrupt your meditation—I could feel it from the hall. You're quite good, you know. The way the light folds around you… serene, yet bright. Like a star trying to shine a little stronger than it did yesterday." She smiled again, this time with something softer, something almost reassuring. Almost.

She finally took a step back, allowing Everest a little more space, but not enough to truly feel at ease. "I was just taking a walk through the dorms, reminiscing. I used to live here, once." A wistful sigh, a perfectly placed note of nostalgia. "I suppose I was hoping to see if anything still felt the same."

Her gaze flicked to the room behind Everest, curiosity playing across her face. "And now I find you here instead. A pleasant surprise." There was something in her tone—an openness, an unspoken suggestion, a quiet invitation to step just a little closer, to ask just a little more.

"I imagine you must be new," she added, her voice dropping slightly, taking on a softer, more intimate cadence. "I would've remembered you."

 

[Everest Vale]

She felt... strange. Eve felt immediately on edge from the encounter, her senses humming with the subtle inclinations of alarm, but she couldn't quite figure out why. The woman seemed normal enough. She was about her own age, pretty, confident, but something about her felt off. There was an uncomfortable almost derisive undertone to the way she spoke to her, but Eve struggled to recognise it as such. She said she used to live here, and in this very dorm?

"O-oh! So you're a Knight now? Congratulations!" Her eyes brightened a little as she asked, her one genuinely sincere and honest. It was exciting to Eve that she would get the opportunity to meet the very Jedi Knight who had once lived where she did during her own Padawanship. The thought filled her with a sense of excitement. But again, the woman's tone and manner pulled her into a head space something entirely new that she couldn't put her finger on. She only knew that there was an strange sense of silent pressure on her, and she found herself shy again.

"Y-yeah," she said simply. "It's been a couple months. It's uh— It's been difficult fitting in, but Master Noble has been so kind to me. She even took me on as her own Padawan. She's so lovely..." The thought of Master Noble gave her confidence no matter the situation, and she allowed a shy smile to come to her.

Serina Calis​

 

[Serina Calis]

Location: Coruscant, Jedi Temple
Tag: Everest Vale ​

Serina let out a breathy, almost indulgent laugh, tilting her head just slightly as if Eve had said something precious. The innocence, the earnestness—it was almost intoxicating. She had played many games, told many lies, slipped through the cracks of countless hearts and minds, but there was something uniquely delicious about this. The gentle dance of deception, the weaving of sweet, silken words into something that felt like truth.

She stepped closer again, not enough to crowd, but just enough to make her presence felt, the warmth of her body lingering between them like the trailing edge of a whispered secret. "A Knight?" she repeated, the word almost tasting foreign in her mouth, rolling it across her tongue like it was a fine wine. "Mmm… not quite." She smiled, slow and knowing, her gaze dipping just slightly before lifting again. "But I like that you think so."

Her fingers drifted along the edge of the doorframe, tracing it absently, as if it might somehow whisper memories of her past life back to her. "You must be very special if Master Noble chose you," she mused, her voice honeyed with admiration, yet carrying the softest undertone of something more indulgent, something warmer. "She doesn't take just anyone, does she?"

She watched as Eve straightened a little, speaking of her Master with such sincerity, such love. That kind of devotion, that childlike belief in the goodness of another—it was an art piece waiting to be ruined, a perfectly smooth surface waiting for her to run her fingers across and leave just the faintest smudge of doubt. But not now. Not yet. No, this had to be slow. Gentle.

Serina reached out, not touching, but close—just close enough that if Eve moved even an inch, her fingers would brush against the back of her hand. "You remind me of myself," she said softly, her voice dipping into something more intimate, more velvety in its careful inflection. "When I first came here, I was like you—nervous, unsure. Trying so hard to fit into something that already had its shape, already had its rules. And yet… there was always something inside me that whispered." She let the words linger, hanging like a breath caught between them.

Her gaze lowered, taking her in—not just in the way that someone appraised another, but in the way one appreciated beauty, in the way one indulged in the sight of something pure. "You really are lovely," she murmured, her lips curving just slightly as she let her fingers finally ghost along the fabric of Eve's sleeve, the touch featherlight, as if testing a boundary she already knew she would eventually break. "I wonder if you see it. I wonder if you know what others see when they look at you."

She let out a soft hum, almost as if savouring the moment, before she gave a slow, knowing smile, one that hinted at a secret she was willing to share if only Eve asked the right question. "Do you mind if I come in?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper, an invitation wrapped in the pretense of something innocent. "Just for a moment. I'd love to see how the room has changed."

She wasn't lying. She would love to see it. But more than that, she wanted to step inside, to breathe in the air of this girl's world, to leave the faintest trace of herself within it. To see just how easily Eve would let her in.

 

[Everest Vale]

Eve felt out of sorts, not really knowing how to react to what was happening. Her heart beat at an unusual pace as the stranger invaded her space to an uncomfortable degree, as a rising sense of panic swelled at the base of her being. Something felt wrong, but she couldn't place what. The woman's smile was bright and warm, but it didn't seem to reach her eyes. There was something else there that made her uneasy, but the confidence she held — standing within that door frame so casually — made any desire to escape melt under the looming pressure. She spoke with such strange words...

Her delicate touch against her robe sent a shiver along her spine, the intimate connection entirely alien to her, and a barely audible gasp escaped her. She was so strangely compelling, yet something about her made Eve feel so strangely violated, and her stomach churned a little. She pulled away timidly, silently, taking a single step back to protect herself. Her wide eyes — not so long ago gentle and rested — had now dilated into a silent, restrained panic that started to very slowly take grip her. Who was this woman, and what she did want with her?

"Do you mind if I come in? Just for a moment. I'd love to see how the room has changed."

Finally, she asked the question Eve was begging she would not, knowing full well that she would be incapable of refusing should she do so. The way she stood there — looming in the doorway like a ghost who had already made its decision to haunt, and was merely biding its time to do so — made it impossible for her to whisper anything else than a timid "Yes..."

She stepped back again, watching her guest carefully through timid eyes, like a young deer startled by the mere thought of a predator in the wilderness, waiting for its chance to sink its teeth into her. Yet to Eve, she couldn't fully comprehend such complex feelings that swam about her mind. It was as if a strange cloud rested over her thoughts, obscuring her understanding from the true nature of things.

Serina Calis​

 

[Serina Calis]

Location: Coruscant, Jedi Temple
Tag: Everest Vale ​

Serina stepped inside with the grace of a whisper, the door sliding shut behind her with a soft hiss, sealing them away from the rest of the world. The quiet that followed was warm, heavy, intentional. A space just for the two of them, away from the eyes of the Temple, away from rules and expectations.

She took her time looking around, moving with unhurried ease, as if she were drinking in the details of the room rather than merely observing them. Her fingertips skimmed the edge of the small desk, traced the corner of the meditation cushion, brushed along the neatly arranged shelf. It was smaller than she remembered. Had it always been this small? Or had she simply grown beyond what these walls could contain?

Her lips parted slightly, as if on the verge of some revelation, before she turned back to Eve with a soft, knowing smile. "You've made it your own," she murmured, tilting her head just slightly. "That's good. It should feel like home."

Her voice carried a tenderness now, something rich with sincerity, something warm. She let out a small breath, her gaze softening as she took in the timid way Eve watched her, as if still deciding whether she was predator or protector. It was adorable. And tragic.

"Relax," Serina said gently, stepping closer but this time not invading, not looming—just offering. "I can feel how tense you are, sweet thing." Her voice dipped just slightly into something soothing, something nurturing. "I know I came out of nowhere… but you've been so kind to let me in. Let me do something for you, hmm?"

She lifted a hand, palm up, and let a small glow of light pulse into existence above it—a simple Force technique, nothing grand, nothing that would set off alarm bells. Just a tiny, flickering orb, casting its gentle glow against the dim walls. She turned toward the far side of the room and lifted her other hand, positioning it between the light and the wall, her fingers shifting, forming shadows against the soft illumination.

A shape emerged—something vague at first, then deliberate. The outline of a bird, wings outstretched, moving with slow, careful motions. Then another shape, a small creature standing beside it, something playful, like a tiny, watching fox.

Serina let out a quiet chuckle, flicking her wrist just enough to make the bird flap its wings. "See?" she mused, her tone light, warm, utterly unthreatening. "It's funny, isn't it? Just shadows and light… but if you look at them the right way, they become something else entirely."

She glanced back at Eve, studying her reaction with careful, veiled delight. The way her breath had softened, just slightly. The way her wide, uncertain eyes had flickered with a touch of childlike wonder, even if just for a moment.

"You remind me of this," Serina continued, her voice dipping into something quieter, more intimate. "So much light, but still surrounded by shadows. But do you know what's beautiful about shadows?" She turned back toward the flickering wall, letting her fingers weave the bird into something new, something shifting, its shape evolving seamlessly into something else.

"They can be anything you want them to be."

She turned back to Eve fully now, letting the light between them flicker and dance, casting faint golden hues across her skin. "You're so lovely when you're not afraid," she murmured, the words featherlight, laced with care, with affection, with just a whisper of something deeper. "I wonder… what shapes you'll make, when you finally decide to let yourself be."

She let the silence stretch between them, gentle, comforting, before letting the light in her hand slowly dim, allowing the warmth of the room to settle around them once more.

"Better?" she asked, tilting her head just slightly, her expression nothing but soft, patient kindness. "I just wanted to make you smile."

 

[Everest Vale]

The shadow show gave her a sense of strange, timid amusement. Eve didn't fully understand what the woman was trying to tell her with the projections and her honeyed words. She spoke in such strange riddles. But something about her words struck her, and as she continued to delicately speak with that warm, alluring voice, she felt strangely... at ease. Her next words sent a strange warmth up her back.

"You're so lovely when you're not afraid."

She still couldn't understand who this person was and why she was being so nice to her, but it felt nice to hear. It made he feel... nice. Her silver eyes sparkled with the threat of moisture.

"I wonder… what shapes you'll make, when you finally decide to let yourself be."

The woman was so strangely, suddenly supportive of her, speaking everything she had always wanted to hear from someone — anyone — but was too afraid to admit it. It made her both strangely unsettled and increasingly delighted.

The room returned to its usual, comfortable light, and a sharp silence hung between them. Eve stewed in the mixture of feelings that sat within her. This woman, strange as she may have seemed, was being so nice to her. She spoke words that went straight to her heart, as if she had been waiting for them all her life. She seemed to understand her just by being in her presence for a few moments. Eve bit her lip.

"Better? I just wanted to make you smile."

She nodded in silence. It did make her feel better, and something about this woman compelled her in a way she struggled to formulate into words, but something about her was... pleased for this strange, chance meeting. Finally, words came.

"Y-you'll have to teach me how to do those shadows sometime." A timid smile surfaced.

Serina Calis​

 

[Serina Calis]

Location: Coruscant, Jedi Temple
Tag: Everest Vale ​

Serina's smile deepened, though not in a way that overwhelmed—no, it was soft, slow, something crafted with careful intention. Like the gentle pull of silk over bare skin, it was designed to be felt rather than simply seen. She watched Eve's silver eyes shimmer, the quiet vulnerability lingering there like a delicate thing that had never been truly touched, never truly held. It was delicious. But more than that, it was necessary. This was the first step. The first soft stroke of ink upon an untouched page.

She let a quiet, pleased hum slip from her lips, lowering herself gracefully to sit upon the edge of the meditation cushion, making herself comfortable in her space, as if she had always belonged there. As if this moment had always been waiting to happen. "Oh, sweet thing," she murmured, tilting her head slightly, amusement lacing her voice like a gentle caress. "I would love nothing more."

Her hand lifted again, fingers poised in the air as if she might summon the shadows once more, but this time she let them rest, let the moment linger. Anticipation was everything. She let Eve sit with her own words, with her own invitation. Let her feel the weight of what she had just offered, even if she did not fully understand it yet.

"It's such a simple trick," Serina continued, voice dipping into something warm, something nurturing. "But it's more than just light and shadow. It's control." Her fingers moved just slightly, miming the same delicate shapes as before. "It's learning how to shape the wind, how to let it low to your rhythm—how to take something ordinary, something overlooked… and turn it into art."

Her gaze lifted to meet Eve's once more, her expression equal parts gentle and knowing, as if she saw something within her that even Eve herself had yet to recognize. "And I know you'd be good at it," she continued, her voice so soft now, so terribly sweet. "You have such careful hands, such delicate movements. I can see it in you."

Serina let the weight of her gaze linger for just a breath longer before shifting slightly, leaning back onto her palms with a lazy, comfortable grace. "But I think…" she exhaled, tilting her head thoughtfully, "before I teach you anything, I should at least know your name, shouldn't I?" A small, teasing smile curled at the corner of her lips. "You've been so kind, letting me into your space, sharing this little moment with me, and I haven't even had the pleasure of knowing who you are."

She let her voice dip into something just a little more playful, a little more conspiratorial. "Unless… you'd rather keep it a secret?" A soft chuckle, light and teasing, inviting her into the game. "That would be very mysterious of you, little star."

Serina waited, let the words settle, let Eve choose to answer. It was all part of the delicate dance. Not to push, not to force, but to invite. To let the door open just a little wider—just enough for her to slip through without resistance.

 

[Everest Vale]

Eve really didn't understand. Shaping the wind? Let it low to your rhythm? The riddles she spoke in muddled her brain. The strange silence hung between them, and for but a second Eve felt the quiet wash of discomfort hit her again, before it dissipated immediately into empty stillness.

More of her sweet words came, easy but kind to her ears and heart. She looked at her own hands in response to the woman's complements as if confused at her conclusion, and then back to her. What did she mean she could 'see' it in her?

"But I think... before I teach you anything, I should at least know your name, shouldn't I? You've been so kind, letting me into your space, sharing this little moment with me, and I haven't even had the pleasure of knowing who you are. Unless… you'd rather keep it a secret? That would be very mysterious of you, little star."

'Little star'. The sudden nickname made a soft blush of pink reach her cheeks as she shuffled uncomfortably.

"E-Everest," she told her immediately without much forethought, as if responding automatically on command. "Eve," she added hurriedly, not quite meeting her guest's eyes. "H-how about you?"

Serina Calis​

 

[Serina Calis]

Location: Coruscant, Jedi Temple
Tag: Everest Vale ​

Serina let the name roll over in her mind, savoring it as if it were something precious, something hers. Everest. Eve. It was delicate and soft, a name that could be whispered like a secret or sung like a lullaby. And the way she had given it, so automatic, so eager to please—it made something inside Serina purr with delight.

Her gaze flickered down, watching that shy little shuffle, the nervous way Eve barely met her eyes. So sweet. So pliant. She had been given a name, and now it was hers to use.

"Everest," Serina repeated, tasting it. "Mmm… no, I think I like Eve more." She smiled slowly, leaning forward just slightly, as if she were sharing something just between them. "It suits you, don't you think? Small, gentle… but powerful in ways people don't always expect." Her voice dripped with warmth, the nickname curling over her tongue like a ribbon she had just tied around her little star.

She let the silence stretch, just long enough to let Eve settle into the feeling of it, before exhaling softly and leaning back once more. "And as for me?" She tilted her head, as if considering her next words with careful deliberation. Then, with the softest, most genuine of smiles, she let the name spill from her lips like a gift.

"Serina Calis."

She watched Eve's face closely, looking for any flicker of recognition. Of course, the name would mean something. The name shouldn't be spoken. It should belong only to whispers of warning, to a past the Jedi would rather forget.

And that was precisely why it would be so perfect.

Serina leaned forward, just enough that her presence felt closer, more intimate, her expression shifting into something almost hesitant, almost vulnerable. "I shouldn't be telling you this," she murmured, lowering her voice just slightly, letting the words curl around Eve like a net waiting to be drawn tight. "But I trust you, Eve. I can see it in you—your kindness, your heart. You're not like the others."

She let the weight of that settle before continuing, her voice taking on something deeper, something almost reverent.

"I was never killed," she whispered. "The Grandmaster needed someone to go deep—deep into the heart of the Sith. To work my way inside, to learn what they know, to destroy them from within." She let her eyes flicker with something fierce, something determined, a devotion that felt holy in its conviction. "It had to look real. It had to be real. The Jedi had to believe I was gone, so that my mission could succeed."

Serina watched Eve carefully, the widening of her eyes, the quiet disbelief that fought against the desperate hope of wanting to believe. And so, she leaned in closer, speaking just above a whisper, letting every syllable brush against the air like a confession, like a secret wrapped in trust.

"That's why no one knows. That's why you can't tell anyone—not even Grandmaster Noble." She let the words sink in, let the tension of secrecy coil around them like an embrace. "If they knew, if they even suspected I was still alive, they'd think my cover was compromised. They'd recall me. And the Sith would win."

She exhaled softly, like the weight of it all was so heavy, like she had never told another soul—only her. "I shouldn't have told you. But…" She reached out, just slightly, as if barely resisting the urge to take Eve's hands in hers. "I trust you, Eve." A gentle smile, warm and pure. "I knew the moment I saw you."

Inside, Serina was glowing with pleasure, every word spoken with the careful precision of a master sculptor chiseling away at soft, untouched marble. The power of it, the sheer delight of watching truth and fiction twist into something new, something intoxicating, something real in the mind of her little, precious Eve.

She could already see it, feel it—the hesitation giving way to belief, the longing for purpose, for importance, for connection. It was a symphony of human nature, and she was conducting it with perfection.

"I need you to keep this secret for me," she said at last, her voice barely above a breath. "Can you do that, little star?"

 

[Everest Vale]

Something broke in Eve in that moment, as everything she thought she knew was real started to collapse around her. Her vision darkened as her mind struggled to process what was being said to her. Serina Calis? How? She spoke of spying and secrecy, elaborate plans far too complicated for her to understand. No, it can't be true. Can it? Eve was dizzy, and the familiar churning of her stomach had returned again.

This was why she felt so on edge. This was what made her feel so strange, so confused, so unsafe. She felt so violated, so pushed beyond any reasonable boundary, any sense of security and safety suddenly broken.

But maybe she was telling the truth after all. Maybe she was a Shadow tasked with a dangerous mission into Sith Space, and the fabrication of a fallen Jedi was the most reasonable one to cover her tracks.

The opposing conclusions bounced endlessly in her mind, and minutes of painful silence seemed to pass as Eve visibly tried to make sense of what this woman — Serina — had told her. Her heart beat against her ear, notably faster than it was, and her breathing started to move out of control, of its own unpredictable accord. Finally, words came from her, spluttered and panicked.

"P-p-please... Please leave."

It was almost a whisper. Eve could barely control her faculties as her body tensed from shear panic, until finally she forced herself to say it again.

"Please leave!"

Tears threatened to fall from her eyes, that had begun to well from such intense emotion, and her hands rolled into a weak fist as she tried her best to helplessly stand up for herself.

"I— I won't ask you again."

Her eyes would not meet her.

Serina Calis​

 

[Serina Calis]

Location: Coruscant, Jedi Temple
Tag: Everest Vale ​

Serina felt the shift, the fracture. The moment where reality and illusion clashed inside Eve's mind, spinning her into confusion, into fear. It was raw, fragile, beautiful. But Serina had miscalculated—just slightly. She had pushed too quickly, too deeply, and now her little star was unraveling beneath the weight of it all.

She watched as Eve tensed, the panic rising in her chest, her small fists clenched in some desperate attempt to reclaim control of the moment. The poor thing. She wasn't ready yet.

Serina exhaled softly, her gaze lowering in something that almost looked like sadness. "Of course," she murmured, standing gracefully, slowly, as if to avoid startling her any further. "I'm sorry, Eve."

She made no move to touch her, no attempt to press further. Instead, she let the air between them settle, let the tension breathe for just a moment before she did something unexpected.

She began to sing.

A melody, soft as a whisper, drifted from her lips—an old children's song from Chandrila, one that spoke of rolling meadows and golden wheat fields, of the wind that danced across the land like a mother's touch. It was a song of home, of warmth, of a time when things were simple and safe. The song her own mother would sing to her every night before bed.

Serina still sang it to herself every single night she had the opportunity. It was the only thing that reminded her of the life before.

"Oh, the hills stretch far, where the rivers run wide,
Where the sun kisses earth and the sparrows still glide.
Rest now, my darling, in meadows so deep,
The stars watch above, as you drift into sleep…"

Her voice was hauntingly beautiful, pure and controlled, weaving effortlessly through each note. It filled the small room like a lullaby spun from moonlight, wrapping around Eve's trembling form, easing the sharp edges of her fear, if only for a moment.

For a second, she almost felt at home. Felt as her mother would when she sang it to her all those times ago.

Almost.

Serina's eyes softened as she sang, watching the way she hoped rhythm slowed Eve's frantic breathing, the way the melody wove its way into her, even as she tried to fight it. It was calm. It was comfort. It was control, not through force, not through deception, but through something far more insidious—understanding.

She let the song fade, the last note lingering in the air like a gentle caress before she finally spoke, her voice barely above a whisper. "It's alright, little star. I understand."

She took a slow step backward, toward the door. "I never wanted to scare you. I only wanted to share something with you. To trust you." A soft, almost regretful smile curled at her lips, her gaze heavy with something unspoken. "But I see now that it was too soon. And that's alright."

She pressed the door's control panel, the quiet hiss breaking the delicate silence as it slid open. She didn't leave immediately, though. She lingered, just for a breath, letting the weight of her presence settle one last time.

"You don't have to believe me," she murmured. "Not now. Not ever, if that's what you choose." Her gaze flickered with something deeper, something unreadable. "But try, at least for me.”

“Can you do that, little star?”

She let the words hang, knowing they would stay long after she was gone. Then, finally, she stepped through the threshold, her final gift to Eve not another riddle, not another lie—just that same soft, sweet melody, humming under her breath as she disappeared into the corridor.

 

[Everest Vale]

Her mind was awash with an unusual confusion as that strange, haunting melody echoed through her very bones. Her shaking nevertheless ceased a moment as the song took a profound hold of her, arresting all panic and pain she was feeling. Regardless, the moisture from her eyes finally fell down her face, as the overwhelming cocktail of emotions finally became too much for her. But that song... It was so strange, so haunting, so comforting...

Serina's parting words burrowed their way into her mind, though she couldn't muster a single word in response. The strange melody, she could hear echoing down the hallway outside, slowly dissipating into a silence that once was comforting to her, but now held its own fresh tension that she feared would never leave. The song circled about her mind, confusing and comforting, reminding her of her fear, yet offering something else, something more, that she couldn't understand.

Her hands were still clenched as her shaking returned, and when she was as sure as she could be that Serina had disappeared into the night, she could no longer hold herself together. Legs giving out, she fell to her knees, her web of silver hair suddenly messy over her face as she shook uncontrollably on the floor.

And she wept.

And wept.

And wept.

* * *​