Private Scars of Survival

[Caelan Valoren]

ATTIRE: Link
TAGS: Ezorea Zethussaln

Even despite his own efforts, even despite the efforts of others, the wound on his cheek persisted. There was something about it, a taint of darkness, that lingered and caused it to remain the repugnant blemish that it was. Not that he cared so much about his appearance, it mattered little to him whether people perceived him as attractive, but because it caused him regular pain and he received a lot of stares and questions because of it. It needed to heal. The wound constantly sapped at his soul, made it difficult to fight away the dark that gnawed at him ever since his journey to Tython. It made it hard for him to do the things he needed to do at times, and others it made it easier for him to slip into a place he didn't want to be.

There were plenty of healers among the Jedi. Plenty of people on Coruscant that could mend wounds. But nobody could make the darkness go away. Nobody could contain it. Nobody knew what to do.

He left the temple one evening, leaving Arhiaa in comforted sleep within her room. She would be alright. Things had started to get better for her, and he was positive that her mental state was on the mend. She would be alright without him for a bit. He shoved his hands inside of his robes, keeping his fingers cold, as he wandered away and through the streets. There was still a lot to be done to fix Coruscant after what had befallen it. Damaged buildings. Damaged people. He'd seen his fair share of the worst of it when he'd been stuck hiding in the lowest levels before Annie had found him. Someone, he knew, always needed help.

What he needed was to clear his head, so he walked aimlessly, trying to focus on nothing other than each step he took. The scar was burning again, and he could feel the dark calling to him, wanting him to go back to Lazerian IV and strike down those who had hurt him, who'd killed his parents. It wanted him to hunt down the Mandalorian that had callously killed the Queen of Onderon. It wanted him to become a monster that he didn't want to be. If he could only find someone, somewhere, that could help him fix it all. Get rid of the darkness. Even if the scar remained in some capacity, just getting of the darkness would fix it all.

He sighed, and looked around, realizing he had no idea where he was, though he could hear crying in the distance from various sources. Or, at least, he thought he did. He stopped and turned his gaze upward, looking toward the sky, wondering how he could fix himself.

 

[Ezorea Zethussaln]

TAGS: Caelan Valoren
Ezorea moved through the bustling streets of Coruscant with a purposeful stride, her heart heavy with the burden of the city's suffering. The air was thick with the remnants of destruction, but amidst the chaos, there were glimmers of hope. She had spent hours tending to the wounded, her hands working tirelessly to mend broken bodies and soothe tormented minds. Healing was not just her duty—it was her calling.

As she finished wrapping a bandage around a young child's injured arm, her attention was drawn to a figure moving aimlessly through the crowd. There was something about the way he held himself, the aura of pain and darkness that surrounded him, that caught her eye. Instinctively, she knew she had to reach out to him. Ezorea carefully approached the wandering soul, her purple, pupil-less eyes filled with curiosity. She didn't want to startle the young man, despite her tall and imposing presence.

"Hello there," she said, gathering her courage to speak to Caelan. "My name is Ezorea." She introduced herself softly, hoping not to jolt him from his thoughts.

The Arkanian wore an elegant black robe adorned with a purple dragon crest on her right shoulder. To the casual observer, it might have looked simply fancy, but to those with experience in nobility, it clearly denoted her noble lineage. The intricate stitching and the quality of the fabric spoke of her status, a subtle yet unmistakable sign of her heritage.

"I couldn't help but notice your wound," she continued, her voice gentle and soothing. "It seems to carry a weight that is not just physical." Her eyes traced the scar on his cheek, the dark, tainted mark that seemed to resist all efforts to heal. She could sense the darkness that lingered within it, an oppressive force that gnawed at his spirit.

 

[Caelan Valoren]

ATTIRE: Link
TAGS: Ezorea Zethussaln

Somewhere out there his mother still lingered, not having fully entered the Force yet. If she had, he wouldn't see her as he still did. Perhaps that wasn't a good thing, he didn't know, but he knew that she came to him when he really needed her. He didn't want her to go away. He wished she weren't dead to begin with. There were times he still needed her, and he knew there would be more times he needed her because there were a lot more trials to come in his life that he hadn't yet faced.

But his reverie was broken by a voice, and he looked away from the heavens and found himself looking slightly upward at a tall, pale skinned and pale haired woman. She resembled an Echani. He'd met them before, but she also seemed a bit too tall to be one. At least from what he knew.

"Hello, Ezorea," he said, since she greeted him. "I'm Padawan Caelan Valoren."

He turned to face her, taking in the clothing she wore. Spotting the crest on her shoulder, his eyes hinted at recognition.

"You're Arkanian Nobility? I recognize that crest. House.... Zethussaln?"

But his attention was quickly diverted when she mentioned his wound and his hand lifted up to his cheek to press against it. It was still unhealed, even after months, and whenever he touched it, there was still the feeling of dampness, as if it oozed, which it kind of did, though usually not heavily so. Lowering his hand, he turned his gaze back to her eyes and nodded.

"Yes, it has lingered since I received it months ago. I believe the blade that made it was infused with the dark side, but I don't know that for certain. Regardless, the wound never heals and the darkness within it affects my mind at times, though I do my best to control it."

 

[Ezorea Zethussaln]

TAGS: Caelan Valoren

Ezorea's eyes widened in surprise when Caelan mentioned her house. A soft smile played on her lips as she gave a gentle nod, acknowledging her heritage. "Yes," she confirmed, her voice steady but carrying the weight of her lineage.

For a moment, her mind wandered back to her Arkanian roots and the responsibilities that came with being part of House Zethussaln. The memories of her family, the duties she had to uphold, and the expectations placed upon her swirled in her thoughts. It was a rare occasion for her to encounter a Jedi, especially a Padawan, and the significance of this meeting was not lost on her.

As she brought her focus back to Caelan, her gaze fell upon the scar on his cheek. The wound looked painful, its presence a constant reminder of a battle fought and the lingering effects of the dark side. Concern etched itself into her expression, and she couldn't help but feel a pull of empathy for the young Padawan standing before her.

"Can I try to heal your scar?" she asked softly, her voice filled with genuine care. "Has anyone else tried to heal it, either with the Force or in any other way?" Despite the weight of her own responsibilities and the legacy she carried, Ezorea found a sense of solace in helping others. She knew the Force flowed through all living things and believed in its ability to heal and restore balance. She waited for his permission to proceed, her eyes reflecting her sincere intent to aid him in any way she could.

 

[Caelan Valoren]

ATTIRE: Link
TAGS: Ezorea Zethussaln

"Ahh, don't be too surprised," he said, shaking his head. "I'm the Crown Prince of the Kingdom of Dewit. I was made to study many other nobilities."

The wound was painful. At times. It was an off again, on again sort of pain that sprang up here and there when he least expected it, and often when it was very inconvenient. Like now. He should be back at the temple making sure that Arhiaa was alright, even though he knew she was, but instead he was out wandering the city trying to get a grip on himself. It was times like this that he was most bothered by it because it kept him from performing the duties he was sworn to do.

So when she asked about healing the scar, he nodded his head. What harm would it do?

"When I first came to the Jedi I was told that the scar would be healed when the time was right. Not that they wouldn't do it, but that the time wasn't right for it. Still not sure why they didn't take care of it themselves, but there were only a small number of Jedi there when I arrived. Possibly none were skilled at healing."

Now he was just blathering on in speculation. Reality was that he had no idea why they hadn't healed it and why no one else had bothered to offer to try. Perhaps they didn't think they could because of the nature of the wound itself? He didn't know. Healing was not something he was skilled at and that was unlikely to change.

"Even if all you do is negate the dark portion of it I would be obliged."

 

[Ezorea Zethussaln]

TAGS: Caelan Valoren
Ezorea looked at Caelan with a mix of surprise and admiration in her eyes. "I didn't know anyone outside of Arkania cared to know about my minor House," she admitted, her voice carrying a hint of astonishment. "It's surprising that you have such knowledge. My family never imagined that our existence would matter to those beyond our world."

Her eyes lingered on Caelan as he spoke about the Jedi and their peculiar ways. She listened intently, her head tilted slightly to the side, her curiosity piqued. The Jedi were a mystery to her, their actions and motives often incomprehensible. "Perhaps it was indeed a lack of healers at the time," she mused, attempting to make sense of the situation. "The Jedi have always been selective in their practices, and maybe they believed the right time had not yet come."

When Caelan finally agreed to let her heal his scar, a sense of determination welled up within her. Nodding, she moved closer, her four-digited fingers poised to begin the delicate task. Ezorea's gaze focused on the wound, her mind reaching out to sense the depth of the corruption within. As her fingers hovered over the scar, she could feel the dark energy embedded in Caelan's flesh. It pulsed with a malevolent force, resisting her initial attempts to penetrate it. Ezorea closed her eyes, drawing upon her inner strength and the teachings of her ancestors. She allowed herself to become a conduit for the healing energy, channeling it through her fingertips. Her mind drifted back to her family and the traditions they held dear.

She thought of her father, a stern yet compassionate man who had taught her to harness the Force with care and respect. His words echoed in her mind as she worked, reminding her of the responsibility that came with wielding such power. "The Force is a tool, Ezorea," he had said. "It can heal as easily as it can harm. Always remember that your intentions guide its flow."

With renewed determination, she focused her energy on the scar, visualizing the dark tendrils retreating and the corrupted tissue mending. The healing process was not quick, nor was it easy. Ezorea knew that she was not among the most skilled healers, but she was persistent. She aimed to at least ease Caelan's pain, even if she couldn't fully eradicate the darkness. Her fingers trembled slightly as she worked, channeling the Force to push back against the malevolent energy. She watched for any signs of pain from Caelan and would stop if it became too much for him.

 

[Caelan Valoren]

ATTIRE: Link
TAGS: Ezorea Zethussaln

Caelan shook his head.

"Minor houses are of importance to know as well," he said. "A minor house could become a major one, after all."

He believed in what she said at the last, that the right time had not come. They had told him that he would find the way himself. They didn't stipulate how. The Force had led him to Ezorea so it made sense to him that, in finding a healer such as her on the streets of Coruscant, there was some import to their meeting. Healing him would go a long way to defeating the internal battle he had faced ever since his parents had been killed. On top of that, it would make him a new friend, someone who he could count on in the future.

When she placed her hands near his face he didn't move, but did allow his eyes to close. One thing he believed was that when a healer was working, and you have the mental ability to do so, you should help them. He was not in a state of absolute distress, or unconscious as some were when being healed. Being fully awake, he could utilize the Force himself to draw it towards the wound, to help her fight against the darkness, pushing at it from inside while she pushed from without. The effect was such that it sandwiched the darkness within the wound in a manner that didn't allow it to escape.

There was a wince from him the first time the scarred tissue moved. It didn't feel good to have it affected in such a manner, but he didn't cry out or say anything. After having had his arm turned into an absolutely useless wreck on Tython it would take a lot of pain to bring him to tears again. But he could feel his skin shifting, moving, healing. On top of that, he could feel the darkness within the wound beginning to dissipate, beginning to leave.

"Don't stop. I can- I can feel it working."