Private The Anvil Which Forged Me

[Alicio Organa]

ONDERON
HIGHLANDS
​

"...And... you are certain you don't need an armed escort?"

"I'm sure. Lady Kryze is a friend." Alicio let his muted eyes turn on Captain da Silva, before continuing to stare out the viewport of the bridge of the Gift of Peace. The sparse, craggy hillside of the Onderon Highlands passing underneath was a pleasant sight. Rugged, sharp, but majestically beautiful, all the same. "There is no safer place to be than surrounded by friendly Mandalorians. And you and the Abzu will be close at hand, if something were to go wrong."

"If you say so, Your Majesty." Alicio smirked apologetically at the naval officer's obvious unease, letting his hands fall naturally behind his back.

"I will be safe, Seline. Have faith." There was some amount of uncertainty in the royal's words, which he hoped the Alderaanian captain didn't pick up on. Truthfully, he wasn't worried about his personal safety. But his meeting with the Alor would almost certainly be more taxing than just a pleasant visit. He needed help making something.

Who better to ask than a Forgemaster?

Finally, the Gift touched down at the given coordinates, it's intricate wings folding against it's sides. The Alliance Senator and King of Alderaan stepped out alone, covered in sparse armor plates, his cape catching a bit of mountain breeze. He wasn't quite sure what, or who, he would see. But he couldn't deny a feeling of importance. This day was... a long time coming.

- Jenn Kryze -

 

[Jenn Kryze]

Beskar'gam
​

| Location | Onderon Highland
| Objective | Receive a friend

Even to the staunchest allies of Jenn's people, the warriors of the Clan could sometimes prove to be a... disparate lot. From the most ruthless of mercenaries to the murderous zealots who once called the Sith their masters, all were offered cin vhetin; a fresh start, normally reserved for those who first abandoned their past culture to become Mandalorians. A decision that gave her a vast number of warriors to command, but made wrangling them all the more difficult at times, especially now that they were no longer a nomadic horde.​

​

No, they were truly setting down roots this time, and unlike their former attempt at doing so in B'yaim Haar Cabur, they were mindful to enshrine their independence from any galactic power this time, as Jenn's latest visit to the Mandalorian Protectors had demonstrated. They held their loyalty to one another - and to the crown of Onderon, for allowing them to finally end their aimless journey. The sparsely-populated highlands seemed to fit the warriors of beskar just fine, the natural defenses offered by the landscape already allowing them to determine just where they would build their homes.​

​

As many in the Clan busied themselves with building more permanent housing and erecting small palisades to keep out the local wildlife, others chose to explore the planet and see just what it had to offer for themselves; the more gregarious among them kept on rubbing shoulders in Iziz, eager to dispel some of the fear still held towards them. No amount of good will could wipe away thousands of years of reputation as ruthless, faceless warriors, after all.​

​

Alicio's arrival was, if anything, a reminder of how far along they had come. Not all in the Clan remembered the Gift of Peace, but the Nite Owls, elite guard of the Alor, most certainly did. As did they the somewhat tumultuous circumstances behind the first meeting between the woman they regarded as the heart of the Clan... and the man who would, in time, become king of Alderaan. Few things were more Mandalorian than foes discovering a mutual respect for one another and striking up bonds of friendship.​

​

Jenn, for her part, seemed covered in soot and coal dust as she stepped on over to welcome her guest, making a point of taking off her helmet with that characteristic hiss of depressurization. No others Mandalorians were present just yet; evidently, the Alor felt no need to show ceremony and pomp where it was unneeded. In typical Mandalorian fashion, she considered the man before her as friend first, and king second - and there was hardly much need to drag her Owls from their tasks just for the sake of being seen.​

​

Those piercing grey eyes of hers looked over the armor plates covering Alicio's frame as a craftsman would appraise something presented before him- before softening somewhat as she crossed his gaze, her lips forming a smirk.​

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"Sparse armor plating added over a dark jacket, with a cloak to hide the former. My compliments to whichever tailor designed this- and smith. How fares, Alicio?" Extending an arm towards the simple trail her people had marked with their coming and goings, she stepped aside, if only so that they may walk side by side. "We're still working towards building the village, so, apologies in advance for all the folks bustling about. What can I do for you?"​

​

Alicio Organa ​

 

[Alicio Organa]

Alicio heard Jenn's voice through the future a moment before she spoke them, an amused smirk passing over his face.

"I fare," he repeated, letting a moment of humor color his greeting. In all honesty... his stewardship of the Chalcedony Star was proving to be taxing. Alicio was used to pressure of it's kind, but that didn't mean he appreciated being pulled in so many directions. Alderaan, the Senate, and his family certainly kept him busy. "And I'll pass along the compliment." He knew each craftsman by name. He'd sent them messages of thanks after the armor saved him on Odacer-Faustin.

With an easy nod, Alicio fell into step aside the Mandalorian, letting sure footsteps guide him along the newly-worn path. "I was a city-planner before I became a senator, you know. I understand how much work it can be." His smirk returned. "I won't hold the creation of an entire settlement against your hospitality."

"What can I do for you?"

The new monarch paused for an Alicio-appropriate amount of time, chewing on his words before releasing them. "The war in the Core is on the precipice of escalating. Billions of people are at risk. I plan on throwing myself into the thick of it. But there are... complications... to a standing Senator and ruler of a nation being on the battlefield. So, I need a way to obscure my identity... and help me get home safe."

"I need a helmet." Alicio cast a sly look sideways at Jenn. "I don't suppose you'd know anyone that could help me make one?"

- Jenn Kryze -

 

[Jenn Kryze]

Beskar'gam
​

| Location | Onderon Highland - The Forge
| Objective | A Smith's Duty

An appreciative nod came in response to Alicio's mention of passing along her thanks. No matter the cultural divide she might find between herself and those who had designed the monarch's apparel, the Alor remained a craftswoman at heart, and she held no small amount of respect for those with the calloused hands to prove their labor. The mention of Alicio's past as a city-planner, however, claimed a warm chuckle from the siren.​

​

"I'm not surprised", remarked the fiery-haired warrior with a satisfied little smirk. "You've always seemed the type to try and represent your people. Only makes sense to me that even in your humble beginnings before the crown and the Senate, you were already hard at work doing just that." ​

​

She marked a pause, then, listening to him speak as they kept on walking along the path, getting ever-closer to the bustle of the humble village-to-be. Many armored warriors came and went carrying materials, their efforts coordinated by a handful of carefully-selected foremen; even now, they seemed to favor the use of simple materials for their housing, in accordance with the Alor's wishes for the Clan. Wood, stone and wicker were more than enough for what she envisioned; nation-building was something she had never cared to pursue, preferring to steer Clan Kryze towards a simpler existence.​

​

Some of the Mandalorians glared at Alicio as he passed them by, just as they had done on prior occasions - but it seemed that with each visit, fewer and fewer of the taciturn warriors cared to show him such unspoken hostility... and more and more of them acknowledged his presence. To earn but a respectful nod from such a dour people was no mean feat; their respect could carry them to the ends of the earth for those they cared to call their allies. A few of them even went so far as to bring their hands to rest upon their heart as the King of Alderaan passed them by. A simple, yet meaningful sign of peace, usually meant for fellow Mando'ade.​

​

"I heard the seat of the Senate was moved away from Coruscant", remarked the Alor with a hint of worry permeating her voice. "I've heard rumors of Senators closing shop, but- do you know if Natasi..."​

​

She trailed off, then, her words dying in her throat. There were some things she was not meant to say, some fruits never to be enjoyed, some things better left buried- but she knew, deep in her heart, that Natasi Fortan might very well just prove too prideful to take her things and leave with her tail between her legs. Ever-capable of maintaining her countenance, it would be perfectly in character for the damnably enthralling aristocrat to dig her heels and make a show of it all, staying on Coruscant to inspire others, if not out of a personal sense of commitment.​

​

Silence permeated the air, then, as the path took them further away from the building village and to one of the few structures they had already completed; the forge, sitting on one of the highest points of the highlands, overlooking the land bestowed upon the warriors of blue and white by the Queen of Onderon. The other smiths were doubtlessly busy with the application of their supplies to the creation of the settlement; and, mercifully enough, Alicio's words shook Jenn awake from her reverie, a truly melodious laugh escaping her throat.​

​

"A helmet, your majesty?" teased the Ersansyr, her voice taking on that alluring, sing-song intonation she sometimes slipped into. "Mmmh, well... I suppose I could, much as it grieves me that I must design this with your anonymity in mind. I could have made you a helmet fit for a king, but perhaps one that does not draw too much attention might be a better call." ​

​

A thoughtful hum escaped her, then, as she slipped on a pair of smithing gloves over her hands.​

​

"Very well, then. Are there any particular needs you have for this helmet, other than secrecy? Targeting systems, friend-or-foe identification, vision enhancers..."​

​

Alicio Organa ​

 

[Alicio Organa]

"You've always seemed the type to try and represent your people. Only makes sense to me that even in your humble beginnings before the crown and the Senate, you were already hard at work doing just that."

Alicio let a stray hand deflect the Mandalorian's observation, fastening his cape a little more securely around his mantle. "Plenty of politicians begin as civic servants." Alicio hid his flattered smile by looking out over the progressing village. For so many years, his senatorial job had been a thankless one. Being acknowledged for the one thing he cared for most...

It did feel good.

The king took care to return every friendly greeting he received. Some helmets, he remembered from his time in captivity, but many, he didn't recognize. He supposed it meant his face wasn't unwelcome among Clan Kryze, even if he wasn't entirely welcome yet, either.

Alicio heard the Ersanyr's question, first picking it up at face value, his demeanor becoming stoic and thoughtful. Then, he thought of the implications, and a curious shadow passed over his face. "I've spoken with her about it. She's staying."

"Senator Fortan has taken it upon herself to show the Alliance that we aren't abandoning them. She's... monstrously brave, though I don't love the idea of her being at risk again. It wasn't long ago I was saving her from you." Alicio's face became knowing, searching. "On a first name basis with Natasi, are we?"

The Alor was quick to join in on his joke about his request. Reigning in his thoughts so as not to get charmed by the siren's sudden song, Alicio's mouth curled into a light smile. "Mmm... Anonymity doesn't mean we can't do something... striking. I do have an aesthetic to maintain."

Immediately, Jenn started asking the right questions. Alicio let his hands cross behind his back, buried into his cloak. "You're the armor expert, but I would prefer something... scant, tech-wise. I don't want to distract my senses, if that makes sense. As for other specifications..." The former Count thought a moment. "It's... difficult to explain."

"Perhaps I can show you, rather than tell you." Grey eyes found grey eyes, and Alicio smiled sheepishly. "Have you ever experienced a vision before, Jenn?"

- Jenn Kryze -

 

[Jenn Kryze]

Beskar'gam
​

| Location | Onderon Highlands - The Clan's Forge
| Objective | Forge's Fire, Heart's Flame

Alicio was a singular soul, to be sure- someone who managed to earn the respect of the Mandalorian holding him hostage at the time, dispelling her belief that all politicians were inherently cowardly and petty. Hardly a surprise, then, that she seemed so adamant on honoring the King's achievements, undeterred by his humility, or the attempt to deflect her words born from it.​

​

"And how many of these politicians have let power twist them into creatures of greed?" asked the Mandalorian rhetorically, slowly lifting a brow- as if challenging him to try and find another way to cloak himself in humility. "Many fall in the face of wealth and power, but not you. In that, you are extraordinary."​

​

There was confidence in her words, as ever; wise as she was, Jenn remained a proud woman, whose voice alone had brought about unprecedented change among her people. Some in the Clan said that when the Alor spoke, the world trembled. Hers was a most effortless of authority, respected by many, even beyond the boundaries of the highlands. And yet, for all of her reputation, the woman walking at Alicio's side was very much mortal indeed, as her reaction proved in the face of his sagacity. Her eyes closed as a breathless sigh escaped her lips, the turmoil within her threatening to spill forth, if for but a moment. There were a hundred different things she could say in answer to that observation, but in the end, what escaped her was not an impassioned declaration of her admiration for Natasi's strength of character, nor a somber confession as to what, exactly, she felt for the Galidraani aristocrat.​

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"You are granted the power of sight beyond sight", came her answer at last after a silence whose weight could not be denied. If anything, the sheer beauty of her voice only added to the sense of melancholy behind her words. "I hardly need to tell you that things are far from simple when it comes to that particular topic. She and I buried the hatchet, so to speak- Valery Noble played peacemaker, and we all walked away satisfied from that encounter. By all accounts I... I should be content with that."​

​

But she wasn't. And when her eyes opened once more, they were as blue as a tropical sea, longing and stoic acceptance clashing within those irises. "The heart wants what the heart wants."​

​

And that was that. Any more time spent on the subject would be akin to skewering herself on the lance of verity until her guts spilled out. If anything, the chance to turn her attention towards the aim behind Alicio's visit was welcomed with open arms; an alluring siren she may be by her nature, Jenn remained a smith at heart, easily excited by the prospect of creating something meant for a stalwart ally like Alicio. A chance to be of service, partake in an honest craft she so adored, and chase away the romantic longing lingering in her heart... it was perfect.​

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"Subdued, yet regal, then", suggested the Alor with a smile. "A touch of vanity, as all things knightly often are." ​

​

An appreciative nod followed Alicio's specifications, as well as a light tap of her palm against the top of the helmet she carried under her arm. "A wise choice. When I refashioned my armor to better suit my new nature, I rid myself of most unnecessary systems. Versatility can often pave the road to clutter."​

​

Then, came the talk of her experience with visions, prompting a frown to cross the Alor's features, her reaction almost visceral, if for but an eyeblink.​

​

"Once", came the Mandalorian's prudent response. "On Ilum, when Valery assisted me in my quest for a kyber crystal. I faced my own challenge in the form of a... I am not quite sure if one might call it a vision. One moment, I was walking in the crystal caverns of Ilum, and the next, I breathed the fire and death of my youth, when Mandalore fell. I faced my fears, my regrets, my guilt, and I emerged triumphant."​

​

Alicio Organa ​

 

[Alicio Organa]

"Less than you fear," the former Count protested. Then, after a moment of introspection, he added, "...But more than I'd hope."

"...Thank you. I really do appreciate it." As uncomfortable as overt praise usually made him, it did genuinely feel good, coming from a friend.

The journey in Jenn's heart was written clearly on her face, and in the tastes of the air between them. That distant longing, that flavorless loneliness... it halted any friendly ribbing he may have been tempted to continue. Instead, his face fell, his eyes soft, and understanding. He could tell Jenn wanted to leave the topic behind them, discarded to the side of the dirt path. Alicio obliged her, but not without one last thought. "If it isn't meant to be... then it isn't meant to be. But wilder things have happened in this messed up galaxy. I... hope you find what you're looking for." He'd uttered the phrase to Jenn before, when they'd departed for the first time. Alicio could only hope it still held weight.

Talks of his possible helmet made Alicio's sheepish smile grow. "Um... my... specifications... are not very subtle. You'll... see what I mean."

The tale of the Mandalorian's first vision enraptured the King. But he didn't seem surprised. "Lightsaber crystals like to... challenge their wielders. Same thing happend to me, when I made mine. I saw... everything, everyone I cared about, dissolving away." With a practiced motion, he produced his lightsaber, dexterous fingers adeptly pulling it apart for a moment, to release it's crystal. A cold black heart, with an ombre of dark blue around it.

"I've seen the helmet in my visions. Multiple times. I want to... show you. If you'll allow it."

- Jenn Kryze -

 

[Jenn Kryze]

Beskar'gam
​

| Location | Onderon Highlands - The Clan's Forge
| Objective | A peer into a friend's dreams...

To his credit, the King's protest was heeded, a simple cant of the Alor's head showing her acknowledgement. Just as Alicio had proven her wrong when it came to the spinelessness of politicians, he might very well convince him that more brave souls followed his noble example. A concept she had difficulty wrapping her head around, given her own interactions with those granted power and wealth aplenty in the past; even the Mando'ade could be corrupted by such influences, losing themselves in delusions of their own making, fed the chimera of their own hope for glory and honor. And Jenn...​

​

Oh, Jenn hungered. Whether her lust for power was to be blamed on her nature as Ersansyr or merely the consequences of wrapping the heavy, if regal mantle of leadership around her shoulders, the fierce warrior was not immune to the alluring song that beckoned her to step forth and claim more influence for herself, seducing her with thoughts of restoring her people to their rightful role. Fighting against the desire to close her open hand into a fist was a near-daily struggle, and yet she soldiered on, driven by a desire to overcome her fate.​

​

Fate. Another concept she fought with all of her being, raging endlessly against the notion of a pre-ordained path put before her and others. There was a dark sort of irony at play here, considering her friendship with a man capable of sight beyond sight, piercing through the veil and perceiving the skein of fate... by all accounts, she should have loathed him, and sought to bring nothing but ruination unto him. And yet, she did the opposite, letting him perceive her at her most vulnerable, all but confessing that which she had kept for herself all this time, so utterly convinced that the burden was hers, and hers alone. The kindness she could see in his eyes claimed but the slightest of smiles from the Alor, carrying herself with nobility even in her sorrow.​

​

Sometimes, she behaved as a sullen, brooding mystic, her majesty as undeniable as the aura of mystery about her. Walling herself in silence as she was, this seemed to be one such time, allowing the king a chance to see her for what she could have been, had she been allowed to pursue a path separate from that of a leader. Deathly quiet as she was, the Alor's eyes betrayed the keen interest she felt for her guest's words as the King of Alderaan spoke of the visions he had to face to obtain his own crystal. With a graceful gesture of her hand, she seized the handle of her own weapon from its place resting at her belt... and, with a flick of her wrist, she brought the lightwhip to life, demonstrating the deadly grace with which she wielded it with each motion made. One wrong move, and the water-like energy would surely cause grievous injury to herself and her friend - and yet she made no such mistake, a low bow marking the end of her little deadly performance.​

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"The crystal suits you", remarked the Mandalorian at last, her eyes locked onto it after returning her weapon to its resting place. "Its aura... is reminiscent of your own, in a manner I cannot quite put into words." An appreciative nod followed, her gaze made all the more captivating by how it, too, became searching.​

​

His request gave her pause, her wariness obvious, and yet... a firm nod of assent followed after another weighty silence. "I trust you", came her simple response. "Show me."​

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Alicio Organa ​

 

[Alicio Organa]

Alicio canted his head to the side, watching with interest as Jenn produced her lightwhip. The king understood that a person's weapon could tell a lot about them. On his end, Introspect was thin, light, and maneuverable- an elegant weapon designed for subtlety, finesse, accuracy, over brute force. On Jenn's end...

"As does your blade suit you." He admired the color for a moment. "Wild, dangerous, unpredictable to your enemies... but guided by a steady hand, and tempered by experience. And it matches the paint job." He smirked.

"I trust you. Show me."

Alicio nodded slowly, holding out his hand palm-up with his crystal. His voice came not from his mouth, but from Lady Kryze's thoughts. <Then... empty your mind. And let me guide you.> The former Count closed his eyes, and the Force seemed to shift around him, like a great beast turning in it's sleep. His crystal suddenly stood up on it's point, singing a song that tasted of salt water and sweet incense.

Alicio had never shown Jenn the full extent of his connection. His skills didn't end at making water droplets float. Now, he did, opening himself to the galaxy, to the Past and Future, and led them both into his Sight.

Jenn would open her eyes to a new world of water and wind.

A vast expanse of ocean stretched before the both of them, infinite in all directions. Pitch-black waves crashed and roiled underneath their feet, yet somehow they stood still upon the water. Above them, a blue storm writhed, navy clouds swirling in angry thunderheads. The air was chilly, but somehow, the two travelers stayed dry.

Alicio opened his eyes. Dark smoke had begun to pour from the corners of his mouth in twin trails, floating up into the sky. He seemed... confident, despite the chaos that raged around them. This is the Sea, he said, his voice having taken on new depth, echoing around the pair without his mouth moving. I don't know... exactly what, or where it is. Whether our consciousnesses are inside my crystal, or my mind's conceptualization of Time, or a real plane, somewhere in the Netherworld... I couldn't say.

Are you still okay?

- Jenn Kryze -

 

[Jenn Kryze]

Beskar'gam
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| Location | ... home?
| Objective | Guidance in a strange realm

From the lightwhip to the armor she wore, everything about Jenn spoke of her intimate bond with the galaxy's many seas and oceans. There stood a herald of the tides, a woman whose nature, imposed upon her as it may have once been, was inextricably tied with calm seas and tempestuous storm alike. Hardly a surprise, then, that she met the sight of the dreamscape around the both of them with silent awe, her features betraying the conflicting emotions she felt. By all accounts, this unknowable place of seas and storms was unknowable and mysterious, and yet... the proud siren felt an odd sense of familiarity, even though she failed to recognize much of anything.​

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It was, after all, the infinite expanse of the void. Or perhaps not. In this strange realm, the Alor held little to no power, and she relished in this truth. No Clan, no responsibilities, only... the crashing of the waves, and the roiling storm. Concepts she could not only recognize, but cherish for how they echoed within her. It was only when the seer at her side spoke up that she finally turned to look his way, shaken out of her entranced state, distantly aware of the irony behind a siren being seduced.​

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This feels like home, spoke the Mandalorian in that melodious voice of hers, the words pouring from her lips without the need to open them as the glow of her eyes became fiercer than ever before. Watching the smoke pour from the former Duke's lips, she followed the trail it as it lazily rose up towards the sky. Everything around them felt less real, and yet... so much more so. Even as they stood side by side near a raging storm, she felt only peace, and belonging. Alicio's voice felt somewhat akin to a peer into his nature, the feeling of it different from when it had echoed within her mind, prior to her plunge into- wherever they were.​

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Do you ever lose track of time in here?​

​

Alicio Organa ​

 

[Alicio Organa]

Alicio had been terrified, his first time visiting the Sea. He had been new to all things relating to the Force, thrust into the deep end with an impossibly vast vision of the Future. The image of the crashing waves, the angry clouds above, the feeling of helplessness, it had nearly made him despair. But Jenn was enraptured. The sight of it made Alicio smirk, just a little.

There is no time, in here. Alicio became thoughtful. It... is Time. That being said, my first vision felt like a few minutes to me, but when I finally opened my eyes, it had been two days.

The smoky seer concentrated a moment, the black water rippling around the pair, his cape flapping behind him with a sudden blast of wind. Around them, shapes began to manifest in the storm, bleeding and blooming into existence like watercolors. At first, they were ill-defined, but the sight slowly became distinct.

Okay. Watch carefully. And... don't get drawn in.

A grim vision manifested to one side of the pair. Much like Alicio had described previously to Jenn, an entire city was melting, slagging away into it's base colors. It's people, men, women, children, disappeared one by one, until there were only two shapes. One was Alicio- he looked to be nearly a decade younger, kneeling on the ground, hands outstretched like reaching claws to the sky. He was trying to keep the skyline, the people, together, by sheer stubbornness alone, and it was obvious it was a losing battle. The other person was smoky, mysterious...

"Aren't you afraid to lose it all?" the shadowed being crooned behind a silver mask, in the voice of the Song. "Let it go now. So it hurts less when it slips through your fingers."

Alicio, the real Alicio, frowned, memory overtaking him. Looking into the past could be dangerous. The emotions that it held... He shook it off, and glanced at the other side.

This vision was much more peaceful. An older, wiser Alicio baked bread in a Coruscanti apartment. In front of him was an older teen Vera Noble . They spoke about simple things, until an alarm was triggered. Details of this vision had already blurred, as specifics changed, and the future shifted, but some things remained as clear as ever. Including a silvery helmet, that the older Alicio studied in his hands.

"That's new?"

As it was brought up, Alicio studied the mask in his hands, something sad and distant in his dark eyes. "Not new. It's an old project of mine." With an audible k-thnk, Alicio pulled the helmet over his head, his grey eyes seeming to shine a cold blue from within the shadowed sockets.

The actual Alicio pursed his lips, looking to Jenn to gauge her reaction. Showing Jenn his visions felt... personal. Like he was showing her a hidden, guarded part of himself. Um... what do you think? Is it... doable?

Alicio turned her way, the trails of smoke that leaked from Alicio's mouth, playing past his ears and above his head, looking suspiciously like two long, thin horns.

- Jenn Kryze -

 

[Jenn Kryze]

Beskar'gam
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| Location | Time
| Objective | Watch

Once, Jenn would have met such a cryptic response with a scoff, dismissing it all as Jedi talk. Not anymore. Not now that she had forged such bonds of friendship with several Jedi, and learned to accept that the Force and its wielders were not to be hated for their nature. They could be righteous souls, as Alicio was, or they could use their power for great evil, as-​

​

Suddenly, it hit her like a punch to the gut, here, of all places. For all of her passionate talk of driving the Sith back and saving the galaxy from their evil, there were two she considered among her closest friends, in spite of the lack of contact in... quite a while, with either of them. More often than not, the Alor of Clan Kryze managed to ignore the issue altogether, the distance that had grown between herself and her friends making it far less difficult for her to do just that, but there was something about the realm they found themselves in that suddenly dredged up the contradiction at the worst possible time. It felt as if the hypocrisy of her own words might just become tangible, and the tides would swallow her whole for that sin.​

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It was the seer's actions that saved her, forcing her to focus on something else altogether. As the storm began to shift, the weight of her own contradictions was replaced by... memories, of a kind, playing out before her. All she could do was heed Alicio's words, resisting the powerful pull of the waters... and before long, she found herself absorbed in quiet contemplation of-​

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Perhaps one of the most vulnerable Alicio had ever been. A situation she would never have imagined being able to find the former count in, and yet, here he was, powerless and desperate, trying his best to delay the inevitable. To save more than any one soul could ever hope to. It was all so incredibly different from her own vision, and yet, in so many ways, she understood.​

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She, too, had been powerless. Faced with the end of everything she knew, a ruination beyond anything she could fathom. In this, they were alike, and she felt the bond of fellowship between the two of them deepened by the sheer trust shown to her by the Alderaanian seer.​

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Jenn had never had the chance of meeting Valery's children, and so the sight of the young girl accompanying Alicio remained an unknown variable to her - a fact that allowed her to focus a little more easily on that which the former count held in his hands. Something twisted in her gut, then, at the sight of a man she respected bringing the mask of something that caused him such anguish against his head. Uncertainty soon etched itself unto her features, her eyes betraying a touch of worry when she turned to look his way.​

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The Alor was hardly the most superstitious of women, but the sight of those twin tails of smoke marking a shape similar to the silver mask's horns left her feeling violently ill. Jenn hated fate almost as much as she feared the idea of it, and the thought of the kind man walking a path shrouded in such darkness... left her uncertain. Silence stretched on between the two, before she dared speak once more.​

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Yes. I believe I can make this for you, only... beware. We are all tormented by some manner of chimera of our own dreams, hopes, and fears. And if you must walk down a shrouded path, I would aid you as well as I can.​

​

Alicio Organa ​

 

[Alicio Organa]

Alicio couldn't help but steal looks at Jenn as they watched his visions together. He didn't fear her judgement, per se... but it wasn't easy. He did feel more vulnerable. Worried what she might think, at least in part.

Her eventual response betrayed her caution for his choices. Alicio looked back towards the visions, each having slowed down, until they were nearly still images, the storm still raging around them. The seer thought a moment, before responding. I received the first vision in my youth, when I was forging my crystal. I was... burdened with responsibility before I felt I was ready for it. The eyes of the galaxy were on me, innocent people were counting on me, and I was... deathly afraid, of letting them down. That pressure... it nearly cracked me.

The second, an ally of mine had just perished. I had become... anxious, of the future. Terrified of looking ahead, because I couldn't bear to think of what might happen next. My connection to the Force was strengthening, and I worried that if I saw something I couldn't change again, I... There was a sudden pause. A fight for control, before Alicio's face became neutral again. I would lose myself.

With a wave of his hand, the two visions bloomed and bled away, like watercolor paintings dipped in a pool. I've learned from both visions. This helmet isn't me... giving in to a dark path. This is... an acknowledgement of the harsh lessons that have molded me. It's a symbol that despite the shadows, and the pain, and my fear...

I yet stand.

Perhaps you can relate to that. He chanced a smirk.

- Jenn Kryze -

 

[Jenn Kryze]

Beskar'gam
​

| Location | Time
| Objective | See and hear

Wary as she was, the Alor was not without kindness; slowly, carefully, she brought her hand to rest on the seer's shoulder as he spoke, offering him a wordless, but no less meaningful show of solidarity. Clumsy as it might have been, the attempt made to keep him anchored was as earnest as the rest of her, although... the feeling of claws resting on one's shoulder may not be quite as comforting as the Mandalorian had hoped. Shifting came to her more and more naturally, these days, and she obtained more and more inhuman characteristics as the months went by. Gills, a tail - those were but the first attributes she acquired under the care of the Sith. Keeping herself into a form most closely approaching that of a human was proving more and more difficult with time.​

​

I understand duty, and expectations. As do I the burden of facing fate... I have raged against the cruel hand of destiny time and time again, strained against the bonds she uses to keep us locked unto the path chosen for us. ​

​

There was a deep, almost inhuman rage behind the siren's song, and yet... each and every word she spoke echoed with so much more than merely wrath and resentment. Within this realm of sea and storm, the Ersansyr's beauty was almost terrifying, the fierce glow of her eyes just as captivating as it proved to be nigh unbearable to hold - to say nothing of how scales formed around her eyes, spreading along to the sides... with each blink of an eye, they seemed to shift from one shade of blue to the next.​

​

It is a sign of strength, to cry out against fate. To refuse the song she spins for you, and blaze the trail to your own redemption... or damnation. And you, Alicio, possess a greater will than most. If this is but acceptance, then I trust your judgement.​

​

Flicking her gaze from the sight of those stilled visions to the man she stood alongside with, she gave but a slow nod, that scaled, clawed (had it always been webbed?) hand of hers withdrawing from his shoulder as she answered his smirk with one of her own, the rows of sharp teeth rendering the gesture a little sinister. And yet, for all of those changes in her appearance, her form reflecting her soul, she was still undeniably... Jenn. The Mandalorian who spoke at length with the former Count on the difficult topics of peace, justice and honor- who swallowed her pride and admitted her mistake in putting loyalty above all else.​

​

We all stand here.​

​

It was a simple declaration, yet one that seemed to hang in the air. Never had she been more sure of herself, more proud of the friendships she kept, more confident in the path that lie before them.​

​

Alicio Organa ​

 

[Alicio Organa]

Despite the unexpectedly piscine nature of the hand on his shoulder, Alicio took comfort in the touch regardless. His smirk deepened into something more warm, more genuine, the trails of smoke dancing from the corners of his mouth, even as he looked away from Jenn's suddenly entrancing image, and into the inky depths beyond.

Acknowledgement isn't acceptance. Not yet. Even after all these years, he was still learning the same lessons, over and over again. Fear of the future, struggling with the burden of responsibility... both anxieties would stay with him, for as long as he lived. But... I'm trying.

We all stand here.

A pause. A moment of deep introspection. Then, Alicio Organa nodded.

And the Sea bled away around them, and disappeared.

Introspect's crystal fell over on it's side, resting once more in the palm of his hand, growing silent and cold once more. Alicio released a deep breath, looking around. The village around them seemed... normal. As if no time had passed at all. Interesting.

The monarch returned his lightsaber crystal to it's casing, and replaced the blade in his cloak. Checking to first make sure that Jenn was returning to the Now alright, he folded his arms in front of his chest. "I... brought my own materials. Pieces from this armor, that I don't use. Songsteel, if you've heard of it."

"This isn't just a commission, either. I want to... help you make it. However I can."

- Jenn Kryze -

 

[Jenn Kryze]

Beskar'gam
​

| Location | The Sea The Forge
| Objective | Collect one's thoughts; Bring life to metal

Not yet, no. It... took me a long time, to accept what I had become. To make the conditions imposed unto me my own. But, you and I... we are more than what our forefathers were. More than Organa, more than Kryze. ​

​

There was something about Alicio that never failed to put Jenn's mind at ease, something that called to her, convinced her that she could afford a measure of vulnerability. Ever since the two of them had first met, the mighty Alor had treated him with respect, even as they stood on opposing sides; during his captivity, she had made the first step on the road she now walked, baring her face so that the two might speak as equals within the safety of a fortress now abandoned. The former Count had never lacked in a strong moral fiber - even now, she remembered his rebuttal when she spoke of defending the worlds taken by the Crusaders. How he called her out, pointing out that her logistical support enabled the aggression of her peers.​

​

Alicio was principled, yet kind. Had he not come to dissuade her from leaving the reaches of the known Galaxy, when she called for him to say her farewells? Time and time again, he proved himself beyond trusted, treating her rare displays of vulnerability delicately indeed. More than anyone else she had grown to befriend, the King of Alderaan had come to know a great deal about her... after all, there were none other she had come to trust with the complex depths of what she felt for Natasi.​

​

Distantly familiar and beautiful as the sea around the both of them had proven to be, Jenn welcomed their departure from it. The more time the two of them spent in this realm of sea and storm, the deeper the call of the water... a siren she may be, the Ersansyr was cruelly aware of just how deep her yearning for the cool embrace of the world below the waves could be. A weakness, perhaps, but dissociating it from the rest of her would be akin to ripping out a shard of her soul.​

​

---

When the two of them found themselves back within the comfortable bounds of reality, the Alor's eyes immediately flicked down to look at her hands, her blood running cold at the sight of her hands. The fabric of her gloves stretched to accommodate the unmistakable shape of those sharp, claw-like nails of hers, and the damp feeling left very little doubt in her mind; scales doubtlessly covered her hands, just as they did a portion of her face. Turning away from Alicio, she went to grab her tools, magnetic prongs in one hand and gravity hammer in the other.​

​

Not now. Not now. Not now.​

​

Alicio was worthy of trust, but there were some things she could not confront just yet. The increasing changes to her body were a topic she preferred to avoid entirely. With no small amount of effort on her part, she fought against the tempest within her heart, forcing the essence of her very being back in its box; the scales receded, her fingers took their original shape once more, and she breathed out a sigh of relief. Putting her tools down onto the anvil, she slipped her helmet back on, securing the seal with that characteristic hiss of pressurization. When she turned back to look at the Senator, there stood the mysterious, faceless visage of the Alor's helm- unknowable and weathered.​

​

"Songsteel... yes, I am familiar. I believe I've had the chance to work with it before - although beskar is the hallowed metal of my people, mastering my craft as a metalsmith asked that I look into other materials capable of withstanding the full might of a lightsaber. If you intend to fight the Sith, few metals are more worthy of protecting your body."​

​

Her fingers closed around a pulley, then, and the forge roared to life as she tugged it.​

​

"Songsteel is a difficult material to work with - particularly when it comes to more intricate shapes. But you may help with that, I think... look to your left- you will find tools I reserve for precision work. Rarely used. While I hammer the metal into shape, you can use them to trace the lines along the contours of the mask- and most importantly, mark out the shape of the pair of holes you will use to see through."​

​

Alicio Organa ​

 

[Alicio Organa]

Alicio's eyes followed Jenn with some confusion as she suddenly turned away, tasting a spike of anxiety in the air. Whatever it was, it receded quickly enough, though the Mandalorian's helmet received a questioning glance from the senator. He didn't ask about the sudden shift in her mood- but that didn't mean he wasn't curious.

He aimed that curiosity at the forge around them, for now. Alicio set down the pieces of songsteel they would be using- melted down into silvery bars to be reforged anew- and let hungry eyes drink in the various tools, the workbenches, and the sudden roar of the flames. Then, he began taking off his outer-wear. His cloak, he unfastened, and gently folded, placed to the side. His jacket, with it's shining armor pieces, he did the same, revealing a plain black shirt underneath.

He planned on getting his hands dirty. No need for his armor to be caught in the crossfire.

"Understood," he said, examining the tools as they were pointed out to him. "I'll follow your lead."

He would do as directed by the forgemaster, to the best of his abilities. And while he wasn't the best at making helmets... being able to see exactly how his actions would affect the final product was a useful skill to have.

- Jenn Kryze -

 

[Jenn Kryze]

Beskar'gam
​

| Location | Onderon,
| Objective | A test of will

Throughout their long history, the children of Mandalore's reputation for warfare was only equaled by their penchant for creating the most exquisite of weapons and armor; many of its smiths, Jenn included, thought of the democratization of weaponry as a disaster. Standard-issue equipment was all but anathema to a people whose individuality was expressed through their wargear, after all, particularly so when it came to those among them who never cared to reveal their faces before other living beings, may they be vode or aruetiise.​

​

Jenn, for her part, took the pieces of songsteel offered to her in hand. The way her thumb dragged over the surface, as if searching for any imperfection, how her gaze looked across its surface with the sharpness of a hawk... this? This was her element, a realm unto itself where she was unequivocally in control. An antithesis to the dream of storm and water Alicio had just taken the two of them but a few moments prior. It was not long before the songsteel was carefully placed into a recipient of raw iron and brought over the blue flame, that it may be reforged into something fit for a king.​

​

A king in disguise, but a king nonetheless.​

​

It was as the metal returned to a more easily-manipulated state that the surreal experience began. Naught but mist forming around their feet at first, the Alor's aura of mystery only grew as she lazily circled the forge's fire, stopping only when she and Alicio stood on opposite sides. When had the world beyond the threshold of the Forge become impossible to perceive? Was this a conscious act on the Ersansyr's part, or merely something passively generated through her nature as an untrained Force Sensitive of great potential? Difficult questions to answer, all, and Jenn remained tight-lipped on the matter. She spoke only when it was precisely needed for her to do so.​

​

"People are much like steel. They are not born great, but forged unto the anvil of war."​

​

CLANG!​

​

As soon as the Forgemistress' gravity hammer hit the metal, the full extent of her power was made clear, unfocused as it may be. Where Alicio was granted the foresight of a seer, Jenn invoked that which she sought to tear herself and her Clan from; the past. With each hammer-blow, another vision of Alicio's past formed in the mist around the forge. Regrets given form, desperate times brought back to test him, to see if he could keep his focus on the work of the woman before her, and the promise it offered.​

​

CLANG!​

​

How many precise strikes of that hammer had it been, now? Time flowed differently here, just as it did within the realm she had followed the seer into. It was all so... stagnant. Had it been mere minutes, or hours, before Jenn took the rough shape of the helmet with her magnetic tongs, bringing it over to Alicio with slow, meaningful steps. The general shape of it was there, but it was missing a few crucial details; the holes through which its wearer might see, and the intricate details Jenn had caught on to. Work meant for precision tools; the very same she had entrusted the former Count with.​

​

"War has made me who I am. It has tested me, with each battle; made me stronger, yes, but also wiser. Such is the blessing I would bestow upon this helm; may it bring you clarity. May it let you act with the wisdom I know you possess. And when the time comes... may it be put aside, until it is needed again."​

​

Alicio Organa ​

 

[Alicio Organa]

Alicio couldn't decide when exactly the world shrank.

All that existed was the light of the forge fire, and the two beings across it. Everything else had turned to murky fog, untold distractions swimming in it's depths. Alicio kept his eyes ahead, jaw set, an indescribable emotion on his face. Even as the phantoms of his past began to emerge.

From the corners of his eyes, the visions began, synced with the beating of Jenn's hammer. In this mist, he saw his father, a man that looked startlingly like an older Alicio, pointing away sternly before being engulfed in fire. An older man felt to the ground, pierced by a blaster bolt. A dark figure rising from their grave, leaving him with choking ash in his mouth. A young woman, a former friend, managing a joke before succumbing to his blade. A white-haired Shi'ido, peppered full of rounds for the sake of his mercy. A humanoid shape, turning into slag, because he dared to believe in hope. Alicio's severed hand falling to the floor, the cold of the Dark Side on the air. A dear Sithspawn friend, incinerated in dragonfire, an entire planet conflagrating behind him...

So much anguish, so much fear, had tainted his past. He fought viciously for a bright future, but there were times he felt he might lose all hope. Times he'd wondered if any of his fighting mattered. If he was the common variable in all this destruction. If all the misfortune that followed him, the deaths of his friends, was his fault.

Alicio kept his attention firmly on the Forge, despite the prickle of moisture in the corner of his eye. Despite it all... the flame of hope kept flickering. Bruised, battered, nearly snuffed... but never extinguished.

"War has made me who I am. It has tested me, with each battle; made me stronger, yes, but also wiser. Such is the blessing I would bestow upon this helm; may it bring you clarity. May it let you act with the wisdom I know you possess. And when the time comes... may it be put aside, until it is needed again."

Alicio nodded with purpose, and got to work. He didn't work with tools often, but his hands moved with supernatural surety, scrawling long lines across the songsteel's surface. The smoky nothingness around them shifted and roiled, the sound of the Sea shading their reality. A line of smoke trailed up from the former count's mouth, as his part was written into the metal.

Shaped by the past... guided by the future.

New visions appeared, frightening in their obscurity, smeared and bleeding as if by watercolor. A mantle of many colors, forced upon his shoulders, crushing his form. A dark claw, wrapping itself around Alderaan. A familiar lightsaber, smashed to bits, a bloodied body at it's side...

Alicio reached out with his hand, letting his palm hover over the shining metal. He closed his eyes, and felt the tumultuous Force around them. He paused, took a deep breath, and gave.

After a few seconds of discord, it was as if the melody of his soul, and the melody of the helmet, hummed perfectly in tune.

Finally, Alicio opened his eyes, the shell of an ornate masque lying on the workbench.

"It's done."

- Jenn Kryze -