First Reply The Azure Respite.

[Serina Calis]

The Azure Respite.
Location: Manaan.
Objective: Relax.
Allies: ???
Opposing Force: ???
Tags: ???

Enough is simply enough.
​

The sky above Manaan stretched wide and endless, painted in hues of deep cerulean and shimmering gold as the sun dipped toward the horizon. The ocean world was a tapestry of liquid sapphire, its vast waters stretching beyond sight, undisturbed save for the occasional ripple of a breeze gliding across its surface. The gentle lapping of the tide against the floating platforms of the resort was a melody all its own, slow and rhythmic, like the steady heartbeat of the planet itself.

Serina Calis sat alone on the balcony of her private suite, a half-full glass of wine dangling loosely between her fingers. The bottle—an exquisite vintage, sourced from the distant vineyards of Naboo—rested nearby on the polished wooden table, its dark glass glistening under the warm glow of ambient lighting. She had barely touched it. The first sip had been smooth, rich, delicate. The second had been nothing more than an afterthought.

For the first time in what felt like years, Serina allowed herself to simply exist. No plotting. No masks. No layers of deception. She had come here under an assumed name, of course, because she had to. But beyond that, there was nothing—no Sith, no Jedi, no hidden agendas, no inevitable conflict. Just the sound of the waves, the distant murmur of guests enjoying their evening, and the feeling of the sea breeze brushing against her skin.

She took a slow breath and exhaled, releasing some of the tension knotted in her chest. It had been too much. Everything. The weight of secrets she had uncovered, the betrayals, the endless, ceaseless manipulations of those who sought to twist the galaxy to their own ends, like herself. She had seen too much, done too much, had her hands stained in ways she wasn't sure could ever be washed clean. And for what? Power? Knowledge? Survival?

All of it.

And none of it.

She lifted the glass to her lips and took another sip, savoring the way the flavor lingered on her tongue. It was a quiet indulgence, one of the few luxuries she allowed herself. She had always found a certain poetry in wine. The way it carried the essence of where it was grown, the labor of those who harvested the grapes, the careful process of its creation—it was a kind of art. A rare beauty in a galaxy that so often felt cold and cruel.

Serina leaned back in her chair, her gaze drifting out over the open waters. Even in the fading light, the ocean shimmered with an ethereal glow, the surface occasionally broken by the silhouettes of native Selkath gliding beneath the waves. The resort itself was a marvel of sleek architecture and natural integration—floating terraces, translucent walkways, and subtle lighting that reflected off the water like scattered stars. It was peaceful. Almost unreal.

For so long, she had been running. Chasing after truth. Chasing after power. Trying to carve out a place for herself in a galaxy that refused to give her one. And in doing so, she had lost something—something she wasn't sure she could ever get back. She had always known she was different. Smarter. More ambitious. She had never been content with the role of a mere Jedi, and yet, she had never truly embraced the Sith either. She had carved her own path between the two, but where had it led her?

To war. To suffering. To revelations that had shattered the foundation of everything she had once believed.

And yet, for tonight, none of that mattered.

She didn't care about the Jedi. She didn't care about the Sith. She didn't care about whatever power plays were unfolding across the stars, nor the weight of her ambitions pressing against her back like an unseen hand urging her forward.

Tonight, she was just Serina. A woman sitting alone, listening to the ocean, drinking wine, and watching the sun slip beneath the waves.

The thought almost made her laugh. If anyone saw her like this—truly saw her—they wouldn't believe it. Not the Jedi. Not the Sith. Not the allies or enemies who whispered her name in hushed tones. They all saw her as something more, something contradictory. A force to be reckoned with, yet weak. A cunning mind lurking behind a beautiful smile, yet bitter and ugly. But none of them had ever seen this side of her. The one who, in a rare and quiet moment, could find solace in something as simple as the sound of the tide.

Maybe two of them had. But to dwell on such thoughts was assuredly oblivion.

Serina closed her eyes for a long moment, letting the gentle sea breeze wash over her. It smelled of salt and warmth, of something ancient and enduring. When she opened them again, the sky had darkened further, the stars beginning to flicker to life overhead.

She could stay here forever.

But she wouldn't.

She couldn't.

Because even now, in this perfect, fleeting moment, she knew the galaxy would come calling for her again. It always did. And when it did, she would have no choice but to answer.

But not tonight.

Tonight, she would drink her wine.

Tonight, she would listen to the ocean.

Tonight, she would be Serina.

And for now, that was enough.

 

[Mystra Midnight]

​

Theme: The Devil you Know
Tags: Serina Calis

---

​

The voice of the god came calling and it was once again time for Mistress of Midnight Mystra to remerge. It had been so long since she had felt the call from her maker, it wanting her to bring a reckoning. Yet it wasn't reckoning to the world of Manaan, her God destruction didn't want her to destroy a world but instead individuals. The question was why, the herald of destruction was not one who followed her god unquestioningly especially when it had been so long since she last heard it's call.

Mystra went over the list mentally of the names, some had hidden themselves well and others were well guarded. Yet the ancient magicks of sight and tracking would eventually find them all. It meant the reckoning would eventually come to all the names on the list one such name had brought her to Manaan.

Mystra stood near the seashore staring out at the waves and lightening the sky as the light faded from this side of the planet. Mystra empty her mind and let the feeling of the world itself wash over her as she stood their looking out on the waves. A world of a wild ocean ruined by sentient life's need to corrupt everything.

She wished her god had asked her to wipe this world of all life rather than a single one. It deserved better than pollution living brought to it. The diminutive ghost continued to linger looking out at the ocean before them taking the feeling of the world around them. It hungered for destruction but knew it could not indulge this day.

It was strange for Mystra always at odds with the God she worshiped but always coming to it's call no matter where it led because just like her maker she thirsted for an end to the madness. She sought the silence of Galaxy devoid of life and devoid of life's pollution. Her destruction not the same as the god she served but similar enough that sometimes they did agree.

Now the question came how to draw out the prey that it's God had called for sacrifice. Mystra cleared her throat and then let out a siren's call. A sweat melody that might draw someone in.

"Come to my shore child

Rest your weary bones on my banks

Let the salt sea take your pain

Drown yourself in the relaxing waves

Come to me let my tides carry you.

Come to me little child"​

 

[Serina Calis]

The Azure Respite.
Location: Manaan.
Objective: Relax.
Allies: ???
Opposing Force: ???
Tags: Mystra Midnight

Enough is simply enough.
​

Serina's fingers tightened around the stem of her wine glass as the melody drifted to her on the sea breeze. It was haunting, a whisper woven into the salt-tinged air, slithering through the stillness of the evening. It didn't belong here, amidst the tranquil rhythm of Manaan's waters. It was too deliberate, too unnatural—like something pulled from the depths of a forgotten abyss.

She did not turn toward the sound immediately. Instead, she exhaled softly and tilted her head, letting the last sip of wine linger on her tongue before swallowing. For a brief moment, she had been at peace. For a brief moment, she had allowed herself the illusion of escape. And yet, the galaxy refused to let her go.

The call was meant for her.

Serina rose from her seat on the balcony, her movements slow, measured. The air carried the distant hum of resort life, laughter and conversation echoing from nearby floating terraces, but none of it felt real anymore. Not against the weight of the summons pressing into her mind like an echo of something ancient.

She stepped barefoot onto the cool stone of the balcony's edge, eyes narrowing as she gazed out over the ocean. It was a beautiful thing, this world. A vast, untamed force that existed before her and would exist long after she was gone. And yet, even the tides could be swayed, manipulated, called upon.

Like this voice.

Like the presence that lingered at the shore.

Serina had spent enough time around whispers in the dark to recognize the cadence of a calling. This was no ordinary voice—it was something steeped in power, wrapped in purpose. A summons. A challenge. An invitation.

She was not in the mood for games.

The air around her seemed to still as she reached out—not with her hands, but with something deeper, something unseen. The Force rippled outward, a silent current, stretching past the gentle waves to the shore beyond. Searching. Feeling.

And there it was.

A presence, small in form but vast in intent. A shadow at the water's edge, laced with something old. Something destructive. Serina had no name for it, but she knew its kind well enough.

But Serina was no child to be lured by pretty words, after all, temptation was her game.

A soft, knowing smirk curved her lips as she finally answered the call—not with words, but with presence.

She let the Force surge through her, filling the empty spaces between the air, the sea, the melody itself. Her voice was not song but steel, a sharp and deliberate intrusion against the gentle seduction of the siren's whisper.

"I do not drown so easily."

The words carried no venom, only amusement—a quiet defiance, a refusal to be drawn like a moth to a flame.

Serina stepped forward, the glow of the resort fading behind her as she descended toward the bottom, unhurried, her expression unreadable. She did not yet know who had come for her, or why. But if they had come seeking sacrifice—

They had chosen the wrong name from their list.

 

[Mystra Midnight]

​

Theme: The Devil you Know
Tags: Serina Calis

​

---

It is coming, Mystra told herself as it called out to her. Interesting these people so full of themselves, pride and arrogance blinding them from the truth. She could feel the presence of Serina approaching but Mystra calmly looked out to the sea. She didn't turn to look for the presence to coming from behind her.

"There are only two types of people that don't drown." Mystra spoke to her without turning, there was no fear even if Serina struck out to stab her in the back. The diminutive beings voice soft and calm, the only thing that eclipsed the illusion was the destructive nature in the soul.

"The sociopath and the psychopath. Everyone else drowns in regret, failure, and pain. Some coop by drowning themselves in booze, drugs, and other vices but it is still drowning. As for the sociopath and Psychopath one doesn't feel anything and the other can turn it off like a light switch." People usually destroyed themselves and those around them more than a bullet to the brain pan ever could.

"I don't know much about you, just a name in a dream my god sent me. So, you must have done something to gain her wrath, she has been silent for nearly thirty years. I wonder what it is that you have done?" Finally, Mystra turned to face Serina, Mystra face painted in black and white paint and her eyes pure black. Her clothing now in full display, she was dressed in simple black robes and didn't seem to be carrying any weapons. However, as she turned the face under the paint would be familiar in passing to Serina though older not the girl she had met once. "What is it you regret?"

Mystra was curious as to why this one had been chosen as a sacrifice, what she had done to deserve the gods ire. She would indeed kill this woman, but she had all the time in the world muse and question. "Or are you a sociopath or a psychopath?

 

[Serina Calis]

The Azure Respite.
Location: Manaan.
Objective: Relax.
Allies: ???
Opposing Force: ???
Tags: Mystra Midnight

Enough is simply enough.
​

Serina stopped a few paces away, her bare feet sinking slightly into the cool, damp sand. The ocean's tide whispered against the shore, the water rolling in and out, as if breathing in time with the world itself. She had seen and met many strange things in her life—creatures of darkness, acolytes of forgotten gods, zealots who believed themselves agents of destiny. This one was different.

It's voice was quiet, calm, yet laced with something volatile beneath the surface. It was the kind of voice that belonged to someone who had long since made peace with destruction, not merely as a tool but as a fundamental truth. And yet, despite the weight of the words, despite the blackened gaze and the deathly presence, Serina only smiled.

A slow, deliberate smile, touched with something knowing.

"That's an interesting philosophy," she mused, tilting her head. "But I think you're oversimplifying. Drowning is more than regret, failure, or pain. And those who claim they do not drown—they're often the first to sink."

She let the words settle, watching the woman before her, studying the face painted in black and white. Serina recognized it now, in some distant, passing way. A girl she had met once, long ago, now twisted into something… else. Older. Touched by whatever god had chosen her as its herald.

"A name in a dream, you say?" Serina's tone carried no fear, only curiosity. "That's fascinating. And what did your god whisper to you when it gave you my name? Did it send you a vision of the sins I've committed? The lives I've ruined? The choices I've made that have sent ripples across this galaxy?"

She took another step closer, unafraid.

"You ask what I regret. That's an interesting question." Serina's voice softened, her blue eyes glinting in the fading light. "And yet, I wonder… does your god regret calling on you after so long? Does it ever wonder if the hands it chose will falter?"

She let the question hang for a moment, then chuckled softly. "You seem very sure of yourself. So tell me, little ghost—do you think I am a sociopath? A psychopath? Or something else entirely?"

Serina didn't give her a chance to answer before stepping forward again, close enough now that she could see the fine cracks in the face paint, the gleam of Mystra's darkened eyes. Close enough that the sea breeze carried the faint scent of something ancient and strange, something not entirely of this world.

She leaned in slightly, her voice barely above a whisper.

"If you're here to kill me, you should do it now. Otherwise, we can skip the philosophy and get to the real question—"

Her gaze sharpened, piercing, her presence in the Force pressing outward like the slow pull of the tide before a storm.

"—What does your god fear?"

 

[Mystra Midnight]

Theme: The Devil you Know
Tags: Serina Calis

---

“Over simplified, for the weak minded.” A wicked smirk crossed the figures face as it stared at up at the woman calmly approaching her with out fear or trepidation. “Your own words speak a lot, those who claim not to drown sink first. You do not drown easily so must sink fast.”

Mystra did not move as the prey stalked closer and closer, just kept her dark eyes on Serina’s eyes. Mystra listened as her questions were answered with questions which did not impress and told her more than she wanted to know.

In the first few minutes of conversation, she had already figured out why her God had given this name to her. The only thing this woman before her had going for her was her lack of fear. Yet barbarian tribes of Ewoks didn’t have fear either, it didn’t make them intelligent creatures.

The being tried to get at her nerves with goading her about her God with out understanding or knowing it’s nature fully. Mystra knew her god well uncaring, cold, and destructive. Though it had not called on her in a long time it was not the first time that had happened. They had a peculiar relationship; they knew each other better than anyone could.

“You are prideful, arrogant, and unintelligent. The way you answer questions with questions tells me you think you are cunning. I don’t need my God to tell me what you have already revealed.” Mystra wasn’t underestimating the person before her just observing and commenting on what she saw before her. “But to answer your question just a name marked for destruction.”

It was true Mystra did not know why those marked with destruction were marked as such. Her own curiosity wanted to know but, on some level, she knew some of the names might not even have a reason with her God just random names pulled out of a hat.

She let the woman approach and whisper in her ear goading her, Serina thinking her question was some gotcha. Mystra turned her head slightly and smiled at her before speaking.

“Not you, or else she would have come herself.” Mystra laughed a wicked little cackle, her God loved facing her fears to wash them away herself. Mystra knew her role well when the maker called, these worlds, these people were annoyances but not ones her God would bother dirtying her hands with.

She thought for a second about lunging at Serina with her teeth bared like a wild animal and biting the woman's face off. It would have been a mad display of her God's will one that would have marred such a beautiful face. Yet it was to soon to attack, to expected and would only make thise creature before her think she got under Mystra's skin.

"Killing you, was not what I was asked to do, it might be a by product of destruction that I cannot avoid. But as for what you are from what I see, just a lost child not sith, not jedi, not anything else of consequence. A slave to the will and to a fate your arrogance won't let you change. Unwilling or unable to do what needs to be done. Am I close Serina?"

 

[Serina Calis]

The Azure Respite.
Location: Manaan.
Objective: Relax.
Allies: ???
Opposing Force: ???
Tags: Mystra Midnight

Enough is simply enough.
​

Serina did not move as Mystra spat her words, as the self-proclaimed harbinger of destruction wrapped herself in grandiosity and veiled threats. She did not sneer, did not lash out, did not even shift in response to the baiting. Instead, she merely smiled—a slow, knowing thing, the kind of smile that was not meant for this moment alone but for something far greater.

Something inevitable.

The tide swelled behind them, the ocean whispering against the shore like a breath caught in the throat of the universe itself. The breeze stirred through the darkness, and Serina let it roll over her, let it wrap around her like a cloak woven from the silent acknowledgment of the galaxy itself. It was listening. It was waiting.

And so, she spoke.

"You believe yourself a servant of destruction. You believe yourself the hand of an uncaring god, one who marks names and beckons death upon the chosen. How quaint." Her voice was calm, steady—not cold, not heated, but something that held weight, something that did not demand attention but commanded it.

"You call me arrogant. You call me unintelligent. But you are here, standing before me, and you mistake that for superiority? That is the difference between you and me, little ghost. You serve something that does not care for you. You grovel before a thing that offers you no more understanding than a storm offers the fool who prays to be spared. You think it makes you powerful. You think that because you are the one with the knife, because you are the one with the names, you have authority over something so vast, so infinite. But you are wrong."

She took a single step forward.

"You are nothing more than a blade without a hilt, a weapon without a mind. You are not destruction. You are not even a force of nature. You are merely the trembling whisper of something that does not even deem you worthy of an explanation."

Her eyes burned like twin stars against the dark.

"You think I am a child? That I am lost?" A soft, almost amused breath left her lips. "No, my dear. I have never been more found."

The Force swelled around her then—not as lightning, not as fire, not as fury, but as a weight. A presence. The air grew thick, charged, not with rage but with something deeper, something insidious. It was not an explosion—it was something creeping, something slipping into the cracks, something so intrinsic to the very nature of existence that it could not be stopped, only accepted.

"You speak of drowning. But what you fail to see, what you refuse to see, is that I do not sink—I spread. I seep into the foundations of this galaxy, into its bones, into its soul. I do not need to strike you down, because you are already lost, already rotted, already mine."

Her voice did not rise, but the very atmosphere around them seemed to darken, as though the very idea of light had become an afterthought.

"You see, little ghost, I am no servant. I am no slave to fate. I am no mere Sith, no exiled Jedi clinging to broken ideals. I am the thing that creeps beneath the doors of kings and gods alike, the thing that festers behind every throne, every temple, every desperate plea for salvation. I am the whisper in the back of every mind that tells them they could have more—that they should have more."

Another step.

"Your god marks names. I write them. Your god calls for destruction, and yet it sends a fragile little thing like you to carry it out in its stead. I do not serve destruction, because destruction is wasteful. No, I take. I consume. I infect."

A breath. A slow, deliberate pause.

"I am Corruption."

The word itself was not shouted, not declared with fanfare, but spoken with such undeniable certainty that it might as well have been the first law of the universe.

The tide rolled higher, the waves cresting and foaming in eerie synchrony with the cadence of her voice. The wind no longer whispered; it held its breath.

"And your god—whatever wretched thing it is—has made a mistake in calling my name."

Serina's expression did not change. The smile remained, the glint in her eyes unwavering, as if she were not speaking to Mystra alone, but to the force beyond her, the thing that had dared to reach out and touch something far, far beyond its comprehension.

"You call me a name in a dream. A sacrifice. But tell me, little ghost, what does a god do when the thing it sought to kill refuses to die? When the thing it tried to erase does not merely endure, but thrives? What happens when the infection is not purged but instead grows—deeper, stronger, inevitable?"

She leaned forward, just enough for her voice to drop to the barest of whispers.

"Your god fears me. I defied fate itself, multiple times."

The wind exhaled. The tide surged once more. The weight of her words, her presence, hung in the air like the promise of a plague yet to come.

Serina stepped back, slow and deliberate, her eyes never leaving Mystra's. The moment lingered, stretched between them like a tether—one that could be severed in an instant, or left to pull ever tighter.

"Now then," she mused, tilting her head ever so slightly. "Shall we test just how well your god prepared you for this?"