Private The Burning

[Anesia Jy'Vun]

"Again," a voice cut through the whipping of wind, the vivacious slaps of torrential rain, and the hunger of the ocean. It was as if the sound carried, then crashed like the waves. The only thing heard, or even felt in that moment.

Where hours before there were screams of the melody. Each vocal harsh and biting--- nipping at the storm. Each vocal drowned and soon after, the bodies followed. The feral licks of water drank them down into that inky blue belly.

An accepting sacrifice.

The song sang now was low, but a whisper, somehow carrying well off into the night. Perhaps it was the emotion that lulled the few left, perhaps instinct willing them to live. To fight.

Perhaps that song was meant to be a lullaby. A way to mourn those lost---both those by the sea and the people they once were. Or, they were merely directing their energy in a more proficient manner---one that meant their survival.

There must have been a hundred souls that drifted in that last day. That last night of training.

And so, the curtains of clouds began to reveal the first glimmer of morning. Bronze rays peeked and twinkled until the glow was blinding.

Still, she ordered them to stay their positions. It was not until their cheeks began to bake that they were awarded respite.

Silence rang like the loudest bell for what seemed like hours. Jy'Vun emptied a breath on her order.

"Fall. Out."

The bodies moved as one and disappeared into the building surrounding the shoreline. A mess hall awaited them, strewn with long auburn tables, low light, and broth filled bowls. It offered a calm ambiance and a warm, crackling fire. Their work for the day was done. They had earned rest.

For Anesia, the work was never done.

In one fell swoop, a hood donned the crown of her rain-battered tresses and shadowed her sun beaten face. A clean, ebony cloak shrouded the rest of the weather tattered attire that clung to her frame like tendons to bone.

It is time.

A quick, crisp...crackle and The Force had been restored. With it--- heartbeats that thundered in her ears.

 

[Anesia Jy'Vun]

Amity.

Such a feeling, a word that never described the woman or her actions.

Now though, it beseeched her sharp features and softened them somehow. From the plain of her forehead to the point of her chin were no longer etched in fury, but calm as she breathed deep of the sea air. Muddy, molten-gold eyes stared off past the gently rolling waves to the sun beginning to set. Hues of yellow and orange from their palest to brightest ebbed across the sky. Stark against the coming night. Stark as the acidic-emerald or alchemical-violet that once gazed upon the Galaxy. Forged from darkness, from power.

Still, Anesia pulled deep the salt-laced breeze in to her lungs and let out a calm breath that seemed to settle into her ancient bones. Earthen sight traced the jagged, behemoth mountains in the distance- ones that seemed little more than hills in the bright skyline. At the base, greenery glittered that rivaled gems of a similar color. A wild vegetation that would shift to exotic blue-purple blooms once the inky blanket of dusk loomed and offered only the moon's silver light.

She knew then that it would ensnare her. Both the memory of the sight and the pull-power of the moon. Thin, deft hands open and closed at the ghost memory before combing her digits in tufts of grass.

Anesia lazed back from the seat of the broken pillar, letting muslin-sheltered shoulders settle upon the trampled grass there while leather adorned legs stretched for comfort. The sounds of the barracks and nature inured around her. And even though The Force was stripped from her...and them here- by the Sith's own doing no less- a predator still knew.

Though there were no threats as of now, something was coming.

Irrevocably so and the tendrils of war whispered to her ears.

With a half-lidded gaze, she glanced to the shabby, stone building with the intricately carved wooden door. A door that was much older, but somehow seemed to fair far better against the storms than it's counterparts. Some would have thought it rather odd.... Anesia snorted and smiled wistfully. The sight fervently reminding the stars and... Roon that this one was not born a Monster.

But rather, beaten and molded into one and a crescent shimmer of violet twinkled in those eyes before they closed.

 

[Scherezade deWinter]

Location: Aboard Jace deWinter's ship.
Wearing: Armatura | The Forgemaster's Ring | Ring of Stasis | The Sofitor
Wielding: 7 Nozhi Blades | 1 Whimsy Knife | 1 Whimsy Witch Knife | 2 Nastirci Combat Knives | Clarion | Copero's Wail | Fire and Smoke | Combat Gauntlets | Tessen | 2 TOTT-001 Arc Light Blaster | 2 Dissuader KD-30 Pistols with Glitter Bullets | The Parasite
Tags: Anesia Jy'Vun Jace deWinter Ashla Vella

It was taking every inch and fiber in Scherezade's body not to start running around Jace's ship screaming. She gritted her teeth while smiling, doing that sniffing sound and nose tip motion again and again, as she had been for hours now, smelling them. Scenting them. Scenting the blood. It made her head spin with pleasant feelings and she wanted to bathe in it. To be around so many family members, and not only her sister, it was... It was amazing.

And they were going to get another family member! Well not a family in the strictest sense. Aunt Anesia wasn't related by blood, and honestly, not by marriage either, but she was still Aunt Anesia. And Aunt Anesia needed help.

Scherezade could easily have delivered hours long worth of monologues about what the Confederacy was doing and why it was better if they hadn't, but all that stopped mattering the moment the message was received. Aunt Anesia needed to be removed from Roon, and with the whole Confederacy First stuff, it was going to be tricky to get her out. Or atleast, they'd thought at first that it would be tricky. Within moments, Scherezade had constructed one of her genius evil plans, and out they were.

Jace's ship now contained thousands of Kaadu, creatures from Naboo that Scherezade had once farmed. She sold the farm when the time to leave the Southern Systems had come, but she still had all her old contacts; the farm workers, the Kaadu trainers, the suppliers… It had not been hard to use the connections of their connections in turn and have most of the Kaadu industry get together to deliver her with the birds. Kaadus were common enough, and all the paperwork had been signed as donations for the purpose of research and development.

Perhaps in a few months, all those old contacts would suddenly find lavish bonuses in their bank accounts. Maybe not.

The birds crowded the ship, their smell… Well, Scherezade would definitely be noticing it harder if it weren't for the scent of deWinter blood being so rampant in that place. Everything in her just wanted to jump on both Jace and Ashla and hug them and ask them about their lives and maybe throw a pyjama party too, but now was hardly the time.

"We're going to break atmo' into Roon in a few minutes," she said, managing to shake most of the dream like state from her voice, "I'm going to be hiding on the ship. I don't know how unwelcome my face is in purple territory, and I don't think this is the day to find out. But comm me if I'm needed. I'll jump out of cover if Anesia or you guys are in danger."

Reaching for her belt, Scherezade removed a small brown bag, and opened it, the aroma serving to cover up the smell of the birds ever so slightly, and offered everyone to grab some cubes, "Remember, Anesia is supposed to bring us some expensive looking stuff, and then all this cargo is going to Alderaan, as a gift from the viceroy to the Queen of Andelaan. And there's plastic suits waiting for them to keep the bird poodoo out of their nose hairs and faces."

 

[Ashla Vella]

“I don’t know… that’s a little weird to think that, Jerry.” Ashla randomly stated while looking up at one Kaddu. Then looked over to another, “Well, I never met anybody that wanted to be like the Kwa on my arm, George.” Came as a reply to a noise another Kaddu. She continued to chat up the Kaddu around her about her life, her clan, meeting deWinters, and follow one around all the time while a blue mist slowly creeped from her left arm down to the floor.

It was a chatting party among her and the new bird friends. The party only ended when a non-Kaddu voice dominated over all of them. That was fine, Ashla needed the time to adjust from birds to her own species. The blue mist crawled back to her Kwa sewed skin. Shaking her head to clear it a little, Ashla skipped back to where there were people. Actual, living people for her to speak to or… for her case give Scherezade a lick on the cheek while grabbing some cubes for the smell. An act that Ashla still never learned from and did to people often.

Another lesson that was not learned came from the crinkled up face that Ashla gave. She had licked one of the cubes. It did not slow her down from moving on to the next thing that popped into her head. “Oh yeah… that’s nasty and it’s a good thing you are staying here.” Happily said while spinning around a few times, “Chad said that they are going to take the ship over while we are out. Then again, Jorge and George said that Chad was all talk anyways. So come with us… I want to see if they do steal the ship, please?”

Scherezade deWinter Jace deWinter Anesia Jy'Vun

 

[Xenro]

To create life.

Speculation existed since the dawn of time that if one could heal ones or replicate pieces of the human anatomy in a laboratory, it was possible to forge anew things that were lost entirely. In the ancient texts of the Sith, and in Holocrons that were stolen and sequestered away for millennia by the Jedi Order and subsequently lost, such blasphemies were commonplace. The Dark Lord of the Sith called Palpatine was once able to recreate himself from a clone template and turn back the sands of time to the apex of his power.

Xenro had toiled over the notes of many Sith Lords, though the leavings on Exegol were incomplete and did not detail anything at length. What he did learn, in no small part due to the records in the Core that remained from Imperial rule, was how the Sith utilized the small life-forms that existed in the blood to perpetuate, or even fully simulate life.

Scherezade deWinter called upon him to tap into his knowledge on the subject, and the Necromancer decided to oblige. The young woman's perception of the Galaxy was precipitated in conflict, and by giving her a new means to create it Xenro ultimately served his own interests.

In this instance it was a colleague. The Sith toiled discreetly where he was not in plain view, mixing several compounds hastily as the transport rocked in the vicious winds of Roon. "This is what you requested," he told the woman at last as he turned and strode toward where deWinter was seated, and he placed a phial delicately in her palm. "The reagents are exceptionally hard to come by, so there is only enough for one dose. The serum will stimulate the creation of new midichlorians within a sentient being, giving them sensitivity if they have none, or otherwise bolstering it. It would take me a prohibitive amount of time to gather the things I need again... so be cautious and do not waste it."

He turned. The hood that covered his face did not obscure his lips, or the youthful tint of his flesh. Xenro never showed his true form to anyone, and so, for him to be in this place today under the nose of a Galactic Superpower...

...Scherezade was a gamble, and time would tell if the risk would pay in dividends.

Anesia Jy'Vun | Jace deWinter | Ashla Vella

 

[Jace deWinter]

Location: Bridge of the Star Seeker
Equipment: Crossguard Lightsaber
Tags: Scherezade deWinter | Xenro | Ashla Vella | Anesia Jy'Vun


Everything that had lead to this moment had been a blur for Jace, his short time serving as the Viceroy for Scariff had shown him he had no love for politics, and even less for his fellow viceroys. It was only natural that he'd depart the position when the CIS changed their initiative and abandoned their alliances. It was long after he received a coded transmission, which lead to this.

Sitting in the pilot seat of his ship, listening to his young cousin sniff the air, and another talking to their rather impressive collection of birds, and the fourth member of the ensemble, who gave Jace a sense of unease, but at the very least appeared to be an ally. As the ship broke the atmosphere, he turned in his seat to watch Scherezade, nodding at her words before reaching up to rub his jaw in thought, "I don't know how long my credentials will last, I haven't exactly been public about my departure from the government. At the very least we should have a few hours." he grinned a little bit, this was the excitement he missed.

 

[Anesia Jy'Vun]

The night before, it rained.

Nothing heavy, more of a mist that caused the bright blooms to glisten. The greens were lush, sprawling from the base and creeping up the mountainside. While from afar, the flowers seemed little more than violet stars on the ground as opposed to the sky. As if mirroring it in a fairy tale sort of way.

Up close, they were the size of one's hand. Dazzling and bright among the darkness, shedding an ethereal light that the hooded figure wended her way about.

"I am here," it whispered.

There was no exact path, no stone carved steps. Not even trampled vegetation that might alert one to where they would go. Where they would find themselves. Only slight vibrations of power that kissed the air.

The sort of power to have you lost--- or found.

Roon held many mysteries, many echoes of the past, many ghosts. And before long, Anesia found herself in a cavern. One that seemed lost to time, but held the cool dampness of others.

There was no voice now, only a hum upon the slick rock walls. Ancient and magnetic. The tunnel narrowed then widened, those magical flowers lining the dirt path.

As much as the master felt herself lost, she could only move forward. Seemingly driven by a power much older than she. By a promise.

Those deft, pale fingers clenched the hems of her sleeves as the walls opened up. So tight, Anesia could feel the bite of her nails through the thick fabric.

Steam curled lazily from the hot spring centered in the cavern's room. Its haze in the form of beckoning talons.

"Here. I am here."

The molten pools of the woman darted, but her body stilled. Or braced. Braced for impact. It was as if the very ether of The Force filled her-- and at first, it was like a lover's touch.

Her high cheekbones now revealing a faint streak of red.

Heartbeats rang in her ears and pain seared through her body, then her head.

"No," Anesia thought to scream, but it came as a rasp. And even so, there was no being to strike with her demand.

A storm raged...waged within. Though she struck true, wrenching up her power from her belly, letting it uncoil and lash at the attacker--- again and again. With the full force of the Darkside. It seemed to only strengthen the other, their agents fusing and bonding like a metal might. A melding of power.

The very white of her teeth were revealed then, in a feral slash of rage. With each breath of rebellion, Anesia's body shivered. Her knees shook and sweat came in streams down her back with a song of defeat...of submission ready to sound at any moment.

One minute she was suffocating from the waves from within and the very next, the flames sought to consume her very being.

Madness.

The General thrust her hand forward, reaching as if to grasp the licks of fire. To form it to her liking. Violet and emerald wilted around her as she forced the the flame to life, to physical being and poured it in an arch. She collapsed to her knees, struggling to breath.

"No." But she had a feeling it was far from over and was yet to taste the true aftermath.

Even though the path to the cavern entrance was unknown, she forced one booted foot in front of the other. Anesia willed herself forward to find reprieve, albeit slowly. Desperately.

It felt like she wandered for days, when the rays of sunlight reached for her. Jy'Vun reached back.

_________
​

Thirteen days later

"They're coming," Kres said, elbow twisting his mouth nearer to her ear. News had came and went that bodies had washed upon different shores. No doubt from this season's storms. That had alerted them.

What brought them?

"I know," was all she replied. Was all she could reply while wrestling with a power that stretched her thin. Anesia had brought them, had put a glowing 'X' in her quest for power.

A sigh tumbled past.

Hope, she thought. When was the last time I had such a thing...when was the last time I requested aid?

The coms had been silent so far, but the refugees from Mandalore assured her their people would come. She had only offered a veiled smile and short nod as a reply.

Their days were limited, that she knew. To take on a vast force of The Confederacy was suicide. That is, if the powers that be did not get to them first. Did not break her first.

It was in that realization, Anesia hoped.

Scherezade deWinter • Ashla Vella • Jace deWinter • Xenro​

 

[Scherezade deWinter]

Location: Aboard Jace deWinter's ship.
Wearing: Armatura | The Forgemaster's Ring | Ring of Stasis | The Sofitor
Wielding: 7 Nozhi Blades | 1 Whimsy Knife | 1 Whimsy Witch Knife | 2 Nastirci Combat Knives | Clarion | Copero's Wail | Fire and Smoke | Combat Gauntlets | Tessen | 2 TOTT-001 Arc Light Blaster | 2 Dissuader KD-30 Pistols with Glitter Bullets | The Parasite
Tags: Anesia Jy'Vun Jace deWinter Ashla Vella Xenro

Scherezade's eyes widened as the lick to her cheek was delivered. Normally speaking, she was a woman who highly valued personal space. She didn't randomly hug or kiss her friend, and most of the time kept enough physical distance so that they could take cheese cubes when offered, and no more. Yet with the discover that Ashla was not just another person, but somehow carried deWinter blood… The Sithling's face relaxed and she smiled, wiping her cheek on the back of her sleeve.

"The birds aren't stealing the ship," she tried to reassure Ashla, "Look at them. They have no hands to touch the controls with, and their beaks are too wide. They'd just end up punching too many buttons at once, and the worst that will happen then is that the ship will spin a little bit. I think I agree with George and Jorge, Chad's full of it. Maybe we should make bantha wings out of him."

Her moment of silliness ended when Xenro approached, placing the fragile phial in her hands. Her fingers wrapped carefully around it and she nodded, listening carefully to the instructions of use. Before she could say anything, he'd already turned. It didn't keep her from uttering a thank you. She didn't have the details on what exactly happened that Aunt Anesia needed this. The message she'd received had been a vague one, the only clear part being that she needed a rescue off of Roon and away from Confederate space.

And Anesia was family. Scherezade didn't have too many of them alive and aware. And family, she would do anything for. Her powers and abilities were greater than what she had shown most of the 'verse thus - but when family members were involved, she rarely held back. Anyone trying to come up against those who for the time being were categorized as her people, was not going to see a tomorrow.

Looking to her newly discovered Jace deWinter, she smiled again. "You've got balls," she grinned, "I haven't even thought to try any credentials I had from the Knights Obsidian or the Ministry of Secrets. I'm saving it for a special day, like when I come to destroy their capital or something like that."

Hopping back into her seat, she stared at the screens, chewing on a cheese cube.

"There!" the Sithling jumped after a few moments, pointing to where the maps showed what should've been a castle, but was more like ruins. Aunt Anesia lived in that?! Scherezade could claim her living situation was shabby because no one gave half a crap about her being an actual princess, but Anesia was a viceroy. Scherezade had guarded enough of those pots, she knew they weren't treated in that manner.

"What the krak happened here?" she asked out loud, and focused on what she saw through the front shields. She really hoped she wasn't going to have to perform a Transfer Essence for her aunt. She didn't know her aunt well enough, and there was no way she could let the Confederacy think they succeeded in killing one of hers. Even if they didn't know about it.

 

[Ashla Vella]

Scherezade deWinter Jace deWinter Xenro Anesia Jy'Vun

Maybe it was true, or not but those birds could be deceptive. If life can find a way, then what is keeping the birds from actually taking over. Ashla had her eyes on them. She even gestured towards them with pointing at her eyes then at the birds. Tricky tricky those birds could be in Ashla’s mind which led to her ignore others that spoke up. Everything else seemed boring compare to a birdy uprising. Even if it was all made up in her head, it was about amusing her. All those years living on ships had driven her to find the littlest thing to amuse her mind.

Ashla’s focus was altered when excitement came from another. The jumping and shout had her attention snap over. Her eyes raced around to see where her attention needed to be. It took a moment to rest upon what had Scherezade react to. Ashla clapped and let her sarcastic thought slip out into the open, “Oh yay… this could be fun and not a total bore.”

Ruins meant the fun was over and moved on. It meant that she had missed out on it. The thought of no fun had her down a little. It also let her slip out a little another thought, “So… we get to kill the birds now?”

 

[Xenro]

His purpose was complete, yet the Sith remained. It was a whim that brought him to this rock of a world to begin with, so curiosity was the only thing that kept him. What would the woman do with his investment of time and effort? What would make Scherezade risk the wroth of the Confederacy of Independent Systems?

The gleaming ruby light of his eyes swept across the floor of the ship as he felt the unease of Jace deWinter and heard his subsequent words. If he was to be believed on the matter of his credentials, it was probable that someone in the Defense Force was already alerted to their presence.

"If you have business here, you should conclude it quickly," he counseled Scherezade deWinter gently. "Those codes change quickly. The Vicelord's paranoia has understandably grown in recent times."

Complications from the Knights Obsidian were best avoided, especially now that most of their names presumably occupied an "enemies of the State" list.

For Xenro, being caught in his current state was not only less than ideal, it was unacceptable.

That, and the strange power that coalesced beneath them had kept his attention since they broke atmosphere. It was unnatural. If they hadn't caught the attention of anyone, such an anomaly surely would.

Anesia Jy'Vun | Ashla Vella

 

[Jace deWinter]

Location: Bridge of the Star Seeker
Equipment: Crossguard Lightsaber
Tags: Anesia Jy'Vun | Scherezade deWinter I Ashla Vella | Xenro

He cracked a small grin and Scherezade's comment. "Come's with being a part of our family don't it?" he chuckled a little before the ruins came into sight, which caused him to furrow his brow, this was a concerning sight, could the Confederacy really have sunk so low as to attempt to kill their own?

He cast a final look back at Ashla, shaking his head a little bit before listening to Xenro speak, "Your friend here is right cousin, it's only a matter of time before trouble comes knocking, and while I'm not one to run from a fight, I don't much look forward to an engagement with the CDF or the Knights."

With that comment, Jace turned back to the controls, finding their landing site and placing the ship there. The force sent a shiver up his spine, he could already sense something was off, but they had a job to do, and he wasn't about to abandon one of their own, especially when said one mattered so much in a lot of ways to both of the deWinter's on this boat. With the final thud of the landing out of the way, he flipped the switch to let the loading ramp drop, "Okay kids, it's now or never."

 

[Anesia Jy'Vun]

I A M H E R E

To feel everything at once and not at all- suspended in the throws of dark magic.

It knows, she tried to tell them. It knows. There was nothing she could do, but stare with dark and terrified eyes. Ferrius' feet were frozen, visage the portrait of struggle as she sought to reign in the invisible... inevitable strike to the rescuers in Roon's dawn. It was enough. Enough for it not to be physical. It's mastications through the minds, however, could not be helped. Great, ravenous jaws of The Darkside snapped and it's hooked teeth tore at their psyches.

It meant to root and slaughter. The past twisted within the arcane divination.

"Scherezade..." Betrayal would snake, project and reopen the wounds. That power would attempt to throw the Agent to a place she would have rather forgotten. "It was always you," Gerwald's voice began. The poison, it spread though and Katrine and Gerwald's faces replaced that of the viewport and the landscape of the planet. All at once, the young woman would be assaulted with the sounds and smells of another time, place.

Scherezade.

Betrayal. Betrayal.

"It is so dark here," the voice shook, lost. "Are you there, Arcanus....?" In the gloom of evocation stared fair faces, hooded figures, and the gleam of bone beneath tattered flesh of the fallen. The dead stood behind the Jedi Master swaying in what seemed to be curiosity. Flames flickered, leeching the shadows to revealed a very alive dead, growing in number. She reached.

Arcanus.

More betrayal.

"We will always be, Jace..." The face that swam to the forefront of the man was real enough to touch with this dark magic. Soft fingers, then palms fled along his strong jaw, fell to scour his neck. Flames of desire echoed into his. The kiss placed upon his lips was velvet soft, promising. Aggressive. Demanding. "I love you."

Jace.

Pawns.

Ruffled by the wanton excess of power unleashed, the birds began to shiver, scales rippling in effect. Not wholly in fear, but awareness. Their unrest causing them to shift eagerly...hungry. Inky sequined eyes slid to Ashla, unusually bright yellow and orange. The reptavians lurched, shaking their long necks, beaks parting. It had yet to be seen if it was the Darkside taking hold and meaning harm or the animals' natural loyalty and sense to protect would be unleashed.

From the South, Obsidian helms glittered in rays of the gold-white sun. The shine so bright and the distance still great enough that their numbers could not be counted.

The runes on her deft fingers began to glow faintly and a scream tore from her throat.

I A M H E R E​

_________________________________________________________________________________
Scherezade deWinter | Ashla Vella | Xenro | Jace deWinter​

 

[Scherezade deWinter]

Location: Aboard Jace deWinter's ship.
Wearing: Armatura | The Forgemaster's Ring | Ring of Stasis | The Sofitor
Wielding: 7 Nozhi Blades | 1 Whimsy Knife | 1 Whimsy Witch Knife | 2 Nastirci Combat Knives | Clarion | Copero's Wail | Fire and Smoke | Combat Gauntlets | Tessen | 2 TOTT-001 Arc Light Blaster | 2 Dissuader KD-30 Pistols with Glitter Bullets | The Parasite
Tags: Anesia Jy'Vun Jace deWinter Ashla Vella Xenro

"No-no, witchling," Scherezade laughed as she saw Ashla's excitement about killing the bids and moving to the planet's surface. In a lot of ways, Ashla to her seemed like what she could have been, had she not almost a patchwork of traumas.

Looking to Xenro , she nodded. His words made sense with the gut feeling that led her every time she was within Confederate borders, even if it wasn't her own credentials that were being used, though the Knights Obsidian were not something she personally feared. Not after she'd been with them for so long, and not after her sister led them. But sure - Jace deWinter had a point. They didn't want to deal with them right now, it would become too time consuming.

And so, they landed.

Scherezade grabbed her gear, making sure that the last few knives sat well in place and wouldn't slide out, and stepped first off the ship, motioning for the others to follow.

She felt something was wrong. What she'd felt on the ship was nothing compared to this now that she was inhaling the very air of Roon. But there was no time to toss a shield, to protect herself, or to do anything, before the memories began to assault her.

"No...." she whispered, her glowing green eyes looking wildly forward, not seeing the ruins in front of her at all, but instead a room on Katrine's ship, the night she had woken up from her coma after being murdered or almost murdered, the night that the scratches and cracks had joined each other and shattered her. "No…" her voice trembled, and she took another step back.

She closed her eyes, shaking her head. The more she tried to think herself away from that room, away from the smell of burning because of the fire she had started, away from… Scherzade looked down, and the Sword of Darkness was in her hand. She screamed, this time falling back, shaking her hand to try to get rid of it, but it stayed there, as though it materializing out of nothing meant that nothing could make it go away.

So long, it had been so long since she'd last seen the sword. After her second exit from the Darkness it had popped out at unwanted times, all the way until she tried to kill herself. In the Darkness, it had brought her back to life. Outside of it… Outside of it, though she'd never actually stabbed anyone with it, she knew that it would do the opposite, and serve as a key to get back in there.

And still through it, she heard it. She could hear @Anesia 's scream, and it gave her a moment - not even a single breath, but a moment nontheless - of clarity.

Again she saw Katrine in front of her, holding that sword with the slime, trying to tell her that she loves her. But Scherezade couldn't listen to her, not then, and not now. What wasn't what love meant, and even at the tender point in her life in which she'd been barely a few months worth of adult existence, she'd known, down to her very bones, that everything was wrong.

The memories jumped forward, and Scherezade was now on the ground. The Sword of Darkness wasn't in her hands, but she lay there, face down, knees beneath her chest, smashing her head on own head on the pavement over and over again, trying to make the spirits stop talking to her, trying to push those things out of her mind.

Perhaps… Perhaps it was luck, that this was the memory she had jumped to. Not yet a Blood Hound then, but a Blood Hound shortly thereafter, her blood had always been something that helped snap her out of similar things, ahd grounded her back. In the memory, she was bleeding, and the scent rose, overtaking her, the coppery tang and the warmth of it.

A Blood Hound was always safe with her own blood.

Unless she was losing too much of it.

Scherezade's scream joined Anesia's as her left hand grabbed one of her knives. Wasting no time, terrified of being overtaken again by those memories of a night that had best never happened, and she stabbed her own thigh.

The smell of blood in the real world filled her and she took a sharp inhale, her eyes at last able to see her surroundings, her nose finally able to feel the ancient ruin drench.

Still breathing hard, Scherezade left the blade in her thigh as she rose from the ground, taking a look to see what had happened to the others.

 

[Xenro]

Memories unbidden.

To a Sith Master, few things were so precious as the secrets held within the mind. When any force sought to assail those depths, no matter how powerful, the ripples came first. Warning shot through him just before the onslaught. Xenro's gaze snapped up, and his body twisted to face-

Her smile was soft, softer than it had any business to be. When she spoke, the hard edge that she struck everyone else with fell away. Whether Master Palam intended for her icy demeanor to melt with her apprentice, or she had come to see him as a child, or a sibling, Arcanus could not have known.

He rarely spared the time to understand others. As a Jedi, he was too aloof. He struggled to connect with others, and despite his affluence for the Force, he unnerved his peers. Palam Batiina saw something in him that he knew was never there.

She was still young for a Jedi Master, just at the end of her twenties. The feat had become less fantastic since the New Republic, and Luke Skywalker becoming Grandmaster. It wasn't an exclusive thing anymore, Masterhood. She was a kind woman, if strict, but gentle and caring once you got to know her.

That infuriated him.

"It's so dark in here..."

Reality washed over him once more as he separated now from then in an instant. The power that sought to overcome his thoughts and superimpose the past split apart around him and his perturbed gaze rested on the others. Whatever power spoke now to them, to him, had said too much.

And it dared to say more.

"Are you there, Arcanus?"

"There is no one here with that name."

Scherezade deWinter | Jace deWinter | Ashla Vella | Anesia Jy'Vun

 

[Ashla Vella]

All the chatting was white noise to the nomadic witch. Her eyes were down, looking at her coat, weapon, and armor. It was not much. Everything needed to be light and easy to grab to run. Ashla picked up her right arm armor sleeve to put on. Only four pieces of plastoid armor on the leather padded sleeve. Then she grabbed her hooded, sleeveless coat. Putting it on, it let her left kwa sewn arm and right armored arm be exposed.

She popped her left arm like she was loading it with a round. Still, the kwa skin that had been sewn on her did begin to glow lightly with its blueness. However, words could escape from her lips about being ready and how the target was really. There was a seductive, dark and cold voice, “I see you child.”

Ashla looked around for the source. Everything was the same. The ship, people around her, and herself. It spoke again, “Your blood sings the song of Serva, child… even looking like her when she was a child like her daughter and those in her line. Even that deWinter blood can’t suppress or hide you from me.”

Then it hit her. She remembered that her brother spoke of a voice calling to him before he disappeared. It told him about blood singing and being decent of another. Still a memory of their cousin appearing and speaking about the same thing. Panic grew in the witch. Her blue skin glowed brighter. Flares arched out from the skin like it was the surface of a star.

“Soon you’ll rejoin your Goddess like all that I have made before you.” The words sent chills down Ashla’s spine. The past was buried to her. That was how she dealt with it all. Even her brother missing was the covered up with him being on a long mission. It was not that he could have gone to the source of the voice she heard now. A voice that was warm and luring, but same time was so cold and dark.

Curling up, she screamed “No!” The idea that her family slowly going missing cause of the voice was hurting more than physical pain. It was a tease that they were out there. Yet, they found the voice and abandoned her for it. The clan was family; however, they were not of her blood, and she was alone now because of the voice she heard now.

Then in seconds, she hopped to her feet. Big smile and skip to her walk, she began to move. Happy and positive in tone, her words showed no sign of what negativity she felt. “We are here… let’s go play.”

Ashla’s mind could let her think of what had happen. It knew she would break down and not be useful. Rainbows and puppies replaced the darkness that filled her. All negativity was dealt this way.

Scherezade deWinter Jace deWinter Anesia Jy'Vun Xenro