Soliath Devin Talith
Family Man
Soliael stood over a bed within his fathers former palace on Byss. In the bed lay his sister, a girl that had really only lived for a short year. Her skin was pale, her veins were sticking out, and her eyes seemed to be the very face of death. Soliael watched her closely, every shake and shudder, every motion she made. There was complete and utter pity in his eyes.
He had wanted to heal his sister, wanted to fix her somehow, wanted to make her better. But he had not the skill.
In a desperate effort Soliael had called on every healer he had known. He had asked the Aing-Tii, he had asked his Aunt Amore, he had even asked the Jedi. None however could fix what was wrong with her, none could solve this problem. Anwen was doomed for a life of laying in bed, shaking, shuddering, her mental faculties slowly fading and her body fading along with them. They could not save her, only prolong her life.
This was the fault of Moridin, the fault of his so called father.
Anwen had touched one of his failed holocrons. A wooden box containing what was supposed to have been the sum total of all his knowledge, and yet it had been a lie. Instead of bringing knowledge it had brought this plague across Anwen. It had destroyer her almost completely and totally, and now with tears in his eyes the Sith Lord stood over his sister, no gauntlets on his hands, no armor on his body, a simple tunic and robe.
He looked at her, sadness reigning within him.
“You can't do this!”
A voice broke through the room, shattering the silence Soliael had been standing in. Sven rushed into the room, screaming and yelling as loud as he could. There was anger in his eyes, fear in his heart, and pure rage about his body. Soliael could see it within him, even with his brother dead to the force Soliael could see his every emotion radiate from him.
“She's still alive! She's still fighting!”
Soliael gazed over to his brother, his eyes nearly dead. He gave the King of Byss a look of disapproval, a look that said it all. Anwen was dead, there was no two ways about it. Her body was alive, but her mind was fading faster than anyone could help it.
“She's dead Sven. Whether or not her body still lingers her mind is gone. I know you can't feel it, but look at her.” Soliael pointed to their sister, his rugged hands brushing her hair aside lightly. Sven walked over to the bed, staring at his sister.
“I won't accept that.”
On some level, Soliael respected his brother. He wanted to save his family above all else something that Soliael knew well. Anwen however much it pained them was a lost cause, and Soliael knew it. “I'm sorry brother.”
Suddenly Soliael brought up his fist. He smashed his knuckles into Sven's face as hard and fast as he could, natural Garhoon strength mixing with the force to knock out the force dead in a single strike. Sven collapsed to the floor in a heap, falling over unconscious, though not dead. Soliael looked down at his brother, and squatted beside him, leaning his ragdoll body up against the bed.
He knew that Sven would just try to stop him, something that he could not have happen.
Slowly the Sith Lord turned his attention back to Anwen.
“I only knew you for a short time. But you are my blood. You deserved better than you were given.” Soliael slowly placed his hand over Anaya's eyes, closing them and building up the force within his palm. He closed his own eye and began to search for something within her brain, a small blood vessel, almost unnoticeable. With the use of the force he pinched this blood vessel shut, closing it to the flow of blood for only a second. In almost no time at all the blood vessel burst, causing an aneurysm.
Within the beat of a heart and with no pain at all, Anwen vanished from this world.
He had wanted to heal his sister, wanted to fix her somehow, wanted to make her better. But he had not the skill.
In a desperate effort Soliael had called on every healer he had known. He had asked the Aing-Tii, he had asked his Aunt Amore, he had even asked the Jedi. None however could fix what was wrong with her, none could solve this problem. Anwen was doomed for a life of laying in bed, shaking, shuddering, her mental faculties slowly fading and her body fading along with them. They could not save her, only prolong her life.
This was the fault of Moridin, the fault of his so called father.
Anwen had touched one of his failed holocrons. A wooden box containing what was supposed to have been the sum total of all his knowledge, and yet it had been a lie. Instead of bringing knowledge it had brought this plague across Anwen. It had destroyer her almost completely and totally, and now with tears in his eyes the Sith Lord stood over his sister, no gauntlets on his hands, no armor on his body, a simple tunic and robe.
He looked at her, sadness reigning within him.
“You can't do this!”
A voice broke through the room, shattering the silence Soliael had been standing in. Sven rushed into the room, screaming and yelling as loud as he could. There was anger in his eyes, fear in his heart, and pure rage about his body. Soliael could see it within him, even with his brother dead to the force Soliael could see his every emotion radiate from him.
“She's still alive! She's still fighting!”
Soliael gazed over to his brother, his eyes nearly dead. He gave the King of Byss a look of disapproval, a look that said it all. Anwen was dead, there was no two ways about it. Her body was alive, but her mind was fading faster than anyone could help it.
“She's dead Sven. Whether or not her body still lingers her mind is gone. I know you can't feel it, but look at her.” Soliael pointed to their sister, his rugged hands brushing her hair aside lightly. Sven walked over to the bed, staring at his sister.
“I won't accept that.”
On some level, Soliael respected his brother. He wanted to save his family above all else something that Soliael knew well. Anwen however much it pained them was a lost cause, and Soliael knew it. “I'm sorry brother.”
Suddenly Soliael brought up his fist. He smashed his knuckles into Sven's face as hard and fast as he could, natural Garhoon strength mixing with the force to knock out the force dead in a single strike. Sven collapsed to the floor in a heap, falling over unconscious, though not dead. Soliael looked down at his brother, and squatted beside him, leaning his ragdoll body up against the bed.
He knew that Sven would just try to stop him, something that he could not have happen.
Slowly the Sith Lord turned his attention back to Anwen.
“I only knew you for a short time. But you are my blood. You deserved better than you were given.” Soliael slowly placed his hand over Anaya's eyes, closing them and building up the force within his palm. He closed his own eye and began to search for something within her brain, a small blood vessel, almost unnoticeable. With the use of the force he pinched this blood vessel shut, closing it to the flow of blood for only a second. In almost no time at all the blood vessel burst, causing an aneurysm.
Within the beat of a heart and with no pain at all, Anwen vanished from this world.
