Whispering in Unknown Dreams

[Grace Darkson]

​

She still had time.

They would tell her otherwise. They would tell her it was too late. That she needed to stop. That she needed sleep, or rest, or something. As she devoured the meal before her, just enough to keep her going, the Gorgon scrawled down words in a language she knew was fit for these words. They would tell her to slow down.

She wouldn't have time if she did.

It held knowledge, power that she lacked, Power that she needed. Power she would have. It was there, she knew it! It was hiding it from her, keeping something from her! It had to be!

We hide nothing from you that you are ready for. The thunderous voice shattered her focus. Golden eyes glazed as she blinked. Who... Oh. The totem. That persistent voice in her mind.

“I can handle anything you hold.” Her voice, though defiant to the end, was tired. So very tired....

 

[Grace Darkson]

She woke up to darkness, and the feeling of hunger. Why did her body need food, anyways? She could access the Force, why did she still need to eat for energy? Or sleep, for that matter? Shouldn’t the Force be enough? Maybe if she had tried the other path. But it was weaker, holding on to that small idea of equality and morality. With this kind of power, why use it to aid others? She didn’t need to. And, yet, more often than not, she did.

The tome was gone, returned to its place while she had been asleep. Still what she craved was held, dangling, just out of her reach. They had it! She knew They did! But still it was kept from her. She needed to break it. She needed more time...

She never seemed to have enough time.

Slowly, she stood, barely noticing the furry head that followed her as she did. Quiet steps carried her to the kitchen. Bloodshot eyes stared into the depths of the conservator, scanning for something easy. Leftovers. Again. As they heated, the exhausted woman looked at the scrawled notes. The tome would be in use for a few hours yet. She’d need something else to do.

Maybe something from the Book? It had been forever since she had read those.

 

[Grace Darkson]

It was nice to flip through the notes of Sith legends, of great men and woman, mighty in mind and terrible in power. They were her first true teachers, her first glimpse into the power she could wield. Scrawling hands copied down versions of Syn’s notes, adding copies of her own collection of scrolls and spells behind the one the Exile had written. They would serve well in the future. Now, she only needed to memorize them...

Not here. Not now. When she was done. When she wasn’t in the library. She had work to do. She needed more.

She needed more. And as much as she knew there was much she could still learn within these walls, she knew much more was veiled inside the shifting letters of the Grimoire. And still They kept it from her.

It was infuriating.

 

[Grace Darkson]

Still it was kept from her. Still what she sought was denied her. She needed it, needed answers, needed to understand. Needed to control it. And still she was denied.

She wasn’t ready. The Grimoire slammed shut, and she left it, disgusted. They knew she was dangerous. Yes, that had to be. They feared her, what she could learn, what she could do. So of course they kept more from her. It couldn’t be anything else. She could handle Sith Sorcery, after all. She had forged a blade to rend armor on her own. What more could the Grimoire hide, besides that which would threaten the Spirits themselves?

It had to be. Ergast had given nothing, and Nox was worse to try and track. She was running out of options. Maybe she could try something when the ghosts came next? She had to try.

She wouldn’t be a slave forever.

 

[Grace Darkson]

Her head rested on the desk a moment, tired eyes desperately fighting to stay awake. How long since she had slept? How long since she had left the study room? Maybe she should take a break. But there wasn’t time. Never enough time. She had to keep working. Keep working...

Pale eyelids flickered as something warm and soft brushed up against her hand. The beast had come to live with her while Cairyn was missing. How long had it been? Were they still looking for him? She remembered something about the Galactic Alliance. Maybe she should check up on that. Slowly, a pale hand rubbed Griz’s head. She should sleep. Maybe take a break. Yeah, a break. A break sounded good.

The Vahla stumbled off towards her room, the Nexu trotting behind her. She was asleep before her head reached the pillow.