Private Wild Goose Chase

[Maeve Linahan]

Maeve cursed under her breath at the mention of a witch. She shouldn't have been surprised—only someone gifted in magick could've been capable of such a transformation—but she had hoped for some other explanation, a chance it was just some foul alchemical mistake.

A witch spelled trouble.

"It means there's something just as bad if not worse than a Sith lurking in these hills," Maeve said. "Have you never heard of the Nightsisters before?" She supposed he wouldn't, having been raised as he was. There was still much for Resh to learn.

"Witches are cruel and deceptive," she muttered. "Sith are easy to predict. They are driven by hate or pride, and will come at you either with a blade or a show of the Force. But a witch? She can conjure a weapon from thin air, take the form of a loved one, summon a beastly familiar, twist your thoughts to ash or turn you insides out with a touch."

"I met a witch. A Sith Lord, but a witch all the same. And I have never know anyone so dangerous." Darth Vyle. A fitting name for an unsurprisingly vile woman. She had tricked Maeve back on Kef Bir, fought her on the ruins of the Second Death Star and left her for dead. They'd fought many instances since, and Maeve had failed to kill her every single time.

"Pray she isn't the one responsible here," Maeve said. "Come on." She moved for the window and cast a glance back at the goose. "You as well, Cressida. If there is a way to make you human again, this witch will know. We have no time to waste."

Resh​

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[Resh]

Resh shook his head. Much of what he was taught about the Force and the dark side specifically was steeped in old Sith doctrine. He understood the concept of "magic" or "sorcery", but only through that lens. Nightsisters never entered the conversation. "They sound… scary," He could think of no better word. What could he do against such a being?

Resh decided from then on to stick very close to Maeve, lest this eldritch witch creep up and turn him inside out. "So, if witches are so strong, what are we supposed to do?" He asked, hoping for some first hand insight.

Maeve Linahan​

 

[Maeve Linahan]

"They're only scary if you let your fear get the better of you. After that, they're like any other enemy. Dangerous, perhaps, but no less vulnerable to a lightsaber."

Maeve slipped out from the window and descended into the gardens outside, crushing flowers and cutting through thorny bushes as she cut out a path for Cressida and Resh to follow.

"You've nothing to fear with me. The witch I'd faced might've bested me in the past, but my last encounter with her left her plummeting off a bridge into a forest fire." She offered Resh a reassuring smile. "Expect the same, as long as these tracks lead us on the right path."

She could've told him he was stronger than he thought, soothed him with encouraging words, but she didn't need to encourage him to do anything rash or reckless. He was strong, but strong enough to take on a witch alone? That was hard to say and equally hard to believe.

Maeve just didn't want him to get hurt.

"You've fought Sith in the past, haven't you?" she asked once they emerged from the gardens, into a forest that sloped back down the hillside. "Or at least, something like a Sith?"

Resh​

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[Resh]

Maeve spoke confidently about her experiences with the witch. Fear was the killer. But like anything else mortal, she assured, the witch could be killed. Resh supposed there was some comfort to find in that, as unpleasant as all the death and violence was in general. He followed close, walking the same path and regularly checking on their feathered friend behind.

"Um… Kind of," Resh shrugged. Could the interactions he'd had really be qualified as fights? "It doesn't usually go well. Most of the time I either lose control or just… run away." His gaze cast downward in shame, "How many have you fought?"

Maeve Linahan​

 

[Maeve Linahan]

"Don't be ashamed," Maeve said. "It's expected."

Resh was still only a boy. A clone forced into the role of a god, a pureblood made into a Padawan. He had a great deal to learn if he hoped to face down a Sith Lord or a Nightsister and live, or at least, not fall into the dark like so many others before him.

That was why he was leashed to Maeve now. It was just as much her responsibility as his own to endure the road to Knighthood.

"I've fought too many to count," she told him. "But those I've killed? Thirty-six. Not all of them were Sith Lords, but even just a lightsaber and a taste of the Dark Side can be enough to make a man truly dangerous." Maeve didn't bother adding that half those deaths had been in secret, through poison or surprise, and one even during their sleep.

"Of course, don't feel as if you must compare yourself to me. I am a Jedi Shadow, and purging the Dark Side is my only task—not healing, not diplomacy, not leadership. It's my life's work." Maeve paused, her voice dropping an octave. "And it's one I take very personally."

Gnarled pines hung over them as they walked farther downhill. The tracks she was following began to fade once they reached the valley floor, just as the forest opened up into a small meadow, swallowed up by a startling spread of wildflowers, blood-red and almost dancing in the wind.

Behind them, Cressida honked.

Be careful! she said in Resh's mind. If aggravated, those flowers release deadly spores.

Maeve edged the clearing, taking the first step forward. "We must be close," she said, oblivious. "I can feel something not far ahead, just across this clearing. Stay alert."

Resh​

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[Resh]

Maeve's response surprised Resh. She didn't strike him as someone to tolerate such vulnerabilities. But perhaps his master was just finally coming out of her shell. The Shadow even spoke plainly of her past encounters with Sith. Thirty-six slain by her alone. Resh responded with a wordless 'wow', in fear or wonder he could not say. The padawan gulped and nodded, "You seem… very good at it."

They continued along the path and into a meadow of flowers. Resh would have paid them no mind, if Cressida had not spoken up again. "Wait!" Resh said, almost interrupting his master, "Cressida says these flowers are deadly." He looked back at the goose as if for assurance, then back to Maeve. He waited on the outskirts of the clearing, not daring to cross over lest the flowers release their dangerous spores. "Are they natural, you think?" He wondered aloud.

Maeve Linahan​