Private Witches Be Trippin' | Ryv

[Auteme]

Ryv ​

Stories never really ended. Even when things seemed cut and dry, wrapped up nicely, with a little bow on top, there was always something more. It was always a difficult idea to wrap one’s head around -- all sentients had a better sense of self than of other things. Auteme was no different; when she’d left Thracior last she’d felt a deep sense of closure and finality to the affair. The Hsni and Tantt were at peace. The wah-lord Yug’Dab and the cadre of witches had been dismantled. The Force rested calmly on the grassy hills and fields of Thracior.

She should have known better. Those things didn’t last; nothing ever did.

Not soon after the Galactic Alliance had claimed the planet, the remnants of the witches moved to preserve what power they had left. Force Imbuement was far from a new thing in the galaxy. When the dark side was involved in the process, things tended to go poorly, at least for most of everyone else. On Thracior, they had chosen to pour their hatred and anger into an artifact that would amplify it. They placed the artifact among the people and left.

For the clans of Thracior, it started small. There was an altercation between a Hsni farmer and a Tantt warrior in which the farmer was struck by the warrior. Small conflicts and situations had been breaking out for weeks, and while the leaders of the clans managed to institute a sort of peace, it was tenuous.

“So… what do you think we should do?”

The two Jedi stood at the crest of a small hill, the grass up to Auteme’s knees. Her green dress was almost the same hue as the grass, but she doubted she blended in. She was no expert in camouflage; not that it mattered at kilometer away from the village. On the shuttle that brought them here they hadn’t exactly discussed their plan. Now that they were on Thracior, she had no choice but to… talk to him.

While it still felt a little awkward, Auteme knew Ryv was much more experienced in these matters than she was. Part of her felt like the only real reason she was there was because her bag was the best way to store dark side artifacts and she was the only one who could access it. She’d take today as a learning experience. Not that anything was ever not a learning experience, but today she’d pay particular attention. Just work and focus.

“I can feel something in the town.” He could probably feel it too. There was a thick fog hanging over the area, prodding the townsfolk into feeding their more hateful desires. From where they stood it wasn’t difficult to push that influence away, but as they got closer it was sure to intensify.

Might as well get walking. She began to advance towards the town, hoping that this story would wrap up already.

 

[Ryv]

From atop his perch overlooking a sea of rolling grass, Ryv sought out the darker influence threatening the village before him. Though he couldn't perceive the greater effects of whatever weapon plagued the populace, he could still make out Bogan's corrupting touch. His skin crawled, hair standing on end as his mind shielded itself from the sickly power, instinctively, as Cedric once trained him to do. Hanging from his belt, Resolve pulsed with its own sentience, the Ashlan artifact hungry to clash against whatever power passed between the townsfolk. Much like the blade, its master grit his teeth in anticipation, eyes narrowed. He reached down to his side, his right hand digging around the pack for a set of electrobinoculars. Up they went, lifted and fitted to his eyes in one fluid movement.

Auteme's words caught his attention, momentarily pulling his gaze from the small town.

Ryv lowered the binocs, turned to face her in full, and shrugged. "Well, we don't have enough intel to make any sure-fire plan, which means we're going in unprepared," he looked back to the city, binoculars in place. "If these witches are gifted in foresight, they may be expecting us. Not much reason for them to plant a Force-imbued item into a group of civvies without expecting company," he held them out to her. "If it were me, I'd lie in wait for whoever the GA might send, set a pretty obvious trap we'll know to avoid, and then spring a second trap on us. I don't think most people will expect that sorta thing, but what do I know?" he reached down and lifted his bag, carefully sliding it down the length of his right arm, before working the remainder of his left arm through the second loop.

Any attempt made to study Ryv would reveal to Auteme the lack of his left hand. Though he made an effort to mask the missing extremity on the dropship that delivered them, he seemed unphased at her taking notice of it. His focus appeared entirely on the mission, or so it seemed.

"Yeah, I can feel it," Ryv declared, following close behind her. "For what it's worth, Auteme, I'm glad you decided to tag along," he moved up beside her, offering a sideways glance. "Good opportunity for experience, but more importantly, you know more about this stuff than anyone in the NJO. I'm pretty sure Maynard, Loske, or I would've stumbled into a trap by now," he narrowed his eyes, squinting to see through the encroaching mist. "If things get dicey, don't move too far from me," his remaining hand fell to his side as his voice dropped to a whisper, just loud enough for his companion to hear. "Better we take this one together, I'd say."

Silhouettes began to take shape in the mist, dark figures hovering just far enough that neither of the two Jedi could make out who or what they were. This brought a frown to Ryv's hardened features, followed by a streak of concern. He looked back to Auteme, ensuring she still stood nearby. As an idea surfaced within his mind, the Kiffar grinned.

"How do you think we should proceed, Auteme?"

Auteme ​

 

[Auteme]

Ryv
​

Oh. Jeez.

...

WHERE DID HIS HAND GO? HOW DID SHE MISS THAT?

Auteme stayed largely silent during the twenty seconds of internal screaming that followed. She managed to hear what he was saying, but it took her a few more moments to respond, mostly because she suddenly had a lot to process. Ryv was good at talking; that tended to happen a lot.

The encroaching mists didn't give her a lot of room to think. Dark silhouettes, mysterious fog blowing in from the town, and even worse, responsibility. Yes, Ryv had just told her that she was smart, and that was nice, but it didn't substitute experience. After all, there was the whole knowledge argument, and the Mary's Room thought experiment. Auteme really liked that. It was all about how even knowing everything about something was different from experiencing it personally. That was kind of what she thought about the Force, though a physicalist might argue that even the Force was simply a phenomena created by midi-chlorians and thus could be explained in a physical sense. Still, she was drawn to the argument of qualia because mental states were so much more than just physical reactions. The debate could go on forever...

But she couldn't spend forever thinking about it. She couldn't get wrapped up in her own thoughts and thought experiments when there were indeed things to be experienced. Of course, she didn't particularly want to experience them -- Ryv was much more experienced, the literal Sword of the Jedi, and not a nervous nerd. She had no idea what he was talking about with traps, both with the witches's plan or the idea that she'd somehow avoided traps. As far as she knew she hadn't done anything at all aside from sense a bit and walk forward.

"Ryv, now's not the time to be testing me... just do your thing. You're so much better at this than I-" A gust of wind pushed against her clothes. She'd known the mists were some sort of Force apparition, but when they didn't move at all with the wind she realized what it was.

"You know how to use Force sight, right?" She suddenly felt in control, like she knew what was going to happen. There was a rush of adrenaline and her heart started beating faster but she felt calm. She brought her left hand up, placing it on the back of Ryv's head. Her right hand rose to the sky. This is like Brentaal, she thought. No, she'd been no match for Abaddon but for a moment she felt everything coming together. "Get that ready and get ready to move."

Auteme took a deep breath. The oxygen filled her lungs, entered her blood, and flowed out to her hands and her mind. Just like the Force there was an energy to life. They were one and the same. The energy gathered in her mind and her left hand pushed outwards, cleansing the outside influence from it. She'd been right -- the witches had created an illusion to hide their presence. With their senses cleared the fog disappeared and the witches could be seen clear as day.

"Now!"

Her right hand burst with a radiant light, one both blinding and searing to the witches. Hopefully, Ryv would proceed.

 

[Ryv]

Before Ryv could argue with Auteme's point, a cold wind coursed over each of them. It felt wrong. The surrounding temperature dropped, but not as nature intended. The warmth drained away, replaced with a distinct absence of the sun's gleaming touch. Darkness settled over the mist, crawling closer to the two Jedi with each step they took into the village proper. The surrounding silhouettes grew in number, dozens of them now surrounding Ryv and Auteme, threatening to overtake them at a moment's notice. His remaining hand tightened around Resolve, the mythical weapon screaming to be released, its presence in the force pulsating with unchecked power.

Let me out, Resolve demanded. This is why you made me. We can crush them. We can cull their horrid existence from the cosmos and free yet another planet from Bogan, it paused its mental prodding, gauging Ryv's immediate reaction. When nothing came, it continued. Imagine it, Ryv, you need only consider the possibilities. Imagine her face. Imagine the traitor as you do Ashla's work.

"Nah," Ryv muttered, hopefully, low enough Auteme wouldn't catch it. He turned to her as she began to speak, nodding along. "Force sight?" he asked. "Nope, not at all," he chuckled. "Should be fine though, if you're using your typical trick, I'll just keep my eyes on the prize," he placed himself in front of her and the crawling mists. He slowly raised his chin, his thumb pressed firmly against the lightsaber's activation switch. As his companion prepared herself, Ryv took a deep breath of his own, and his mind centered on what would soon come to be. Already, he could feel the battle, hear the sound of his weapon as it whirred through the air, smell the burning ozone as it sliced left and right. He couldn't remember when such foresight took root in his mind, but it often came in handy, especially in the face of mysterious, potentially numerous threats.

Ryv nodded once. "Gotcha, boss," he spoke his agreeance, a foot sliding forward, every muscle in his body tensing as if he'd prepared himself to pounce. When the light exploded into existence behind him, casting an inhumanly sized shadow from where he stood, he jumped into action. The mists parted, chased away by the light of the Padawan. His amber gaze snapped to the nearest of the witches, her arm still blocking her eyes as she blinked the devastating glow away. He cleared the gap in an instant, Resolve lifted in an arcing strike, the hilt smashed into the woman's temple before she knew what she faced. With one down, the Kiffar didn't slow. If anything, he quickened his pace. His body blurred to extraordinary speeds, carrying him forward into a thunderous shoulder tackle that sent a second into the building behind her.

Her jaw snapped open, a groan of pain escaped her as she collided with the structure's wall. Ryv arrived a split-second later, his gloved hand taking hold of her face, his fingers digging into pale flesh. With a grunt, he pulled her away from the structure, driving her head into the cracked wall again. The witch's senses dulled immediately as another flash of white exploded across her vision, followed by a third and final slam. She fell limp, her body a crumpled up pile on the ground at the Jedi Knight's feet. He turned, hungrily looking for another foe, seeking the thrill of combat that so easily kept away the pain threatening him at any other time. Instead, he felt his body lifted into the air, the ground growing distant as he soared skyward.

During his brief rampage, one of the witches regained her senses, her rage now alight as she turned her attention to the Kiffar. Her metaphysical grip tightened around him, lifted him, and sent him flying.

Ryv turned about in the air, bracing himself at the last instant before his body collided with a hanging portion of roofing. His upper body slammed into the slanted surface, turned about completely, and crashed down into the earth. He felt the air driven from his lungs as he gasped painfully as if he'd somehow pull it all back in. His vision swam, the world a rolling blur as he tried to reorientate.

"Ah, f-" Ryv couldn't even finish his curse. A booted foot slammed down into his chest, cutting him off.

"Now, now, Jedi," a beautiful face smiled down at him, her crimson gaze alive with malice and hatred. "I wouldn't want you to have all the fun. I want to play too, hm?" she raised her foot, cracked it against the side of Ryv's head, and sent him rolling through the dirt. A faint trail of blood followed him, the witch only a few feet behind.

Auteme ​

 

[Auteme]

Ryv
​

Obviously it'd been a little optimistic to assume that Ryv would just be able to defeat all the witches. Auteme was always optimistic, though. The way he shot off like that, how quickly he defeated two of the witches -- she almost never saw him in action, but the brief glimpses she got told her that he was worth the title of Sword of the Jedi. She could feel the conviction, the resolve radiating off him. For a moment it seemed to twist into a hunger, a thirst for violence-

But she had little time to process. While Ryv had beat two of the witches and drawn away one more, there were two who remained, their hands raised in an attempt to block out the blinding light. The one on the left hurled a bolt of lightning that soared past Auteme. At that range the light wasn't sapping their strength in any meaningful way; not that she was trying to. Now that the distraction had worn off she needed a different strategy.

After a few more seconds -- enough time for the witches's eyes to adjust to the glaring light -- Auteme extinguished her hand, once more forcing the witches's eyes to adjust. She took another deep breath, drawing the energy into a ball in her left hand before thrusting it forward, launching the Force burst at the nearest witch.

As the glowing ball of Force energy rocketed towards its target, Auteme had a very long second to consider her actions. She was doing actual violence. Like, that thing could hurt someone. Well, it was going to hurt someone. Maybe. Not much. She hoped. It was mostly concussive force anyways. Still, concussions were dangerous. Permanent brain damage was bad. She didn't wish that on anyone, even the witches. Why was she attacking the witches anyways? Were they inherently evil? Maybe she could convince them to stop. Well, she could've, but now the Force burst was going to hit the one to her right. The other scary lady would probably shoot lightning at her. Force lightning was very bad. Loske got hit with Force lightning and she definitely did not have fun. Anyways, if they were going to do violence against her, wasn't it alright for her to defend herself? It still felt icky. Maybe she could just knock them out. She just needed to figure out how.

Right, okay, second over.

Auteme's Force burst blasted the witch, sending her rolling in the dirt. Auteme was pretty she heard a groan from the woman, so hopefully she was alright. The other witch was decidedly less alright in that she looked very angry.

"You! I know you. You are the one that hurt our sister!" Her hands crackled with arcs of green lightning, but it was the witch's eyes that scared Auteme the most. Past the anger she could see the pain, the determination -- the resolve. Perhaps this was righteous, to seek revenge on the person who severed the connection to the Force of someone dear to them. Auteme did not know. But hate was no way to achieve one's goals.

The witch outstretched her hands and fired her lightning, forcing Auteme to bring her right hand down, summoning a barrier to disperse the first volley. She prepared another burst, gathering energy in her left hand. Another blast of lightning dissipated against her barrier; the witch growled and began to chant in some language that even Auteme could not understand. A green mist began to surround her, and though she closed her mouth the smoke forced itself into her lungs. The poison choked and burned; the padawan fell to her knees, grasping at her throat. The witch cackled as the barrier fell.

Did it ever hurt; oh, Auteme had never felt anything like it and had no intentions to ever again. She forced herself to focus through the pain. Heartbeat, breath, hurt- no. Heartbeat, pumping, life, excess, expel. Expel. Detoxify. She drew the poison from her lungs and forced it out of her body; there was a little toot as it came out the other end. The witch's triumph turned to ash as Auteme stood once more and raised her hands forward.

"Die already!" The witch hurled more lightning at the young Jedi but Auteme had entered a sort of trance, weaving like a dancing Echani through the barrage until she reached her opponent. Her hand aglow with radiant light, she brought her fingers up to the witch's head. The hatred and determination was gone; Auteme only saw fear in those eyes. As she pulled her hand away, the witch's thoughts left her, and she fell unconscious in the grass.

Auteme couldn't rest yet; as exhausting as it was she still had work to do. The padawan spun around, searching for the other Jedi. She saw the witch standing over Ryv and again was forced to push past her limits. Protecting others was a Jedi's duty, and all that. All she could think about was how she needed to work out more as she jogged closer to the witch and her footrest.

The witch was interrupted by strands of light latching onto her arms and legs, pulling her away from Ryv and the home they'd broken into. She struggled against her restraints, screaming as the light singed her, only to find the strands hard as iron. Auteme was unwavering. As with the last when the witch was close enough Auteme reached up, placing her hand to the witch's head, and drew the thoughts from her mind to render her unconscious. Her opponent now limp she was free to release her light and stumble over to Ryv.

"You're bleeding," she grunted, kneeling beside him. "Sorry, I'll... uh... heal you... just... let me catch my breath."