Friend.
As the white streak of Elise dropped from the battlements, Ryv considered the word. He spoke it aloud, barely above a whisper, seemingly tasting the world on his tongue. Just like everyone else, he knew the meaning of the word. He even had friends, people he'd fight fo without a second thought, but those friends became far more to the Jedi Knight. Maynard, a brother in arms, one who saw past Ryv's flaws and trusted him all the same. And Loske, more than a mere friend in Ryv's heart. She stood at his side far more than anyone else in the galaxy, taking on injustice without hesitation. He loved her as one would a sister. In both cases, things weren't quite as rocky as they were with the 'Silent Beacon.' Loske and Maynard came from a violent upbringing, prepared from a young age to do the work the common man feared, regardless of the outcome. That same upbringing carried them into danger, not unlike the invasion going on around him. What of Elise? Ryv stepped onto the parapets after her, watching the woman weave through the defending forces below with elegance befitting only a Jedi Master.
Cedric's words interrupted his apprentice's thoughts, pulling his attention from the specter drifting away from the walls. His words struck a chord within Ryv, reminding him of Allyson, the woman who abandoned him for some higher purpose. He felt his breath catch, his heart skipping a beat as he caught himself. Abandoned? No, the mission. Allyson Locke did not abandon the Jedi Knight or his cause. She dedicated herself to where she could most be of use.
Right?
"
Its hard, Cedric," Ryv finally spoke up, a hand fidgeting with the mask he wore, not dissimilar to Cedric's own face plating. "
When I look at them," his hand motioned out towards other Jedi on the field. "
Any of 'em, I think of my old man. I can't help but feel like he'd still be here if the Silvers didn't abandon the Core," he spoke up between Cedric's two points, going quiet at the mention of Ryv's title. Whether he wanted it or not, Wyatt bestowed the title on him. Ryv wasn't meant to lounge about in the temple anymore, fixing ships and renovating rooms. "
Yeah, you're right," he muttered softly, watching Cedric disappear over the battlements next. Ryv stepped up next, balancing on the ledge, gauging the distance between him and the ground. "
What do you think, pops?" his gaze shifted heavenward, trying to catch sight of the stars hidden far beyond the ships racing above, or the peacefully drifting clouds, a stark contrast to the raging battle below. "
What am I supposed to do?" the Kiffar's questions, not unlike the tension of the battlefield, hung within the air. No answer came, leaving the unsheathed Sword without personal direction.
"
Should've known that wouldn't of worked," Ryv shook his head before stepping forward, plummeting to the earth below. He took a deep breath, his hands pushing outward as his breath escaped him, mirroring the flowing motions of his body. The Force answered his call. wrapping around him like a soft blanket. His legs strengthened as his descent slowed enough to keep him from shattering against the floor. Instead, Ryv landed with cat-like finesse, his hand slamming against the field to enhance his balance. He straightened and moved after Cedric, keeping an eye on the back of the Jedi Lord's head. As he caught up to the two masters, the sound of chanting overtook the battlefield. Thousands of creatures cried out in unison. It sounded of a single, guttural thunderclap echoing across the field, warning of distant danger. Living weapons inched closer, burrowing, crawling, marching, and flying ever closer to the allied forces standing between them and their prize. The rolling thunder grew louder as their monstrous marching beat like drums of war upon the dirt, that distant threat only growing closer, like an arching bolt of lightning as it lit up a dark winter's night.
"
They're coming," Ryv hurried forward, pushing past the rows of soldiers lined up between him and Cedric. He felt the familiar presence of their leader leagues away, joined by another powerful presence within the Force. "
The shaman," he narrowed his eyes, searching the battlefield for both, only managing to notice the towering aberrants tamed by their genocidal masters. "
Cedric! I feel them, they're coming," Ryv finally managed to push past the last group between him and the duo. "
Tathra, I can feel him approaching," he stopped beside the Jedi Lord and Jedi Master. "
I can feel his Force user as well, they are there," he lifted a gloved hand as he spoke, pointing towards a distant monster, its silhouette on the horizon reminiscent of a titanic crown. "
By the Will of the Force, we are bound to face them. There isn't anyone else who can do it, master."
Regardless of the others, Ryv turned and pushed onward. Each step carried him closer to the charging offensive. The Sword of the Jedi was just that, a sword. Beside him, the allied forces of the Silver Jedi Order and Cedric's military charged alongside him. Not unlike the monsters set out to face them, the Ashla's soldiers took up their own battle cry, screaming to the infinite azure, ensuring their voices would be heard in their final moments. Ryv pushed ever-forward, clearing the distance between him and the front of the charge. His body blurred as the Force coalesced around him, carrying him at supernatural speeds, impossible for the common man to replicate. Breaking ahead of his allies, Ryv took up the intricately carved Blade of Ruusan, a cyan blade exploding from its hilt, the legendary Jedi weapon illuminating the battlefield. Its beautiful song spilling over those at Ryv's back, a soothing calm washing over their hammering hearts.
The two forces crashed against one another in a tangle of bodies and cries of pain. Ryv's lightsaber flashed from left to right, batting aside a brute's heavy-handed grip with Force imbued strength. The Jedi Knight thrust outward, a rolling wave of invisible energy crashing against the giants of the 10th regiment, sending a number of them tumbling to the ground, Ryv's will breaking even their mighty strength. Without slowing, he pressed forward, the crowned beast in his sights, the warlords atop it his marks.