It was done.

She had made the choice.

No doubt the Board thought it was an irrelevant stunt. The royal brat was clearly just having a tantrum. She would ultimately be a non-factor.

After all, business was continuing as usual. Firemane resorts continued to be frequented by happy tourists and their families; Firemane factories continued to churn out weapons and machines; Firemane coffee, wine and fashion continued to find eager consumers; Firemane arkstations continued to welcome immigrants seeking a new future in the stars.

By now rumours were spreading about the 'work camps' and 'vocational training centres'. Firemane news was not giving airtime to witnesses and survivors whose story did not match the script, but even so people talked. But it didn't matter. Far easier for an employee to express disapproval in a general sense that didn't entail risk or commitment, continue to collect their paycheck and go home.

Damn them all to hell.

Oh, sure, there was some outrage, both real and performative, on Spacebook, Fwitter and such. But megacorps with abusive practices were a dime a dozen. There would be some outrage, Firemane would make token apologies and pay some compensation, and the news cycle would move on. There were Sith conspiracies, celebrity scandals, and Jedi hot tubs for the plebs to focus on.

But she didn't forget.

If she had to cast the uniform she'd, for all her doubts and her resentment of her mothers, worn proudly for years into the fire, so be it. If she had to cast countless Firemane executives and into the fire, so be it.

She didn't forgive.

Nor did the Xioquo who filled the dark chamber she was led into. All were female, and many of them adults. Many bore the marks of war or cruelty. Much of it inflicted on them by their former mistresses, but others were more recent and caused by humans. Their faces were solemn, determined, vengeful. Once Elpsis had scorned the Daughters of the Destroyer. Just a few weeks ago what she was about to do would've appeared absurd to her. But...there was more to them than being Siobhan-worshipping cultists. There was strength, resolution and honour here.

She'd cast aside her green Firemane uniform, and donned a simple white robe. The steps of her boots resonated against the cold stone floor. There were murmurs among the crowd as she passed them. The chamber was dimly lit, illuminated only by candle light. At the centre of the chamber stood a stone altar, and a small table with a bowl. The walls were decorated by murals, showing the oppression of the Xioquo, and their liberation at the hands of the Karishzar, who smote the wicked. Elpsis knew her as Siobhan Kerrigan. She didn't think her mother was...good. She had created the conditions that made Firemane the beast it was. But...she had done some good. Elpsis could accept that the Daughters venerated the idea of her, as much as it gnawed at her. Other murals showed demons dragging evildoers into the burning light, where they suffered eternal torment, while the shadows fielded the righteous.

One Xioquo female dressed in robes stood by the altar. Her white hair was long and straight, with part of her skull completely shaved. Her piercing eyes were set on Elpsis, and though blind the human felt her gaze upon her. The sheer intensity of it was unnerving. But she didn't flinch. "Who comes out of the burning light into the shadows? Who seeks the the embrace of her sisters?" High Priestess Quas'Ziru spoke. Her Basic was very accented, but understandable. To Elpsis, her aura looked like a coiled shadow, flecked with little flames of determination.

"Karrigan'Alpsis, the Young Phoenix, Heir of the Destroyer," Karrigan'Lalax, Elpsis' guide, answered. In deference to Elpsis' limited linguistic skills, the priestesses were using Basic before switching to Xio so that the other sect members could follow.
"Grim is the time," Ziru said gravely. "Many are the oppressed who yearn for release from shackles of steel and the mind. What righteous deeds has she performed? Has she smote the betrayers and enchainers of the Xioquo? Has she given any care to the sick, the lost, the hungry or the wounded?"
"She has," Lalax answered, voice firm. If Ziru was a coiled shadow, then the priestess was like flowing water, ordered and calm, rippled by the occasional eddy. "Across the stars, under them and in the caverns she has fought the evils. She has despised iniquity, challenged the tyrannical and aided the lowly. She has been the burning fire, cleaning the wicked. Though not Xio she is heir of the Karishzar and carries her legacy."

"Alpsis of Karrigan," Ziru stared at her with an unnerving intensity, "is it your wish to join your sisters in the shadows? Do you pledge to defend your sisters and all Xioquo to your dying breath? To burn away the enchainers with righteous wroth? Do you pledge to be as a sister unto the Daughters? To uphold the ideals of the Karishzar?"
"Yes," Elpsis with a firmness that surprised even her. She spoke the single word in Xio. Her very limited linguistic skills sufficed for that at least. Siobhan had never loved her, and she'd never love her back...but she could accept upholding the part of her legacy that had been constructive. "I the spirits, and the Lifeweb, I'll protect the people, I'll burn the slavers," she paused, her dead, milky-white eyes darting across the assembled Xioquo. Some she knew had been in one those camps, others had helped her burn one down. "I'm just one person, I can't do it alone. But I swear to you...those who harmed you will die screaming."

"Do you take her pledge to be true? Do you accept her amongst the Daughters of the Destroyer? Speak now, sisters in the shadows!" Ziru called out, eyes cast upon the crowd.
"We do!"
"Let the Heir unsheath the Karishzar's sword!" Most of the Daughters who raised their voices to the heavens obviously spoke in Xio, and as such Elpsis only understood a fraction of their words, but she got the gist of it.
Finally, Ziru raised her hands to silence the clarion calls. "Your sisters have spoken. For long have I watched your deeds from afar. For years you have wandered across the stars, facing the wicked who would hide in the burning light. May the shadows of the Underealm be your shelter, for in darkness there is wisdom. Tyrants from the stars wrap new chains around our limbs. Are you prepared to shed blood with your sisters? Are you willing to bind your compact in blood?"
"Yes," Elpsis spoke firmly.
Reaching into her robe, Lalax handed her a dagger. When Elpsis took it by the hilt, she could perceive the elaborate runed engraved upon the weapon through the Force. She knew what was expected of her and without further ado she sliced into the palm of her organic hand.

Elpsis wiped the bloodied hand on her robe, staining the white fabric. A drop escaped into the bowl beneath her. Then she held up her bloody hand, to the cheers of the assembled Daughters, who drew their daggers and held them high into the air.
"One bleeds, we all bleed! Many voices, one purpose!" they roared.
Once the crescendo had died down, Elpsis sheathed her blade. Lalax gave her a hug, and kissed her on both cheeks. One of the Daughters approached her, bandage in hand. "Heir," she said respectfully.
"Elp...Alpsis. Your name?"
"Karrigan'Zeltzin?" taking Elpsis' bloodied hand, she applied a salve and wrapped a bandage around it. "Come, meet your new sisters," she said in accented Basic.
"I'd like that."

Just as they were about to begin their walk, Karrigan'Xalda hastened towards them. "Zeltzin...Alpsis, I greet you," she declared...earnestly.
Elpsis blinked. "You used my name." It was the first time Xalda called her by her name instead of 'Offspring of the Destroyer'.
"That is correct," Xalda said...earnestly. Elpsis suppressed a sigh. Xalda was...odd. But the Xioquo warrior was trying, and she was strong and loyal. Her aura resembled a shifting bar of metal, sometimes cool and hard, sometimes burning and flowing.
"It feels pleasant to say it. I am pleased to welcome you among our sisterhood."
"Yeah, me, too. Xalda." To her surprise, Elpsis realised she meant it.
"May I...embrace you?" the Xioquo asked tentatively.
Elpsis was tempted to say no, but nodded. "Sure."
The moment the word had left her lips, Xalda pulled her into a tight embrace. Somewhat awkwardly Elpsis returned the gesture, though she kept it looser to make sure her cybernetic arm did not hurt the Xioquo. Up close, Elpsis could smell the other woman's scent. Xalda had the scent of flowers that bloomed in the Underealm. Leaning forward, Xalda kissed her sweetly on each cheek, and Elpsis mirrored the gesture. "I have leads," the Xioquo whispered. "You will be interested."
Elpsis felt the glowing cracks in her face flare. "Tell me."
"Not now. After the initiation. Then we shall wet our blades with the blood of the oppressors."
Elpsis' lips curled into a grim smile. "We shall, Xalda. We shall."
"Come, sister," Zeltzin urged, taking her arm.

And she walked through the crowd, Elpsis felt a sense of...acceptance. Some of the Daughters bowed, but none fawned. Soon they included her in their conversations, with the awkwardness mostly fading away. She could be free. She need not be corrupted by Tegaea's greed and cowardice or chained by Siobhan's legacy anymore. Because what that damn 'legacy' meant would be up to her. It would be a purifying flame of justice. Tegaea Alcori was gone. Siobhan Kerrigan was gone. Elpsis Kerrigan - Karrigan'Alpsis - remained. It was her house now. Her legacy.

She felt the ethereal presence of the Burning Lady, looking over her shoulder. A wildfire you are, but a much needed one. To wash away the vile and decadent, and promote new growth by burning away the old.