Location: Unknown (Selvaris)
Soundtrack: Dead Cells


Cold sweat beaded on Tarus’ forehead, loosening the dried blood on his skin. He gave a hopeful yank against the chains that bound him to the dungeon walls, but just like every time before, they remained unbroken.

The piercing silence was marred only by the heavy clack of boots on flagstone, foreshadowing the inevitable; The Witch was thirsty for his anguish.

A sharp hiss echoed through the otherwise barren chamber, like a menacing announcement of the slavemaster’s arrival. He kept his head low, unwilling to look upon her visage. It was an act of defiance that she didn’t take kindly to, but it was the only thing Tarus could muster.

“Oh, dear boy,” the Witch said cruelly, “don’t hide those darling eyes.”

She slapped the Jedi with tremendous force, the impact bursting several older wounds on his cheek. He reluctantly raised his head, his haunted gaze unyielding. Another form of rebellion.

The Witch licked her lips, pleased to see her commands heeded.

“How long has it been… Master Jedi?” she asked mockingly.

“How long will it be?”

Those two questions had eaten away at Tarus for days… weeks…? Months…?

“It is unwise to hold the Force to time constraints,” Tarus said, but the words barely left his lips before another forceful backhand connected with his temple.

“Watch your tone, pet.”

She circled him, stepping around his shackled frame for several long moments before taking a knee beside him. Her breath was hot and poisonous against his neck.

“The Force has forgotten about you, Master Jedi. Your friends of the Order have forgotten you. I bet that boy you abandoned on Tython has forgotten about you, too.”

Tarus couldn’t help but wince, a reaction that elicited a dark grin from the Witch.

“But I haven’t,” she said, her gravelly voice grating his ears.

“You’re mine now, and I intend to fashion you into something… great.”