Equipment: Greatsaber, Soul-Ring, Pendant
Tag:
Torin Emberlain
The moment her silhouette dropped from the sky like a wounded star, everything else fell away.
"Katherine!"
Torin carved through the nearest Drexl with a furious sweep of his saber, the rain sheeting off his shoulders as he kicked into motion, Force Speed crackling beneath his stride. The world blurred — trees, shadows, rain — until all he saw was her. Falling. Spinning.
Too fast.
He pushed harder.
She broke through the canopy like a broken-winged hawk—closer—closer—
"Got you!" he roared, arms outstretched as he leapt.
Her body collided with his chest, hard, and he twisted mid-air to absorb the impact, skidding across the slick forest floor. Pain sparked up his side, but he held her tight, arms wrapping protectively around her frame.
She didn’t move.
"Katherine?" he breathed, heart seizing.
No response.
No groan. No flutter of lashes. Her head lolled against his chest, limp.
More Drexl shrieked above.
With a growl, he laid her down gently behind him, then rose to his feet, mud-soaked, drenched, furious. He reached into the core of his being and ripped the power from the Force itself.
His hands shot outward.
The repulse burst forth like a thunderclap.
A brilliant white shockwave detonated from his centre, shattering the air. The Drexl were flung like broken dolls into the trees. The forest shook. Rain was torn sideways, flung into mist.
And then—silence.
The kind of silence that chills the marrow.
Even the storm seemed to pause.
Frozen droplets hung midair, glimmering like stars.
Torin stood in the centre, trembling. His breath was fire in his throat.
Then, with a crash like the return of gravity itself, the rain resumed its fury, blinding, battering. Torin breathed in hard.
He turned back.
Kat was still.
Without hesitation, he gathered her into his arms, cradling her as though she might vanish. Her skin was too cold. Her staff lay nearby, and he summoned it to him without looking.
"I’ve got you," he said, more a promise than a comfort.
"You’re safe now. Just hold on."
The forest became a blur. He ran, dodging trees, leaping roots, wind lashing at his soaked robes, until at last, he found shelter: a shallow cave cut into the rock, half-concealed by vines and shadow.
He slipped inside, the storm muted but still loud enough to press in behind them. The cave was damp, narrow, but dry enough. Torin laid her gently on the ground, brushing damp strands from her brow. Still unconscious. Still pale. His jaw tightened.
"Freezing," he murmured, mostly to himself.
He didn’t hesitate.
With steady, respectful hands, he unbuckled the clasps of her sodden gear — her belt, vambraces, gloves — removing each piece with the care of someone tending a fallen comrade. Then her main garments, soaked through and clinging to her skin. He worked quickly but gently, averting his eyes when he needed to, mindful of her modesty even now. Once her body was free of the drenched fabric, he wrapped her in the cloak he had in his satchel, thankfully kept dry, and tucked it around her securely to preserve what warmth he could.
Then he stood, shivering.
His own attire was soaked to the bone. He stripped them off with a wince, every movement now dragging on aching muscles. He laid the clothes out near the cave wall, close enough to the spot he’d chosen for the fire.
Then he stepped out into the torrent.
The storm clawed at him. Every twig was drenched, but he gathered what he could: wet bark, half-dry branches sheltered beneath roots, anything salvageable.
By the time he returned, his skin was numb. He dropped to his knees beside the bundle, stretched out one hand. Sparks spilled from his fingertips. The air shimmered. Heat rolled outward, drying the wood. Bark blackened, then caught. Flames began to rise, flickering bright and slow.
Torin sat back against the wall with a groan. Aches bloomed through his spine, his legs, his ribs. His heartbeat was steady now, but the fire inside — the need to know she was safe — hadn’t faded.
He looked over at her.
Kat lay wrapped in his cloak, lit faintly by the firelight. Her breathing was even, but slow. A bruise or two was forming at her temple.
Torin watched her in silence.
Rain still pounded the world outside.
But here, in the quiet crackle of the cave, he kept vigil, eyes never leaving her.