Private A Scholar at the Edge of Ruin

[Meri Vale]

Meri slowed her steps just enough to keep pace with him as the corridor angled downward, her eyes drifting briefly to the abandoned rooms they passed. The stillness there made her chest feel tight in a way she did not name. When she spoke, her voice stayed quiet, measured, shaped by care rather than fear.

"My life was… structured, at first," she said after a moment. "I had a family. A house. Expectations." Her fingers brushed lightly against the edge of her notebook as if grounding herself. "There were lessons every day. History, languages, and etiquette. I was taught how to listen more than how to speak."

She hesitated, choosing what not to say as carefully as what she did.

"It ended when I was still young," Meri continued, tone steady but softer now. "Too young to really understand what my parents did beyond knowing it mattered. I remember them more for who they were at home than for anything outside of it." A faint pause. "After that, there was a lot of moving. Learning how to stay unnoticed. How to carry only what you can protect."

The temperature dipped again, and she drew a slow breath through her nose, following his instruction without comment, shoulders settling as she exhaled.

"I learned to observe," she added, glancing briefly at the walls as the sconces flared to life. "Places. People. Patterns. Drawing helped. It still does. It makes things feel… survivable."

Her gaze flicked to the darkened stains along the steps, then back to Varin, not alarmed so much as attentive.

"I am not afraid of what knowledge costs," Meri said quietly. "I just want to know what it asks before I agree to pay it."

She adjusted her grip on the coat he had given her and followed him deeper, breath calm, steps careful, eyes open.

Varin Mortifer

 

[Varin Mortifer]

His face grew thoughtful on the keyword of had when she mentioned a family, his steps slowed a fraction.

“...What happened with your family? If I may ask.”

A sincerity rang in his voice of understanding and recognition.

“Learning to observe without being taught is quite a feat. dedication, sharpening and recognizing patterns are but the first steps to learning how to properly observe.”

He stopped just at the threshold of the library before them and slowly turned to face her.

“Be careful with not showing fear, Meri. It can make you do foolish things. If you do not fear it, then you must respect it. It is important that you not only hear and know that, but you must understand it too.”

He looked back into the library, his eye scanning the surroundings as steam rolled from his breath. The heat of his body also caused little tails of steam to evaporate from his shoulders.

He slowly stood inside and his breath faltered for a moment before he acclimated.

“...It’s clear. Come one in.”

He pulled a lantern from his pack and set it on a nearby table powering it on.

“Wherever you go in here, you do not go alone. The door on the other side of the room is off limits. Some things in that room are…still being processed and I do not want any of it tampered with. Do I make myself clear?”

He spoke softly, but authority came over his voice as the nature of what was in that next room was hinted to be of great significance to him.

“Whatever you find that seems interesting, bring it to the table and then when you are done we will head back up for you to study them.”

He watched her for a moment, before he inclined his head past her, inviting her to explore.

Meri Vale​

 

[Meri Vale]

Meri did not answer him right away.

She took another step forward before she realized she had stopped listening to the sound of her own footsteps, her attention drifting inward as his question settled slowly in her chest, heavier than she had expected it to be. The entrance to the library stood just ahead of them, cold stone and lantern light and breath fogging faintly in the air, but for a moment she barely noticed any of it.

What happened with your family?

Her fingers brushed lightly against the edge of a nearby shelf as she passed, lingering there as if the rough texture might ground her, and she drew in a slow breath, trying to decide whether it was kinder to herself to stay quiet or more honest to speak.

"I…" she began, then hesitated, the word trailing off before it could become anything solid.

For a long second, she considered giving him the kind of answer people gave when they wanted to survive conversations rather than inhabit them. Something vague. Something incomplete. Something that could pass without leaving a mark.

But he had not asked lightly, and there was no impatience or curiosity in his voice, only a careful sincerity that made it difficult to hide behind half-truths.

So she exhaled and tried again.

"When I was ten," Meri said softly, her voice steady but fragile around the edges, "my family's house was accused of treason."

She kept her gaze lowered to the stone floor as she spoke, watching the way the lantern light slid across it in thin, wavering lines.

"They said we were hiding information," she continued, her words slow and deliberate. "That we were working against the government. That we were dangerous. That we were undermining things we were supposed to protect."

A faint crease formed between her brows.

"It wasn't true," she added quietly. "None of it was."

Her hands folded together in front of her without conscious thought, fingers threading and unthreading as if they were trying to hold onto something that was no longer there.

"They wanted our archives," she went on after a moment. "Our records. Our research. The things my family had spent generations collecting and protecting. There were rival houses, political factions, people who resented us for being careful and quiet instead of loud and ambitious… and there was someone else, too. A scholar who didn't belong to any of them, who wanted what we had and didn't care what it cost."

Her voice lowered. "So they made it easy for themselves." She paused, swallowing. "They sent soldiers." The words were simple, but they carried too much weight.

"They came in the night," Meri said, almost under her breath. "They sealed the estate. They took everything they could find. The data. The journals. The cores. The physical records. And then…" Her breath caught, only briefly, but enough. "…my family."

Silence settled between them, thick and unmoving, broken only by the faint hiss of breath in the cold air.

After a moment, she forced herself to continue. "My mother hid me," she said. "Under the archive floor. There were old servant tunnels beneath it. Passages that had been forgotten because no one thought they mattered anymore."

A small, fleeting smile touched her lips.

"I used to play in them when I was little," she admitted. "I knew where they narrowed, where the ceiling dipped, where the stones were loose. I remembered which turns led out and which ones didn't."

Her gaze lifted briefly to him, uncertain, searching.

"One of our retainers found me later," she continued. "He led me through the tunnels and out into the city while everything else was still burning. After that…I changed my name. I stopped telling people where I came from. I learned how to move quietly. How not to be noticed."

Her shoulders rose and fell in a shallow breath. "I stayed alive," she finished, not proudly, not bitterly, just honestly. For several seconds, she said nothing more, letting the weight of it sit where it was.

Then, as if remembering where they were and why they were here, she nodded gently at his earlier instructions, grateful for something practical to hold onto. "I understand," Meri said quietly. "I won't go alone. And I won't touch anything you don't want touched."

She stepped fully into the library at last, lantern light reflecting faintly in her eyes as she took in the towering shelves and shadowed corners.

After a moment, she added, almost in a whisper, "Thank you…for asking without turning it into something else." Her fingers brushed the edge of a nearby table as she passed. "And for listening."

Varin Mortifer

 

[Varin Mortifer]

He listened in silence as she spilled out every detail she could. He felt her hesitation, her caution. He did not fault her for it. He kept his distance from her, enough space for her to breathe, enough space for her to know she was not trapped and at any moment if she chose she could close off or leave. He wouldn’t stop her. He took his datapad out once again and opened a locked folder.

Inside the folder were detailed portraits of his family. His mother with her fiery red hair and emerald green eyes, his sister with jet black hair but her mothers eyes and finally his father who remained shrouded in armor.

He gently handed it to her.

“I’m the last of my blood as well, Meri.”

When her gaze found his sister’s portrait he took a deep breath as if looking at a ghost.

“She would have been your age.”

His voice though quiet, reverberated from the old quiet and dark walls.

“She died in my arms. There was nothing in all my power I could do for her.”

His hands gently rested on the table.

“Losing your home and everything you know, has a way of tearing you asunder. But you had the strength to maintain, and even build upon it. Filling the cracks in your foundation and still building, though your temple is not finished, it does not crumble.”

His gaze met hers.

“A part of you died that day, Meri. But, a new part of you was birthed. You clawed your way out with survival. You learned to be careful, and you learned to survive.”

He slowly straightened, towering over her.

“Your lack of stature does not measure the strength you carry. The scars that decorate your body tell that story. A story of someone who was lost, scared and confused.”

He paused for a moment.

“Can still endure this cruel galaxy.”

His fist lightly clenched at his side, the leather glove creaking beneath his grip.

“No one, not even those who hunt you down, can take that from you. Ever.”

Meri Vale​

 

[Meri Vale]

Meri stared at the datapad longer than she meant to.

Not because she was studying the images in any technical way, not because she was trying to memorize faces, but because something in her chest had gone very still, very quiet, the way it did when she realized she was standing in the middle of something fragile and sacred.

She looked at his mother first. Then his sister. Then his father.

And when her eyes returned to the girl who would have been her age, her throat tightened without warning.

For a moment, she could not speak.

Her fingers hovered near the edge of the datapad, never quite touching the screen, as if she were afraid that even that small contact might be disrespectful.

"I'm…sorry," Meri said at last, her voice barely above a breath. "I didn't know."

It felt inadequate. Too small. But it was all she had.

She lowered the datapad carefully and handed it back to him, her movements slow and deliberate, as though she were returning something far more precious than a device.

When he spoke again, when he spoke about her, about what she had survived, about the parts of her that had broken and rebuilt themselves in quiet, unseen ways, she found herself unable to look away. His words did not feel like praise. They felt like recognition. Like someone finally seeing the shape of her life without her having to draw it first.

Her hands folded together in her lap.

"I don't… think I've ever thought of it like that," she admitted softly.

Her gaze drifted to the stone floor, tracing invisible lines between cracks and shadows.

"I just…kept going," she said. "Because stopping didn't feel like an option. If I stopped, I think I would have disappeared. Not…died. Just…faded."

She swallowed.

"I was scared all the time," Meri went on, quieter now. "Even when I pretended I wasn't. Even when I told myself I was being brave. Mostly, I was just trying not to be noticed."

She looked up at him again then, eyes earnest, unguarded.

"I don't feel strong," she confessed. "Most days, I still feel like that little girl hiding under the floor, listening to footsteps and hoping they wouldn't find her. I still feel like I'm just…borrowing time."

Her lips curved into a small, uncertain smile.

"But…I like the idea that I'm still building," she said. "That it's not finished yet. That I haven't failed just because there are cracks."

She drew a slow breath and straightened a little, as if testing that thought, seeing how it fit. "And…thank you," Meri added quietly. "For trusting me with that. About your family. And…for seeing me. Really seeing me." She hesitated, then spoke one more truth, simple and sincere. "You're not alone either," she said. "Not here. Not with me."

Varin Mortifer

 

[Varin Mortifer]

He slowly lifted his hand to cut her apology short.

“You have nothing to apologize for. I do not share this story to show that I need apologies, or sensitivity. I share this to show that even though your darkest moments can dominate you, you can still rise above it.”

He gently took back the datapad and gazed at the image for a moment longer before powering the device down and gently setting it aside as she spoke.

“Fear is a very powerful emotion. It can motivate you to do better, or it can tear you down. You kept moving, afraid you would lose who you are, you may not have felt brave or courageous, but you showed it. And you didn't even realise it.”

He slowly sat on the other side of the table in front of her, his hands gently clasped together on the table.

“Strength comes in many forms, Meri. I have seen it. Anyone who is strong was or is afraid of something at some point. It is how they became strong, lest they be food for the worms. Your strength lies in something that is not physical. You have will. That is a foundation.”

He paused as she gave him thanks and spoke of not being alone and a small smile appeared on his face.

“Lonliness is not always bad. It can bring quiet and peace. Some days it is hard, but we push on. I appreciate the sentiment, but I don't think I am the one who is feeling the loneliness today.”

He looked her in the eyes and slowly pointed a finger towards her.

“You are not alone today. You do not have to look over your shoulder here.”

He slowly sat up straight in the chair.

“Now, where would you like to explore first?”

Meri Vale​

 

[Meri Vale]

Meri was quiet for a long moment after he finished speaking.

Not because she did not understand, but because she did. More than she was ready to admit out loud.

His words settled into her slowly, like dust drifting into the cracks of something fragile and making it stronger instead of heavier. Will. Foundation. Not alone. She turned them over in her mind, testing them, feeling how they fit against the parts of herself she usually kept carefully tucked away.

Her hands rested in her lap, fingers loosely interlaced. When she finally looked back up at him, there was something different in her expression. Softer. A little steadier. A shy kind of understanding that she did not quite trust herself to voice yet.

A small smile touched her lips, hesitant but real.

"I… thank you," she said quietly.

It was simple, but it carried more weight than the words suggested.

Her gaze drifted then, naturally, toward the nearby stacks and shelves, toward the tomes and datapads he had mentioned earlier. Curiosity, familiar and comforting, reasserted itself like an anchor.

She tilted her head slightly, brushing a loose strand of hair behind her ear.

"What do these books say?" Meri asked gently, nodding toward them. "About the temple. About… what it used to be."

Then she glanced back at him, that shy smile still there.

"I think I'd like to start there."

Varin Mortifer

 

[Varin Mortifer]

He glanced over to the pile of books and holodisks.

“It’s difficult to say really. Some are theories, some are theories that disprove others, some are rewrites. There is no real solid answer from this temple as of yet. But, these books make it clear in delving into the minds of the Ashlan Jedi’s minds. How they used to think.”

He gently picked up a book, wiping some of the dust off then glancing at the cover.

“Most are hand written, interestingly enough.”

He slowly opened it, the aged leather spine quietly creaking as he began to turn pages, dust floating off their surfaces like light snowfall to his boots.

“This one seems to be about theories on the Force in general. Forces of morality and right from wrong, how it can all be muddled from person to person.”

He squinted a bit.

“My associate is much more…adept at reading their language than me.”

At the thought of her his chest seemed to lurch lightly within him, as if a buzz of excitement that was then followed by a somberness seemed to fill him when he realised she was not currently with him. He stuffed the feeling away deep inside for now, while he had company.

“You may like her, very knowledgeable in terms of language and their intent on writing them. Almost as if she could peer back to when they were written and she could watch them do it.”

He chuckled lightly, then gently sat the book down in front of her.

“But unfortunately, that is not my forte.”

He shrugged lightly as he stood up and slowly wandered around the table.

Meri Vale​

 

[Meri Vale]

Meri stepped closer to the table as he set the book down, her attention settling onto it with the same quiet gravity she gave to ruins and fractured walls. She did not reach for it immediately. Instead, she studied the cover first, the way the leather had worn thin at the edges, the faint impressions left by hands long gone. Even the dust seemed deliberate here, like a final layer of preservation.

"Handwritten," she repeated softly, almost to herself.

There was something intimate about that. Something human. Ink pressed to the page by a living hand rather than etched into cold data storage. She finally drew the book toward her with careful fingers, opening it gently so as not to strain the spine further. Her touch was reverent, not fearful, but deeply aware that she was handling thought made physical.

"Theories about morality," she murmured as her eyes moved slowly across the script. "That is…ambitious."

Her brow knit slightly, not in confusion, but in concentration. Even if the language was not entirely familiar, patterns still revealed themselves. Structure. Repetition. The way certain concepts were emphasized over others. She tilted her head faintly, absorbing rather than rushing.

"It makes sense that there is no solid answer," she said after a moment, voice thoughtful. "If they were debating morality and the Force, they were likely debating themselves."

Her gaze lifted briefly to him when he mentioned his associate, and she caught the subtle shift in him and the way his tone warmed and then quieted again. Meri noticed things like that. She did not comment on it, but she did understand it.

"She sounds remarkable," Meri said gently. "To understand not just the words, but the intent behind them."

There was no envy in her voice. Only curiosity.

"I do not think that is a lesser skill," she added, glancing back down at the book. "Understanding structure, observing what remains, is also a way of reading. Just…a different language."

She turned another page carefully, fingertips tracing the margins without touching the ink.

"If they were writing about morality," she continued quietly, "then perhaps this temple was not meant only as a place of power. Perhaps it was meant as a place of doubt."

A faint, thoughtful smile touched her lips.

"I would like to try," she said, looking up at him again. "Even if I only understand pieces. Sometimes pieces are enough."

Varin Mortifer

 

[Varin Mortifer]

He watched as she worked through the process in her head, speaking outwardly of the process in moments as well. His head tilted a bit.

“Not only a place of doubt, these Jedi seemed, different. Where some shut out new ideas, certain question and at times even challenge against their dogma, this group seemed to thrive in it.”

He paused when she spoke of Seren, a small smirk tugging at his lips before they relaxed back to a neutral state.

“She is absolutely remarkable. Talented and far beyond me.”

He chuckled, then straightened himself back up.

“No, it certainly is not a lesser skill. It takes much practice of patience and challenge. But she prevailed and gained such wisdom and insight.”

He looked over to the books lost in thought of the time they had spent together in this library, and its trials. When Meri spoke next of saying she would like to try he looked back at her and smiled lightly.

“Very well. There are a multitude of books to choose from. Perhaps you will find something even she missed.”

His hands pulled behind his back, folding over one another in a stance of disciplined patience.

“The table only has a very select few we were able to grab beforehand. There is certainly a lot more in here if you wish.”

His gaze followed along the walls and shelves around them, down to the few toppled shelves that he had thrown down during their fight with the creature from that night, untouched and unmoved since that night.

He slowly walked around the table, glancing at the tomes and holodiscs sitting in wait to be heard or read.

Meri Vale​

 

[Meri Vale]

Meri followed his gaze as it drifted along the shelves and the fallen stacks, her eyes lingering on the damaged cases before returning to the book in front of her. She closed it carefully, resting her hand on the cover as if afraid it might crumble if she were careless.

"They…sound different," she said quietly after a moment. "Not like the stories people usually tell about Jedi."

She hesitated, searching for the right words.

"Most of the time, it sounds like everyone is supposed to already know what is right," Meri continued softly. "And if they do not…they get in trouble for it. But these ones…" She glanced back at the shelves. "It feels like they were allowed to be confused."

Her mouth curved into a small, uncertain smile.

"I think I would like that," she admitted. "Being allowed to not understand everything right away."

When he mentioned Seren again, Meri noticed the way his voice shifted, even if he tried to hide it. Her expression softened.

"She sounds really important to you," Meri said gently. "Like…like someone you trust a lot."

She slid off her seat and stood, brushing dust from her hands before moving closer to the shelves. Her steps were careful, especially near the broken sections, as she reached for a thin, worn book and eased it free.

"I do not think I will find anything she missed," Meri added quickly, almost embarrassed by the idea. "She sounds…way better at this than me."

She turned the book over in her hands, studying the faded markings.

"But maybe I will understand something in my own way," she said. "Sometimes I notice small things. Not important ones. Just…details."

She looked back at him, a little shy now.

"Could you stay nearby while I look?" Meri asked quietly. "It is easier when I am not by myself."

Then, after a pause, she added with a faint, hopeful smile,

"And if I get confused, you can tell me if I am completely wrong."

Varin Mortifer

 

[Varin Mortifer]

Varin gave her a simple small bow at her request.

“I won’t be far.”

He walked behind her keeping the lantern close to them so she could see.

“Even masters of architecture need fresh eyes to see new angles. Seren is definitely a master of her craft, but a new perspective can shine a light on anything.”

As they passed a couple of toppled shelves he spoke softly to her.

“I think you need to give yourself more credit, Meri. You told me you see things other people can’t when you inspect areas of great history. Research is not very different.”

His breath fogged as he spoke, his gaze tracing the walls around them.

“A sense of what is wrong and what is right changes from person to person, believe it or not. It starts small, but builds and builds until finally, you find a civilization that operates on completely different morales and laws than you do. It becomes alien.”

He looked back down at her.

“But to them, what you call normal is alien.”

He stepped just past her.

“The Sith and Jedi are no different. Two sides of the same coin, both follow two different codes, two different sets of morals.”

His finger traced over the dusty old tomes on the shelves as he walked by them.

“An example. On perspective.”

He paused.

“Lets say, you are in the market, you see someone running and behind them is their pursuer yelling stop them, and you decide to intervene and stop them.”

He looked back at her.

“How would you know the chaser was not the victim trying to escape a psychopath?”

He paused again.

“Perspective changes everything with each person.”

Meri Vale​

 

[Meri Vale]

Meri walked beside him in quiet concentration, the lantern's glow tracing warm shapes over stone and shadow as she listened. She nodded along at his words, small and thoughtful, absorbing each idea as if carefully placing it somewhere inside her to think about later.

When he spoke about fresh eyes and different perspectives, she glanced up at him briefly, a flicker of shy appreciation crossing her face before she looked back to the shelves. Her fingers brushed lightly along the spines of the books as they passed, careful not to disturb them more than necessary.

At his explanation about morals and civilizations, she slowed just a little, brow knitting as she tried to follow the thread of it. It made sense in pieces, even if the whole picture still felt too big to hold all at once.

She nodded again. Slowly. Thoughtfully.

But when he finished with his example, Meri stopped.

Just for a second.

Her head tilted, pale eyes narrowing slightly in confusion as she replayed his words in her mind. Running. Chasing. Victim. Psychopath. The pieces did not line up as she expected.

She shook her head gently.

"That is…a bit confusing," Meri admitted quietly.

She looked up at him, genuinely puzzled rather than dismissive.

"Why would the victim be chasing the psychopath?" she asked. "Would not the victim be the one trying to get away?"

Her voice held honest curiosity, not argument. She was trying to understand, trying to fit his example into something that made sense to her.

After a moment, she added softly,

"I think I would probably just…freeze and not know what to do."

There was a faint, self-conscious smile at that.

"Unless someone looked really hurt. Then I would probably run to them without thinking first."

Varin Mortifer

 

[Varin Mortifer]

The confusion on her face told him everything he needed to know of how she possibly processed the galaxy. He didn't blame her. It is a very confusing world at times. He simply gave her a soft smile.

“Sometimes the world is simply confusing Meri. Not everything will make sense to you, or even to me.”

He gave a soft sigh.

“But we take it in strides and try to learn from it.”

A shiver ran up his spine as the cold started to seep into his body, his breath still coming up as a plume of steam.

“It is almost time to head back up.”

He spoke softly as he stayed near her as per her request.

“No need to rush at this moment. Do take your time. If something grabs your attention then by all means, bring it up to the surface with us.”

Though he had been spending some time trying to get his body used to the cold in the desert nights of Korriban, certain thresholds tended to stay out of his reach.

“What are some places you have visited Meri? Tell me of some of your travels.”

His hands slowly folded behind his back as he waited patiently for her stories.

Meri Vale​

 

[Meri Vale]

Meri listened quietly as he spoke, her eyes lingering on his breath as it fogged faintly in the cold air. She had noticed the way he shifted his weight, the subtle tightening in his posture, the way he stayed close without hovering. It registered as care, even if he did not frame it that way.

When he mentioned heading back up, she hesitated for only a moment, then nodded.

"Okay," she said softly. "I think…I have enough for now."

She glanced back toward the nearest shelf, then toward the table, as if mentally retracing what she had already gathered. After a second's thought, she moved again, careful with her footing, and selected two more small items: a thin, cracked holodisc case and a narrow, leather-bound booklet whose pages had warped slightly with age. She turned them over in her hands, considering, then tucked them carefully against her datapad.

"These might be useful," she murmured, more to herself than to him. "At least…later."

Only then did she straighten properly and look back at Varin.

At his question, she blinked once, surprised, then tilted her head slightly as she thought.

"I have not been…everywhere," she admitted. "But…I have been to a few places."

She shifted her grip on the items she carried, settling them more securely.

"Panathea," she said first, quietly. "That was…a long time ago." Her voice softened, but she did not linger on it. "And Amar. For a while."

A faint, almost shy smile touched her lips.

"And Naboo," she added. "That is…where I stay now. When I am not traveling."

Her gaze drifted briefly, unfocused, as she searched her memory.

"There are others," she continued after a moment. "Smaller ports. Stations. Places I passed through quickly." She shrugged slightly. "I do not remember all of their names anymore. But I write them down. In my notes. So…I do not forget completely."

She looked back up at him then, a little apologetic, a little self-conscious.

"I think I travel more on paper than in person sometimes," Meri said softly. "But…I like seeing how different places fit together. How they change people."

She nodded once toward the passage leading back up.

"We can go," she added gently. "Before it gets colder."

Varin Mortifer

 

[Varin Mortifer]

VARIN MORTIFER

Equipment: Durum Mantle | Black Blade of Chandrila | Eye of The Dragon | Heavy Sith Mace​

Varin helped her gather her things from the table as she spoke of her travels. He paused when she mentioned Naboo, then continued to help.

“Naboo? That's a long way from here.”

He stood up with some of the other books in his arms, then slowly started to lead the way back up the steps.

“Do you miss your home, Meri?”

He spoke quietly as he walked up the steps with her.

“Did you ever think of retaking it?”

His question settled in the cold silent air around them, a cold chill entering the room that was not present before.

“I could help you. I could help you with getting revenge for your family, your home. I could help give you your life back.”

He looked down towards her, a more serious look on his face.

“Don’t answer now. Think on it.”

He continued up the steps until the living space came into view. It was night time now, the moon held high into the sky as the red sands now reflected a dull darker color, a contrast of their prior color.

“Naboo would not help you with such an endeavor, they would rather sooner kick you out than help you with personal matters. They would say you need to let it go, while those guilty of spilling blood walk free, while they continue to send hunters to you.”

He looked back at her once again.

“That does not seem heroic to me.”

He spoke quietly as he walked into the living space, gently setting the books down on the table.

Sinew picked her head up from her bed and began walking towards them to greet them, her small stub tail wagging from excitement.

Varin scratched behind her ears.

“Think on that, Meri.”

Meri Vale​

 

[Meri Vale]

Meri followed him up the steps in a rhythmic, careful silence, her arms tightened around the stack of books as if they were the only thing keeping her tethered to the floor. The physical weight of the volumes was a familiar comfort, a burden she understood, but Varin's words. The casual mention of Naboo and the danger she thought she'd buried had settled in her chest with a much more suffocating gravity.

By the time they reached the living space, she had grown preternaturally still, her movements slowing until she was almost a ghost in the room.

Across the floor, Sinew's tail offered a rhythmic, happy thumping, a sound of pure, uncomplicated joy. Meri watched through a haze of mounting tension as Varin reached down to scratch behind the creature's ears. She took the opportunity to finally set the books down where he indicated, but she didn't let go immediately. Her fingers lingered against the worn, textured covers, her nails digging slightly into the leather as she tried to ground herself against the sudden vertigo of the conversation.

The silence stretched for several seconds, broken only by the hum of the ship and the dog's contented breathing. When she finally spoke, her voice was a fragile thread, barely louder than the air scrubbers.

"Nobody...nobody has ever told me that," she murmured. She couldn't bring herself to look at him yet; her gaze remained fixed on the table, tracing the wood grain as if it were a map of a world she no longer recognized. "Why would I want to return to a world that has stopped looking for me? A world that...that forgot I existed?"

She hesitated, her throat tightening. The next words were forced out, one by one, heavy with the weight of a past she had tried to erase.

"I was a nob—"

The word died halfway up her throat, catching on a sudden, sharp spike of fear. She closed her mouth gently, a soft exhale escaping her as she mentally severed the thought. It was an old title, a ghost of a girl who had died in a fire and a purge. She didn't want to claim it anymore; she didn't want the target it painted on her back.

"But I am not that person anymore," she said, her voice gaining a tiny, factual edge. She folded her hands in front of her, her fingers gripping one another so tightly her knuckles went white. "I have been on my own for a long time. I am just... me."

Finally, she forced herself to look up. It was a monumental effort, her eyes lifting to study his face with the same agonizing, hyper-fixated attention she gave to the cracks in an unstable archway. She was looking for a sign of a trap, of a lie, of a threat.

"How do you know about hunters, Varin?"

The small crease between her brows deepened, a sign of her mind working through a puzzle that didn't have enough pieces. Her voice didn't rise; it stayed soft and airy, but a sharp, shivering caution had bled into the tone.

"I never told you my name. Not the real one. Just the name I use to survive."

She took a half-step back, her shoulder blades almost touching the bulkhead behind her, her posture shrinking as if she could pull her spirit inward and disappear entirely.

"How can I know to trust you?" she whispered, the question hanging in the air like a bared blade. "If you know what I am...then you know how dangerous it is for me to be seen."

Varin Mortifer

 

[Varin Mortifer]

VARIN MORTIFER

Equipment: Durum Mantle | Black Blade of Chandrila | Eye of The Dragon | Heavy Sith Mace​

Varin felt the tense shift within her, the sudden realization of truth of being able to retake her home. When she posed the question of why she would want to go back if the world had forgotten her his head tilted in curiosity, his eyes sharpened when she cut off her sentence.

“When home has forgotten you, that is the perfect time to strike. They would never see you coming, they would underestimate you. Regardless of if you are different than what you were before, home is still your home, and it was unjustly taken from you.”

His posture straightened at her next question, about the hunters and how he knew of them. He did not press closer, he maintained distance and neutrality. It was a delicate subject he knew very intimately.

“When you suffer and go into hiding like you do, there is always someone after you. I had simply made an educated guess, and you confirmed it.”

He took a deep breath and slowly released, the tension in the air was still tight like a cramped muscle refusing to bend or flex correctly. There was pain, there was uncertainty…and there was fear. He smelt it.

“You are not in danger here. I only know what you are because your family must have held some importance to be attacked like they were. I have lived it too. But I refuse to bend my knee to those who had taken my home. I could help you gain that strength, Meri. I would swear an oath to make sure you took your home back, that you avenged your family and took their killers.”

He paused, a small breath hung in the air of the temple, he stayed where he was like a statue, unbent and unafraid.

“Naboo would never give you that chance. They would only wish you follow their rules, their teachings. You would be at a desk writing and drawing of course, but you would be chained.”

His eye relaxed as it reflected a sense of familiarity.

“I can help shatter those chains. I can take away that fear, I can heal the pain and I can give you strength.”

He gently held out his hand.

“Kor’ethyr has so much more to offer for you. You seek knowledge and secrets, we can give you the tools for such passion, whereas Naboo would sooner wave off your curiosity and call your passion evil. But when does love for something become evil? And who are they to say that it is?”

He stood in the center of the room by the sand pit, still giving her space, still not crowding her.

“I will not force this decision on you, I only offer the opportunity.”

Meri Vale​

 

[Meri Vale]

Meri didn't move. His hand stayed there, outstretched, but she remained anchored behind the table. The books were still stacked neatly between them, a paper and ink wall she wasn't ready to tear down. Beside her, Sinew's tail gave a few heavy thumps against the floor before going still. The little creature knew the air had turned thick and heavy, even if she couldn't name the danger.

Meri just listened. She didn't interrupt; she let every word he spoke land and settle.

Her face was a mask of calm, but her eyes were racing. It was the look she got when she was staring at a complex architectural blueprint. She wasn't looking at the beauty of the arches, but searching for the one hairline fracture that would make the whole ceiling collapse.

Finally, she spoke. Her voice was small, but it didn't shake.

"What even is Kor'ethyr?"

It wasn't a challenge; it was a genuine request for a definition. She didn't wait for the answer before moving on to the logic that was bothering her.

"You said Naboo would chain me up with rules," she said, her brow furrowing as she worked through it. "But if I went with you, you'd be my master, right? That's what you said. So I'd just be serving you instead of an institution. And I'd stay serving you until I was strong enough to... what? Replace you? Kill you?"

She tilted her head, her braid sliding over her shoulder. To her, this didn't sound like freedom. It sounded like a trap.

"That's still a chain. It's just a different color."

She went quiet for a few seconds, her gaze drifting to the books. They were her comfort zone, her safe harbor.

"And the thing about curiosity being 'evil'... nobody at Naboo has told me that. Mostly, they just tell me I should ask more questions. They don't seem scared of what I'll find."

She looked back at him, and for a second, she looked older than fifteen. There was a sharp, sudden flash of insight in her gray eyes.

"If what you're offering is actually stronger, if it's so much 'freer', then why haven't you guys already won? If rules make people weak, and you don't have any, you should have overtaken everyone by now. Right?"

She bit her lip, thinking of a verse she'd found in an old, dusty volume back in the archives.

"I read a poem once. It discussed whether it was better to serve in Heaven or to rule in Hell. But the more I think about it, the poem wasn't really about power or where you end up. It was about whether the person actually had a choice to begin with."

Her fingers twisted together tightly. She looked at his hand again, then back to his face.

"If the only way I can stop being scared is to belong to you...Then it's not a choice. It's just a trade."

Her shoulders dropped, the tension bleeding out into a weary kind of resolve. She didn't want him to be angry; she just wanted him to see the structural failure in his own argument.

"I'm not going to Naboo," she whispered. "But I'm not going with you, either."

She felt a cold shiver go down her spine as she realized what she'd just done. She had basically told a man who could probably crush her with a thought that his entire way of life was a lie. Her heart was hammering against her ribs like a trapped bird, and she half expected the room to explode, or for him to stop being "kind" and start being the monster the stories warned about. But beneath the fear, there was a tiny, flickering spark of something new. For the first time in years, she wasn't just running from a fire or hiding in a tunnel. She was standing her ground. It was terrifying, and she felt like she might get sick, but she realized that "belonging" to him wouldn't make the fear go away. It would just give the fear a name and a face.

Varin Mortifer

 

[Varin Mortifer]

VARIN MORTIFER

Equipment: Durum Mantle | Black Blade of Chandrila | Eye of The Dragon | Heavy Sith Mace

His hand slowly pulled back as she gave her rebuttals, her thoughts and her answers. He knew what her answer would be in time and it would be her choice, but eventually whatever answer she gave would not matter. Her fate would lead her down the path she was meant to be in, if that meant she were to be an enemy, well,…then so be it.

But he would not treat her as such. Not right now at least.

He saw the spark in her eye, the moment where conflict grounded and bound together, scraping and pulling against one another.

A slight smile pulled to his face.

“No, I would not be your master. I do not have that capability. Not yet at least. You would not be bound to me, or even another master unless you chose otherwise.”

His hand settled within his other behind his lower back. His posture still neutral and relaxed.

“Naboo has not shunned you yet because you have not asked the right questions yet.”

He stepped back and faced the wall behind him, observing its carvings. Letting the phrase hang in the air for her to process.

“Already, within this short span of time on this planet, you have overcame great fear, and great conflict within yourself. That is bravery, and I was able to help you accomplish that.”

He slowly looked to her.

“We are not enemies. I offered you freedom of choice and I will not go back on it. I will not shun you for it and I will not make you an enemy based on your decisions. What you do with your decisions and its…consequences, that is on you.”

He fully turned to face her, his body still relaxed, but in a stance of discipline.

“You are always welcome here to study, or if you just need quiet, and who knows, if you change your mind, the offer is still on the table for you.”

He offered her a soft smile.

“Please, feel free to read and study now, if you still wish. My offer of sanctuary still stands.”

Meri Vale​