Private A Test of Wills

[Faegard]

I L L Y R I A​

T A G: Xobos Yakieer

Illyria was the last place I had expected to find myself.

My condition was still new to me. I was still not entirely sure how everything fit together, how "in-control" I actually was. The urges came, certainly. Up to this point, I had never lost control. However, I was yet unwilling to push myself. That was why I spent a lot of time in Wild Space, tucked away on the Phantasm, meditiating and studying and trying to find some level or proof or approval that I could safely walk among others again.

Agravain had already taken me to a Gala, and while it had been successful, we mostly kept to ourselves, hidden from the immediate presence of those on whome we would feed. As much as I adored my long-time friend, and as much as I felt I owed him for bringing down this condition upon him, I knew I couldn't rely on him to be my conscience. I needed to be able to face this life on my own.

But the Phantasm was a tiny ship - or "vessel" if you're a particularly salty dock clerk on Coruscant. I couldn't hide forever without venturing back to civilisation to refuel and resupply. That was how I found myself on this planet. From the moment my foot touched the planet's surface I knew I'd made a mistake. My stomach churned as I walked away from my ship, leaving her to the mercy of the dock workers as I folded my arms around myself and let my hood shroud my features.

It was evening, the sun mercifully shielded by the shadow of Illyria itself. But with one bane taken care of, another was thrown into sharp relief. I could hear every beating heart within my immediate viscinity. I could feel them moving within the force; feelings and intentions and motives and lives, all rushing about with blood pumping hot and fresh in their veins. I needed to get out, to get away from them. A city had been a bad idea.

"She'll be all fuelled and restocked by tomorrow eve, Ma'am"

The voice of one of the dock workers snapped me out of my haze. I halted, blinking at him. Blood, tangy and sweet, thick and fresh, barely five feet from me. I was so hungry, I could just...

"I'll see you then."

I waved a hand dsimissively and hurried away, cringing as I felt his disappointment and confusion at my abruptness. I'm sorry, I don't want to kill you. I don't want this. I'm sorry. I thought to myself.

I pursed my lips, I needed somewhere to hide for a day, before I could escape back to solitude.​

 

[Xobos Yakieer]

Location: Illyria, Capital City Starport
Equipment: Illyria Knight Armor, Knight Saberstaff, Miralukan Eye Mask
Mental state: Silent.
Tags: | Faegard |

In many ways, since her master’s return back to the planet of Illyria as it’s rightful king, things had changed for her life, many for the better. The providence of Garde Noire was now under her control and it had begun to flourish once again. She had received notoriety among the people of the planet, not just due to her new knighthood, but because of the stories that had spread of her escapades in the mines. Mistress of Shadowcats, they called her. That she had taken a pack of Maalraas under control, who now protected her manner and kinship while one walked among her very presence. Xobos had even taken an apprentice. While it had been rough sledding, at least in the beginning, she knew the girl would turn into something very special if time and care were taken correctly.

And yet, some things stayed the same. She was still Adron Malvern’s apprentice. There were still many things she had yet to learn about the dark side of the force. Despite her new freedom and charges, her roots were not to be forgotten. The mark on her forearm made sure to remind her of that, even when her mind might slip.

That reminder had come in a day full saber training back at the capital that had left the sith lady run ragged. Xobos would’ve never expected to be so happy to finally be back in the spaceport, awaiting transport back to Garde Noire, where she could take the rest of the night and relax before the day’s activities began once again.

As the day was winding to a close, the sun had begun to set on the horizon, coloring the city in a inky red haze. From her position, sitting outside on one of the wooden benches, Xobos was able to relax and take in the last of the ships making their way into the spaceport and how the light danced off their metal. Idly, one of her hands ran down the back of the Great Maalraas’ head, stroking and petting it, while the other drew circles on the wood below. Her ride would be here any moment now, and it would take less than an hour to make it back to her charge.

But something had caught her mind, forcing it’s focus to center on the feeling. It was..odd. A different feeling in the force that she had never felt before. It was dark, yes, much like her own signature might feel, but there was something more…..hungry, about it. Monstrous. Xobos didn’t like it. And whatever was making such an odd feeling emanate through the force was coming to the planet, her eyes focusing on the ship on which this feeling was coming from.

“Sabatora. Come.” The words caught the attention of the Great Maalraas at her side, prompting her to stand as her master did. With a hand on the double bladed hilt attached to her hip, the Knight headed back inside the starport, headed right for where the ship would be landing. She was intent on finding out what this feeling was, and whether or not it posed some sort of threat to the planet she had come to call home.

 

[Faegard]

T A G: Xobos Yakieer

I needed to stop for a few moments.

Gritting my teeth, I came to a halt in the hangar bay, the Phantasm at my back, the few workers on the evening shift milling about. Forcing myself not to think about them, I closed my eyes. Perhaps all that meditation was beginning to come in handy, finally. At first, I felt all of their signatures, their auras, those heartbeats roaring in my ears. I felt their reluctance; that dismissive acceptance of their shifts, the way they numbly went about their tasks, carrying all that blood with them.

A deep breath in, held, and then released... then another. Once more, and I felt it all begin to fade away into the background. My hands found the hem of my cloak, gripping it tightly, focusing sharply on the sensation of the fabric under my fingers. It was soft, smooth; a tight weave of fine threads that made it protective and warm without being heavy or cumbersome...

Ah, that was better.

I opened my eyes, beginning once more to cross the hangar towards the spaceport proper. That was when I felt it. My back went rigid, a jolt of attention snapping me straight up. It was a sharp, distinctive presence, somewhere ahead of me. I knew that energy... that was Sith energy. The last time I'd tangled with the Sith I was merely some meek girl, unworthy of even calling myself Dathormirian. Even now, now that I was so much more... my instincts were to flee. But my ship was grounded for several hours yet, and I couldn't spend those hours holed up inside it.

So I pulled my hood up further over my head, folding my arms and rounding my shoulders. Whatever was ahead would hopefully just consider me unworthy of their attention, and pass right on by.​