Private Acolytes of Korriban

[Naniti]

It certainly was easier to breath even in the main Hall without the Force trying to choke the life out of them. How did the Force come to be like that anyway? Was there something they couldn't fathom guiding it, or was it just echoes of the past? Whatever the truth, it was oppressive. To think Masters of the Dark 'communed' with it religiously like that. Some of them even held low-key competitions of who lasted longer. At least those were the rumors among Acolytes.

"You're right." Lysander was speaking sense. Maybe the Temple really had started to get to her. Should she prioritize mental defense training? "If I can't overcome a bunch of dead people, how can I overcome the living?" Alright, probably didn't work that way, but for a motivational pep-talk it wasn't bad. That's what she told herself.

The Togruta chuckled as they made for the exit. "So would I, I guess. People find out you acquire something and suddenly they want it for themselves." But that wasn't really avoidable as a Sith was it? Eventually you had to acquire something to be raised in the social hierarchy. By virtue of just possessing that higher rank people would come for you. "Put that off until I'm powerful enough, right?" A blue eye looked back at Lysander, curious if he thought that was the right approach.

Still, it would also keep some of the thick speciesist types from bothering her. Life was still simple for a humble Acolyte.

At Lysander's question, however, Naniti drew the hilt of her saber, but did not ignite it. She looked down at it in the palm of her hand. "It works." After a scoff mixed with a laugh, she added, "What more do you expect from a blade of plasma? Though I wouldn't mind if it was a bit more... personal. If this is supposed to be the only thing between life and death, shouldn't it be less mass produced? Less 'you arrived, have a weapon?'" A little something to the design. Maybe the grip. Placement of the controls. And was violet the right crystal color for her? Sure, it matched her skin, but not the most important attribute.

Naniti wouldn't mind it always matching her skin color. It wasn't a strategic benefit; just a bit of vanity.

Deep philosophical meaning behind the color? It was usually Red or Bust with Sith, so trying to ascribe meaning to the color was a bit... excessive.

A squint and raising of the hand to shield her eyes accompanied the duo emerging back into the sandy, dusty, and desolate exterior. "More training?" A curl at the corner of the lip hopefully conveyed it was a jest. Plenty of things to train other than 'will you immediately be driven mad?' "Well, if you're offering, is the local cuisine something of note? Because if this is an invitation to suffer at a different mess hall, maybe we should just suffer together in a Valley of power-mad Lords."

Lysander von Ascania

 

[Lysander von Ascania]

Naniti
​

Lysander’s tone was far more thoughtful than chiding. “At least as I’ve seen it, power doesn’t keep people away. It only changes the kind of people who come for you.” It wasn’t meant to be cold, just how he believed the way things truly worked.. without cruelty.. or comfort. His head tilted, pale hair falling across the side of his face.

“The living are harder than the dead. Ghosts don’t adapt.. but people do.” A soft exhale left him. “Letting people underestimate you is the only kindness the galaxy gives. Buy yourself time.. build quietly.”

His jaw moved in a contemplative shift. “There’s truth in what you’re feeling,” he added.

Then, he found himself drawn to her saber, shifting his stance without thinking.. an adjustment of weight. There was something in the Togruta’s tone that he recognized. “I get it, Naniti. You want something that truly answers you. Not something that just.. obeys.”

A breath lingered in his chest. His helm. His sword. Both still uncompleted pieces.. waiting for him back on Ukatis.. unfinished, like chapters he wasn’t allowed to write yet. The process had been slower than he wanted, but not without purpose.

“Something the others will remember you by later. Maybe even something that tells your story.”

Another idea sat well with him.. tracking rare materials, traveling to gather the materials the Academy would never hand freely. Even hunting down a Jedi and taking their possessions sounded intriguing. It also sounded like an adventure. Maybe just another excuse to get away from the Academy. He was a professional at that.

“I wouldn’t want to overstep your Master, but if you wanted to make something yours, I could help.”

He breathed out a controlled exhale. “More training,” Lysander repeated, tasting the idea. He found himself caught between a laugh and admitting that he had indeed considered it. “I wasn’t planning to torture you.”

A hand lifted to brush dust from his sleeve. “The cuisine here isn’t notable, but I wouldn’t dare invite you to another mess hall. I may know a place where the cooks haven’t given up on life entirely.”

The first step away from the temple’s ancient maw was taken, then another. Ahead, in a narrow path, there would be a cluster of vendors, some cooking over open flames.

The food smelled.. not terrible. Which was high praise for Korriban. A culinary triumph.

Lysander’s nose lifted just a fraction.. hardly visible unless one was watching him from close enough to notice such things.

His mind returned to the nexus. The trek by foot alone would demand patience.

“The Gate of Graush won’t open to one alone, as I understand it. There is a stone that is to be lifted and must be accompanied by lightning and flame.”

The process in his head definitely sounded far sharper than the way it came out of his mouth now. “The ritual itself is said to weaken the Force.. that is the first test. And it’s something I cannot complete without you.”

 

[Naniti]

Naniti looked over at her companion. "Do you desire power, Lysander?" Honestly, she expected every Sith she ever met to be a power-hungry, selfish walking disaster. That's what she'd been taught. By a 'traditionalist.' He wasn't a traditional sort of person, however. She could tell by the way he interacted with her. Oh, sure, it could be an elaborate and insanely convincing ruse, but that didn't seem to be the case. So, if he wasn't what she expected, Naniti had to wonder what his motives really were.

"Be the Togruta woman struggling to prove herself?" she asked with a smile. Wouldn't be hard to get people to underestimate her. All she had to do was not be first in class. Don't stand out as her Master said so no one looked too closely. Carry on carrying on.

Which was precisely why she daydreamed of finding something truly remarkable. Who didn't dream of the things they didn't have or seemingly never would?

That being true, Naniti took note of what Lysander said. How he described her lightsaber in particular. Obedience. Her fingers curled about the hilt for a moment as her eyes fell to it. An odd way to describe an inanimate object. She might think it spoke of his mindset, but Lysander hadn't been cruel to her. Well, he often did come around asking her to go somewhere or do something, but he hadn't just seized her arm and dragged her someplace. Granted, she often acquiesced to his suggestions.

Was that a bad thing? None of the experienced had been negative, and they were things she wanted to do. Mostly. Basking in a pool of the Dark Side with its hunger to destroy her might not have been something she yearned for had she known ahead of time. Besides the point.

When he spoke of it telling her story, on the other hand, that sounded better. The Togruta wasn't certain what story there'd be to tell or whom it was meant to be told to, but it was something. A good lightsaber could last ages.

"My Master?" Naniti looked back up at Lysander. "They're off Force-knows where leaving me to soak up hard lessons at the Academy. So if I learn how to make a lightsaber it's because the Force wanted me to," she replied with mischievious defiance in the eyes. The Force in this case working in mysterious ways through Lysander.

After she slipped the hilt away, the Togruta shrugged. "Life is torture, Lysander, we're just learning how to bear it." She stepped in a little closer to elbow him in the side. "We do that by training." Even if it was training in how to dance before scrutinizing, prideful gazes of Sith Lords. "And with experience."

"Where?" A twisted brow belied curiosity at cooks that hadn't given up on life. How was it the Sith were so good at making people hate being alive? Even the cooks were sourpusses here? Well, a little food before the long trek wouldn't hurt.

Soon enough, he led the way to a path of vendors on the dusty shores of Korriban. Naniti peered at the food and tried to discern which cook was responsible for which smell. One favoring meat would attract the Togruta's attention most. Especially if they weren't busy overcooking it to the point she might as well gnaw on jerky.

Naniti drifted over and pointed -- then pointed more insistantly -- at a bowl to order something from a vendor.

"Weaken the Force?" she echoed before she turned around to look back at Lysander. "Why...? You know what, nevermind. Because they can is probably the answer. You said lightning, fire and telekinesis? Do we need to do all of it at the same time, or divide which ability we use between us?" A ritual, huh? That sounded exciting. A proper ritual and not one of those gamified one Acolytes did in backrooms out of sight of their Masters.

"Lysander? Did you want something to eat?" She hesitated to ask only because he seemed so focus and serious talking about the ritual, but she couldn't let him forget now was the time to grab a bite if he was hungry.

Lysander von Ascania

 

[Lysander von Ascania]

Naniti ​

Lysander could feel her gaze on him before the question landed. Power.. that word moved through the air like a vibroblade. He didn’t look at her immediately; his attention was on the road, and somehow, it felt like the temple itself was still waiting for an answer.

“I desire.. the freedom that power can buy. To be able to breathe, to choose.”

At least that was what he’d been telling himself since the day he slipped off Naboo with more confusion than direction. A simple story, easy enough to repeat. And he had stayed true to it, true to himself, or at least, he thought he had.

But the truth had shifted under his boots in recent months.. decisions to be made, burdens he hadn't expected to carry. And somewhere in that weight… something had begun pulling at him. Not ambition, something.. deeper. Something that whispered from the dark like it recognized him. He wasn’t sure yet if it was a promise or a warning.. only that it was becoming impossible to ignore.

Tension quickly gathered across the Sith’s shoulders, the smallest beginning to tighten at the corner of his jaw.

“And there are things in me that didn’t exist a year ago. I’m trying to understand them, Naniti.”

Yeah, he’d brushed it off too neatly.. a topic that deserved more honesty than he was ready to give. The Togruta made it too easy to talk, too easy to forget what the dark had carved into him. Naniti was.. friendlier than many shaped by their kind, and part of him ached at that thought, wishing he’d met someone like her back when he’d first stepped onto this path.. before the slow pull of the dark had begun changing him from the inside out.

But his brows would soon ease, and the corner of his mouth finally tugged in something close to a genuine smile. “Struggling? No.. not from where I’m standing.”

Force wanted her to, huh?

Well, the spark in her blue eyes made it hard not to believe she could bend fate that way.. whether she realized it or not.

“If the Force wanted you to learn it, then maybe it has a sense of humor.”

Or maybe it had simply nudged her into his orbit.

He wasn’t brave enough to say that part aloud..

A little shock of heat bloomed beneath the armor he wore around most. Who knew an elbow could send warmth through someone? It even slipped past his guard before he could notice. Lysander drew in a slow breath and turned his attention back to her once more.

There was one truth he could claim, one thing that mattered more than any philosophy or doctrine. It had carried him through every lesson, every failure, every clawing attempt to.. rise.

“Training will always be important. Life doesn’t get any easier.. you just get stronger.”

He hoped it didn't land as a lecture of some sense of superiority.. only the honesty of someone who had lived it and was still learning how to live it.

“The fire and lightning have to hit at the same time.” For a second, his tone became more instructional. “We just need to figure out how to divide that between us.” He offered a small shrug of his own. “I’m not too concerned about that part. We’ll make it work.”

Seriousness dissolved in an instant. Her mention of food lingered, and a boyish light softened his face.

Obviously he wasn’t about to refuse anything edible.. Bogan knew he’d gone through too many days pretending he wasn’t starving.. and something told him the feeling wasn’t so one sided.

If anything, it felt mutual..

“Food.. yes please,” he admitted, rubbing the back of his neck. “Probably do both of us some good before the.. trial.”

They stepped into the short line forming in front of the stall. At least there was a line. That had to be a good sign, right? If the food was terrible, people wouldn’t wait for it. And if people were waiting, then maybe this pause.. this tiny, ordinary moment.. was actually okay.

He glanced at the bowl she’d been practically jabbing at.

Originally, he hadn’t meant to be curious. Well, not at first. Curiosity was dangerous, after all.. apparently it created attachments, expectations, the kind of threads Sith were supposed to cut before they tangled.

The thought settled in his chest

“What was it like… before the Academy?” His words carried softly, with sincerity. “Food, people.. anything. What.. did your life actually look like?”

The glance found her again. “.. What’s your comfort food?”

 

[Naniti]

Lysander answered her questions, but she could tell there was more to it. There was no need to 'demand' answers now though. After all, she hadn't exactly answered every thought or curiosity he had about Naniti yet either. They were both waiting for the right moment. Whenever that would be. If it would ever happen.

"Couldn't agree more," The Togruta replied with a surprising amount of positivity given the subject matter. No point whining about it. Things sucked. Get stronger so they stopped sucking. Simple. No one said it would be easy or fast or that everything would work out though.

Wait, he wasn't worried about the flashy bits? So, then, what was he worried about? Aside from the fact the Temple wasn't the full brunt of the Nexus' influence and Naniti was damn certain she'd felt it creeping across her skin and over her mind. So, she was worried about how her talent would respond, but what was Lysander 'concerned' about?

Well, they could get the food first then talk strategy to survive.

As for the bowl Naniti had been arguing about with the vendor, it was over how cooked the meat had to be. Unlike most other people and places, the Togruta was saying it was absurd to have minimum "safe" levels of cooking something. "Is it fresh or not? If it's fresh then basteria hasn't had time to grow on it. Slab it on the grill to flash treat it." Street stalls were the best because the food wasn't already cooked by the time she showed up. On the rare side was best!

"To think a Sith chef would be worried about food-borne illnesses," she grumbled. "Probably worried some Master'll choke them if their prized student feel queasy. Like they care, long as we don't die."

Lysander's questions swept the disgruntled twist of her lips away and drew her blue eyes back to his features. "The food wasn't bad. My Master's a hard ass, but they know a growing Acolyte needs more than stale bread and water. As for people," Naniti's voice trailed off as her eyes looked forward again. "We didn't use real lightsabers. Not that young. But a battle wasn't over until the opponent couldn't move any more. Sometimes they'd be carted off still alive, but never seen again."

"It's why I was surprised at how thoughtful your instruction was. And your invitations to do more." Naniti turned to look back at Lysander once more. "I didn't know any Acolyte would ever do that for another. I was taught to crush my rivals and force the Sith to recognize my potential." A chuckle followed. "I knew I was asking for trouble when I found you, but I couldn't help myself. I just knew things would work out. Somehow."

"My comfort food?" That's when her nonchalance gave way to a raised brow and slightly narrowed eyes. "I don't-- I mean, that isn't a luxury I can afford. I only eat at meal time. Before the Academy there was no opportunity to find comfort, and since then I just... haven't changed. What... what do you find comfort in?" It was a strange question to ask, even as a reply, but since he brought it up, Naniti was curious.

Lysander von Ascania

 

[Lysander von Ascania]

Naniti
​

Strange how the mind still organized things, even here on some dust choked world where the vendors looked like they’d been carved out of stone and regret! Lysander listened without appearing to, the corners of his mouth threatening a smile.

He imagined the vendor would’ve aged three years as the Togruta explained her logic with that confidence of someone who had eaten raw things in much harsher places and lived to tell the tale..

Lysander blinked twice and stared at the grill like it was suddenly an accomplice to murder. Maybe street stalls were her domain? Not because they were glamorous, but because they didn’t insult her intelligence with pre-cooked, over sanitized slop! Maybe she wanted her food alive enough to fight back like a true Sith.

Eyes half lidded, a slow exhale through his nose that wasn’t quite amusement.. but pretty damn close. The tone she was conjuring was a rare mix that he admittingly knew well. The blonde too, had long ago accepted this little dance with the universe. And from experience, when he asked for chaos, chaos always answered.

He watched her for a moment longer than he meant to, the way she kept arguing for a world where things made sense, even here.. even on Korriban.

Stranger still, it made him even more hungry.

Angling his gaze, the teen's gaze narrowed, but it wasn’t at her; it was at whatever memory she was forced to touch now..

“..That’s a horrible way to teach children.” His tone wasn’t meant to be judgmental, but that was the way he got something genuinely bothered him. Unconsciously, he tracked her lekku, as though he were searching for discomfort.

Personally, he saw that kind of training as fear just dressed up as discipline instead of real strength.

His voice didn’t rise. If anything.. it sank softer, as it so often did when he was honest. “And you came through all of that still standing. Kinda says everything. Hard not to take note of that."

There was a pause, and within it, he chose truth over composure..

“For what it’s worth, Naniti.. I don’t train you to see how much you can take.. I train you because you’re worth the effort."

A breath left him, like he hadn’t meant to say that last part aloud.

“And because you face every challenge I put in front of you without complaining."

Another of her admissions settled heavier than it was probably intended. He looked away, for the flash of his first master on Korriban surfaced. Revna Marr . Before either of them had known they shared blood. She didn’t have a sharp tongue, and she was impatient. Any success in his trials, or even the two wars under the Sith Order's banners, were easily credited to how she shape him. Not everything on Korriban had been cruelty.. he had to remind himself of that sometimes.

"For the record. I’ve crushed my share of rivals. Not because Kor’ethyr Academy demanded it.. it was just part of the game. But only if you play it their way.”

A tilt of his head was an unspoken I don’t.

“The spotlight that never lasts. They forget the Force doesn’t care who steps on whose throat first.”

When his attention settled fully on Naniti, the warmth of it would be unmistakable.

“You’re different.. I had believed at the time you were looking for something beyond all the noise.. That’s why I made room for you.”

A hand flexed once at his side. “And why I keep doing it.” The corner of his mouth twitched. ”You don’t need to crush me to be recognized, just.. walk beside me. That would be enough.”

Guilt passed through him as he heard of what she didn’t have growing up. He’d known a piece here and there of her upbringing, the brutality of the academy, but every little detail was helping sharpen that reality..

He hadn’t expected the question to rebound either.. but he knew the answer instantly. The act of saying it, well, that stalled him. Color climbed his cheekbones before he could stop it.. a warmth that betrayed him completely. It was almost boyish in how out of place it was.

Then, he huffed out a resigned breath.

“.. Meiloorun mix.”

No time was wasted in continuing after that. “It’s actually quite stupid, but.. my eldest sister used to make it. Different every time. Too sweet, too tart.. sometimes barely edible.” A low chuckle escaped his throat. “But she’d always give me the bowl first and say it was a privilege of being the most annoying.”

The vendor, a broad shouldered Mirilian, finally barked. “Next!” The spell broke. Lysander stepped up to the counter first. The heat from the grill hit him, and he didn’t need Naniti to argue again about cooking times to know what she preferred.

“Two plates.. flash seared nuna for her. Just hit it with enough flame to count.. And one.. regular bowl for me.”

Yeah, he’d actually been paying attention, which was probably far too revealing..

The grill hissed. His portion obviously got a few more seconds. When both dishes were set out, Lysander already had his credcard ready and paid when the time called for it. Passing her plate over, he stepped aside to a bit of shade under an ancient pillar.

“Figure the least I can do is feed you after interrogating you about your entire life.”

A sidelong glance. “Your order looks better.”

 

[Naniti]

Naniti stared at Lysander for a single second before she laughed and bobbed her horned head. "Yeah," the laughter die quickly before she exhaled -- almost deflating. Well, she wasn't going to defend the cruelty as somehow revealing the greatest truths in the universe or something. It'd been pretty karking mad.

Her brow rose slightly as he took note of her surviving such 'traditional' methods. The Togruta's expression evened out as she listened in silence to Lysander explain why he trained her. Almost sounded embarrassing when he said it aloud. Worth it? Was she? What... should she say? "Yeah. I promised I wouldn't stop until I could land a hit on you," she replied with a hint of the sentiment being forced. Would it be too much to show gratitude? It'd probably be okay. Lysander appeared open to expression.

With the young man implying he wasn't into the Academy's cut-throat ladder of acclaim and dominance, Naniti felt conversing or an exchange really was possible with him. Beyond over a table. Would he talk about things Sith usually avoided? Had to be careful approaching such matters; never knew where someone's boundaries were. Quite the temptation though if Lysander really was different.

"Maybe I won't crush you after all," Naniti turned a bit to present more of a side profile with a slight lift of her chin. Then the corner of her lips curled upward. "But I'm still going to try getting the upper hand in a fight." It didn't hurt to have aspirations of surprising someone you could gauge yourself against. Someone reliable. Consistent. After the first time she'd have to work even harder to walk beside him. Naniti didn't want him constantly worried about her being a delicate flower or something.

Lysander found talk of comfort food... rousing. Meiloorun mix, he'd said. Even offered a personal story to explain it. So that was comforting, was it? Remembering somethinig pleasant and personal. Naniti almost felt sorry she couldn't offer as heartwarming a story as the one he'd shared; thankfully the vendor's cry cut off any growing concern she needed to fill the void.

It was a bit awkward to have Lysander order for her like her Master considering how close in age they were. Nevertheless, the Togruta's eyes slipped from him to the vendor to the Mirialan to see if they were going to balk. They didn't, and it wasn't too long before the dishes were ready either.

Naniti opened her mouth when Lysander paid, but pressed her lips closed when he handed over the card. It'd only draw more attention if she "made a scene" by saying something.

After he handed her the bowl, they started to step over into the shade. Before she could raise the issue, he got there first saying it was some kind of repayment for the questions. "Well... Yeah, thanks, but you don't need to do this just for asking questions." A quick poke at the food one a utensil fooded. "Probably some things I won't talk about from back then, and that'll be that. Anything else they're just questions. They're already in the past. I can't change them so why pretend they never happened?" Dismissive? Acceptance? Naniti herself didn't know; it wasn't pleasant to talk about, and her 'detachment' was nearly as clinical as it might seem on the surface.

With a soft clearing of the throat, Naniti stabbed a piece of meat and looked up at him. "Want to try a bite?" The Togruta grinned. "It isn't the teeth. It's the gut. Some Acolytes joke my kind could chew durasteel and be fine. Aren't too far off either." A carnivorious diet and multiple stomachs were slight physiological differences than other species; enough to spell the difference in how they handled their meat anyway.

After a brief exchange about food, her expression sobered up a bit. "So, what you said earlier. About... interacting with others. Plenty of Masters follow the Old Ways. You saw the whelp in the mess hall," the one that'd tried to Force Push/trip her. "If they come at me, I have to respond, don't I?" She thought to clarify the distinction between response and initiatition, and ever how far to go in either, but Naniti was curious where Lysander himself might take his response. She'd try not to lead the witness.

Lysander von Ascania

 

[Lysander von Ascania]

Naniti ​

Since around the time they walked away from the vendor, Lysander had detected a shift. It wasn’t dramatic or sharp.. but it was there, noticeable only because he cared enough to feel it. It made him slightly more conscious about what words he should let fly. She had deflected with logic too. The practiced distance? Yeah. He knew that one almost too well; it was the same instinct he lived with around nearly every padawan back in the Mid Rim. But the confusing part, the part he wasn’t used to.. was it shifted.

One moment they were trading jabs, little sparks he looked forward to.. because she challenged him in this way that didn’t threaten, didn’t undermine, just.. met him. Matched him. Made him think a little sharper. The next moment, she drifted into that self-contained space, which partially had him wondering now if he stepped wrong.. said something wrong.

Admittingly, it bothered him, but not in a frustrated way.. more like.. Bogan, don’t ruin this.

It wasn’t often he enjoyed someone’s company enough to care if he ruined it.

“Naniti.. I didn’t do it to make up for anything,” he said. “I did it because I wanted to..”

Lysander looked at the bite she held out, then at her grin. Something loosened in his chest.

“I’m afraid it’ll bite back.”

But it'd be impossible to resist the temptation from her, so he leaned forth, allowing her utensil to deliver its bite. The flavors exploded on his tongue, richness and wildness, unlike anything he had grown up with. The shock ran through him before he could mask it.

“..that’s..actually really good.”

A twitch at the corner of his mouth. ”No wonder you like it.”

He let her question hang for a moment.. long enough that the silence itself seemed to think with him. It wasn’t hesitation. Desevro operated differently, and even now, he felt the shift in his bones whenever he compared it to Korriban. Desevro taught you how to survive, how to be useful. And usefulness typically had sharper teeth

“Desevro doesn’t follow Korriban’s doctrine, the two are different in so many ways,” he said. “There, retaliation isn’t about pride or dominance. It’s about proving you can handle what’s thrown at you without wasting anyone’s time.”

His tone was calm, but edged, having sanded the softness out of it.. something rare for the blonde.

“That whelp in the mess hall wasn’t a threat. It was noise. And there’s no merit in responding to noise.”

There was a slight hitch in his jaw, one that came from remembering too many pointless challenges over time.

“But if they come at you with intent.. you respond. Not to impress. Just to end the problem.. efficiently. You shut it down in one motion if you can. Maybe two.. if they’re stubborn.”

Steam writhed in tendrils, curling into his features as he speared a piece of meat with his utensil, eyes fixating on the Togruta a second longer than necessary, before finally looking down to take a bite. The heat hit his tongue, cutting through the colder thoughts now circling in his mind. When he swallowed, the rest of the answer finally hit him.

“You don’t initiate,” he said. “That’s wasted effort.. but you don’t let yourself be walked on, either. Make sure they understand the outcome before anyone else feels brave enough to try.”

A colder exhale. "And if they don't? End them."

 

[Naniti]

Naniti snorted at Lysander saying the food might bite back. Not that it stopped him, which drew wider eyes. It wasn't literally cut out of a recent kill and drilling with bodily fluids, but it was far from being cooked as most people thought of it. More, Lysander said it was good. That was totally not expected. The entire sequence. "People cook all the flavor away," she replied honestly, but with subdued enthusiasm from lingering surprise. It only took that long before the distracted and mixed emotions moved aside though. "Just make sure you trust the source. It should be fresh for the best taste." And obviously not everyone claiming something was fresh was telling the truth; and some animals didn't live in chemical-free ranges. Even Togruta knew the value of cooking meat.

Then Lysander replied to her inquiry about where he stood with regard to dealing with others. Mostly other Sith. It didn't hurt to know more about where he stood and what he believed. Some people looked down on you if you weren't ruthless enough, and others looked down on you if you were too heartless. Life was a grab bag. Seeing how Lysander was pleasant company, Naniti was trying to make sure she didn't grab the thermal detonator.

Where he started, Naniti thought she could spot the distinction. Motivation. Intent. What you meant to get out of the encounter. And he thought Desevro was more result focused? Korriban had lots of outstanding opportunities, but Desevro might be more practical in a sense? Well that did make her feel a bit better. Difficult not to feel overwhelmed by Korriban's stature -- its reputation preceded it, was flooded with power, and had the Sith Order backing it. Lysander had even trained there. He'd said it before, but it was good to hear him be consistent talking about their current institution being worthwhile.

Naniti gave a one-shoulder shrug as she held her food in the other hand as Lysander paused. "If by respond you mean make it so you appear whenever they close their eyes, I agree. But those watching needed to know I wouldn't stop merely deflecting their childish efforts; I'd do more. Only a little for something that weak." Maybe it could spiral out of control -- perhaps his friends would respond -- but she'd deal with it. Bullies needed to be taught a lesson. A lesson that got progressively harsher over time if they needed too many of them. It was an educational institution after all.

After she finished, Lysander had completed chewing and continued. Naniti nodded. So, he wasn't the type that felt inclined to bully or crush those around him to show dominance. Made sense; Lysander had just said it wasn't about dominance. Don't climb the social ladder showing you were the strongest or the most ruthless... "You're saying the Academy rewards people capable of accomplishing tasks given to them, not putting on a show." Half question half statement, in truth. Sounded doable. "That's different than where I came from. More students might actually graduate that way." Was that a good thing? What if excising the weaker ones was beneficial? Something she should reflect on.

As for Lysander's colder tone and demeanor, the Togruta Acolyte had noticed it and considered it carefully. It wasn't like the man that occassionally smiled, but then there was a darker side to her as well that hadn't come forward yet. It didn't frighten her; Naniti was too used to that sort of thing to tremble or turn meek before it. But she did pay attention. When someone got serious and knew how to end you it was the only rational thing to do.

Lysander von Ascania

 

[Lysander von Ascania]

Naniti
​

Lysander felt something shift again as she spoke, but it wasn’t dramatic. It was clear she understood how fear functioned on Desevro, how power could imprint itself. At least, as he saw it.. a Sith instinct, but perhaps sharpened in some ways by her own logic. He was still coming to understand her story better, but she did carry a certain type of confidence, one not bon from arrogance, that suggested experience.

The teen’s jaw twitched, a tell of thinking too fast.. too deeply..

“When you make someone see you every time they close their eyes, you’re already taking responsibility for what comes next..”

He could still taste the spice from his previous bite as he was sifting through what he meant to say, and what he probably shouldn’t. He didn’t know if this was a topic they’d ever touch often. There was no way to truly know.. maybe just this once, maybe it would never come around again.

Either way, something in him wanted it to stick.

Not because he wanted to lecture the Togruta or because he thought she needed correction.. no, it wasn’t that. It was the quieter thing, the one he wouldn’t name even in his own head. Maybe it mattered because he found himself caring more than he meant to. Maybe it was because, beneath all the doctrine and lessons, he was honest enough to know he wouldn’t always be around to help. The Sith were predictable right until the moment they weren’t..

“Just own that chain which follows. One opponent or five.. clever or cowardly. Whether they come at you in the open… or wait until you’re alone. Don’t forget what it means to finish something."

Something almost like a confession in the way his voice slipped softer..

“When you choose to hit back, Naniti.. make it final. And make sure you’re still standing when everything settles.”

Another bite was lifted to his mouth.

“The Covenant forges whoever survives long enough to matter. It can be as simple as that, I think..”

Despite Korriban’s heavy heat, he caught himself enjoying himself.. not the food exactly, just the moment, these little pockets between whatever chaos the galaxy wanted to throw at them. Was it peace? Sith weren’t supposed to get that. Whatever it was, he liked it.

He wiped a few crumbs from his lower lip with a thumb before glancing back to Naniti. A small barely there smile appeared, one given when he wasn't guarding anything, and everything suddenly felt lighter. "So.. when trouble finds you again.. am I stepping in? Or should I stand back and let you chew through them?"

​

 

[Naniti]

What comes next? The Togruta stared at Lysander. From what she had been taught what came next was one of two outcomes: they were too afraid to dare approach her again, or they were enraged to the point they would absolutely try again. As for the latter that's when it escalated from teaching them a less to putting them down once and for all. It sounded simple, but it could get complicated. It was alright if things got messy that was part of life. What mattered was surviving and making people understand where your boundaries were and not to cross them. At least that was what her Master said.

Surprisingly, Lysander seemed to say just as much. Mildly surprisingly. He seemed a rational sort that might have ideas that didn't quite fit with doctrine. Just something about the way he held himself and responded. Intelligence behind the eyes many lacked. Sure, he could get harsh, but to think it might boil down to if she started something she best be ready to finish it.

"Sometimes life is just that simple," the Togruta more or less echoed. Then she popped another piece of meat between her lips.

Sometimes it probably wasn't. Not that she really had a wealth of experience to draw on being an Acolyte, but you had to figure... if everything wasn't simple, something had to be difficult. Thankfully, the meal wasn't difficult to chew and even had a savory flavor. Couldn't place what kind of creature they'd butchered for this, but some things were better left unknown. Especially when you enjoyed them.

Some. Lysander interested her in ways that begged not to leave stones unturned.

Chin high, one lekku stroked with an open hand, Naniti smiled for Lysander's benefit at his question. "That depends doesn't it? Personal vendetta against me? You won't respect me in the morning if I hide. Mission? I have your back if you have mine." The Togruta suddenly laughed. On Korriban. Screw the dead if they couldn't handle a little humor.

"Seriously, I don't start fights I don't intend to win, Lysander. And you can't always see all the angles. For all any of us know, one of these Acolytes could be the Chosen One of some Sith Lord and plucking a single hair gets a personal visit. But," Naniti met Lysander's green eyes with her blues, "if they push too far that's a risk I'll have to take to maintain my self-respect." Vision aside, she wasn't going to be bowing every time she turned around to someone that didn't deserve it because they might have a Sith Daddy.

Lysander von Ascania

 

[Lysander von Ascania]

Naniti​

Lysander leaned back against the pillar. "I respect that," the Sith said before clearing his throat. "If someone comes after you, I don’t need to stand over your shoulder and do it for you. You make sure you finish what you start, and that alone earns notice.” Sure. Easy to say. That instinct to shield had been carved into him long before the Outer Rim ever called him acolyte. Something born of blood or upbringing.. he never really bothered to name it. But he at least had learned how to temper it.

His gaze flicked back to the Togruta from the bowl resting his hand. It was sharp.. but also curious. “Still,” he added, letting a teasing note slip in, “if they push too far.. you won’t mind me stepping in to.. even the scales, will you?”

The breeze stirred along the dusty path, carrying more of the tantalizing scent of sizzling meat from the nearby vendors.

“You do seem like the type to keep things simple, no? Threat or mission, personal vendetta.. duty.. you choose when to strike, and when to stand your ground. Honestly, that kind of clarity is rare.” There were few things Lysander disliked more than working beside someone incapable of making a decision or performing when the moment called for action. And well, he'd always been a little tribal in that regard, careful about who earned a spot within his inner circle.

Another stray crumb was caught, and the shadow of a smile formed. “So.. when the next challenge finally comes, don’t be surprised if I stand back and watch what you do first. Who knows, maybe I’ll learn something.”

Her laugh could've been contagious, and he found himself listening intently to the way she spoke of her stance. Honestly, it read to him as discipline with a side of self-respect.. far more uncommon in the galaxy than most would believe.

Shifting his weight, one shoulder pressed into the pillar. There was still an edge on his lips.. but it wasn’t exactly amusement. Maybe.. recognition? Naniti didn’t seem reckless.. but wouldn’t bend just to avoid trouble. Surely, that meant something.

An exhale escaped him, clearing the echoes of doctrine. Too many of them. But blood kept him tethered to the Sith Order.

“It’s a risk, but a risk worth taking, to stand on your own terms.”

His fork slid through another piece of meat, the motion slow, as it hovered just before his mouth. “Yeah, feth it. Sometimes you just have to draw the line. Define it for yourself. That’s really the only way anyone respects it.”

Lysander brought the piece of meat to his mouth, biting clean through it. He chewed fast.. too fast, an old habit. Being the fifth Ascania out of nine meant meals were a little less of a family gathering and more a competition; whoever ate the fastest typically walked away with the most. His body never forgot those rules.

“When I was studying here at Kor’ethyr Academy.. in the beginning… it wasn’t the surviving that was always the hard part. It was living with the decisions afterward. Some out of pride, others from necessity.”

In Sith space, admitting a truth like that carried zero consequence for the most part; still, the words slipped out more as an offer, a tiny glimpse into who he was.

“Ok, I’m curious,” he continued, head tilting. “Do you think strength should be earned… or taken? One teaches discipline. The other teaches fear.”

His choice was probably obvious, but he was still curious to pick her brain a little longer.

 

[Naniti]

The Togruta casually shrugged. "I think you'll know when an opponent belongs to someone -- whatever the outcome. So, sure, if you get bored," Naniti said with an easy smile. Bored was code for felt like stepping in. It wasn't that she was a hardass about being helped, but asking for it long in advance? Before the enemy or circumstance was known? That didn't sit right. But, if Lysander felt like helping her when the odds got out of hand, well, she wouldn't complain. Long as someone she'd designated her personal victim wasn't stolen from her. Even a Lady of the Sith had her pride or 'honor' as some called it.

As Lysander spoke, Naniti slipped another piece between her lips to chew before it got any cooler. Not that it was cooling off that fast in the heat of Korriban, but it wasn't steaming hot either.

A nod accompanied his recognition of risks worth taking. "Not everyone can learn everything, so we demand our elders teach us doctrine to give us the highlights. But in the end, it's all on us. Even The Code doesn't answer every question. It wasn't meant to. Still," Naniti snorted, "it would be nice if someone had written the answers all down somewhere. Not like our civilization has been around for a few thousand years or anything." Maybe she sounded wise, but the Togruta Acolyte that stood in the shadows with Lysander didn't feel particularly wise. She knew there was a lot she didn't know. A lot. But whatever happened she'd face it head on. Maybe that was presumptuous that her talent would help her in a pivotal moment, but she wouldn't let uncertainty paralyze her.

Blue eyes lifted from her bowl when he replied about his time at Kor'ethyr. Living with the decisions, huh? When there were no good choices. When you made the wrong choice. Naniti nodded and gave him a small smile. It wasn't going to get any easier from there either. They -- or especially her -- were at the bottom of the ladder to power. Things were only bound to get more colorful as they climbed it. Well, she hoped so. Naniti was still plenty young! If she'd already peaked it was going to be a long, long, and dreary life of same-old-same-old.

A fork stabbed in Lysander's direction after he dropped his question. "'Strength?' Earned. Always. 'Power?' You can take power. Timing. Connections. Relics. Lose it just as quickly too. But strength is only from endless strife and toil." Naniti paused to look out in the direction of the Academy. "At no small expense. But that's how we get strong enough to make our vision real. So, I guess, the question is really whether our vision is worth it?"

With a bark of laughter, she skewered another piece of meat with the fork and then let the fork rest on the lip of the bowl. "I scarcely understand my vision. I'll find out the hard way. But," she looked over at her companion, "I have faith that somehow it'll work out."

"Oh, and don't tell my Master I made a distinction between strength and power. You know how the adults can get with nuance." Small joke. Normally it would be an old person waxing on about the subtleties of life that the young couldn't appreciate or something. At least that's what some poems she read suggested.

Lysander von Ascania

 

[Lysander von Ascania]

Naniti ​

The Togruta’s words were hovering over him lightly, but would still catch the meaning behind him. There was a nonchalance to it he understood quite well. Learning when to guide and when to step back.. maybe that would be the true test for him.. a way to better understand the flow of this partnership, or whatever existed between them.

“I’ll take that as my cue, then,” Lysander said casually. He refrained from levity.. as tempting as it’d been. He tried to look at it from the lens of one teaching, a different angle entirely. It sounded like her way of staking out her own ground.. or independence. Either way, it was clever.

“Not every answer is written down.” A pause followed, letting the words settle like more red dust in the Korriban air. “Sometimes you only find the truth when you make the decision yourself, when you test the boundaries and see the consequences firsthand.” A hard lesson for anyone to learn, one that’d nearly gotten him killed multiple times.

But then he wasn't sure if that was the answer Naniti needed.. or even the right one at all.

While meeting her over the rim of the bowl, the sun on Korriban brushed against his cheek as he stepped away from the pillar. “Not knowing everything.. that’s not a weakness,” he said between bites. “The Code wasn’t written to solve every question. It’s meant to give you enough to start walking on your own.”

His gaze lifted from the fork that punctuated her words. No rush in his response followed.. Lysander just let the silence stretch for a breath.. maybe two.. just long enough to show he was actually considering her words, and not throwing back some rehearsed Sith rhetoric.

“Yeah, you’re right. It’s earned. There aren’t any shortcuts worth taking. And the galaxy doesn’t let us keep anything we didn’t bleed for.”

He left his own fork balanced along the bowl’s edge, freeing the hand. Something more private crossed his face..

“But vision.. that’s different. It costs more.. demands more.”

Was something half formed worth the people you lost along the way? Was it worth the version of himself that was already beginning to burn away?

Angling his head, he studied the acolyte, thoughtfully, holding her gaze. “Maybe the real question is whether you think the cost makes sense. Not the Code.. you.”

And maybe the real question for him was the same.. though he’d already begun falling deeper, too late now to pretend otherwise.

There was no real path back..

“.. I have faith in you too.” The words were light on his tongue, but it didn’t make them any less true.

“And don’t worry.. your secret’s safe.” Surely she didn’t really think he’d report her for philosophical crimes.

Striding a few paces back to the vendor, he placed the bowl on a crate. An exhale slipped through his nose. Hopefully that thing actually got washed. Korriban kitchens were..well.. unpredictable on the best of days. And, Bogan help him, hopefully it had been washed before he stuck his fork into it earlier. That little detail had somehow eluded him when his stomach was growling earlier.

He looked out to the direction they would be moving soon. Duty tugged, but his focus slipped back to Naniti.

“..How are you feeling?”

It wasn't the first time he'd asked, and he knew there was softness threaded into that question. Almost like he cared enough to ask again. And again. Without needing a reason. Crazy.

“Truly.”

 

[Naniti]

Naniti's blue eyes slid over to Lysander as he spoke of the Code being their start. The Togruta wondered. It was an enticing litany. It promised everything. Demanded nothing. But all those that followed it sacrificed so much... of themselves, for the wishes of others to bring victory. It wasn't wrong though; but its claim the Force would free them is where she started to wonder who the Code was really meant to benefit.

A slight nod accompanied his comment about strength. "Ownership. Everyone claims they own something. It belongs to them. They expect such claims matter, but in the end the only things you truly own are those you're strong enough to keep." A suitably Sith perspective that justified many crimes. Meanwhile, Jedi believed in intrinsic value and ethereal morality held value. Naniti couldn't imagine betting everything on something that didn't actually exist. Just the vain hope everyone around you believed the same and would step in to support you if someone violated words on a page.

The Togruta woman blinked and stared at Lysander as he expressed faith she'd manage to unravel the secrets of her vision. He had faith in her?

She didn't say anything as they drifted back to set aside the bowls and utensils. Unlike Lysander, her thoughts never strayed to what became of the bowl. What had been said earlier was with a confidence part of expectation, but also of blind self-reassurance. Where was the faith from? What did she expect to happen to fulfill it? Naniti might as well have used the word 'hope.' And then he stepped in and said he had faith in her. But why? A great deal more time was going to be needed to unravel that than a few steps on a broken world.

A soft hum followed him asking how she felt as it drew the woman from her thoughts. "I'm fine, Lysander. Ready to go." Wherever they were headed.

Another blink as he insisted on an answer. Something other than a rote reply. "Really. I'm ready. Ready as I'll ever be to enter that Valley without becoming a Scholar of Sith History." After all, Naniti looked across at Lysander, they had each other. Surprisingly, she found him to be... almost trustworthy. A dangerous proposition to let one's guard down. But he was somehow different from the rest she'd met. "What about you? Do we have any archaeological tools we need to bring with us?"

Lysander von Ascania

 

[Lysander von Ascania]

Naniti

​

Ready to go sounded simple enough. No need for flourish. He managed to keep it from twisting his thoughts into their usual labyrinth. From experience, deadiness meant different things to different people. For some, it was courage; for others, calculation. As guilty as Lysander sometimes felt for overthinking, he let it rest this time.

An exhale passed through his nose. Tilting his head, the sun cast a shadow across his face, considering her questions about tools. It was an honest question, but he didn’t think there would be much need for them. Not in the Valley.. probably wouldn’t be much time for digging he reflected, not with judgment, just pragmatism. Any type of excavation would be a side note.. just an indulgence only if she wanted to explore that aspect.

“Nah, I doubt it. That place demands just presence and attention for the most part. “

Turning on his heel, he stepped fully out from that patch of shade under the pillar. The sun warmed the teen’s shoulders. He mulled on his words for a moment longer, thinking of ways to hand Naniti understanding instead of making it sound intimidating. “I’m not even sure if it’s possible honestly. Beneath that valley is what’s left of King Dathka Graush. It’s rumored he replaced his heart with crystal and bound himself to undeath, and the dark too. The tunnels are said to be more than stone. They carry power from sorcery."

He turned slightly, sweeping one hand toward the valley, then let it drop. “Each chamber has something to teach.. pain, ambition, sacrifice.”

The words sounded practiced, almost like a lesson he had repeated many times already.

“I won’t lie to you... that place is dangerous. But it’s also beautiful.. in its own way. The Gate of Graush is where some Sith learned to shape death, not fear it. We’ll probably see things that are unsettling..but that’s part of the journey.”

Then again, he wouldn't have brought her along if he didn't believe she could hold her ground.. after all, his own survival here was somewhat dependent on her, and there was nothing like a little team-building among the ruins of ancient Sith.

Lysander led the way out of the crowded market district. The red stone of Korriban gave way to rough scrub and jagged outcrops as they moved toward the Valley of Graush.

 

[Naniti]

It was fine with Naniti, of course, they weren't bringing along tools. There was still time, but she hadn't applied to become a Sith Archaeologist and Acquirer of Rare Antiquities. So, really, the Togruta had no use for such tools, but maybe Lysander had intended to teach her in their use... for some reason. Turned out such was not to be. Not really a shame. Everyone -- all the Acolytes -- knew the Sith relics were always out in the open behind several layers of lethal monsters and traps. You didn't need tools to get to them. Just skill and a lot of luck. Sometimes helped to listen to people in front of you die agonizing deaths first leave breadcrumbs behind of things to avoid too.

Strangely enough, Naniti had never tried looting an Ancient Tomb before. Probably because it sounded like a massive pain and she wasn't desperate for bragging rights. There were other ways to show off among classmates.

Speaking of what Acolytes said to one another in hushed tones, Lysander started to drop some trivia about the Valley.

"More than stone," Naniti echoed.

Teach? The Togruta smiled if Lysander looked at her as they walked and he talked. Very educational. Beasts biting you, lightning shooting out of statues, the ceiling falling on you. Very, very educational. Well everyone tried to learn something from such experiences to justify why they let themselves but put to the fire.

"I dream about how a Celestial machine that keeps reality in one piece is going to break. More unsettling than that?" Naniti asked openly, but with a hair of sarcastic wit. She tried her best to keep her tone even. It very well could scare the hell out of her. More importantly, she asked, "Do you know more about what they learned? Shaping death. And are there a lot of people that visit trying to claim whatever is still down there?"

Despite the way being less than polished, Lysander's violet companion had no difficulty in moving across the broken ground of Korriban. "And will there be more of what we felt in the temple?" Or had the place been designed to amplify or focus the Dark energy into those visions and sense of dread? It was her first time. Naniti was curious how all of 'this' worked.

Lysander von Ascania

 

[Lysander von Ascania]

Naniti
​

Familiar words echoed. Lysander recalled hearing something like that before during their training, slipped between strikes. He also realized he’d never bothered to understand it since, having brushed off the notion of puzzle pieces, or however she referenced it.

“Do you mean it literally, like some structure, or.. more as a principle, a force? How does it.. fail?”

It was a modest start.

A shadow passed over his jaw as he stepped over rock in the street. Lysander recalled a few of the stories from professors back when he studied at Kor'ethyr. It wasn’t really anything he’d consider trivial..

“I know.. some,” he admitted. “What the Sith at that time learned wasn’t just about surviving death. It was more about bending it. To some of them, that was mastery. And well, to others..obsession.”

Too much could cloud her judgment; too little might leave her unprepared..

That thought pressed heavier on him than he anticipated. Sure, most Sith wouldn’t care, wouldn’t hesitate to throw someone into danger if it served their own ends, right? But part of him did, and the risk wasn’t exactly abstract.

“What they learned was necromancy.. Graush’s art of altering death, raising specters, and blurring the line between life and the.. grave? The Nexus there feeds those powers, which usually results in twisting the Force into visions.. paranoia."

Lysander’s gaze swept toward the Valley. Red cliffs and jagged outcrops became shapes of warning. “It’s not really a place of pilgrimage. Just another crucible, really. That may be the simplest way to look at it. I’ve heard of a few treasure hunters you could say.. seeking relics and the like but ended up broken or just lost in the labyrinth. Instead of some prize they found a curse.”

He shrugged lightly. “So yeah, many have visited. Not all endured.. it tests more than skill. Discipline, patience, even desire. A bit of everything”

Maybe there was still a small part of him left from the Core Worlds, from the Mid Rim, that could find that pragmatic rhythm. A few Sith in the Outer Rim could probably make the bold claim that he knew how to act accordingly sometimes. “Probably best to respect the challenge ahead, no?” His gaze turned to Naniti, a small smile forming. “Play it smart. Personally, I kind of like the idea of living a little longer..”

The horizon shifted, and the Gate emerged like a wound in the valley, beneath the crimson skies. “This place.. it amplifies whatever’s already there. Dark energy, fear, ambition.. all of it. I mean, the Temple didn’t invent it. It just funnels it. Some of what you felt earlier, I’m guessing, that’s the Nexus playing with your senses.”

They still had a fair stretch to cover.. enough to consider the next move, or admit that nothing had prepared them for this.

 

[Naniti]

Naniti looked over at Lysander without a smile as if the question were unprompted. Her dark lips opened and closed. Blue eyes shifted aside for a moment. "Are you familiar with physics? Wave-particle duality? Just something I read once... the Machine is both real and not. I think some people compare everything to an archaic timekeeping device with gears?" The Togruta shook her head, not entirely sure what such a primitive device looked like. "How it fails... I don't know. But I see it, Lysander. Not the road leading to it yet, but it's out there."

For his part, Lysander spoke of the Valley ahead and its significance. Naniti listened, curious what the tales spoke of. Not all of it made sense at first. How did you bend death, for one. Necromancy? That might be useful for an army, but it didn't sound all that impressive. Maybe if it was eternal life or something? Of course Acolyte spoke of living forever -- who didn't? If anything, bending death conjured up such images long before the idea of raising corpses. Which one was more realistic? Well, raising the dead, apparently; Naniti assumed the ghost stories of this place had a cause.

"Tests?" Naniti echoed before she gave Lysander a nod at respecting the challenging. Sounded like one hell of a test ahead.

"Yeah," she breathed before she furrowed her brow. "What I felt? You mean the weight and dread? The sense of impending death? That unique to this Nexus?" Naniti had yet to comment anything about speaking High Sith earlier. "I'll try to keep my emotions in check." As they'd yet to discuss certain topics, or Naniti explain how she managed to hide them so well as Lysander would comment later on.

"And there's something we're angling to get out of this. Anything I should know to focus my efforts? Make sure I don't end up lost in the labyrinth." Maybe her talent could help them, but that would depend on what Lysander sought for them to achieve. How far they'd go. Even then, she worried about revealing so much too soon. If she could figure out how. "I'll follow your lead. Whatever you think we need to explore."

Lysander von Ascania

 

[Lysander von Ascania]

Naniti
​

Lysander drew in another breath; the red Korriban sun felt like it was starting to bake him. He wasn’t familiar with her references, and his mind was branching out with endless questions and angles in attempt to acknowledge the gap. Truthfully, he didn’t know where to start.

“You.. I’m not sure I follow,” he admitted. He wasn’t embarrassed, just.. honest, the kind of honesty you let slip when curiosity overrides pride and everything else. “I’ve never really studied any of that.” He knew it was important to her though. Phrasing something you didn’t understand was quite tricky, and he wasn’t in the mood to sound ignorant either.. especially before they were above to dive straight into Nexus.

“Tell me more. Or.. show me, however you can. I don’t even know where to start.” Something to help step in whatever framework she had glimpsed, or the patterns she traced.

A small crease formed between his brows. “It’s fine to feel it. Weight, dread, fear.. they’re tools, if you let them be, no?”

He caught himself picturing the corridors once more, the darkness pressed close. Not every Sith knew what it felt like to stare into the abyss and wonder if they’ll return intact. “Nexuses.. they've been used for many things.. rites of passage for some, tests of loyalty perhaps, trials to see who can endure the deepest despair. Some have sought guidance, wisdom from ancient spirits. Others..power, influence, secrets in death’s shadow. And some..” Lysander hesitated, “some go to see if they can survive themselves.. to confront the corruption and terror that hides in the corners of the Force.”

The teen’s jaw tightened, then eased. In that silence, he also felt the first tremor of the abyss ahead. “For me, Naniti…” His green eyes met hers before returning to the path, “it’s about proving I can withstand it all.. the fear, the allure of power, the whispers that twist the mind.. and still lead. For me, leadership isn’t just knowing strategy or doctrine. It’s knowing what corrupts, what tempts, and still being able to guide others through it. Because if I stumble, the consequences aren’t mine alone.. they’re the failures of everyone depending on me.”

A quiet sigh escaped his lips, and a hand lifted to rub the back of his neck. “And maybe.. I need something to finally reshape my identity.. help me forget the past.”

His focus shifted to a monolithic arch of black stone that rose before them. “The ritual to open it isn’t complicated.. but it is unforgiving. You start with telekinesis. With that stone buried in the entrance. It has to be raised and kept there.”

Drawing the back of his wrist across his forehead, he wiped a sheen of sweat away. “Then lightning and fire.. at the same moment. One tears the veil open.. the other stops it from.. swallowing your arm while you hold it apart.”

That sounded better than saying the veil could collapse and consume the caster, right?

“It was meant for pairs, but yeah, a few idiots have tried it alone. And after that.. the Force drains. Everything feels lighter in the worst possible way. Balance, thoughts.. everything is said to blur. The dread you felt earlier at the temple? Here, it roots itself. That’s how it will decide if you’re worth letting in.”

Even standing there in its presence, thoughts were moving through him like old cold water.

Pyrokinesis. Check. Lightning. Check. Still, he couldn't wield them simultaneously.

“So.. would you.. rather burn the veil with fire, or tear it apart with lightning?”

Of the two, he was certain he could teach one. Still, he wanted to hear her view on it all.