Activity in the Archives

[Serian Loria]

Since the meeting to decide on the best course of action for the Traitor he’d been busy at work. He’d not yet made an appearance into the archives, but he had a good reason. He directed the droids carrying boxes to set them in a circle in the center and set to work at the table dead center, writing. In his head were countless things he’d read during his time as the lead Archivist in his past. He’d spent earlier that day walking the aisles and had discovered that he had had read tomes, scrolls and mere slips of parchment that could fill in the holes. He even, because of his diligent work before his stasis, preserved whole tomes and other information and had recently gone and retrieved those precious caches of information.

He’d not yet found them all as he had scattered them about, but he could get to work putting to paper the things he’d read. Having a photographic memory had downsides, everyday stimuli, like a holovid commercial or even a random name shouted within his hearing might spark a flash of information. A name could be a word from a dead language and if he’d read it the definition and origins of that name might pop into his head at random. He could write out hundreds of pages worth of text, but it left him mentally fatigued because of the strain. Despite this, he was putting this talent to use, filling in gaps in the library.

Where he sat, the boxes of paper and ink looked to be chaos, pages that he finished would fly from before him to settle into a stack of paper on a table he’d commanded. Indeed, all the tables within sight from where he sat he specifically ordered not to be disturbed or he would have issues. The staff in the Templar Archives could only watch, first confused and then in shock as little by little he managed to put to paper things that wad been lost. After about four hours of hardly a break at all, he stood up and walked away sitting down and putting a hand to his forehead. Words, maps, sentences, line after line of words still flew past his eyes making him more than a little light headed.

He could feel a headache building, the pressure like a needle being pressed through the soft tissue making him grit his teeth. That pain of course gave him a blessed cease to the stream of information and, he could think of nothing else at that moment. No one had asked him to do what he did, but it was a choice between work and or brooding over the events of the council summons. He chose to work, because in that regard he could at least feel certain of his success and contribution. It also got him away from his home. [member="Abel Denko"] his apprentice had a wife, something that was quite a surprise to him. The two had only recently connected and, the summons had given him an excuse to give the man some time alone with her.

As happy as he was for the man, the house felt a bit too small and part of the reason he had left was so that he could put space between him and them. Part of him was envious, the two looked to genuinely care for one another, but it left him feeling a bit...out of sorts. What he needed was a distraction and, he suspected, if he threw himself into work his apprentice would protest. The man had taken to keeping on top of him about caring for himself, but he knew very well that without the man he’d end up lapsing back to how things had been before. He was perfectly fine eating his cooking, but on his own he tended to totally forget and or ignore his body’s needs. He ordered the droids to pack up the unmarked paper, standing to arrange the unfinished stacks into clips so he could work more on them later. A couple of them were finished, these he had set aside to be put into a more formal bound tome and set on the shelf along with it’s siblings, if they had any.

He then sat down and massaged the center of his forehead trying to decide if he really wanted to move or if he could suffer through the pain. For the moment he was alone, many had already gone as it was quite late at night.

[member="Isley Verd"]
[member="Abel Denko"]

 

[Ahani Najwa-Zambrano]

A name spouted in a dead language. . . funny how the pages of dusty books flip round their stalks and shelves once again coming up to the form of [member="Serian Loria"]. A slender and tall Echani woman entered the archives. Had she come from the spectres of long-missed past or had she lost her way in the tunnelling halls? Ahani's hair had been braided once, tufts of it falling out of the tight coils to spill haphazard around her face and plaster to her neck. She wore white and grey Echani clothing, which on closer inspection was speckled and mottled. It had all been white once.

Two crests had been emblazoned on the arms of the long sleeved coat: House Xextos and House Najwa. Ahani shivered and stumbled over the edge of a shelving unit, her back hit the wall and she hissed. "Not its name. Not… the right smell." Sniffing at the air, she curled up in a corner of the stacks. "Smells like knowing. Smells like nouns. Not familiar nouns, but the noun itself is familiar. I don't bleed like I did when I fall."

 

[Serian Loria]

At the edges of the room he heard something, felt the kiss of an aura that was in full bloom instead of the fledgling taste he had felt so long ago. He stood up with shock, was it possible? He moved, despite the pain in his head, towards the woman and when he saw her he could only stare, numb. She had been merely an initiate, Raien had claimed her as his own he knelt and reached out a hand to gently touch her shoulder. “Ahani?”

He wasn’t certain, was he seeing a ghost? She looked to be in poor condition and the state of her clothing mirrored it. So many questions he had, but first he had to ascertain whether or not who he was seeing was real, he couldn’t believe his eyes.

[member="Ahani Najwa"]

 

[Ahani Najwa-Zambrano]

Ahani glanced up from her curl in the stacks, shoulders shivering and chin wobbled the woman blinked at this new apparition. Any understanding within the recesses of her mind had faltered, she shook and pressed herself further into the corner. "No. No, no, no, no. . . he's clinging. First the dreams, shutting eyes is foul work! Foul, wicked! He won't take my waking . . no. NO, no, no, no, no."

She thrashed wildly and suddenly, a powerful blast of telekinetic wave buffeting against the ghost of a man she knew once, when she lived on Munto Cudro and baked in a kitchen with her vornskyr waiting peaceably and calm. Or, as calm as a Sith could be in the embrace of a madman of betrayal and vengeance. "I knew your name once." Her voice shook with her shoulders, she reached out then cringed and threw her arms over her head with a wail. "You smell like memory but I don't want to! I don't want to listen to the words!" Books and scrolls began to pick up in Ahani's emotional winds, the woman shuddered.

"Wake up! Wake up, wake up, wake up."

 

[Serian Loria]

He stumbled back and connected with a shelf behind him, totally caught off guard. He tried to grab the edge, but his fingers slipped and he ended up dropping to sprawl rather ungracefully on the floor. As he stood up he couldn’t help staring, this was not the vibrant passionate woman who he’d seen standing beside Raien Keth. He touched her mind, probably not a wise thing to do, but with telepathy one cannot lie and he wanted her to know that he was not a memory. Ahani, I’m not a memory, it really is me.

He couldn’t think of what else to do, but seeing her like this actually broke his heart, where was that damned man? Did Keth do something to her? Was this from his own madness? He moved to her side again and pulled her close, he was prepared for another burst of Power this time. All he could do was make gentle shhh’ing noises and rock her. This type of tenderness would have seemed out of character, but he’d been Raien’s ally once and swore an oath he’d look after her. That of course was before the man started to lose his mind to the depths he had, but he still honored it.

[member="Ahani Najwa"]

 

[Ahani Najwa-Zambrano]

Inside Ahani's mind, the depravity which had become Raien Keth splayed her out. The woman's mind had been sliced apart piece meal, sutured together in sprays of Light from her son's own efforts, Manu's sometimes daily ministrations had but cobbled together the pieces of a working consciousness. A corner of her mind bathed in crystal, where Raien Keth himself stood locked in a prison of his wife's making. His grin covered in gore, he reached his chittering teeth to another piece of Ahani's mind and sawed into it. The woman bawled, she kicked and shrieked but [member="Serian Loria"] was on her and the shriek turned to a gurgling wail as Ahani threw her arms around Serian's neck.

As was his want, Keth never let go. The Betrayer had spent 800 years poisoning Ahani's mind and hadn't released her. She dug into Serian's shirt and wept. "How a-are. . h'h-how..."

 

[Serian Loria]

Once she clung to him he picked her up, there were couches in a more comfortable area and he took her there continuing to hold her. For all the evil he had done and would do, he had never gone so far as that. Her mind, it was a mess, he felt the presence and he bat at it with his own aura, hoping to chase off the shadow of whatever it was. The mind was a fragile place, to feel hers so mauled was a blow, he couldn’t comprehend it. Still, whatever it was he felt certain he was the stronger force. Like the shadow of great black wings he tried his best to project his own mental strength in defence to her fragility.

This entire time he sat next to her, holding her and trying to keep her calm. Who was he to do such a thing? Tainted as he was. He still had honor, he couldn’t just abandon her. “Its a long story… A sad one, I doubt you want to hear it, I don’t want to add to your sorrows by showing you mine.”


[member="Ahani Najwa"]

 

[Ahani Najwa-Zambrano]

The shadow but drifted to other corners of her dim and haunted mind. The energy and presence could not be created nor destroyed and Ahani remained lifted and carried in the arms of a man she'd known once in another dream. He'd been a loose affiliate, a battle-brother or older son. She'd been the bride of the Betrayer and held in the grasp of the wicked, had slain millions in Keth's name.

Some sins were loathe to let go. Time did not heal them, nor did rust destroy them. Ahani curled into [member="Serian Loria"]'s arms as a child curled into a protective parent, she laid her head against his shoulder and the wet splashes of her eyes drained onto her cheeks with a weary frequency and vengeance. "Y-y-you.. You are you. You smell like almost you. Nearly you. I..I.I.. I must look gross."

 

[Serian Loria]

He gave a soft chuckle “Not gross, merely...lost. Lucky that I found you, no?”

Part, yet not apart, that was how he’d been in their past. He stood beside some, those who were worthy to fight beside and always followed his word. Pariah, that was how it had seemed he had become, out right scorned and belittled, yet still striving to follow the will of the Empire. Shadow stalker he’d been named, fear and taunt both, only Raien had seen him for what he was and Telara. One lost, ages ago, one...uncertain. If she was alive, was he? He’d always been courteous to her, the mate of his friend, though he suspected that the man he’d known is no longer. This brought him sadness. He dare not ask her the questions he wished, she was so fragile and he worried it would only splinter her further.

Yet, who could he seek the answers from? She’d had family, a son he thought a daughter, the man had been a constant thorn in Raien’s side. Yes, he was certain she had a son, but would asking about him set her off? Dalia. What had happened to her? She had disappeared, like the wind, nothing had ever managed to hold on to her, not even him. Telara, she had been someone who he could love, someone who would have stayed beside him, had she lived. It brought the grief back, he pushed it away. He focused on Ahani and the possibilities she represented, the good and the bad.

[member="Ahani Najwa"]

 

[Ahani Najwa-Zambrano]

Eventually Ahani pushed herself up, rubbed at her face with her sleeve and stumbled into a bookshelf. She began to giggle as if drunk on the swirling ichor of the past, tainted and framed behind the red eyed bandit who found her once again in the odd facility of archives and books. "Lucky, eh? One place in the universe I try and rebuild and lo and behold, the Shadow. The pink eyed scoundrel with eyes for my daughter. . . it was written on you both. I ignored it for the most part, didn't want to mention something and force Dalia into thinking she'd stick with you just in case I thought she couldn't do it. Stupid child. . . never was the smartest, that one. Oh it's okay. I didn't mind. Thought I'd have minded, but I didn't. Not at all." The giggle burst from her mouth again, she slid down to the ground and laid her head on the floor, pressed against it till her ear hurt.

"You fooouuund me. Weren't even looking but there we are. Found. Found sounds like sound. Its a kind of sound. Not mind sound but ear sound. I can hear the ground."

 

[Serian Loria]

He sighed “Dalia…” There was a wealth of emotion in that breath he breathed her name with. “She left me, like the wind is won’t to do, I loved her in my own way, but she...never kindled passion in me. I realize that now, though I did love her, it just wasn’t a devouring force. I was...content, to watch her, to see her be herself, but I know she’d never trust me. She...wanted something I wish I could have given her. She was smart, just liked to live on the edge, see how far she could go teetering on the edge of a knife. Reckless, but glorious.” He looked over at her “Perhaps its fate, my being here when you’d arrived. Ever a strange set of strings that pull us hither and yon to be exactly where we need to be.”


[member="Ahani Najwa"]

 

[Ahani Najwa-Zambrano]

"Dalia was a c'thu." Ahani waved, cracking her neck. "She couldn't trust anybody 'cause the daddy issues were so . . . I don't know. I tried to reach out to that girl but I must have screwed her something fierce during her raising. Then again, I was in prison for most of her formative years so that answers that. Dalia was the product of Raien's derangement. She was the future of the Echani, Raien's golden child. The daughter he wanted." Pushing up from the floor again, Ahani paced the Archive floor, her eyes frenetic in watching [member="Serian Loria"].

"You gave her acceptance. She's Echani… hadn't I said this once? We don't function with maybes. Being Echani is being open and exposed. We fight to the death because living in half measures and temporary situations eats us alive from the inside. Who did I tell this to? I can't remember. We can see her running along the cliffs, watch her fly. We don't know who she's running from, but she dare not look behind her. I look behind and look where it gets me. He's in my brain, Serian. Living there like he bought and paid for it."

Lifting her hands over her head, she gripped the wall and stretched. "I found out what happened to her. You're gonna hate it."

 

[Serian Loria]

He wasn’t going to argue with her, he merely listened, accepting it. “In the end I tried not to hold her down, perhaps I should have…” She spoke of the thing he had sensed and closed his eyes, when she spoke of Dalia’s fate he stood up abruptly and turned his back on her. He brought one hand to his opposite arm gripping it “Don’t…. Don’t tell me. I have enough grief ripping at my heart, knowing that too, I…”

He bowed his head closing his eyes. He had hoped she had lived a happy life, that wherever she had gone. There were times he felt like he was drowning, even before his stasis, grief and regret choking him, dragging him under. He wasn’t the type to hole up and wallow, he worked and tried to survive it. He had his own shattered parts, with no chance at absolution to be free of them, his cross to bear. He tried to make sure he didn’t make the same mistakes, mistakes that would add to the weight on his soul. He hated feeling like he did, this weakness being showed before her. Part of him wanted to rage at her, to rip it from her so that it would be forgotten, but he didn’t.

[member="Ahani Najwa"]

 

[Ahani Najwa-Zambrano]

"She was loved, in the end. Enough that her children survived her. The Najwa women still look like Dalia and I. So there's that." The man seemed more choked than Ahani would have thought. Would he hate hearing what had become of the girl? Probably so. It was a bitter taste in her mouth, a smell in her nostrils that didn't sweeten the air.

"You're into books again. Another archive for the Lore Master, hmm? I kill things. Fit for it, I guess."

 

[Serian Loria]

He looked back at her, he was glad she at least had that, though knowing she had had the kind of life he would ‘dislike’ brought him no joy. He pulled himself together, imposing upon himself the control he was known for, putting up a mask to hide how vulnerable he still felt. Her appearance, had shaken him “I was never good at much else, books...I understand those and if I make a mess of them its easier to correct. I suppose I could have tried to do something new, but in the end this is what I know best. The only difference is that this time...my position is seen as an honor, not as something to mock. Isley found value in what I learned, I’m still surprised he didn’t just make me one of the lower Archivists.”

She might catch a gleam into something that in the past that might not have been seen in the past. He didn’t have much faith in his talents, that being so highly valued was certainly not something he thought anyone would see in him. Value in themselves was something instilled in children at a young age. Knowing ones worth, being proud in ones strengths, these things were fundamental. He saw his strengths as a means to an end, something accepted and improved on, but that was all. As a general thing he never took praise well, always seeing what he could have done better. He would bow his head, seem like he took it, but it always slid off, never sticking.

It made him overly critical of himself, always unsatisfied, hardly ever content. It made him into a very precise person, making sure to never waste an action lest more flaws are revealed. It never made him feel worthy, not of anything or anyone, which left a void in him for something to stick and fill that emptiness. With enough time he could learn to see such things, to take strength from it, but first he needed support from someone he trusted. The problem was, he had no such person. Nor did he intend to let anyone get close to him, it would be more pain that he didn’t want.


[member="Ahani Najwa"]