Private After The Storm

[Isobel Serraris]

AFTER THE STORM​

LOCATION — Naboo, Shiraya's Sanctuary, Meditation Summit
TAGS — Ala Quin

The golden dunes of Jakku still tainted the mindscape; the shriek of tanks firing as they neared the enclave, the agonising scrape of sand upon skin and the cold bite of accusations speared at Acier and Arris . It had to happen, Bel told herself time and time again, she had to leave before the poison--the wrath, the greed--would consume her too. But. . . it still left her hollow within, fraught with fears that no amount of picking at her nails could soothe. The skin of her fingers bled and stung, but it failed to mend or overcome the void festering in her heart.

Mere hours since the carnage upon the desert planet, her freighter landed upon the platforms near Shiraya's Sanctuary. It had been a year, mayhap less, since she had parted from the Order, taken on 'exile' to relearn what it meant to be a Jedi. A choice of her own making, one that had since shadowed her with certain regret.

Dressed in her old Padawan robes--embroidered with countless flora--Isobel had made herself known to the guards, being honest and cooperative from start to finish even if it such willingness made them wary of her true motive. Of whether the Sith still whispered in her ear, luring her into bouts of violence and depravity. Her remaining lightsaber was taken and her ship was grounded until further notice, until whatever verdict may come from the higher ranked.

Two armoured Jedi Guards led her from the platforms into the cavernous hall of the sanctuary. Brown eyes darted about, studying the many facets shaping the temple: the Nabooan architecture, the way the sunlight poured through the windows, and the passing class of initiates heading for the training course--it was a home refound and a mercy dismissing the tensions of the body. To know naught had changed since she had last roamed these halls, that even Ashla's Light had not vanished when all the Galaxy had been tainted by the shadow of Bogan.

Traversing a myriad of stairs, their path at last led them to the peak of the temple; the meditation summit. One guard slipped through the large doors first, announcing the dreamer's purpose here: "Grand Master Quin." The figure bowed their head out of respect: "A Sith of the Covenant--The former Padawan Isobel Serraris--has surrendered herself to us following. . . an assault on the Jakku Enclave." Once announced, the doors opened and the other sentinel stepped through, holding a firm hand upon the deserter.

Her brow furrowed lightly as she took in the words of the other guard, bowing her head only briefly: "If you had listened, you would know I am not a Sith-- It was an. . . association with them. A folly." A sharp exhale dimmed the faint agitation within, before she continued, eyes wandering from the short Jedi Master to the guards whose mere aura thundered with reasonable doubt and suspicion. "My presence here does not undo how wrong it was to ally with their sort, but I seek to wander the path of the Jedi again. Whatever it takes."