Hell Follows Her
It was hard to believe it hadn't even been one day. Less than a day since Syala had departed for Belgaroth. Less than a day since she had faced off with a Sith Lord in the Scrapyard. Less than a day since she had been blinded and scarred by poison from his amphistaves. Less than a day since the peacekeeping mission had been abandoned in favor of those that had embarked survived the ordeal. Somehow it felt like ages had passed, yet at the same time it seemed as if no time had passed at all since that clash. Trauma had a funny way with things, distorting one's sense of time until they weren't certain whether to trust in their own senses anymore. Of course, that could have just as easily been due to her newfound sightlessness as anything else. It wasn't as if adjusting to having only four senses was easy.
There was much she wasn't able to recall, beginning with her transportation back to Voss. The ship ride had transpired in fits and bursts, with her only able to recall bits and pieces of hushed conversation over her head. It was then she had first been made aware that the only way to achieve sight again would be to replace her organic eyes with cybernetics. The majority of her time had been spent sleeping, though she was often jarred from these hours of recompense by sporadic and uncontrollable recollections of all that had occurred during her fight with the Sith. It was the illusion pressed into her mind that stuck closely by her, its image refusing to budge from her subconscious no matter how hard she tried. Even in her waking hours it haunted her, but at least then she was able to find some sort of distraction.
At first, the pain itself had been unbearable, wrenching her from her thoughts and forcing her to consciousness, a burning reminder of her failure. Time and time again it seemed as if she was reliving the exact moment of her blinding whenever that pain resurfaced. But eventually even that had subsided through copious amounts of pain medication. Nothing more was capable of alleviating it. Even finding solace in the Force proved impossible, as she wasn't able to focus through the agony long enough to draw on the ethereal even momentarily. As if being blinded wasn't bad enough, she wasn't able to take comfort in the same energy field that had always been a comforting and welcoming presence in her life. That only served to add insult to injury, not that she needed help with that. She was doing a fine enough job of questioning every move she'd made during the fight.
But now they had finally arrived on Voss. Finally she was back to some semblance of familiarity, some sense of comfort. Even then she knew it wouldn't last long, as her Master had been immediately notified the minute the ship had touched down in the temple hangar. It seemed as if the galaxy itself was against her receiving even a moment of peace by herself. Once Connor arrived she knew he would be fussing and worrying over her every need. Once he was satisfied she was well enough, however, he would begin questioning her on every aspect of the confrontation so that he might pursue the Sith and deliver his own brand of retribution. That was simply how he operated, but she wouldn't have wanted things any other way. All she would ask this time is that she would be allowed to accompany him.
For the moment all she could do was wait with these idle thoughts. That was the worst part of it all, being confined to the medical bay. Why couldn't she at least be allowed time by the lake, where she and her Master had talked so many times before? In return she had been informed that the medical wing was the safest place for her at the moment, what with her fresh wounds and still persistent pains. And so there she remained, much to her silent and unspoken irritation. Sure, she might have been hurt, but it wasn't as if she couldn't walk. Sight was the only issue that prevented her from doing much of anything, but even that was secondary to her involuntary confinement. After all, she was a Knight of the Order, and had just fought a Sith Lord mere hours earlier. What harm would a lakeside walk do her?
Confined to her bed she remained, with bandages wound about her sightless eyes and the still raw and tender pink flesh that surrounded them. An IV had been inserted into her left hand, the robes she had worn there discarded in favor of the much looser hospital gown. Blankets had been pulled up to her waist. Thankfully her lightsaber still remained, its weight a comforting thing in her lap. There she waited for Connor's arrival, for better or worse.
[member="Connor Harrison"]
There was much she wasn't able to recall, beginning with her transportation back to Voss. The ship ride had transpired in fits and bursts, with her only able to recall bits and pieces of hushed conversation over her head. It was then she had first been made aware that the only way to achieve sight again would be to replace her organic eyes with cybernetics. The majority of her time had been spent sleeping, though she was often jarred from these hours of recompense by sporadic and uncontrollable recollections of all that had occurred during her fight with the Sith. It was the illusion pressed into her mind that stuck closely by her, its image refusing to budge from her subconscious no matter how hard she tried. Even in her waking hours it haunted her, but at least then she was able to find some sort of distraction.
At first, the pain itself had been unbearable, wrenching her from her thoughts and forcing her to consciousness, a burning reminder of her failure. Time and time again it seemed as if she was reliving the exact moment of her blinding whenever that pain resurfaced. But eventually even that had subsided through copious amounts of pain medication. Nothing more was capable of alleviating it. Even finding solace in the Force proved impossible, as she wasn't able to focus through the agony long enough to draw on the ethereal even momentarily. As if being blinded wasn't bad enough, she wasn't able to take comfort in the same energy field that had always been a comforting and welcoming presence in her life. That only served to add insult to injury, not that she needed help with that. She was doing a fine enough job of questioning every move she'd made during the fight.
But now they had finally arrived on Voss. Finally she was back to some semblance of familiarity, some sense of comfort. Even then she knew it wouldn't last long, as her Master had been immediately notified the minute the ship had touched down in the temple hangar. It seemed as if the galaxy itself was against her receiving even a moment of peace by herself. Once Connor arrived she knew he would be fussing and worrying over her every need. Once he was satisfied she was well enough, however, he would begin questioning her on every aspect of the confrontation so that he might pursue the Sith and deliver his own brand of retribution. That was simply how he operated, but she wouldn't have wanted things any other way. All she would ask this time is that she would be allowed to accompany him.
For the moment all she could do was wait with these idle thoughts. That was the worst part of it all, being confined to the medical bay. Why couldn't she at least be allowed time by the lake, where she and her Master had talked so many times before? In return she had been informed that the medical wing was the safest place for her at the moment, what with her fresh wounds and still persistent pains. And so there she remained, much to her silent and unspoken irritation. Sure, she might have been hurt, but it wasn't as if she couldn't walk. Sight was the only issue that prevented her from doing much of anything, but even that was secondary to her involuntary confinement. After all, she was a Knight of the Order, and had just fought a Sith Lord mere hours earlier. What harm would a lakeside walk do her?
Confined to her bed she remained, with bandages wound about her sightless eyes and the still raw and tender pink flesh that surrounded them. An IV had been inserted into her left hand, the robes she had worn there discarded in favor of the much looser hospital gown. Blankets had been pulled up to her waist. Thankfully her lightsaber still remained, its weight a comforting thing in her lap. There she waited for Connor's arrival, for better or worse.
[member="Connor Harrison"]