Private Ashes of Coruscant

[Lysander von Ascania]

Valaine Valentine ​

The credits earned through hustling alongside Madrona A’Mia on the planet of Korriban had at long last afforded him something he’d never possessed: a ship of his own. For the blonde, it was a symbol of freedom, feeling like he may have finally found control over his own fate. He was bound for Arkania, the bounty marked and waiting, the payout promising. Yet a detour, born of whispers, reached him first.

News that the Empire extended its grip to his sister’s home.

The Bevelle-class Light Freighter pierced through the layers of Coruscant atmosphere; though, the city planet would be far different from how he remembered it. This was the place where his journey as a Padawan had once begun; a path first tread by Corazona von Ascania . After more than a year in the Outer Rim, he now felt a pull back to the world he had once abandoned.

He landed after finding a slot in a public terminal. While gazing out into the streets, it echoed with memories he had long tried to suppress. His boots carried him to the remains of an old Jedi Temple, the once grand structure now ravaged, its roof collapsed, revealing the sky above. Despite the recent conflict, the temple still offered what he needed for his discipline, for Lysander never missed an opportunity to train; and after long hours in hyperspace, this was exactly what he craved.

Dressed in his usual black tunic and leggings, and worn boots, the acolyte radiated a calm aura. As if summoned towards the temples' scarred heart, more memories surged to the surface.

He had been here before, just a Padawan, smaller, still clinging to the idea of peace.

But even then, an undercurrent of darkness pulsed within him, a truth that couldn't have been denied forever.

He remembered training beside Cora, their laughter echoing through these halls.

That sound was long gone.

The boy, even more so.

So he began, with slow, dynamic stretches, loosening the tension in his muscles and preparing his body for the training session ahead.

While the temple still offered isolation, his mind was not soothed by calm.. it was driven by purpose. There was no burning rage within him, nor the ruthless ambition that marked so many of his Sith brethren.

Only clear intent.

Reaching inward, he tapped into familiar reserves of energy, reflexes now heightened. With both feet planted firmly, crimson blade ignited, and he began gliding across the floor in confident arcs.

 

[Valaine Valentine]

Tags - Lysander von Ascania

Within the war-torn temple stalked another figure, a young woman who scoured its crumbling halls, a vulture picking at the bones left behind by the conflict. Having grown up in an isolated environment upon Jutrand Valaine knew very little of the Jedi, and now here she was within what was left of one of their temples. She sought their history, their tools, and their knowledge, as she lifted up heavy stones and moved them aside. Nothing but a looter in essence.

Her form was somewhat slouched forward, her steps trudged along with a lack of enthusiasm as she pressed further in. Her presence in the force was always lacking, and so she found it easy to navigate such places. She pondered briefly if she'd maybe find a survivor, a holdout, or perhaps even someone who had returned for something they left behind.

She smirked at the thought of potentially getting a chance to prove herself against the eternal foe of the Sith. But her steps stopped suddenly as she heard, rather than sensed, something around the next corner.

Peeking around the corner she had come across what looked to her like what was left of the training grounds of the temple, but more importantly, she saw the movement of a crimson saber in practice. It puzzled her at first to think another had the same idea to scour the place, but this person seemed to just be... training?

Noting that this individual was likely part of the Order she moved around the corner and made herself known. Her trudging steps advanced into the training grounds and for a moment her gaze shifted about to take in the sight of it before settling back upon Lysander.

Her eyes seemed tired, filled with a dismissive disinterest at all times as her soft voice spoke out, "You're a little far from the Blackwall. Take a wrong turn?" she stated as her head tilted lightly in curiosity.

 

[Lysander von Ascania]

Valaine Valentine
​

The acolyte moved with grace at first, like a dance long remembered, flowing smoothly in a series of katas, while shifting his weight from his back foot to the front. Now, dust kicked up with each step, memories in their own right.

An elbow was tucked in above his ribs, conserving energy, then pivoting on the heel. He launched a low strike in a sweeping arc that cut upward through the still air. There was no pause; then, mimicking that of a parried attack, he countered with control, deflecting the motion, and driving his blade forward. The movements were all in the melody of Djem So; not his original form, but one he’d spent the past year trying to perfect.

He barely felt warmed up, lithe frame humming with readiness, every muscle engaged, yet his focus was on the timing, on the spaces between, rather than brute strength. Breathing remained even, nostrils flaring, with not a single drop of adrenaline, as there would have been had this still been a training ground in possession of the Jedi.

It wasn’t long before a presence brushed the edges of his awareness. He did not flinch. A risky move, certainly, but he offered no acknowledgment. Not until a voice cut through the air.

"You're not wrong," he admitted. "I have traveled far from the Blackwall. But I have not lost my way." His posture softened ever so slightly, revealing a note of reflection. "I suppose this place used to be sacred for some," he continued, attention drifting over the ruins, "but now, it is just quiet. Easier to think, easier to train, than I originally remembered it."

Lysander's emerald gaze shifted to meet her. "I came here to remember. You came here to dig. Perhaps we are not so different."

Another pause, longer this time, before concluding. "If you seek answers, then you will need to ask better questions."

It was true the rumors of Coruscant had spread like wildfire throughout the galaxy, though he believed most to just be narrated by either fear or pride. There were always secrets remaining hidden, waiting to be discovered. His curiosity stirred, awakening from its slumber.

​

 

[Valaine Valentine]

Tags - Lysander von Ascania

Valaine tilted her head curiously, he had come here to remember? She glanced around the ruins before her tired eyes settled back upon him. "Oh... One of theirs, were you?" she asked bluntly as she started to make her way onto the training ground with a slow and lazy motion, like every footstep was a hassle to her. "My digging around isn't going to offend you is it?" she spoke as she moved to stand a small distant before Lysander.

She had recognized the form he practiced for it was one she had been eager to learn as well. With that in mind, and without really any flair, she pulled a training saber from the folds of fabric of her robes and ignited it. Without any explanation she moved into the appropriate stance and seemingly started to mirror the man's movements with a slow and steady sort of precision.

"Were you just reminiscing, or trying to remember something important?" she asked finally as she kept her tired focus upon him. She was ever learning, and ever taking any additional chance to learn, especially now that she found it difficult to return to academies.

 

[Lysander von Ascania]

Valaine Valentine ​

He stood rooted in place, his crimson blade still ignited and casting a haunting glow off to his side; a reflection of the darkness that clung to him now. His shoulders were relaxed, bearing the weight of his past with the ease of someone now accustomed to the burden of sins. Though only a year had passed since he left the Light behind, the battles under the Sith Order's banners, a near death experience in the Galactic Kaggath, and constant trials endured on Korriban had aged him well beyond his years. And in that short span of time, he had grown more than in all his previous years combined.

As she drew closer, movements slow, there was a shift he sensed but could not yet name.

But it wasn’t danger.

Gone were the days when he hid his true origins as a Jedi; now, those secrets were open wounds, displayed for all to see. "Yes," he spoke softly, "I once walked these halls as one of them."

With a slow inhale, he grounded himself. Taking a step forward, his blade returned to cutting through the air; not in the way when executing lethal intent, but in a slow, fluid flow behind a highly attuned mind.

"Ask your questions," he invited. "Maybe we'll both find answers among these ruins."

During the kata, Lysander shifted smoothly on his feet, adjusting his stance to face her more directly. He studied her form, not to dissect any flaws, but with curiosity. "You could say I am rehearsing the past," he explained, "but.. also hunting for the spark that set me on this path."

From the forearm to her pivot, her movements spoke louder than words.

“Djem So.”

He let out a soft breath, mirroring the thrum of his saber; then he tightened one hand around the hilt. "That form serves the entire heart, meaning you’re all in, old memories fueling each strike. What made you choose that one?”

 

[Valaine Valentine]

Tags - Lysander von Ascania

Valaine's movements appeared practiced at first glance but they lacked something integral that was hard to pin. It could've been a lack of enthusiasm, a lack of true understanding of the form, or simply a distracted mind. It was plain to see she wasn't as proficient in Djem So as Lysander was, but that's why she practiced.

She pondered on his words, especially that he was looking for the 'spark'. She presumed this to have meant that in some fashion Lysander had faltered in purpose, or lost it entirely, and was seeking for a way to kindle it once again. "Looking for the spark in a Jedi temple might set you down a very different path." she cautioned lightly as she continued in her slow and deliberately movements with her training saber. Now and then her strike was a little too unaligned, sometimes too shallow, and others too extended. But it at least seemed that she was aware of these faults as her gaze drifted to her weapon each time it happened.

The question of why she had chosen to practice Djem So came unexpected to her, for it wasn't something she had thought much about herself. She initially wanted to delve into it for its advantages when it came to the unnatural strength she possessed, but anyone looking at her might think her far too frail to get the best out of the form.

She pondered on his words for a brief moment, trying to decipher if there was any deeper reason she had been pulled towards it. "The only fuel I have that I can give it are bad memories. I think it's easier to strike in anger with it than others I've practiced. I want to learn Makashi too but... Something about that form feels alien to me."

 

[Lysander von Ascania]

Valaine Valentine
​

He flowed with precision, each kata like a slow moving dance of power. Beneath those strikes, something whispered of a missing puzzle piece in this scenario, though he hadn't sought it either. Entering with a training saber caused his mind to wander for a moment. However, his movements, matched with inner calm, did allow him to sift through those stirrings.

A faint tug rose at the corner of his mouth; submission to the Light's dogma would never be an option. "History has shown that the Jedi's ideals often crumble within the very temples they build," he mused cynically, "I imagine most of them have already fled to the Mid Rim, pretending the galaxy isn't already engulfed in flames."

Though his mastery of Djem So remained incomplete, he couldn't help but notice a few minuscule flaws in both her offensive and defensive aspects; this was solely due to self awareness, rather than breeding superiority.

Lysander's tone was gentle, but firm. “Some of your strikes are too shallow, which comes from hesitating.”

He nodded thoughtfully, her words resonating with him. "When I first began studying Djem So, there was something about its brute force that intrigued me," he admitted. "It tapped into something words couldn't explain at the time."

The next sequence of strikes waned, and the acolyte straightened his posture. Makashi was his original form, his true favorite, a carryover from fencing back on his home world. "Makashi's elegance has a way of unsettling people," he explained, rotating his wrist to reveal the curve of his lightsaber hilt, specifically designed for dueling, and also being a reflection of his commitment to Form II. "It whispers, whereas Djem So.. is a storm. Makashi is like a game of chess; it rewards those who think three moves ahead."

Twirling the hilt once, his shoulders squared but he did not fall into the opening stance just yet. “I’ve noticed a lot of Sith have the fire. But Makashi? That’s ice. It’s cold.” His gaze dropped to the crimson blade, thumb brushing the emitter gently.

“I can run you through it, if you’d like. Help you find the rhythm, the grace beneath it all.”

 

[Valaine Valentine]

Tags - Lysander von Ascania

Upon the feedback Valaine's form faltered with thought. "Hesitation...?" she spoke softly before she corrected herself once more, "I'd have to wonder what I'm hesitating about.". While no answer came to her on what might be causing her hesitation, it could've very well been something more subconscious and buried she wasn't aware of.

She continued to practice Djem So, along with a maneuver or two that had been taught to her. One in particular was of a winding cut, in which she held her saber aloft to parry an imagined strike and then swiftly redirected the opposing blade as she'd twist her wrist to make for a sudden effortless cut to the neck of her phantom foe. A technique taught to her by Kaila Irons back on Korriban.

Her gaze flicked back to Lysander as she noted the change in his stance, and so for a moment she paused in her own movement to observe. Her tired eyes looked to the curved hilt of the saber he held and her head tilted in curiosity. Stepping into the form of Makashi she extended her training saber forward with a straight arm, trying to keep the blade in line with her arm. She noted quickly the advantage that the curved handle would offer her, as with a standard hilt she had to bend her wrist down at an odd angle to get that blade in line with the rest of her arm. Perhaps this was why the form felt so odd to her, it was awkward to thrust without the curved hilt.

Tired eyes once more returned to Lysander and she offered a nod. "Please do. I've heard it's the best form for a direct duel with another, and I'd like to become someone of renown with a saber one day... So originally it sounded like something I'd want to get good at." she voiced her interest as she prepared to follow Lysander's example, though she did have a pressing question; "The curved hilt, it seems brilliant for thrusts, but does it have any disadvantages over a standard hilt?"

 

[Lysander von Ascania]

Valaine Valentine
​

Lysander's head tilted as his eyes narrowed, studying the way the girl shifted her weight and each step she took to recover balance. Everything was cataloged, from her grip on the training saber's hilt to the inhale and exhale of her breath.

Straightening his own form once more, he drew a deep breath, grounding himself. A knowing nod punctuated his current thoughts. "Makashi is more about outthinking your opponent.. a duel of minds." Eyes drifted back down to the curved hilt being cradled, the weapon itself heavy with memories of the past. “Honestly, these days, it feels like so many just carry these as status symbols.. decorations.. empty badges.”

A slight shrug of his shoulders followed before his gaze lifted, and his tone softened. “In another life, Makashi once ended with grace, a bow at the closing. The curve of the hilt was to mirror that last salute of respect.”

Brows knitted together as a shadow traversed his mind, visions of Ukatis surfacing, where philosophies and differing ideologies had once shaped him. He knew part of that was what left him now with uncertainty. “I was once told that the blade is an extension of your intent, not of ego.” The faintest trace of disappointment flickered across his features beneath those very words.

A pause followed, as he considered how to convey his own experience. “When I first learned fencing, the true artistry..” His voice returned to a low murmur, “was in restraint.. in outlasting your opponent.. in outsmarting them until they made a mistake.”

There was a subtle twitch at the corner of his lips. “My blade is like a scalpel, carving toward the truth. It is precise, but merciless.”

Or, at least that was what he told himself. He spent more time being the nail, rather than the hammer.

His thumb pressed the emitter, powering off his lightsaber and tilting the hilt so the blade aligned with his emerald orbs. “See how the hilt angles the blade just so? If you time your riposte well enough, it tends to slip right past their guard’s weakest point.” Then, he shifted the handle to demonstrate another angle. "I don't fight them. I court them. Lure them into mistakes.. and then, let the blade fall true."

With quiet grace, he stepped back into a guarded stance. Lysander had never been a teacher, always a student, but he tried to speak as best he could. His boots pressed firmly into the ground, allowing weight to roll from heel to ball and back, his knees soft, but always ready.

An invisible line was traced. "So.. first, there's the advance. Heel, ball, feet. Smooth and steady. Then there's the retreat.. ball, heel, ball."

The acolyte's focus flicked back to the girl. "But retreat is never with panic. Always calm, and always in control." Every syllable that fell from his lips was followed by a shift in his own stance, trying to display the rhythm she would need to follow, an invitation.

Sith weren't exactly known for their manners, at least as far as he could recall. Still, an effortless smile graced his youthful features. "I'm Lysander, by the way."

 

[Valaine Valentine]

Tags - Lysander von Ascania

Valaine listened intently to Lysander's understanding of Makashi, and the briefly touched upon history of its lost art and grace. She pondered upon his words and they seemed to make sense to her, nodding gently in response. "So... In the case of something like Djem So, you're more trying to overpower or overwhelm your opponent, a direct contest of strength. But say... If your opponent was stronger than you, you could fall back on Makashi as a means to sort of... change the contest?" she gave a tilt of her head curiously. "Kind of just forcing your own advantage, I guess. Forcing them to play to against theirs."

Her tired eyes studied the curve of the hilt as it was presented and she could see what he meant, the curved hilt gave a different kind of leverage to your strikes, ones that would almost seem to hit sooner than expected because of the curve and alignment of the blade. Such a weapon could no doubt throw a lot of people off on their timing she had thought.

She studied the steps being shown to her as she mirrored them in kind, and for all intents her movement appeared more graceful than before, displaying she could start moving without her lack of interest and effort if she so desired. "I imagine a sense of awareness of your surroundings is really important with Makashi too? I bet it works very well in tight narrow spaces."

At the name given she offered a light smirk and returned her own, "Valaine." she spoke, followed with a nod of greeting. "You really seem to know what you're doing Lysander. Been training for a while?"