Private Below the Clavicle

[Ishida Ashina]

DEFY AND DEFINE DARKNESS
THE NEW JEDI ORDER | PROSPERITY | HALLS OF HEALING
LOOK AT HOW A SINGLE CANDLE
CAN BOTH DEFY AND DEFINE
THE DARKNESS
Amani Serys

Had it stopped bleeding? She peeled the bacta patch back enough to peek at the wound on her chest. Ishida frowned, fully removed the sticky bandage, and tossed it in the room’s receptacle.

Fresh scabs — gnarly, her own handiwork — circled the black scar on the right side of her chest.

No matter what she tried, Ishida was unable to heal the scar herself. Her prowess with medicine was poor, and she’d grown so irritated that instead of pouring more energy into healing, she’d resorted to trying to cut the blackness out.

But it had retaliated each time. As if the fault lines from Tython’s bend through reality continued to entrap each knife that pierced her skin. Once, twice, thrice, the blades became blunt or refused to cut more than a millimetre around the dark shape below her clavicle.

She’d never wanted to come back to these halls, but she couldn’t solve this problem on her own. And as resistant as she was to ask for help (it had been out traumatic last time), she was running out of options. The wound was becoming detrimental.

The place where Laoth ’s Darkshear had pierced through her was starting to feel permanent, and its residual side effects were becoming unignorable. On Selvaris, it had almost debilitated her. On Tython, it had betrayed her heart and misguided her intentions. It was too connected to the darkside. And that was unacceptable.

A noise pulled her from her ruminations, and silver eyes snapped up to the doorway.

“I know you have others to tend to.” Her words were quick and thin. “I won’t take much of your time.”

​

 

[Amani Serys]

The work never ends. In the wake of Tython, that truth was only further assured. Amani was all too happy to oblige, redirecting her attention to those in need of her services; And for the time the Halls of Healing had become her little personal bubble.

She stepped into the room and, given her own visible scars and bandaging, looked more like a fellow patient than her healer. "Oh, that's alright. Triage is a lot more under control now. Shouldn't be a… Woah-" Her machine-like routine was disrupted by the dark presence she now registered. A lingering malice that was unmistakable. Not inherently of Ishida's person, but decidedly on her person.

Amani stared for a beat before setting down her things and walking straight up to the woman. Fingers outstretched to the source of the darkness, stopping just shy of actual contact. Clearly, it was new to her, "How did this--? I've never actually seen this before."

Ishida Ashina​

 

[Ishida Ashina]

"Oh, that's alright. Triage is a lot more under control now. Shouldn't be a… Woah-"

Ishida's spine straightened, and the lines between her shoulders grew taught at the quick approach from the healer. Any relief that came with the notion that the medical bay was under control evaporated with the apprehension of someone coming in so quickly and so close.

She was going to have to get used to it.

"How did this--? I've never actually seen this before."

The tension in her expression fell, somewhat disappointed.

"It's from a weapon, a spear, that was created out of thin air entirely from the darkside," Ishida murmured. "Once it struck its target, me, it disappeared. I don't know... if its darkness is in the scar or not, but.." she sighed.

"I just need it gone. Out. Is that something you think you can do....." she paused intentionally drawing out the question so the healer could drop a name into the sentence.

 

[Amani Serys]

After the initial surprise wore off, Ishida's apparent discomfort became a little more obvious, and the Mirialan took a step back to the counter where she had laid her things.

"It's from a weapon, a spear, that was created out of thin air entirely from the darkside," Ishida murmured. "Once it struck its target, me, it disappeared. I don't know... if its darkness is in the scar or not, but.." she sighed.

Her ears perked up, and the gears in her mind could practically be seen turning before she settled on a theory, "...'Spear of Midnight Black'." Amani muttered aloud, "I've heard of an ability like that before, but I've never witnessed it in person. Didn't even know it could scar like that…" She trailed off in thought. Knowledge on the topic was limited at best; Beyond the most basic understanding of what it was, she had never learned, if there was a conventional source to even learn such knowledge in the first place.

"I just need it gone. Out. Is that something you think you can do....." she paused intentionally drawing out the question so the healer could drop a name into the sentence.

"Amani. And… I don't know. But if this is what you want, then I see no reason not to try." She grabbed her datapad and returned, albeit with a bit more restraint in her approach this time. "Clearly it has some lingering connection with the dark, but what that actually means for you, I again can't say. Not without more information."

"So, Miss… Ashina," She glanced down at the patient's name on the file, then back up for her confirmation, "How long have you had this scar? Is this the first time you've tried to do something about it?"

Ishida Ashina​

 

[Ishida Ashina]

Ishida's posture loosened when Amani Serys acquiesced to at least trying to remove the scar. At least she wasn't alone in trying to remove the abhorrence.

"You should try to keep it to just hearing about it," Ishida admitted and crossed her ankles. "I probably shouldn't have survived. I got it when The Brotherhood invaded Jedha.

At first, it was just an ugly scar. I didn't need to do anything to it other than bacta patches and...." she rolled her wrist, uncertain what had been done to her while she was unconscious. Anything post-operating table, she'd just trucked on.

"But.." her expression darkened. Her mouth became small and turned upward. She looked over Amani and all her bandages, letting her eyes settle on one of the scars that poked above her collar.

"Have you ever had an injury, or anything, that makes you feel connected to another person?"

 

[Amani Serys]

"I'll take your word for it." If the scar was as much a problem for her as it seemed to be, then perhaps the experience was best left to imagination.

"Have you ever had an injury, or anything, that makes you feel connected to another person?"

Amani followed Ishida's gaze to her neckline, "…Yeah. And believe it or not, this isn't my first encounter with a dark-side-inflicted-chest-scar." She briefly tugged down the collar for a clearer view: electrical marks in an almost spiderweb-like pattern, presumably emanating from and spreading across her chest. The product of a powerful jolt of Sith lightning. "I wouldn't call it a pleasant reminder." More a lesson learned. Personal failure, at her lowest moment. Now a permanent part of her.

But it was a lesson that strengthened her resolve to help here and now.

"Alright. Let's just start with Force healing, then." Amani pulled up a stool and sat next to the patient's table. "I've got... another idea, but… it's probably safer to see if this one works first." She gave Ishida a look, and then raised her palm, "You ready?" If the OK was given, she would then begin drawing on the Force in an attempt to mend the wound, or at least lessen its effects, if possible.

Ishida Ashina​

 

[Ishida Ashina]

Sith Lightning scars were painful burns. Ishida had marks of her own that ran along her left wrist, up to the elbow. And Bernard was covered in them. They were like snowflakes in a way, similar in style and origin, but no pattern was the same. What Amani showed of hers was wild and webbed, and finite. Like the attack had been punctuated.

Ishida made a small noise of understanding at the back of her throat.

"— But you feel connected to the Sith that scarred you?"

To give Amani Serys permission, she nodded and tried to relax. Tension had wound itself tightly between her shoulders and up her spine, and it took a deep exhale to try and uncoil the grip apprehension had on her. It slowly ebbed looser and looser when Amani touched on the space that was deeply infected from the Darkshear.

For the first few breathless moments, nothing happened. Ishida tried to watch, but it was awkward to crane her neck and see what was happening.

A few moments later, the scabs she'd incurred herself — trying to cut out the scar — began to conceal themselves. Flesh knit over flesh, covering over the self-inflicted cuts as if they'd never been there.

The blackness, however, remained still. It did not tremble. It did not shift. But it did burn.

Ishida hissed in a sharp inhale through her teeth, hunching her shoulders up defensively. The darkness was responding poorly to the light's touch and permeating a response to protect itself.

 

[Amani Serys]

Amani opened her mouth to speak, but paused as she thought further on the question. The healer then shook her head, “Not anymore. But for a long time I was very… fixated on that issue.” Her word choice gave an impression of downplaying the details, touching on them without quite speaking them aloud, “That can be a dangerous line of thinking of its own, however.”

She shot Ishida another look, as if to accentuate the truth beneath her euphemisms. Moral platitudes the padawan had likely heard ad nauseum, nonetheless ones Amani felt the need to punctuate, especially to those in situations that mirrored her own past. But further musing was put on hold as the darkness refused its own banishment. Ishida’s initial reaction was enough for the mirialan to cease her efforts.

“Dammit. You okay?” She studied the woud: the mundane injuries had mended as usual, but the darkshear’s curse remained the same. “I can keep going if you want, but whatever this is, it isn’t keen on leaving without a fight.”

“Or… we can try something else. But this is your scar, your body. Only you can make that decision.”

Ishida Ashina​

 

[Ishida Ashina]

There was more in the words Amani Serys chose not to say about her scar and all that came afterward. Ishida simply nodded sagely, as though she understood completely. Whether she truly did or not was equally unspoken.

“I can keep going if you want, but whatever this is, it isn’t keen on leaving without a fight.”

She released a breath she didn't know she'd been holding. The diagnosis came as no surprise, and Ishida's exhale turned into something of a grumble. That was an unsurprising summary. She'd incurred it because she'd left a Sith to die, and they hadn't gone down without a fight. Not once, twice, or even three times later. If this Darkshear was as part of Laoth as Ishida suspected, she expected it to cling to life just as tenaciously.

"I appreciate your boundaries and respect." Ishida acknowledged and touched the edge of the blackened skin that sat above her wrapped-up torso. It was a hideous thing, the scar. She'd worsened it after turning shatterpoint on herself. But with Laoth gone, she had no need to turn her body into a weapon. And no desire to keep something so evil near to her vitality.

Ishida had already turned a knife on herself for the sake of purging the scar tissue. Whatever a doctor could offer, was surely better.

"Let's try something else."

She paused.

"You seem trustworthy."

 

[Amani Serys]

“I try,” She smiled reassuringly. From their brief interaction, it seemed like trust was something Ishida did not readily dispense, and the fact that it had to be acknowledged aloud only gave further credence to that interpretation.

So at least Amani was getting that part of doctorhood right, even if the scar continued to cling onto existence. “And I’ll do my best to keep that trust. But, for the sake of transparency I should warn you that my other idea is…untested.” She outstretched a fist, and began to channel the Force. A few moments later, heavenly rays of pure Force Light began to project out from between her closed fingers.

“This power is a bit new to me. But that scar of yours isn’t just a physical injury, it's the Dark side itself. If simple healing isn’t enough to counter the effects, then I think our only option may be to, well, purge it.” It was, after all, the key purpose of such an ability.

“I can’t promise it will work. Or even if it will be painless...” The last person she used it on had a decidedly unpleasantly reaction to the purified energy, but she was a Sith, fully corrupted by darkness. Ishida was at her core, still a servant of the Light. Amani was at least confident this wouldn’t end so… grotesquely.

“But if you still want this, then we can begin on your mark…” A lot of but's in this procedure. She rotated her hand to face the padawan, the beams of light forming a broad outline around her. Only on Ishida’s cue would she unleash the full brunt of the Force upon the Darkshear.

Ishida Ashina​

 

[Ishida Ashina]

Transparency was something Ishida was actively working on. It was a useful tool for communication, it opened up the gateway to iron out sores rather than letting things fester for a longer term. In Amani Serys ' case, it was another method to waive liability and put consequences on Ishida's decision. In a doctor's profession, this was probably a good technique. Ishida just nodded, considering the implications of what

…untested.”

might mean.

It didn't take long for Ishida to realize what Amani meant to do, was exactly what Ishida had tried to do once. And failed.

Before she'd been wounded by Laoth's Darkshear, the Light had come readily to her. Afterwards, Force Light was out of the question. She'd tried it a few times, and shamefully been denied the connection she'd had once. The well had run dry, dammed by the dark side's blockage in her chest.

Her placid expression didn't change all the while she synthesized the potential outcomes. She took Amani's vulnerability, digested it, bounced it between the walls of certainty and doubt, and ultimately decided that if she couldn't purge it herself, someone else would have to. And she'd never told Sardun of its deep effects, and now he was gone.

And, with the beautiful glow that had gathered around the Mirialan, it seemed she was the only one who could help her. It had been a while since Ishida had seen light shine so willfully that it melted her expression for half a second before it returned back to stoic indifference.

"I understand."

Her hands flexed against the edge of the bedside, and then she folded them in her lap. Preparing to brace for the burning anguish.

"Let's test it. I'm ready."

 

[Amani Serys]

"As long as we're both in agreement," With all available precautions taken, and their course of action set, Amani's ambivalence was replaced by determination. Her change in demeanor was like the flip of a switch: Now it was time for work. "Let's lay you down for this."

With her free hand, the healer reached for Ishida's shoulder, to guide her back against the reclined exam table. Instead she stopped halfway, and simply gestured toward it, given how the padawan reacted last time. "If it's too much, for whatever reason, just tell me and we'll back off."

Once everything was in place, Amani would aim her hand towards the blackened scar, and unleash a torrent of searing radiance that seemed to illuminate the room. Like a hound it sought out the dark, seeking to purge the imperfection from its source. The light was pure in its construction, but not absolute in its potency. Ultimately, Amani was still a novice in its application, and whatever results gained were less a display of skill, and more a testament to her raw power and spirit.

Hopefully, a little brute force was all they'd need.

Ishida Ashina​

 

[Ishida Ashina]

The looseness that oft’ came with reassurance slipped away into a concentrated tightness on Amani Serys i’s face. A physical shift to match the focus she was about to pursue. It was a subtle thing, but Ishida appreciated it nevertheless. Especially if this was something nascent to the healer.

Following Amani’s instructions on her own accord, and not forcibly being pushed back, was also something she appreciated, and Ishida made half a face. Her mouth pinched into something small and thoughtful before she obliged and dropped back to her elbows, gave one final look to Amani’s glowing hand, and leaned back fully.

Immediately, she hated being on her back. It was more vulnerable than coming into the room and expressing her handicap.

Overhead, the white ceiling glared down at her.

Ishida bit the inside of her cheeks preemptively and gave a tight nod to Amani to begin.

One, two, three, heartbeats of silence passed in anticipation.

Then she felt light’s burn against the darkness that carved out a pool of flesh on her chest. At first, it was like holding a candlestick that had been burning for several hours — hot, but not unbearable.

And she convinced herself that she could maintain that for the duration of the treatment.

But then the scar revolted.

The blackness opened as if the flesh itself were melting and gnashing at the brilliance that sought to burn it from existence — the pain that started at the hole in her chest soon spread. Her upper body felt like she’d stepped into the blast from a firehose. Her head bent back, her mouth cracked open, and her spine arched against herself. Her hands flexed open, her toes curled until it seemed like they had to break. The sounds of her own breath and the blood in her ears were loud. Loud enough to drown the comforting hum that usually came with the Force’s white noise, Light, that always surrounded her.

Fire flashed through her bloodstream, white-hot pain. Everything around her wound was radiating and excruciating. She felt Ashla’s breath of life, calming, fresh and powerful while immensely painful run through her in an indescribable blossom before it became something impressive, expansive, and infinitesimal all at once.

Thousands of thousands of explosions rippled through the cells below her clavicle, bursting and shattering in sequential eruptions. It was a complex pain, contained and focused but overwhelming all at once. It was so much, so, so, so much all at once that she thought it might consume her —but she did not reap the benefit of losing her consciousness

The pain did not subside, and kaleidoscopic blackness began to fill the peripheries of her vision like a vignette. Ishida didn’t sob or wail. Her grief was horribly discreet, only puffing out small, discreet grunts of discomfort here and there on the intervals of her unrhythmic exhales.

Something within, just above her lung, roiled. It was soft, feathery turning, sharp with a malignity that cut the blinding white that overtook her senses. It was more dynamic than traditional pain.

Measures of the darkness contained within her scar seemed to stretch above her, looming, angry. Furious at the ability for such radiance to be conjured in its vicinity, its horrible shape hovered like an out-of-body experience above Ishida’s stretched-out frame. Evil, wicked and shadowy, that which blocked her ability to connect to the light looked down at the Jedi on the table and laughed, rich and hateful.

Ishida wasn’t sure if it was an illusion or success she was looking at. Nor could she be right-minded enough to identify the difference. Her fingers curled in against her palms until the strain became so numb that one hand snapped up, and gripped Amani’s glowing wrist.

“I—” Ishida’s eyes were wide, and her breath was laboured, so disruptive that she barely eked out the question she meant to ask: “Is it working?”

It had to work. It hurt too much to not.

 

[Amani Serys]

It didn't exactly take a detective to see Ishida was in pain. Far greater than that; Perhaps agony or torment was more appropriate. But an order to stop was never given.

So Amani never stopped.

The Darkness seemed to take on a mind of its own, lashing out against the sacred fire that threatened to burn it away. But there was nowhere it could go, nowhere it could hide that the light could not illuminate. The Jedi would flush it out of every atom if she had the power to.

A sudden clasp over her wrist divided Amani's attention for a single moment. In that moment, the shadow's rage became much clearer. For all the pain it caused, it seemed ready to take the woman with it. But whether such a resort was even within its power was a question Amani would not allow to be answered. This was nothing more than an illness to be eradicated. A parasite, if such sentience could even be attributed to it.

She looked down at Ishida, and gently laid a palm over the hand that grabbed her, "It will." With her determination granted a second wind, Amani poured her remaining energy into a final coup de grace, until the sheer intensity of their conflux forced her to recoil. The excess light of the room faded, and their struggle ceased. The Jedi stepped forward with cautious curiosity.

Did it work?

Ishida Ashina​

 

[Ishida Ashina]

Amani Serys ' reassurance, serene and sure, barely made it above the noise pounding between Ishida's ears. Maybe Ishida hadn't even heard the two syllables, but simply understood the healer's gentle confidence and that answered enough.

Her faith in the healer didn’t dilute the pain, however. The consciousness within the unconscious union of her scar was brutal. Its raw need to survive and persevere stung and tore through her nerves, fighting every bit of light Amani poured against it. It was too big, too pure, and too painful to focus on just one part.

The brightness usurped more than just Ishida’s nerve centres. She felt cocooned in an encroaching winter of dark ice, the light spreading into a corona of burning, brilliant blue light with a white core.

She was aware of the way the light travelled through her, the way it distributed itself like a second skin inside the contours of her outline.

The light was pure and fought valiantly — focused on purging the darkness out, out, out beyond her flesh, the sinew, the curl of her gut, the nerves firing in her brain. All the bacteria on her skin, her blood, the virii in her tissues, the landscape of interwoven, complex, sprawling patterns that were shatterpoints within the unconscious bond gifted from the Darkshear. Demarcation of one thing failed, then another. The light was winning. The darkness had no time to rebuild. It was weakening, losing structure until there was only a community of molecules. The atoms that made the molecules gave up their space, and the evil was but a breath. A mist within a husk of a girl. A tiny play of fields and interactions in a vacuum, vibration and nothingness.

More and more, the light poured. Rage and dark righteousness started to feel less authentic, less pervasive.

An icy calm came over her, and through the calm bled a kind of monumental blue-green light.

Then the terrible invasiveness was gone. Ripped away.

Crumpled and raw, Ishida stared up at the ceiling’s fluorescents as delirium’s haunt burned away.

Steady breaths seemed eons away, but that didn't matter. She was conscious enough to realize she was breathing, at least. She could feel air moving through her throat, and into the complex network of soft caverns behind her ribs.

With effort, she could feel the groan of her limbs again and the anxious numbness that filled her fingers when she reached up to touch the space that had been black.

Beneath her touch, she could feel the skin was still gnarled and soft. But it felt less dense, less otherworldly.

"It...did. You did."

 

[Amani Serys]

The two pure essences of Light and Dark had waged their war; A microcosm of the wider, galactic conflict that had carried on since the beginnings of recorded history. If indeed it was so representative, then the outcome was something of a good omen: As the shadows finally submitted to righteousness, and all at once the fighting ended. Surrounding colors waxed and waned, as if the room itself needed to readjust to the now normalized brightness.

Amani gripped the edge of the table and leaned over, catching her breath. The sheer level of exertion over the Force was enough to make her fall over, but she clung to. Ishida’s confirmation was all she needed to hear. “How about that?” The healer laughed in excitement, the sound dispersed between breaths. “It’s done.”

The initial jubilation was then taken over by Amani’s more instinctual concerns, and her brow furrowed, “Are you okay? You’re not hurt, are you?” She reached out a hand, her tone almost motherly in concern for the Jedi. At this point it wasn’t even certain she had the energy to try any sort of Force healing. Not that it would stop her from making an attempt anyway, if need be.

Ishida Ashina​

 

[Ishida Ashina]

All that trust Ishida had poured into Amani Serys ’ technique almost entirely disappeared when her laughing disbelief filled the space of Ishida’s recovery.

She looked pointedly at the healer, and pushed herself up to her elbows.

The jubilance was replaced by concern, and Ishida smoothed her hand back over the skin that still permeated a low glow and surprising heat.

“I’m not hurt..” Ishida answered, swirling about the skin and scooching back to sit up. “But…” she furrowed her brows and moved her hands from her chest and flexed her fingers.

Concentration overtook her countenance, and she was silent. Amani existed in the room as much as she always had, but Ishida was intent on finishing her sentence with action.

And she hoped, against all hope, that the purge had worked. And the dark tether that had kept her so deeply entwined with Laoth was gone.

Her fingers curled in and out of her palms until they went rigid and the veins in her forearms exposed with effort.

After an eon, a small glimmer sparkled from her fingertips.

An excited breath hopped out of Ishida and she flashed a wide-eyed look to the doctor, as if she could validate witnessing the glow of Force Light from her hands. If Ishida’s sheer will was blinding her to an alternatively sad reality.

“I haven’t been able to do this since before Jedha.” She breathed out her grateful explanation.

“Thank you.”

 

[Amani Serys]

The ‘but’ made Amani nervous. It seemed like everything went right on the surface, and the thought that it perhaps hadn’t somehow had her nearly breaking into a sweat. Her eyes set intently on Ishida for some kind of follow-up, but got nothing.

That was, until, the woman brought forth a light of her own. The presence appeared to register as naturally as Amani’s own, bringing back a level of excitement that was only fed further by Ishida’s apparent excitement; About the most emotion she had gotten out of the young Jedi thus far.

“Now look at you,” She offered, almost instinctively looking for a way to pin the success on Ishida’s efforts rather than her own. Still the healer accepted her gratitude, even dipping forward in a very slight bow, “You’re welcome. I’m just glad I could help.” It was those moments of triumph that made her job all the more worthwhile.

“What’s next for you?”

Ishida Ashina ​

 

[Ishida Ashina]

After such a long time of not seeing herself produce light, she was eerily entranced with the glow of her hand. Her countenance melted further into actual jubilance, and she smiled.

Ishida never would have admitted to how much doubt had been creeping into her psyche from that loss, but the pure joy she was feeling now was admission enough.

“You’re welcome. I’m just glad I could help.”

Still, she kept her words tempered and even, despite the butterflies fluttering in her belly: "Me too."

Then, she let herself chuckle.

"I'll admit, I was a little concerned about being your first time. Thanks for the warning anyway."

“What’s next for you?”

Slowly, the mesmerization of the shape of her illuminated hand started to fade. She closed her fingers into her palm and made a fist, dousing out the light. She exhaled, releasing the built-up tension from the entire manifestation. She eased into her posture a bit more, and sat entirely upright with her legs dangling over the side of the bed again. Her hand still hummed when she transitioned back to standing. She could only take the bedridden pose for so long.

Amani's question took a while to settle into its hugeness. Four simple words, and her thoughts looped through one another. Well, my master's dead and he left me an army wasn't exactly a conversation she wanted to get into with a stranger, no matter how helpful and genuine that stranger was. There were too many unanswered ends on her part to make that conversation useful.

But at least now that she was unadulterated by darkness' stain, she'd feel a little more confident leading those devoted to light.

Her silence was verging on rude, and she hmm'd to buy herself some more time.

"That's a good question.

I wish I had a conclusive answer." Was all Ishida came up with, and slipped her arms back into her kimono-styled top. While she tied it, she kept her eyes on Amani.

"You said the triage was under control now, but I assume you have your hands more than full after Tython. Is this what you want to do, long term? Heal?"

 

[Amani Serys]

Amani chuckled back, and shrugged a bit sheepishly, “A lot better than me not warning you and then messing it up, right?”

She began tapping away at Ishida’s file on her datapad, giving the Jedi more time to think on her answer. When she couldn’t quite come up with one, Amani offered an assuring smile, “I never have a good answer for that question either,” Another chuckle, “But at least you’ve got one less thing in your way now.” Freedom could be an overwhelming concept, but she was confident Ishida would find her next path in due time.

Amani set the datapad facedown, and perked up at the mention of Tython, “There’s still a lot left to see through, but all things considered we’re making good progress, I think. For now things are steady, if nothing else. As for healing, well, it’s what I’ve always done.” The idea that she hadn’t already been healing long-term was mildly amusing to her, “I‘ve specialized as one since my padawan years. Spent the last few years outside of Jedi training as a field medic, too. Why do you ask?”

Ishida Ashina​