Burning Through the Bloodlines

[Isla Ashen]

Isla was back on Skye, back where it all began – not only her initiation into the Knights of Ren, but where she had been born and raised. Her tall form could currently be found in the darkened woods, her black cloak almost melding into the surrounding darkness. Isla’s pale complexion contrasted sharply with such shadows, as it became illuminated by the light of the moon. Her long strands of red were currently tied back and hidden from sight, save for a couple of rogue strands around her face. Green eyes pieced the darkness, watchful and alert.

Tonight, Isla was set to meet a potential new apprentice, an all important step for any new Knight. She would be meeting a Neophyte by the name of [member="Viktor DuSang"]. Isla knew next to nothing about the man, only that he was seeking knowledge and experience. However, Isla had heard that Viktor was currently acting as the personal bodyguard to the Grand Moff. It was an interesting notion, a Knight of Ren performing a task that could be accomplished even by common men. It was curious...

The red-haired woman had never fancied herself much of a teacher, but figured that she would simply go about her business as usual, just with the added responsibility of passing along what knowledge she had. Isla’s time with the Ren was not as long as many of the others, and she recognized that she still had much to learn herself – but perhaps this would be an opportunity for master and apprentice to grow together, side by side. Isla had come to Dosuun with very little experience with the force, but the fact that Viktor was already acting as a bodyguard seemed to say that he had a good foundation. There would be time to see where he had strengths, and where he had weaknesses. That’s what this meeting as all about – getting to know each other.

But Isla’s business on Skye was partly personal, and she hoped that this new apprentice would be willing to accompany her on a short journey. She had a score of her own to settle, it was an obstacle from her past that needed to be dealt with, so that she could truly give her mind, body, and soul to the Ren.

 

[Viktor DuSang]

The night air was warm. A bead of sweat rolled down his neck as he unbuttoned the top button of his silk shirt. He straightened up his black jacket, dusting off his black slacks. Had he known he'd be stumbling through the woods after dark, he'd have brought different shoes. As it stood, his loafers were more than likely ruined. A fact that put a rather sour note in the young nobleman's mouth.

Pulling a Coruscanti clove out of his jacket, he sparked it up. The sweet smoke calmed him some. Politics in his pursuit of a decent career caused him some animosity amongst the trainers of the Order of Ren. Luckily enough, the Knight [member="Isla Ashen"] didn't frown upon his choices. If anything, she seemed curious.

Yellow eyes scanned the forest, the shadows blanketed much, not giving him much visibility. But, when he closed his eyes, he felt a pull from the force. The darkness called out to him, and he followed the siren's song. The cigarette resting between his lips, he kept his eyes closed, following the beacon.

After a fair bit of walking, he opened his eyes to see the silhouette of a woman not too far in front of him. He watched her for a moment. Her pale skin reflecting the moonlight that cascaded down from the canopy above. "Lady Ashen, I presume?" His voice broke the silence. Pulling the cigarette out of his mouth, he bowed.

 

[Isla Ashen]

Isla continued to stand in the darkness, her senses reaching out into the night. It wasn’t long before she felt a presence growing closer, and soon there was the scent of smoke to announce the arrival of [member="Viktor DuSang"]. She watched as he approached, simply taking in his appearance – at least what her eyes could see in such dim surroundings. He walked with a proud gait, his body clad in fine clothing, and a presence that was dark and elegant. Isla instantly had the feeling that he was far more refined that she could ever hope to be. In her heart, she was still a simple woman, she was rough around the edges, but that is just the way she liked it.

She quirked a brow as he called her “Lady”, it was strange and formal. She had a feeling that he had greeted her that way for the sake of politeness, but it was not necessary.

“And you must be Viktor DuSang,” Isla returned his words, taking a few steps forward. “There is no need to address me as Lady; it is a title I have never held. I am now called Ashen Ren – but you may call me Isla.”

There were still some that still called her by name, even if she was said to have given it away when she became a Knight of Ren. She had been called Isla all her life, and it was odd to leave the name behind. The Knight’s posture grew taller, and she walked closer to study Viktor’s face, the moon now shining down upon him. They might as well get down to business, there was little need to waste time with small talk.

“I understand that you seek training. Tell me, what it is that you are looking for?”

 

[Viktor DuSang]

"Earl Viktor Maurow-DuSang du Coruscant. But, please, call me Viktor. Forgive my formalities. I hope I have not caused you offense." Taking her hand, he placed the smallest of kisses on her knuckle before rising. "As you wish, Isla." He put his hand over his heart, leaning forward in another bow.

He could only smile when she asked him what he sought. "I seek knowledge. I have tastes of knowledge from lessons I received as a child from my mother and other Sith. You see, most of my, and my sister's, childhood was spent in a temple on Korriban. There was a group of assassins there that taught me a few things. But, I seek more..."

Viktor, like everyone else who tasted power, sought more power. "Not just for my own personal benefit. Of course I want to become more powerful for me, but there's someone very special to me..." His thoughts drifted to [member="Natasi Fortan"] for just a moment. "I want to keep her safe." Yellow eyes closed as he took another drag off of the cigarette.

"I know that sounds ridiculous. I know she'll probably never look at me that way." He chuckled to himself, exhaling the smoke from his lips. "She's already caused me to be the target of so much animosity from within the Order." He flicked his cigarette off into the dark, yellow eyes fixating on Isla as he stood firm. "But I'd give anything for her. So I need to become stronger so I actually have something to give..."

[member="Isla Ashen"]

 

[Isla Ashen]

Isla perked a curious brow at the long winded name and title of her potential apprentice. She ignored the reflex to tear her hand away from him, but let him place a tiny kiss on the back of her knuckle. A smirk formed on her face, reflecting on the fact that her hands were likely far more worn and rough than this nobleman’s would ever be.

Her chin lifted just slightly, she listened to [member="Viktor DuSang"]’s explanation. Isla was surprised by his answer. Most wanted power, skill, and experience for themselves – it was only natural. But Viktor had declared his intention to better himself for a woman, to see her look at him with admiration, and perhaps with love. This was troubling.

“It is admirable that you wish to better yourself for another,” She started, pacing slightly. “But does this mean that you do not wish to lend your skills to the Knights of Ren? You would content yourself to learn more of our ways, but not join us in battle for the Supreme Leader?” Isla came to stand in front of Viktor once more, closer than before.

“Where does your loyalty lie?”

She let her words hang in the cold of the night air for a moment.

Isla did not neceassarily have an issue with force users that did not call themselves a Ren, but it confused her. She knew that there were a few members of government that chose to serve that way. But if Viktor wanted to call her master, he would be tested.

 

[Viktor DuSang]

Yellow eyes looked to [member="Isla Ashen"] as she responded. Her question didn't falter him. "Every aspect of the First Order falls under the Supreme Leader's vision and control. I have used my skills to assist the Order of Ren destroy a Resistance cell on Anoat. The first of many tasks that I shall assist the Order in completing. If I may, whom do you suppose granted my assignment to the Grand Moff's safety?" Security detail for high ranking officials always needed approval from the highest office within the First Order.

"My loyalties are to the Supreme Leader, as are Grand Moff Fortan's."

A slight irritation began brewing deep within him. Many members of the Order shunned him for his assignment. "This attitude of difference between branches within the First Order are asinine and backwards. We work as one for the glory of the Supreme Leader. The Moff Council is the Supreme Leaders voice. Intelligence, and the other Ministries being his eyes and ears. The Military are his muscle. And we, within the Order of Ren, are his sword and shield.

"To put ourselves apart from the cohesive unit sends nothing but discord and dishonor through the entire system. One of our many tasks set before us within the Order is the removal of traitors. We must be ever vigilant to find those that would seek to destroy us from within, so I forgive your questioning of the Grand Moff's loyalties. But in the unlikeliest event that she would turn against the Supreme Leader, then my lightdagger would pierce her heart without hesitation."

That irritation began to boil into a low burning rage. How dare his loyalties be questioned. His tenure within the First Order had been brief, but he had been exceptionally accommodating to all of the demands put on him. Every action he had taken had been for the betterment of the First Order.

 

[Isla Ashen]

A slight smile found Isla’s face, visible even in the darkness. The question she had posed had not fazed [member="Viktor DuSang"], but she noticed how quickly he became defensive. But it was an understandable reaction, especially when ones loyalties were questioned. The irritation was easily apparent; she ventured to guess that he had given these same answers before to other members of the Order. His words could easily have been seen as pandering, but then she heard exactly what she wanted to hear...

He would not hesitate to abandon his station as the Grand Moff’s guard, should she ever move against the Supreme Leader. Of course, Isla knew that feelings and emotions often made things more difficult... especially when affection was involved. Would Viktor’s feelings for this woman hold him back? Isla could not say for sure, but it would be his folly.

“Walk with me, Viktor.” She said, her voice calm and even.

Her feet were already carrying her deeper into the woods, she did not spare a glance backwards to make sure he was there. If he wanted knowledge, he would follow. Little did he know, Isla had been in the small rescue party that had brought the Moff home from her rebel captors on Hoth. She had respect for the woman.

“I will teach you, and you can carry on with your duty to the Grand Moff.” Her voice was slightly sharper than before. “But this will prove to be an interesting arrangement, for I will not always be at your side. I will trust that you will put your skills to practice, and hone them in my absence. And when you feel that you are ready, we will evaluate your progress.”

The leaves and branches cracked beneath her steps, and she turned slightly to face Viktor.

“Are you amenable to these terms? If so, join me on a personal quest tonight.”

 

[Viktor DuSang]

His answer pleased her, and the young noble eased up. She was correct in her assumptions. He had given the same speech before, but it had always fallen on deaf ears. Perhaps it was his frustration rising above his own feelings. He usually carried himself with such a cool, level demeanor. But his words became sharper each time he had to speak his loyalties on the position.

She turned her back to him, walking deeper in the woods. Her words beckoned for him to follow, and he did. Staying two steps behind her, he started caring less about the conditions of his shoes and more on the words that she had to say. Yellow eyes looked to her, a cool smile spreading across his lips.

"I'm well aware of the difficulty. I humbly accept your offer with many thanks. I won't let you down." he said with a short bow. She probably wouldn't even see it, but he would still show her proper respects. "If you would be so kind, Mistress. Could you tell me more about the task you have set before us?"

[member="Isla Ashen"]

 

[Isla Ashen]

Isla nodded, pleased that she had successfully found her first apprentice. The first of many, she suspected. But she had to start somewhere. Now, she only hoped that she would not fail [member="Viktor DuSang"]. It would certainly be a bit of a strange notion to have a student that was off wandering the galaxy alone, with his own set of duties that did not include her, but it spoke to his determination and drive to succeed – she would have to trust him.

“Tonight, I am to meet my birth father.” She said, finally addressing his question. “I shall meet him for the first time.” There were no traces of emotion in her voice, nothing that would betray any of her feelings about this moment to come. A dangerous glint was present in her emerald orbs, one that would not be quite so evident here in the darkness. “And perhaps, for the last time.” Isla added, her tone was slightly lower than before.

Isla had been brought to an orphanage shortly after her birth, and to this day had little information about her birth parents. She had been raised on a farm here on Skye, alongside several other foster brothers and sisters – but she had never considered them to be a real family. For a long time she felt like a girl that was missing something important, and there was a painful void present within for a very long time. However, over time this space had been filled with darkness, and the comfort of future revenge. Someday, she knew that she would find them. And someday, she knew that she would make things right.

“He lives in the mountains, or so I have heard tell that he does.” Isla had been traveling during her free time, investigating what she could find of her family tree. She had been ever so shocked to learn that her father still had roots on Skye... and yet, he had never once sought her out.

And soon, the two came to the foot of a tall mountain range.

“There is no path up,” She looked to Viktor, “We shall climb, whenever you are ready.”

 

[Viktor DuSang]

He stopped mid-stride when she spoke of where they were going. Her emotions went cold, but was that a taste of violence that he sensed?

And perhaps, for the last time...

Her words sent a shiver through his spine as he continued to walk behind her. Pulling out another Coruscanti clove, he sparked it up. Taking a long drag, he exhaled the sweet smoke through his nostrils. "Then I shall be whatever you need me to be in this endeavor." The wind drifted past his ear, like death's sweet whisper.

Perhaps the Reaper rode the winds tonight. Only [member="Isla Ashen"] could know for sure. The decision to take a life, especially of a family member, was a conscious decision that was never taken lightly. He had a feeling he knew how the encounter would go. She would confront her father, and his fate would be decided upon the answers he gave her. Balance help him if he gave her words that she didn't like.

Coming up to the rock wall, Viktor listened to his Master. "No need to make it easy." he said off-handedly. He took off his shoes, tossing them into the night. Pulling the pack of smokes and datapad out of his jacket, putting the items in his slack pockets. Rolling up the sleeves to his silk shirt, revealing the holsters to his lightdaggers held firmly on his forearms. Stretching out some, he stepped beside the redheaded Ren.

"I am ready, Mistress."

 

[Isla Ashen]

Isla thought perhaps that her words had unsettled [member="Viktor DuSang"], for she heard silence behind her for a moment – his footsteps coming to a halt. The flame-haired Ren looked back, aiming a glance at Viktor over her shoulder. His face was illuminated just slightly by the cigarette, and soon the scent of smoke was around them again. Isla had never taken to the ritual of smoking, but she understood the appeal. Some liked it for the look, and others for the distraction, perhaps it calmed the mind and soothed the nerves. Isla was not sure herself.

“You shall be my hunting partner, this night.” She smiled back at him.

Little did he know that Isla’s mind was made up, the decision to spill her father’s blood had been decided before she left the Citadel. And perhaps even before that. Deep down, the desire had been there for years and years. It was a darkness that had festered inside since childhood.

She watched as Viktor rearranged his belongings, and she smirked as he appeared by her side. Isla ignited a glow-rod and fixed it to her belt, and she tossed a spare to Viktor. At least they would be able to travel by a dim light, making their trek upwards just a touch treacherous... but perhaps not easier.

Of course, these two travelers were not ordinary mountain climbers. They would use the force to steady themselves, to gain strength, to power their way up. Isla took hold of the rock-face, her foot came into place and she began to climb. “Tell me more about yourself,” She said, keeping her eyes sharp and set on the task before her. “Your family has noble blood?” Isla was genuinely curious; she had not met many that could lay such claims before.

 

[Viktor DuSang]

Catching the glow-rod from [member="Isla Ashen"], he tossed the cigarette off to the side. Putting the light source on his belt, yellow eyes scanned the rock face. Finding a nice spot to begin, he placed a foot and hand in the proper grooves, beginning his climb. His mind wandered back to his childhood on Korriban, climbing up the walls of the Sith Temple. The task at hand was significantly larger in scale, but he swallowed his apprehension and pressed on.

Although he wasn't being blasted by the sandy winds of Korriban, his mother was not there to catch him if he fell.

"Both of my families are Coruscanti nobility. My mother from House Maurow and my father from House DuSang. My early childhood was spent on Coruscant. I don't remember much from those days. Something happened. Some argument that caused my parents to split up. My mother took my sister Ophelia and I to Korriban where a good portion of my childhood was spent. She tutored me to be a gentleman, a proper Lord. There was a sect of Sith Assassins that resided in the temple. They taught me a thing or two about the Force and how to defend myself."

He paused, a pass in the rock wall proving to be slightly difficult. "At 14, I came back to spend time with my father. Mother was right about him in a lot of ways... At 16, he had all but left me alone on Coruscant so he could waste his days away on Zeltros. I took over both House Maurow and DuSang, becoming the acting Earl of both houses. But when Father came back from his binge, he once more resumed Earlship of House DuSang. I still am Lord of House Maurow. Until Mother or Ophelia return to Coruscant."

Yellow eyes moved to his Master. "What about you, Mistress? If you don't mind my inquiry, of course." Violence was definitely on the air tonight. The young noble would understand if she didn't wish to speak on such personal matters. Nor would she pry if she refused to speak on them.

 

[Isla Ashen]

Isla listened to Viktor’s voice as it carried through the night air, all the while making careful movements up the mountainside. Her gloved hands reaching up, feeling along the rocky surface, and her feet carefully looking for steady places to rest. Their backgrounds were vastly different, but Isla was not ashamed of her humble roots. And she figured that [member="Viktor DuSang"] may as well know of her past, for he would come face to face with part of it tonight.

“I grew up here, on Skye.” She started, grunting slightly as she pulled herself up onto a ledge. “I was abandoned as a baby, never knew my birth parents. A family raised me on a farm, next to a number of other foster brothers and sisters.”

And that was that, a simple story for a simple woman.

“I grew up lending a hand around the farm – crops, livestock, all of the things that come with that life.”

Those were the things Isla missed about her old life. Now the two stood on somewhat level ground, the area around them opening up just slightly. She let her emerald eyes pierce the darkness ahead, and she immediately knew the way forward – she could feel it.

“As I mentioned earlier, tonight we will meet my father. My empty past has been troubling, and it must be dealt with in order to leave it behind completely. We must give up our old ways to truly become a Knight of Ren.”

There was a small cabin perched up ahead; no doubt that Viktor would see it now too. It was there that Isla's past was waiting.

 

[Viktor DuSang]

Unforgiving rock cut his hands, sliced his feet, yet the young noble continued on. He listened to his new master speak so briefly of herself, Viktor paying attention to what she had to say. Moving up the rock wall, yellow eyes stayed focused on his path. Fingers finding the next logical step before devoting himself to the path.

Finally, they reached the top of the wall. Dusting himself off, he saw that his clothes were a mess. Various tears and dirt mixed with perspiration. There was simply no salvaging the outfit. He would remember not to dress so nicely around his new master. Unless their mission at hand called for it, of course.

Cold tendrils of the force wrapped around his and [member="Isla Ashen"]'s glow-rods as they silently shut down, blanketing them in darkness. His eyes adjusted to the change in light, settling on the cabin. His pulse began to quicken, the smell of the hunt filling his nostrils. On the surface, he was the distinguished noble the public eye saw. Underneath, he was the Assassin that was brought up in the sands of Korriban.

"If I may, Mistress." he said, turning back to her. "If both coincide with the Supreme Leader's will, then why cannot we simply have both?" There were parts of him that he could never give up. There were parts of him he could never give up. He could never disgrace the memory of his family. Of his sister.

 

[Isla Ashen]

With the light of their glow rods dying, she stood still for a moment to let her eyes grow accustomed to the darkness once more. Her eyes were glaring into the woods, watching a small drift of smoke leaving the cabin’s chimney, flowing like a snake against the light of the moon. Through the force she could feel the beating of her apprentice’s heart, her own had grown swift too. She paused as he addressed her, and turned slightly to look at him, a harsh shadow cast on her pale face.

“Perhaps it is possible for some,” She shrugged, “But for others, like me, the past is but an anchor. It cannot weigh me down. I reckon we must all find our own way.”

A faint smile found her, noting the way his finery was now ripped and torn, dirty and dusty. It was now that Isla could look past his noble roots, she could see him for the man he was. Ambitious, determined, strong and sure – the makings of a fine Knight of Ren.

“Come, there is work to be done.”

Her boot lifted from the ground and she continued up the small path. The woods were not so thick here as they were down below, but the tree branches still reached for them as they made their way. Silence stretched out before them, and the cold was now beginning to touch the night air. Isla thought herself to be a fairly steady person, one that was not easily frightened or intimidated, but she was surprisingly glad to have Viktor’s company. Even if she did not say so. It was not easy to face the unknown.

The little cabin grew closer with each step, Isla held her index finger to her lips, signaling the need for silence. Her footsteps fell carefully and softly upon the forest floor, being careful not to make a sound. Soon they were at the door, Isla could hear her heart pounding in her mind, but she looked to [member="Viktor DuSang"].

“Open the door – silent like a shadow.” Isla spoke into his mind; her saber hilt was now in her hand.

Isla nodded slowly, her eyes would not leave his yellow gaze, not until the door was open.

 

[Viktor DuSang]

Bare feet made soft pats on the soil. He slinked like a feline, his movements becoming more fluid. Apprehension soon turned to excitement. He felt the heartbeat of [member="Isla Ashen"], and their pulse seemed to match rate. The hunt was on. The world shut itself off around him. This was his only focus.

Approaching the cabin, he heard her voice in his mind. He nodded, his free hand reaching out as cold tendrils of the Force reached out to the exposed hilt on his forearm. The white hilt flew to his hand in a quick twirl. He squeezed it tightly, his thumb resting on the trigger, but not activating the blade. How he longed for the sound of the snap-hiss. The sound it made when plasma cut through flesh.

He took a deep, shuttering breath as his grip loosened on the blade.

The hand closest to the door reached to the knob. His shadow crept along the door, blanketing the knob in darkness before olive fingers wrapped around it. Each turn of the knob slow and silent. Creeping along, the knob was turned into position. His arm slowly swung out, the door drifting open. He did it so very slowly. Not a sound was made.

His grip on the knob was released an increment at a time. The knob was slowly returned to it's neutral position. Not a sound was made. His gaze drifted back to her, chomping at the bit for her next order.

 

[Isla Ashen]

Isla noticed that Viktor moved with a graceful silence, his hand steady upon the door knob. Her eyes watched in the darkness as the door began to open, and the shadows of night spilled into the shelter of the cabin. She leveled her gaze with Viktor’s, nodding once more before she slipped inside. Isla’s feet were soft against the worn-wood of the floor, careful not to let them creak beneath them.

There was nothing immediately distressing about this place. It was eerily quiet, save for the steady breathing of one deep in sleep.

A small bed sat in the far corner, a sleeping form wrapped in blankets. Even from the doorway, it was apparent that it was a man slumbering there, tall and built quite large. However, in the fading light of his hearth, the two could see that his face was worn by time and deeply lined. Isla’s heart began to race.

With a tiny nod of her head, she motioned for [member="Viktor DuSang"] to enter after her, and she made her way for the man’s bedside. Isla’s shadow loomed over the old man, and she looked down as he began to stir. Though the pair of Ren had been quite silent, perhaps the presence of such dark beings was unsettling, even to those lost in dreams. Pale eyes opened, they were nothing like the emerald green of Isla’s.

“Emery?” His rough voice choked out, startled and shocked. He stared at Isla, eyes narrowing. “No, of course not. It must be Isla.”

At the mention of her name, Isla’s eyes grew wide. “How do you know?” She her voice was cold.

“You have your mother’s eyes,” he replied, and motioned for Isla to sit. It was then that he took notice of Viktor, and motioned for him to join her on the small sofa. She let her dyes drift away, looking instead to the plain plank walls, and the dust that covered nearly every surface. “We both knew this day would come, didn’t we?”

Isla did not answer, but let her gaze move back to the man.

“I could not hide forever,” He smirked, “The time has come.”

In a swift movement, one that Isla was not expecting at all, he had a blaster pistol in hand. For a moment, the barrel of the weapon was pointed in the direction of the two. But Isla saw the man’s hand slowly turning the weapon towards his own temple; he meant to leave before giving her what she wanted – the truth.

One last cruel attempt to keep it from her.

The moment seemed to stretch out before Isla, and she wanted to intervene... but was rooted to the spot.

 

[Viktor DuSang]

[member="Isla Ashen"] motioned for him to follow, and he did so. His bare feet not making sound on the wood floors. He was blanketed in shadows, on the hunt. He was home. He would not fail her.

Yellow eyes rested on the man. Perhaps he could feel their gaze upon him in his slumber. His focus was on Isla. He didn't even notice Viktor until much later. Perhaps a testament to his stealth. Perhaps a testament to the weight of the situation. It mattered not.

The hilt for the lightdagger still rested in his palm. It was small, much smaller than a lightsaber hilt. He easily concealed it in his clenched fist. A blaster pistol was produced, aimed at the pair. Viktor didn't flinch. He didn't show any emotion. He was ready to deflect the shot. His angles were already mapped out.

But, much to his surprise, the pistol changed target to the wielder. An unexpected turn of events. So death would come, but to an unsatisfying end. But then the emotions of his new master started creeping through. She didn't want it to end like this. Isla froze, and Viktor sprang into action.

Step One: Distraction.

Launching his arm forward, the unactivated hilt launched towards the man. With precision, it struck him right in the nose. Blood began to gush from his face as his free hand moved to his nose. Time seemed to slow as the blaster pistol moved down, the barrel moving in Viktor's direction.

Step Two: Action.

In two swift steps, the young noble cleared the distance between them. One leg went behind the man's knees as they moved backwards, pulling his legs out from underneath him. One hand moved to the man's wrist, the blaster pistol pointed at the ceiling. As a round was squeezed off, Viktor's free palm connected with the back of the man's elbow, shattering the joint. His cry out in pain was most satisfying.

Taking the weapon, Viktor bent down to get in his ear. "You don't get the easy way out..." he hissed, twisting the man's wrist, further separating the joint. The man cried out in agony, and Viktor stood up, taking the blaster pistol. Taking a deep breath, he stepped over the man, walking up to Isla and handing her the pistol.

He gave a bow, and slipped back into the shadows.

Step Three: Disappear.

 

[Isla Ashen]

Isla didn’t even have time to realize her folly, but had it not been for the quick actions of [member="Viktor DuSang"], all would have been lost. For a moment, she could only stand and watch the scene unfolding. She was not disturbed by the sight of red blood flowing from her father’s nose, but she let her eyes feast on the image. As the blaster began to move in Viktor’s direction, Isla felt the fury rise inside of her. Isla rose to stand, her foot inching forward, the hilt of her saber now in hand. It was a sudden and surprising sensation, the want to protect her apprentice from harm.

But Isla’s hand did not ignite the saber just yet, for Viktor seemed to have the situation well under control. A moment later, Wyatt Ashen had only a bloodied face, a shattered arm, and a brand new sense of humiliation to show for his action. Isla’s eyes shifted down and to the side as the blaster passed from Viktor’s hand to her own, and she watched out of the corner of her gaze as her apprentice stepped back.

“Speak,” Isla commanded to the slumped form of her father, the man now on the ground.

Though he sat panting on the floor of his cabin, reduced to a crumpled display of shame, he remained defiant. Wyatt’s lips parted slightly, but he spit blood onto the toe of Isla’s boot. Emerald eyes narrowed dangerously, it was a look that Wyatt had seen before, a look that Isla’s mother had also worn. The sight of his daughter had released a slew of memories – Isla saw the face of her mother, she looked just like her. Pleasant scenes were replaced by struggle; she saw hands around her mother’s neck, and a last strangled gasp.
And then nothing.

She did not know if Viktor witnessed to these images, as well. But she did not have a moment to linger on the thought. It was now apparent that Wyatt Ashen had killed Isla’s mother.

“If you will not speak, then I will find the answers myself.” Isla growled through gritted teeth.

Isla’s palm shot out towards her father, fingers formed an invisible grip – and at that same moment, Wyatt let loose a pained cry. Soon, it was as though darkness had filled the small space of the cabin. Her eye twitched, the images and memories inside her father’s mind were almost enough to break her concentration. However, she pushed further, down into the deepest recesses of the man’s mind. Though he wanted to prevent her from reaching this place, he was weak. He was not a match for such power.

Her eyes squeezed closed, and when they opened again, Wyatt’s form went limp against the wall. Isla’s hand was shaking with rage. It was then that her crimson saber sprung to life, and her father’s eyes went wide.

The sight of his daughter standing before him – it was the last his eyes would ever see.

Isla looked down at the bloody man at her feet, not even feeling the tears that streamed down her face.

“Nothing more to see,” She said, her voice weaker than before. “Let us leave this place.”