Anara Valnor
The Crimson Siren
She'd vanished, plain and simple. Her children had been given no warning nor any of those that considered her lover or friend. In the end none of them had mattered to her, frell, her own life hadn't mattered much to her anymore.
She had thought that time away from everything would ease her mind and allow her to tame the chaos of her soul. It hadn't. Coping with being 400 years out of her time and filled with countless souls she had caused to perish was apparently more than even she could handle. Death seemed to be the only way out and perhaps the last great adventure left to her.
She'd had every intention of ending her life and becoming one with the Force, but something had stayed her hand. She couldn't say what, perhaps a ghost from her past. Whatever the reason Anara instead turned to having her memory wiped clean; she'd never been given the chance to have a fresh start in this new age. Not really at least.
They say hardships make you into the man or woman you are meant to be, they shape and mold you, make you grow and force you to survive. She was tired of simply surviving, she wanted to live as she was meant to 400 years ago. The souls could be washed away and all her sins, at least as far as her memory was concerned, but the taint would remain. That she could live with, she could cope with that.
So Anara had gone through with it, all of her memories of her family, her time as a Jedi, of Moridin and her children, everything was taken from her. All that was left was the knowledge that her name was Anara Valnor and she was a Sith Lord.
~ ~ ~
It was two weeks after her procedure and Anara couldn't remember ever being so relaxed. The tension she had felt in her body upon coming to after her memory wipe had been incredible, but now not an ounce of stress seemed to plague her. Clearly she'd made the right decision to free herself of her past; it must have been truly tiresome to have left her in such a state.
Reclining in her seat she scrolled down to the next page of the article she was reading upon her datapad, a hot cup of tea within reach. Her feet were propped up on the chair across from her and one booted foot was moving to some beat only she could hear. The outside patio of the cafe was mostly deserted aside from a few people, like herself, with their noses buried deep in the datapads.
She had thought that time away from everything would ease her mind and allow her to tame the chaos of her soul. It hadn't. Coping with being 400 years out of her time and filled with countless souls she had caused to perish was apparently more than even she could handle. Death seemed to be the only way out and perhaps the last great adventure left to her.
She'd had every intention of ending her life and becoming one with the Force, but something had stayed her hand. She couldn't say what, perhaps a ghost from her past. Whatever the reason Anara instead turned to having her memory wiped clean; she'd never been given the chance to have a fresh start in this new age. Not really at least.
They say hardships make you into the man or woman you are meant to be, they shape and mold you, make you grow and force you to survive. She was tired of simply surviving, she wanted to live as she was meant to 400 years ago. The souls could be washed away and all her sins, at least as far as her memory was concerned, but the taint would remain. That she could live with, she could cope with that.
So Anara had gone through with it, all of her memories of her family, her time as a Jedi, of Moridin and her children, everything was taken from her. All that was left was the knowledge that her name was Anara Valnor and she was a Sith Lord.
~ ~ ~
It was two weeks after her procedure and Anara couldn't remember ever being so relaxed. The tension she had felt in her body upon coming to after her memory wipe had been incredible, but now not an ounce of stress seemed to plague her. Clearly she'd made the right decision to free herself of her past; it must have been truly tiresome to have left her in such a state.
Reclining in her seat she scrolled down to the next page of the article she was reading upon her datapad, a hot cup of tea within reach. Her feet were propped up on the chair across from her and one booted foot was moving to some beat only she could hear. The outside patio of the cafe was mostly deserted aside from a few people, like herself, with their noses buried deep in the datapads.