Private Fracture

[Ryv]

"Why does everything hurt?"

Flashing lights of iridescent white, joined by a piercing red cut through comfortable darkness. Every so often, a glimpse of some shape came into view. At first, nothing more than an amorphous blob hovered overhead. Distant sounds fell downward, raining around a broken consciousness as it struggled to maintain a weak grip on life. That first shape soon welcomed another. More ambient noise joined the muffled whispers, those strange sounds slowly taking form all their own. Words uttered by both these silhouettes begged and pleaded, promising things were going to be okay, that the pain wouldn't last forever. Darkness crept in from all sides, flooding what sensation remained. Both shapes fell away in full, the white noise that momentarily droned on in the background faded, replaced by a lapse in all but the void.

"Just let me sleep."

A chill fell over the area as a heavy wind picked up from below, blowing about a coarse leather jacket. He felt himself falling, an empty world stretching out on all sides. Questions surfaced within his mind, though his lips failed to shape them. Instead, a splitting pain formed within his head. It spread outward, like fissures across shattering glass. He could feel thin cracks spreading from his temple down the length of rounded bone one would call their skull. It moved further, inching along his spine, stretching across arms and legs alike. Every inch of him screamed out in pain, his body alive with a screeching agony that overwhelmed even the endless sea of nothingness. Unable to even beg for help, he resigned himself to muffled sobs. Tears ran down dirty cheeks, cutting a path through the built-up blood and dust coating his flesh.

"Fine! Just let me die!"

His eyes closed, the void now forgotten as suffering took root, drowning the restless mind as it welcomed the inevitable.

"No!"

Warmth erupted in the center of his chest, a vibrant golden light pooling within. His eyes shot open, drawn to the soothing sensation. Two pairs of hands pressed down, each the source of this growing brilliance as it bathed him in a familiar presence. Slowly, it inched outward, the radiant glow now all-encompassing as it seeped inward, sinking into flesh and bone alike. Millions of small imperfections within his body glowed with the same golden energy. The pain disappeared, replaced with a sense of peace, one that saw the fractured mind slip away into a restful slumber.

Ryv watched a giggling group of children as they danced across a verdant courtyard. Their instructor appeared intent on discussing the various types of flora that lined the walls, seemingly unphased by the lack of attention paid by the young ones.

The aged Jedi Master moved between a variety of bushels, speaking each one's name with fluidity. Hundreds of the flowers peeked out from healthy bushes of deep green, their vibrant colors warm and welcoming. Their scent filled the courtyard, filling the isolated space with smells like silken honey and roasted nuts. Small insects buzzed about, fluttering from one flower to the other, while small, four-legged animals scurried about in the underbrush. One red-furred creature stuck a little head out, guided by its nose as it followed this rogue scent from its place of safety. Dropping low, it stalked forward, remaining in tall patches of grass while it carefully maneuvered across the yard.

Following the creature's path, Ryv found his attention settle on a low-hanging vine boasting a dozen small, red fruits. Unable to blame the little bogling for its taste, he returned his attention to the instructor as she continued her speech. As she moved from a speckled, blue weed to a lavender vine, an overjoyed screech pierced the peaceful air. Ryv's eyes shot to one of the younglings, this one a human girl who seemingly noticed the bogling for the first time. She scurried forward, chasing it as if she wanted to pick it up and take it home with her. Other children joined in the endeavor, each of them racing to catch the now panicked creature. All the while, the class's overseer struggled to regain control of the frantic children, their excitement crashing off of one another in discordant waves.

"Yeesh," Ryv groaned. He moved towards the berries the fox initially sought, picking a handful before turning back to the scene. He marched across the courtyard to where the younglings managed to corner it. The Jedi Knight cleared his throat. "Move aside, kids, this is official Jedi business," he stepped through the group, careful of their fragile frames.

"That's not fair!" one shouted.

"Yeah!" a girl's voice cut in. "He's mine!" she pointed at the creature, then herself. "I saw him first."

Ryv perked a brow. "Listen, kid, how bout this," he stepped beside her and knelt down. "Why don't we let the little guy decide, huh? If he wanders on over to you, you can take him home, dress him up, whatever it is little kids do. But if he comes to me, you and your friends gotta leave him alone," he smiled. "That sound like a good deal to you?"

"Hmm," the girl mused, tapping her chin as she thought. "Deal!" she giggled excitedly, immediately turning on her heel to face the bogling. "Come here, little guy, come on," her lips spread in a broad smile, crooked teeth meeting the beast's terrified gaze.

It inched backward, looking between both the child and Ryv.

Ryv flashed a smile of his own, opening his gloved hand to reveal the mound of juicy, red berries. The bogling's eyes widened, and it raced forward, immediately beginning to devour the treat it initially sought.

"Looks like I win, kiddo," Ryv announced, his gaze never leaving the bogling.

"No fair, no fair! I didn't get any treats to give him!"

"Yeah, well," Ryv began, scooping up the fox in a one-handed grip. "Not every challenge you face will be a fair one. It's important you learn to adapt. It's even more important you learn how to change the conditions of the test," he winked at the small band of misfits and turned, moving across the clearing towards the fruit-vine. He met the instructor's eyes, offering an apologetic nod. "Sorry for interrupting your class, master."

"Do not be sorry," the elderly woman remarked. "I believe you've imparted wisdom onto them that even my flowers could not."

Ryv shook his head. "Don't count your flowers out yet," he muttered, motioning to the now quiet group. Many of the children broke about into small groups, searching for creatures like the one curled up against the Jedi's chest. Another cry echoed across the yard, this one pained and distraught. "Plenty for them to learn, like not to pick blindly at roses."

The duo chuckled as they broke apart, Ryv stopping at the courtyard wall while the instructor shuffled over to the children. He set the bogling down and patted its head.

"You be good, alright? Maybe wait for a nighttime snack next time," Ryv pushed himself to his feet and turned, adjusting the bag hanging over his shoulder. Before he could set off down one of the corridors leading to the yard, he felt a weak tug on his sleeve. He looked down, perplexed at the sight of one of the children latched onto his.

"Hey mister, what happened to your arm?" the child, a Pantoran boy no older than ten, pointed at Ryv's left sleeve. Or, more specifically, the empty space where his wrist and hand should've been.

Elise ​

 

[Elise]

Time felt like sand falling through her fingers. Down and down Elise had fallen through the fevered state of her comma, the screams of the dead flying by her like air though a window. That sensation had not left her since had awoke.

She was Grand Master now. An emergency election held by the assembly in the throws of her ailment had made it so. How do you look at the people needing you and say no?

How do you take at the fractured pieces of a civilization and make it right again?

Elise did not have the answers to the next steps the Order and Concordia should take, though everyone had opinions. Every move felt like a risk, and the stress of choosing wrong and causing harm followed her into every situation. She took it one day at a time. Today, she was in Commenor, meeting with the countless officials, architects, and masters that came to the developing temple. It was not open for full release yet, but it was getting there.

At the first break from her meetings, Elise took to the gardens. She hadn't had time to take up her favored hobby of gardening since her appointment. Truth was, there would now never be the time. It was up to her to start making it for herself. That was a lesson she had not yet learned, but it did not stop her from escaping into the grounds to breath in a bit of fresh air. Out here, no one had demands for her. Ideally.

The chatter of Silver Rest padawans on field trip filled the peaceful space, the sight of two running circles around a tired instructor causing her lips to twitch.

"Hey mister, what happened to your arm?" the child, a Pantoran boy no older than ten, pointed at Ryv's left sleeve. Or, more specifically, the empty space where his wrist and hand should've been.

Elise glanced through the bushes, her eyes widening in subtle shock as she saw the origin of the question... and the person it was leveled to. Well there's a turn you don't expect when strolling through nature.

"Avoe," she breathed, stepping over the hedge and breaking through to the other path. She reached out, grasping the familiar youngling's shoulders and pulling him closer to her.

"Mind your curiosity, that is not a question for strangers." But the man before her was no stranger. In the chaos of Yurb, the last memory she had was holding back Tarathra's axe to give Ryv a fighting chance. She had been struck down right after. The reminder gained a subtle wince, one she hid by squeezing the boy's shoulders.

"But I was just-"

"Going back to Master Bera's lesson, hm?" She couldn't help the slight smile as the youngling flushed, shoulders dropping in defeat. "Right. Off you go. Enjoy your tour."

He glanced back, shooting Ryv a forlorn glance before allowing himself to fall victim to Elise's nudges. Elise let out a long breath, the bags under her eyes pronounced as she turned to face the visitor head on. "Jedi Ryv," was all she could get out, her shoulders slowly coiling to tighten by her ears.

They had yet to have a positive encounter. Elise found herself growing wary before he could speak any peace.

"Has something brought you here today?"

 

[Ryv]

"Er," Ryv paused, uncertainty evident. How does one explain the effects of war on a child? How could he look a kid in the eye and tell them he lost everything for nothing? Much like former battles fought, the brief confrontation in the middle of a garden on Kashyyyk had no easy answers. Fortunately, the Jedi Knight didn't have to answer. As he opened his mouth to speak, while his mind frantically searched for answers, a soft voice, as comforting as a bed of one hundred and one orchids, cut through his confusion. She took the boy's attention, her firm, but insightful grip guiding the blue-skinned alien away from the frozen Kiffar.

Elise, Grandmaster of the Silver Jedi, stood maybe a few feet from Ryv. She peered up into his frazzled amber gaze, frustration at the forefront of her thoughts.

He gulped, already reconsidering his decision to come to Kashyyyk of all places. He looked back to another hall, this one promised a swift departure via only a short walk to Silver Rest's outdoor hangar where his X-Wing waited. He subconsciously fingered the fighter charm hanging from his bag's strap, handpainted to resemble the ship that carried him through a dozen battlefields, over a dozen planets. Why did only the briefest of encounters with a woman he once considered useless put him off balance?

Dragging his attention from the hall to the sky, Ryv watched as a cloud slowly drifted overhead. If he looked at it hard enough, he might've gleamed some greater meaning into the fluff of powdery white. Instead, he saw the puffball for what it was, formless, meaningless, there due to the rise of moist, warm air, expanding with each second, following only the wind as its guide.

"Hmm," Ryv hummed. "Crazy," he muttered, perhaps in response to whatever it is he saw above him, maybe due to some other thought passing through his fractured psyche. "Likely not a fan of seeing me here, huh?" he finally leveled his gaze on the Jedi Master before him. "Can't blame you. Hell, last time I passed through, I demanded your attention from a night meant to help destress all the kids skipping through these halls," his voice maintained an evenness to it that definitely didn't belong there. Anyone used to being anywhere near the Kiffar knew him for a level of emotion typically considered dangerous for a Jedi. They often manifested in his day-to-day, with unforeseen consequences not far behind them.

"I was thinking about you, Elise," Ryv began once again, carefully stepping around the woman to kneel before a patchwork display of fruits and flowers. "Probably not something you wanna hear from a twenty-one-year-old kid in the middle of a Jedi Temple, but you know how it is," he rested on one leg, his chin idly placed atop his other knee. "I want to say the Force brought me here. Wanted me to find my way to this world, to this temple, to whatever Jedi I could find. Not many masters left in the galaxy, you know?" he looked up at her, a bit of his hair falling to the side, revealing an angry red scar across his temple, a telltale sign of a once-fractured skull. "I guess I thought of all places to find someone to help me, might as well start here. Your order is pretty good at this whole, domestic dilemma stuff."

He studied her involuntarily, his battlefield training not leaving him, even in the middle of what should be a peaceful garden. His gaze wandered down her form, then back up, shamelessly admiring the smaller Jedi Master's physique. Lean muscle decorated her body, allowing the slender human more than enough to support the dangerous lifestyle of a Jedi. His eyes dropped to her legs again, and he furrowed his brow, snapping them closed immediately.

Don't look at her legs, Ryv chided himself. You're here to ask for her help, not gawk at her like a deprived thirteen-year-old locked in his room.

"Yeah, so uh," Ryv picked back up, his eyes now open. "Er, I need help, mostly. Which is probably rich coming from me. Not sure where else to go," he looked away, focusing on the flowers. It pained him to ask for help, his pride demanded so much more of him, yet he knew he couldn't do it alone. Not anymore. Not after Allyson.

"There really isn't anywhere else, I guess."

Elise ​

 

[Elise]

Elise regarded Ryv, the tension between them like a pain of glass-- One rock thrown and surely everything would shatter. Yes, she had walls, and plenty of them now. Her once soft gaze was hard as she listened to him, her ears alert for the twist of words. In all of their encounters, his words had been filled with assumed righteousness and hostility. She didn't understand the need to scoff or cut others down.

She didn't know why had treated her the way he had.

Cedric had spoken on it, and no doubt the Master's words would have once breed empathy inside the new Grand Master of Silver Rest.

Now she was too tired, too stressed, and too weighed down by the opinions that actually mattered to give the hostile boy a second thought. She was ready to politely dismiss him, but as she stood there poised and tense, he said something that surprised her.

I was thinking of you, Elise.

And by the time the last of his words on in the air, a sense of softness had reentered her gaze. His pain resonated through the space between them, nearly driving her to reach out and lay a comforting hand on his shoulders. Nearly. Damn her and her bleeding heart. There a was a part of her, a jaded side born from the boon of Yurb, that wanted her to walk away. The world was simply cruel and she only had so much of herself to give out. He wasn't hers.

Guilt flashed beneath her gaze the moment the thought came to be, the master looking pale as she swayed in place.

With a soft sigh, she turned from him, her shoulders slumping as she gestured for him to come join her at a nearby bench.

"We fought besides each other at Yurb." Her brows pinched, the woman realizing for the first time that someone had to protect her fallen body from harm that day.

She had had his back.

She tried to believe he had had hers.

"You are welcome in these halls. All friends are." The word felt odd on her tongue, the woman vividly remembering how she accused him of making the task impossible. A gentle inner voice reminded her not to do the same.

She eyed him, choosing to put a bit of faith behind the vulnerability he showed as she extended her hand. "Are you still in pain?" A warm glow already began to build around her palms, the woman clearly a healer.

At least she possessed the tact not to immediately demand answers like little Avoe. What happened to your hand? Why are you estranged? Why does your aura weep pain.