Private From Caves to Forests

[Seren Gwyn]

Seren watched his reaction with a quiet, observant amusement that seemed to radiate from her like a soft hum, the faintest ghost of a smile lingering on her lips as she watched him scratch the back of his head in that disarmingly honest gesture. The mental image he painted of him attempting to wield a blade of such impractical, oversized proportions drew a soft, almost musical breath of laughter from her, a sound that felt out of place yet perfectly right within the heavy, ancient silence of the sub-temple.

"I imagine you would find a way to make even the most absurd weapon look entirely practical through sheer force of will," she teased, her voice dropping into a gentle, velvet register. "Though I suspect the rest of the galaxy might question your sanity, I find there is a certain… charm in refusing to be bound by the expectations of the mundane."

When the conversation turned toward her own craft, the air around her seemed to settle into a more thoughtful, contemplative weight. There was a brief, pregnant pause as she considered how much of her soul to reveal, her expression softening rather than guarding itself. She leaned back into the shadows of her seat, her posture radiating a comfortable, feline grace that seemed to invite him to look closer.

"Memorable?" she echoed, the word tasting of silver and smoke as it left her lips.

Her fingers began to trace the edge of the table, not in a restless fidget, but with the slow, deliberate care of an artist recalling the curves of a masterpiece.

"I have birthed a blade that hums a low, anxious warning when danger nears, though it possesses a temperament of its own and rarely agrees with its wielder on what truly constitutes a threat," she began, a spark of dry humor lighting her amber eyes. "And I have forged a pendant designed to steady the fractured mind. A quiet anchor for those who find themselves drowning in the tide of their own intrusive thoughts."

Her gaze lifted back to his, and the warmth there was no longer just professional; it was personal, flickering with an unmistakable heat.

"I once crafted a ring that sharpens the instinct to a razor's edge. It doesn't transform the wearer into something they aren't, but it grants them the clarity to finally trust the truths they already feel deep within their marrow."

She tilted her head, her dark hair catching the dim light as she studied the planes of his face with a gaze that felt like a physical touch.

"Most of what I create is not intended to replace a person's skill or overshadow their spirit," she continued, her voice dipping lower, more intimate. "I prefer only to…refine the edges. To strengthen the beautiful things that are already there, waiting to be seen."

The smile that returned to her face was softer now, carrying a weight of genuine affection that she didn't bother to shroud.

"I have always found that people are far more captivating when they remain authentically themselves, rather than being eclipsed by something artificial."

Her fingers stilled against the stone, and she leaned forward, invading the small space between them just enough to make the air crackle. The playful mischief in her eyes was now underscored by a heavy, magnetic pull.

"Though I must admit, the prospect of helping you refine your particular…talents…is a temptation I find difficult to resist," she purred, her eyes locking onto his with a predatory sweetness. "A warrior of your raw, unbridled power learning the delicate arts of restraint, precision… perhaps even a touch of my subtlety."

She let the implication of those lessons hang in the silence, her shadows curling suggestively toward his own at the edge of the light.

"And if such a pursuit happens to grant us more nights like this, just lost in conversation while the rest of the world fades away. I would consider that a far more worthwhile endeavor than any artifact I could ever forge."

Kallous

 

[Kallous]

He chuckled at her reassurances that he could, through sheer stubbornness, make even the most absurd ideas seem viable. "I doubt it. If I were to do something like that it would be more for the purposes of testing limits as opposed to practically using whatever I produce. I'm not so dour as I might appear to strangers, but I'm hardly insane enough to try using a weapon of such size. Though I suppose weilding something so oversized as a form of training wouldn't necessarily be a bad idea..."

He trailed off at the last sentence as if considering the possibility. Utilizing a weapon of such size and weight as that in a fight was obviously impractical, however using that same weapon for strength training and conditioning wasn't immediately impractical, it would certainly result in a great deal of upper body strength if done regularly. It was an idea that he pondered for a moment or two before pushing it to the back of his mind for later consideration.

She described a few items that she'd produced, all of which sounded incredible to him. The sword that hummed in the presence of danger seemed like a crutch to him, but one that would bear a lot of weight, especially if one's attunement to the force was weak. The Pendant she mentioned crafting, meant to calm one's mind and blot out all disquieting things from it sounded particularly good, one useful to just about anyone who used it. And her philosophy of refinement over replacement was one he definitely agreed with.

This was definitely a craft he was interested in learning. He doubted he would master it like she seemed to, but knowledge was knowledge and the crafting of artifacts like that required a deep understanding and attunement that few possessed. In a sense, it would force him to be better than he was. And that was a prospect he very much liked.

"You would create a monster." He joked lightheartedly. He didn't really think precision or restraint were things he was altogether lacking, though he also couldn't say he couldn't use a little more of both.

Her finishing comment was returned with a smile from Kallous who, while wholly sincere, seemed entirley oblivious to any subtext that may be present. "I can't but agree. Conversing with you has been a breath of fresh air desperately needed. And... if learning from you means we can talk like this more, I'd love nothing more."

Seren Gwyn

 

[Seren Gwyn]

Seren regarded him for a moment, her expression composed as always, though there was a subtle shift in her eyes that softened the usual distance she kept.

A faint, almost amused breath left her.

"A monster?" she echoed lightly, the corner of her lips lifting just enough to suggest she found the idea more entertaining than concerning. "I think that would depend entirely on what you choose to do with what you learn."

Her gaze lingered on him a moment longer, thoughtful rather than guarded.

"Refinement does not create something new," she continued, her tone calm but warmer now, "it reveals what is already there… only with more clarity."

There was no accusation in it, no weight beyond the words themselves, but the implication was left to rest between them.

At his next words, that shift became more noticeable. Not dramatic, but present. The kind of change that came not from surprise, but from quiet acknowledgment.

"Then perhaps I should be more careful," she said, a touch softer now, the faintest trace of dry humor threading through her voice. "If conversation alone is enough to persuade you."

A brief pause followed, though she did not look away this time.

"Though I will admit," she added, her tone easing further, "I find the prospect…agreeable."

Her head tilted slightly, studying him with that same quiet attentiveness, though now it carried something just a shade more open than before.

"If you are serious about learning," she continued, "then I would not object to continuing either the instruction… or the conversation."

The faintest pause.

"Both have their merits."

Kallous

 

[Kallous]

"I will leave it to your preference." He told her with a shrug. "As much as I would love to learn your trade, I'd hate to ask too much of you. You've already given me a meal and a place to stay for a short while. I'd hate to impose any more before actually figuring out my next steps, or at the very least getting my feet back under me.”

He sighed softly, a sound of contemplation as his thoughts turned to the actual problem at hand. Where could he realistically go? He didn’t have many allies left. He could go back and work with the Lilaste Order, Laphisto had worked closely with Rellik in the past and was stepping up to make sure that the Diarchy’s collapse didn’t do too much damage to the general populace. But… truth be told he didn’t want to return to military life.

He didn’t regret being a soldier, he had many memories from his career that he would cherish, and many lessons learned that he carried with him even today. And one of lessons was that it was a lonely life, one that didn’t leave much room for anything else. And he found that he wanted more out of life than conflict.

It was an option, but not an attractive one.

But what else was there? He doubted that Seren’s offer to teach him her trade would lead into a proper profession, at least not in time. He’d have to get his new life started before he started learning, and then he’d probably treat the making of force-touched trinkets more as a hobby than a career.

He supposed he could try his hand at being a teacher. He’d instructed and lectured every now and then on Bastion, helping the younger members of the Brotherhood on their journeys. He figured he could teach relatively well. Though he had no history of it that would allow that.

Police work? Maybe. His mind went through a long list of possibilities, and quick estimates on how viable they actually were. It was actually quite bleak. Most of what he logically could do was either unstable or illegal. Not good.

“I suppose the more important question is this. Do you know where someone like me might find work?” He asked, his previously lighthearted tone now serious. “I don’t have much history beyond serving in the Diarchy’s Brotherhood, and I doubt that will carry much weight on this side of the galaxy.”

Seren Gwyn

 

[Seren Gwyn]

Seren listened quietly while he spoke, her expression softening further as the uncertainty beneath his words gradually revealed itself. It was not merely a question of employment or survival, but rather the deeper fear that came after losing the structure around which a person had built their identity, the uncomfortable realization that, once the conflict ended, there still had to be a life waiting beyond it.

When he finally asked where someone like him could even find work, Seren remained silent for a few moments before answering. Rather than responding immediately with solutions, she leaned back against the stone wall of the cave, her glowing amber eyes drifting thoughtfully across the dim interior around them.

"I grew up on Alderaan," she said softly at last. "A low noble house. We were respectable enough to matter locally, but insignificant enough that nobody outside our region cared very much."

There was no bitterness in the admission, only simple honesty. "Then I joined the Jedi, and you already know how the rest of that story ended." A faint breath escaped her, somewhere between amusement and reflection. "When I left them, I had very little."

Her hand lifted then, motioning lightly around the cave itself—the carefully arranged workspace, the shelves lined with unfinished pieces, and the subtle warmth and life she had managed to carve out of isolation and stone. "Now I have this," she said, a quiet, earned pride in her words.

Her gaze returned to him afterward, steady and thoughtful. "Starting over is rarely graceful. Most people imagine reinvention as something dramatic or inspiring, but in reality, it is usually small decisions repeated consistently until one day you realize you have built a life again."

The firelight caught softly against her features as she studied him for a moment longer. "And for what it is worth, I think you are undervaluing yourself. You know discipline, survival, leadership, combat, logistics, and how to teach others; most people spend their entire lives failing to master even one of those things."

A faint trace of warmth returned to her expression then, the dry humor softening the moment's seriousness. "Besides, I sincerely doubt your only marketable skill is intimidating people while carrying oversized weapons. You do not need to decide your entire future immediately; you only need enough stability to take the next step."

Her eyes flicked once more around the cave before returning to him with a final, reassuring look. "And I am fairly certain we can figure out something for you to do before you starve to death in the streets."

Kallous