Private Gnosis: On the Naming of Things

[Cadre]

The night-chilled pool teemed with life. Tiny sprites of the dallengon danced upon the subtle waves. The little partially sentient beings emitted that same subtle blue glow of all things connected with their world. They parted calmly as he moved slowly through the water. There was no protest from the dallengon, nor the frain-eels or the piscis that swam beneath the surface. He was one with Ayvara, and all they that joined with the world accepted his movement.

His time of visions was near its end. Ardryll — a name he had almost forgotten — had spoken to no one for over twenty years, seeking only the oneness with Ayvara that had for so long elluded him. Soon he would return to his people. His shame would diminish. His light was one with the world.

The journey was long, but the peace he held was so fully realised that each step felt as easy as a blink of the eye. He returned to his people not to take from them as he had done in his childhood, as all children of Ayvara did, but to give and to grow alongside those that were one with their world.

Something was different though. It had shifted on the day he connected with Ayvara. The green skies were gone. Replaced with pitch black, and small pinpricks of light that appeared as eyes watching his every movement. Ayvara had not shifted in its presence, comforting him that these eyes of light had perhaps always been there. But they were still unsettling. Still...unnatural to him.

He paused. As did sprites, eels and fish, all floating with the flow of water that now moved around his knees. And then slowly, the other aspects of Ayvara — that had made for such liveliness — retreated. His heart rate remained calm, forcefully so. He was defender of this delicate balance, and something else had disrupted the flow.

A yellow, un-Ayvaran glow could be seen around the bend in the stream, only a few hundred paces from his place in the shallow side of the pool of water. It had appeared, as if a fire had been lit, but with no wavering of the flames.

He lowered himself into the water, crawling over rocks, and through mud, until he reached the bend in the stream. His eyes peered over a small, grassy lip beside the stream, and he saw something completely...alien.

Right angles. Harsh grey tones usually reserved for rocks. An open door with a yellow, steady light streaming from it. It was a box. A person sized...box. Certainly not something of Ayvara.

His final test had come, surely. The chance to ascend to beyond mere connection with Ayvara. Had she chosen him as her voice? He had heard whispers of things like this in his youth. Oddities. Ayvara producing things so unreal as not to be believed.

But there it was. The cube-like grey box with a heart of fire. And...movement...

Ardryll ducked, just for a moment the flow departing, and his heart rate spiking. A creature lived in the flames.

Truly, a test indeed.

WELCOME TO AYVARA
Briana Sal-Soren​

 

[Briana Sal-Soren]

She’d taken every precaution when she’d first landed at the makeshift outpost earlier in the day, her ship tucked back into a shallow rise where she thought the thick-rooted growth and stone might help to break up its silhouette. She'd even gone the extra mile to cover the Vere in a specialized netting that typically worked in layers. The first was a thin metallic mesh meant to blur its electronic signature and scatter sensor returns, followed by a secondary camouflage net that went over the previous one, to hide the ship from view.

The first layer seemed unnecessary, given where she found herself, and was left forgotten.

Whatever brought the planet into the High Republic’s space during the Planeshift anomaly, the reports were clear that advanced technology and civilization hadn’t been brought with it. There were no historical records to be found in the archives, and nothing on the star maps that matched its description. At least not from the last nine hundred years or so. Even when she'd first approached the planet from atmosphere, the Force around it felt, well... different. Almost as if it existed in its own contained bubble, some place far outside the rest of the Galaxy and time. If anything intelligent did live here, they certainly wouldn’t have detected her ship with scanners or arrays. And so, she’d settled for the outer net alone, then set out on foot at first light, returning only once the stars blinked into existence.

Despite being utterly captivated by all she'd seen and discovered, the day had worn on her more than she’d expected. Her footfalls were heavy as she stepped over a low tangle of roots, feeling her boots sink into the moss-softened earth. She was used to being on her feet for long hours during missions, and in most cases, in much harsher conditions than these. Still, she could feel the tightness in her legs as she pried her boots free from the squelching mud, deciding then to look for more solid ground for the remainder of the trek.

At least the view had been something of a distraction from the exhaustion pulling at her bones.

All around stretched a panorama of colors, the likes of which she’d never seen; not in all her travels through the galaxy. In the light of the afternoon, the world had been filled with rich cinnamons and marigolds, deep burgundies and umbers, violets and beryls. Verdant greens. But at night, it was like a new world awoke to reveal itself from beneath the one that’d already existed.

The glow of bioluminescence bloomed around her. Not only in the trees and foliage, but noticeable in the fruits they bore and the creatures that hid beneath them.

Looking down, Briana pulled out her datapad to glance over her report for what she hoped would be the last time that night. Her notes were long and detailed, meticulous in their accounting for over seventy distinct lifeforms she’d never encountered before.

The sound of rustling made her pause, looking up in time to spot a large, turquoise amphibian scurry past her boots, flapping awkwardly across her path with webbed feet. She surmised by its sudden panic that she'd unintentionally interrupted its meal, watching as it hurried to swallow whatever fibrous fungus it carried with its broad mouth, before disappearing into the undergrowth.

Briana’s brows rose and a smile ticked up on one side of her face, fingers already tapping against the datapad.

Seventy-one.

Finally coming to the edge of the outpost, Briana drew her cloak tightly around herself and watched as the cool breeze that swept in stirred the luminous growth at her feet, bending the light and shifting it as she passed. A soft breath of amusement fluttered past her lips and her thoughts turned to Vizion. How would she ever adequately explain the beauty of this place to him, in words alone?

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Once she’d finished her routine inspections, making sure the area was clear of any unfriendlies before settling in, Briana allowed herself a moment to relax. She’d been looking forward to the prospect of finally eating a real meal, taking a hot shower, and ending the day by sinking into the comfort of her own bed. But, she should have known better than to let her guard down. Something always went wrong when she did.

She’d already been dressed in her night clothes when she felt a tingle at the back of her neck, a warning that an unknown presence was approaching, without much more feedback than that. For half a parsec, Briana debated if she cared enough to investigate, or wanted to take her chances with lady luck and follow through with the more alluring plan of hitting her pillow for the night.

A few moments later, the faint sound of tired grumbling and under the breath cursing filled the room, protesting herself into a fresh set of clothes and grabbing her lightsaber from the nightstand, just incase.

The cool night air washed over her as she stepped outside once more, squinting into the darkness. From a sweeping glance, there was nothing that immediately jumped out at her, nor sent off the danger bells, but when stretching out her senses, she could tell that… yes, something was certainly there.

“You can stop hiding,” Briana said calmly, “I know you’re there.” There was no way of knowing if what she was addressing was sentient, or if it could understand her even if it was, but she wasn’t about to go blundering into the dark to find out, either.

TAG: Cadre | FYI: Vizion Trozky

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[Cadre]

He did not understand the sounds she made.

They were sharp, and clipped. Language, certainly. But not one of Ayvara, nor any tongue he had ever learned in his youth. Still, the meaning beneath it was unmistakable. She was prepared to defend herself.

The flow of Ayvara tightened around him. His awareness stretched through the senses of the planet and its ecosystem. He felt it in the water at his knees, in the moss clinging to stone, and in the faint retreat of life along the stream’s edge. This one was prepared to strike, if she were pressed. Warrior's recognised one another no matter the culture.

Slowly, but very deliberately, he rose.

Water slipped from his skin in quiet rivulets as he came to stand, tall and unhurried, emerging from the shadowed bend in the stream. The pale lines of his body caught the living glow of Ayvara, the soft blue light blooming behind him as his markings awakened in answer. The jungle did not brighten accidentally. Rather, it aligned with his intent.

Behind him, the forest illuminated. Bioluminescent leaves flared gently to life. The dallengon returned, drifting in careful arcs. The stream shimmered, stones outlined in blue fire, as though the world itself had drawn breath and chosen a side.

In front of him, where she stood, the light dimmed.

The glow along the ground at her feet softened, then faded. The air grew still. Insects fell silent. The jungle did not advance. It did not threaten. It simply withdrew its warmth, and welcome, leaving only shadow and quiet where she stood.

He did not raise a weapon. He did not move toward her.

He stood calm and unyielding, shoulders squared, gaze steady, the living world arrayed behind him like a held breath.

A boundary had been drawn.

WELCOME TO AYVARA
Briana Sal-Soren​

 

[Briana Sal-Soren]

Incredible, she decided, taking in the moment as the world react to this new presence that'd revealed themselves.

A native, presumably.

Should she have been more concerned than she was? Perhaps. From the way his gaze fixed on her, to the coiled, sharp tension in his stance and muscles, silently informing her of his intent without ever saying a word. Even the way the Force pulled from her bones and retreated to one side of the land, as if to highlight she was an intruder in a place that did not want her, should have been enough to warrant alarm. Everything in that instance, told her she was unwelcome.

But for the most fleeting moment Briana was stunned, and her thoughts turned to the worlds she'd known, in comparison. Tython, Ossus, Ilum… even Exegol. They'd had the strongest Force vergences she'd ever encountered, but none of them had ever behaved like this.

A thousand consequent questions hurtled through her mind, but she did her best to surpress her innate curiosity. The most pressing need was to diffuse the situation and make it clear that she was not a threat. If there were others, and she had no reason to assume there weren't, the situation could deteriorate very quickly. The last thing she wanted was for this first contact to end badly.

He hadn't spoken a word. Nor had he reacted with any boisterous declarations when she’d asked him to show himself. Whether or not he'd understood her, or simply chose silence, was impossible to say. Thousands of languages were spoken across the galaxy, and while she was fluent in many, she certainly didn’t know them all, and since there'd been no knowledge of a native people, Briana was presently short a protocol droid as well. Spoken language was unlikely to serve them here.

But there were other means, other ways.

Slowly, Briana reached to set down the unlit hilt in her palm, lowering it to the ground at her feet. When she rose back to her full height, she took a single step back to put physical distance between herself and her weapon, letting that moment settle before reaching out to the Force, brushing against the surface of his mind with a calm stream of emotion.

I am not here to fight you.

TAG: Cadre | FYI: Vizion Trozky

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[Cadre]

The telepathy caught him unguarded.

Not the presence of her mind, but the manner of it. There was no force in her touch. There was no demand. There was no attempt to push through him or bend him toward her will. It brushed the edge of his awareness like warm water over stone, carrying with it a singular truth that needed no language to survive.

She did not intend violence.

The rhythm of Ayvara faltered about him.

The light behind him wavered, no longer flaring in obedient brilliance but ebbing and flowing in slow, uncertain pulses. Bioluminescent leaves dimmed, then brightened again, their glow breathing in time with his own hesitation. The current around his legs shifted, disturbed not by his motion, but by her thoughts touching his.

He remained standing, yet something in his posture changed. The rigid certainty in his shoulders eased, replaced by a subtle tension that had not been there before. His head tilted, eyes narrowing as though reassessing prey that had refused to behave as expected.

He had heard her.

Not the language she used across the space between them. Those were meaningless to him. But her intent rang clear, carried in the careful restraint of her presence and the honesty of her withdrawal. Ayvara knew the difference. So did he.

He spoke then, a single phrase in the low, resonant cadence of his own people. The language of Ayvara was not meant for offworld ears, its syllables shaped by long breathes. It was neither a challenge nor a welcome, but something more restrained. A simple statement of cautious recognition.

He took one deliberate step toward her.

The jungle responded instantly, light flaring in his wake as though pulled after him, the world rearranging itself to follow his movement. The distance he closed was small, but unmistakable, a reminder of how easily he might have chosen another path.

Then he turned aside.

A fallen tree lay half-submerged near the bank, its surface worn smooth by time. He moved to it without urgency and lowered himself to sit, one arm resting loosely against his knee. The light gathered behind him once more, settling into a steady glow that framed his silhouette in living blue.

He did not look away from her.

From this new vantage, he watched in silence, calm and unblinking, as one might observe a creature newly entered into unfamiliar territory. He remained alert, but non-threatening. Simply attentive to her actions.

Do something, curious creature.

Briana Sal-Soren
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