Private Grounded

[Mykel Dawson]

There was now an edge to Corazona's voice that wasn't there before. No more gentle nurturing guidance or consoling, just the cold directive of a superior to be obeyed. Testing Mykel - no, testing Him.

She was a sharp one, possessing a mind to match her looks, but then He wasn't really trying. His aim was no longer concealment.

For several seconds, He simply ignored her. Then while moving at a glacial pace to extend the disrespect, He lazily pivoted on a boot heel to face her, steely hazel eyes meeting her baby blues before letting out a yawn, boredom clear on His face. All the while, a thrashing Drengir was only a few feet at His back, but He didn't seem to care. Corazona now held the privilege of His complete, dreadful attention.

"No can do boss - I think I'm pretty wiped now," He replied, stretching His arms overhead. "That earlier Force Light took a lot out of me, and then the trapping this Drengir...even you seemed to struggle a bit. But, there's another way..."

He let His arms go slack before reaching into the satchel to produce the weapon she had earlier forbidden for the exercise.

He twirled the shotgun a few times by the stubby stock with an ease that belied its true heft. Making a flying vertical circuit that had the twin barrels pointing between her and the Drengir upon each rotation. The whole time, He looked upon her with indifference as if she was just another fixture in the forest.

Whoop.

Whoop.

Whoop.

Finally, His grip settled, the barrels trained on the forest floor.

"Let's just take a little shortcut, then break for lunch before we take care of the rest of this nest? Does that sound good, Master?"

Corazona von Ascania

 

[Corazona von Ascania]

Cora had seen the dark at work, but she'd never witnessed it overtake someone so quickly and so cleanly. Perhaps she'd had her own defenses raised high enough that her protection became blindness.

"It seems there is still much work to be done in cleansing Tython."

The shotgun was in his hand a moment too late. Cora's band had just reached to her waist, frozen where her fingers tightened around the hilt of her saber. Blue eyes narrowed onto Mykel - no, Him - as the barrels rotated between her and the struggling creature behind them.

Snippets flashed to her. The handing over of his mother's necklace, and the joy on his face when he retrieved the blaster. None of that genuine nature even peeked through the facade he wore now. It was sharper, like the edge of a knife. Dangerous.

She'd seen it before, and it made her stomach drop. More than her own life at stake, the Padawan's wellbeing hung in the balance.

With the blaster now aimed at the ground, Cora exhaled slowly through her nose.

"Let the boy go."

Mykel Dawson

 

[Mykel Dawson]

Every step closer to the nest had left Mykel more and more lightheaded, so queasy that he may puke out the sweet roll Corazona had gifted him earlier in the morning. Just like in her story about her first encounter with the Darkness, with the Grandmaster no less. Yet he held his tongue and pushed through the pain.

It would never be easy to face the darkness...

He had already embarrassed himself with the Knight he yearned so deeply to impress. It couldn't happen again.

Hold it together, be a man...

Corazona was so close that he could have reached out to touch her shoulder, yet she now felt like a parsec away.

Prove yourself worthy....

The ground no longer felt solid. It was like he was skipping along, buoyant. All the while, the air felt so thick that it seemed to cling to his skin like oil. Sounds became muddled, ears now aching from pressure, Corazona's words unintelligible. When he opened his mouth to speak, he immediately gagged as he felt his windpipe filled.

And you fail again. You will always fail....

He collapsed to the ground, wheezing, dark edges in his vision forming. He reached out for Corazona with one hand while clutching his neck with another.

She deserves better...

The darkness in his vision grew, and his lungs began to burn. He was drowning. It was over.

"Mykel?"

He blinked, still standing in place. Corazona now stood before him, her usual serene expression broken by concern. The forest around them was back to normal. The floor was solid. He could breathe again.

"It's okay, I feel it too. The Dark Side challenges us the most when we rise to oppose it. Just like a feral animal when cornered. Yet, we must go on. We must fight." She balled her prosthetic hand into a fist upon the last word, then gave him a playful bump to the chest with a small smile.

"Will you follow me? I could do this alone, but I rather wouldn't."

He looked behind her, the nest now only a few steps away. Pressure was still exerted upon him now in close proximity, but it was bearable. Maybe this wouldn't be so bad? Not with her around.

"Yes, I can." He replied, a smile slowly growing to match hers as his resolve grew. "Let's do it."

---

He smiled as she had finally acknowledged Him directly.

"As one born into power, you know better than most that there's no such thing as a free supper."

Mykel's memories had become His own. The fledgling Lightbearer had been meticulous in his study of the blonde aristocrat in preparation for their mission. Meticulous on gathering information on a wide range of topics, in fact. Such a studious young man, now serving as a valuable repository on the modern state of world.

"Your Jedi code...demands sacrifice. So tell me, what do you plan on sacrificing for him?"

His eyes drifted from her marred face to her false hand, sizing her up like a predator would new prey. Damaged goods, but there was still plenty of meat left on the bone. "How about a matching nub to start?"

Behind Him, the Drengir rattled against its impalements, its projections growing more intense in chronic agony and need for revenge. He had staked the creature as He did with clear intent, refreshing the dark ambiance of the nexus with fresh strokes of pain and anger.

He looked forward to fueling it further with her.

Corazona von Ascania

 

[Corazona von Ascania]

There was something behind His smile that felt off. Perhaps it was that the expression didn't quite reach His eyes, or maybe the subtle curve of His lips that felt just askew enough to be malicious.

Cora did not return His smile.

Her brows lifted at the talk of sacrificing a limb. That had one corner of her lips lifting into something that barely resembled an expression of amusement.

"A nub? Come now, we both know that you will not stop until there is nothing left of me to carve."

Not from her bones, nor from her mind. She tsked, the sound of a teacher disappointed in her student, oddly enough. Cora had faced her fair share of Darksiders that sought both her agony and her rage. To break a Jedi down, to get one to abandon the Light before they perished was seen as sport.

The Force flared around her; not as a bright, blinding beacon, but as a steady, thundering pulse that lent an extra twinkle of light to her eyes.

"Mykel," she spoke more gently now, a whisper even, though her voice was not without strength. "Our journey is not without struggle, but I am with you."

She didn't know how deeply Mykel was buried or if he could even hear her, but she trusted her sentiment to reach him in the Force.

Cora's gaze squared on the imposter. The fingers of her right hand still rested around her saber hilt, tightening their grip now. She extended her left arm, holding it out to Him.

"Come and take it, then."

Mykel Dawson

 

[Mykel Dawson]

Despite Corazona's encouragement, Mykel still failed to summon Force Light after multiple attempts. Even his mother's Light seemed to abandon him, looking down at the pendant to find the crystals cold and dull. He drooped his head with his eyes closed in shame, unable to face his mentor.

His brooding was short lived, the padawan seizing up as he felt the skeletal digits of Corazona's prosthetic hand digging under his chin to lift his head, the experience slightly painful.

"Is there a problem, Mykel?"

He opened his eyes to a pair of electric blue eyes that seemed to pierce right through him with quiet intensity. His first instinct was to squirm away, but he instead found himself helplessly locked into Corazona's stark gaze that now seemed strangely level with his, his head still caught in her hooks.

"I...I can't do it," he muttered.

Her eyes narrowed, making Mykel's breath hitch. Was she actually angry at him? Before he could come to a conclusion, he suddenly found himself stumbling forward as Corazona released him from her hold. One more she was at her normal stature, head coming just up to his chest level, yet he still felt so small in her presence.

She let out a small breath, expression softening.

"It's fine, I'm not upset with you, I was just thinking." She tapped a metallic finger to her bottom lip. "I told you before that we all had our strengths and weaknesses. Not every Jedi can summon Force Light, and that's fine - that didn't stop them from achieving great things. Morever, there are several Jedi that can't do what you can. Like communing with machines, or effortlessly parsing thoughts that requires skill by other psychics. We just need to play to your strengths."

She started to pace back and forth, her robes billowing around her.

Mykel started to relax as he realized she wasn't attacking him, but he still felt a little unease as she had become unpredictable. Just what was she thinking now?

"Aha..." she said, stopping with a sudden heel spin that brought her back facing Mykel. "What do you know of Vaapad?"

"Vaapad?" Mykel repeated, surprised. "Um well, it's a very aggressive form of lightsaber combat, typically reserved for Jedi Masters."

He tried to keep his answer vague, as he had studied Form VII in much more depth than he had let on, looking for his own reliable alternative to Force Light in combat against the Sith. He had hoped to gain wisdom from Jedi Masters past, though it had all been done in secret around the notice of Kaldor or his parents, as Vaapad was just as taboo as Electric Judgement.

"It's more than that..." she continued. "It is a philosophy, a state of mind. A recognition that we are all children of both the Light and Dark."

She held up her real hand, summoning Force Light. As she did, her shadow stretched into an unnaturally long and twisted form.

"Where light rises, shadows grow. Neither Ashla or Bogan are separate, but merely spectrums of the greater Force. If you accept this, if you accept the Darkness, then you can bend it to your will and control it. Then you will no longer have to fear the Drengir or the Sith. You will rob them of their greatest weapon as you become their mirror and conduit, redirecting their fury and fear. Just how you redirect energy with your whip."

Mykel was a little stunned by her words, being so candid on a controversial topic, but she was the Caretaker of Knowledge and had contend with the Dark Side in ways that most Jedi had never faced before. He trusted her.

"By embracing the Darkness," he started...slowly, "At least in a controlled compacity, would it lead me to their Light? I mean the Light they discard for the Dark Side?"

Now it was Corazona's turn to looked surprised, letting the Force Light extinguish in her palm. "Actually...that's not where I was going with this, but it's certainly something to consider!"

She clapped her hands together in excitement. "But if you're on board, then I could show you some Vaapad to start? I'll show you how to wrangle this nexus in a way that works for you. What do you say?"

Mykel paused, considering his answer, but then he began to wince as he felt a ringing in his ear.

​

The ringing felt like it was on the cusp of something intelligible, but he couldn't make it out. However, it possessed the quality of Corazona's voice. So weird, especially when she was standing right beside him. Everything about this place was messed up.

CLINK

The ringing suddenly stopped and he looked up to see Corazona with her prosthetic hand raised, just finished snapping.

"Stay with me, Mykel. We mustn't let the voices of the Darkness control us. We must aim to control them."

"Yes," he said. "I'm ready to learn how."

---

He clicked His tongue and wagged a finger at Corazona in admonishment.

"Ah ah ah, this is my paddy now," He informed her with a grin. Unlike His smile before, this expression was genuine, eyes crinkling. "I've been working on this lad for weeks now, and I was so fortunate that you brought him straight here. The only thing missing was a shiny bow. He will make a fine vessel."

"And..." He continued. "When trying to reach out to him, you're also touching Me. Which means...I get to touch back."

As much as He loathed the female Lightbearer, her defenses were admittedly impeccable even as she was pressed on several fronts by the tendrils of Bogan, but the brief exchange had been enough to snag a little nugget. One He could use to make a crack. All it took was a single one to burst the dam.

"My dear Corazona," a new but familiar voice would come from His lips. "How are you these days?"

Twisting real light around Him as He had earlier when mocking her Force Light, He had applied a glamour to himself,- a self reinforcing solifon of photonic waves - appearing as the late prince of Ukatis. It was an illusion, but one she couldn't easily dispel by just thinking about it. He began to circle her slowly, holding up His a hand, fingers flaring with azure lightning, hazel irises disappearing as they were momentarily swallowed by ghoulish light.

The bolts initially flared outward to the sky, but would soon condense into a column about the size of a greatsword. The light would largely die down, revealing a translucent sparking blade of murderous intent materialized into the real world. Its sharpness was otherwordly, light warping around the violent construct in strange patterns as it cut into space itself. In his other hand, he still wielded the shotgun that could also shear reality.

It was then that she would get a small taste of the of His festering hatred for all Lightbearers that he had been concealing previously, one that had festered over the millennia. A hatred so absolute that it could feel like she was standing before a withering furnace.

His hatred was that of the Jedi's First Enemy, born of gross betrayal by so called brethren who had forsaken Him for daring to reach into the Dark. For daring to become more.

"Show me your Jedi weapon."

Upon uttering the last word, the He hurdled toward her with blinding speed, blade angled to bisect her through the waist if unchallenged. Dust and debris kicked up in His wake, and the Drengir behind Him screeched, enthralled by the great dark entity before it. All now bearing down upon Corazona.

Corazona von Ascania

 

[Corazona von Ascania]

Mykel's features began to morph, changing into something disturbingly familiar. Horace von Cholmondeley, back from the grave she'd sent him to.

Intellectually, Cora knew that it wasn't him. But her body responded; stomach curling, jaw clenching, and the briefest spark of instinctual fear lit the clear blue of her eyes. It was hard to shake, when the man before her had taken the form of someone who'd tormented her so intimately.

There was doubt, too, when she hadn't sensed Him. He'd fooled her, and she'd delivered to Him exactly what He’s wanted. It was a stark reminder that no matter how high she climbed, there was always a way to fall.

"How unfortunate that you crawled your way back up from the nether," she murmured. "And how unpleasant that this old fool hasn't let you rest."

In one hand, a sword made of corrupted light. In the other, a blaster that could tear the fabric of reality. Both of them, wielded by a dark spirit possessing the body of a Padawan.

Ashla, what a mess. Cora could feel the roiling heat of His hatred as it simmered in the air around her.

Her eyes fell closed, and she drifted into the great weave of the Force. There was a pull opposite to her, a charged action as He sped towards her. The Drengir's screech reverberated, and Cora let it pass through her. The Jedi remained motionless, still as stone.

She drew at the last moment. Bright blue plasma would parry his strike as she half-stepped to the side. The fingers of her free hand curled towards her palm, and the forest answered her call.

Great thick vines surged towards Him from all directions, curling around His limbs like a tangled snare. They were larger and greater in number than the ones she'd summoned on the Drengir. Some were wooded like roots, clawing their way around His wrists and fingers, squeezing and tightening and branching as they grew, seeking to remove His hold from the weapons He bore.

Cora's expression was not serene, but steady. Firm. A deep seated hatred flickered behind her eyes, but she refused to feed that particular fire. Nothing good would come of it.

"Rather rude of you to keep using faces which do not belong to you," she muttered. Her fingers tightened, and so too did the snare. "Your name?"

Mykel Dawson

 

[Mykel Dawson]

There it was. Her seemingly implacable wall of control cracked as He stirred memories of her abuser. Corazona the Jedi was strong and serene, but the battered woman behind her was frail and seething. Only human.

He flashed her a knowing smirk as their weapons glanced off each other, completely unbothered that His deathblow had not felled her. Honestly, it would have been a bore to dispatch her so easily. Besides, His seemingly straightforward attack had been performed in such a way as to elicit a particular response from from the blonde. He hadn't just expected her repeated use of flora, He counted on it.

She certainly didn't disappoint.

From multiple vectors, masses of vines and roots shot at Him. Despite still rushing with the aid of Force Speed, some of tendrils were even faster, beginning to spiral around his limbs in an attempt to ensnare Him in a prison borne of nature itself. However, before He could be rendered completely immobile, He discharged a portion of the kinetite blade as Force Lightning. There was no time needed to summon energy within Himself as He already held it in His palm suspended for instantaneous deployment.

Almost immediately, the tendrils recoiled from His body as He came to a sliding halt, blackening and curling as azure sparks raced down their length. The flora had not just been shocked, but were being transformed in real time as His lightning coursed through each cell and molecule of their being like necrosis inflicting venom, reforming them into corrupted structures not unlike the screaming Drengir in the background.

These now gnarled blackened tendrils would redirect themselves at Corazona, though now they slithered toward her relatively slowly like stalking vipers, still sparking with his lightning, gradually making the ground itself a hostile space as they now acted as physical conduits for the vile nexus.

His assault was not just physical, but also mental as He struck out at the lines of thought she had extended to initially manipulate the vines and roots. His lightning was the medium He used to attempt to trigger phantom pains associated with the face He now wore. To fire up those repressed neural pathways and bring her mind back to the good ole' days as He disarmed her in the present.

"My name?" He repeated slowly. "I suppose you could refer to Me as the Once and Future King."

He cackled, playfully twirling His blade as He started pacing, snaking black vines obediently parting before each step.

"Or...hubby. Is it still too late to work things out?"

Anger was blossoming within her. The Darkness around them beckoned her to give into that anger, to punish the doppelgänger for his mockery and violations. Who was this dusty revenant to challenge her, the ascendant Knight who had faced off against some of the greatest threats the galaxy had ever known? Such insolence shouldn't go unanswered. It gave her sweet whispers of encouragement to assert herself and show how far she'd come.

"You know, it's amusing to point out My use of faces, when you're the one who likes wear masks. I see you for who you really are. A wolf chomping at the bit to be let off its leash. Why not, dear? It wouldn't be the first time."

Corazona von Ascania

 

[Corazona von Ascania]

Cora observed, with a curled upper lip, how Not-Horace seized the vines from her guidance and forced them under his control. The Dark screamed. It writhed, unnaturally, like the Drengir staked to the ground.

He took a step forward.

She took a step back.

Each spark that leapt from the blackened tendrils conjured another memory. Not fully. Not completely. Not so much the imagery – because that was right in front of her – but the sensation.

First, it was the humiliation of Horace's brutality as he hurt her in every way that a man could hurt a woman. Next, the crushing loneliness as he isolated her from everything familiar, going so far as to fire her household staff and replace them with his own. Then, the violence that often stretched through the night and spilled over into the daylight. Finally, the guilt that sought to rip her apart from within as she hovered over the balcony's edge. Horace had been so still then, his limbs twisted at awkward angles while a pool of crimson grew steadily from beneath his skull.

The Sith were cruel, but the pain that her first husband had caused was so intimate, so severe precisely because she had believed in the marriage.

Cora had not imagined that Horace would love her. Her father had convinced her that their union was a good thing, and perhaps it had been. The crown hoarded resources, and they flowed freely into Ascania territory once she wed the Prince.

She took another step back. Sweat beaded along her furrowed brow. There was something in His expression that reminded her of the party trick he'd commanded her to do. Even now, Horace's cruel laughter reverberated into her bones as she struggled to levitate a glass of red wine. Her wedding band, flecked with voidstone, was just another mechanism to bring his wife to heel.

Now, this coward dared to mock her as if she were still a frightened child bride. One death had not been enough. Perhaps, she'd give him another. One that would silence him forever.

"You know, it's amusing to point out My use of faces, when you're the one who likes wear masks. I see you for who you really are. A wolf chomping at the bit to be let off its leash. Why not, dear? It wouldn't be the first time."

Cora's jaw worked beneath her skin, teeth clenching together tightly. Her eyes flared wide, wild and furious as she surged forward. Her hand swung out, lightning fast to deliver a strike that would slap the insolence out of this dark creature.

No impact came.

Her palm hovered just above His cheek, close enough to feel the heat of His skin. It made the illusion feel that much more real. Blue eyes fell closed as she swallowed down the anger He'd stirred. She could not bring herself to dignify this demon with a response, or the reaction He had been drawing her towards.

Cora let out a slow breath as her eyes fluttered open. Sorrowful, almost, but calmer. Determined. Carefully, gently, her hand cradled His cheek.

"Let not this creature use you as a conduit, Mykel. The Dark disguises its poison as truth. It is not inevitable if we do not let it be."

Her voice lifted, strengthened with commanding resolve as she gazed into His abyss head on. A finger curled beneath His jaw, firm but tender.

"Come back to me. I know you're there. Even in the Darkest hour, a flickering Light can bring forth a blaze – find the spark, and embrace it with everything that you are."

Mykel Dawson

 

[Mykel Dawson]

Monster​

At the center of the nexus, black liquid began to percolate through the earth in several spurts, until a small pool of obsidian had formed. It was the very epicenter of blight, manifesting itself before them. Mykel shuddered in the face of the sludge, but Corazona only seemed to brighten at the sight.

"How perfect...now we may complete your training."

She motioned for him to follow her to the pool, where she crouched at the edge and reached out with her prosthetic hand. The viscous fluid didn't merely cling to the digits, but actively rode up her hand in small dark rivulets, aiming for the flesh.

"As you can see, if left unchecked, then the Darkness could consume me whole, until there was nothing left to carve away."

Despite the apparent danger, she continued to play in the black pool until the rivulets had just slid over the skin, wriggling right along the fractal patterns of her lightning scar. The danger was imminent, but she appeared tickled pink by the progress. Weird, but okay...

"But there's no need to fear, because we can control it...."

Finally she pulled her hand away from the pool, turning her palm upward for Mykel to witness. Soon, the progress of the fluid was reversed, forced to retreat from her skin, then completely manipulated as it was seized into a small hovering sphere in her hand. The confined fluid seemed to vibrate angrily against her control, but its prison was absolute.

"You see...no harm." She rose to show him her handiwork. "Under my complete dominion. Now, why don't you give it a try?"

Mykel's feet brought him closer before the pool before his mind could object. Staring down, he saw his reflection looking back. Pale, uncertain, and beside him...

It wasn't Corazona. Not exactly. It was her silhouette, but now nearly as black as the pool before him, her blue eyes replaced by twin pinholes of pale light. The figure stood as her shadowy inversion.

"No," he whispered as he back away from the pool, and from her.

Corazona's smiled curdled, lips pursed in frustration.

"Poor little Mykel. Afraid. Always so afraid. I'm trying to help you, but you continue to disappoint me."

Mykel had still been inching away, but now he stopped, eyes widened in shock.

"Please. I understand what you're trying to do, but this isn't right. I see--"

She held up her real hand to cut him off. "Why do I even bother to waste my time on someone like you? You should just go run back to the Silver Jedi and stick with your mummy and daddy under their robes. It's clear as day that you're not ready fight the Sith."

His eyes narrowed, irritation rising for the first time. Even if she was his superior, he wasn't going to take her unwarranted insults like a doormat.

"I'm not doing it. This isn't right. You should know better, Master. You told me that I should embrace my strengths earlier, but I don't think this is where I'll find it. I don't like what it brings out in you. Let us find another way."

While standing up for himself, Mykel also tried to remain respectful to resolve the conflict, but it only caused the opposite effect.

"HOW DARE YOU! Do you know who I am and what I've done?! This is the only way you will succeed Mykel. Either you do as I say, or we're done. You'll never see me again, and I'll ensure that your remaining time in the New Jedi Order is spent as a pariah."

He froze. She knew right where to hit him. His desire to please. To belong. To be seen.

Especially by her.

But in his very bones he felt this to be wrong, and he would gladly sacrifice his personal standing and his contact with her if meant keeping his oath as a Jedi.

"Then...do what you must Master."

For several moments, Corazona's face was twisted in pure disgust, but then her expression relaxed, suddenly replaced by a smirk.

"Alright," she said simply, right before she flung the black sphere at his head.

Instinctively, Mykel drew his lightwhip in saber mode, meeting the obscene projectile with the blue blade rising forth from his hilt with a snap-hiss. However, the sphere was neither incinerated or deflected, but kept pushing against the blade with steady pressure.

"If only you had just given in willingly," Corazona spoke, voice growing more distorted with each syllable. "Then I would have set you up nicely in a dream. I see you fancy this hag for some reason. You could have had a lovely dream being entertained by her for the rest of your days in your own little fairy tale, being the hero to the whole galaxy. Wouldn't that have been lovely?"

The black pool erupted, belching its foul contents all over Corazona. No...Mykel knew better now. There was no Corazona. There never was.

"But now...you'll have nothing of that. Instead you'll have a front row to her being shredded, until there's only her little metal fingers for a souvenir. Then comes Kaldor, and after that Valery. Then comes that precious city you helped build up. The streets will run with rivers of blood. All with your face. All in your name. And there won't be a single thing you can do about it, except enjoy the ride."

As He spoke, His shape was reformed, now as an inversion of Mykel.

"Then comes your brand new temple. Then we're going to have a visit to Coruscul for a little family reunion..."

"Shut up!" Mykel roared, putting more strength behind his grip, dread being overtaken by rising fury in the face of the personal threats. He understood now, this was the voice that had haunted him ever since he had stepped foot in Tython. When he had nearly been consumed by it during his first 'bout against the Drengir. He had thought it had had been them, but know he knew better when facing down the source. "Just shut the feth up!"

Once again it had tried to take him, and Mykel was growing tired of it all. It was time to fight back.

He only cackled in response, lifting a hand to send a volley of black tendrils shooting straight from His fingers to overwhelm Mykel. In response, Mykel released one of his hands from his saber, raising it up and letting the the lightning fly. Each tendril was met with a golden bolt of Electric Judgement. The original black sphere finally shriveled out of existence from his renewed assault.

"You told me to play to my strengths, yeah? Well, let me show you how."

---

It was all so perfect. Carazona overwhelmed by the fear of past abuse and humiliations, and then launching herself toward Him as she lashed out against Him who wore the face of her terror.

It was one thing to feed off the Drengir, already borne of the Darkness, but there was a something especially exquisite to dine upon the fallen, to relish in their corruption.

There was one last step. He was ready for the impact, letting His defenses drop as He saw her moves telegraphed so clearly. So what if she landed a blow or two? Wounds could heal. Limbs be replaced. But the memory of her becoming a monster like her abusers would remain to haunt her forever. Right up until He finally axed her, that is, her last memories being of bitter failure, unable to end the cycle. How delicious.

"That's it, let it out, little wolf" He cooed. "Show me who you really are."

She flickered out of view for a moment, then blinked backed into existence right before him, her speed so great it caused His hair and robes to whip around. Her hand shot out, and with it a Cheshire grin broke out on His face. Here we go!

He prepared to be throttled, but the blow never came.

Instead He found His cheek being softly caressed as she spoke to him. Through Him to the boy inside.

For the first time, He hesitated. His grin was shattered, replaced by confusion. This wasn't what He had expected.

But it was what He wanted...

For an instant, the blonde was replaced by vision of another woman in her stead.

Ralena...

Earlier, when the Jedi had had asked Him His name, He had simply trolled her in response, but the truth was that He did not recall. He had died well before the birth of the Old Republic. Up until now, He could only really remember the hatred He had harbored for all Lightbearers like herself, but now as ancient memories were unearthed by Corazona's stimulation, He could see the truth.

He really hated himself, and wanted everyone to be like Him.

He fell back from her grasp, now lurching. "Damn you woman...damn you both."

Now He realized that He had bitten off more than He could chew. Even with the benefit of the Dark Side nexus and the Drengir to boost His powers, these two Lightbearers were exceptional in their resolve. He could take on one, but not both at once as long as He remained disembodied.

First the welp.

Falling to His knees, He let both weapons fall to the ground before rearing His head to let out an earsplitting scream. It could have been interpreted as a cry of frustration - it was anything but. He needed to keep her busy as he completed the possession. First, the twisted vines nearest to Him would rise to envelop Him in a protective cocoon, providing a much needed barrier that could even stand up to her Force Light for a time. Other tendrils lashed out at her to hold her at bay.

Meanwhile, in the background, there would soon be rustling heard all around them beyond the clearing. Very soon, there would be more like their staked friend arriving. If He was going down, then he was going to make sure that everything and everyone on this fething planet went down with him, until Tython was one great black garden.

Corazona von Ascania

 

[Corazona von Ascania]

Mykel was buried deep beneath illusory layers of corruption, beneath His presence. She imagined that it might've felt like a pressure bearing down unto him at all angles, unrelenting as it sought to burst him open. At least, that was how she'd experienced the near-total oppression of the Dark in the past.

He was still there. She could feel the Padawan begin to stir, but her words seemed to have struck Him.

There was almost a softening of His cruel visage. A delicate, vulnerable need that exposed itself in the most unexpected way. Something He'd long forgotten.

As He stumbled back, Cora's hand fell to her side. A chink in the armor, both outside and from within. She could see it, now. The mask of Horace began to blur, distorted by her understanding. They were both fighting back.

"Damn us both indeed," she murmured. Reading the shift in the Force, the blonde killed her saber and raised both palms to cover her ears. A defensive application of esoteric energy kept the shock wave from rupturing her ear drums as she stumbled back.

Come on, Mykel, she imparted the sentiment unto him, uncertain if it would land. Don't give this spiteful old fool an inch!

For an aristocrat, Cora had always done well in wooded environments. She'd grown up on an agricultural world, spending much of her youth traversing the seemingly endless forests of Ukatis. Beneath her feet, she read the intertwining roots that spread through the forest floor, like the neural network of Tython. They trembled in warning. More drengir.

Quick, precise flicks of her wrist sheared the encroaching vines before she turned her back to Him. They were hungry, pouring over the fresh cracks in her psyche like a thick sap. Her flesh hand found the ring of her talisman, fingers curling around the trinket imbued by the waters of her homeland. Her lips moved in a quiet prayer to Ashla.

The creatures were fast approaching. Cora waited until they strayed past the periphery of her senses, then a few moments more. Her hand left the pendant, fingers slowly curling into a fist. Extending her arm, her fingers suddenly splayed outward, sending a unrelenting wave of invisible energy toward the drengir allies.

Mykel Dawson

 

[Mykel Dawson]

Initially, Mykel found himself in a stalemate with the inversion, his Electric Judgement perfectly countering each black tendril, blade at the ready in his other hand. However, like a hydra, the tendrils multiplied exponentially, until it was like tsunami wave now crashing against him. Immense pressure was bearing down on him, the inversion somehow gaining strength.

"All my attention is on you now," He called out, assuming Corazona's voice and appearance again just to taunt Mykel. "Just like you wanted. Then we're going to have real good time on the outside."

Mykel didn't acknowledge the taunting, he just grit his teeth as he shored up his defenses, channeling even more lightning until it was like a golden curtain spread out before him. This should have been what did in the invader, but the shadow only seemed to grow stronger in kind. Now the padawan's whole body felt heavy as invisible pressure continued to wear him down, causing his arms and legs to buckle.

"I'll throw you a bone, we can finish Corazona quick or slow, up to you. My little treat."

"SHUT UP!"

Cruel cackling pounded against his eardrums so hard that he felt like they would split open. Try as he might, he was being overtaken by the Darkness.

Please, not like like this...

Just as he felt himself on the verge of collapse, that same voice from earlier cut through the haze, much clearer this time around.

"Let not this creature use you as a conduit, Mykel. The Dark disguises its poison as truth. It is not inevitable if we do not let it be."

Her voice lifted, strengthened with commanding resolve as she gazed into His abyss head on. A finger curled beneath His jaw, firm but tender.

"Come back to me. I know you're there. Even in the Darkest hour, a flickering Light can bring forth a blaze – find the spark, and embrace it with everything that you are."

It was Corazona! The real one. She was out there, still fighting for him. Still reaching out when he had reached rock bottom, in the clutches of this dark apparition.

"She can't help you," He countered, the smug tone gone. "No one can."

Mykel ignored the invader, holding on to her words like a lifeline. There finally came new clarity to his mind, as he was able to start thinking instead of merely reacting like a cornered animal.

In that moment, he realized he was wielding the Light. Intuitively, when his loved ones came under real threat. There was no technique to master. No great secret to unlock. No need to bend the Force to his will. When he had rejected the false Corazona's offering, he hadn't just turned away from the Dark Side. He had refused the lie at the heart of it.

The lie that he was broken.

That he needed to fix himself. To become more, to be better like his peers, to earn something. He always overthought everything. Trying to dissect the Force like a formula. Trying to find a clean solution to avoid failure. But the Light wasn't something to be solved. It wasn't waiting on the other side of perfection. It was already there.

Faint, flickering, imperfect, but his.

In this nightmare, his Light had manifested as the Electric Judgement he had once believed as taboo, now wielding it in his current struggle without reservation. A tacit acceptance of who he was.

"The Dark Side challenges us the most when we rise to oppose it," he repeated the invader's own words when it had been impersonating Corazona. "I see now that you're flailing.

"Ridiculous! You aim to mock ME!" He howled, launching yet more Darkness at Mykel. The padawan was forced to drop to a knee from the sudden escalation, but he did not falter.

"No, your words...were simply sound," Mykel replied, voice quavering, but it was from the struggle rather than fear or anger now. "The best lies are cloaked in truths...and now I can see what they are."

Mykel deactivated his saber and let his lightning die. The next moment, he was swallowed whole by the Dark waves. Seemingly drowning much like he had at the start of the possession.

"The truth is that you are mine. Now and always."

"No," Mykel stated calmly, standing amid the darkness unbothered, eyes closed. "The truth of the matter is as you said, that we are all children of the Ashla and Bogan, and I see Ashla within you even as you try to hide it."

Mykel opened his eyes, searing white light outpouring like high beams. The scene in turn became as blinding as his eyes.

"NOOOOOOOO-----" He shrieked, but it was too late.

---

The infestation of carnivorous plants were like legion, bearing down upon the lone Jedi. Yet, despite their numbers and ferocity, she held them at bay with both blade and aura. Amid the encroaching Darkness, the Jedi Knight had become a lambent fortress unto herself, buoyed by their eternal nemesis as she cut them down in swaths.

However, while the Force may be infinite, the strength to wield it was not.

The great hive master pulling the invisible strings of the hordes switched tactics, no longer mindlessly charging toward her and her weapons of Light, but keeping distance as they formed a wall of bodies around her. Now there were Drengir flinging debris and venom sacs from a safe distance as they focused most of their strength projecting horrors against the fresh cracks in her psyche.

This had now become a war of a attrition, and time was on the side of the horde. Even such a brilliant servant of Ashla would falter eventually, and they would be there to exploit such weakness to her doom.

Tick tock.

Corazona von Ascania

 

[Corazona von Ascania]

The Dark was not inevitable, she'd told him.

But, the Light could falter.

It was a cusp that she'd found herself walking along before. Not like this, though. Not among the vines and tree and flowers, resplendent with life as if in worship of Ashla herself. Cora had seen forests curled and desiccated into charred husks, their vigor siphoned away by the Dark. She'd heard the siren's call, but an aristocrat who'd had a strict upbringing was instinctively wary of any path that promised her everything she'd ever wanted if only she'd give in.

He'd cocooned himself in a snarl of plant life, but Horace's face still lingered in her mind. The Drengir noticed. They did what the Dark did best once it got its hooks into someone; it exploited her pain.

A concentrated heat bloomed against the space just above her right hip. A white-hot, searing ache that had once melted flesh as her bastard of a husband held a hot iron poker to her skin. Time had done little to temper how blinding the sensation truly was, and Cora choked on her next breath, eyes wide and jaw clenched.

She dropped to one knee, her flesh hand grasping and twisting stalks of dried grass tightly. Even a groan of agony could not be suppressed as her head spun, torn between the reality of the forest floor and the memory of hardwood against her cheek. Her grip on the grass grew more aggressive, desperate to anchor herself to something as her flesh bubbled and sizzled.

The drengir were waiting, but they would not be for much longer. Soon, the waves of the Force warned, they would swarm their prey.

Cora lifted her head to them, toward the bulk of the shadowy figures cloaked in leaves and vines as they lingered in the distance. Her brow tensed with beaded sweat, and her trembling hand finally relinquished its grip to grasp the talisman around her neck once more.

Her lips moved in the shape of a quiet prayer. She couldn't do this alone.

Mykel Dawson

 

[Mykel Dawson]

Just Pretend​

Ralena's plush lips were soft against his, trembling just slightly as she were trying to suppress a laugh. He kissed her slowly, reverently, one hand cupping her cheek, the other threading through her silken chestnut locks. They lay curled together beneath the gentle sway of the windblown grass. Stars glittered and rosy and violet nebulas glowed across the vast canopy of the night sky. When they parted, her forehead rested against his. He shifted a hand over her chest, feeling her heart, matching his beat for beat. If there was an argument for a soulmate, then she was its best example.

Thick lines of blood spilled beneath her, staining the battlefield with so many others. The clear sky was choked by smoke and the stench of scorched flesh. Too late had he found Ralena, now broken and bleeding because of the Rakatan fiends. He pulled her corpse into his arms, gushes of warm blood immediately pooling in his lap. There was no goodbyes. No ceremony. Just a mangled corpse going cold as the world burned around them. He let out a sound he didn't recognize. A raw primal crack that split the Force open. Something had uncoiled in his spirit, and he let it bloom.

He found the Black Engine in what used to be the archives, half buried beneath collapsed stone and rebar. Symbols lined the surface - alien, demonic, forbidden. Powerful. His fingers hovered, then he pressed down upon the central node with certainty, lighting up the black structure with pulsing veins of red light that basked him in a crimson glow. Immediately the air filled a buzz like chittering insects. Alien whispers. Hunger. He didn't flinch. The Je'daii called this blasphemy. He called it survival. If they remained weak, then they all deserved to die.

Whole sections of of the temple flew apart like glass under a falling hammer. Spires crumbled. Statues of balance were annihilated under a constant maelstrom of destruction. His armor punctured and weapons shattered. His skin split open along his arms and neck. He didn't stop. He didn't care. His rage fed the storm, and the storm fed him back. Screams blurred with thunder. Bodies fell, light and dark alike. He wasn't their brother anymore. He was their reckoning.

She smiled against him, gentle and disarming to her gruff lover. "Let people see what I see," she murmured. "Not just the grump who trains too much. Show them the sweet man I love." He didn't answer right away, just wrapping his arms around her a little tighter. "Life wasn't easy before Tython, it's difficult to open up to the others." he admitted. "But you make it feel like it could be."

He couldn't remember how long he'd been holding her before the others arrived. Their voices didn't reach him. His eyes were dry. All he saw was red. He'd failed her. Failed them all. When he rose, the Force came with him like a tide, black and raging. There was no balance anymore.

The inner seal opened with a hiss. The core of the Black Engine, a spiraling void, opened its "eye". He did not recoil in the face of the flaming iris, letting it see him. The broken warrior, the grieving lover, the beaten boy. The Hollow Man. The machine understood. It took him in completely, filling the emptiness with new, terrible purpose.

When it ended, there was nothing left but craters and toppled buildings. A place where the Force screamed and would never stop. A new scar on Tython. A monument to ruin.

---

"ENOUGH!!!" He shrieked, mind relieving the moments and more. His whole life flooding back to him in one great surge.

"It's time to let go, Kiros," a female voice called from behind.

"W-what?" The fallen Je'daii stood upon the field where he had once laid with his lover, now locked in his final appearance before his death. He turned back find Ralena in her prime, dressed in a shimmering green gown.

"This is a trick. Blast you Mykel Dawson to nine hells!"

"There's no trick," Mykel said, now beside him, expression placid. "When we love people deeply as you did, there is a piece of them that sticks with you forever. That's all this is. In the same way you used my inner darkness to manipulate me, I used your light to unearth your memories you've been repressing all these eons for your misguided crusade. Think of her as your heart speaking to you."

"No...no...you're lying!" Kiros stammered, backing away from the two figures.

A hand was now on his shoulder to still him, Ralena's doppelgänger - his conscience finally able to speak. "We didn't aim to become a monster, we just wanted the pain to stop. We thought by becoming so powerful, nothing could hurt us anymore. But instead, we ruined everyone and everything else we held dear. We helped birth a schism that plagues the galaxy to this day. Nothing about what we did can be overturned, but there is something we can do now."

"What is that?"

"To finally choose peace." She answered. "To break the cycle."

Kiros fell to the ground, groaning as dropped his head to the earth. "What have I done...what am I doing...."

After a while, there were a few dark spots on the earth beneath his face.

"Do what you will, Jedi." Kiros finally said, defeated, voice slightly muffled. "I don't want to hurt anymore. I don't want to hurt her anymore."

By her, he meant Corazona. Made whole again, there was no great revelation to Kiros like in the fairy tales. Not salvation. Only digust in himself. Both he and Corazona had been subject to great abuse in their youth, but as she had rose to overcome her demons, he had succumbed to his in the end. He saw that now. Mykel would see that too, privy to some of their most intimate and dreadful memories.

"If there's anything I can offer, it is my memories as instruction. As a warning."

"Thank you," Mykel said. "Not everything is bad here. While you may have done evil things, no one is beyond redemption. Your knowledge will be a boon to our cause against the Sith."

Kiros sat up, face tear stained, crimson eyes returned to their original golden hue. "I'm so sorry...to both of you."

"It's alright," Mykel said, now crouched before him. Relena was gone, now the two men alone on the steppes.

"If I could have one final request," Kiros ask, "Would you move my remains to her gravesite? Surely you'll know where it is with all your prodding."

Mykel nodded, then raised two fingers to Kiro's forehead. "Certainly. Now, are you ready?"

Kiros looked up at the sky, while false, was still so beautiful. "You didn't have to do this - you could have simply excised me with Ashla as soon as you had taken control."

"I could have," Mykel agreed, "But I like this way better."

---

As Corazona struggled against the darkness within and without, she'd be able to feel a hand on her back to steady her. Not just physically, but spiritually as well, reinforcing her defenses as he opened himself to her. Thanks to Kiros, a semi-bond had already been established in violence. Now he leaned upon that new link in fellowship.

"Oh dear," Mykel said. "Sorry for leaving you hanging."

In the real world, little time had passed, but to Mykel it seemed liked he had just lived an entire lifetime on the spiritual plane. Corazona, the real Corazona, was a sight for sore eyes. In the way he tried to bring her comfort from the terrors around them, her mere presence brought him solace.

The Drengir, who had settled into a comfortable lull during their war of attrition against Corazona, were rattled in their current formation as they felt a shift in the nexus. What had been nourishing was now scathing, forcing them to back away and prematurely end their ranged assault.

Behind and below Mykel there were other signs of the shift. Fresh grass and saplings sprouted underfoot, while buds began to spring all over the split cocoon he had finally emerged from. Tython was reclaiming its biomass from the invasive species.

The nexus had been tamed as the spirit of Kiros had been released, and now the pair of Jedi could turn a hinderance into a new bastion of strength.

"I understand now," he continued. "How to take down these Drengir at once."

Mykel spoke with a new confidence forged from his triumph over the darkness, and from his deepening connection with the earth itself.

"Will you follow me?"

He offered his free hand to help her stand.

Corazona von Ascania

 

[Corazona von Ascania]

In the midst of her struggle, Cora felt a gentle pressure at her back. It wasn't forceful, but firm. Soothing, in a way. Steadying.

Slowly, the clouds of endless darkness began to part.

As Kiros returned to the Force, his presence faded. He didn't go screaming and thrashing - he went peacefully. So too did his influence begin to wane, relieving the onslaught of anguish that served as fuel for the Drengir and tension for the Jedi.

She felt Mykel's presence before she saw him. Cora inhaled deeply, filling her lungs with a literal breath of fresh air. A slow exhale, and she cocked her head to the side.

The agonizing burn at her hip began to fade as Horace's image slipped away. He'd never be truly gone from her memories, but he was no longer at the forefront of her mind.

Carefully, her fingers unlatched from the amulet and pulled the corner of her tunic up just slightly. Gnarled skin and spots of ink were the same as they'd always been. Pale lines and textured bumps, but they were neither red nor tender with heat.

Mykel stepped past her, leaving a trail of greenery in his wake. Cora finally tilted her head upward, and made a small noise of surprise from the back of her throat.

It was as if he'd emerged from a chrysalis. Calm, assured, and almost glowing with reverence to the Light. Though she did not know the details that had lead to his metamorphosis, she no longer sensed troubling threads in his aura.

Could it be…?

He extended his hand, and Cora took it. She rose to her feet slowly, gaining strength with each breath until she stood tall.

Relief and resolve coursed through her in equal measure. Cora dipped her head, a subtle nod to the Padawan.

"Lead the way, then."

Mykel Dawson

 

[Mykel Dawson]

​

As their connection deepened in the heat of battle, Mykel would be able to feel the phantom terrors that had just been dredged up to the forefront of Corazona's mind as she had been tormented by the both the Drengir and the corrupted spirit of Kiros in his absence. Mykel in turn, provided her with praise and comfort.

Corazona, I have always admired you, even more so than now as your pain is revealed to me.

You are strong.

Not simply because you endured the violence,

But because when you finally have the power, you strive to become a source of solace rather than terror.

The scars would remain even after recovery, but the choice of how to move on with life would always be hers.

The fact that she had stood up for him in the face of such overwhelming odds had greatly endeared her to him. Now it was his turn to step up for her, offering his fresh insights gained during the his trial of mind and spirit. In a switch, the student had become the teacher for the moment as they now faced down this final existential threat together.

As he had learned to cleanse Kiros from within, he had realized that the same principal could be applied to the Drengir. They could all be cleansed at once as the creatures remained strongly interconnected through their hive mind, turning their greatest strength against them.

But to do this, he needed to see beyond his eyes. Beyond even the usual passive precognition. He dived deeper into the Force using the purified vergence of the forest as a conduit, rising into the air while still holding hands with Corazona as he did. The limited perceptions of his physical senses were shed as his clarity improved. Time and space became inconsequential - the illusions borne of linear mortality temporarily overcome.

The grand tapestry of the Force now laid out before him, his vision of the universe now waveforms that permeated all of creation. One great chorus of all the universe expressing itself in ever greater permutations within the Living Force. Mykel and Corazona were now laid bare, their past, present, and possible futures as he saw through them.

He clearly perceived Tython in its totality, riddled with Force wounds as the pitiful followers of Bogan had attempted to twist it beyond repair in their forever campaign of defiance against nature. Now he also saw the Drengir, exploiting the devastated world to rapidly spread their rot across the planet. He saw the beasts for they really were, the talons of a much greater Abyss of an ancient ravenous hunger that had even made the Sith cower in fear.

However, he did not shy away from the Abyss, now standing as both blade and aegis for Tython.

You do not belong here.

The forest began to shudder with light tremors, great tendrils of old wood erupting from the earth. They ensnared the Drengir en masse, much like how Corazona had trapped a single one of the carnivorous plants before. However, it wasn't just the scale of the entrapment that had changed, but the effect. Ashla radiated from each tendril as they formed prisons of Force Light to break down each Drengir. Their presence was not only scoured in the physical world, but also banished on the metaphysical plane as the Force Light spread through their psychic network like anti-bodies.

Through the vergence, Mykel had focused the life force of ecosystem - the planet's immune system - into eradicating the Drengir of the forest in a targeted strike. However, he was only one Jedi, exhausted by his struggles with Kiros. He needed Corazona to help him spread the Light throughout the entire vile network and right into the source of the hive leaders.

One more push.

Corazona von Ascania

 

[Corazona von Ascania]

Each moment that passed would string another thread between them. Cora hadn't realized it at first - not with Kiros' assault on her soul - but he'd opened both Jedi to one another.

As she gathered herself, Mykel's sentiment drifted into her mind. It wasn't the intrusion she'd experienced earlier, but something softer and benign. It had a gentle strength to it, a surety reborn from the ashes of his struggle with the dark Jedi's spirit.

Cora was a private person who kept the unsavory pieces of her past close to her chest. To have her suffering exploited and exposed stirred her shame, but it began to evaporate, displaced by Mykel's acceptance.

Slowly, the bitter feelings distilled into little tears that leaked from the corners of her eyes and dripped down cheeks flushed with exhaustion. The humid jungle air that bathed her lungs did not soothe, but it invigorated.

Glimpses filtered to her through their meld. Her own face, beckoning him to corruption, mockery when he resisted, and threats when he refused to follow a darker path. She didn't get the full story, but enough snippets to draw a wider conclusion.

Here they stood. Battered by the storm, but they hadn't drowned in its waters.

Sprawling roots burst from the ground below, snaring the drengir in their hold. Mykel had tapped into the primal energy of the planet, encouraging it to fight back against a viral intruder. In Ashla's grasp, the drengir thrashed and cried out in agony. The last wail of the dark before it would be burned from Tython's scars.

The Padawan was the conduit for such an incredible response, and the Knight was the wind as his back. Steady and unyielding, she leant him her energy and however far her expertise had come.

The Light grew brighter, spreading further and further along the network of roots. Her awareness went with it, tracing each path until tendrils surrounded the nest and its leaders. The drengir's hive mind would become their own undoing, for it was now a conductor of Ashla.

The Light grew stronger, until it was all-encompassing and swallowed both Jedi and the forest around them in a luminous flare. The moment before her features would be lost to the temporary contrast, her lips would tilt into a smile. Faint, but warm and genuine. Serene.

In such a short time, Mykel had come so far from the young man who struggled to summon the Light in this way.

I am proud of you.

Mykel Dawson

 

[Mykel Dawson]

The false Corazona had been a great deceiver, spinning a thick web of lies to ensnare the Apprentice into corruption, but intertwined in those lies were a few sure truths. The most fundamental being that the Dark Side became the most ferocious when directly challenged.

Even with the primal energies of Tython coursing through his being, Mykel felt like he had suddenly slammed against an iron wall as the Hive Mothers hit back, leveraging all their foul strength for one last desperate backlash to crack his focused state. They raked at his mind with the collective memories of countless horrors inflicted upon thousands of worlds and billions of lives in their eons of existence across generations. All this would be but a fraction of the suffering they would wreak upon him singularly, until the end of time.

Yet more lies, deceptions to break his withering assault. However, even as he was aware on some level, the projections were still so potent that he could practically reach out and touch the nightmares for himself. More vivid than anything he had experienced from Kiros.

A coppery taste now flooded his tongue, and a new warm wetness dripped down his nose.

The Apprentice felt close to buckling, finally crumpling from the sheer exhaustion of waging a cosmic struggle for which he was ill prepared.

Yet there she was again, Corazona bolstering him in his time of greatest need.

He could not fall here. He could not fail them. He could not fail her.

With fresh crimson lines now trickling down the corners of his lips, he grit his teeth and flung his entire spirit into their black wall like a battering ram.

Thud

Crack

Crack

BOOM​

Their last bastion was shattered, the Hive Mothers right along with it screeching one final death knell. One dark promise that their spore sisters across the galaxy would come for him.

Let them come. I'll be right here waiting.

It was done. Mykel rode the high of his cosmic connection for a little while longer with Corazona, enjoying the enlightened perception finally free of fighting. To see the beauty of the universe as it was. No time. No distance. No struggle. Only the great Song of the Force flowing freely through his mind, and to Corazona through their melding. Nirvana.

But, all good things had to come to an end. Maintaining such a state was still beyond the Apprentice for now, who had only triggered it through a certain confluence of events. Perhaps only by the grace of Tython itself. He did not know for certain, but he would surely learn.

His vision returned to normal, and he began to glide down while still clasping Corazona's hand. As they came down, he could observe the vast expanse of the forest from their elevated vantage point. Gnarled and ashen flora had sprung back to life with new verdant growth. New thick canopies of leafy greens while the forest floor was carpeted by blooming flowers covering the full spectrum of color. Like scar tissue, the twisted trees would never truly regain their former symmetry, but in their revival they could reach new heights.

Much like the woman beside him.

Finally, they were back on the ground with a soft landing. It was then that Mykel broke his grasp with Corazona, but only to turn to pluck a silvery white bloom from a bush that had flared out of the cocoon that had once trapped him.

He came around to her front, offering a small smile while gingerly dabbing away her tears with the brush of the petals, soft as feathers.

"You'll ruin your makeup," he teased with a hoarse voice, then wheezed to himself.

Finally, he slid the flower behind one of her ears by the stem.

"Thank you," he said, recalling her last thought to him. It meant everything in the world to have her approval, even if he had shown her in his memories that he could live without it. To be a Jedi was to put duty above everything else.

Those were his last words before he fell to his knees, slouching with his head now drooping as he fell out of consciousness.

He had finally felt safe enough to do so, as moments later there would be a rumbling emanating from the forest. Jedi and Antarian Rangers stationed at the nearby refugee settlement would emerge into the clearing riding speeder bikes and fighter tanks, ready for a fight as a great disturbance had been detected. Yet the short but intense war of wills was already done and gone.

Several Jedi and Rangers were quick to rush to Corazona and Mykel to render aid, while others just stood there astonished at the transfigured forest.

Even with their experience with all matters paranormal, the Jedi could still find something new to surprise them.

Corazona von Ascania