Private Heartstrings and Sorrow

[Jegy Sesara]

This place has been long since overrun. Coruscant had sections of the city that had been bombarded several hundred times throughout the recent centuries yet this one generally remained intact. Several graves were moved here or there but not very often, one of which was what the Sullustan was visiting today. Each step he took, the sound of gravel would shift nearby as small bugs would scatter from afar. When this place was grand, it was the place to be buried for Imperial Officials and their families...it made sense for his beloved wife to been buried here when he was still true to their cause. After the funeral though...he could not see further than the gravestone. More than a few nights and days, had he refused to go further than a few blocks away from the church. He mourned them...he mourned the life he once had. Finding the gravestone, it would be shared by two names, one named Nina and one named Crane. Looking down at the rather extravagant tombstone with faded pictures that barely could be told, he would stop and get onto his knees.

"Hey...it's me. I know, been a while...I hope you two are doing okay...I brought my harp this time, like I said...maybe it...can help...I hope."

Jegy never had a true grasp on what to do after they died...it was not like the others. He lost his whole family, he could never find the right words to say to them...it was all his fault. Pulling out a small harp from his robe, he would pull it apart as the strings stretched and made a beautiful noise. Still kneeling, he coughed a little and with a very slow plucking, he would start to play his harp in front of them, unaware of anything around him...only focusing as he did once a year, on their gravestone. He would remain quiet, there was no voice to guide in song, just the gentle plucking of a harps beautiful sounds, though sometimes, it would feel of sadness.

Pom Stych Tivé

 

[Pom Stych Tivé]

The Nightsister Mistress Pom Stych Tivé's stay upon Dathomir had been cut short upon receipt of a transmission, one she had not expected on ever receiving. Many of the bodies of slaves encapsulated on the Sith Grrwunhoooll Agaburry 's slave ship The Creeper had been recovered from interstellar space around Kuat. The ship had been destroyed during the Rebellion, and thousands of lives had been murdered by the repetitive Republic blasts. Pomsty requested images of any small boys who had been discovered floating through space, and the body of the little orphan boy, Elimond, had been identified by her.

Since the destruction of the slave ship's human shield, which she nearly took part in, had it not been for her rescuer and longest standing suitor Draconis Caesar, Pomsty had been carrying within her self the souls of those departed, who rushed her being in unison and she had willingly accepted them. Elimond's desires manifested most profound as ever present over the voices of the others, and often detected as their leader.

Pomsty however, immediately fell into her old Nightsister way of Sorcery, as she took control of the spirits before they could consume her, persistent in their one last will for revenge upon those who had caused their demise. The Nightsister adored the boy Elimond during their short acquaintance, but she did not like the idea of being drawn into the oldest war of the galaxy, that of between Light and Dark. Her people joined wars when bequest was made, and their's had been more than adequate restitution. In reality however the Nightsisters simply planned on their own survival, and learning as much as possible from across the galaxy so that their descendants may prevail in spite of the rest of the galaxy's war against their own brotherhood.

She meditated and spoke with these spirits regularly from the moment they had chosen to possess her. In it they were then forced to learn about her ways and her wishes. To command a Legion of demons is one thing, but to harbor spirits with unfinished business just is not what Sorcery is meant for. She is nobody's spirit hotel; but she felt such a fondness for Elimond that she feels compelled to help him to become secure in his place within the afterlife.

A monument was erected to honor their memory and the unidentified bodies were cremated and placed at its foot within a large crypt. Much to her satisfaction, a great number of the spirits which inhabited her being fell silent before they peacefully slipped away from her. The voice of Elimond remained interacting with her, and he guided the Sorceress where he wished his body to be laid. The land here haunted and hallowed held members of his family who passed before him. With the body of the young boy wrapped in cloth held in her arms, Pomsty walked up the steps to the old family mausoleum which the spirit of the boy had identified, and she placed him in the tomb alongside the corpses of his mother and father.

After she secured the crypt once again she spoke to the spirit of the boy and sat down upon the stone steps there. "Don't you feel the Empyrean calling you home, Elimond? Don't you want to go and be with your parents?" She could feel them calling the boy. Pomsty twirled between her fingers, a pressed flower the boy had given her, a symbol of his budding affections. "I might have adopted you, but honestly I hadn't spent enough time with you to truly consider such a bond." Pomsty laid the flower down beside her upon the top step. "I am sorry, but it's the truth, and I must speak it. I am not keen on starting a family just yet. I knew that I loved you, only after you had died."

At her declaration the spirit of the boy suddenly demanded his freedom from her being. She watched his essence trail off into the Empyrean, where he was accepted to join a far greater light.

She hadn't realized when she began to hear the soft and sorrowful sounds of a harp being carried on the wind. It seemed quite odd indeed, and she expects the source to be intangible in a place as haunted as this. The Nightsister rose and she began to walk the meadow, trekking between the gravestones as she walked. The tone of the music grew as she went.

"Such sweet and sincere love is here," she declared aloud. She turned slowly in the onset hours of dusk, as her eyes fell not upon a rampant specter but the man Jegy Sesara in the midst of his lamentations. She must appear like a specter herself in the lite fog.

 

[Jegy Sesara]

Each strum of the harp, he felt the distance between this world and to his memory, slowly bridge together. He hated being alone, he never wished to admit it but he did. He missed the gentle touch of a lovers hand, the kind words exchanged, the nights under the stars. Slowly he felt it, that old feeling of disconnect as the Force was allowing him to relive his best memories, to allow him to see what he forgotten. What he, wished for the most.

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"Nina, I am home. Will not believe the amount of-"
"Give me a moment, Crane is crying."

The gentle whine of his child would echo through the house hold. Jegy would slowly stroll through the house as he threw off his Inquistors robe to the side, hearing it grow a bit louder as he saw Nina cradling his young boy Crane in her arms. Shushing lightly, she would look up at him as he kneeled over to the two, gently rubbing Cranes head with his two fingers.

"I think he just misses his dad. Hey there little one!"
"I think he just complains more like his father would."
"Oh come on now, I don't whine like that!"
"Oh says the destroyer of dishes!"
"They were already cracked!"
"Whatever you say doctor thick."

She giggled a bit as he leaned a bit forward to plant a kiss on the Sullustan, whom he returned as Crane would start sleeping. Giving a small nod, he would pick him up gently and place him in his cradle, feeling a gentle tug on the pant leg as she motioned him over to the bed. Going over to it, he would climb on and lay with her, giving a small smirk. Moving his right hand as he rubbed her behind the ears, pulling her a bit close.

"Now before you say anything, I am not just Doctor Thick."
"Yes you are...big ass."

He would chuckle as he looked down at her beady black eyes, enjoying every moment he spent with her...but then...

"Such Sweet and Sincere Love is Here."

The words would echo through his mind as he looked to the side, seeing a woman of purple skin that did not belong in his mind, whom had left him...betrayed him. This was not the right memory, this was not-

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A swift PWANG noise be heard as he made an off key note, his body turning quickly as he saw Pom standing far away from him. He almost looked like he seen a ghost as he breathed a bit hard, his eyes slowly trailing a bit forward to the gravestone as it finally revealed what picture was faded...what he was doing. He was repairing the photo from what he remembered, mending it...it showed the Sullustan, kneeling before his wife Nina with an arm wrapped around her with their son Crane held between the two. His wife and son...were Chadra-Fan. It was biologically impossible...yet here it was, proof in a photo on a tombstone.

The Sullustan would finally calm down as he breathed in and out slowly, looking back forward as he tried to process what was said, the voice that was Poms. He gave a small sigh as he held the harp in his right hand, his left hand slowly rubbing his forehead. Their names were on the tombstone, having died over eight hundred years ago...yet the Sullustans never had a death date, obviously standing right before them. His voice would speak up, almost haunting like as his eyes would glance slowly back to Poms, the dusk slowly shining what light it had into the Sullustans, letting his dull glossy eyes have a bit of life in them.

"We all mourn in our own unique way. Mine is to remember all the love I ever had with them...how much I saw the light, having my own family after so much hell...and then my failure, for ruining not only that chance, but for letting them die."

At that moment, he lost all control as he chucked the harp in his right hand onto the ground as it PWANGED a bit loudly with horrible notes. Breathing a bit heavy, his eyes watered as the wind would pick up nearby, blowing through the mist as if to unveil all the secrets the Sullustan laid bared. It even began to sprinkle a bit in the clouds onto them, droplets of rain...as if responding to the Sullustans emotions. He spoke out what he believed, what he knew true

"I loved them so much...I would have traded my life for theirs at any time. Instead now...I sit here, watching a grave stone. The Force is cruel to those who tempt its fate to much. Even now, I hear your voice and I see another...when I look at you, I see a glance of...a person I knew long time ago."

Pom Stych Tivé

 

[Pom Stych Tivé]

Love had never been a word the Nightsister would consider for anyone outside of her direct coven family. It is only just coming into the Grayson Imperium that she learned such relational ties could be formed with outsiders. One specific relationship which developed in private was a pivotal learning experience indeed, quickly dragging her towards her redemption. Sometimes being a Sorceress can be self destructive; she soon discovered her love interest seeking his future in someone else. Theirs is a relationship which Pom's own presence disrupted. That his withdrawal affected her at all, is truly an oddity of her nature and her upbringing. She worked to overcome how she felt about him, but his interest is also someone she holds dear to herself, as a sister, and her sister is one certainly deserving of any sacrifice she can make. So Pom Stych Tivé found herself seeking many experiences new to her being. She would never admit these surfacing cravings to anyone, especially any man, aware just how much trouble they stir up, only to walk away. The hunger they incite she can do better to survive completely without! Erected walls make life easier for survival. The intimacy shared was so very difficult for her to put behind her, as it made such a deep and necessary impression upon her to change away from who she had been. The cuts he created were very new to her.

What transpired on The Creeper during the Kuat Rebellion was a major setback for her moving forward. the same could be said for the resurfacing of Draconis Caesar, someone she directly lured to darkness through her amulets, whether he knew of her actions or not. How could she ever make reparation to him for her hand in his fate? He wasn't a Nightbrother; her ways had been alien to him, as he was a Jedi Padawan when they had met.

* * *​

Before her kneels she specter. She can see that he is none other than someone she knows. For a moment when the Sullestan looked at her as if she had been somebody else, she froze experiencing an intense emotion which could only be described as coming undone. Never in her lifespan had any man ever directly peered at her with such intense passion as Jegy Sesara held for someone else. Likely one never shall, if she has her steadfast stubborn say in it. She thought her redemption to be quite destructive at times. Then the unplanned moment occurs where she feels built up anew, and is stronger for it. This moment just immediately became more destructive than it had been only a moment before as she laid a child into his grave, a child who had secretly wanted her to never leave him, and to adopt him. It tore her heart in half how the young boy was murdered only a matter of seconds after she regained consciousness and was lead out of her own slave cell.

"I am sorry," she whispered, hoping to conceal the wave of emotion which had gripped hold of her, and for not having intended disruption of the man during his moment of mourning. Spirits, and the ethereal, they speak to the Sorceress at all moments in time. If not themselves so many, it is then the Ashla Herself who brings about their silence, shadowing Pomsty with a sound sense of inner peace, something bestowed by no other of which she is aware. "In a place like this, there are so many voices…and they ask so many things of me." The Nightsister's eyes teared, regardless her preferred stoicism. "She asks of me…"

Pomsty permitted the request of the Sullestan's Late wife to look upon him once again through eyes of the living. The spirit has things she wants him to know. The spirit leapt forth, out of the ground before her headstone and melded into the Sorceress. Pomsty stood looking back at the Sullestan, her own vision joined by this other. She likewise granted her visitor permission to advance towards her husband to make her peace with him, that he might believe she is listening, to help relieve his pain in some way, if she may.

 

[Jegy Sesara]

The Sullustan shook, almost unable to bring forth what he kept thinking through his mind. Yes, his emotions were almost always untamed when it came to those he considered family. Family was the most sacred thing he ever had...and each time, it was ripped away from him. To keep seeing the mental image of someone from his past, along with someone else entirely different was not helping his case. The droplets of rain turned from a sprinkle, to a very gentle drizzle of rain upon the pair. He could feel her emotion, he knew she shared something important as well but he barely could see past his own. Then it happened...she said "I'm Sorry."

"Don't be...it been so long ago, I been a fool to-"

Then he felt the presence, her next set of words as he froze, almost still in time as he looked back. He knew he felt her presence, it had been centuries but it felt like only yesterday and then, he looked forward. His eyes met Poms again...but he did not see the eyes of the Nightsister for he now sees, his wife. Jegys lips trembled, his entire body shook as suddenly, the rain had stopped around them. He could feel his heart pound at nearly a thousand kilometers an hour, he could not find strength to stand, he looked in disbelief as she approached him. Nina was always shorter but that gaze she gave...always made him believe that he was the short one.

"N-N-N...Ni...Ni...Ni-"
"Doctor."
"Princess."

Just saying one word, seemed to calm him down enough to respond. Slowly he got up, advancing towards her as he felt tears run down both sides of his face. He was almost in a trance as he got very close to Pom, stopping just two steps away, shaking a bit as he looked up with those dull eyes though they seemed more vibrant, no longer just a dull green, but a vibrant emerald like color. Before he could speak, she responded through Pom as he listened, his head looking down from her eyes.

"I miss you Jegy."
"I...I miss you to, so much. I come every year, I try to play you songs, I keep saying I hope to find you again, I ju-"
"Shhh...you been always a good man. Just every now and then...mislead. You know I won't ever hold what happened against you."
"But...But I failed you, you could been still in royalty, I ruined it and let you die from my own job. I was a horri-"
"And it was an adventure of a lifetime."

That stopped the Sullustans rambling, he would look back up at her eyes as his eyes went wide which was possibly humorous. He usually had big eyes but to see them somehow even got bigger, almost resembled a giant fish.

"W-What?"
"We had three long years together, the best years of my life. You always were there when I was alone, when I was down....and here you are, still doing it after nearly a millennia. I know your coming here and I still wait just as patiently as before. They all do."
"B-But...Crane, our child I-"
"He was still alive."

That stopped all forms of emotion, as if somebody told him someone had died. His son....alive?! That was something he could not believe, he saw him dead, he saw him bloodied over the floor. He was so young yet...the memory is not very clear and still refuses to be so.

"T-That's impossible. I saw him on the floor, I-"
"You saw...what they wanted to see. Search your feelings...you know our son lived."

His eyes would slowly cast down, breathing a bit harshly as he took this information a bit hard. Legs shook, his own right hand trembled as he tried to keep his emotions together. The memory was repressed, he could not understand why though but he could see it almost more clearly. He had given his son away to someone, a set of parents and then...his memory was modified. Everything came slowly into existence, his eyes casting back up as she spoke once more.

"You were never a horrible father...you knew the risk and you took the hardest path of all...making sure he never felt your pain or lived a life like yours."
"I...I know. I made that choice...and kept telling myself this lie. I never wanted him to-"
"To be like you."

The Sullustan gently nodded, looking at her eyes as he very slowly attempted to grab Poms hands, breathing a bit hard as he felt a closure of some kind, something he been grasping for many centuries. His soul felt more complete, he felt something crawling into it, replacing the pieces that were damaged of his life. He knew that it was only the spirit of Nina before him, Pom was just a guest to this conversation yet...he felt changed for the better. He felt words that never made sense slowly become sense as his tears slowly started to run dry.

"I love you Nina."
"I love you to...I will be waiting whenever it is time. Don't wear your armor for your soul."
"I don't have any armor left, remember? You stripped it from me. I-"
"I know. What I am now, whatever is left of me, I am yours. Cheesy Nolan Nond lines by the way."
"Heh...you married me on that line though."
"And I never regretted a single day. Don't forget me will you?"
"Never."

He would gently smile at Pom...maybe Pom smiled back as the clouds would seem to part above them, shining a small light over them. The spirit possibly was ready to leave, he could not know though to be true. His soul was more complete though while it left him with a new question, this part of his life...was now complete. Even the shadow the Nightsister he saw before him, the one he saw first, could not ruin this, not her hanging spirit over him.

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There is no ignorance, there is knowledge. Your Sins were not True, your Knowledge was.
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Pom Stych Tivé

 

[Pom Stych Tivé]

The bright hue among the iris of Nina's eyes left Pomsty's to pale once again when her ghost departed. The Nightsister stood waiting for Jegy Sesara to make the next move to withdraw from her, before she felt beside herself once again. Everything about her recent transformation left her acting outside of her comfort zone. She is accustomed to residing surrounded by those most like herself, those who need no such support from the grave. She often finds herself hoping those who dwell here can understand what walks among them unseen at all times. Even Cedric Grayson, his understanding of the Ashla he dotes upon, is only a portent of how Pomsty sees her to truly be.

'If only I could open their eyes permanently...'and yet she can but only for a moment such as this. Their memory fades again as time passes, and she sees them saddened and wanting as before. If only she could prove her world to them, but then would not the gods soon become too common and unimportant among the thoughts of men, who make demands on what they wish to receive from their gods just like they do the fabled Santa Claus?

That which Pomsty herself seeks, she seeks not from gods. Can she truly let go of her pride and expectations enough to become as the clay which her redemption requires? That possibility has not even crossed her mind. Something is lacking. Something always has been. But whatever it is she knows not. Just when she comes across a thing which grasps her attention, a thing which she hails as a fantastic development, again this sensation returns, like the sadness others feel longing for those beyond the grave. Some sense of longing for completeness is all she can liken it to be.

She gave up Elimond's ghost. How though does one give up their own ghost? Her past calls out to her daily, to be who and what she was fashioned to be by the very hands of her gods. Pomsty has suppressed her darker tendencies since coming to dwell among these Jedi. Every demon that was once part of her screams for her to again receive them into herself to be one again. This knowledge became the one certainty which supports the fact she cannot deny, she does not belong here among these pure people. Redemption simply is not some thing a Nightsister undergoes.

She wondered wether she would stop them, if they came to claim her.

And then...something surely did manifest around her with the intent to do just such a thing, only it was not her demons.

"Help me?" she begged of Jegy with tears welling in her eyes. The Angel which she had enslaved into a pouch and whom Loske Treicolt had released on Tython found its way to her once again. Her enemy; or is it truly?

She felt the presence of this particular Angel only for a second, as it quickly approached her with the vengeance of an accompanying League, and sprang forth from the ground beneath her feet. The Nightsister cried out as her body roiled in resistance as the Angelic beings swarmed and tore at her flesh. She cried out in anguish, helpless to defend herself caught so suddenly unprepared. She found herself lifted off her heels and tumbling through the air at their whim. Thoughts of the sins of her lifetime swam through her mind, so many she regretted today, but would not have had she never met the Jedi and been on the road to redemption. Her judgement lie within the very hands of the enemy she had enslaved and forced to do her bidding. Had Loske not messed up the Incantation to return the Angel to its prison, it never would have gotten its chance at revenge today. It testified as a direct witness to so many of Pomsty's sins committed in secrecy. She is most certainly guilty.

Pomsty identifies with her guilt. "Don't try and stop them," she whispered next to Jegy, defeat ringing in her tone. 'Perhaps it is best,' she thought, 'just to surrender and die today.'

Her heartfelt statement was not received by daft ears. The Angels tore at her Soul and suddenly the Nightsister found herself staring back into her own face. There are haughty eyes, while her own suddenly felt peace. Her mouth fell agape as she looked upon her own palpable Darkness, while she feels herself reveling among the light.

Pomsty staggered backwards from her Doppelgänger, confusion swarming within her thoughts. She watched as her likeness was greeted by the demons which she regularly pushed aside. They swarmed her double and finally became united with that witch again, appearing as black smoke being sucked into the witch's mouth. The Angels of Light held onto their exorcised Pomsty, protecting her and Jegy from attack, while this evil which they tore from her Soul laughed as she stepped into the Darkness of the Netherworld, free to live as she wills. Pomsty visually trembled as she let her knees slip out from under her stance. Sitting upon the ground she felt a great sense of peace wash over her being, like she is in some Holy place. The feelings she became left with, she deemed remarkable. Her malcontent vanished with the exodus of her Doppelgänger.

The League of Angels faced Pomsty and bowed to her. "Spasa," they said, as a momentarily blinding light tore apart the heavens overhead, and they vanished into it.

"Spasa..."

 

[Jegy Sesara]

Silence was all there was. It was strange for it to be quiet in a graveyard, between two people. Letting go of Pom Stych Tivé hands slowly after Ninas spirit had left her, he would step back just a little and watch her with silence. She seemed deep in thought, though of what, he had not known. His own thoughts wrapped into his own mind however...his son lived during that time, how long though did he live for? He had to find out, to trace a linage though...there was always a chance it had been wiped out. He prayed his son had a peaceful end, not a violent one as expected from their particular line.

Before he can process any more questions, he heard that one phrase. "Help Me?" He turned, seeing the tears in Poms eyes as this creature had come towards her. His eyes would widen as he turned to watch it, his right hand outstretched though he hates to admit it...this was once, beyond his understanding. For eight hundred years over, he had seen the worst of the dark side, seen the light of those who seek understanding, seen the wild of the Force in others. This was the first time...he had ever encountered what these strange creatures were and now, he wondered if he can even stop it.

'Get away from her!"

His voice had deepened, with that authority and with that venom he knew deep in his soul. His right hand would open as Force Light would be unleashed upon those before them. The Angels themselves, trying to distance them away from Pom though he felt that pain again, that darkness that ebbed and started to crack upon his own skin. It was burning him once more but now it felt worse, as if being redirected. Plus these spirits seemed to be feeding off of it, going faster or seeming to glow. They were of the Light Side of the Force and all he was doing now, was harming himself. Stopping, he tried to think of what to do till Pom gave her order. Don't try to stop it?

This perplexed the Sullustan badly as he watched her flesh tearing apart her skin, shaking his head as he could not stand by and watch this going on over and over again. Her screams filled his mind, it was not an easy thought in his mind as he heard the screaming of someone else in the distance. Holding up his right hand again, now blackened by the use of Force Light, he would focus on the force as small wave came out over his hand as it was of Force Healing. It gently grabbed onto pieces of her torn flesh, gently weaving them back together as each piece of damage they did to her, he refused to let it be the last one. He kept focused for as long as this took, taking the time to numb any pain as he felt it instead. It was not something he liked but he was very hardy of a person, yet he could not stop the thoughts that invaded his soul. The feeling of someone else...then it happened. She saw something pulled out of her body, as if it ripped into her soul!

There was a doppelganger, something completely different, something unreal to his eyes that he had foreseen. It reeked of the Dark Side, did it come from her? Then the Nether, he knew that feeling way to damn well, he heard the cries inside the Nether of souls he had to fight, the souls he had missed. Then as quickly as it appeared, the angels seemed to push her into the Nether, that laughter echoing through as he held up his right hand but the Nether now closed before them. Spasa...Spasa...what does that mean? The Angels ascended above, leaving the two on the ground as his eyes were wide as saucer plates. What did he just witness? What kind of mag-POM! Turning quickly, he would look at the nightsister as quickly kneel beside her, speaking a bit out loud.

"Pom? Pom are you okay? What just happened, what...please tell me you can speak, your mind is not addled. Please...don't be gone."

 

[Spasa]

The witch had heard Jegy Sesara fighting for her endurance, and felt his tug which seemed to be mending her flesh as quickly as the Angels tore at her. She did not know what his skills had been, and here he had stepped in to help her.

At the sound of emotion in his voice when he spoke to her, at first all she could do is nod while she caught her breath. She raised her hand to grip his arm, and give him a hearty squeeze to signify she is alright.

The echo of the words of the League still boomed inside her head. 'What does it mean?' she wondered. 'Spasa.'

There is no denying how she felt after the conclusion of the whole ordeal. Freed, relieved, content somehow. Not everyone gets the chance to experience seeing their mirror self become truly manifested in all their known misery, turn and walk away from themselves, and know that you yourself are better off for it having happened that way. The witch felt suddenly completely and wonderfully redeemed. It finally all made sense, everything everyone else was struggling to teach her. Her thoughts felt expanded this moment.

She looked across at Jegy content to just sit still and feel the life radiating forth from within herself, from him, from the land, the sky...the Empyrean! She eventually slid her palm down his arm she gripped hold of his hand, raised his fingertips to her lips and lightly kissed them as a gesture of thanks for all he had undergone for her sake. Never before had she truly felt her surroundings to be so deeply steeped in the Ashla as she felt surround her during this moment of her existence. While she held onto Jegy's hand, with the other she rubbed her thumb and fingertips together and the pure energy she felt pour forth from her own being, and emanated between herself and Jegy, and their complete surroundings, it astounded her. She laughed with sheer satisfaction.

"Always before there was this little voice that stopped me, soiled everything with doubt, with self denial. It was all just...torn out of me and pushed away; like that!" Her smile grew even more. The look on her face which she cast at this moment, never before had she bore, for there never had been a reason!

 

[Jegy Sesara]

The Sullustan felt the squeeze on his arm as to signify that she was alright. Breathing a sigh of relief, he would make sure to examine her in whole around her body, being slow but meticulous on injury thought. She seemed to not have any broken bones, nor any more open wounds thankfully though he felt something else. There was tranquility in the air, he could not perhaps explain it very well beforehand. But he felt her hand slide down, his body going completely still as he just stopped moving whatsoever. For a very brief moment, he was transported back in time he felt like, back to when he was just a teenager, under the large moon of Tatooine.

His hand was touched, at this point at any time, alarm bells would go off in his mind. This to him was sacred in a more relaxed tone but he could not seem to bring himself to say something about it. His mind was still processing what was going on beforehand and now he saw another being in front of him. No longer did the Sullustan see the Inquistor, he now saw the Sun and it felt...great. Then he felt it, the one thing he had not felt anywhere in a very long time...the lips, something kissing him, mainly his fingers and it finally just shut the Sullustan down mentally. His legs gave way as he twisted his body to sit beside her, mind out cold as his eyes just had a glaze of happiness. Spasa AKA Pom did what very few done to Jegy...break his mind and made him forget nearly everything around him, exposing him completely, making him entirely defenseless.

Then she laughed, it made the Sullustan understand a bit more of what was going on as his mind slowly cleared. He saw this pure energy brought forth between them which again, brought many questions. Watching it, he would gently raise his free hand up to touch it, feeling a sense of freedom he had not had since he was so young. Her words echoed into his mind, how this voice stopped her in doubt, self denial and here she was...happy. Perhaps he can learn something from this about himself, how those little voices in his own mind, make him miserable and perhaps, he needed to listen to those around him, not at himself.

At that moment, for the first time in over eight hundred years, he spoke with his real voice. It sounded slightly rough, as if Basic was not the first language. There was no gentleman like voice anymore, it sounded as if his voice had been strained by injury, yet it sounded innocent. The voice could only be compared to perhaps a singer down on his luck, someone who hid from all around to hide from what he believed, was the worst of himself.

"You are smiling...no longer forced. It is an image that I shall never forget. Be proud of no longer having doubt of yourself, for you are now you. Pray tell though...if you are now in two, what name is it shall you bear? What you were born with or what you wish to become?"

 

[Spasa]

She absentmindedly cocked her head to the side with curiosity when Jegy Sesara plopped down beside her, hearing him drop his preferred persona as his voice strained with his audible thoughts. She never realized he would understand, but he does! It felt good to know someone was here with her when she should undergo such a profound transformation. It was different this time than what happened before when she asked Loske to show her the Ashla. It completed what had only then begun. Yet, long ago during that time, even the slightest transformation seemed so very profound in contrast to the Darkness she wielded, that it felt like surely she had achieved the end result of redemption then!

"If I could lock the memory of this moment away within a vial, I most certainly would!" she exclaimed. She allowed her shoulders to slink back as she laid down upon the grass on her back peering up at the beauty of the sky, knowing there is an alternate dimension peering back down at them...here, and everyone else everywhere. It was comforting. She hoped that if she or anyone she has come to love within her lifetime, -in this faction, her last, or her next if need be,- ever needs what she was gifted with here today, that they too shall have it!

Without a moment to think on who she is anew, the word was practically drawn from her lips as if by the Ashla, "Spasa," she crooned. "And I have no idea what it means." It just fits. Her Dathomiri upbringing did not waste time on universal languages. Her people always felt themselves superior for preserving their heritage and not becoming caught up in the ways of the off-worlders. She simply felt something magickal in speaking it. She felt that she came to face with her own salvation today. The very value of life seemed to extend beyond what she previously comprehended of it. Her own seemed to take on new meaning, and she felt kinship with others whom she had not permitted herself to commune with previously. "Tomorrow shall surely bring new adventures, Jegy. I hope you received what you needed from this place as well."

 

[Jegy Sesara]

His mind was very slow to clearing and rightfully so, it may take him half an hour to just get his mind right where he needed it. His cautious nature was abandoned for simplicity, the Sullustans hand was not firm but very gentle. What he was now, was what molded him before such terrible events changed him. Then, he gave a very small but gentle smile on her words about locking away a memory. He had to say what was on his mind, for he had done that more than anyone else.

"You will never forget such a memory. Hold it tight and it shall remain with you forever."

He would glance back forward as he looked around, actually forgetting they were in such a gloomy place, a graveyard. A place for mourning, for sadness, for such redemption. Here, redemption was given and with it, the place became something blissful, things those in graves wish for others. How strange it was truly, to be given that chance once again on the surface. To those, of the living. Then he heard it, that word, Spasa . With that, he gave a very gentle nod at her, still smiling as he spoke again with that voice, the injury seeming to be less now, as if somewhat healed.

"The name shall give weight to what you make of it. As you say, tomorrow brings all new things, new adventures...things that I had not looked forward to in a very long time. I have received my peace from Nina...but there are others but that...that was the one haunt me the most. Thank you Spasa, one of light and happiness. My soul is no longer tortured by regret, now it is a soul of searching once more. Purpose is now my goal and with it, time to use purpose properly instead of moping around."

 

[Spasa]

Only a moment passed with her loving the feel of the thick grass under her body as she rested sprawled upon the ground, before Spasa sat up and abruptly turned towards Jegy Sesara . "I am so sorry! You just found out your son is alive? I will help you find him, any way that I can!" Losing little Elimond herself, and knowing that the worst part of her being forced the boy's spirit to pass on because of telling him something hurtful, and it had been only partly the truth: she had been aware that she loved him while he was still alive, but it was her stubbornness for some sense of familiarity and routine to remain in her life after so many drastic changes, that made her willingly have no time for children of her own; in that sense, she did not permit herself to love the child as much as he wanted and needed to be loved.

The witch reached into her suede pouch hung at her waste and withdrew an Amulet, forged of silver and etched by her very own hands. She held it out to Jegy. So far Loske and Cyr were both in possession of one each their own. "You helped me. We hardly know one another. This is a way of magickally calling upon me, whenever you should need my help." Little would hold her back! Should her intercession be required, she could cast a spell of assistance from anywhere, or even materialize physically. Draconis Caesar had one of her Amulets when he crashed upon Tython, when she sensed his presence and helped him.