Public Library of the Lost

[Madalena deWinter]

A random planet, somewhere in mid-rim.

From a distance, the Library looked like a half-forgotten ruin. Arches of pale stone threaded through with ivy that shimmered faintly under the light, walls that shifted their hues to match the time of day, and doors that appeared only when someone truly needed one. Some said it was older than writing, that it had appeared for the first time when the first sentient species still used their faecal matter to paint on walls. Millions of years had since passed, and still it existed, changing ever so slightly with time to accommodate for changing technology.

The air inside carried the scent of old paper and that moment just before rain starts falling. Feint illumination came from the books and scrolls themselves, quiet pulses of bioluminescent script that glowed softly across shelves that reached impossibly high. Staircases rearranged themselves like as though they were thinking, leading wanderers toward whatever they most needed to find or were least ready to face.

Footsteps sank into plush carpets patterned like constellations. A single cup of steaming tea might be found waiting on a desk, even if no one remembered leaving it there.

The Library had no librarians, not really. Sometimes a figure might appear, a kindly old woman, a child made of ink, a droid with feathers instead of joints… But rarely did any of them speak with the visitors.

Today, Madalena deWinter was a visitor. She arrived at the library close to sunset, and the doors opened as though they had been waiting. She knew she would not be the only one there. Far from it. The library attracted visitors from near and far, and not everyone needed a map to find their way there.

She didn't even know what she was looking for.

She didn't need to.

Glowing green eyes took the entrance in and she sighed. Maybe today she would meet new people. Or find ancient tomes. Perhaps nothing would happen, and ten minutes from now, she would be going home, wherever that was.

The night would unfold at its own pace.

 

[Darth Virelia]

"A New Page."

Tag - Madalena deWinter

The scent of ozone and old paper twined together like lovers as the doors stirred, whispering on their hinges.

Virelia entered without hesitation. She had never been here before, and yet the Library greeted her as though it had been built for her hand alone. Shadows seemed to lean toward her as she passed, like creatures hoping to be touched. The faint hum of the shelves—the soft, sleeping rhythm of knowledge—rose subtly in her wake.

Tyrant's Embrace caught the light like wet obsidian, the alchemized plates breathing faint violet at their seams, faint arcs of Force lightning chasing idle patterns across the metal as if her armor were dreaming. Her stride was deliberate, the click of her boots an unspoken metronome of command. Every motion she made seemed both art and threat; the slow, elegant precision of a creature who owned the air she walked through.

The Library responded. Stairs folded downward to meet her path. Tomes unlatched themselves with the faint sigh of skin parting under a blade. Somewhere above, a thousand candles flared to life without flame.

"Memory is an infection," she murmured, her voice low and sonorous, echoing faintly against the impossibly tall shelves. "And this place… is terminal."

The corner of her mouth curved.

She trailed one gauntleted finger along a nearby shelf, the touch leaving a faint violet trace that pulsed once before fading. The books nearest her opened in response—hundreds of pages fluttering, offering themselves wordlessly. She smiled faintly, lips painted like venom. "Eager," she observed. "But not what I came for."

Her attention shifted—six mechanical lenses of burning amethyst settling upon the other presence in the room. A woman with green eyes, poised between curiosity and uncertainty.

"Funny," Virelia said softly, head tilting. "I did not expect to find a soul here whose pulse still carries purpose."

She approached without hurry, as if the space between them existed purely for her to cross. The armor whispered with each step, alive and predatory.

When she stopped, close enough that the faint electric aura of the Embrace brushed against Madalena's skin, her smile sharpened.

"Tell me," Virelia purred. "Do you come here to learn… or to remember what you've tried to forget?"

 

[Madalena deWinter]

Madalena's heart skipped several beats once she had allowed the library to engulf her. The smell of dust and old books wrapped around her like a fur coat of warm memories, throwing her mind back to a past that no longer existed. It had been so long since she had been home, but that home no longer existed. There was nothing to go back to.

Instead, it was the present that carried the weight of her concerns, her dreams, and her hopes. A present in which she had no rooted home to speak of, but a ship that could carry her almost anywhere she wished. A decade beyond the galaxy's edge had not been enough to quench her thirst for knowledge of what else could be out there, and what else she could find within.

Perhaps… Perhaps this was why she had come here. To find guidance, or even clues. It was rare that Madalena found herself without a direct and clear purpose in life. After all, she had been summoned into this dimension a decade and a half ago in order to give sharp senses and knowledge into a body that had never belonged to her.

Those days were long over though. She had her own body now, and had used it to bring chaos and destruction. First upon the enemies of others, and then upon those who had made themselves her enemies. And now… Now she lacked the purpose, missed that sense of knowing what she was going to do. That tangible awareness of what her goal was.

Floating around was a solution for her twin sister. Madalena… Was called the Dark Paladin. She had always been the order within the chaos. And recently, she felt like she had become neither.

The red glow of her scars lit up momentarily as the stranger ( Darth Virelia ) approached. She could feel them, not knowing whether it was warning or delight. Still, she hushed them, dimmed them. Their light was not required now. The glow of her eyes was more than enough.

"I remember everything," she answered with sincerity, losing the tome in her hands that she had, funnily enough, forgot she had ever picked up. No. Memory had never been a problem. If problems she wanted, the potential danger of the other woman, now so close that she could feel the tingling in her skin pulse, could very much be that problem.

But it didn't have to be.

Madalena stood her ground, knowing better than to flow into a defensive position. If the other woman wished to posture, wished to make herself so known, she would let her. The Dark Paladin had led combatants before, both into battle and into other dimensions, and back again. She had fought, she had trained, she had shed blood. She had been stronger than anyone ever needed her to be. In that regard, she didn't feel as though anything had changed.

"You have an offer," she noted, her voice, whilst calm, still deep and rich like a fine red wine, "or an ask," she added. Which of the two, it did not entirely matter, "you are welcome to make it."

Of course, if she was wrong, and the woman wanted the pulse in her throat instead… It would be a fight. And for that, the Sith Sorceress was always ready as well.

 

[Darth Virelia]

"A New Page."

Tag - Madalena deWinter

Virelia's laughter was quiet—soft as the friction of silk against skin, intimate and knowing. It seemed to come not from her throat but from the Library itself, as though the air had chosen to echo her amusement.

"How refreshing," she murmured. "A woman who remembers."

Her tone lingered on the word, tasting it. The light of the shelves dimmed as if to listen. She stepped closer, and the subtle scent of ozone gave way to something warmer—violets, myrrh, and the faint static of the Dark Side breathing through her armor.

"I find most creatures come here trying to bury themselves in forgetting," she continued, her head tilting slightly as her violet eyes traced the contour of Madalena's jaw. "The past terrifies them because it stains—and stains are difficult to remove. But you wear yours like lacquer."

One gloved hand rose, not quite touching, her fingers hovering just shy of Madalena's cheek, the air between them tense with potential. "And yet… you are adrift, for who opens a conversation by asking for another to lend one's hand? A believer without an altar. A mind like a blade without a cause to cut for."

There was no pity in her voice—only fascination. She drew a slow breath, and the seams of her armor shimmered faintly in rhythm, arcs of violet energy pulsing like veins beneath glass.

"I have seen this before," Virelia said, her voice a low cadence that blurred command and seduction. "Those who live by certainty eventually find its end unbearable. Purpose is an addiction, and withdrawal leaves the most exquisite scars."

Her lips under the mask curved into a thin, dangerous smile. "But I have a cure."

The shelves behind her trembled faintly, as though stirred by her will. Several tomes rose, suspended in the air—each etched in languages too ancient for translation. "The Library yields to those who deserve it," she said. "And it does not open itself twice to the same seeker. You came here searching for something you cannot name. Perhaps… me."

Now her hand did touch—one gloved finger tracing the faint crimson scar at Madalena's collar, following it upward until it nearly reached her throat. "You're correct," Virelia whispered. "I have an offer. But not one made with words alone."

The Library exhaled again, the sound almost like a heartbeat.

"Walk with me," she said, turning just enough for her eyes to catch the green in Madalena's. "If you dare to see what waits for those who do not forget."

 

[Madalena deWinter]

Darth Virelia

---

The meeting between the women was certainly a refreshing one. Madalena had become accustomed to… Different things. Wilder things, louder moments that connected her with others. This woman in front of her did not have a volume that hurt the ears. It was quite the opposite; not silent, but wide, in a manner that engulfed one's senses from the inside, with whisps and curls of her presence coating the interior with something stickier than tar.

Madalena couldn't deny she found it almost unbearably alluring, with a dash of exciting.

She let her view her jaw, her face. There was no shame in it. The scars sometimes glowed with their own feint red, a reminder of the time Madalena had grasped an altar of witches that had been sent into another dimension, hurling through space and time along with it only to blow it up without having any protective wear on her head. She had succeeded in that mission, and had lost of her face in the process, in the most literal sense of the word. Getting her skin back on her bones had been one of the most painful series of surgeries she had ever gone through, and even now, the scars lingered on every piece of skin that had not been protected.

But there was no shame in them. Quite the opposite. Some would say that she was no longer the great beauty she had once been, before that day. Madalena disagreed. If anything, when she looked in the mirror, what she saw was the face of a woman for whom time no longer existed.

And now, the other woman offered a cure. A cure for the lost woman that Madalena had become since returning to the galaxy proper.

Oh, but this was delicious.

The Sith Sorceress was very well aware of the attempt. The seduction. She would not fall blindingly into it, but with her glowing eyes wide open, seeing everything, and putting her hand in the other woman's hand willingly.

Because ultimately, it was true. Perhaps Madalena had been searching for her, even if she didn't know entirely what it entailed. But where the other woman plied her seduction with beautiful words, the Sithling felt no need to repeat in volume or quota. She allowed her to touch her without offering resistance, allowing her body to feel the happy tremors that the contact gave.

And then she smiled, and gave her a single nod in consent. They would walk together. She would learn what the stranger had to offer.

But before she took the first step, she turned her attention to the library, and nodded to it in thanks, for giving her what was perhaps exactly what she had been looking for, without a name, without words to specify.