Public Master of Illusions

[Jaren Labnith]

Jaren sat upon hus gilded throne in the halls of Labnith. His tall blond hair rising as a crown, and in his hand a scepter with an orb he jostled into the perfect white marble ground. The Court was busy with jubilance, the never ending carnival of cafe free enjoyment. All Jaren felt was the toll of time, he had lived for a thousand life times, and marveled at mortals who cried out for His Curse. If only they would understand, to live forever was a cruel jest, to watch everyone and everything you love die.

The galaxy had been wiped of the traces of his kind, well this galaxy. Those old gods only were invoked in rituals of sorcerors, particularly Uncle Typhojem. A cranky Squid that one, and yet he had a way with tricks he had tried to master.

No, the galaxy was not old bu his standards. It was full of primitives battling for supremacy among the stars. He found it amusing, they called their power The Force, he knew it as something else, ah well best not to disturb the teachings of their religions, mortals do not abide those who meddle with the creeds that make sense of a senseless existance. Jaren chuckled regardless at their attempts to rationalize their fleeting moments. All their virtues and vices were quite childish, save one, love. How these primitives had stumbled on the one thing worth living for, worth dying for made Jaren pause and decide to introduce himself to the galaxy.

He would take the form of a Prince, his golden locks his royal crown, and his ornate dress a sign of his refinement. The question was where to make an entrance? He held the orbs of many worlds in his hand, swiping through them. A ashen planet called Korriban would not do, his clothes would ruin, the desert world of Tatooine was harsh, his skin may part and wrinkle, then he came upon a lush world of greenery and fine marble stone abodes, The Naboo, the people were dressed in elegant attire, he would fit in there.

“Marblo!”

A Short Goblin looking creatues approached with twisted horns and bug blue eyes.

“My Lord.”

Jaren rose from his throne, holding the orb of Naboo.

“I am going on a trip. Prepare the royal yacht.”

Marblo bowed, and left the throne room. The Royal Yacht was a Star Sail, an opulent pearl vessel with yellow jasper sails, and tprquiose thrusters. Aboard Jaren sat on Dais that overlooked the stars, they aporoached the Naboo system in record time. The Yacht descended down through the clouds, and landed at port, where an envoy of Naboo Royals and Guards met him.

Jaren was suprised, his bkue caroet with gilded edges unfurled. Marblo walked before him dropping white flowers as the Master of Illusions met this entourage.

“Most curious, I was not aware my arrival was heralded.”

A Woman in fine purple dress, with partially painted red lip, bowed.

“Our Seerer fortold your coming, The Queen welcomes you to Naboo.”

Jaren smiled as he held up his black glove to his cheek, sapphires and robes sparkling in the knuckles.

“Tell your Queen that I am in her debt for such a welcome has not graced me in many years.”

The Handmaiden bowed her head.

“The Queen wishes to invite you to Dinner, and offers lodging in the Palace.”

Jaren smiled, these mortals were outstanding. He wondered if the Naboo was offspring of his kin, their manners so flawless.

“I accept this invitation, happily”

He tilted his head forward in a slight bow. The Handmaiden offered her hand, and he took it as the walked beneath the jade green domes of this beautiful world. The brillabtly hewen stones formed bridges over rushing rivers, and all about was trees that swayed in the gentle wind among the marble buildings. Arriving at some quarters, Jaren was left to freshen up before the Dinner. He simply waved his hand and his outfir changed to white with golden accents, an exposed chest where necklaces of hold and a white stong hung. He applid fresh mascara of ivory with golden tempera brows, and applied some lipstick of gold to his lips.

Arriving at the Dinner, there was a long great emerald colored wood table with silver trays in circular form. At the end was a oval throne, and upon it was a young woman in black dress, her hair raised in the shape of fan, great golden chains with orbs fell from her headress, and all about her was maidens in white.

“Your Highness.”

Jaren bowed with his right boot inching behind his left heel, his arms stretching out and his golden head descendinf low like a swan.

The Queen rang cymbal and food was brought out and placed on table.

“Welcome To Naboo Celestial Jaren.”

Rising up to his former place, Jaren was puzzled by this address, Celestials was a crude term for his people, most of which has been banished from this galaxy long ago. More alarming was how a mortal knew what he was, an Immortal that some called god, others demon.

“You may be seated. Please eat.”

The Queen’s manner was pleasent, so Jaren took his seat on a silver chair that sparkled like a mirror. A plate of fine delicacies was brought to him, when as he partook another Maiden entered, she was dressed in dark robes, his hair finest white, the locks braided as if tentacles, and her mouth was moist with big lips, her eyes grey and her skin flawless. Jaren eyed her as she bowed fo The Queen.

“My Queen, pardon my tardiness.”

The Queen motioned for her to sit down beside her, when she said,

“This is my Seer Abigail.”

When Jaren locked eyes with her he saw a vision of a tentacle creature with oily jaws and testh that former a crown all along the jaw. Abigail smiled at The Guest, her eyes fixed on him.

Jaren took a goblet and nearly coughed on the spirit. It eas her.. how had she? Of all the planets and centuries.

The Meal passed and Jaren retired. His room overlooked a waterfall, and candles & laterns were lit to give the outside terrace a whimsical feel. Leaning on the railing, Jaren sighed, he was contemplating leaving.

There was a gust of wind, and csndles went out, only the latern burned. Jaren took it up and entered the room, laying on the bed was The Seerer, she was in a grey night gown.

“How long has it been? Six eons. My Jaren, you as handsome as the day we almost married..”

Jaren squinted those painted lids.

“Get out of my bed.”

Abigail rose up as a puff of smoke, and stepped with her bear feet.

“You did not miss me? I have thought of you. Even when I played with those Skywalkers.”

Jaren rolled his eyes.

“You are cold vacuum madam, the day I left you was to abandon the frost.”

Abigail laugjed revealing sharp fangs like Firaxen teeth that spread across the bottom of her face.

“Oh Jaren, do not be so dramafic. You know wec are meant to be.”

She placed her fingers at his cheeks, they dripped ink and wiggled as if tongues.

“We are the last of our kind my darling, your other prospects are dead or banished.”

Jaren turned his head.

“There is other possibilities.”

Abigail laughed,

“Mortals? Ha.. they are weak and incapable of ascending to our needs..”

Jaren turned back to her,

“They know how to love, which is something Madam you could never do.”

Abigail mouth opened so widly it was as if the chin descended to her bosom.

“You never gave me a chance to love you! You left me at the altar!”

Jaren turned and made a fist, swirling white light in the shape of orbs orbited it.

“You are incapable of love! Your nature is madness!”

Abigail lunged, great tentacles of black swirling from her spine.

“Love is madness Jaren! Have you not seen? The galaxy is full of these parasites who die for affection, who caste themselves on a blade to know a soft touch.”

Reaching again she touched Jaren’s cheek.

“We could show them.. what love and chaos can be. Together we could shape this galaxy, make things the way we eant them to be.”

Jaren turned his head away.

“Don’t spurn me Jaren, I have been lonely for so long an age..”

Jaren looked back into her black eyes, her Firaxen mouth looked sad, her eyes telling the ssme tale his own did.

Leaning he kissed her forhead, and she lowered her head on his bare chest.

“I tell you what my Queen of the Stars, I will consider your offer on one condition.”

Abigail looked up at him and smiled widly.

“If there be no mortal woman who my heart hearkens to, we shall wed and do as you envison. However, if my affection can be found to reside in mortal clay, you will retreat to World Between The Worlds and leave this galaxy be..”

Abigail smiled.

“Agreed. Though know I intend to sample the fruit of our coming wedlock.”

Her tongue stretched out as a tendril of black, licking his face.

“I will share a kiss, nothing more, that is the accord.”

Abigail smiled as Jaren’s face became shrouded in white light and hers in oily shadow that met and swirling together.

 

[Jaren Labnith]

In the morning Jaren went to a mirror etched in emerald wood. His face was shimmering with eternal youth, but his blue eyss betrayed a heaviness of so many centuries. Not far from where he stood Abigail laid in his bed. She had kept her promise, all they did was kiss, and yet she would not leave him. Loneliness was a constant for their kind, in a galaxy of mortals and morons. He understood the solace she found in his presence, the opposite was true for him. Her dark aura, that void that bles from her lips and swam in her eyes was a plague to him. She was a consumer, and he wanted someone who shared. To have struck a bargain with the Queen of Stars was foolhardy, but Jaren knew it was the only way to keep her from trapping him in one of her astral cells. He needed time to find the love of eons and The Reward.

Abigail stirred, rising up from the sheets as a serpent.

“Good morning my love.”

Jaren felt her wrap her hands around his waist and constrict.

“Good morning.”

She leaned her head on his back, her long jaggid teeth bearing.

“The Queen will expect me at the proceedings today.”

Jaren adjusted his teal collar and black coat with topaz gems and silver pauldrons. He intended to explore this world, alone.

“I suppose we will have to see each other tonight.”

She pawed at his hand.

Jaren made light mumble.

Turning him to face her, Abeloth extended her long tongue ans licked his cheek.

“You be good while I am gone.”

Jaren found that amusing coming from her.

Free of the Queen of Stars, Jaren made his way to a garden in a square where fountains flowed, white roses vines about as if ivy, and he plucked one ans begab to snuff the bud, taking in the scent, which was like lemons. It was in this moment he caught sight of a Lady in Larimae blue dress sitting on a stone bench with a canvas, aisle, and brushes. He came to her side and saw she was capturing the roses with exceptional talent.

“Impressive. You use pait and brush, I have not seen that in an age.”

The Women leaned, dipping the brush in water, and saying,

“The old way captures what screens cannot. You have to become one with the elements, bending them into shape. Technology is a barrier.”

Jaren smiled, he took a seat beside her, his long coat furling over.

“I quite agree. All the advances mortals have made, and nothing has yet surpassed the old masters and the purist ingredients.”

She turned to eye him, his face radiating a handsomeness that no doubt could woo or charm most ladies. Yet in her countenance was a deep sorrow that he could not hide with his sparkle.

“You plucked a rose, why?”

Jaren tilted his head, her question struck him. Holding the bud in his hand and considered.

“I wanted to smell it.”

Dipping her brush, she replied,

“If that were true, you could have leaned into the flower and sampled it. You plucking it shows your entitlement. By plucking you kill it, robbing others of its joy.”

The words of the Painter were like barbs ans yet she was not wrong. He had not considered why he felt compelled to take it. Then he felt a reply stirr in his mihd and go to his lips.

“These roses are already dying. Whither I pluck them or not, they all will decay.”

The Lady nodded.

“True. You have a quick wit..”

He interjected, “Jarren.”

“Jarren. I am Solstia.”

He smiled.

“Beautiful name.”

She laid down her brush, and examined her work.

“Would you like this painting? I never keep a canvas, once it is painted I discard it.”

Jarren nodded.

“I would gladly take your master work.”

She sighed as she rose, and began to pack up her paints. She then handed the canvas to Jarren.

“I do not seek to master, merely to paint.”

With those words she carried off her aisle and box of brushes. Jarren sat there rather stupefied. He looked at the roses she had so captured and gave a smirk.

 

[Jaren Labnith]

The Master of Illusions returned to his villa, placing the paijting of roses on a marble mantel. It was then he felt hands like tongues cover his eyes.

“I missed you today, my love.”

The voice was a dread to him. He turned to see Abigail with that over bite smirk, not hiding her self as she was prone to do among mortals.

Jaren sighed.

“I suspect your meeting went well with The Queen.”

Abeloth gritted her teath which then shrunk to black lips.

“Oh yes, an execution.”

Jaren took a crystal glass and poured some red into it. He took a seat near her, his coat furling.

“An execution? You must be elated.”

The Queen of Star nodded, she leaned on setee couch, hear head curving over the arm to his hand, which he stroked her dark locks instinctively, even though it was against his better judgment.

“Yes, he violated Naboo Law, and I advised her Majesty to give him a memorable death.”

The Master of Illusions grimaced as he sipped the vintage. He knew that her capacity for torment was boundless.

“And?”

Abeloth leaned more onto his hand and looked up.

“I have arranged a duel.”

Jaren squinted.

“A duel?”

Abigail kissed his cheek leaving an ink imprint of lips in an oval.

“Yes! I want you to be my champion.”

Jaren rose up in his chair, Abeloth having to adjust lest her head hit the arm.

“Why have you brought me into this?! I do not know this mortal, and I have little fondness for carving flesh as you do!”

The Queen of Stars rose in fury, her tentacles pawing at him.

“A reward for your Gardening..”

He turned to look at her now black oil eyes.

“That was innocent! She is innocent!”

Looking at the artwork, Abeloth slithered and lifted the canvas turning the white roses black with the touch of hed tendril.

“You like her.. that is enough.”

Jaren began to call orbs of light and swirl them in circles.

“If you harm her.. I will..”

Abigail lunged and grabbed his arms with her serpentine hands.

“You will what? My dear, we have a deal..”

Jaren eyed her with burning blue eyes.

“I remind you that I am under our pact permitted to find a mortal that suites me!”

Abeloth hissed,

“Is this painter the One?”

Jaren stepped back.

“That remains to be seen. Any contravention of our agreement makes it null and void.”

Abeloth let him go.

“Always a rule follower, I will play along until I no longer enjoy it. You will duel this man, at the cry of the Lark.”

Jaren made his eyes return to their former glow.

“Very well Madam, now leave my villa in all due haste! I tire of your company.”

The Queen of Stars slithered to kiss his cheek.

“When wed we are Jaren, I will possess you and no longer will you speak to me thus!”

With that she left and Jaren was able to enjoy the quiet solitude. He was in her web, the one he had cut himself from eons ago. His thoughts drifted towards a plan to escape, but he had given his word and unlike her, that meant something.

 

[Jaren Labnith]

The Lark sang and Jaren stepped into a great field, the hilsl rolling with green, there an entourage of the Queen with banners of yellow and seats. As he approached he saw Abigail who gave a wink. Jareb sat foot on the grass gilded patch, and being brought for was a man with chains wrapped around grey armor, his mask was was peculiar, the shape of a pole with a cross beam at the top. The Queen of Stars rose in her black train and kissed Jaren on the cheek.

“For Luck..”

The Blond Celestial rolled his eyes when the Mandalorian was unchained, a beskad thrown before him. Jaren raised his hand and slapped it against the other, raising his hand in the air, a sword descended, the hilt and blade ornate and forged of finery:

The Master of Illusions began to spin the great blade in one hand, sweeping it around him like a wing. His blue eyes fixed on this warrior, who picked up their weapon to begin the duel.

Jaren did not take pleasure in taking life as Abeloth did. He preferred tricks and illusions, to play with mortals not destroy them. A Jester, a Master of Disguises. This was altogether different. He did not summon the Blade of Eons often, he reserved it for the most serious of occasions. Taking the Great Sword he held it to his side in a tail guard and waited, each blink synched to his heart beat. His blond bangs spiked as a helm, and his outfit black with matching scarlet lines to match his blade. If he was to take life, it would be in style.

 

[Vas T’sikerret]

Vas had found himself in the most unusual circumstances. He had been hunted down and blames for his Contractor’s crimes on Naboo. The shooting of a crowd, which he had not been guilty of. The Mandalorian was given only one redress, that he could gain justice at the tip of his beskcad.

His enemy was a dandy, dressed in finery no becoming of a warrior. He looked more like a girl, and yet when he brandished his great blade, Vas could see that little spark in his eye, the sign of one who had killed. The Mando could not show that same fire, his mask obscured it. So taking the blade he held it to his breast, the pummel touching his breastplate as he signaled to this combatant he meant to fight with Ijaat, with honor.

The Queen in her black dress took out a white scarf and held it in the wind, she dropped it and the Mando charged swinging his curved blade in a fury of cuts to try and remove that smirk from this Pretty Boy’s face.

TAG: Jaren Labnith

 

[Jaren Labnith]

TAG: Vas T’sikerret

Jaren took uo the Sword of Eons and swept it like a great carpet of metal at The Mando, the massive blade flew as great wing around the Blond Being’s body as he struck at the beskcad.

Jaren hated how Abigail was beaming with delight with each stroke of his blade. This was not how the Son of Celestials liked to be, manipulated to take the head of someone he didn’t even know.

The Master of Illusions sweeped the great blade around as onlookers clapped, his eyes burning that amusement was found in this execution. The truth is the Warrior had no chance against his powers, and Abeloth knew that. This all was a formality, a ruse of justice and that made Jaren angry. He tossed Sword so that it flew into the crowd and almost cut The Queen of Stars’ head off, the great edge dug into wood trellis.

He then charged the Mando, and met his blade with his arm.

“This is a sham Warrior.. you are outmatched, I ma gravely sorry for this, this spectacle of lies.”

Jaren was Master of Illusions, ao he made the ringing disappear, they were now on a planet of rock, with great fissures and tunnels that lead underground.

“This is your homeworld is it not? Mandalore. You deserve to die where you herald from.”

The Master of Illusions drew a Basket hilted blade with devil horns on it and resumed the duel. There was satisfaction that the view would be obscured for Abigail and that this Warrior could see his homeland before he breaths his final breaths.

 

[Vas T’sikerret]

The Blond Prince was not to be trifled with, his elegant dress had bo bearing on the power with which he beat ths Mando back, his great blade was a feather in his hands, throwing Vas back with each stroke.

Then he disarmed himself. He trew hism ughty wrapon into the stands as if in protest and drew close to mention this was all fixed. What happened next bewildered Vas all the more, the Naboo ring disappeared, the lush greenery of the hills around them was replaced with the rocky terrain of Mandalore. The Mando tilted his T shaped visor, and walked on the rocks of his homeland, his head fillinf with tje music of his people:


The drums, pipes, and lyres filled his head and he gripped his Beskcad and looked to see Jaren armed once more. The Mando now fueled by the fire of Mandalore charged and cur with a ferocity of arching cuts and stabs, that made him a blur of Beskar. He was taken by the scenery, the feel of his world, the sound of his people’s pipes. Whatever this Blond Being had done was give him a chance…

 

[Jaren Labnith]

The Mandalorian came alive and began to a series of cuts and thrusts that Jaren barely coukd parry, this was a delight to The Celestial Son, he weaved his basket around, the blade bouncing off the beskcad, and then one of the thrusts made ot past a guard, the tip passed through his fine dress, and drew blood. The Master of Illusions smirked, his shoulder was pinned by the masterful stroke. His eyes blinked as he then dug the blade further in, it prptruding out his shoulder blade. His face was now close to Mando’s visor.

“Well met Warrior of Mandalore!”

He then slide the blade and tore his own arm off, which fell to the rocky foor, blood pouring in fountain loads, painting the rock as a canvas of stone.

Standing there the Master of Illusions then grew a new arm of white tentacles that he flexed and like harpoons at the Mando. Being the Nephew of Typhojem had its perks.

 

[Vas T’sikerret]

The Mando was rather taken aback as the Blond Being tore his arm asunder and then grew a new one of tendrils that it fired at him like spears. Vas fell back as the white serpents wrapped around him, he cut at them with his beskcad, severing one and then rising to his knee and finally back to his feet. He was beginning to see that killing this Prince wasn’t going to be easy, maybe even impossible, but he would fight nonetheless, he charged the Blond Being and thrusted, his tip aimed for hos chest. The Mando turned his body into a ram as he shouted,

“Kote Saxon!!!”

He had not said those words in a long time. He had abandoned the Clans for bounty hunting, and lost his way. But now at the end he felt the need to restore his faith.

 

[Jaren Labnith]

Jaren smiled as he saw the Warrior recover and charge with a zeal. This was what he hoped to give to this Mandalorian, yhe hope of victory. As the blade dug into his armor, crscking it, The Master of Illusions smiled, his blue eyes fixed on the visor, the sigil of the Mand’oa.

He wrapped his tentacles around the blade and began to pull it out, white blood flowing this time. He then took the flat of his basket hilted blade and hit the Mando across the mask throwing him to the rocky terrain, snapping the blade which broke against the Beskar. Jaren looked at it, the edge of asunder was sharp as he drew near, his tentacles grabbing the Mando on the ground and tossing him in the air on his back.

 

[Vas T’sikerret]

---

Vas felt the force of the flat which almost broke his neck, throwing him in the air. He heard the blade snap, some shards in his helm, stuck there like needles, one a great shard. Before he could even recover, he felt himself lifted by those serpents of ivory that through him in the air on to his back, knocking the wind out of him.

The Mandalorian searched woth his hand for his beskcad which was gone. He chose to teat one of the shards out of his helm’s chin, blood dropping, he held it like knife as he rose, his body was aching and still he fought on. The sight of Mandalore, and the will to fight to the bitter end fueling him.

He saw a fount of white come from this Blond Demon’s chest, and yet he seemed to shake it off as if nothing had happened. What was clear is he wasn’t playing games, he wasn’t toying with this Mando'ade. He would give this Creature a Ijaat death if he could, but he sensed in his bones this was a fight he could not win.

 

[Jaren Labnith]

Jaren smiled as the Warrior made a weapon of a shard. Never had he seen such resolve, such will to fight against the odds. The Master of Illusions was beginning to like this race, and decided his next visit would be their home world.

The Son of Celestials held his now long basket dagger and rushed forward, he seung his tentacles like a whip, grabbing the Mando from the legs and flinging him up in the air, as he stabbed his abdomen. The broken blade chipper some more against the Mando Ore, but found purchase at the waist.

Jaren then threw him to the ground, his face moe stoic now as he prepared for a final blow, a requiem reach that would snuff out this Brave Warrior.

The white blood continued to flow, the ground now an inch thick with white waters. Jaren felt a little light headed, the ink drain did have an effect, and if he did not take this Warrior down soon, he would be incapacitated.

Using the tentacles he grabbed The Mando by the mask and lifted him in the air, squeezing. The Beskar was strong, so this would only cause discomfort.

 

[Vas T’sikerret]

Vas tried to parry but that puthon whipped him off his feet and then he felt the broken blade find the flex between his beskar. The Blond Demon was not holding back, it was as if he was a injured Tu’kata. His feet felt the liquid that poured from his chest, and he realized, this injury was bearing an effect, he saw it, subtle, the face of the Prince was grave, the wound was not superficial after all. This heartened the Saxonite, when his face was grabbed by that white snake and he was raised up. He kept his right hand on the shard knife, resisting the urge to his his two hands to get the tentacle off.

The Mandalorian held the wiggling python with its suckers that made squeaking noises om his visor. With his shard blade he swung and cut the tendril in twain and rushed the Blond Dmeon, leaping with his shoulder to knock the Prince down, he stabbed the neck which spat ivory like paint on his face mask.

The Blond Prince’s face reflecting in his T-shaped visor, Vas was pleased to have achieved such a stroke, perhaps even fatal, when he felt it, his own strength sapping and he looked down to see hus underbelly voiding rose water to mingle with the white, the broken blade holding him up from the navel.

“Well met Prince..”

 

[Jaren Labnith]

The Brave Warrior cut his tentacle and charged. Jaren knew this was the opportunity, the finish of this glorious death dance. To his suprise, the Mando did cleave his neck, which made speaking impossible, his throat filling with white ink blood. However, the Warrior in his eagerness for victory impaled himself on the broken basket blade.

Jaren raised up his head, and kissed the cheek of the helm. He had earned such a boon, having mortally wounded The Celestial Spawn. The curtain of Mandalore began to pass, the crowd of Naboo now saw the mess of white and rose blood that both waded in.

Abeloth rose from her seat with an unusual concern, she saw so much of ink matter and it stirred her to run into the ring. Two guards pulled Vas off Jaren, and laid him against a pillar.

Abigail panicked as she kissed his brow and then moved to his mouth, her mouth becoming wide as she tried to pour some black ink inside his mouth.

“Jaren! My love! Do not leave me!”

The Master of Illusions coughed up more ivory ink, and his eye lif closed, a smile on his face.

 

[Vas T’sikerret]

---

Vas was taken off the blade and carried to the pillar, ans leaned against it. As he bled out, the rose water rushing down his shiny armor he heard music, and saw a great hall opening before him, Mandos in red cape and gold Beskar standing at attention. He walked towards them, a great crackling hearth in the back, as he joined his Fathers in the Hereafter.

With that Vas gasped and the last breath was followed by a great wind, as if the world was acknowledging the passing of a Saxon.

 

[Jaren Labnith]

The Son of Celestials was quite amused, the Mando had made a mortal wound. He was taken on a floating stretcher to a medical wing, and Abeloth attempted different forms of mending, all of them failed. Jaren laid there, looking up at her as she wept black ink.

“So you have a heart after all Queen of Stars..”

Abeloth kissed him with her big lips.

The Master of Illusions sighed.

“I must go now.. you will be the last of our kind..”

Abeloth grabbed his hand,

“No! You will not leave me!”

Jaren looked into her face, and slipped away, his white blood still pouring out. Gods that was what they were called, worshipper by lesser beings, but strike the right place and they like all sentients were mortals to an extent. He had liked this body, and it was such a shame to lose it. So with that Jaren breathed his last and was gone.

Was it an illusion? Or Reality? With Jaren it had been diffi ult to ever know. Mortality was the prize he had sought, had this dance of blades with a Mando been enough to purchase him the Reward?