Never Look Back (Amorella Mae)

[Ket Van-Derveld]

Aurum
The Enclave
Docking Bay
Pad 1-B


In a time long since past, the one known as Ket Van-Derveld might have come here for a purpose other than what was going through his mind. He had no love for anyone these nights. Not the Fringe, nor the Sith, or the Jedi, or even odd little splinter groups like the Sanctum or even the Moross. Truth be told, he cared not what happened to him anymore. Ever since that one long night in the desert on Tatooine, he'd come to a very specific conclusion. He was a broken man, and had been for a long, long time, well before his Force-induced jump into current times. That sad part was that he felt next to nothing anymore. The pain and anguish of his life had brought him to his knees, in a manner of speaking. Yet he knew enough to seek out someone who might help him. And that's why he was here, on this barren planet that had seen more war and devastation than even his native Nar Shaddaa. Out on those lonely sand dunes, Coryth had begun to make him think. It was something h'd not done in decades. Thinking on just who he really was, and what his purpose in this life was. Force knew he had more power at his command than most standing armies, and could flatten most with but a solitary thought, yet, he had no ambition to do so. No, his talents were wasted, as Coryth had so eloquently put it. So as that ramp to the Star lowered, he walked down it slowly, his sapphire eyes almost devoid of life. His head hung low, and even now, he felt no need to preen, no need to seem larger than life. Clad in his leather pants and boots, he was devoid of armor, a white button-up dress shirt under the floor-length leather coat that hung loose upon his shoulders.

As he walked, a few armed guards had come running up to him, and even as they stopped to question him, he kept on walking. It was as if they weren't even there to him. They all gave themselves a rather shocked look, before marching back around, pointing their weapons at him once again. He stopped a moment, and the leader of the guards spoke.

"You, this is restricted space. State your name and purpose!"

Ket paused a moment. He took a deep breath in, and exhaled just the same. "Bring me to The Reviver. Bring me to the one they call Inari. I've need of her unique insights..." he seemed to fight with this next bit, but he uttered it none-the-less. "...please."


[member="Amorella Mae"]

 

[Ereza]

Those who requested the presence of the Aesirs by name could hardly be ignored. Moross, was, first and foremost, a devotion to faith, a vector for belief. One did not speak the names of the Aesirs if one held neither - for there was power in a name as much as there was in belief in it. This man, whoever and whatever he was, likely believed nothing of the Morossian Pantheon. It was very likely that he, like so many other gifted and powerful souls throughout the galaxy, found the idea of divinity laughable insomuch as where it did not pertain to themselves.

Moross had seen all manner of believers and non-believers, and while it may not have changed their views or their faith, certainly it had changed many a mind. For better or worse, it mattered little - the Crusade still stood, it still grew.

So it was with a manner of peculiar respect that [member="Ket Van-Derveld"]'s request was met. Foolish, perhaps, given the very short but very profane history the man had with the Aesirs, yet it was almost as if they knew something. Someone knew something. He was lead by a small detail of armored guards into the main hold where, then, he was met by a dark-skinned man wearing robes of while and gold.

"You wish to see the Reviver," he said, his posture inferring some higher station than that of a simple pilgrim. A Priest, to be exact, and one of the higher Clergy of the Reviver. A moment of silence passed between them while the Priest looked pensive and lost within a conversation of his thoughts before he nodded finally, "I will take you to her. This way please."

They walked, and for all the historical glory of the Enclave's Temple it certainly was not some grand palace. Their path was short, bringing them through dilapidated halls that had seen heinous acts of war and savagery at the hands of the Horde. The veil here was tense, thin, like ice beneath one's feet slowly cracking under the weight of everything dark that had happened here. So much death in what was supposed to be such a peaceful place. It wasn't right - it was disturbing.

The Priest lead Ket out through a back archway that had long since seen its doors torn from the frame, scorches along the walls and floors speaking of a violent explosion. Here they were met with a long, gently sloping hillside that had once-upon-a-time been used as training grounds. Now it was marked by endless rows of gravestones bearing no names, but simply the mark of the covenant beneath the sigil of the Reviver. Out towards the middle stood a newly erected altar consisting of a young sapling around which a stone slab bearing carvings of the Morssian Pantheon shone polished in the daylight. A lone, white-robed figure sat kneeling before it and surrounding the alter stood twelve more armored warriors, a simple cape of white and gold-embroidered silk hung over each of their war-battered suits: the White Guard of Inari.

The Preist did note that today the Reviver was not shadowed by Aesir Aatrox, which perhaps was a blessing.

As they drew closer, the feeling of frailty dimmed to be overtaken by a pooling of calm and warmth. It emanated readily from the woman at the altar, all-encompassing. Even the winds died down. She did not turn to greet them, but maintained her position of prayer and meditation.

"Hello Ket Van-Derveld," she said from within her drawn hood, closed eyes hidden behind the silver half-mask covering her face, "we meet again."

 

[Ket Van-Derveld]

If he ever let a name slip past his lips, it was not for it's reverence. A name held no meaning for him. No, a name was not used for anything other than to identify someone, or something, if no other name was known. He simply didn't have it in him to place such things as respect, value, or even care upon something as trivial as a name. Not anymore, anyhow. He believed in nothing past what he knew to be reality. If he could be accused of worshiping anything these nights, it was truth. Truth in words, truth in actions, truth in reality. So much of his own past was nothing more than a blur of once vivid colors that dimmed so much that all he could see now was simply black and white. He barely remembered much of himself, let alone anyone else. Perhaps that was why he came, but it most likely wasn't.

As he was both led and followed by Morossi guards, he was led to a man of dark hue, wearing brilliant robes of gold and white. He spoke to Ket with even and dulcet tones, pausing briefly between each sentence before leading him through cracked and crumbling walls, a brief journey to an open courtyard filled with the graves of countless unnamed men, women and children. In a place such as this, where death and despair mingled freely with what should have been peace and tranquility, others would be unnerved if not downright disturbed by the feelings that this place emanated from it's every pore.

Yet, so dead to anything other than his own pains and depression, Ket felt nothing. Even as the dark hued priest led him to the Alter near the middle, Ket could not taste the moisture in the air. He could not hear the winds die out into still nothing. He could not even feel the warmth that one would feel from the Aseir before him. No, from him came a void of cold, dis-connected nothingness that merely kept him from feeling anything. The voices in his head all spoke the same words, more or less, and that alone was enough to focus him for the time being.

Without turning, she spoke to him of welcome, and of meeting once before. If that was truth, he was unaware of the reality of it. Still, it was nothing that held any bearing on the reasons he'd come here, this night. So there he stood, cold, nearly lifeless eyes of faded sky blue looking to Inari as she sat there.

"...I go by no name. I simply exist, a man looking for answers. Nothing more, nothing less."


[member="Amorella Mae"]

 

[Ereza]

If the void surrounding the man affected the Reviver she did not show it. Inari was no stranger to a lack of emotion, lack of feeling - though the sentiments were not of her own. She'd come to be entangled with a being of this galaxy who could wield death without nary a care, and it was with some certainty that she did understand a need for such a thing at certain times, certain places.

But this was not hers to conjure, and it never would be. Still she continued to pour into the surroundings her aura of calm, allowing it to seep into the very foundations of the land upon which they named and did make hallow in the memory of the people who had suffered and died here.

"Some might say existance is but a question," she answered softly, "if I have answers for you I will gladly share them."

[member="Ket Van-Derveld"]

 

[Ket Van-Derveld]

Ket was not trying to exude any sort of aura, or feeling, or emotion. He truly just 'was' at this point. He had no wish nor desire to affect anyone, nor did he seek to give off the impression that he did. Yet, for now, in this place, he merely stood there. Like a statue, he made no movements except to breath and to speak. And the words she uttered struck a chord with him.

"I question my own every single day it goes on. Someone told me that it would never be whole until I was whole once more. I've yet to truly grasp the meaning of that statement, nor my own existence for that matter..."


[member="Amorella Mae"]

 

[Ereza]

Inari listened, quiet and reserved, hands gently set upon her lap. Of all things she meditated on, this particular subject was one she often returned to. Wholeness, oneness, purpose, enlightenment. Once upon a time a woman had told her that to find enlightenment, one more first dismantle the whole.

Years had gone by, and to this day she'd yet to truly comprehend the underlying meaning of it but ... she felt she was closer than ever, today. Her journey through the ether of the Force had uncovered a great many things, including answers to long-standing curiosities. So when it was that she felt so close to the end, it was there she had met ... something.

It was difficult to quantify and define in few words.

"What is the question that you ask?" she queried gently.

[member="Ket Van-Derveld"]

 

[Ket Van-Derveld]

Still he stood, never wavering. A part of him felt rather annoyed, as he;d already asked the question. Yet another part of him understood the concept of godhood, however much a lie it may be. And more of him understood the concept of cryptic speech, and of asking something until the correct answer was brought forth. And in that, all he could was answer her in the most true form he could.

"I was told you have ways of helping those who need it. I must make myself whole once more in order to understand anything anymore. Can you help me? Or am I to turn my back and leave this place with more questions than I had when I arrived?"

A Question for a question. Such was his way, even now. He meant no disrespect, merely, he wondered if he was wasting his time. For he felt he had not much time left.



[member="Amorella Mae"]

 

[Ereza]

A patient breath in, serenity out. It continued to feed into the ground surrounding them, imbuing the sapling with its tranquil energies. In time, this place would become a beacon of peace and light all on its own. Until such a time that it could self-sustain, she would continue to be the source.

"Yes," she replied after a moment's pause, "I do. And yes, I can."

Several buds on the sapling's branches slowly began to sprout, green cases unfurling to present tiny leaflets.

"What is the question that you ask, when you ponder your existence?"

[member="Ket Van-Derveld"]

 

[Ket Van-Derveld]

He paused a moment. This was a question he'd not given any thought to. What was his role? Whats did his existence mean? Why was he here, now, in this time, so far from anything he knew, and even farther from that which he cared for? Her question made his clench his eyes shut, and raise a hand to his temples, massaging them as best he could with thumb and index. It hurt him to think of such things. It was as if that which he was would fight that, and hold back the answer for fear of being snubbed out, muted. Yet, as much as it pained him, he would croak out the words to answer such things.

"I...do not know. I am full of rage....emotions of anger, and pain, and hatred...yet I know...I was not always this way....Once...I was more than I am...I was a...a...a..."

It was as if he could not bring himself to say the word. In all reality, his mind was fighting him, relentlessly. The countless voices in his head had gathered, trying desperately to hold the word back, to suppress the realization and the truth. To hold on to the life they had, like a parasite clawing for it's own existence. Yet something within him, it overcame. Perhaps it was Inari's very influence, her presence. Perhaps it was he need and want to overcome. Maybe it was an overwhelming survival instinct. Either way, he fell to his knees, and grasped his head as if it were about to explode in a shower of blood and brain matter. And as he fell, his knees cracked, snapping at the joints, and he howled like a wolf about to die, groaning until he let forth a shirk. A word. A single cry for help. And that word was understood by any and all who could hear it.

"....a JJJJJEDDDDIIIIIIIIIIIII!!"

And with that, he looked toward Inari, and his eyes rolled back into his head, and he fell like a corpse to his side, his breathing shallow. His was a pain not many would ever know. And far fewer would ever overcome.




[member="Amorella Mae"]

 

[Ereza]

The Reviver did turn to behold this revelation of the man beside her, blue eyes widening. Witnessing his struggle was something of curious discomfort - like stumbling upon a sickened beast, erratic in movement and emotion, unsure of what intent it held. Would it simply wander, would it flee, would it attack? Inari leaned away as he fell forward, though she needn't move to maintain her distance. The White Guard, having watched [member="Ket Van-Derveld"] since his arrival, quickly moved in.

As his last word died off Inari motioned to her guards to step back, to give space for this crumbling soul and broken mind. There was little to be said about his state of being: Ket was on the verge of death, this she knew. The sensation of his Force aura as it writhed and withered, one entity struggling against the other within, was something she had only recently come to court with herself. The Reviver leaned towards him, a delicate hand settling on the man's brow before gently sweeping through his hair.

With that single touch the Aesir bestowed upon him her healing powers, focusing on the deteriorating walls of his psyche in order to keep his presence, his subconscious, tethered to his body. The rest? All the damage that had been done over the whole of his life? The physical she could mend, the mental she could salvage and restore, but the emotional healing was a journey he would need to take alone.

"Bring him into the Enclave," words whispered as she pulled away and stood, watching two of her Guards stoop to carefully pick the man up. She watched with great care, maintaining her hold on his mind within her own.

I am with you, Ket, and I will not let you go.