Private Notes from Jutrand

[Lysander von Ascania]

Kirie
​

Lysander arrived on Jutrand two weeks prior and was confident the stubborn red dust of Korriban still clung to him. In that breath, a strange clarity of freedom seeped into his veins, a sensation that had been foreign to him until now, and with it, curiosity that bubbled and swirled, luring him deeper into the capital in pursuit of knowledge. Beyond the lightsaber blade, beyond the pages of history and politics, he truly believed something else waited.

During that first pass through the Sadow District, it became clear that the scientific community here was thriving, and not to mention, their facilities were rich with studies on Sithspawn. This was a recent awakening, one that had only just piqued his interest, mainly due to the influence of someone made of bark and leaves, exuding the elder sibling aura, Madrona A’Mia . It was a realm he would have never ventured into on his own, but now, with his entrepreneurial venture from Kor'ethyr Academy's greenhouse expanding to Brosi, he had the financial means to explore.

And so, one afternoon, driven by a familiar mix of bravado and folly that so often led him to trouble, he found himself at the edges of Zannah Falls, surrounded by domed buildings, waterfalls, and an artificial lake at the heart. The tranquility reminded him of Naboo's serene landscape. Amidst towering spires, lush gardens blooming like jewels, and upscale shops and restaurants, the district's charm enticed him further.

In the embrace of shade, he unpacked a collapsible fishing pole from his bag, the black fabric of a loose fitting tunic clinging to his lean frame, accompanied by dark grey trousers and matte black leather boots.

Snapping the pole together, he baited the hook. Under the brim of a bucket hat, shading his eyes from the sun, blonde locks curled outward. No longer a slave to technology, the teen resisted all urge to fidget with his datapad or chase the webs of past and future. So he simply breathed, surrendering to the moment, letting the stretch of blue sky, the lapping of water, and the quiet pulse in his veins remind him that he was here, and wholly alive.

 

[Kirie]

The Sadow District was one of the nicer areas on Jutrand. The buildings were lower here, more spaced out. The smog was a distant miasma smeared over the horizon rather than a choking blanket blotting out the lower levels. It was clean, well lit, with grand sites and interesting places to visit. There were dark and twisted corners of course. Strange Sithspawn skulked about openly, and the concentration of Sith elites here was high. That made Kirie nervous, but her reservations were assuaged by the fact that as the Princess' Handmaiden, she was free to go where she liked, and at the mention of her Highness Quinn Varanin, any barrier to her wandering was lifted.

She had been visiting the libraries there on Quinn's recommendation to look into Force techniques they could focus on for development. They had already begun working on her telepathy, but Kirie wondered if there was other potential left to unlock. The art of healing with Darkness was one such area that interested her, especially after all she had learned about Darth Virelia and the dozens of other damaged Lords and Ladies to whom the Light was poison. What if there was a way to help them? Would that not be a good use of her time and training?

If nothing else, it was worth investigating.

So it was that Kirie found herself once again perched on the marble steps separating the lake and the promenade of shops, squinting to read the flimsiplast sheets resting on her thighs in the fading afternoon light. It was getting too dark to read, so Kirie neatly gathered her notes and placed them in her leather book bag.

She stood up and yawned, stretching tired muscles, her mind turning to where the nearest place was that she could call a speeder. Looking around, her eyes fell upon a lone figure... Fishing. Huh. That was not something she'd thought she'd ever see in the heartland of Jutrand. In fact, Kirie hadn't seen someone fishing, -let alone gone herself- since she'd left Weik. Ignoring her better judgement, Kirie turned heel and walked back towards the young man who was framed by the rays of the setting sun. Slightly awkward, Kirie sidled up to him, giving a small wave in greeting and then raising both hands to sign.

'Got any bites?'

Lysander von Ascania​

 

[Lysander von Ascania]

Kirie
​

His gaze moved from the lake’s surface to the shadows lining the promenade, cautious, but also probing. The bucket hat cast a veil of shade, also concealing his curiosity. The sun’s rays touched his tunic now, feeling the warmth against his skin. In the distance, the occasional stir of security swept through crowds.

Unarmed, pole in hand, he wasn’t sure if he even had the right to be here. The thought echoed.. but it did not press him.

Lysander had made dozens of casts by now, each time, the line unfurling slowly. But not once was there a tug, no flicker, or any resistance. Either way, simply being here felt like a breath of permission, with peace nudging the corners of his mind. But had he admitted that aloud, it would’ve been another rebellion, betraying the doctrine that’d been drilled into him over the past year.

Still, the word hovered on his tongue, a whisper that he couldn't deny.

When soft footsteps approached, he didn't register the presence at first; so engrossed in the rhythm that the usual warning in the Force went completely unnoticed. A dangerous lapse, surely. Her wave coaxed a faint curl at the corner of his lips, born of amusement. Shoulders lifted slightly in a gentle shrug while tilting his head and drumming a rhythm on the reel.

Between casts, the teen's voice slipped into the air. “I guess the fish aren’t feeling social today,” he offered, words drawn out slowly with a note of dryness. He didn’t fully turn to her, though his relaxed posture may have suggested he wasn’t guarding anything. Not here. It was rare, but this felt like a moment that didn’t ask for too much.

Glancing at the water, he kept turning the reel. When Lysander looked back seconds later, he nudged the bag on the floor next to him with a boot; it wasn’t meant for fishing gear, but it still held enough.

Shifting the pole slightly in his grip, he then held it out halfway. ”Want to give it a shot? No pressure. It's more about pretending that you're patient if you ask me.” A bright, clearly handmade bait dangled from the line as the edges of his mouth lifted a fraction higher. “I’m pretty sure Sithspawn aren’t into my lures.”