Private Shelter From the Storm

[Ishani Dinn]

Standing on a hill overlooking the city of Calabiyau, Ishani still wasn’t sure how she’d done it. Somehow, she had gotten through to the right people. Somehow, she had convinced them that a refugee city was a good idea. Somehow, they had come to an arrangement.

As it turns out, there are a lot of abandoned settlements on Chaldea. One of them was Calabiyau, a coastal city. It had been more or less completely abandoned around six years ago, another casualty of the mass exodus that the planet had been suffering from for years now. With so short an amount of time having passed, much of its infrastructure remained intact. It didn’t take much to get things up and running again.

It was a slightly overcast day, with a cool breeze blowing in from the sea. Weather forecasts told of rain to come. Ishani watched the construction droids at work. She was accompanied by Persis Solusar, the Head of the Mystics—the woman whose visions of the future had prompted her to rig an election and manufacture her own "perfect candidate" for senatorship. There was something funny about standing there with her and watching the city being rebuilt from afar, considering that Persis was blind. But she had agreed to come, and she didn’t seem to mind the quiet. Probably because she was less interested in the city or in Ishani, and more in the man who had suggested it.

Persis and Ishani were no longer on good terms, for obvious reasons. Arlo's death had only exacerbated them. Persis had known Arlo for years, and she was still in mourning black, her Mystic veil now more like a hood, hiding her face in its shadow. Though she never said anything, Ishani suspected that she blamed her for his death, even if only a little. She would certainly blame Ishani if the nightmare future she had dreamed of came to pass. Until then, things between them were just... awkward. Hopefully not enough to make their guest uncomfortable.

Alicio Organa​

 

[Alicio Organa]

CALABIYAU, CHALDEA
​

Alicio stepped off his personal shuttle, looking worse for wear. His clothes, on the other hand, were flawless.

He'd opted for a dark blue and grey ensemble, complete with a blue and black half-cape tossed over a shoulder. It was a quiet outfit for most nobility, but for Alicio, it was about as loud as he could comfortably stomach.

Alicio's eyes were tired, with obvious dark circles shadowing his sockets. His hair was a bit messy, dark locks rebelling against their master, the wind pulling them into his face on occasion. His movements were just a bit sluggish, as he disembarked his ship on a flat patch of ground, and began the trek up to the designated meeting area.

It wasn't long before he saw Ishani, and an additional form. Alicio found a smile as he approached, bowing at the waist as he entered conversational range. "Ishani, it's good to see you again."

Humor flecked his fatigued features, "I must say, this city-building project has been the smoothest one I've assisted with to date. It helps that the city is already built, of course."

Alicio turned to the woman draped in black. "My name is Alicio." Then, deciding to be a bit more formal, "Count Alicio, of Alderaan. I don't believe we've met."

- Ishani Dinn -

​

 

[Ishani Dinn]

Sensing Alicio approaching, Ishani turned to greet him. “Ey, Alicio!”

He looked… tired? That wasn’t too surprising for a man who worked in politics. “I hope you don’t still have that headache you had the last time we met,” she said with a smirk.

“It helps that we have a lot of abandoned, empty cities here. Although a lot of the candidates I looked at had to be rejected, because they weren’t truly abandoned. They’d just been taken over by pirates, undocumented immigrants, or merfolk.”

Persis was a bit puzzled by how casual and jokey Ishani was being, but she swiftly sank into a polite curtsy. “Persis Solusar,” she introduced herself. “Head of the Mystics. We have taken an interest in this project.”

“The Mystics take an interest in all things Chaldean,” Ishani muttered. A cold drop of water landed on the bridge of her nose. She tilted her head up, feeling more drops falling against her upturned face. “Well, here comes the rain…”

Alicio Organa​

 

[Alicio Organa]

​

"No, but it's been replaced many times over," Alicio responded good-naturedly, not afraid to speak honestly with her. "I swear, sometimes governance is like trying to water a fickle houseplant."

Give it too much, it wilts. Give it too little, it wilts. And sometimes, it wilts on it's own, just to be dramatic.

The young noble met Persis' bow with his own, obviously well-practiced from mixing with Alderaanian nobility. Also thanks to his practice in the House courts, he picked up on Ishani's chilled reception of the woman, and tucked it away in the back of his mind.

Alicio peeked towards the sky as he felt a touch of cold on his shoulder, storm-grey eyes meeting storm-grey clouds. "We'd better take shelter, then."

"I don't know much about the mystics." He looked between them, trying to guess their connection. "But I'd hope your interest is a positive one. There is always room for more helping hands."

- Ishani Dinn -

​

 

[Ishani Dinn]

“Eh, not all houseplants are like that. Take the snake plant, for instance. They thrive on neglect.” Sorry, botany was one of her interests. “Get yourself a snake plant, maybe you’ll feel better.”

Rather than standing around in the rain, he suggested they find shelter. Ishani was about to suggest they board one of their ships or vehicles, but Persis spoke first. “We may find shelter in the monastery. It will provide an excellent view of the city as well.”

Ishani followed the direction she was pointing. A tiny tidal island, with an artificial pathway leading to it from the shore of the mainland, harbored a series of old stone buildings. “That’s a monastery?” she asked, feeling a little foolish. “I thought it was just another abandoned building…”

“It is quite operational,” Persis said, beginning to lead the way across the pathway. “I know them. They will be kind and hospitable to us.”

Ishani had no objections, and provided Alicio didn’t either, she’d follow in the older woman’s footsteps.

"I don't know much about the mystics. But I'd hope your interest is a positive one. There is always room for more helping hands."

“We are Chaldea’s only legal Order of Force Users,” Persis replied. “We exist to protect our world from Sith and Jedi who would seek to do us harm. They believe themselves powerful, but we rebuke the powerful by taking away the tools by which they wield their power.”

“She means that the Mystics cut off other people’s connections to the Force,” Ishani explained quietly.

“And that is all that we may use the Force for,” Persis added. “We prefer to serve the people as equals, not gods or sorcerers. This refugee city is one such endeavor—something good which does not require a grand battle between Light and Dark or magic powers of any kind to accomplish.”

Alicio Organa​

 

[Alicio Organa]

A houseplant that required neglect? What a novel concept. Alicio would have to purchase one, everything else he touched seemed to die.

Alicio frowned at the poor choice of words in his own head, and followed Persis as she led the way towards a small series of buildings by the sea, and elaborated on the nature of the Chaldean Mystics.

Alicio picked his way along the hillside with his companions, gradually feeling more rain prick his shoulders. He listened to both Persis and Ishani, trying to decide what the most diplomatic thing to say was. He responded in a measured tone. "Thank you for sharing. I will attempt to honor your traditions while I am here."

He stared ahead, towards the monastery, hiding his deepening dark expression from the Force-user. A hand went to his pocket absent-mindedly, as he clutched something within for comfort.

As they neared the building, Alicio turned his attention to Ishani, lowering his voice a bit. "You had mentioned when we met that you were a student of Arlo Renard. Were you a Mystic too, then?" Maybe that would explain the tension in the air.

- Ishani Dinn -

​

 

[Ishani Dinn]

“Yes. I was a Mystic for about three years before I quit. It was part of an arrangement with my parents after I returned pregnant out of wedlock—in exchange for taking me back into their home and helping me with the kids, they wanted me to become part of the Potentium in some fashion. I picked the route that wouldn’t require me to sever my connection to the Force, which meant becoming a Mystic.” She spoke low, eying Persis ahead of them. “Before that, I had a very, very brief stint as a Jedi Padawan. Too much meditating. And before that, I was a Sith Acolyte for a little while. Too much killing.”

She delivered all this information with a casual, almost blasé tone, suggesting that each allegiance she’d pledged was little more than a phase, something she outgrew like a teen fad.

Ahead of them, Persis knocked on the front door of the monastery. It opened, and a head peeked out. Persis spoke to the head, and whatever she said prompted the owner of the head to open the door wide enough for the trio of guests to pass through.

Wood-paneled halls awaited them. Inside it was warm and dry. The corridors and rooms were softly lit by natural light filtering through stained glass windows. Ishani shook out her damp hair, turning it into a shaggy lion’s mane, and spotted the monk who had opened the door. He was a full-blooded Zeltron, his skin maroon red and his hair a purplish black.

“Hello,” she greeted him. He bowed his head slightly.

“The monks here have taken a vow of silence,” Persis explained. “They may communicate only through sign language.”

Ishani promptly repeated her greeting in sign language. The monk smiled faintly, then gestured toward a stairwell leading up.

“We may continue to view the city from the upper rooms,” Persis said, gathering her robes as she began to ascend the steps. “As long as the rain does not obscure our view, that is. At the very least, it will be a private viewing.”

Alicio Organa​

 

[Alicio Organa]

Alicio's measured steps hitched as Ishani listed off her former orders. He could barely believe that she had been a Sith once. When he thought of the Sith, the first thing that came to his mind was a bloodthirsty marauders of the Maw. The idea that Ishani could have been one of them was laughable to the nobleman.

But she seemed serious, if flippant. Alicio examined her face, searching for something beyond the careless voice.

Before he could ask any questions, the trio had approached the monastery. Alicio walked in alongside Ishani, bowing as cordially as he did to the stoic mystic as he did to Persis.

The young man ran a hand along the stone wall as the entourage wound up the stone steps of the Monastery, imagining the history hewn into the rock. After only a flight, they exited the stairwell into a spacious stone room, with a few tables and chairs arranged in the center. There was a long, open-aired window, where the pitter-patter of the steadily-increasing rain could be heard against the cobblestones.

Alicio leaned his elbows on the lip of the wide window, and stared out over the city of Calabiyau with a tired smile. "It looks... picturesque. It's difficult to imagine such a beautiful city being abandoned."

"How soon can we..." Alicio suppressed a yawn with the back of his hand. "Sorry. How soon can we expect the city to be occupied?"

- Ishani Dinn -

​

 

[Ishani Dinn]

There really was nothing to be found in her girlish face. If anything, she gave off the vibe of someone who had stumbled upon the Sith by accident, but never should’ve gone there in the first place. Yet she had found a reason to stay. Sometimes she missed the structure of that part of her life, the stability, that feeling of eternity stretching out before her, full of infinite possibilities and the promise of power.

At least, until she remembered the bullying, scheming, abuse, and needless violence of it all. Then she stopped feeling so nostalgic.

“This place suits you, doesn’t it?” Ishani remarked, seeing how Alicio studied the stones. Even from their first meeting, she’d had a sneaking suspicion that the man was either a former goth that had to clean up his image once he got into politics, or a closeted goth who simply hadn’t been introduced to the subculture yet. He just gave off that vibe.

Her gaze shifted to the city visible through the window.

"It looks... picturesque. It's difficult to imagine such a beautiful city being abandoned."

“Fear,” she replied. “Of the Maw. That, and the lack of economic opportunities.” The whole theocracy thing probably didn’t help either.

"Sorry. How soon can we expect the city to be occupied?"

“Within the next few months to a year.” She yawned as well. It was contagious, after all.

“What is it that you have in your pocket, Mr. Organa?” Persis suddenly asked. She had taken a seat at the table, and she spoke very quietly, her voice in roughly the same range as the sound of rain pattering against the roof.

Ishani glanced toward Alicio, her gaze sliding down the length of his body to pocket level in confusion, before turning back to Persis. “Is that the beginning of a dirty joke? Miss Solusar, I didn’t know you had it in you.”

Persis sighed. “Must you make everything that graces your ears into innuendo?”

“Absolutely.”

“You have something in your pocket which you reached for earlier,” Persis went on, ignoring her. “That was when I first sensed it. It responded to your touch, as if you had called upon it for aid. If I may ask, where did you get it?”

Alicio Organa​

 

[Alicio Organa]

“This place suits you, doesn’t it?”

Alicio quirked an eyebrow at Ishani, suddenly feeling self-conscious as his hand fell from the stone. "I told you before; I like buildings that last."

As he observed the city, Alicio tried to imagine what it would have looked like full of people. What sorts of families might have built their entire lives here, only to pack up and move? What new families would come here, hoping to escape the war?

Alicio nodded, apparently pleased at Calabiyau's timeframe. "Good. The sooner, the better."

“What is it that you have in your pocket, Mr. Organa?” Persis suddenly asked.

The nobleman's face ran cold. He turned around slowly, resting his eyes on Persis. He was so shocked by the question, he didn't fully register the series of lewd comments exchanged between the two women afterward. "I don't..." he began, before catching his voice.

It's a gift. No need to be ashamed.

Meekly, Alicio reached into his pocket, and pulled out a thin crystal, holding it between his thumb and forefinger. As soon as it was exposed to the air, it began singing in the back of his mind, a high-pitched whistle that tasted like incense and ocean air. It shone with a cool blue, save for the center, where it was injected with onyx black, no matter how he turned it.

"I created it." He felt naked showing the crystal, as if he were bearing his soul. "It helps me focus."

- Ishani Dinn -

 

[Ishani Dinn]

Ishani had hoped her joking manner would help to release some of the tension, but Alicio appeared shaken. The mystery object he retrieved from his pocket turned out to be a crystal. Blue with a black heart.

“You created it?” Persis echoed. She fell quiet, her sightless eyes staring straight ahead.

“... Uh, it’s quite lovely,” Ishani said, interrupting the silence that followed. “What did you use to make it?”

“His soul,” Persis murmured. “I see it sometimes. Someone who is untrained and largely ignorant as to the nature of the Force needs an outlet. They feel too much, and they don’t know why or who to turn to. So they create—or sometimes destroy—with the naïvete of a child.” She leaned back in her chair, closing her eyes. “You imbued it with the Force. Your Force, what you carry of it inside you. It’s like looking into a mirror… or what they tell me looking into a mirror is like. A reflection of yourself in the waters of the Force…”

“It doesn’t matter,” Ishani snapped. Then, in a softer tone, she met Alicio’s gaze. “It doesn’t have to matter. The galaxy is full of people with a touch of the Force, and most of them will go their whole lives without even knowing it. Maybe they’re better off that way.”

“I couldn’t have said it better myself.”

“But if they do want to know,” Ishani continued, unwilling to serve as Persis’ mouthpiece again. “There are places they can go for answers.”

Alicio Organa​

 

[Alicio Organa]

The Alderaanian closed his fist around the crystal quickly, hiding it once more in his grasp. He didn't put the gem away, instead gripping it tightly, as if afraid to let go. He sank into the silence as quickly as the mystic did, not sure how to proceed.

And as Persis spoke, Alicio felt anger and shame enter him in equal parts. A deep offence welling up inside him, that yearned to shout 'you're wrong'. To curl up and hide. To rage at her narrow worldview. To apologize. To storm out of the room. The crystal responded to his feelings, the song growing louder, the taste of myrrh turning to ash in his mouth.

Alicio's embarrassment and fury manifested as an imperious chill.

Before he could retort, however, Ishani spoke up. He flicked his eyes to her, caught off guard by her readiness to jump to his aid, and her comforting demeanor afterward.

It wasn't lost on him that she met his eyes, green on grey.

Alicio allowed himself to breathe before speaking to Persis again, in a clipped tone. "Apologies, Mystic. Could I take the room for a minute or two? I need to... collect myself." Before I say something I regret, he didn't say.

He pointedly didn't tell Ishani to leave, but after that, he wouldn't blame her for stepping out.

- Ishani Dinn -

 

[Ishani Dinn]

“As you wish.” Persis rose from her seat, graceful and dignified. “There is a room just down the hall with a similar view. You will find me there.”

Ishani stayed where she was while the door shut behind her, then bounced once on her toes. “I’m not a Mystic anymore. But if you’d like me to leave as well…” Her eyebrows rose questioningly.

Alicio Organa​

 

[Alicio Organa]

Alicio watched Persis exit with sharp eyes, feeling a touch of jealousy as her calm demeanor didn't so much as shift. The young Organa stayed very still until she was gone, knuckles turning white around the crystal in his palm as he fought to keep his composure.

Once she was out of sight, Alicio's rigid posture sagged, his shoulders drooping. He took in a deep breath, and used the exhale to relax. With gentle fingers, Alicio rotated the crystal in his hand, letting it sing it's song once more, the shadow of the storm outside coaxing out the color of it's coal heart.

"No," Alicio interjected at Ishani's offer to leave. Then, realizing how forceful he came off, the noble backtracked with the shade of a smile. "I mean, you don't have to."

"I just didn't want to insult the Head Mystic. I'd rather not cause an interplanetary incident." He was only half-joking. The Count refused to let his actions reflect poorly on Alderaan.

"But she wasn't wrong. I was ignorant. I didn't know what I was doing. I was trying to learn more about myself, and I... may have gotten carried away." All his hopes, dreams, fears, imprinted into a tiny crystal.

Alicio stepped forward, and placed the gem on the table, looking helplessly across the room to Ishani. "You were a Mystic, a Sith, and a Jedi, however brief. What do you make of it?"

- Ishani Dinn -

 

[Ishani Dinn]

“Persis means well. I don’t know what you had in mind for that crystal, why you made it or what you intend to use it for, but… it certainly stands out. You should be aware of that, especially when you’re dealing with Force Users. It’s like a beacon to us.”

He mentioned that he was trying to “learn more about himself” by creating the crystal, but that was a vague statement. Clearly Alicio was looking for guidance, or at least for someone to throw him a rope. The man might have been able to navigate his way through the world of politics, but he was utterly lost at sea when it came to the Force.

“I’m not sure I’m the best person to ask,” she replied. “I mean, the reason why I was all those things at one point or another is because I never really fit in.” Maybe that made her more of an expert than she realized. Still, she scratched her head nervously, shifting her weight from one foot to the other. “I suppose I could try and answer any questions you might have. Just don’t ask me which philosophy or school of thought is the best—I found that there were both good and bad things about the Jedi, the Sith, and the Mystics. But I never found a sense of belonging among them.”

Alicio Organa​

 

[Alicio Organa]

Alicio noticed Ishani's hesitancy immediately, feeling his own uncertainty grow as her's rubbed off on him. His brow creased as he returned his gaze back to the synthetic crystal, singing it's clarion melody as he learned of it's unshelterable nature.

"Thanks for letting me know." He sat down on an old chair by the table, exerting perfect attentiveness, directed at his city-building partner.

"I think that makes you the perfect person to ask," he offered, trying to convey some of that friendly softness she'd shown him. "I don't need someone set in their ways to tell me how they think things are." Without meaning to, his gaze fell to the door the mystic left through. "I'd far prefer someone still trying to figure it all out themselves. Besides, I'm sure you know more than me."

"I'm not used to talking about this stuff, so apologies if what I ask makes no sense whatsoever." He demurely folded his hands on his lap.

"When you... connect... how do you feel? What do you feel?"

- Ishani Dinn -

 

[Ishani Dinn]

"I'm not used to talking about this stuff, so apologies if what I ask makes no sense whatsoever."

"Most Force Users don't make much sense when they talk about it either," she replied with a smirk.

She was about to prove it as she tried to answer his question.

"Uh, well... It, uh, feels like what it is. A connection to life. All life, in the entire galaxy. You can feel living things, their presence. It's a sense that you have, but it's not quite like seeing with your eyes, or hearing, or smelling or tasting. It's... a sixth sense, I suppose?"

She sighed. "I've heard people use very poetic, flowery metaphors for how it feels. Like a storm, or the breath of life, or colors, or a song. Well, I've got a cliché to top them all: it's love. Divine love, unconditional love, infinite and all-enveloping." Her gaze grew distant. "It's made me long for things not found in this life. The more I bask in it, the more I feel as if I were meant for another world, another state of being beyond all this crude matter. Maybe that's why I don't feel like I belong anywhere, except maybe with the ones I love best..."

Trailing off, she shrugged and raised her eyebrows. "That's all I've got. What about you?"

Alicio Organa​

 

[Alicio Organa]

"That's beautiful." Alicio didn't understand the feeling, it was an entirely foreign view of their gift than that of his own. But that was what enraptured him about it. It was new, and strange, and lovely, and something he may not ever experience.

When she asked him about his own experience, he quirked a quick smile. "Promise not to laugh."

"It's a taste. On the back of my tongue, or maybe it's all in my mind, it's difficult to tell." Alicio still heard the song of the crystal on his lips. "For the few times I've felt the Force, it's always accompanied by a ring, and an aroma."

His good mood faded a bit. "When I've tried to use it, though... It feels heavy. Like it's crushing me." He squeezed his hand for visual reference. "The pressure in my head, on my shoulders... it's intense."

Alicio's eyes drifted down to the gem once more as he thought of his vision on Alderaan, and carrying the weight of a melting world in his open palms. Rain trickled in from the storm outside. "Much less poetic than luminous love, I'm afraid."

"Maybe I'm doing something wrong? I don't know."

- Ishani Dinn -

 

[Ishani Dinn]

“Thanks. I’ve been laughed at for saying stuff like that in the past.”

That was likely all the proof he needed that she wouldn’t laugh at his take on it. In fact, she got a little excited. “No way. Really? You can taste and smell the Force?” The two senses were roughly interchangeable, anyway. Plug your nose, and you lose the ability to taste.

Reaching in her pocket, she retrieved several little glass vials of her alchemized perfumes, scanning the labels until she found one that read Sphere. “I don’t mean to treat you like a guinea pig, but you’ve piqued my curiosity. This is a perfume that’s been imbued by the Force. I made it myself, sorta like how you made that crystal. If you put it on your skin, it can make your connection to the Force just a little bit stronger—I picked it because it’s got the mildest effects out of all the perfumes I’ve made. But I want to know if you can… I dunno, taste or smell the Force in it without even opening the bottle.” She held the vial out to him, if he would accept it.

Otherwise, she didn’t have much of an answer to his question. “I’ve never heard of anything like that. I, uh… well, when I was first starting out, I had a hard time controlling the Force. I would break stuff with my mind when I would get angry or upset. But I never felt any heaviness when I tried to use it.” She tapped her lip with one finger. “If I had to guess, it might be a sign that you’re only mildly sensitive to the Force. Like maybe your connection’s not that strong. It’s actually pretty common—only a select number of Force Sensitives that are taken in by the Jedi actually go on to become Jedi Knights, for example. The rest just aren’t ‘talented’ enough." She shrugged. "That, or maybe you’re doing it wrong, trying too hard, or something else is affecting you.”

Alicio Organa​

 

[Alicio Organa]

Alicio palmed the vial handed to him, once more feeling a bit flustered by the positive attention. He had tried to keep his Force-sensitivity a secret; even Queen Faith didn't know yet. Having someone take such an interest in it was off-putting, in the most flattering way. "I'd be happy to try."

As she continued to muse about his predicament, Alicio placed the small glass ball on the table, cocking his head at her hypotheses. "So, I'm either too weak, failing miserably, or working too much." He added a light mocking edge to his voice. "Tell me something I don't know."

Despite the joking tone, he did seem rather tired.

Alicio closed his eyes, letting the salted taste from his crystal give him focus, as he turned his attention to the perfume in front of him. His senses extended, enveloping the vial, without any of the heaviness the Alderaanian had described a moment before. Alicio paused a moment, growing a confused look on his face as he examined the object.

"I taste something, all right," he said, mouth curling downward and puckering slightly. "It's sweet. Pungently sweet. Like... honeysuckle, spiked with sugar."

"I certainly hope that's not what it actually smells like, because... Wow."

- Ishani Dinn -