Chapter Two
It's a Nightmare
Voss, home of the Silver Jedi. Its beauty was never-ending, the sights of the world were beyond compare. Forests, mountains, plateaus, oceans all interwoven into the landscape. Fein Medon felt a sense of both anticipation and dread. He would enter the Nightmare Lands alone, to construct a new lightsaber. He had the materials on him, but now only required a focusing crystal. The Pau'an had a resplendent view of a valley that sprouted forth from where he stood. He was a hundred meters above the riverbed below, where the crashing sound of the waterfalls and colliding with the river met. Pine trees marked his location, stripped of leaves, gnarled and dead.
The overgrowth of the forest was dense, and under the sway of a corrupt influence. The region was inhabited by wildlife that had been tainted, Gormak natives who had been corrupted, and Voss Mystics—members of the native Voss species—who had gone mad. Fein had studied the region and learnt that long ago during the Voss-Gormak war, if the war had continued, the Nightmare Lands could have continued to expand and could have eventually covered Voss. It was both a troubling and interesting thought. The aspirant Jedi Archaeologist knelt down, placing the straps of his bag over his shoulders. He gave the beautiful valley one final look, he felt a great presence in the distance beyond the horizon; the Silver Jedi. Fein Medon turned his back to the beautiful sight and took a step into the Nightmare Lands.
The trek would be treacherous and lonely, but one Fein was determined to complete. Where once emerald blades of grass had flourished, bathing in the sunlight, it now rotted. The grass held a sickly yellow-orange tinge to its colour. Fein Medon wore traditional robes of his culture, mostly found on Utapau. The fabric was long enough that his feet were barely visibly, only the toes of his boots protruded from the robes, matching the colour. The maroon-coloured robe was fashioned with absolute precision, each fold in the fabric had been carefully attended to by several tailors, perfecting grace, mobility and fashion. The folds came high up, curling around the neck of the Pau'an
The further Fein Medon travelled into the Nightmare Lands, the calmer he became. It seemed to be preemptive anxiety that had overwhelmed his emotions prior to his journey. There was little sunlight that burst through the rotting branches, but enough to light his path. His black eyes gazed upon a garden of glowing mushrooms, he made sure to keep walking, but the flora was nonetheless interesting. Trees as large as cruisers squatted here and there, scratches tattooed their bark foretelling of conflicts past. Not a leaf in sight, it was as though everything pure in the world had come here to die. Even when surrounded by death, Fein Medon was not disgruntled or overtly concerned, Utapau was a place of little flora and fauna. What fauna and flora existed was much more hideous in nature than the plants and wildlife of the Nightmare Lands.
An opening in the trees bode poorly for Fein, for it wasn't the sight of the lake that which worried his mind but that which was beyond. A small island, not too far yonder from where he stood. A shine sat imbedded in the soil with tablets of mysterious power, and it was the Voss Mystrics that encircled this shrine. They were meditating, sitting down with eyes closed. The Pau'an remained standing, watching from a tree, holding his hands against the bole. He felt a mixture of yearning for microbinoculars, to study and watch the dangerous Mystics, but to likewise flee from the place. The latter was his only choice, he needed to find the crystal caves and construct his lightsaber.
Fein drew away from the treeline and drove himself deeper into the darkest depths of the Nightmare Lands. It was a surprise to him when he a granite wall seemed to rise up before his very eyes. The thick and dense forest had hid any sign of a cliff face. He took a step back in surprise and opened his mouth. Yellow dagger-like teeth revealed themselves, pointing towards the centre of his mouth. A clear indication of his species carnivorous nature. He pursed his lips and moved towards the wall, placing a hand on the stone he craned his head left and right. It was to the left, further away from the lake, he saw what appeared to be an entrance. Fein turned and arched his back to walk under a low-hanging branch, approaching the pile of stones outside an entrance consumed in darkness.
Fein lowered his bag, opening it to retrieve the contents. Wires, conductors and a metal cylinder, everything required to make a lightsaber. Fein knew this, for he had constructed another, a long time ago. He pulled out the last of the objects from the bag, a black hilt of a lightsaber, crimson focusing crystal. Fein fell to a crouch, it was here in the Nightmare Lands he would bury his past. Fein dug his fingers into the soil, collecting grime under his nails as he began to dig with his hands. The small hole was enough to lay the flat of the hilt and bury it. He stood, stomping on the mound to flatten it. It was as though nothing had ever been buried. He gazed over the materials, and most notably the strange and foreign Wintrium.
Wintrium, a liquid that spouted from the Fountain of Ancients in the Derelkoos Desert on Klatooine. At it reached the surface, it reacted with the dry desert air to create a glass-like material, appearing to be frozen intime. Wintrium became harder as it aged, and given enough time it could become nearly indestructible. It was only the smallest of pieces, it would act as the pommel for the hilt. Fein Medon turned his gaze to the cave, and entered. Instantly he was encompassed by the darkness, unable to see. He closed his eyes and relied on the force, pushing himself onward. He felt where to go, trusting his instinctual nature to guide him. A tugging of his mind told him to open his eyes, and he did. The cave was no longer dark, but illuminated by a thousand different crystals.
It's a Nightmare
Voss, home of the Silver Jedi. Its beauty was never-ending, the sights of the world were beyond compare. Forests, mountains, plateaus, oceans all interwoven into the landscape. Fein Medon felt a sense of both anticipation and dread. He would enter the Nightmare Lands alone, to construct a new lightsaber. He had the materials on him, but now only required a focusing crystal. The Pau'an had a resplendent view of a valley that sprouted forth from where he stood. He was a hundred meters above the riverbed below, where the crashing sound of the waterfalls and colliding with the river met. Pine trees marked his location, stripped of leaves, gnarled and dead.
The overgrowth of the forest was dense, and under the sway of a corrupt influence. The region was inhabited by wildlife that had been tainted, Gormak natives who had been corrupted, and Voss Mystics—members of the native Voss species—who had gone mad. Fein had studied the region and learnt that long ago during the Voss-Gormak war, if the war had continued, the Nightmare Lands could have continued to expand and could have eventually covered Voss. It was both a troubling and interesting thought. The aspirant Jedi Archaeologist knelt down, placing the straps of his bag over his shoulders. He gave the beautiful valley one final look, he felt a great presence in the distance beyond the horizon; the Silver Jedi. Fein Medon turned his back to the beautiful sight and took a step into the Nightmare Lands.
The trek would be treacherous and lonely, but one Fein was determined to complete. Where once emerald blades of grass had flourished, bathing in the sunlight, it now rotted. The grass held a sickly yellow-orange tinge to its colour. Fein Medon wore traditional robes of his culture, mostly found on Utapau. The fabric was long enough that his feet were barely visibly, only the toes of his boots protruded from the robes, matching the colour. The maroon-coloured robe was fashioned with absolute precision, each fold in the fabric had been carefully attended to by several tailors, perfecting grace, mobility and fashion. The folds came high up, curling around the neck of the Pau'an
The further Fein Medon travelled into the Nightmare Lands, the calmer he became. It seemed to be preemptive anxiety that had overwhelmed his emotions prior to his journey. There was little sunlight that burst through the rotting branches, but enough to light his path. His black eyes gazed upon a garden of glowing mushrooms, he made sure to keep walking, but the flora was nonetheless interesting. Trees as large as cruisers squatted here and there, scratches tattooed their bark foretelling of conflicts past. Not a leaf in sight, it was as though everything pure in the world had come here to die. Even when surrounded by death, Fein Medon was not disgruntled or overtly concerned, Utapau was a place of little flora and fauna. What fauna and flora existed was much more hideous in nature than the plants and wildlife of the Nightmare Lands.
An opening in the trees bode poorly for Fein, for it wasn't the sight of the lake that which worried his mind but that which was beyond. A small island, not too far yonder from where he stood. A shine sat imbedded in the soil with tablets of mysterious power, and it was the Voss Mystrics that encircled this shrine. They were meditating, sitting down with eyes closed. The Pau'an remained standing, watching from a tree, holding his hands against the bole. He felt a mixture of yearning for microbinoculars, to study and watch the dangerous Mystics, but to likewise flee from the place. The latter was his only choice, he needed to find the crystal caves and construct his lightsaber.
Fein drew away from the treeline and drove himself deeper into the darkest depths of the Nightmare Lands. It was a surprise to him when he a granite wall seemed to rise up before his very eyes. The thick and dense forest had hid any sign of a cliff face. He took a step back in surprise and opened his mouth. Yellow dagger-like teeth revealed themselves, pointing towards the centre of his mouth. A clear indication of his species carnivorous nature. He pursed his lips and moved towards the wall, placing a hand on the stone he craned his head left and right. It was to the left, further away from the lake, he saw what appeared to be an entrance. Fein turned and arched his back to walk under a low-hanging branch, approaching the pile of stones outside an entrance consumed in darkness.
Fein lowered his bag, opening it to retrieve the contents. Wires, conductors and a metal cylinder, everything required to make a lightsaber. Fein knew this, for he had constructed another, a long time ago. He pulled out the last of the objects from the bag, a black hilt of a lightsaber, crimson focusing crystal. Fein fell to a crouch, it was here in the Nightmare Lands he would bury his past. Fein dug his fingers into the soil, collecting grime under his nails as he began to dig with his hands. The small hole was enough to lay the flat of the hilt and bury it. He stood, stomping on the mound to flatten it. It was as though nothing had ever been buried. He gazed over the materials, and most notably the strange and foreign Wintrium.
Wintrium, a liquid that spouted from the Fountain of Ancients in the Derelkoos Desert on Klatooine. At it reached the surface, it reacted with the dry desert air to create a glass-like material, appearing to be frozen intime. Wintrium became harder as it aged, and given enough time it could become nearly indestructible. It was only the smallest of pieces, it would act as the pommel for the hilt. Fein Medon turned his gaze to the cave, and entered. Instantly he was encompassed by the darkness, unable to see. He closed his eyes and relied on the force, pushing himself onward. He felt where to go, trusting his instinctual nature to guide him. A tugging of his mind told him to open his eyes, and he did. The cave was no longer dark, but illuminated by a thousand different crystals.
