Private The King is Dead

[Meira Amavia]

Meira emerged from the brambles, a princess tattered and torn. Fresh morning dew wet her hair and chilled her skin, for she’d spent the whole of the night in the woods. The swathes of fabric of her elaborate gown were a blessing and a curse, protecting her from the sharp thorns, but requiring much effort to drag along through the mud and brush. She reached down with trembling hands and let the outer skirt fall away. After all, it would be impossible to hide in such finery.

Hiding. Even here, on her own home-world.

She was drained, too numb to truly process what had happened. Too weak to even mourn. But even in this strange fever-dream, she knew one thing: she was no longer safe here. Men in dark colors had chased -- had been determined to capture her-- but Meira had managed to escape, only just. Now, everyone could be an enemy… there was no telling.

As she made her way to the town square, her silk slippers soggy and leaving wet prints upon the ground, she turned her lilac eyes about. The morning market; a good place to get lost in the crowd and hopefully find help. A textile vendor caught her eye, but it wasn’t the vibrant and exotic fabrics today… It was a simple woolen traveling cloak. When the woman minding the stall wasn’t looking, she slipped one of the cloaks away and wrapped it around her small frame. And she lifted the voluminous hood to shadow her face.

Meira’s steps were unsteady, but somehow delicate. She swayed as the morning sun lit the way through the alleys, and she found herself leaning -- or clinging -- to the side of a building. Her eyes wanted to close. The young princess was not ready to fight a war, not within her own mind and body and certainly not with a sword and shield. She had not succumbed, had not died like her mother, father, and the rest of the royal court. She could feel the poison in her veins, held at bay by the weak flow of the force.

But for how much longer?

Jacen Nimdok

 

[Jacen Nimdok]

Nimdok had spotted the young woman in a torn and dirty dress some minutes ago. At first, he thought she was a beggar or vagrant hoping for scraps; the strange way that she moved, all daintiness and delicacy despite a tired and feverish look, made him think she might have been lunatic, or at least disturbed. Without totally disregarding her presence, he avoided gazing directly at what he considered a pitiful and sad circumstance.

"Are you going to stand there and stare, or are you going to buy something, outlander?"

The corners of Nimdok's eyes crinkled as he peered at the annoyed vendor, though he did not smirk. "Apologies. I was lost in thought." Turning to his daughter Miri, he said, "You keep wandering over here. Do you want something?"

Miri shifted her weight from foot to foot. Her father had told her she could pick out one item from anywhere in the marketplace, provided it didn't cost an arm and a leg. She found the variety overwhelming. "I dunno," she replied, turning her head to look at something over her shoulder.

Nimdok followed her gaze and found the young woman from earlier. She had acquired a cloak and was now deliberately hiding her face. Miri's brow furrowed at the sight. Clearly she was seeing something he could not.

"Is something wrong with her?" he asked in a low voice.

Miri shrugged. "I think she's sick. And scared." One corner of her mouth curled upward. "She stole that cloak."

Nimdok raised an eyebrow, glancing back at the cloaked woman again. Miri's amusement made him feel guilty. She was old enough to know that much of his work amounted to robbery. "Well, perhaps you should buy it for her," he said. "Since you can't find anything for yourself, and it's clear she doesn't have the money for it herself..."

Miri wrinkled her nose at the idea of wasting her gift on someone else, but soon Nimdok could see the wheels turning in her head. Her father was testing her morals to see if she would do the right thing. What's more, he was right—she couldn't find anything here she truly wanted. Opportunities for gifts would come and go, but a situation like this was rarer. Pleased with herself, she grabbed his hand and dragged him over to the woman who had been selling the cloak. Nimdok cleared his throat. "My apologies—it seems my daughter took something from your stall without paying for it. I told her she could have one gift today, and in her eagerness she grabbed it without telling me first."

The woman looked slightly bewildered, but once Nimdok gestured toward the girl clad in the stolen cloak, and then at the wallet in his hand, she dismissed the details and quickly named her price. It wasn't extravagant. Good. Nimdok handed over the money, then turned toward the cloaked thief. She was leaning against the side of a building. "Sick and scared, hm?" he murmured. "Well, I hope it's not contagious."

With Miri at his side, he approached Meira slowly and carefully, mindful that she might not be in the best state of mind. "Pardon me," he said, catching her attention. His gaze was briefly drawn down toward her silk slippers, soaked and muddy like the hem of her gown. Curious. "You wouldn't happen to be in need of assistance, would you?"

Meira Amavia​

 

[Meira Amavia]

Meira pressed one palm against the cold stone of the building next to her, and her other clutched the front of her cloak with white knuckles. A woman with a basket full of bread gasped when she saw the cloaked woman, and hid her market goods away under the folds of her cloak. Likewise, others passed her by, too, all of them seemingly disgusted by the sight of her ragged form.

Now, her own people looked down on her.

She couldn't fault them, knowing she must look like a plague carrier. This did, however, alert her to the fact that eyes were upon her now – one pair in particular seemed to stare through her. She could hear footfalls coming closer, she stiffened. And when the shadow of a man fell over her, Meira bowed her head and began to shrink away. As she began to turn and retreat, his polite words made her pause. There was warmth there in his tone.

Her hooded face turned to glance over her shoulder at the man – a pair, actually, now that she saw the young girl at his side – and she took a quick appraisal. They were different; the pointed ears were a giveaway. Meira could also sense the dark-haired girl, an awareness that came into the back of her mind. Her own force presence, weak at the moment, may or may not register.

Meira nodded slowly. “Please,” she said, turning towards them again. “I... need...”

What did she need? Even she did not know – but perhaps these strangers could help figure out her predicament.

“A remedy.”

Jacen Nimdok

 

[Jacen Nimdok]

Nimdok's brow furrowed with concern. Up close, he now noticed a certain wrongness about the young woman, as though something unnatural clung to her. It was dark and twisted, tainting the body very much like a disease or a poison.

Poison.

A spark of recognition. He knew someone who had been afflicted like this. The method used to cure her, however, was quite complicated, and he was not capable of performing the rituals involved. This young woman might know what to do, however. After all, she was aware enough of her condition to ask for a remedy.

"I see. Should I escort you to a doctor, or is there somewhere else you'd rather go?" he asked. "Do you know anyone who might be able to help you?"

Meira Amavia​

 

[Meira Amavia]

Meira let go of the breath she'd been hold in, and with it a wave of nausea ebbed, allowing her a brief moment of clarity. She had only ever been treated by the royal physician, but he... was no longer an option. Indeed there were others, but the thought was interrupted by a flash of blue in the center square.

A holo-projector came to life, and a man's dark visage appeared etched in blue light.

“Citizens,” he began. “Our beloved King is dead.”

Beneath the hood, Meira's eyes grew wide.

“Our loss is greater still, for the queen and royal court have been killed as well. Murdered.” There was a pause, no doubt to let these words sink in. There were gasps, and many women in the square had already begun to weep. “The sole survivor – the Princess – is the prime suspect. She must answer for this crime.”

The holo-cast continued, but Meira had stopped listening. Her heart was pounding. The person behind this... she knew not of his or her intentions beyond an obvious hunger for power. But there was little time to sit and dwell. Steeling her nerves, she attempted to maintain control and keep from hinting the obvious.

“Apothecary,” she said in answer to the stranger's question. “Outside of town.”

It was now most important to get out of town.

Jacen Nimdok

 

[Jacen Nimdok]

Like most of the other people in the marketplace, Nimdok's attention was drawn to the abrubt holo-cast. The townspeople around him reacted far more strongly to the news, their faces displaying shock. There were a few emotional outbursts, tears and wailing. The cheerful, bustling atmosphere in the marketplace had been shattered.

Under normal circumstances, Nimdok would've opted to leave immediately, either traveling to a different city or country, or departing this planet altogether. So when the young woman quickly told him she needed to see an apothecary outside of town, he nodded.

"That sounds like a good idea," he replied, taking Miri's hand. "Let's go."

Meira Amavia​

 

[Meira Amavia]

Meira's eyes lingered on the man hand-in-hand with the young girl. A stab of sorrow, for she used to walk this way with her own father. And it was beginning to settle in now – he was dead. After all, even during her frantic escape, she'd seen his him glassy-eyed and cold on the floor.

She nodded and turned to walk down the alley leading them away from the square.

With hunched shoulders and pale face shadowed by a simple hood, she was nothing like the princess everyone knew. If anything, her unfortunate condition did make for a good disguise. And now, she knew that keeping a low profile would be the key to her survival – and perhaps these strangers, too. Meira indicated the edge of the city, where the apothecary was located.

“T-thank you for helping,” she managed between ragged breaths. “To whom do I owe my gratitude?”

Jacen Nimdok

 

[Jacen Nimdok]

"Professor Nimdok," he replied. "It's no trouble. We're headed in the same direction."

As they walked down the alleyway, Miri kept turning her head to glance over her shoulder. Nimdok noted her strange behavior and opened up a silent telepathic channel to ask a question. <What is it?>

She looked up at him. Rather than an answer in words, he received a feeling of being watched, scrutinized, studied by the eyes of a stranger. They were being followed, albeit at a distance. Their pursuer was sizing them up, trying to decide whether they were worth chasing.

Nimdok nodded in acknowledgement, but didn't change his pace. Speeding up or slowing down would only attract attention. Instead, he focused on the young woman with them, his tone as polite and warm as always. "And who might I be escorting today?"

Meira Amavia​

 

[Meira Amavia]

“Well met, Professor,” she said, glancing at him sidelong, a flicker of lilac from beneath the hood. Despite the company of Nimdok and the girl, Meira was still very much balancing on the knife's edge. However, her calm and collected nature helped immensely. The pain was still there and the guilt and the fear, too.

Speaking of fear, there was a pang within.

It was that spark of the force that spoke of danger looming. But was it just the poison flowing in her veins or something even more sinister? The dark-haired girl seemed to have noticed it as well.

When her own introduction was called for, she faltered. “Mei--” she started to say, but halted abruptly. She brought a slender hand up to cover a fit of coughing. No matter her own situation, she did not wish to deceive these people. Even if her own life was very much on the line, lying felt wrong.

“You can call me May,” she stated calmly as she could. It was a name that her father had called her as a child. But she did not wish to linger too long on her own identity. After all, there were eyes upon them. As they left the center of town behind, the path turned from masonry to dirt. Up ahead, there was a cluster of wooden buildings – simpler than the ones in the square. Waiting for them would be a sign with a cauldron.

Meira bit her lip.

“I.. haven't any payment for the remedy – if indeed they have one.”

Jacen Nimdok

 

[Jacen Nimdok]

"Without meaning any offense, I had a feeling you would say that." Finding the apothecary, he held the door open for May and Miri to walk in ahead of him. "Don't worry about money."

The interior of the apothecary was pleasantly rustic, the shelves lined with multi-colored glass vials and bottles. There were also a few pickled ingredients and jars with strange labels. Nimdok smiled to himself, but he had a feeling they wouldn't find a remedy in a place like this.

An older fellow who had to be the apothecary himself stood behind the counter. He eyed the newcomers as they entered his shop, peering through thick glasses. "How can I help you?"

Nimdok approached the counter. "This young lady is sick. She asked me to bring her here. Can you help her?"

The apothecary turned to May, scrutinizing her. "What are her symptoms?" Once she had answered, he asked, "How did you fall ill in the first place? Was it something you consumed, an injury, a spell...?"

Meira Amavia​

 

[Meira Amavia]

As she stepped inside the Apothecary's shop, she was met by an array of strange and mysterious goods. And the air held a herbal scent that she couldn't identify, but it was pleasant. Warm light filtered through glass vials, casting colorful hues and dark shadows.

Meira stood just to the side of Nimdok as the an older man addressed them. And she stiffened when the apothecary asked about her affliction. “Fever, nausea, cough, weakness...” She realized, with a sinking feeling, that she didn't truly know the answer to the apothecary's second question. She thought back...

She remembered revelry. The banquet. Everyone, including herself, had been having such a splendid afternoon. That is, until the first person fell to the ground, seemingly ill. Others began to heave and some even coughed blood. Meira remembered the sound of glass or porcelain breaking upon the floor. Something in the tea or the mead or the food.

“Consumed,” she answered uncertainly. “I believe.” And Meira nodded her head, perhaps trying to convince herself as well. However, with her limited amount of information, she was given something of a remedy for malaise – a vial of medicine, a small brown bag of tea leaves, and a ground substance that would help absorb poison. Meira clutched the paper-wrapped parcel to her chest, and thanked the apothecary. However, the heavy feeling in the pit of her stomach filled her with doubt.

“My thanks--” she said, looking at Nimdok.

Her words were cut short by the sound of heavy footfalls on approach...a guard.

Jacen Nimdok

 

[Jacen Nimdok]

After May answered his questions, the apothecary went to gather a few items. Leaning against the counter, Nimdok crossed his arms over his chest as he watched the apothecary scurry around the shop. He had a distinct feeling, judging by the sort of items being chosen—generic medicine, tea leaves, powders to cure food poisoning—that they were wasting their time here. These things would not help May if she was suffering from the sort of ailment he suspected.

But he could have been mistaken. After all, first impressions were rarely correct. His eyes drifted toward May, studying her again. All the same signs were there: a dark taint, like a pungent, unpleasant stench.

The apothecary suddenly cleared his throat loudly and deliberately, trying to deter Miri from touching one of the blue glass bottles on a shelf. "Pretty, aren't they? Don't touch them." He handed the package of remedies he had compiled together to May. She mumbled her gratitude, all while looking as doubtful as Nimdok felt as to their effectiveness.

It was then that the door opened, letting in a guard. He was a large man who walked with heavy steps, clad in uniform and armed. The apothecary regarded him much the same way he had the others. "May I help you?"

"Looking for a beggar girl," the guard replied, clearly a man of few words. "Stole a cloak from the marketplace."

"I'm afraid there's been a misunderstanding," Nimdok said. "She didn't steal anything. I bought the cloak for her. Just as I'm here now to buy her medicine."

The guard shook his head. "Here to escort her back to state-sponsored housing. They give her food and shelter. She doesn't have to rely on the kindness of strangers."

"Ah." He pretended to be losing interest, but that was far from the case. Escort her back? Had she run away? "Although if that's true, you should take her to a medical center first. She is quite ill."

"We will administer aid as needed."

"Good." Nimdok shot May a questioning glance. "I'm sure she's glad to hear it."

Meira Amavia​

 

[Meira Amavia]

Meira froze as the guard made it clear he was looking for her. She hugged the parcel close to her chest as Nimdok attempted to clear the air. Meanwhile, the apothecary's head swiveled back and forth, watching the scene unfold before him. Despite the guard's terse words of assurance, she knew that there would be no aid given to her.

Whoever was behind the attack must have noticed her absence; the empty spot on the floor of the banquet hall.

The guard moved forward and grabbed hold of her wrist with a black-gloved hand. Meira flashed a wide-eyed glance at Nimdok, and struggled against the strong man's grip. She was no match. Her feet did not move, but her slippers began to slide along the wooden floor boards as the guard tugged.

“No,” she said weakly. “Please...”

The man threw her a stern look as if to say: save your breath. Panic rose inside Meira's chest. This guard was danger; she could not let him take her away. Before the man could secure her in a better grip, her free hand shot towards his chest, throwing him back with the force. His large form hit the wall, rattling bottles and shaking vials loose from their racks.

At the same time, Meira fell to her hands and knees.

Fast, ragged breaths shook her petite frame. And there was a small flow of blood at the corner of her lips. “I.. cannot stay... here -- on this world.” She looked up to Nimdok, her eyes pleading.

Jacen Nimdok

 

[Jacen Nimdok]

The guard, while injured, was not out of commission yet. He staggered to his feet, pulling his blaster. Miri ran to her father's side, frightened by the sudden violence. Nimdok covered her eyes with one hand and reached toward the guard with his other.

"You don't need to shoot anyone," he said, his voice suffused with commanding power. Hesitating, the guard stood with his blaster pointed downwards. Nimdok pressed further. "You want to put your blaster away."

Slowly, the guard complied, holstering his weapon. Nimdok noticed the dire state May seemed to be in, on her hands and knees and bleeding from the mouth. Had she been hit? He'd heard no shots fired. Stray glass, maybe? No. The poison...

The guard made a guttural, restless noise. Nimdok reasserted control. "You injured yourself. You must go to a hospital at once."

Heavy, dragging footsteps left the building, slamming the door in their wake. The apothecary blinked, pursing his lips. "I'm going to file a complaint about this."

Sighing, Nimdok lowered his hand from Miri's eyes to her shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze. That could've gone better, but at least it wasn't any worse. He turned to May. "Can you stand?" he asked. If she said no, he would help her to her feet. "I don't know what's going on here, but tea leaves and powders aren't going to cure you." He glanced back at the apothecary. "No offense. I can get you offworld, but you owe me an explanation. I can't help you—really help you—unless you tell me how."

Meira Amavia​

 

[Meira Amavia]

The sight of the blaster made her go rigid. She’d acted out of instinct, to protect herself. And she certainly had not meant to put Nimdok, his daughter, and the apothecary in danger. If he shot, she would not resist; she couldn’t, for she did not have the strength. Her head turned slightly, viewing Nimdok out of the corner of her eye, what was visible beyond the woolen hood.

His voice was infused with a very persuasive calm. Meira knew what was happening, but she hadn’t sensed the flow of the force in Nimdok -- until now. No doubt, there was a reason… perhaps a result of her weakened state.

Meira was flooded with relief when the guard made his exit, at the skillful bidding of Nimdok.

Her pale hand reached up to accept assistance from the Professor, until she stood before them -- all eyes upon her, waiting for an answer. If anything, she owed him this. Stepping towards the door, she slid the lock in place to keep any unwanted visitors from intruding. And as she turned back towards the trio, she let the hood drop down to reveal chestnut hair, a deathly white countenance, and tired lilac eyes.

“Princess!” The apothecary stood straight. “Is that you?”

She nodded, then turned her attention to Nimddok. “My name is Meira Amavia; I am the princess of Lyria,” she began. “There was truth in the holo-cast you heard in the square -- my family and court were… murdered.” Saying the word aloud felt like being choked. “However, I did not kill them. They were poisoned, like me... but did not survive as I have.” Meira had to wonder, however, if she would be soon to join them.

Despite the ill effects of the poison, there was clarity in her gaze. And if he doubted her sincerity by the tone of her voice alone, perhaps he felt it within the force.

“I…” she attempted to continue, unsure quite how to put it. “I believe I have been afflicted by… something dark -- I am unsure myself exactly what it is.” Her expression clouded. “Do you know the Jedi?” A flicker of hope made her eyes widen. “T-they may be able to help.”

Jacen Nimdok

 

[Jacen Nimdok]

If it hadn't been for the apothecary's recognition, Nimdok might've been inclined to be skeptical. The young woman could just as easily have been lying about her identity to escape punishment, or she could simply be mad. But that single word exclamation "Princess!" was enough to turn the tables in her favor.

"I see," Nimdok said. "That certainly explains a great deal." It also complicated things much more than expected.

"I read a book like this once," Miri commented. "The princess got betrayed by her lady-in-waiting, who tried to kill her. The princess escaped and hid by pretending to be a goose girl. Then she fell in love with the prince and they defeated the evil lady together by stabbing all her guards and throwing her in the dungeon."

"How very... colorful." Nimdok turned to May—no, Princess Meira—and added, "I see why you're in such a hurry to get offworld." He produced the keys to a starship, holding them up for her to see. "I can certainly take you to the Silver Jedi for treatment, though I can't guarantee they'll be able to help you. If you're suffering from Sith poison, as I suspect, it is not something easily cured with typical Jedi healing techniques. But we can discuss this more later. If the guards are indeed looking for you, we should leave immediately."

Meira Amavia​

 

[Meira Amavia]

Meira's eyes dipped towards the floor for a moment, the full weight of things were settling in for her and Nimdok, too. She felt a measure of guilt for burdening him and his daughter, visitors to her world. Her gaze shifted and softened when Miri spoke of a story she knew. She offered an faint, but appreciative smile. Though, she doubted her own story would have such a happy ending.

Her shoulders dropped slightly when the Professor mentioned that even the Jedi may be unable to help. Sith poison. The words clung to her mind, darkness lingering so close. Indeed she had heard of the Sith, but her own knowledge was quite limited. Her Jedi Master had visited this world, but she had not entertained the possibility of Sith walking the streets as well. A foolish oversight.

“I apologize for the trouble,” she said, words directed to the apothecary – but truly meant for all of them. Meira lifted the hood well over her face once more, and nodded to Nimdok. It was clear to her that the guards were no longer loyal to her or her family, things here on Lyria were changing swiftly.

As she unlatched the door and pulled it open, the area outside was quiet.

“If... they cannot heal me,” she said in a hushed voice. “Is there any way?”

Jacen Nimdok

 

[Jacen Nimdok]

Nimdok tossed the apothecary a few credits. "For your silence on this matter, and to help pay for the damages," he said. Then he took Miri's hand and followed the princess out the door.

The streets outside town were relatively quiet. A few people were milling about, but there had been a definite decrease in activity, presumably due to the holocast from earlier detailing the national tragedy. Everyone had either gone home or was trying to get home.

"There's always a way," Nimdok replied. "In fact, I know someone who suffered like you do. She was cured by a special purification ritual, though not by the Jedi. The most famous sufferer of this ailment was Ulic Qel-Droma—according to the historical records, he was cured by a great emotional shock." He didn't elaborate further. As someone who had just lost her entire family, telling the princess of how Ulic had killed his own brother in a duel wouldn't be appropriate.

Meira Amavia​

 

[Meira Amavia]

Beneath her hood, Meira perked up slightly when Nimdok spoke. Not only was there a way to cure her, he knew of someone with the same affliction. She looked sidelong at the professor, and mused about the strange pull of fate – no, the pull of the force – that brought them together.

“You have given me hope, Professor,” she said quietly. “I will repay your kindness somehow.”

Silently, she made herself a solemn vow to do so. As they walked, she turned a glance over her shoulder. The fringes of the city were still, and she imagined the city square was much the same. What would happen to her world without her family? The question lingered in her mind. Though there was a dark cloud shadowing her world now, Meira had the feeling that life would go on.

She hoped her people would not suffer at the hands of whoever had taken charge.

The princess felt tremendous anxiety when she thought of what the future would bring. For now, she drew a deep breath and tried to focus her energy on staying upright on two feet and walking towards the unknown.

“Where do we go now?” she asked after a time, looking to Nimdok.

Jacen Nimdok

 

[Jacen Nimdok]

Nimdok granted the princess a look which acknowledged her gratitude, then replied, "This way."

He led them down a street which followed along the outskirts of the city, headed for the starport where his ship, an old freighter, was parked. While he hoped they would have no more incidents along the way, he fully expected they would run into trouble. At the very least, the deaths of the royal family might lead to travel restrictions, in which case they couldn't leave the planet. He wasn't sure if they would bother keeping a visiting foreigner earthbound, but who knew?

"I assume you don't have documentation or a starport visa," he said to Princess Meira. "Even if you did, it would give away your identity, and we can't have that. Either we'll have to find you one, or I will be forced to persuade our way through customs."

Meira Amavia​