keep the oaths of old
She had pleaded her case. Sought forgiveness. And now she stood before the council chamber, staring at the narrow crack where the doors would, she hoped, soon part...and the council would bid her return to the Order's fold.
Every second that passed stretched into an eternity.
If she could rewrite the last several months, Cerys would. She would have handled the revelation of her former Oathwarden master's true nature with more composure. The news of her parentage had shaken her profoundly. She had recoiled, denied the truth of Master En-Vala’s role as her mother, and fled into the galaxy in search of another master within the Oathwarden Order.
If that had been all she’d done, perhaps her request to return would raise less concern.
But it was not all she had done.
No. What she had done was far worse than fearing the truth and running. She had abandoned Brandyn, left Balun and their team of Republic intelligence operatives stranded amid a Sith ambush. While their lives hung in the balance, her thoughts had turned only to faking her death and escaping.
It was more than hope that kept her eyes fixed on the crack in the doors. Shame rooted her in place. Shame for believing anyone would support a deserter. Shame for thinking herself worthy of forgiveness. Shame for the un-Jedi path she had trodden, for the darkness she had flirted with.
Cerys watched the door, silently pleading that they would let her stay, and praying she could find some sliver of herself worthy of returning.
@Open