The Turning

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The Galactic Alliance did not need Cyril as much as he would have liked to think. They were capable on their own; those Jedi that had thrown their lot in with the Alliance better off without whatever guidance he might have given. He would return, in due time, but there were other pressing matters to attend to. Ossus called.

He could not explain why, other than the fact that something was terribly wrong. The One Sith were a tangible threat, but there was something more, a beast skirting the edge of the galaxy's collective sight. What it was, Cyril had no idea, but he intended to find out. His instincts drove him back to Ossus; a world with far more bad than good in the Jedi Master's past.

It was here that he'd created the rift that eventually grew between himself and the Jedi Order. It was here that things had changed for the worst. It was here that his very identity was ripped from him in favor of something lesser.

A Jedi was said not to feel hate, but Cyril was a living reminder that not all of the Knights were perfect. Where there should have been peace, a calm in the storm, there was only disdain; a hurricane of emotions warring within him. He would have no peace so long as he stepped foot on this world.

His shuttle roared over the treeline. The forest below, long since scarred by Vong-shaping, seemed to reach up to snatch the vessel out of the sky. Branches skirted against the bottom of the shuttle's hull; leaves splattered across the view port. Flying this low was incredibly dangerous, and incredibly necessary. This was a Republic world, but Ossus's indigenous people were not fond of strangers, Jedi or not.

With not small amount of luck, the shuttle managed to settle down south of the old Jedi temple. This one was far older than those restored by the Republic, ancient in fact. Something within called Cyril, and he was eager to answer.

Clad in his traditional robes, he departed the ship. His clothing was little more than tapered Jedi robes, so that they did not flow behind him, phrik gauntlets, legplates, and a chestplate. The rest of his armor was left aboard. He carried only one lightsaber today -- his own.

Whatever awaited in that temple was going to have a hard time killing him, if that was its intention. Such things were hard to tell given how shrouded in the Dark Side this part of the galaxy had become.

[member="Kai Acheron"]

 

[Kai Acheron]

Ossus was a strange world, one that had been rumored to be beautiful during its prime, but that was before it was effectively glassed many years ago. True, it had since been Vong-shaped, and was once more inhabitable, though that was up to a questionable standard. It was, however, an improvement over a desolate wasteland, with howling winds and dust storms that blinded you. Something that made even Tatooine pale in comparison, or so he’d been told in the past, and it wasn’t something that had been on his bucket list.

Life had a peculiar way of calling forth opportunities for individuals however, and Kai was no exception. He’d been drawn here on a whimsical clue that had been laid before him in a since abandoned archive. A chain of events, really. One archive or ruin lead to another, which then lead to another. The cycle was practically limitless, and he’d neared the count of sixteen visits across the galaxy before stopping the tally. At this point, the young man did his best to keep a positive outlook and focus on the end-goal, which was becoming more difficult as time transpired.

When he first landed, the apprentice had been confronted by another person — something that he hadn’t been expecting, admittedly, only to find that the world had since been re-inhabited by a minor civilization. Jedi, no less. A minute, all but forgotten temple for training purposes. He wasn’t particularly fond of them, but then again…force sensitives weren’t exactly in his ‘friendly’ book, experience wise. Most living beings weren’t.

It was uncommon for him to cross paths with someone that was capable of manipulating the Force to their will, and not be judged by it. Looked at like he was a rare specimen to be studied, interrogated, and imprisoned. Only that wasn’t all that far off from the truth. His origins were now considerably rare across the galaxy, all things considered. Jensaarai? Perhaps in one day and light they had been iconic figures. Before that insidious acolytes to a twisted vision of life and the Force. That was now all in the past though. Very few of them remained. A handful at most, scattered across the Outer Rim, and beyond.

He liked to think of himself as a candidate among the elite, though that was even worse of a thought-line that he didn’t want to submerge himself in. When it boiled down to the fact, he was mortal. Everyone was, really. There was no perfection. Balance, yes…but that wasn’t easy for anyone to achieve. Many didn’t even have any desire to do so. And then there were people who may or may not even be sensitive to the practically mystical power. They probably didn’t even care and preferred to live a, by definition, much simpler life.

At first, that was something he’d be ready to jump for. But he was getting way beyond what his purpose was now, having devoted himself through a promise to his now-deceased master to complete his training. Whether that was with help, or on his own, he truthfully had no clue.

Kai had been studying the etched glyphs along one of the towering walls in the underground ruins, when he could both hear and feel the familiar rumble of a starcraft engine roaring above. Probably another transport from the academy, though he seriously disbelieved if it existed. Who would be stupid enough to build another institute on top of, or near a previous one that had failed and been destroyed not once, not twice, but three times!

He sincerely hoped that it was the padawan he’d met earlier leaving. Though something rubbed the back of his mind that they would cross paths again all too soon. There wasn’t anything wrong with the guy, per say. Their personalities just … well… clashed. Not antagonistically, but rather different viewpoints, and Kai? Well…he wasn’t the best with words. Or any social interaction, really. It put him at odds with the vast majority of other encounters, and was also the prime reason no one wanted to take him as a pupil. He was unorthodox, and generally didn’t talk much. When he did? It wasn’t polished or tactful.

Spending the next twenty minutes placing recordings of the glyphs into the databanks of his armor suit that had seen better days, he paused to take a few moments rest and a swig of water from the canteen he’d brought along. A protein cube wouldn’t be a bad idea, but the other provisions were back on the ship… He’d just finished re-fixing the lid to the canteen when a tug towards the back of his mind practically screamed for attention.

Someone else was nearing. Their intentions weren’t known to him, but it was probably someone that the damned padawan alerted. Maybe he hadn’t been bluffing. Either way it didn’t matter. Clearly he wasn’t welcome here, or someone else had decided to come visit. Why anyone would risk a place such as this, when it was on the verge of collapsing, he didn’t know. But truthfully? The apprentice was desperate for answers, and was frankly running out of leads. When things got that far, you went to extreme lengths to see your efforts through.

Hopefully the newcomer wasn’t going to bring anything ill to darken his day…


[member="Cyril Grayson"]

 

[Placeholder 04]

There was something different about this place. Not in the obvious sense -- it was a ruined temple built by long dead monks, after all, but something else. A shift in the force; a change in the air not easily noticed. Cyril did not like it. He marched closer to the temple, paying little mind as to whether he would be seen or not. For a time, he'd been known as one of the galaxy's greatest bladesmen, and his command of the force was true to the Grayson name. There were few that could stand to match him.

"Ahead, do you feel it, that lingering sentiment? Something has disturbed these ruins. One of the living." Vulcanus growled. The Sith's spirit clung to Cyril like a thick fog, one he could only shake when the shade was not being stubborn. Now was not one of those times.

"More of my kind, perhaps? I can feel your heart racing. The bloodlust, the hate, these are what you are. Destroy whatever is causing this disturbance, and return to your...Alliance." The spirit continued. Cyril shook his head. "I'm no longer Sith. I've long since shed my titles."

"So you say."

The temple was quickly approaching. The creature Cyril had felt was tangible now, just on the edge of his perception. There was something else too -- a man. One who lay somewhere within the murky water of the force, not shining with the light, nor reveling in the darkness.

"I really don't want to deal with the Grays today," he lamented, "They're all so...stubborn."

That was when he caught sight of the stranger.Hhe was younger than Cyril by a few years, and seemed to be the source of that odd aura. The temple entrance lay just beyond, but the Jedi Master turned his attentions to the stranger instead.

"Fancy armor."

[member="Kai Acheron"]

 

[Kai Acheron]

Of course the engine that was heard overhead earlier hadn’t been bound for the newer residences on the planet. No, such was his luck that it was either a response to his own presence, or someone that had been equally stubborn and set out to do the same mission he had. Unlikely as it was, that was the only logical explanation, and Kai was more inclined to think the former was the most likely of the two. Neither were particularly desirable, given his own status, or rather lack thereof. These days in the galaxy it was best to be aligned with a faction, yet here he was without any support to speak of.

With the wind outside, it was difficult to hear the incoming footsteps approaching, but even lackluster as his sensitivity skills were, it was practically impossible to deny the fact that he felt something incurring on his current location. It was confusing really, and felt like more than one presence, each contradicting the other — both of which were potent. At first there was an immediate spike of darkness, only to be overshadowed quite ironically by the light, and then faded back into neutrality. It was…disorienting at best.

Quick to place his hand on the old blaster holstered to his hip, the apprentice continued to act absorbed by the runes carved out before him on the ancient walls. It was awe-striking in their own right that few others were here, and it wasn’t constantly being studied. But then again, there were more effective means of reciting and learning from such teachings — holocrons came immediately to mind. Something that his own Order had a serious lack of, after the countless skirmishes they had faced. There was no real ‘home’ for them any more, though many always fled back to their origins at Susevfi.

It was horrid to think that even though he’d practically been ignored…questionably disowned, that Kai still followed the teachings, and considered himself among those few. But that was because he knew nothing else. There was no family or fealties to speak of for him, that he was widely aware of. No real help, and while he wasn’t particularly arrogant, there was a sense of need to accomplish a great deal if not the entirety of his self-defined mission on his own. No, not pride, but a need for duty — in remembrance to his old master at the very least, if nothing else.

It was crazy. But then again, so was being here. In a dilapidated underground chasm of ruins, where there were no likely leads to further his progress, and he was placing himself in danger being here — unnecessarily so. Oh how he held a strong absence of caring for dealing with either extremity. It wasn’t hate, or enmity even really. Just sincere distrust. And it was likely that belief was shared. Most people hated those that walked the fine line. It wasn’t an easy path to tread, and most failed at doing it.

Drawn a moment by dialogue that had been thrust unceremoniously towards him in a humorous quip, his blaster was almost immediately in his hand, ready to be tossed aside by one, if not both of his lightsabers. This person was…he didn’t know what to think. Their presence in the Force was strong, there was no doubt about that. But there was much conflicting, like they were carrying something. A weight or burden. What, he couldn’t tell. There was no denying the uncomfortable air that laid between them, however.

“I could say the same for yours. But then again, it’s probably not a third-hand set that’s about three decades old,” he shot back in as light a tone as he was capable.

_____________
[member="Cyril Grayson"]

 

[Placeholder 04]

​There was always something off about the souls Cyril crossed during his ventures. It had been his duty since birth to help guide those along that would otherwise find themselves lost. That was the position the Graug priests had given him, and it was something he had clung to when the New Order fell. He came across so many damaged people because he was broken himself. Who better to help the shattered than one of their own? In this boy -- this young man, he felt that break. There was the force, but then there was something more. It was passion: a drive to do...something. Of what, Cyril had no idea, though part of him was yearning to find out. For his sake, Vulcanus remained silent, for now.

"I'm afraid mine's particularly new. About nine years; Ession craftsmanship. Stuff doesn't wear out," he offered a kindly smile, and drew back his cowl. He was still relatively young, though steadily on the path to becoming middle aged. Somewhere in his early thirties, perhaps? It was a common age for the younger Jedi Masters, of which Cyril was a proud member. There were so few left these days. "My name's Cyril Grayson. I fancy myself a Jedi Master, and the owner of a lovely tea shop on Sullust."

He kept his eyes on Kai, though his posture was relaxed. He had no intention of assaulting the kid. He had his own agenda for being here, and part of him wanted to know what the stranger's was. He strolled over toward the walls; eyes traveling over what some would consider to be archaic runes. It was rare if ever that people came to these glorified tombs anymore. There was too much danger, too little to be gained, too many memories for those present when the temples fell.

It seemed the Order was doomed to face religious persecution, no matter what age it stood in.

"I felt an odd presence here from the Outer Rim. Something malevolent deep within this ruin. It's not giving off anything now," he pressed a gloved hand to the wall, "-..but it's certainly still there."

[member="Kai Acheron"]

 

[Kai Acheron]

Almost tempted to roll his eyes at the statement that had been brushed in his direction, the younger of the two stood his ground with as little reaction as he was capable of. “Ossus has been leveled several times, the temples that once stood on it included. I wouldn’t be surprised if a great deal of the loss, anger, hate and whatever memories were left behind still linger today. Conglomerations of such material will do that…” he trailed off-wards. It was perhaps one of his rarer philosophical moments, but something he inherited from his master in one of her near-countless teachings. The person Kai wished was still with him, though he had no doubt she found some way to attach herself to him. Keep an eye on him.

While the two had been, for quite some time, a learning duo they were more than that. More than friends. No, not lovers — as many would expect, just heartfelt ties that resembled that of family, yet still knew where to draw the line. It was something that wasn’t particularly common outside of the Grey, and even then the traditional rigidity of most mentorships was still present. He’d gotten lucky when she selected him, aged as she was back then. Funny to think that Ashanos had been the one to find him on Arbra, convinced that he would make a significant difference in the Order. Not to legendary standards, or some fanatical ‘Chosen’ prophecy that countless children would be exhilarated to feel special on. She didn’t believe in that nonsense. Everyone was defined by their actions and deeds, not just their thoughts. There was no need to let any ‘far-seeeing’ storytelling predefine who was determined for greatness, and who was determined to be forgotten.

Kai continued to carry those teachings with himself, along with many others, and while he strove to remain strong it was difficult to admit that even the most skilled of persons needed help from time to time. Eventually he came to do so, silently, and had been traveling the quadrant for the better half of two months, in search of clues to find a real lead. Half of that time had been spent deciphering old runes and communiques, or gathering hearsay lore. It wasn’t something he was all that strong in, and from what he understood akin to those that spent most of their time studying the force rather than blade work. He was the latter — quick to pick up the lessons of wielding a civilized and comparatively elegant weapon, yet slow to discover the mysteries. Pity, considering his ultimate goal was to be one of the few that could walk the fine line — demonstrate the balance, and that it was possible with dedication. He knew in the long run, he had to learn…and master…both sides.

His eyes glossed over momentarily, scanning the newcomer cautiously. The man carried himself proudly at first, only to be relaxed a few moments before finally speaking towards the quite obviously less-experienced of the two. A Jedi. A strong sense of distaste washed over his mouth, but at least it was better than the alternative. The apprentice had never cared for either extremity. This man, however, at least had a sense of humor, even if it wasn’t completely spotlighted.

“So let me guess. You came from the newer temple, and were dispatched to shoo me off planet away from these sacred grounds. Perhaps while having a spot of tea, and discussing the darkness within?” Kai inquired towards him in a slightly off, yet amused tone. There was no harshness to his words, or any ill emotions, but rather curiosity with a hint of dangling with a minimal challenge. While his intentions weren’t to irritate the newcomer, a few seconds after ejecting the words, he realized that had he said it in a different tone, the same words could easily be offensive. Tactfulness was most definitely not his strength, and he was not destined to be a diplomat through traditional means.

__________
[member="Cyril Grayson"]

 

[Placeholder 04]

Aren't you a talker?

Cyril had almost been a father once. He'd taken fancy to an Imperial ranger during one of his escapades into One Sith territory. Relationships were not barred by the order, not for a long time, and she'd been mesmerizing. Together they stirred up the resistance on Balmorraa, and together they'd watched as half the planet was glassed by a Voice of the Dark Lord. All hopes of instilling rebellion within the One Sith were lost when the death toll came in. Operations of the kind were to cease immediately, and Cyril took the girl back to friendly space with him.

Things went well enough for around a year. It was the first time he'd ever felt any form of love toward a woman that was not family. He'd spirited her away to Naboo, the planet his mother ruled at the time, and they were married. The pregnancy came shortly after that, and the Order was calling him away. The Republic needed every man to deal with the One Sith threat. Cyril had refused; hung up his robes, and hid away his lightsaber -- unfortunately the pregnancy fell through, and his darling wife fell into a depression. In the waking hours of the morning she'd left. Cyril had searched, but she was nowhere to be found.

A year later she turned up as an Imperial Captain within the One Sith navy. He understood loss.

"Oh, I know. This was different. It called to me from Sullust," I could just be going crazy, "I've always been cursed with callings like that. They take me across the galaxy. Sometimes I find something, sometimes it slips through my fingers." He shrugged.

"As for the temple...no, not so much. I'm not from here, and I'm not particularly a fan of the place. I left the Republic a few years ago. I came here of my own accord." He offered a warm smile. He'd always had a soft spot for the underdogs, the lost, the misguided; this boy felt like he fit into all three categories. What harm could there be in dragging him along? Another lightsaber often came in handy near old ruins like this.

"If you want to discuss your own demons, feel free, though I'm not feeling very angsty today." That was a lie. "Either way, I'm going into this ruin. I could always use some company, though I can understand how enamored you might be with the wall scratchings." He cracked a thin smirk, a bit of challenge lacing his words. Then, without awaiting a reply, he marched inside.

[member="Kai Acheron"]

 

[Kai Acheron]

It was difficult to feel any further guilt from having a previously lengthy statement, after Kai finished listening to what the newcomer had brought forth. At the end of the lapse, there were several achievements and qualifiers placed on the table, which he was both weary of and thankful. At the minimum it was becoming vaguely more apparent that there was less need to be on guard against Cyril, than whatever the man continued to babble about. Clearly he’d seen a great deal in his life…it was that experience that Kai was tempted to question on whether it had turned him into lunacy, however.

Going on about cursed callings and claiming to be a Jedi Master was one thing. Later announcing that you had severed ties with the faction that had bolstered the practically religious order for so long was…perplexing, if anything. So he came here of his own accord, probably for some vision that the Force had granted to him. While Kai hadn’t been a medium by any means, there were apparently people that could predict the future limitedly, and see memories of the past. Not necessarily something he was willing to believe, but at the same time, he wasn’t willing to dismiss it as phony.

If anything, the Force had a very unpredictable way of working, and seemed to have at the very least a limited sentience. Quite probably more. It was always enigmatic, and moved slowly, but when it did make a play they were generally quite noticeable if you were paying attention. Either way, the apprentice was thrown off balance, and were it not for the knowledge he’d accumulated in his training, Kai would have believed Cyril to be a psychopath. Most non-sensitives likely would, and in truth he couldn’t blame them. It was hard to place faith anywhere blindly, and he’d only recently within the past decade learned to do so. In controlled capacity.

There wasn’t much, if any of an age difference between them, however it was more than clear that the taller man held a good deal more experience. Blame it on the fact that the one wearing antiquated armor was something of a ‘late bloomer’, though not out of his own choice. Kai was talented in learning most subjects quickly, if given an appropriate environment. He was also exceptionally skilled in wielding a lightsaber, for his age, but was also atypical in other approaches. Understanding, let alone manipulating the Force? He could do it. Just not all that well, by comparison to his other, far more practical abilities. That, combined with his ‘break the mold’ attitude made him difficult to sympathize with from the other masters, and had likely played a large factor in taking so long for becoming an apprentice. In the long run, he was fortunate that he wasn’t sent off to the other corps, because someone had clearly seen something in him that was promising.

There was no immediate self-doubt within him, but a sheer absence of arrogance was also present within his being. Leave it to the likelihood that he was truthfully unaware of what his untapped potential was, and just needed fine-tuning with a grace of polish. Not many people enjoyed change, however, and it would take a very persistent if not open mind to be capable of tolerating such a task.

“Sullust…right…” he droned, not completely convinced, but willing to give the man the benefit of the doubt without responding all that much verbally. “Look, I’m no clairvoyant, or whatever you might fancy yourself as, but if you claim you get ‘callings’, or ‘visions’…if that works for you then, go for it.” Shrugging in reciprocation, Kai eased his stance and removed his hand that had been actively resting on the grasp of his blaster.

His question had been answered, albeit not in a completely direct manner, and in truth that was all that he’d asked of the newcomer. One who was apparently about to leave him be to finish studying the runes etched along the walls, which he’d only limitedly been able to translate without a reference. Material that he had access to, but not on him — it was back at the ship, and there was no guarantee that what had been discovered thus far would be of any immediate use.

Truth be told, there was little he could say for the actual reason he was here. Much as he wasn’t willing to admit it, there had been leads, though rather vague ones that all pointed to Ossus, and its history. History that Kai had been learning for the past few days between the databanks and what he could decipher based on the walls he’d been keen on reading. That however, was not going to be the answer to what he needed. Not entirely at least. Learning from history was one thing, but what was it if there was another reason he didn’t know that he was here?

It was confusing, but then again, so was life. So was the Force. Sometimes you just had to trust blindly. You may gain from it, you may lose. But time would tell. “I’m not one to share my story to someone I just met. No offense. But I suppose I can spare some time, as a break from these legends from the past. Who knows? Maybe a better one will catch my eye deeper in…” Like Cyril before him, Kai had answered the query placed as an offer, though not in the most direct fashion. Certainly not commitment or a promise, but it was willingness to see what they would uncover that was the most important highlight.

_____________________

[member="Cyril Grayson"]

 

[Placeholder 04]

...and so they began!

Cyril was not entirely sure what to think of the boy. He certainly wasn't harmless; though he might be such toward the Jedi Master, at the least. He would very much prefer not being stabbed through the back during his forays into the galaxy's greatest ruins, thanks. Still, he found a bit of a kinship with the young man. Nothing particularly sticking, but he liked the attitude. the kid was honest. That was something a vast majority of the various Jedi splinter groups lacked these days. They preached peace, but were quick to hang anyone with a different view from the rafters. That wasn't what Cyril was about: he had a different prerogative. It started here, in this long dead temple.

"They work well enough. It's better than sitting on my shebs waiting for the war to run its course," he chuckled, "You start to trust these things over time." That was the truth. In the past, Cyril had openly made fun of those who relied on visions for guidance. The very idea of one letting the force guide them in such a way was preposterous. It was still a difficult concept to grasp even when he'd become a Sith Lord in his own right.

Dark days, those were.

He began the slow descent deeper into the temple. Whatever light there might have been vanished. He ignited his lightsaber, the cyan blade casting a ghostly blue glow on the walls. The hall itself was rather narrow, but large enough for the two to walk down without much issue. He'd long since gotten over his innate sense of claustrophobia. "Old lore is always at the center of these temples. Everything near the outside is either already known, or so ruined that it will never make sense." He mumbled distractedly. His fingers drew invisible lines across the walls: testing them for something. What it was could be anyone's guess. "I'm not the sort to pry. You've your privacy, and I've mine."

Though, I suppose I am a bit open about things compared to most.

Cyril shrugged at his own thoughts. The end of the hall opened into a great chamber that might have been a cafeteria, a dueling ring, or a teaching area. It was hard to tell given the degradation of the ages. Something thrummed deep within the temple; something like a heartbeat, but not quite alive. It felt like a tremor within the force, a sudden cold front on a sunny day. Then it was gone.

"Did you feel that?" He asked in what was barely a whisper.

[member="Kai Acheron"]

 

[Kai Acheron]

Difficult to discern what the other man’s intentions were, Kai kept a lofty distance from the grizzled person as he delved further into the temple. Scorch markings from either blaster or lightsaber engagements marked many of the pillars leading down into the depths of the now practically buried temple. Where there had likely once been a beautifully polished grand staircase now lied a withered and tarnished slope of rubble that made it difficult not to slip upon. There was no wonder why anyone refused to go in here, between the legend of how many deaths had taken place here, and the fact that the building was quite probably structurally unsound. Held together probably by the lingering remnants of the Force and what little held steadfast of the at-the-time quality architecture.

There was a certain art form to such constructs, there was no doubt about that in the apprentice’s mind. While he himself wasn’t one that was capable of such feats, it was easy to respect the work that went into it — any craftsman ship in his mind was among the occupations he’d likely have considered had his path not worked out. Technically it was still teetering on the balance of success and failure, as it more than probably would for the majority of his life. Such was the expectation for the few that walked the unmarked path that he did. It wasn’t for the faint of heart, and it most certainly wasn’t easy, between the lack of any real ‘this is good and this is bad’, and material for learning. Everything was specialized to the individual, or so his master had told him.

Thoughts of her floated throughout his mind as they found their way through what had once been either a grand hall, or some communing area. Kai wondered what she would have viewed the place as — enlightenment, especially learning was always big on her, whether she agreed with the principles or not. While the man himself wasn’t completely in the same line of thought, he did his best to carry on that mindset in his own fashion. Shun anything too darkly, outside of immoral actions, and you would fail to learn or appreciate the different ways of life. Pity that was how society worked, however.

Cyril was a completely different type of person, from what little he could gather. The man had a sense of humor, and seemed to be a bit more lax in his approaches, though didn’t lack refinement. There was an uneven amount of trust between the two, the latter having placed more into the younger, making it a bit of an off-balanced start. Still, Kai had to grant it to the self-proclaimed master…he hadn’t sliced his being in two the second he saw him. Whether or not the quasi-appearance of being a mercenary, slash bounty hunter kept up its appearance was…improbable. The Force had methods of betraying you like that, holding no true allegiance. It was true to the teachings of the Jensaarai, though few believed it. Simply a tool…a sentient one at that, but it was neither good, nor bad.

“I find research and hard work earns its keep just as fine,” Kai relayed. “Though I suppose I can see others finding enlightenment in other avenues. Who am I to judge what is right, and what is wrong? Is that not unto society as a whole?” Here he went back into philosophy, biting his tongue shortly after to silence himself, with a semi-sarcastic roll of the eyes towards his own statement.

For a brief moment the two found themselves at a standstill as the more experienced of the duo drew his digits along one of the man walls, as if scanning for a device or hidden inlay. Perhaps something to trigger a passage that had been closed away from the naked eye for safekeeping. “That might be true, but access to that knowledge is not always easy to get. Especially when you don’t have the appropriate connections.” Smirking momentarily, Kai watched as his footing was thrown loose for a moment during a brief rumble in the temple. Cyril seemed to believe it was something within the Force, the other holding fast to the true physicality. Then again, it was difficult to tell the difference when you were still comparatively new…and the Force could also affect beyond the ethereal. So it could have very well been both.

“I felt something. Whatever it was, it didn’t seem friendly. I’m not one to split at the first sign of trouble, but if we go any further…tread carefully. This place is old. Probably could collapse at any given moment.”


__________

[member="Cyril Grayson"]

 

[Placeholder 04]

There were demons in this ruin. Cyril had little intention of telling the boy the whole truth -- what had truly called him here. He knew what it was; why it had done so. It was a malevolent beast waiting in the dark. The only way to deal with this sort of thing was to destroy it: that much the Jedi Master understood. It was not the first he had come across, but hopefully it would be the last. In any case, keeping this stranger safe was his first priority. He could not in good conscience continue on without having the boy's safety as one of his primary concerns. If something were to happen in the dark below, he would find a way to keep Kai clear of it.

That was the hope anyway.

Vulcanus retained his silence, something Cyril was grateful for. He could not bear to deal with his long-dead teacher right now. This ruin would only serve to make the late creature's words more unsettling. Though, the very fact that the shade opted for silence was not particularly encouraging either. "I just look when I need to. Whatever way you find information is as valid as the next," Cyril mumbled, "It's what you do with that knowledge that requires judgement. I don't think anyone would be particularly pleased if you went around throwing lightning bolts at children."

He cracked an amused little grin, and continued on through the massive room. A battle had been fought here, to be sure, but it had long since passed. Only specters remained. "If it does collapse, and I happen to be crushed, feel free to take my ship. I certainly won't be needing it then." He added quietly as they crossed into another hallway. That hall quickly ended into a staircase leading deep beneath the earth; one Cyril did not hesitate to descend. "Not far now..."

[member="Kai Acheron"]

 

[Kai Acheron]

Cyril’s whimsical humor did nothing to settle what remained on edge for his younger counterpart’s nerves. Truthfully, if anything it was a repeating theme of distrust on Kai’s behalf towards most individuals he had met since his master’s demise, and likely due to the fact he didn’t have all that many connections on his own. For now…the seasoned Jedi unfortunately fell into that category. There was something off, about the way he was talking and reacting that triggered the less experienced of the two into keeping his guard close, realizing that neither were sharing all details of their reasons for being here with each other. The same went for the fact that the older man was to some degree intentionally cryptic in his speech, despite how sarcastically innocent it might seem.

It took very little effort for Kai to piece together that some information was being withheld, though he was unable to discern exactly what that might be. It was also highly unlikely that he would be unable to discover that information without learning the hard way, or forcefully addressing it — neither of which were in the arsenal of options he was willing to utilize. Aggressive as his blade style was, it didn’t reflect upon his personality all of the time. Yes, he was a hyper-active apprentice, and preferred the ‘better to ask for forgiveness than permission’ approach, as did his master. But that was about as far as the sentiment extended, leaving it on the ‘professional’ end of the spectrum.

When it came to personal relations he was sorely…lacking. Social skills did not come naturally to him, and small talk was anything but easy, outside of the occasional witty comeback. Sass was about the only thing he had on his side in that aspect, and unfortunately not many people reacted all that well to it. For the moment, however, luck seemed to shine down on him at least in Cyril’s regard, whom hadn’t shunned him just yet because of his commentary.

“Lightning seems a bit harsh to be directed at anyone. Not just children. You would need a particularly inventive set of technology to manage that,” he responded off-handedly. Easily aware that the Force was capable of mysteries, and he’d heard legends of Sith sorcerers managing such a feat, it was not something that he’d endeavored into. While not particularly banned amongst the Jensaarai, so far as he knew, outside of several techniques (which were admittedly useful and potent in their own right), he wasn’t all that versatile amongst the mystical arts. Something to improve upon. That…and he was doing what little he could to keep up the guise that he wasn’t completely knowledgeable about the Jedi or Force ways, given the gear he was dressed in. To any other passer byer, it was likely he’d be mistaken as a misplaced trooper or bounty hunter…if they didn’t pay attention to the fine details.

It seemed unlikely that the guise would maintain its status amongst Cyril, and was also quite possible he’d already figured out the minor deceptive defense. But it was just that — a defense. Whether it would be taken that way, however, was an entirely different story. Thus far neither had stabbed the other in the back — verbally, or physically, which was a substantial plus over the environment they were faced in. It was both unwelcoming and unsettling.

“Take your ship? I’m afraid I can’t pilot two at the same time. Haven’t quite worked out the being in multiple places at one time. I’m not sure what the Jedi teach…but that doesn’t seem all that easy,” Kai responded in playful jest as a polite declination of the offer. “I’m sure with the proper caution taken, there is no reason to see that both of us will make it out alive.”

_________

[member="Cyril Grayson"]

 

[Placeholder 04]

"It's a talent all young padawans must learn." Cyril teased. He's seen his fair share of illusions -- a woman he'd been enamored with had made great use of them. Fortunately he knew how to deal with them, and generally understood their limits. So far as he'd seen, there was no way to make those illusions interact with the corporeal realm beyond that of what a shade might accomplish. To put that simply: almost nothing. "As for the lightning...I'd certainly hope not. I'm afraid my experience with the war has made me expect the worst out of people lately. I try not to be a pessimist."

That much was true. The war with the One Sith had left scars far deeper than flesh on him. He had not been ready for the war; had not wanted it. The Republic was still reeling from the last great conflict at the time. To think that another would come so quickly after what they had thought was the final victory had proven disheartening. Morale started low, and it did not recover for quite some time. Some would say it never did, and Cyril would not have substantial evidence to say otherwise. During the height of the war, he fought in every conflict. It was only when the Order turned its back on him, that Cyril turned his back on the Republic.

Looking back on it, his choice to leave was for the best.

They came to a small cavern at the lowest level of the stairwell. It was easily ten degrees cooler down here, and the musty smell of underground fungus was easily recognized. Cyril scrunched up his nose in displeasure as he stepped forward; boots squeaking against the ruined floors as they swooshed through puddles. "No one has been down here for a very long time," he mumbled, "-...but something else has. Do you smell it? That faint scent of rotting meat just on the edge of the senses? Something's died down here."

He angled his lightsaber forward. There was nowhere to go but straight. The ceiling came lower and lower with each step, eventually stopping where it brushed their heads. The cavern opened up to a massive cave. It might have been some kind of hanger in the past. The elements had taken it now. There was no light svae for what they brought with them. The cave's ceiling was too high to be seen, and the walls were too far apart to truly gauge its depth. The echo that followed their words, however, implied the cave they'd found themselves in was very big.

Then there was a thud.

The shadowy presence returned. It felt like Cyril had been thrust from a desert into the frozen waters beneath Hoth's lakes. Four yellow eyes glowed in the dim just beyond the light. Four claws jutted out of the darkness. Gaping maws opened to roar a challenge, sending spittle and the sweet smell of rot in every direction.


Cyril swore.

The two Terentateks charged.

[member="Kai Acheron"]

 

[Kai Acheron]

Delving further into the labyrinthian crypts made Kai hold the desire to invest in a flashlight beacon sometime in the near future. It was dark down here…darker than dark, really. Save for the glow of the Jedi’s blade, it was difficult to make out much of anything aside from faint shadows stretched out across what he could only make out to be some kind of natural walls growing into a cavern. The ceiling was beginning to run along the tips of his hair, egging him to nearly spill several expletives from his mouth. He’d likely have done so, had the apprentice not held his tongue in angst for what he saw following their brief exchange of words.

Sarcasm was a recurring element between the two that could easily be respected, and something Cyril seemed to manage to spar well with. Most other elders that the younger of the two had dealt with viewed it as either a waste of time or that he was an irrespecutful and insolent child. Perhaps, under one light, but life had forged him into the way he was. Holding a grizzled and rigid exterior did not fit his being, even though he had the training regimen built into his past. If there was no hope in the present however, by just shedding some light or good-hearted moments on a situation…that spoke ill of the future.

It was something that both of them resembled at least in some point throughout their excursions across the galaxy. Likely different stories, yes, but at the very least the two had the core lessons from them to bond on to some extent, regardless if they knew it completely or not. There was, however, at least an inkling of respect dangling between the two, as unbalanced as the trust was. Kai didn’t shove the older man’s words off and ignore them, and it seemed that Cyril returned the gift in kind. Not much to offer, all things considered, but it was the small gestures that mattered to the now masterless acquaintance. Luxuries hadn’t come frequently in his life, and it was something that he very much learned to appreciate. The tiny acts of kindness went a long ways with him, just as did any sundering emotions of harsh intent speaking towards how much he would avoid a person who did so. Learning to find people that hung themselves in the balance, however? That was a true rarity.

Drawing himself back away from his ponderous thoughts, the armor-clad fellow took in the drastic change of temperatures. In but mere minutes the temperature had gone from temperate to practically freezing and wet, shrouded in enigmatic and comparatively foreboding blackness. That was when he caught glimpse of the four amber orbs peering straight at himself and the brief traveling partner, only to shriek and thunder in their direction.

With less than thirty seconds to dive out of the way, his pistol had fell from his grip as he crashed towards the ground, a generous distance away from the self-proclaimed master. Throughout the darkness he could only see the blade already rotating, held by his counterpart and the occasional glimpse of the surprisingly fast, yet terrifyingly large beasts. Something Kai wished he’d never cross paths with again. Glo’ra had mentioned and described them in detail while instructing him, and there was no doubt in his mind what type of creatures he had challenging his very existence.

To his right there was the scatter of sparks and echo of crushed metal as the power core to his weapon imploded after the weapon had been suppressed in two, destroyed by the weight of a charging Terentatek. “Kriffing demon. That was my favorite blaster!” Growling from his position, he forced himself to his own feet, and activated the cover from his armor to deploy the helmet, which readily came over his head. Within a matter of seconds there was the sound of a rather large growl from his own part in frustration, followed by the tell-tale ignition of two lightsabers — one in each hand.

Flourishing his blades, Kai leaped into rebound, once more gaining his position by Cyril and dropping what little remained of the facade he had been maintaining. The magnificent glow of a silver-blue core accented by a vibrant sea emerald aura that permeated throughout the color spectrum faintly on the blade in his right hand, only to be accompanied by a far more volatile appearing sister that held a darkened imperial topaz core and vermillion ambiance in the other. From the lightsabers alone, it had been an immediate clue that not only had he been trying to keep his persona guarded, but it was likely clear now why — his kind was nearly extinct. If the so-called Jedi Master was what he truly proclaimed to be, it was something they would probably have to talk about later. For now…there was the matter of their lives at stake.

 

[Placeholder 04]

Cyril had fought many of the galaxy's demons in his years. Such creatures were hard to find these days; having been sent into the galaxy's darkest corners. It was when unfortunate souls went searching for the terrible secrets hidden in these same corners that they often fell to their guardians. The Terentatek were truly beasts. Bred for the purpose of slaughter. One was deadly. Fighting two was suicide.

Alone, Cyril would have fallen. With young Kai at his side, perhaps that would not be the case. "Come on then." He hissed, swinging the cyan blade across the ground at his feet. The first Terentatek flinched momentarily. The second was affixed entirely on Kai: drawn by the sudden display of colors. It charged for the Jensaarai, wicked claws outstretched to gore him if given the chance.

Cyril chose to trust his cohort's skill. If Kai was not capable of defending himself, then he would not have come to such a place on his own. If the younger man could at least hold out against a single Terentatek, then Cyril could slay the other. The monster's claws raked across the air where he had stood. Fortunately, he'd managed to spin to the far left, his blade dancing along the creature's arm. Its armored skin deflected the weapon with ease, but the strike managed to draw a pained squeal from it.

"Go for the eyes!" He shouted over the beast's scream. It gnashed its teeth, drawing a bloody line across Cyril's forearm. The Jedi Master did not lose focus. He ducked under its gaping maw as it came down to behead him, and drove his blade up into the monster's expose underbelly. At first the skin resisted. Then it gave, and the lightsaber speared up into its gut.

Before Cyril could finish the attack, it sent him crashing to the ground with a strong backhand. It felt as if he'd been hit by a speeder. Pain shot through him, and left him momentarily slowed. With visible effort, he managed to rise to his feet. The Terentatek would have finished him them, were it not for the lightsaber stuck in its stomach. The beast was not dead yet.

The former lord of Ession reached for his backup weapon -- a lightsaber of a more detailed craft. The hilt resembled a shoto, though it was long and encased in the finest silver. It hissed as it came to life, the violet blade casting ghostly shadows across its wielder. With his mother's lightsaber held toward the ground, Cyril charged at the wounded demon. If his luck would hold, he might manage to behead the foul beast.

He hadn't the time to pay attention to Kai. He only hoped the younger man could hold his own.

[member="K[/FONT]ai Acheron"]

 

[Kai Acheron]

No matter how hard he tried, his luck (or rather lack thereof) would fail in keeping him safe from perils lurking within the depths of his travels. From insidious politicians with their own agendas to being held hostage by the Hutts, Kai had seen more than his share for his age. Arguably among the more experienced in terms of traveling for the Jensaarai’s apprenticeships, and it had all started with his master miffing off the Mandalorians by ‘displacing’ a cache of what turned out to be particularly valuable minerals. Ore and crystals that he had yet to find, but was still on the to-do list, whilst they continued their hunt to find him. She’d bought him time by pleading her own life in exchange for his, but even honor bound as their kind were, Kai had the assumption they wouldn’t stop until they recovered what was theirs.

Trouble had a knack for following him wherever he went, and little did he forget so, working hard to keep a low profile. As of late? He’d been more or less successful with that, however with two beasts staring himself and his counterpart down? That was a bit much to ask for, probably ‘Lady Fortune’ repaying a visit in kind. Kriffing karma.

His own movements, while polished were not nearly as acrobatic as one would expect, compared to the Jedi that he was paired with…for the moment. While the younger of the two didn’t have the opportunity to study what form the man was employing it was definitely a blend of its own, further supplementing the likelihood that Cyril was indeed who he claimed to be. The man clearly had a good degree of experience in blade work that probably surpassed Kai’s own, at least in broadness. Where the apprentice had taken a liking to a select few forms and was working routinely to master them, others preferred to ‘branch out’ and explore other avenues. But there was only so much that he could do from pre-defined knowledge with two sabers, let alone combining them into a staff.

Few people specialized in such efforts, never mind the concept of melding the two into one in a fluid motion. Practically a whirlwind in his own spinning movements, he was rarely at a standstill, though Kai’s own maneuvers employed less somersaults mid-air than tumulting rotations to narrowly dodge the razor claws that had been thrust at him continually. He’d only faced one of the demons in his long past, and the vast majority of the work had been done by his master at that point, having been ordered to keep on the elusive defense. Now, here he was in her shoes having to prove his worth and protect his own life.

Flowing around what appeared to be a rather sharp coupling of stalagmites, he lured the beast away from Cyril to buy him time. In turn, he realized a bit too late that he was losing the necessary space to maneuver and as the Terentatek lunged to consume him, the man took the moment to make an uncanny decision that he wished he hadn’t. True, it saved his life as he leaped up and over, plunging the swords harshly into the beasts back, but it had spun around and flung him towards the man he had been working to keep at least one of the fiends away from.

Redoubling his efforts he pressed the offensive again, spitting out a small etching of blood onto the floor before gaining his standing again and launching forward. The beast he was fighting was injured, but so was he…only he had been lucky enough to avoid the otherwise lethal spines, and the demon now had cauterized holes threatening to spill out its abdomen from the rear. Reaching out to the group of the stalagmites that he had danced around earlier, the Force surrounded them, causing them to vibrate harshly, flinging themselves into the air as if they were launched by some ancient artillery piece. Effortlessly knocked to the side as the rock formations collided against the creature’s hide he cursed. It was going to take more work than simple Force weaving and dodging to take these things down.


________

[member="Cyril Grayson"]

 

[Placeholder 04]

There was a power Cyril had long since absconded that might save them now. He did not enjoy employing it. It was volatile to everyone around it: its sole purpose was to destroy. What use could a Jedi Master have for such a power? The answer was a rather simple one. Cyril had not learned during his teachings at the academy. The Terentatek he'd struck out against charged. Cyril held out a hand, and closed his eyes.

He focused on the little atoms that made up the musky air. He was an artist, and the atoms his brush. With a bit of concentration, they began to move rapidly. So much so that spark lit up at Cyril's fingertips. At first it was a faint fire, but then it spread, spewing over the monster in a white-hot torrent. The sound of it echoed off the cavern walls and scorched the ceiling. The Terentatek's flesh melted away under the intense heat. Its claws stretched out to gore Cyril, but to no avail. Morbidly wounded, the monster fell to its knees, making quiet keening noises that quite likely stole the attention of its mate.

Cyril did not waste time. He called forth his lightsaber, and the blue blade sped into his open hand. Marching forward, he raised both weapons, and beheaded the dying creature, ending its suffering.

"You alright?" He called toward Kai, turning on the second monster. Calling upon pyrokinesis was draining, to say the least, but Cyril could still put up a fight.

[member="Kai Acheron"]

 

[Kai Acheron]

Blade dancing was tiring to most people -- particularly those who had not endlessly practiced it, nearly devoting their life to it as more than a hobby or skill that needed to be polished. While it did indeed have its toll on the younger of the two wielding lightsabers, it had been considerably less than would be expected, likely due to the fact that his form was less reliant on jolting acrobatics to keep the enemy guessing, but rather traditional foot work, flowing like a river. It came with the side effect that it was to some extent predictable, when Kai didn't toss in the random tumult to the side, thereby completely changing his path. The Terentateks made that difficult however, as there was little room to maneuver despite how large the cavern was.

After a few minutes of analysis he could realize that these beasts were not completely matured. Juveniles, quite possibly even adolescents that were throwing a rage fit. Such a thought span made the apprentice wonder if the parents were nearby, or they had since fallen to the wasteland underneath the jungle world. The ability to continue pondering on such premises was not available, however, with both rampaging about. Cyril had made quick work throught what looked like a rather draining ability to harness what little remained of the heat in the air and exciting the molecules to the point of combustion.

The flames had swallowed one of the beasts, only for it to be beheaded shortly thereafter. Kai himself narrowly escaped being scorched to death, by dancing out of the way and erecting a quick barrier by calling on the essence around him. It flailed and threatened to break under his concentration, denoting how potent the energy was that it was combating against. Lasting all of what seemed like a few seconds, when his vision refocused all that was left of the other beast was a charred and now gelatinous mess.

"Fine. Though I'd rather not cross paths with these things again. One was enough when I was young..." the shorter of the two practically spat in haste, dodging a claw that had been thrust at him. The other beast was still alive, though also heavily damaged between the blades Kai had forced into its back and then the brutal assault by the pyroclasm.

Harnessing his blade and magnetically attaching the two together, he charged them earlier as he had the stalagmites before them and flung the weapon at the creature's head. Ripping through the smoking flesh, the energetic projectile spun madly before severing off the face and ending the madness. In a simple reach out, he beckoned his personal affects back to his person, taking note of how gorey the device had become. A pain to clean later, but at least they were out of harms way for the time being.

_____
[member="Cyril Grayson"]

 

[Placeholder 04]

Cyril breathed a heavy sigh of relief. With a bit of luck on their side, the two had managed to cut through the monsters without too much difficulty. The difficulty factor revolving around how much of their own blood had been spilled thus far.

"I've only dealt with four in my entire life." He sighed, standing up straight over his kill, "These two, another small one, and one enormous beast. They feed on us -- force sensitives. Our presence likely drew them out from their slumber." He pressed a boot to the monster's head. It did not move a muscle. At the very least, he was sure the creature was dead. It seemed young Kai had achieved the same with his own opponent. Good.

"They wouldn't be here without reason." He moved forward to walk in a large circle through the cavern. He could scarcely make out the entrance to another corridor down the hall. It was either that, or go back, and after this effort...

Cyril shook his head. He would have to continue on, though he would not ask the same of the younger man. Kai did not know what he was getting into -- Cyril had a bit of an understanding. If it was what he'd come to suspect lay in wait beneath the temple, he would not want to drag a relative stranger down with him to greet it.

"I'm going deeper; you should turn back. I've a feeling there is something far worse waiting below."

[member="Kai Acheron"]

 

[Kai Acheron]

Four? Either the self-proclaimed Jedi master was exaggerating, or had a knack for getting himself in trouble. Kai had only personally witnessed two Terentateks in his life — neither of which was he forced to face alone. One was with his master, who made short work of the creature, and the one he had just done personally was a juvenile or infant at best. He considered himself more than fortunate that as the darkness throbbed, grew, and faded in the galaxy the stability of the creatures also weaned. They were only strong in the most sinister regions of space, where dark energies were supposed to manifest.

That was what the legends stated, however. As someone who had been following the principles he was raised with under the Jensaarai, Kai had learned to view the Force as a living tool. Neither good, nor bad by inherent nature, despite what other cults might have believed. Between the twisted views of the Sith to the nearly authoritarian perspective of the Jedi in what he had been lectured on, neither extreme was particularly desirable. Both had their challenges, pitfalls, and while they certainly held a wealth of knowledge sacrifices had to be made.

Not above sacrifice, but preferring to live in a balanced…mostly neutral lifestyle, the apprentice was hesitant to adopt any traditions of either side. It came at the cost of forcing him to learn and develop his own techniques that were, while creative, definitely among the more strenuous of avenues. At least he wasn’t left defenseless in the end, however, and was more than capable of holding his own in a bladed duel. Terentateks, and many other Force-imbued creatures however did not unfortunately wield such weapons. He was at a disadvantage.

As Cyril motioned that he was going deeper, Kai could only sigh. “Nothing is ever without reason…” he groaned, knowing both the truth and the sarcasm behind the statement. Few people took things for being coincidences any more. There was always a conspiracy to be found, or ulterior motives. It sickened him that such people were paranoid, but he was here for a reason — answers. Sitting around bickering about it, and retreating after a battle was not the way to achieve those results.

“If you think I’m leaving now, then clearly you got the wrong glimpse of how stubborn I might be. Make no mistake. We’re not allies, or enemies for that matter, but I am not about to become responsible for a Jedi master getting lost or potentially injured in centuries old ruins because I simply refused to go anywhere because of fear or danger.” It was a bit of a harsher and more lecturing tone than he typically adopted, but showed his determination. “Odds of survival are increased when working together, whether it’s enjoyed or not.”


____

[member="Cyril Grayson"]