Public To grow, one must learn

[Koyi Mateil]

Location: Korriban Sith Ruins

Koyi Mateil was slowly stalking the halls of an old sith temple from the old cold war era, she was new to the force but she could feel so much anger and sadness in this place. She has no weapons to call her own, no lighsaber or blaster, just her feeble force ability for now. She came to this ancient place to learn more of the force and to hopefully find an old lightsaber to brandish and call her own.

 

[Onith]

Korriban, a homeworld she remembered almost nothing of. Onith had been here many years ago, millennia in fact. Then she had been a strong warrior of the great Infinite Empire; now she was little more than a faceless, broken person in a galaxy that knew so little of her masters. As a child, this world had been her home, but the Empire had come, a Force Hound named Usk discovering her talent in the Force. Whisked away and trained, she had never once seen this red world again.

Now, so much time had passed, and nothing was the same. The edifices to the great Rakata Predors were ground into the very dust that covered the world. In their places stood tombs and statues to Sith lords of old. To Onith, though these beings had lived longer than her, they seemed so young and innocent to the pureblood.

She found herself wandering an ancient ruin of some unknowable purpose, faithful translator droid in lockstep; her mind cluttered with memories and ambition. She bore no weapon and wore no armour. Her connection to the Force stood tenuous at best, even with the Dark Side so potently infused in the very planet. Perhaps there was some artefact hidden within, a key to the past that might help her in the quest. These and thoughts like them swirled as she stepped heavily and without paying heed to the potential dangers of this strange place.

So rapt in her own thoughts, Onith almost didn't notice the Twi'lek in a parallel pathway. She cave a little shout to catch attention, hoping not to sound too threatening this time. The translator droid beside her turned to follow her gaze and waved mechanically.

Koyi Mateil

 

[The Confessor]

Life Moves On
History Moves On
People Fade, History Fades.
But Somehow, I Remained.
​

It has been over a decade since his escape from the White Room, a nightmarish place that he had resided for four millennia, tortured with no noise, no life...no nothing. Now, he had escaped but there was always a cost to leaving the Netherworld and it resided inside him. Walking through the silent hallways of his former life, he stopped towards one of the rooms and carefully entered it.

This...this was their room...her room. Letting the hand slowly trail against the wall, his eyes slowly glance towards the aged and destroyed tables, rusted bedframes and even a ramshackled repaired hole from the top of the room. In his ears, he could hear the cry of a child as both of his feet stopped towards a corner in the room, one that had long since changed to only have a simple chair. Staring down at it, he let his head simply hang in silence.

He had failed, so long ago to keep such wickedness and darkness away from ones he had loved. No matter what had occurred, war always seemed to find its way back towards him. It was a never-ending cycle of pain...and death. The Sith Pureblood still felt the pain in his neck, the pain in the right collarbone from the fight...he held the child in his arms for many years...only for the same child, to be the end itself. Breathing in slowly, he kneeled towards the floor and gently wiped the marble flooring of dust.

Focusing on the Force, he lifted the marble stone from the floor with a soft clicking noise. Below the brick, he retrieved a rather sizable trunk and hauled it up with a small grunt. Placing it onto the ground, he slowly unlatched the sides and the front before opening it. Inside, it revealed five different kinds of lightsabers, all of whom shined as if it was the day they were created. Some were created with electrum, others created with unusual metals long since been forgotten in history as "useless". Letting his hands rub over three single hilts, one of whom was curved, a double hilted lightsabers and then...he stared for a long moment at the last one. A Force Saber....one he had found and had to lock away so many years ago, so powerful yet one he even could not tame himself.

Letting his hand grip one of the single hilt lightsabers, he slowly retrieved it and sat onto one of the rusted beds, whom creaked with his weight onto it as he examined it. Gently turning it in his hands, he muttered to himself in High Sith, a language long ago now presumed dead. So much had occurred in life...yet, some days, he wish he could just talk about it.

Onith Koyi Mateil