The purple sands of Parnassos swirled between her toes as the Sithling stood in the shallow waters, letting the waves break against her feet.
The joke had been too cruel. For weeks now, she had been hearing the whispers. Right around the corner of being within ear-shot, enough for the murmur, not enough for the entire thing. And when the whispering had become louder, the night visions had begun as well. She was not a person who slept much. Seven hundred years and then another unknown amount of time during which she had been locked away and imprisoned in the Darkness had given her an unhealthy fear of the dark, and her sleep was always light, guarded, and the absolute minimum required to function. Dreams were always unwanted, and yet these visions snuck by them, overrunning every mental protection and barrier that the Sithling had set within her mind.
She had been called to this place. The visions had shown her, the whispers had told her, and yet the two combined, assaulting the edges of her senses, just where the nerves ended, over and over again, had still failed in delivering her the actual sight of what it would be. And what it was, was nerve-shattering. For the purple sands of Parnassos were the only thing that made the area look like anything different than the Space Between Dimensions, a place between realms and realities in which Scherezade had accidentally locked herself in for nearly a year.
The gray skies reflected in the equally gray waters, forming a silvery mixture that while pleasing to the eye, tended to bode danger almost every time Scherezade was exposed to it. And this beach… There was a reason she had come here. A reason for the whispers and the visions, for her even more disturbed sleep.
There was something here. Or someone? Something or someone that she had to find. She had at first believed the Blood would show her the way; but no matter how many times she pricked her finger or cut her arm, the blood just spooled there, telling her and giving her nothing. Eventually, she'd had to work the Force to heal herself, causing a combination of fresh pink scars that she hoped would go away after she'd had the time to put some Bacta on them.
But coming here had not been an empty move, and she had not come alone. A few miles from where she now stood, she knew more of her kind, more of the Agents of Chaos, inhabited a cantina. They had come here to ward off the Empire of Rannon, and this time, the battle had been quick and effective. Again they had managed to push the Rannons away. Eventually, there would come a die during which they would have to onslaught the Rannons and their capital as well. But not today. Today, another small planet was liberated. This time they even wanted it, so that was always a nice plus.
Scherezade looked to the skies and sighed. Her knives tingled to be used once again. Coming here had obviously been a mistake. With the amount of annoying Seers in her family, she should've known better than to blindly follow where the Force decided to lead her like that before having a better grasp on what was going on.
Shrugging, she let another wave crash against her feet, and removed a small paper bag from her pocket. Rolling the top of it out, a small smile came to her face.
Sometimes things sucked a little less when you had some to munch on.