Private Voss Healing College

[Iris Arani]

It'd been.. A long time since Iris was last on Voss. Back when she was still blinded by the colors. Back when she still had Domxite. Where Kai was still her friend. Before the train, and the fall that scared her body. She palmed the charms she'd made that day. Her weaknesses. Uncertainty, she'd faced that. Gotten better, more sure of herself. She wasn't even here for the festival, she was here to learn how the Voss healed. All so she could continue down this path she'd started. Healing. She was even starting school soon to try and become a doctor.

Though, that was a bit farther off. She had a lot to learn.

Then her lips pulled to a frown. The other charm. Kai. She just tucked that charm away before heading up to the temple. She wasn't here to think about any of that. Just here to learn. That's what she needed to focus on. Iris took a breath, a deep kind to still her mind. Then lifted her head high and kept walking.

She had this.

Ishani Dinn

 

[Ishani Dinn]

Shrine of Healing, Voss

“Why have you come to the Shrine?”

Ishani was standing at the far end of the corridor, speaking to a male Voss Mystic. The Voss were puzzling to her—if she didn’t know better, she would’ve assumed they were droids. Their faces seemed artificial, and even their voices were mechanical-sounding. Yet apparently this was simply the result of evolution.

“I want to learn,” she replied. “I’ve traveled the galaxy searching for methods of healing others. The Voss healing ritual was one of the traditions recommended to me.”

“We do not teach our ways to outsiders,” the Voss said.

“With all due respect, that’s not always the case,” Ishani persisted. “I’ve met non-Voss who said they had been taught here at the Shrine.”

“That is true. But we don’t teach everyone who comes to us.” He crossed his arms over his chest. “Go to Amon-Le. He will judge whether you are worthy of this knowledge.”

“Thank you.” Ishani gave a little bow, then turned to leave—and nearly bumped into another non-Voss, a dark-haired teenage girl. “Excuse me, sorry…”

Iris Arani​

 

[Iris Arani]

"Amon-Le." She hadn't meant to eavesdrop on the conversation between the Mystic and Ishani Dinn , but she did none the less. Her goal was the same as this familiar stranger after all. Iris blinked, shifting to the side as Ishani turned. "Uh, no problem. Um. Amon-Le, right? Do you.. Know by chance where they are?" Ignoring the familiar colors of the woman she smiled a hopeful kind of smile. They were both here for the same thing, right?

"Oh, ah. I'm Iris."

 

[Ishani Dinn]

"Yeah, he's this way." Ishani pointed, already starting to head past the girl in that direction. She thought the interaction would've ended there, but then the girl introduced herself as Iris.

"Ishani," she gave her name automatically. "Are you here to be healed?" Uh, maybe that question was a little too personal. The girl was severely scarred, though, so it was definitely a possibility. "If you don't mind me asking."

Iris Arani​

 

[Iris Arani]

Iris tilted her head. Her being here to be healed? Actually, was that something she could..? The Padawan hadn't even thought about that, and now, well. She drifted off some in her own mind. Was that.. Something she wanted? Would it help? "I.. Don't know. Huh." No wait, she was talking to Ishani Dinn . Wait. She squinted, watching the woman. ".. Aren't you a senator?"

 

[Ishani Dinn]

Since they were walking down the hall, Ishani didn't notice that Iris had zoned out. She just thought the awkward silence that followed was because she'd poked her nose into a stranger's business, where it had no business being.

But then Iris hit her with a question. "No," Ishani answered too quickly. "I mean, I used to be. Not anymore." Why was this kid able to recognize her? It wasn't as if she'd run for Chancellor. Weren't teens busy with other things than politics?

Wait a minute... what the feth?

"I know you," Ishani blurted. "We've met before. On Chaldea. When Arlo was still alive. You and your master..." A pair of Jedi on Chaldea was a noteworthy occurrence, but Ishani hadn't recognized Iris with all her scars. "You spray-painted graffiti on that wall, then we somehow wound up taking you to lunch and the Academy..." And from there, her memory drifted off into a haze. But that was no wonder. She'd been terribly lonely and unhappy back then. Things had gotten better for her.

Judging by Iris' scars and deformities, things had gotten worse for her.

"Uh, how are you?" Ishani asked, endeavoring to be a bit more friendly.

Iris Arani​

 

[Iris Arani]

".. Arlo died?" Of all the things shared, that was the only thing Iris focused on. She stopped walking, staring at Ishani Dinn almost in disbelief. The man, he was hard on her, but he was still kind. Nice, even. Her gaze lowered as she stared at her hands. People died in the galaxy all the time, she knew that. She'd fought alongside people who ended up dying in that same battle.

But this was the first person's whose face she could actually remember that had died. .. She didn't like this feeling.

".. I'm okay. .. Are you okay?" Come to remember it, Ishani and Arlo seemed close as can be. Even if they didn't always agree on things in the brief encounter Iris had with them. She lifted her gaze, her odd colored eyes just staring at the other woman. Filled with concern.

 

[Ishani Dinn]

"I... yeah," Ishani murmured. She wished she hadn't mentioned Arlo's death, but it was one of those major life events that you used to mark the passage of time. "He was killed a few months back."

She didn't elaborate further, skirting around the subject. So much had gone right in her life since then—so much was going well now. She didn't want to spoil it...

"Oh, I'm—I'm fine," she replied. "I'm doing great, actually. I'm here to learn from the Voss."

Speaking of which, the two had reached the door to the central chamber. Ishani eagerly opened it, entering the room and looking around. Her gaze soon fell upon the figure of Amon-Le, who stood with his back to them, facing the ceremonial fire.

"Uh, did you want to talk to him first?" Ishani asked Iris.

Iris Arani​

 

[Iris Arani]

Killed.

Iris frowned. Arlo didn't deserve to be killed. But Ishani Dinn didn't seem that.. Distraught. Even as she said she was fine, Iris was studying the colors, making sure, checking to see if she was actually okay. And she was. The Padawan nodded after a moment, seeming content with that. If Ishani was fine, there was no reason to linger on it. "Oh. .. I'm here to learn from them too."

She smiled, nodding her head before glancing to the figure they both were here to see.

"We can talk to him together. We're here for the same thing."

 

[Ishani Dinn]

Ishani wasn’t okay. Far from it. But she kept all those feelings buried deep down. It was like she was ignoring what had happened, starving out her grief with her lack of attention. She knew she would only be crying for herself, not for him. That was her way of dealing with the loss of her master. It was how she had dealt with losing Arcturus, close relatives, and friends in the past. Putting it out of her mind.

Or maybe it was because she now had the power to cheat death. Maybe Arlo and everyone else she would ever lose wouldn’t stay gone for long anymore.

“Okay,” Ishani said with a shrug. She led the way over to Amon-Le, clearing her throat to catch the Voss Mystic’s attention. “Hi. My name is Ishani. I was told to talk to you about learning the Voss healing rituals.”

Amon-Le blinked at her, then glanced at Iris. Ishani gave the girl a chance to speak for herself before continuing. “I want to become a healer. I’ve been traveling the galaxy, searching for different Force traditions, learning all that I can from them. I know you don’t normally teach outsiders your ways, but I met some people during my travels who claimed you had taught them.”

“They were chosen,” Amon-Le said. “They breathed in the mists of the Wellspring, opening their minds to it, and were granted the right to our knowledge by the gods.”

“Alright. Can I breathe in the mists and find out whether the gods have chosen me?”

“You must not do so lightly. The mists will confront you with visions of your past, present, and future. Only tap into the Wellspring if you can bear these dreams and nightmares.”

Ishani nodded. “I can bear it.”

Amon-Le then looked at Iris expectantly. "Can you bear it?"

Iris Arani​

 

[Iris Arani]

Iris said nothing at first, just nodding along in agreement with Ishani Dinn , the ever faint smile on her lips. Should she have introduced herself? Probably, but that's not where her head was. Instead, she was looking through the colors around them. Around Amon-Le. The man was.. At peace. In a way so different from a Jedi, yet still so beautiful. So lost in that, she nearly missed the conversation. And even then, she only got the tail end.

Enough to understand the danger of what was being asked of them, at least.

"Yeah." She kept the same smile and nodded her head. For a moment the Mystic was going to just excuse her for such a half hearted answer, for how distracted she seemed to be. But the look in Iris's eye, the calm about her. Perhaps it was against his better judgement, but he nodded.

"Very well. This way." Amon-Le lifted a hand, motioning for the two to follow before he walked. "I'll take you both to the Wellspring."

 

[Ishani Dinn]

Ishani was surprised at how readily Amon-Le accepted Iris. The girl came across as a bit of a ditz—certainly not mystical vision material. Maybe the Voss saw something in her Ishani didn’t.

Amon-Le led the way to the ceremonial altar. At the center of the platform was an ancient-looking stone vessel containing a clear liquid.

“The Wellspring is for the broken,” he revealed. “It heals the spirit. That is the trial you must face—you must confront the fracture within yourselves, and begin to mend it.”

The Mystic stood on the other side of the vessel, and with a wave of his hand over the font, the liquid began to bubble and boil.

“Breathe in the mists,” he said. “Witness the power of the Wellspring.”

Taking in a final breath of fresh air, Ishani leaned forward and inhaled the steam rising from the font. Almost immediately, the mists began to take effect—and Ishani collapsed to the floor in a faint.

When next she awoke, it was with altered vision. Everything she looked at seemed to glow with an inner luminescence, especially people’s faces, which shone brightly.

Joining the Sith, getting a tattoo, drinking alcohol, having children out of wedlock—and now I’m on drugs, she mused to herself. I’ve broken just about every taboo my parents ever warned me about…

“You are the tree,” Amon-Le was saying. “Your roots, the past. The universe is soil. The tree is sick. See what nurtures the roots, and remember your early teachings…”

The Wellspring became a blazing fire. Visions were taking shape within the flames, figures and places. Ishani saw Chaldea, her home, and the faces of her parents.

“A cult that revolves around the suppression of power,” Amon-Le murmured. “You wore a mask to hide your true self from them. Who were you then?”

Staring into the fire, Ishani was reluctant to answer. “I was just a girl. They wanted me to follow in their footsteps, to give up the power and potential I had been born with. I rebelled and ran away before they could take it from me…”

Iris Arani​

 

[Iris Arani]

Breath deep of the mists, huh? Iris got down, seating herself beside the Wellspring, letting her eyes drift close. Breath in, breath out. Once, twice. .. The mist smelled weird. She breathed it in none the less, but there was something there she wasn't sure how to feel about. And then she was out. In a vision. She blinked open her eyes, understanding at once when she was gone from consciousness. The colors around her changed, drastically.

They weren't real. Not like what she usually saw. An echo? She didn't have words to describe what she saw, but she saw them none the less. The vague shapes of people, a slum. .. Her home? She tilted her head as she stood up, looking around. Colors were everywhere. People were little more than silhouettes. Right. This was what it was like when she couldn't see through the Force. When she was blinded still.

The images didn't make sense though. It was her apartment, she could recognize that much. The colors were all the same, but one was full of fear? Pain? Near the front of the building. Was it night? Her eyes narrowed as she tried to pull back the curtain, but nothing she tried would work. The only thing that was clear was.. A baby? No, her. Iris. Was this how she got here? Curiosity pushed her forward as she crouched beside the swaddled child. Bright purple and blue eyes stared up, lost in the sea of colors.

"Your earliest memories. All of them are like this." Amon-Le seemed to materialize in the colors, standing beside her. Iris only nodded, her gaze now on the figure that cradled her so close. Pain, fear, death. The colors stained this silhouette.

"Do you know who they are?"

"No." No matter what Iris thought through, she didn't know who they were. The calm smile on her face was gone, replaced by one of intensity. Concentration. Who was this woman? .. It was a woman. She blinked. The woman stumbled, fell. Cradled Iris close to protect her. Another flash of pain in the colors. "She's dying."

"Yes."

Another color joined. One far more familiar. .. The man who took care of her? Pain and fear turned to desperation and sadness. The woman offered Iris up, begging.. Something. She couldn't hear the words, but she could see it in the colors. Desperation to keep Iris alive. Safe. Sadness. Love. Overwhelming love. Then nothing. Iris was taken by the man who'd raise her, and all the colors from the woman faded. Gone.

"Do you know who they are?" The question was repeated by the Mystic. Iris nodded slowly, reaching up to wipe away the tears that had started to form in her eyes.

"My mother."

"She died to bring you there."

"Yes."

"Does that upset you?" Amon-Le watched her closely. But where anger or misery could have been, Iris was smiling. "No. My mother loved me. .. Thank you, for showing me this."

"I did not. This is the trial of the mists."

Iris shook her head. But didn't argue. She didn't know how these trials were going to work, what was going to happen next. More of her memories were on display. Her growing up, when she first found out how to paint, her days spent painting the slums to bring joy to the colors of the people around her. When she was found by the Jedi. "You have a lot of memories of painting." Amon-Le spoke with mild amusement. Almost everything had Iris painting in some way shape or form. Iris just laughed and nodded.

"Why?"

"It was the only way I could think to talk to people."

"That changed, why?"

"Because of the people I met. Master Noble, Domxite, Kai, Eliphas, Briana, so many helped me see."

"But they're not all with you anymore."

Her smile faded as she nodded. Something else flashed. The memory of when she felt Domxite bleed. Of her argument with Kai. The other argument with Kai. The more she started to see and learn, the harder everything got.

"Wouldn't it be easier to return to the colors and stop seeing through them?"

"No." She was adamant about that. Her expression hardened into determination as she saw those moments. Not in anger, not in hate or fear. "I can still help fix things."

"And if you can't?"

"I won't stop trying."

"It will not be easy." Amon-Le raised a hand. Visions of the future. Of what might be. Of Domxite shattered, of people dead and gone. Of people hurt all around her. The Darkness she constantly found herself fighting against, the one that continued to try and consume the colors.

"I know."

"Then why try?"

"Because that's the person I want to be."

"Are you not now?"

She shook her head. "No, not yet. That's why I'm here."

The mist swirled around them as the Mystic watched in silence. Iris in turn, met his gaze. Focused on his eyes for the first time since she'd actually met him. No longer distracted by the colors, though that could just be because of the visions.

"Very well."

 

[Ishani Dinn]

“Consider now the seasons that shaped the tree…”

As Amon-Le spoke, the images in the fire warped and shifted. She saw her instructors at the Academy on Korriban, and the other acolytes who had been in her classes.

“First, a season of winter. You joined another cult, one whose teachings were the opposite of the one you grew up with. You attended a school to learn a new philosophy. A philosophy of power.”

“Yes,” Ishani whispered, admitting something she had refused to accept before. “All I really wanted was power and control. I wanted everything my upbringing had denied me—and I didn’t care what I had to do to get it. I could excuse everything, as long as I could get what I wanted in the end.”

“What changed?”

She saw Arcturus, his red hair blending in with the flames, but he wasn’t the answer to Amon-Le’s question. Before her eyes Arcturus became someone else—a man who shared many of the same features, but wasn’t him. It was Marcus, their son, as he would look when he was grown. Beside him was his sister Eloise, her face more like her mother’s, but with the same red hair.

“I had to think about someone other than myself,” Ishani said. “That meant responsibility and self-sacrifice. It meant going home, doing my duty… doing what was right, even though it wasn’t what I wanted for myself.”

“A season of spring,” Amon-Le proclaimed. “A time of new life and new beginnings. That is where you are now. There is a lingering frost upon your spirit, but this cannot endure forever. What will you become?”

Beside her, Ishani saw Iris kneeling in silence, her expression blank. She didn’t know what the girl was seeing now. Turning back to Amon-Le, Ishani replied, “No more control. No more orders. I want to choose my own fate.”

“Then you are truly healed.”

There was a burst from the fire like a sunflare, and Ishani felt the burn of a cleansing fire in her soul. Then she was back—lying on the floor of the Wellspring chamber. She sat up and looked around.

“Did it work… ?”

Iris Arani​

 

[Iris Arani]

Iris opened her eyes. The swirling colors of the vision were gone, replaced with the serenity of the Temple around her. She lifted her head, a faint smile on her lips. It was just a vision, a trial, but.. She felt lighter. Weird. The Padawan stood then, stretching her arms as if she'd just woken from a long nap. Her gaze shifted to Ishani Dinn . Oh, she was awake already? She gave a small smile before looking around for the Mystic that lead them here.

Amon-Le was where he was before, standing calmly, patiently. Then nodded.

"You've succeeded. Very well. I will take you to the ritual chamber, and we will see if you can learn it."