Wait...You Do What Now?!

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"It always has been," Cedric admitted. His purpose was to serve, but there was still a human beneath the veneer of Jedi Master that he wore so proudly. Humanity was a flawed race, and its innate desire to leave something behind before fading was one that could often prove to be detrimental. Cedric had grown keenly aware of that fact, and whilst he'd worked to assist others in all his endeavors, it would be a lie to say that some of his ambitions were not related to private desires for legacy.

Eager for the change of topic, Cedric practically leapt on her question. "As you wish," he paused for a moment, pondering what might be best to teach Pomsty. Then it came to him, so very obvious that he could almost hit himself for not thinking of it sooner.

"To channel the Ashla, one must have a distinct inner calm. We call this the balance. The Jedi have a code we live by to help us achieve it." He paused once more, looking Pomsty in the eye as he recited the code.

"There is no emotion, there is peace. There is no ignorance, there is knowledge. There is no chaos, there is harmony. There is no death, there is the Force."

Pom Stych Tivé

 

[Pom Stych Tivé]

Calm he spoke of, when she was akin to the tumultuous vibrations of chaos for all her years. What is calm? Surely she has known it at some point in her life! She instinctively raised her hand to her lips in thought.

Calm is a mother's caress? Soothing is what she remembers.

Calm is what she saw pour from Argis Volmir? Surely this is it!

"Calm is the pressure I felt inside my head when the Ashla silenced my thoughts when I was in the Temple on Tython?" she wondered.

She vaguely remembered the words she spoke to him inside the Temple, her's instinctively drawn from her lips by her Fanged God, twisted and morbid by her god's disposition.

She felt her own breathing when he peered into her eyes. She studied him for the changes which suddenly washed over her, raising her hands in the air to deeper sense his state.

She suddenly felt her own presence as a part of her surroundings. She did not see herself as a blotch among the many rays of light as they radiated down upon her. She felt her own essence as one purifying, expanding, steadfast as a pillar, sound and immovable. And then reaching out into the room and beyond. Everything, everyone, connected and bearing purpose.

There is no emotion, there is peace.
There is no ignorance, there is knowledge.
There is no chaos, there is harmony.
There is no death, there is the Force.

Ignorance, chaos, and death she understood immediately as things which could unravel focus. Emotion took a moment to comprehend. Then she did finally understand it. But she also understood that no one is meant to obliterate all emotion for the entirety of life, but to practice so when peace is needed, it's connection may be found readily available and focus easy to obtain.

She nodded lightly. "I understand," she said, ready to form her focus into a display of achievement. Pomsty's Onyx Talisman, which held the fading green Spirit of Ichor from the power of her Fanged God, suddenly began to glow with a bright gold sheen, never seen to radiate from it before. She closed her eyes and focussed upon the sensation of peace.

She thought of so many spells, so many incantations learned all throughout her life, and yet for so many of them, their words are forceful, demanding and evil. Such would never suit to be linked to peace.

Her breath and her heartbeat slowed as she concentrated further.

 

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The majority of those that Cedric had endeavored to teach the basis of Jedi teachings to had been slow learners. They were all starting from more uninitiated places, but Pomsty already had a decent grasp on the empyrean. She could give Cedric a challenge in a fight, which was enough of a testament to her skill.

Even still, he found the ease with which the Nightsister took to the code refreshing. Normally he would need to break it down and explain it in as detailed a manner as possible, but on occasion one or two understood its intricacies.

His arms folded around his chest as he narrowed his eyes at the jewel around her neck. The Jedi reached out slightly into the empyrean, feeling nothing but the calming energies of the Ashla spreading abound. Not what he'd expected of the jewel.

"The Jedi path is not an easy one," he explained. "It's' a lifetime of commitment. If it is one you wish to walk, I believe you would make for a powerful Jedi Sage."

Pom Stych Tivé

 

[Pom Stych Tivé]

She opened her eyes slowly at his choice of words. "That is certainly a label I never thought I would be branded." 'Me, possess the propensity to be a Jedi?!' "All I can say, is that I am as I am, irrelevant of terms." She found P Placeholder 0128 quite generous with his supportive compliments. Ashla held them lingering in her forethoughts to replay at times when the Nightsister found herself wondering what in the hell is she doing here in the first place?! The Witch felt driven to learn simply because there is an offer to learn, and real power is here, one she never considered as adept before. Only a fool would pass up such an offer. Her redemption she never bargained for; and yet she understands wholly that no lesson regarding this Light could be grasped without accepting such drastic inner changes.

Pomsty studied the waves of the Force she sensed, their order and flow, how they radiated as she concentrated upon the luminescence, linking the sensation with how she sees it through Force Sight. She experimented with it's stretch and contraction, forming a bright orb of raw energy in her palms. She played with it, passing it between her hands, intrigued, before sucking it into her palm.

Her brow rose lightly as she pondered her next question to pose to him. "Does the Cyber Crystal of a Jedi's Lightsaber extend the power of the Force? I have read about Jedi being so attuned to absorbing this energy unscathed."

 

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Cedric could only snicker.

"That you are, Pomsty. It is not a path you must walk, only one I offer you. The Jedi are the greatest servants of the Ashla. We dedicate our very lives toward eternal service in her name." Cedric explained. He'd been in the habit of converting those that he could. If he was to build his own order from the ground up, then it would need to be made of people that he could trust. Pomsty numbered among them.

"We do draw some power from our crystals. Truthfully it depends on what sort you have in your lightsaber, and if you have bonded with it. A lightsaber is as much a tool as it is a mark of station. To carry one marks you out as a Jedi, a representative of our entire people, and to use it recklessly is both a danger to others, and the faith the public has in us."

He paused, exploring her features for any hint of an emotion. "Is it a path you would want to walk?"

Pom Stych Tivé

 

[Pom Stych Tivé]

Pomsty had never touched a ranged weapon in her life. Neither was she fond of melee weapons. What he shared about a Jedi being bonded to their lightsaber, now that seems fascinating.

What he asked her next however caused the Nightsister's countenance to fall. The weight of what he offered caught her off guard. A moment before she had taken his statement with levity, and here he is directly asking her as if she is prepared to make the full commitment to convert? Had her heart actually made a 180 within days?

P Placeholder 0128 's generosity concerning his openness for sharing his ways with her earned her respect from the start of day one. She desires the knowledge certainly, but the idea of relabeling herself after a people she has only just met, stirred emotions she hadn't anticipated. She is proud of her heritage, and the notoriety that goes before her. No matter what side of the fence one worships, just proclaiming she is from Dathomir typically gains her positive results. The mystery of the extent of what a witch is capable of doing, is enough to have that respect emanate from perfect strangers.

"I am a Witch, Cyr. I began manifesting my wants from the cradle," she began, the sincerity weighted upon her tone. Her people and the Jedi had fought one another on the Sith front lines. Would she be labeled by her own people a turncoat for her pact? "Please forgive me. I cannot make such a drastic determination without putting in a worthy amount of consideration." She cannot understand how he seems to have no trouble with accepting her, living here among his people, only yesterday murdering those less capable to defend themselves like fodder, and shoving the deed out of her thoughts like it was no more than a job to do so.

She never lied to herself about being too proud of her rich heritage. She knew she could never just rebrand herself, ever, no matter how wonderful he is. "I want to learn this Way, honestly I do. It is the right Way, I believe. I never before opened myself up to it, as much as it was never shared with me." She decided it best to tell him her plans. "In a few weeks I plan I shall return to Dathomir to learn from the White Witches there, and continue with the heritage I was born into, one I have respected and admired for all of my life." Anything else she would learn from Jedi would be a major plus to her evolution towards redemption.

 

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Cedric understood.

He'd been a Jedi his entire life. There had, of course, been times when his faith was shaken, but he'd never turned his back on the order or his teachings. For Pomsty, taking on the moniker of Jedi might have meant as such for her Nightsister heritage. Even still, she left the door open for the possibility. Perhaps she would come to the path in time, though for now Cedric was content to give his lessons.

Studying with the witches would certainly open new avenues of the Force. It was possible she could take what she learned from them, and teach them to the others that wished to walk the path of sages.

"I understand," Cedric smiled. "The offer is still there, if you ever feel a calling to it. I think it would be wise to visit your people though. I know little of the witches that follow the Ashla - perhaps they know things that could add to our greater knowledge."

Pom Stych Tivé

 

[Pom Stych Tivé]

She has been actively listening to everything the people here speak.

Did she feel a calling to it? The changes she felt inside were so drastic already, but what is in defining one's self to the label P Placeholder 0128 had chosen, as a Jedi Sage? If she walked his path, is it not enough? Must there be the title to accept and confirm? Is it ritualistic? Is there kinship sought in her agreeing to it? Is there a calling beyond what she has already discovered?

"Why does everything you say to me give me cause to think?" she asked, amused by it. She found herself relieved that he did not retract the offer by her hesitancy to confirm at this time. His intention to include her in the most sacred aspects of his life, she immediately took to heart. Every change she witnessed here seems drastic enough that she needs space from it, to step back and evaluate just what is happening and how she honestly feels with it all. She has accepted it all. She thought how maybe he does understand its difficulty. She is grateful to see that he may.

"Trust me, you have my devotion to what you teach," she affirmed with sincerity.

His expressing interest in learning anything about her ways in return went beyond her imagination. Not many express such an interest. She beamed over it. "I shall!"

She knew she felt the calling, not just to this Way he spoke of, but also to these people who have opened their doors to her and accepted her. "I have this feeling I will be back. I promise it!" And that is a good feeling, to have this intuition that her Fanged God won't devour her during her return to Dathomir. Surely the Witches have built up defenses against Him!

 

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"I'd think that's a good thing, isn't it?" Cedric lofted a brow at the jest. It was no surprise to him that Pomsty had much to mull over. The shift from where she had been was likely a rough one, though it occurred to him that he didn't actually know where she'd come from. Cedric simply assumed it was Dathomir, but the way she spoke of the rest of the galaxy implied other ties.

"I appreciate your dedication. I'll do my best not to steer you wrong. My track record with students isn't very great," he added, scratching at the back of his head with that admission. More than a few of his Padawans had chosen to walk dangerous paths. He'd chalked it up to the lack of mental strength required to walk the guardian's path, but he wouldn't be pushing that onto Pomsty. It wouldn't suit her.

"I'll hold you to that," he added when she spoke of returning. "And, something else," he paused a moment. "Where were you before you came to Coruscant? You speak of others, but you haven't specified whom. The Sith?"

Pom Stych Tivé

 

[Pom Stych Tivé]

Pomsty nodded with a subtle smile upon her face when P Placeholder 0128 took pride in his ability to repeatedly raise her curiosity. She held any opportunity of speaking to him in such a high priority already, right up there with all those rare journals she had labored over studying. She liked how easy he is to talk to. She liked how he made himself available. He made her feel like he put her requirements first, before worldly obligations which engulf so many men, stealing them away from those who need them.

His student? Now there is a word she had not considered herself in years. Sure she learned anything from the many Grimoires she had acquired, but that was more on the lines of concerning her necessity to experiment, scientifically. She studied her Craft mostly on her own, without any insight offered by another. Both her brows rose in unison, “You will teach me then?” she exclaimed excitedly. “To you I am so grateful!” She had already found fascinating Jedi Texts among the library within the chateau she had been lead to, and knew she could learn much more and quicker from interacting with others.

However... this would be the second time he inquired about her history.

“Cyr, you should know that disclosing such secrets is unacceptable even were it pillow talk. I hope I satiate your interest to say that I have been off Dathomir for the past few years, studying Magick and reading about the Force as much as I could. I have known many Sith, but no self respecting sane woman can dwell among them for long; not without wanting to annihilate them for their…unique and lacking sense of manners.” Many Sith men play head games, expecting a woman to put up with their attitude regardless, and accept anything demanded in order to remain a recipient of a man's…let's call it, generosity.

Her senses heightened guessing at the root of what he might actually be curious. “Sorcery came naturally to me since as far back as I can remember. Some parents believe their children invent imaginary friends; I wish that were actually how it is. They talked to me all the time. They provided guidance and even insight to situations. If I lost something, they served me by telling me where the thing was hidden. They filled the gap in my knowledge. They fed me instinct. I feel like the most… perhaps… confident aspect of myself has gone in their absence. But Ashla speaks as well, and she is not a demanding or threatening goddess. Regardless of my life and expectations being turned on it’s head, I feel I have gained the better hand."

Aspects of Ashla have already became inherent within Pomsty. Had he noticed her signature itself changed since they first met? She already had set aflame her necklace of bones acquired of those she murdered, freeing the Souls she long forced to serve her needs. She sacrificed her ways without remorse over doing so.

 

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Already Cedric's vision for the Jedi Order was taking shape in his mind's eye. There were individuals within the Imperium that had the right mindset to create something that might rival the order of old, should they choose to follow the path. If he could only get them moving toward the right goals, they might be able to make more than a few grand changes. Pomsty was certainly on that list of individuals.

"I'll teach you whatever you want to know, should I know it myself." He snickered, arms folding about his chest as he gazed up at the ceiling in momentary thought. "You're very secretive," he added as she elaborated on why she would not share the full details of her past. "I don't know how I could function with voices speaking to me like that. Seems terrifying, if I'm being honest. Have they been completely silent since you let go of the Bogan?"

He paused, before adding. "In their absence you can begin to build confidence in your abilities alone. There is far more you can accomplish with the Force under your own power, rather than that of other entities."

Pom Stych Tivé

 

[Pom Stych Tivé]

Her eyes bore into his, as she generated a vision sharing with him her experience. The room lightened on its own. Pomsty felt safe and assured. The demons which served her have been replaced by willing Angels. She saw them as faint cascading lights. Only within the Empyrean would she catch a glimpse of one.

“We are never alone, just because we cannot sense them when our life demands perception in its logical way. We do not fathom them through logic, but the Soul. Just like we do not taste through our eyes. There is always something around us.” In the distance, she sensed the struggle of demons being subdued, forbidden to approach.

Pomsty cannot turn off what she is. The difference now is that she knows peace. Angels don’t beckon her day and night as demons did, orchestrating events and convincing their followers to act on the evil deeds they pressured unto her. Angels assist when necessary.

“Yet I believe I understand you to a point,” Pomsty affirmed while a whisper caught her attention. She smiled as she then dropped the mental intrusion. Full redemption comes upon her mere days from now, when Imperator Grayson‘s own Padawan meets with her. Pomsty concentrates again on keeping her mind focused on peace, as he had guided her moments before. The Mantra echoed within her thoughts and she willed a stone to pull away from an area of the wall and reveal a stash of dusty texts hidden within an alcove.

She cocked her head to the side as her brow rose. She did not physically sense the texts in order to become aware of them. It is that intuition had been brought on the wind to render her understanding. Maybe now he gets her?






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Wise words.

Pomsty had an understanding of the empyrean not unlike Cedric's own. Her place within it was a spiritual one, must like his. It was that common ground that had endeared the nightsister to the Jedi Master, and he was more than happy to engage in a conversation of theology with her. "That's an interesting perspective," he answered honestly, genuine interest in his tone.

"I'd like to discuss your views on such things, though it'll have to be at a later date. For now, I think it's about time I get back to work." He spoke, rising slowly from the bleachers.

"I think you have a good handle on me," he added, offering Pomsty a kind smile. "Let me know when you head to Dathomir. I'll arrange for transport, and we'll make sure you get back to us when you're ready."

Pom Stych Tivé

 

[Pom Stych Tivé]

She has so many questions she wants to ask P Placeholder 0128 . His clear dismissal left her feeling unfulfilled, even though so much was said and implied which she found herself also needing to hear. She immediately chastised herself for obviously allowing her guard to slip. No Nightsister should ever allow herself to depend on a man! Yet there were answers which perhaps only he can provide.

'Damnit!'

Ashla just so happens to be the one in charge especially when a redemption is in order, nobody else. Not Pomsty, and not Cyr. The mere idea made Pomsty well aware of her internal and very much spiritual surrender, another thing which caused her to feel absolutely helpless in regards to which aspects of her future she is actually in control of. 'Does Cyr actually go day by day flying by the seat of his pants?' Or does he actually have some say in where he goes? Who he meets? Who he kills? Who he loves?'

To not be in control is against every teaching she upheld since the moment she was conceived and gained a conscious awareness of her very own existence.

She rose as he rose, unable to smile in return. She gripped hold of the texts she uncovered before approaching the exit. She would hold onto all the thoughts that swarmed her mind, and hope they die before she ever might come close to speak them.

Ashla beckoned her towards the meditation chamber, to face these aspects of herself there.