Private Walk in Shadow

[Seo Linn]

Once again, she found herself in the Netherworld. She had been here once before, and time had slipped away from her. Years had passed in the world of the living while only a short time had passed for her. Hoping that wasn't going to happen again, the Knight kneeled and started meditating. Any sense of direction was lost, and the grey storm surged around her body.

This was sadly a familiar sensation for the Jedi. She had already walked these lands. Without knowing whether anyone was living or dead, she tried to feel for anybody else. When she had done this before, she had felt nothing. This time it was different. A new time, a new location in the sea of grey. There was another soul present, but she didn't know where to find it.

Since there were no landmarks for her to search for, she stood up and started walking. Searching in the somber, grey light, she found an area of peace where she moved. Sensing the turbulence near her, she hoped this other soul had the same peace she did.

She wondered if, when she escaped this place again, she would come out with her clothes missing again. Not too eager to find out, she wanted to know more about the presence she felt she shared this space with.

Elian Mareth

 

[Elian Mareth]

The cavern was utterly still.

Far beneath the mountains of Atrisia, surrounded by roots and bones and forgotten air, Elian Mareth sat cross-legged on a slab of stone. His lightsaber was deactivated at his side. His brow glistened with sweat despite the chill, and his hands trembled slightly over his knees—not from fear, but from the effort of holding his mind together.

He had come here for focus. For silence. The voices of the living had grown too loud lately. The war chants of politics, the whispered doubts of the Jedi Council, and the ever-present hum of unease in the galaxy. But now, even the breath of the cavern had stilled.

And then it happened.

The shift wasn't a violent pull. It was… subtle. A murmur in the Force like an old name he hadn't learned yet, a cold exhale over his heart. His body remained kneeling in meditation—but Elian's soul slipped sideways.

Suddenly, he was standing.

The cavern was gone.

In its place: a vast expanse of grey. Not the grey of stone or clouds or ash, but something more abstract—like emotion, like faded memory, smeared across the world. The Netherworld of the Force.

He staggered forward, hand out as if to steady himself, but there was no surface to grab. Only windless air, soundless space, and a kind of stillness that made the bones ache.

Elian frowned.

"This… isn't a vision."

No—he'd meditated through visions before. He'd seen echoes, walked in dreams. But this was too solid. Too vivid. His skin prickled. His senses pulsed outward, the way he had been taught—reach, don't grab. Let the Force flow.

And that was when he felt it.

A flicker.

Not danger.

Presence.

Someone else was here.

At first, he thought it was a memory—a trick of the mind shaped by grief or curiosity. But no. This wasn't someone he knew. This was someone real. Nearby, but veiled. Unfamiliar. And… Jedi?

Elian's brows tightened.

A wave of unease pushed through the mist, followed by a calm ripple that seemed too deliberate to be natural. Like someone else was walking carefully, trying not to disturb whatever fragile peace this realm offered.

He followed it.

The grey didn't yield easily, and time had no rules here. It may have been minutes or hours. He passed by impressions—fleeting faces that dissolved when looked at directly, temples that crumbled into dust mid-thought, flashes of old battles that weren't his.

And then—finally—he saw her.

Standing ahead, her posture upright, shoulders relaxed but alert. A lone figure, silhouetted in the thick grey light. She had the presence of a Jedi, but not the guarded kind he often saw in the temple. No… she radiated a hard-won stillness. Like someone who had come here before and survived it.

He stopped several paces away, not wanting to intrude. Still, something in him stirred. Something like recognition—but it couldn't be.

He didn't know her.

Did he?

"Hey," Elian called, gently, his voice barely louder than the quiet. "I don't mean to interrupt…"

"...You're real, right?" he asked. "This isn't a test or a trick?"

His voice cracked slightly, but he stood his ground.

"I was meditating in a cave. Next thing I know… I'm here. And I felt you. I don't even know your name, but… I think the Force wanted me to find you."

He hesitated, then added, "I'm Elian Mareth."

The mist swirled around them like it had been holding its breath.

 

[Seo Linn]

As if somebody had walked over her grave again, Seo grew chilled. Good bumps covered her bare arms in the pale grey, and she knew she didn't have her robe on. In this world, that didn't matter, and the wind was outside of her calm sphere of peace. Watching the shadows vie for attention, it wasn't long before one of them became something solid.

It spoke to her. At first, he was quiet. Then his voice broke, and she narrowed her eyes just slightly. Holding a hand out, she would try to touch his shoulder. To check for his solidity as much as he did was by speaking into the silence around them.

"I think I am dead again. This is the Netherworld. That means you're dead as well, Elian Mareth."

Speaking logically, it didn't make sense that they could touch each other. If he looked at the inside of her arm, he would notice there was a faded tattoo. This was a slave's mark, and that meant Seo was either a slave or had been one.

"I am Seo Linn. Jedi Knight."

Bowing a little as she introduced herself, she removed her hand from his shoulder unless he had prevented the contact entirely. It wouldn't matter to her either way. She did want to know if he was real or a stronger soul of the dead. It could be either one, and she hoped he was real. The two of them together might have an easier time escaping this dead land.

Elian Mareth

 

[Elian Mareth]

The moment she reached for him, Elian didn't flinch—but his breath hitched, just enough to betray the rush of uncertainty in his veins. Her hand was light, like mist brushing through him, but it didn't pass through him. That alone startled him.

He turned his head, looking down at the spot where her fingers touched his shoulder. Then at her face—measured, direct, strangely familiar even though he knew he'd never seen her before. Not in any vision. Not in any archive.

Her words echoed louder than her tone.

"That means you're dead as well, Elian Mareth."

He blinked at the name. Hearing it aloud in this place made it feel detached. Like it belonged to someone else. Like she'd spoken it out of a dream.

His gaze drifted toward her arm, catching the faded ink just below the surface of her skin. The mark was unmistakable. He didn't comment on it—not yet. Not until she wanted to.

But he did answer.

"…I don't think I'm dead," Elian said slowly, carefully. "Not completely."

His voice steadied, though it carried a note of wonder. "I can still feel my body. Like… like it's still there, back on Atrisia. I was meditating. Grounded. I didn't feel myself let go. There was no tearing sensation. No severance. Just…"

He paused, sweeping a hand through the mist around them.

"...This."

He looked back at her, standing so poised in the storm. Her presence was powerful—scarred, but unyielding. There was clarity in her posture, but a sadness in her eyes that made him feel like a child again.

"Elian Mareth," he repeated, this time with more conviction. "Jedi Padawan. Or at least, I was. Before this. I've studied the Netherworld, but I never thought I'd actually step into it. Not while still breathing."

His mouth lifted at the corner—a flicker of dry humor, a defense against how unsteady he felt. "If this is death… it's quieter than I expected."

He stepped back half a pace, not out of fear, but out of politeness. His eyes studied the swirling grey beyond her.

"You've been here before."

It wasn't a question.

"You knew the feel of this place before I even spoke. So if I'm wrong—if I am dead—then I guess you're the expert now."

He looked her in the eye again.

"But I don't feel gone. I think the Force pulled me here. Not to die. But to learn something. Or maybe…"

His voice lowered slightly.

"...To meet you."

The storm rumbled faintly in the distance—like a giant exhaling through stone lungs.

He folded his arms and glanced toward the endless horizon.

"If this place lets us go… I'm guessing you know the way better than I do."

He gave her a sidelong look, this time gentler.

 

[Seo Linn]

His shoulder was warm under her fingertips, and that alone told her he wasn't dead as she had said. The same was accurate for her. This was the first time she had made physical contact with anybody within the Netherworld.

"Then again, perhaps I am wrong and neither of us is dead."

Her golden eyes provided a color change to the grey that surrounded them.

"You feel more than I do. What you see is what I am."

Taking a step back, her clothes were well-worn but not worn out. Around her neck was a scarf that had gold threaded through it. It was one aspect that the former slave had in every scarf she had. Not that Elian would know that. If he were at all familiar with cultural clothing, then he might realize it meant she was from a desert world.

"Can you find your way back to your body, Elian? I don't have a body to return to. So if a route out is found, I don't know if I can escape again or not."

With the motion of the atmosphere swirling behind him, her eyes tracked the movements of the spirits that searched for whatever they had lost. Life, loved ones, a future? Seo didn't know and wasn't going to take the time to question anything—only the man in front of her, who was more than a simple dead soul.

"Are you sure you're still breathing? What could have caused you to travel here? Were you thinking about anything in your meditations that could have brought you to this dead landscape?"

Listening to his words, she drew in a breath. It wasn't unheard of to have souls meat like this. Considering this trip for the Knight was unexpected, she didn't know what the answer was. Drawing in a breath, she shook her head and let it go slowly.

"My first time here was to prevent my death. This is, it came and grabbed me back. Like it is something sentient and didn't like letting me go."

Shrugging, she started walking forward just slightly. It would close the distance between them, and unless he stopped her, she would slide an arm under his and hook him at the elbow. Motioning in front of her, "This is where you came from, I think. Let's try going back. You might be able to reconnect with your body and make a return."

Elian Mareth

 

[Elian Mareth]

Elian hesitated as Seo slipped her arm under his, the unexpected warmth of her touch anchoring him in a realm built of echoes.

He took a slow breath, gathering his thoughts. "I… was thinking of Cael." The name slipped out quietly, swallowed by the grey. "He was my friend—my brother in the Order. He fell to the Dark Side not long ago. I keep replaying it, wondering if I could have stopped him, if I should have… if I deserved what he suffered."

His grip tightened slightly on her elbow, as if drawing strength from her steadiness. "I entered meditation hoping to find peace with his loss. I wanted to face my fear—of failure, of death. Maybe in trying to embrace that fear, I opened a door I didn't know existed."

Elian glanced ahead, where the mist thinned into swirling patterns—like smoke drawn toward an invisible flame. "When I saw his face in my thoughts, the pain felt so real I thought I could… follow it. I didn't plan to die. I just wanted to… forgive myself. Instead, I ended up here."

He met her golden eyes. "I'm breathing, yes. Every moment here reminds me I'm alive. But I understand what you said—if you've already crossed, if you can't return, then I'll need to guide us both back, if I can."

He exhaled, the resolve in his voice solidifying. "Lead on, Knight Seo Linn"