Private Where Shadows Learn to Linger

[Varin Mortifer]

Varin’s eyes fell on each body in the room, each one a story of how they fell and what their last thoughts were. The thought always came to him whenever he found a pile of bones anywhere. What knowledge did they hold before it decayed with them?

He glanced at the decorative circles on the floor and the scripts that traced it. He listened to Seren speak as he slowly stepped in. His bootfall quietly echoed in the chamber as he glanced at the shelves full of old tomes and scripts that have begun to rot with time. He stepped around each body, slowly circling to the desk of the head archivist. The dead hand still clenching an old utensil for writing. He looked closer to the page as his hands rested on the desk, printing into the dust for the first time in years.

“Whatever it was they found, it was urgent. You can see the desperation in how they lay, but the head, he just seems…entranced in his work.”

His eye drifted to the parchment below the decayed hand. Faded with time and ink flaking. The script he used was similar to the carvings on the walls.

He slowly lowered his hand to the page tapping the table. The screen on the surface lit up with life as more notes started typing themselves on screen, the light reflecting off the table to the walls and over their faces. Glyphs, scans and notes layered themselves on the screen's surface.

“Seren, you may need to see this.”

He spoke quietly as he watched the notes cross over the screen. Information he could not read, but knew Seren would be able to figure it out.

As he looked at her he noticed another corpse tucked away in the corner clutching an old datapad. Varin slowly stood up and walked over to it, crouching to get a better look when he approached it. He gently retrieved the datapad attempting to power it on.

Dead.

The device had no charge, expected for something that sat waiting for so long.

Seren Gwyn​

 

[Seren Gwyn]

Seren did not rush to his side when he called her. She crossed the chamber with measured care, each step placed deliberately between the bodies, her attention moving with quiet respect rather than revulsion. This was not chaos. This was intention. That distinction mattered.

When she reached the desk, she stopped beside him rather than across from him, close enough that the shifting glow of the screen reflected faintly in her eyes. For several breaths she said nothing, allowing the layered glyphs to settle, to speak in pattern before language. Her expression tightened, not in alarm, but in focus.

"This isn't a record of a discovery," Seren said softly at last.
"It's a process log. Iterative. They weren't documenting what they found so much as tracking how their understanding kept changing."

She leaned closer, one gloved finger hovering just above the desk, careful not to disturb the dust or the dead hand still curled around its stylus.

"This is old Jedi archival shorthand," she continued. "Used when clarity mattered more than elegance. See how the symbols loop back on themselves? That isn't emphasis. It's correction. They kept disproving their own conclusions."

Her gaze shifted briefly to the head archivist, still seated, still bent over the work as if time had simply paused around him.

"He wasn't entranced," Seren said quietly. "He was stabilizing the work. When something triggered the seal on this room, the others panicked. He stayed. Whatever they were close to understanding, it wasn't meant to be interrupted."

She straightened slowly, eyes returning to the screen as more notes continued to layer themselves into place.

"This isn't about immortality," she said. "Or preservation. It's about continuity. Why certain patterns of life, memory, or intent persist even when everything around them collapses. Not how to prevent endings. How meaning survives them."

When Varin mentioned the datapad, her eyes flicked toward the corner where he knelt, then back to the desk.

"If the hardware is intact, we might be able to revive it," Seren added. "There's more stable power in the living area. Even a slow trickle charge could be enough to pull residual data. Archivists were meticulous. They rarely kept only one copy of anything important."

A faint shift passed through her posture then. Subtle. Almost imperceptible. Not fear—attention. Something in the air felt…denser. As if the room were no longer the only thing holding its breath. Seren did not yet know why, only that the stillness had changed.

She looked back at the desk, voice steady, unhurried.

"We should document this," she said. "Carefully. And we shouldn't linger too long."

Her gaze lifted briefly toward the doorway they had entered through, thoughtful rather than alarmed.

"Rooms like this are sealed for reasons that aren't always about keeping others out," Seren finished. "And this place doesn't feel hostile… but it does feel unfinished."

The screen continued to glow. The bodies remained still.

Somewhere beyond the walls of the chamber, something else was no longer quite so patient.

Varin Mortifer

 

[Varin Mortifer]

Varin glanced at the table as the glyphs and writings shifted and layered on the screen, the dead datapad laid silently in his hands.

“Hopefully all of it could have been copied in here.”

He spoke as he passed her the datapad. He towered over the bodies around them a sense of defensive nature coming from him as he walked to her.

“I can keep watch until you feel we are done here. Depending on what we find, maybe we can try to preserve and continue where they left off.”

He felt it too. Something shifting in the temple. He knew when a sensation of electricity flooded the air, he knew what it meant. Something had been hunting them, studying. It felt as if it were done waiting. Varin went quiet for a moment as he focused on that feeling, watched as the glyphs and runes washed over the screen that slowly blended into background ambience to him. The toll of the cold began to call to him, sweat beading on his brow, the slight tightening of his chest making it a bit harder to breathe. He buried the feeling deep, focusing on what was happening now and what could be happening soon.

He walked back to the library table to retrieve the bag that held some equipment he packed. Grabbing it he checked around, feeling with the force. Something, somewhere waited patiently for its time to strike. He felt its presence somewhere in the temple. After another moment and a quick glance around he back himself back to the now opened room, never taking his eyes off what could be following.

He set the bag down by the illuminated table.

“Theres supplies in here just in case. I will be just inside the doorway watching. Let me know if you need my assistance with anything.”

He looked her in the eyes as he spoke, before he turned to the doorway, leaning in the frame with his shoulder, arms crossed over his chest as he watched. Whatever it was, it better hope to kill him first.

Seren Gwyn​

 

[Seren Gwyn]

Seren accepted the datapad from his hands with care, not rushing, not reacting to the tension in his posture beyond a brief acknowledgment in her eyes. She did not challenge his decision to take the doorway. She understood vigilance when she saw it, and she trusted his instincts enough not to interfere.

She set the dead datapad beside the desk, closer to the active surface where glyphs continued to bloom and reassemble, then leaned in, studying the layered projections with quiet intensity. Her fingers hovered just above the light, tracing patterns in the air without touching.

"Most of it copied," she said after a moment, voice calm and even. "Or at least enough that the structure is intact. They weren't documenting results so much as a process."

She shifted slightly, angling the display so she could see the overlaps more clearly.

"These aren't conclusions," Seren continued. "They're iterations. Revisions stacked on revisions. You can see where one archivist corrects another, not to disprove them, but to narrow the margin of error."

Her gaze moved briefly to the head archivist's body at the desk, then back to the screen.

"He wasn't panicking," she added softly. "Not at the end. Whatever happened around him, he stayed focused. That usually means they believed what they were doing mattered more than escape."

She picked up the inert datapad, turning it once in her hands, assessing ports and casing.

"This one's salvageable," Seren said. "No power, but the memory core should still be intact. Once we're back in the living area, we can charge it and see what it holds."

She set it carefully aside, then finally looked toward Varin at the doorway. Not alarmed. Not dismissive. Simply acknowledging the role he'd taken.

"Thank you for the watch," she said quietly. "I won't take it for granted."

Her attention returned to the desk, to the slow language of light and shadow unfolding across the surface.

"What they were working toward wasn't preservation of knowledge for its own sake," Seren went on. "It was continuity. How understanding survives when the people carrying it do not."

She exhaled slowly, grounding herself before continuing.

"If we continue where they left off," she said, measured and certain, "we do it carefully. Not to finish their work for them, but to understand why they were willing to die with it unfinished."

She paused, then added, without looking up,

"I'll let you know if I need you. For now, stay where you are."

The glyphs continued their quiet dance across the desk, the room holding its breath as Seren read on, unaware of what stirred beyond the threshold—but fully present in the weight of what had been left behind.

Varin Mortifer

 

[Varin Mortifer]

He listened as she spoke, the interest was there for him, but the feeling of maintaining security took priority for him. The cold had set further into him, already his body started to work a bit harder to keep him warm. He looked back at her giving her a nod.

“It's what I do. Give protection.”

His gaze fell back into the library, watching for anything that seemed off. The feeling of being watched only grew on him.

“That thing, it's-”

He heard a clatter somewhere in the library and he stood straight grabbing his heavy saber hilt. He held it firm in his hand as he stood just in the doorway, the intensity of his gaze only grew as he took a defensive stance.

“Stay here.”

He spoke to her while keeping watch as he slowly stepped out of the room and back into the library. A new scent clung to the air. Bloodlust. He could feel the creature's intent. It was not hunting for necessity.

Another rustle in the shelves just to his left caused him to switch his stance and grip his saber hilt with both hands, twisting the handle the blade roared to life with crimson flame and plasma. The heat of his body began to smoke beneath his heavy layers, quickly he ripped the jacket off for better flexibility in his body. He didn't have his armor, he needed all the movement he could get.

The cold beared down on his body as the jacket fell to the floor. He stood in his long sleeved shirt that began to burn away. The runes on his body pulsed then held their bright light.

He stepped carefully further into the room. His breathing controlled.

A shift behind him caused him to turn as he watched a shelf fall towards him. Thinking quickly his saber dropped a he caught the heavy shelf with a grunt, he held it up. Then slowly started to push it back before searing hot pain raked across his back. A loud growl of pain left his throat as his warm blood began to soak his back. He quickly threw the shelf back and turned to see nothing.

The wound was not too deep, almost like it was toying with him. His breathing was a bit more labored now as his body worked harder to retain heat.

Seren Gwyn​

 

[Seren Gwyn]

Seren did not rush to him, but she did not stop moving either. She shifted back toward the desk as she spoke, keeping him in her line of sight while her attention divided with practiced ease. One hand rested briefly on the edge of the desk, fingers brushing the dust where the archivist's notes still glowed faintly on the screen.

"Varin," she said quietly, her voice steady enough to cut through the tension without drawing his attention away from the room. "You cannot hold a defensive line if your body burns itself out first."

Her eyes flicked once to the blood darkening his back, then returned to the shifting glyphs.

"Cold environments force your metabolism into overdrive," Seren continued, reading while she spoke, translating patterns even as she monitored him. "Adrenaline masks it, but it doesn't stop it. If you don't replace what you're burning, you will slow down—whether you feel it happening or not."

She reached into the bag at the table, retrieving a ration and a canteen without looking, setting them within his reach rather than pressing them into his hands.

"Eat while you watch," she instructed calmly. "Drink between breaths. You don't need to disengage to do either."

Her attention returned fully to the desk now, eyes narrowing as the layered notes resolved into something more deliberate.

"This isn't random," Seren murmured, more to herself at first, then louder. "The archivist wasn't just recording results. He was cross-checking them—adjusting assumptions in real time."

She paused, then added without looking back at him:

"The creature isn't trying to kill you yet," she said evenly. "That means it's waiting. Fatigue is easier to exploit than strength."

Her fingers moved across the interface, isolating a cluster of symbols.

"So you stay fed. You stay hydrated," Seren finished, voice low but firm. "I'll keep reading. We do both at once—or we don't do this at all."

She did not look up again immediately, trusting him to hear the intent beneath the words as the ancient desk slowly surrendered more of its truth.

Varin Mortifer

 

[Varin Mortifer]

The wounds on his back started to heal, slower than normal as the blood dripped off his shirt to the floor. Seren's words found him as he cautiously made his way back over to the doorway.

“I can already feel the shaking.”

He spoke quietly as he picked up the rations and started eating. Small bites, to make it quicker for chewing.

He looked at her after she spoke.

“You're right. If I push too hard now I become a liability.”

The wounds slowly began to close up, scabbing over instead of burning away like ash. His exhale came out in a shiver, his breath visible as a cloud of steam. The runes on his body stayed bright but were slowly dimming.

“It sounds like…”

Varin grunted a bit as the wounds slowly began to sear, finally starting to cauterize.

“The Head Archivist, was proof reading and double checking behind those under him. Perhaps making sure they all were aligned properly.”

Varin breathed deep as the pain radiated through his back. The claw marks in his shirt ran from his shoulder to his lower back. He took a few deep sips of water, then wiped the sweat from his forehead.

He could feel the creature waiting. And what was worse was his weapon was now outside of the room. He could call it to him but the creature could launch another attack in the small room. An issue he could not afford.

He would have to wait for now until she was ready. The creature seemed contempt on waiting until then too.

“Leaving the room was my mistake. I'll be right here with you.”

He looked at her then watched the doorway.

Seren Gwyn​

 

[Seren Gwyn]

Seren did not look up immediately when he spoke. She stayed with the desk, fingers moving with deliberate care as she isolated another layer of notation, letting his words settle before answering. When she did speak, her tone carried neither alarm nor reproach—only assessment.

"It wasn't entirely a mistake," she said quietly. "It was information."

Her gaze lifted then, steady and clear as it met his.

"You learned how it probes. How it tests. That matters."

She shifted slightly so she could see both him and the doorway without breaking her work, the glow of the desk reflecting faintly across her features.

"What you're feeling now is your body recalibrating," Seren continued. "The healing slowed because you pushed past equilibrium, not because you failed. Eating and drinking will stabilize it. Stay where you are."

Her attention returned to the notes, voice threading back into analysis as easily as breath.

"You're right about the Head Archivist," she said. "These annotations aren't corrections for error—they're alignments. He was ensuring consistency across multiple minds. That tells me this wasn't personal research. It was collective."

A pause. Her brow furrowed slightly.

"Which means whatever they uncovered was dangerous enough to require consensus before action," Seren added. "Or important enough that no single perspective was trusted on its own."

She glanced toward the doorway again, acknowledging the unseen presence without naming it.

"The creature is waiting because it's curious," she said evenly. "Predators that want to kill don't wait. Those who want to understand do."

Her hand paused on the interface, then resumed.

"Stay with me," Seren said, quieter now but firm. "Recover your strength. I'll keep reading. If it moves again, we respond together—not separately."

She did not look away from the desk this time, trusting him to hear the meaning beneath the words.

"You're not a liability," she finished softly. "You're part of the equation. And right now, the equation needs you alive and steady."

The ancient room held its breath as she worked on, the glow of the desk and the quiet of shared resolve standing between them and whatever waited beyond the threshold.

Varin Mortifer

 

[Varin Mortifer]

“I think it…”

He winced slightly as the burning started to fade and the dead flesh fell off his back like ash.

“I think it’s using the shadows. I couldn’t see it. Even when it seemed to be right in front of me.”

He took a couple more bites of the rations. He breathed deep as the shakes and the dizziness started to clear away. Slowly he stood back up still leaning on the wall and slowly made his way to the table to watch her work, keeping an eye on the entrance as well.

“The head archivist was doing what he was supposed to. He was leading. Making sure every piece fit just right where he could. These were not people of action. They were not fighters. They did what they could, watched, took notes and learned. It reflects in their studies.”

He walked back to the doorway stopping just inside.

“I don’t mean that they couldn’t fight. It was that they did not see a need, not yet anyways. They needed to learn first before taking action. Commendable for a leader. Most would have jumped in head first.”

He spat the blood that had been building in his cheek. The small puddle splatting on the ground. He watched it sizzle at first and then start to frost over. He wiped his forearm over his mouth to clean up, then looked at the trail of crimson iron on his arm.

“I’m getting better. The…the rations are helping.”

He slowly glanced at her.

“Thank you.”

He kept his gaze on her.

“You let me know when you are ready. I won’t go anywhere until then. I promise.”

Seren Gwyn​

 

[Seren Gwyn]

Seren did not look up right away as he spoke. Her attention stayed on the desk, on the way the light from its surface flickered and hesitated as if the system itself were straining under the weight of what it had been asked to remember.

Then the glow guttered and went out entirely.

She stared at it for a beat, unimpressed.

A quiet huff left her as she reached out and rapped her knuckles against the side of the desk, not hard enough to damage it, just firm and practiced. The surface flickered once, twice, then stabilized into a dimmer, steadier glow.

"Ancient systems," Seren muttered mildly. "They either last forever or stop out of spite."

She scanned what remained on the display, committing what she could to memory before the light finally faded for good. This time, she did not try to coax it back.

"That's enough for now," she said quietly. "I've got the structure of it. Anything more will need time, power, and a space that isn't actively trying to kill us."

At his words about the creature, she finally turned fully toward him, her expression sharpening with interest rather than alarm.

"Using the shadows makes sense," Seren said, thoughtful. "Not concealment exactly. More like… inhabiting what people stop questioning."

Her eyes flicked briefly to the darkened corners of the room, then back to him.

"If it can move through shadow," she continued, "then it isn't creating cover. It's exploiting habit. Sight. Expectation."

A pause, then a faint, almost dangerous curiosity.

"That also means it may not recognize shadows as territory when they're… repurposed," Seren added. "Which is something I can work with."

She did not elaborate yet. Just noted it. Filed it away.

Her gaze softened slightly as it returned to him, to the steadier set of his stance, the way the worst of the shaking had eased.

"I'm glad you ate," she said simply. "Keep drinking too. Cold like this doesn't care how stubborn you are."

She stepped closer, close enough to be heard without raising her voice.

"You were right about the archivist," Seren said. "Leadership without urgency. Learning before action. It's why they lasted as long as they did… and why they died when the situation changed."

Her eyes met his, steady and clear.

"I'm finished here," she said at last. "And I don't intend to leave you standing alone in a doorway while something stalks us from the dark."

She shifted her pack back onto her shoulder, posture settling into readiness.

"We go together," Seren finished. "Whatever's waiting can adjust to that."

Then she waited for him, not behind him, not ahead of him, but exactly where she meant to be.

Varin Mortifer

 

[Varin Mortifer]

Varin chugged down the rest of the water after she finished speaking. He watched her struggle with the table as it finally died off. He believed her when she said she had cataloged it all in her head. He stood straight as she came to his side, pack ready.

“Perhaps you can deny it shadow?”

He looked at her. He was not sure how her powers worked, but it seemed like a feasible idea.

“The studies can continue when we reach the living quarters.”

He spoke quietly as he looked out of the doorway and around the corners. He gave her a nod when she announced she was finished.

“Stay close.”

He slowly left the doorway Keeping eyes around him. He could feel the slight shifting in the air. He could hear the creature’s soft movements, but he could not track them. He stopped just over his saber hilt on the floor. The blood that littered the floor around it visible in the soft light, had already frozen to the ground. Slowly he picked up his saber.

He slowly led her towards the door out of the library. Something caused the hair on the back of his neck to raise.

It was silent.

He quickly spun around just in time to see a black shadowy blob with claws and teeth lurch right at him. He quickly raised his hands up grasping the creatures arms holding it up. A snarl left the creature and Varin responded with a roar back at it before he rammed his knee into its gut.

The creature broke free and swiped at him, digging into the flesh of his chest with a sickening tearing sound. Varin let out a yell as blood flowed from the wound. He lifted his saber and twisted it, igniting the flaming crimson plasma blade with a roar.

Blood dripped to the floor as the creature lowered itself on its four legs pacing around them. Black scales iridescent coated its body, a draconic lizard like head over its shoulders on a slender yet muscular reptilian body. It let out a challenging hiss at Varin as he set up his defensive stance. The creature backed into the shadows once more to disappear.

Varin winced and placed a hand over his chest. He lifted his hand only seeing the red liquid that coated it. He let out a growl as he stood in front of Seren.

“Can you track him? Or maybe take the shadows away from him?”

Seren Gwyn​

 

[Seren Gwyn]

Seren did not answer him right away.

The moment the creature vanished back into the shadows, she was already moving, senses widening rather than narrowing, attention slipping past what the eyes could follow. The darkness in the library was no longer empty to her. It was crowded. Pressed. Disturbed in places where it should have been still.

"Not take them away," she said quietly, voice level despite the blood soaking through his fingers. "That isn't how this works."

She stepped closer, one hand lifting slightly as the shadows along the walls responded, stretching and thinning like smoke pulled by a current. They slid across the floor, probing, attempting to close around the place where the creature had retreated.

"But I can deny it refuge."

The shadows lunged.

For a fraction of a second, they missed.

The Skarnyx erupted out of the darkness with terrifying speed, far closer than either of them expected. Seren barely had time to react before it lashed out again, claws flashing upward. Varin turned instinctively, too slow, and the strike caught him across the left side of his face.

He cried out as he staggered, blood spilling freely, one eye going dark at once.

Seren's breath hitched, sharp and furious, but her focus did not break.

"Enough."

The shadows surged with purpose this time, snapping tight around the creature's limbs and torso, pinning it mid-motion. The Skarnyx thrashed, hissing and snapping, but Seren drove the darkness inward, compressing, constricting, cutting off its ability to move or melt away again. She stepped in close, one hand lifting as the shadows wrapped higher, locking around its throat and jaw.

The struggle was brief. Violent. Final.

When the creature went still, she did not release it immediately. She waited until the tension bled out of its form, until the shadows confirmed what her senses already knew. Only then did she let it collapse, lifeless, into the darkened stone.

Her attention snapped back to Varin at once.

He was swaying now, blood running down his cheek and soaking into his collar, one hand hovering uselessly near where his eye should have been. Seren crossed the distance between them in two quick steps, catching him before his knees could buckle.

"Easy," she said, low and steady, shadows already shifting to support his weight from beneath, bracing his back and shoulders. "I've got you."

She angled his face gently away from the worst of the blood, assessing without panic, without flinching. Her jaw tightened, but her voice did not waver.

"You're still here," Seren continued, grounding him as much as herself. "That matters more than what it took."

The shadows thickened around them, no longer weapons now but anchors, lifting some of his weight, steadying his steps.

"We're leaving the library," she said firmly. "Living quarters. Now."

She did not wait for argument, guiding him forward, every ounce of her focus split between keeping him upright and ensuring nothing else in the temple dared follow.

Varin Mortifer

 

[Varin Mortifer]

He watched as the shadows seemed to latch onto something. His saber was raised in defense, but he made the mistake of relaxing that defense just slightly when the shadows seemed to move towards it.

The creature watched him, then lunged at him before the shadows could take hold.

Varin tried to turn and lift his saber in defense before…

Blackness.

Blackness bled into crimson.

Crimson bled into pain.

His face felt wet and slick. The scent of freshly spilled iron flooded his nostrils he couldn't see. There was too much blood in his eyes.

He tried his best to wipe it out with his sleeve but one eye remained blackness. His breathing began to quicken then the pain settled.

A yell ripped through his throat as his hand covered over his missing eye. He couldn't blink. The pain radiated further as he slammed into a shelf as Seren silenced the creature. His breathing quickening, grunts of pain following each exhale.

“I can't ….”

He felt his knees buckle as the loss of blood caught up to him. He barely registered her holding him and speaking.

“I can't see, Seren. I can't see!”

His head tilted to the side as blood poured from the wound to the ground. He felt himself hoisted up by unseen forces and guided up steps.

His breathing started to shallow as his balance started to fail.

“I…can't…”

His voice weakened as a grunt erupted from his throat from the pain. Each step he took collected an alarming quantity of blood from him. The healing process was still slower than usual as they made their way back. The temperature slowly rising.

As they crested the steps, smoke began to coalesce in front of them as a draconic creature made of cinder and smoke stepped forward.

"What happened to him!"

The creature's voice growled towards them, the aggression that disguised care taking forth as Ignati walked beside them, questioning Seren of the most recent events.

“....I…can't…”

Varin tumbled to a knee. The rising temperature kicking in his body. The wounds started to close on his chest and face. But blood still flowed from his socket.

His body had grown pale. His hands were trembling. His voice slowly became a whisper as unconsciousness began to take him. The vision that he had left, left a red tint where any color would be, slowly began to tunnel to black.

"Don't let him go unconscious!"

Ignati looked over to Varin's cold box

"In there! There is a bacta injector."

Seren Gwyn​

 

[Seren Gwyn]

Seren did not recoil at Ignati's sudden appearance, nor did she rise to the aggression in his voice. She adjusted her grip on Varin instead, grounding him more firmly as his weight sagged and his breath stuttered.

"I know," she said evenly, not looking at Ignati yet, her focus entirely on Varin. "He's still with us. Don't crowd him."

One hand slid to the back of Varin's neck, fingers pressing with deliberate force, anchoring him, keeping his awareness present. Her other hand came up to his cheek, careful not to touch the wound itself.

"Varin," she said quietly, firmly, her voice cutting through the panic. "Stay with me. Breathe. In through your nose. Out through your mouth. Do not chase the dark."

She leaned her forehead briefly against his temple, letting the steadiness of her presence do some of the work words could not. The shadows that had carried him this far shifted again, tightening their support so he would not collapse further.

Only then did she look up at Ignati.

"The creature ambushed us," Seren said calmly. "Shadow-adapted. Fast. He took the hit meant to keep it off me."

Her gaze flicked to the cold box at Ignati's warning.

"The bacta," she said sharply. "Where."

She listened for only a second, then nodded once.

"Good," Seren said, already shifting her stance. "I don't think you can carry it. I will."

Without breaking contact with Varin, she extended her will outward. The shadows responded immediately, peeling away in controlled strands that slid across the floor toward the cold box. Metal scraped softly against stone as it was dragged back within reach.

"Varin," she said again, steady and close, "eyes on me. Do not close them."

As soon as the container reached her, the shadows re-formed beneath him, restoring their support. Seren opened the box and retrieved the injector with practiced efficiency.

While she worked, she shifted inward again, drawing on the Force with restraint. This was not battlefield healing meant to erase wounds. This was stabilization. Containment. She eased the shock, slowed the bleeding where she could, careful not to fight his body's own efforts.

"I can't restore what's lost," she murmured to Varin, honest even now, "but I can keep you here long enough to survive it."

Her thumb pressed gently against his jaw, forcing his head to stay upright.

"You're not allowed to go unconscious," she added, softer but no less firm. "Not yet. Stay angry if you have to. Stay stubborn. Just stay."

She administered the bacta without hesitation, movements precise despite the blood.

"We stabilize him," Seren said to Ignati, eyes never leaving Varin. "Then we move him somewhere warm and clean."

Her hold did not loosen. Not for a second.

"You can yell at me later," she added quietly.

Varin Mortifer

 

[Varin Mortifer]

Ignati walked with them as the trail of blood followed as well. Varin’s breathing echoing in the walls as the scent of crimson iron filled the air.

“We are almost there, boy. You had better hold on.”

Ignatis deep voice rattled the chest, low and quiet, but enough to carry over the chaos.

“I knew sooner or later it would complicate things. Sith Spawn have a unique talent of throwing plans off.”

Ignati’s body flared with embers allowing the temperature to gradually rise around Varin and Seren. Varin could hear every word that was spoken, he tried to will his own voice, his own speech. The mind echoed his words but his mouth could not reciprocate. He could see the concern in her eyes, and the concern in Ignati’s as well. He could hear the violent scraping of metal as the cold box was slid towards them.

...Get…angry…

His breaths echoed in his ears.

...Stay…stubborn…

Behind them he noticed someone new. A tall armored figure with a flaming crown. Eyes glowing like white fire staring at him.

Focus.

The sharp prick of the bacta injector caused his body to jolt as a sharp inhale of air rushed through him. His hand shot up to Seren’s shoulder, holding tightly, grip weakened but still tightly. His heart beat’s rapid tempo began to slow and normalize as his good eye stayed on her. Gazing into hers. Again the voice spoke.

Focus, son.

The bacta began to work its way into his system, a rush of energy like a quick wave washed over him, a deep exhale followed by a tremor in his voice escaped his throat as the wound in his chest began to burn and seal.

“...Seren…”

The vision started to return as his grip slowly started to loosen from from her shoulder, more controlled. He took deep slow breaths and slow exhales. His bloodied hand gently wrapped around hers. Ignati stepped closer, the orange glow within his body illuminating the walls, the runes on Verin’s body began to pulse slowly. His footing finally began to stabilize as he slowly started to pick himself up with the shadows and Seren’s assistance. He could still only see out of his right eye, pain shooting within his left eye socket. He knew what was taken from him. He knew she did what she could. Resting his other hand on the wall beside them he helped reduce the weight of his body. Blood still oozed from his eye, but slowly the wounds began to heal.

“I’m…not going anywhere.”

Seren Gwyn​

 

[Seren Gwyn]

Seren stayed close as Ignati's presence filled the corridor with heat, one arm firm around Varin's back, the other steadying his wrist when his grip tightened on her shoulder. She did not flinch at the injector or the sudden surge through his body. She felt the change in him immediately, the frantic edge beginning to dull, his breath finding a rhythm again.

"Easy," she murmured, keeping her voice low and even, close enough that it cut through the ringing in his ears. "I've got you. You did exactly what you needed to do."

Her free hand closed over his, anchoring him as the bacta took hold. She adjusted her stance to take more of his weight when his knees wavered, shadows tightening subtly beneath his boots to keep him upright without forcing him to move faster than his body could manage.

"Don't fight the pain," Seren continued quietly. "Let it exist. Let it pass. You're safe enough for now."

She lifted her gaze to Ignati briefly, unruffled by the cinder-and-flame figure looming nearby.

"The injector's in," she said calmly. "His vitals are stabilizing. We need warmth, stillness, and time. Nothing else until he's steady on his feet."

Her attention returned to Varin as his grip eased and his breathing slowed. When he spoke, when he insisted he was not going anywhere, she answered without hesitation.

"I know," Seren said, certainty in her tone. "And you won't. Not tonight."

She shifted just enough to meet his remaining eye, steady and present.

"What you lost won't define you," she added softly, not dismissing the truth of it, but refusing to let it consume the moment. "What you chose to do back there already says more."

With a gentle squeeze of his hand, Seren guided him forward again, slow and deliberate, letting the shadows and her own weight share the burden.

"One step at a time," she said. "We get you inside, we sit, and we let your body finish what it's started."

She did not let go as they moved, her presence constant, unshaken, carrying him forward without ever making him feel alone.

Varin Mortifer

 

[Varin Mortifer]

Her voice reached him again, easing, grounding. Slowly step by step they climbed. Every now and then a grunt of pain would escape him as the wounded flesh cracked and seared themselves shut. The dead flesh falling away. He lived in it. The pain, he thrived in it. He knew that as long as he felt pain he was alive. He embraced it. He was not done with the galaxy and it was not done with him. He listened to her words, he did not try to take on his full weight, he knew he would just be making the trek that much more difficult.

Ignati looked at her, then at the injector.

“Good. It will not replenish the heat but it will kickstart the healing. The heat will take time. Once we get to the living quarters we will lay him down to rest.”

Varin breathed slowly as his hand gently slipped into his pocket pulling out his bone rosary. Instinctively he began to thumb over each bead, muttering to himself. A way to keep his focus, before another wave of pain radiated through him causing him to sneer and growl from the feeling. His rosary dropped onto the floor, covered in his blood.

Quietly he muttered to himself as he seemed to stare at something beyond all of them.

“You…will not…take me…”

He repeated the phrase a few times, each time a promise to himself to keep pushing. He continued to climb with them. Seren spoke to him again causing him to pause.

“I sacrificed, to protect.”

A shaking breath left him as he slowly looked at her.

“It’s what I do.”

He sneered at the pain as it crept through him again. The top of the stairs were now visible, the threshold that led into the living quarters was just in reach.

“Save your strength, boy. We are nearly there.”

The heat continued to radiate off of Ignati and on the two of them. Sinew noticed the two of them approaching and walked over excitedly before seeing Varin and quickly placed herself under his arm to rest as she helped drag him, whimpering quietly to herself.

Seren Gwyn​

 

[Seren Gwyn]

Seren slowed with him when his steps faltered, adjusting without a word so the rhythm stayed his. When the rosary slipped from his hand and struck the floor, she noticed, but she did not stop them. Some anchors were meant to fall away when their work was done.

At his muttered vow, at the way he stared past the present moment as if daring something unseen to challenge him, her grip tightened just slightly, not restraining him, just reminding him where he was.

"It already tried," she said quietly, voice steady and unafraid. "And it failed."

When he spoke of sacrifice, when he said it was what he did, Seren turned her head just enough to look at him properly, not with pity, not with awe, but with clear understanding.

"I know," she answered. "And that choice is still yours. No one took it from you."

Another grunt tore from him as pain surged again. She did not tell him to be quiet. Pain was not weakness, and she would not shame him for surviving loudly.

"Don't push past what you need to," Seren murmured, matching her pace to his shortened stride. "You don't have to prove anything to get there."

As the threshold came into view and Ignati spoke, Seren inclined her head slightly in agreement, already shifting her stance to guide Varin toward it. When Sinew hurried forward and pressed herself against him, helping without being asked, Seren allowed the moment, a quiet exhale leaving her.

"Easy," she said softly, more to the space around them than to any one of them. "We've got you. All of us."

She kept her arm firm at Varin's back, shadows steady beneath his feet, her presence unwavering as they crossed into warmth at last.

"Just a little farther," Seren added, calm and certain. "You held the line. Now let us hold you."

Varin Mortifer

 

[Varin Mortifer]

Varin felt the weight of Sinew at his side and instinctively his hand brushed up her shoulder and then scratched behind her ear. His legs crossing the threshold into the living space as Seren spoke to him. His hand gently squeezed hers as they made their way towards his bed.

He tried to speak, but the words only formed jumbled sentences.

CC walked in from the front after pulling a short watch and looked at them all.

“Varin?!”

He quickly hurried over his eyes taking on a more orange hue as he scanned his vitals.

“I apologize. I should have been down there to help and watch your backs.”

Varin slowly laid back onto the mattress wincing a bit as his eye socket started to heal.

“It was the creature wasn't it?”

CC looked at Seren as Varin eased into the mattress, the fresh blood starting to smear on the sheets. The cold breeze blew into the temple with a soft whisper, a whisper of home and sanctuary.

Varin gently placed his arm on CC's.

CC looked down at him. Then back at Seren.

“I have some medical bandages, to keep infection away. It would help him a lot in the healing process until his body temperature rises again.”

Varin looked at Seren with a quiet somberness before speaking quietly and weakly again.

“Don't...don't leave me…alone…”

Sinew climbed on the bed at his feet, curling up and laying her muzzle on his shin. Watching after him.

The sound of the medical box shifting quietly traveled towards them as CC retrieved the medical box. Quietly returning back to them he set it on the table by the two force users.

“He seems to be stable for now. He will need rest.”

Varin's eye shifted to the figure in the corner. Its burning crown and vibrant white eyes staring into him, but silent. As if watching the whole thing to see what the outcome will be.

Ignati sat by the bed, emanating heat towards them for Varin to absorb. He sat in silence as they spoke to each other.

Seren Gwyn​

 

[Seren Gwyn]

Seren stayed close as they eased him onto the bed, one hand never leaving his, the other steady at his shoulder as his weight finally settled into the mattress. She did not rush. Panic would only steal what little strength he had left.

When CC spoke, her attention lifted briefly, measured and calm.

"You couldn't have anticipated it," Seren said quietly. "It wasn't hunting at first. It was waiting."

Her focus returned immediately to Varin as blood darkened the sheets beneath him. Her thumb brushed his knuckles in a slow, deliberate rhythm, something steady for him to feel.

"You're back in the living quarters," she told him gently. "You're safe. Stay with me."

At CC's mention of bandages, Seren nodded once.

"Yes," she said. "Clean first. Then bind. Don't apply pressure where the tissue is still sealing."

She shifted just enough to give CC space to work, but she did not step away from the bed. When Varin spoke again, her posture softened immediately, fractured and barely formed. She leaned closer, close enough that he would not have to search for her presence.

"I'm not leaving," Seren said firmly, no hesitation in her voice. "Not tonight. Not while you're like this."

Her hand moved to his temple, careful, respectful of the injury, her presence in the Force settling around him like a stabilizing current. She did not try to heal what could not be restored. She focused on keeping his breathing even, his awareness anchored, his body encouraged to continue what it had already begun.

Sinew's weight at the foot of the bed earned a brief glance, and Seren exhaled softly.

"Good," she murmured. "Stay with him."

She acknowledged Ignati's heat only in the way she adjusted her stance, making sure Varin remained within it, conserving what warmth she could for him.

"Rest now," Seren said quietly, fingers tightening just enough around his hand to keep him grounded. "You've done enough for one day. We'll deal with the rest when you wake."

She stayed there as CC worked, as the room slowly warmed, as Varin's breathing steadied — a calm, unwavering presence at his side, not watching, not waiting for answers, simply holding the line until he no longer needed her to.

Varin Mortifer