Gasping, just as he wanted, Amore felt the words of her prayer catch on the rise of blood from her chest. Her heart swelled in a quaking, forceful beat against him, harder, more painful with every breath. She coughed, splattering blood across the front of her robes as it pooled in her mouth and dripped from her nostrils.
"I honor the light, love, truth,
beauty and peace within you,
because it is also within me."
The words were not coming from her anymore, but were echoed by her attending White Cloaks who stood staring, hurting at her pain. The Force Shield around her quivered and vanished, its light ephemeral. Her heart seized and her fingers kneaded at her chest, trying to will it to continue the fight.
She didn't hear the ring of swords and daggers drawn from their sheaths around her, or the voices speaking in low unison.
Every breath was a struggle, haggard, her lungs drowning in blood. Suddenly the whole of her life flashed through her mind's eye - all the things that were; her family, her friends, her home on Kuat, how the longing in her heart for all things familiar and the pain of being away for so long ...it could not compare to what she felt now. This pure malice, this unyielding rage. She reveled in the thoughts of her loved ones and remembered their faces as her eyes took on a vapid glaze. Her mother, father, brother and now her nephew and her uncle, even her distant cousin so aloof. Theirs was a family so tightly knit - how she missed those days spent together. And of her people? The graceful souls of Kuat, the loyal followers of Moross. She felt remorse for the years she felt slipping from her, what good she could have brought ... how had it all been in vain? She was supposed to be here learning how to lead so that someday she might do just that at the heart of the Republic. The lives she could have helped, the wounds she could have mended. Tears of pain gushed from the corners of her eyes. Her thoughts reeled at incomprehensible speed, she experienced it all in the few blinks of an eye until all the world went black.
The Reviver gave a final gasp as she felt her heart break within her - a feeling she would never be able to put into words. It was all the pain in the galaxy, it was all the sadness at once. Slowly, her arm that had supported her from falling to the floor crumpled and gave out.
"In sharing these things
we are united, we are the same,
we are one."
The White Cloak guard turned to face Mikhail, blades drawn, eyes alight with fervent purpose.
"Namasté"
The honor echoed briefly around the Thronebreaker as one by one, each one reached to remove their helmet and raised their weapons. One by one, in a display of holy solidarity, slit their own throats. The bodies dropped with the cacophony of their armor smashing against the floor.
Blood began to pool beneath each.
The hall fell desparately still and quiet.
Mikhail was alone, for now, and had succeeded today in breaking the Heart of the Crusade.
A stray ray of warm sunlight filtered through the stained glass windows of the cathedral, pouring down across the dark devil who stood there. A flow of energy might be felt, if he were so inclined to sense it over his own roiling soul, to feel it over his own beating heart.
It was said by many a Master of the Force that it worked in mysterious ways. That no matter what side one took, every now and then under the perfect circumstances - miracles could happen.
Mikhail's heartbeat was suddenly joined by a second, quieter, weaker beat, but one that with every moment that passed, grew a little stronger.
Amore's fingers curled against the coldness of the stone stiles beneath as the woman took a shallow, rattling breath. The second beat soldiered on, resilient. Those fingers flattened now, a shaken strength returning to them.
My name...
A gentle voice spoke to Mikhail over the Force, non-invasive, but simply there for him to hear. A distant painful echo.
...is Amorella...
Strength became action, as quite suddenly the still form of the Reviver pushed up from the floor. Slowly, movements stiff, she sat up. Before his very eyes the woman who had just lain dead not moments ago was once again on her feet. Robes stained with blood, blue eyes settled upon him as unwavering as ever. As hopeful for his soul as they had been the moment he arrived.
"...and I forgive you, [member="Mikhail Shorn"]," Amore's voice was weak, but full of conviction, "for what you have done to me."