Renfry had returned to the tomb of Darth Kravos for reasons all her own. She came without anyone else, she'd told no one where she was going, and she'd not wanted the presence of anyone else... except Kravos. She knew that without his holocron she wouldn't be having any interaction with him, he wouldn't speak to her, and that was fine. The reason she'd returned was to clear her mind, to confront truths about herself, and to merely be in the presence of the former-Dark Lord.
She made her way slowly through the tomb. There was no rush this time as she examined everything there. Carvings in languages she didn't speak, totems in the walls, and bones on the floor. There was still residues of the Force where the illusions had once been maintained, and beyond that was the presence of the spirit.
She knew more of the Veil than most Sith, and like on Dathomir, it was thin here. The Spirits were trying to claw their way across, but none of the presences were more potent than the one she had first met in the cave on Korriban. She could feel it creeping along her spine as she walked and even after all these millennia, the power that it had was incredible. The only being alive she had met that came even close was the Eternal. Even the Grandmaster of the Jedi - for all his power - seemed eclipsed by the Sith Lord's of old. For that matter, so was the Eternal.
She felt there was some sort of homage she should have paid for being here, but there was nothing she could or would do.
She arrived at the tomb and looked to the massive body that lay to the side of the tomb. It wasn't like anything she'd seen before and though it reminded her a bit of the rancors on Dathomir, she knew it wasn't one. It was too small, but far too large to be a normal man. No burial for the being... or was it creature? Right... one of the abominations from the tomb. That was what they'd been called: creatures shaped and twisted by the Dark Side.
She moved to the stairs and took a seat, crossing her legs as she closed her eyes. She could feel fear tugging at her mind just as the chill of the tomb tugged at her body, but she refused to give in. Although she was alone, she knew she wasn't alone, and the echoes of a Dark Lords mind were not things that she hoped to confront.
She shut out everything in the world around her and began to meditate. And there was much that required meditation. She had seen Kravos help turn Emryc's mind into a fortress, and she had seen the techniques required. That was what had "brought" her here, but she knew that was only a fraction of the real reason. She'd come here because she needed to think and because in order to become what she hoped to be, she could keep no secrets from herself. She needed to find her place. To reconcile her thoughts, actions, and goals.
Body, mind, and spirit. Those were what she had committed to the cause of the Sith, but what did that mean? At Ajan Kloss she had chosen to abandon the teachings she'd been raised in and commit herself fully to the Sith, but why? Knowledge? Desire? Passion?
The Sith taught that passion was the path to strength, but what type of passion? Passion for a person? For a cause? Did she need to embrace all her vices? To deny herself one pleasure that she might ignite passion for another thing?
Stop sugar-coating the issue, she told herself. To turn her mind into a fortress, however, there needed to be no secret and nothing she wouldn't confront. She'd avoided these questions for too long, and no longer.
Get to the heart of the issue or get out. She had left Dathomir in order to grow in knowledge. She had done that. She had grown in power since coming to the Sith that could nearly match that of the veteran matrons of the Nightsisters and all in the course of a few years since leaving her home.
She was doing well. Sometimes. Then there was Emryc. The man had been an enigma to her, and a puzzle she thought she could crack, but that delusion was being quickly swept aside. For some reason, despite the speed with which she was able to learn things, she couldn't get it through her thick head that she was making a fool of herself. She was pursuing shadows and dust. Shadows and dust she thought to herself. Something she knew wasn't real - had been told wasn't real - and yet she did it anyway. And why? She didn't know. Even amidst her meditation, she shook her head in disappointment at herself. The real question she needed to ask was did she love him? She wasn't sure. She was drawn to him in a way she couldn't explain, but true love? That seemed unlikely, as if she deluded herself. And that was the heart of the issue. She felt something, but... shadows and dust. You can't love him. It's that simple.
She'd come to the Sith for knowledge and had found power. The two went hand in hand. She was a hunter - or so she'd always told herself - but her meeting with Asminys had called that into question as well. Was she simply lying to herself? Playing at running with wolves until she was eventually discovered to be nothing but a part of the herd. She refused to believe it. She could be whatever she chose to be, and a victim wasn't on the list.
And yet she'd sworn herself to his service. Was that something she could continue? Was it something she wanted to continue? Yes, but she would not limit herself either. Nothing was going to be handed to her by him, by the Eternal, or by any of the other Lords of the Sith. You get what you can take. They were words she had said to others before, but they were applicable to her as well. The Fanged Spirit was one of strength. The markings that covered her body from head to toe were marks of devotion to that belief, and yet she dishonored her own self and what she said she stood for.
No more. She wouldn't allow it. She needed no one and she needed nothing. Even as she said it, she had her doubts, but they had no place. Victory begin in the mind.
Peace is a lie, there is only passion. Through passion I gain strength. Through strength I gain victory. Through victory my chains are broken. The Force will set me free. Nowhere in that code was there room for weakness, insecurity, or angst. Yet this is what she'd allowed herself to be plagued by. She was ashamed of what she had let others see of her.
No more, she thought. Take what you want and never lie to yourself.
She made her way slowly through the tomb. There was no rush this time as she examined everything there. Carvings in languages she didn't speak, totems in the walls, and bones on the floor. There was still residues of the Force where the illusions had once been maintained, and beyond that was the presence of the spirit.
She knew more of the Veil than most Sith, and like on Dathomir, it was thin here. The Spirits were trying to claw their way across, but none of the presences were more potent than the one she had first met in the cave on Korriban. She could feel it creeping along her spine as she walked and even after all these millennia, the power that it had was incredible. The only being alive she had met that came even close was the Eternal. Even the Grandmaster of the Jedi - for all his power - seemed eclipsed by the Sith Lord's of old. For that matter, so was the Eternal.
She felt there was some sort of homage she should have paid for being here, but there was nothing she could or would do.
She arrived at the tomb and looked to the massive body that lay to the side of the tomb. It wasn't like anything she'd seen before and though it reminded her a bit of the rancors on Dathomir, she knew it wasn't one. It was too small, but far too large to be a normal man. No burial for the being... or was it creature? Right... one of the abominations from the tomb. That was what they'd been called: creatures shaped and twisted by the Dark Side.
She moved to the stairs and took a seat, crossing her legs as she closed her eyes. She could feel fear tugging at her mind just as the chill of the tomb tugged at her body, but she refused to give in. Although she was alone, she knew she wasn't alone, and the echoes of a Dark Lords mind were not things that she hoped to confront.
She shut out everything in the world around her and began to meditate. And there was much that required meditation. She had seen Kravos help turn Emryc's mind into a fortress, and she had seen the techniques required. That was what had "brought" her here, but she knew that was only a fraction of the real reason. She'd come here because she needed to think and because in order to become what she hoped to be, she could keep no secrets from herself. She needed to find her place. To reconcile her thoughts, actions, and goals.
Body, mind, and spirit. Those were what she had committed to the cause of the Sith, but what did that mean? At Ajan Kloss she had chosen to abandon the teachings she'd been raised in and commit herself fully to the Sith, but why? Knowledge? Desire? Passion?
The Sith taught that passion was the path to strength, but what type of passion? Passion for a person? For a cause? Did she need to embrace all her vices? To deny herself one pleasure that she might ignite passion for another thing?
Stop sugar-coating the issue, she told herself. To turn her mind into a fortress, however, there needed to be no secret and nothing she wouldn't confront. She'd avoided these questions for too long, and no longer.
Get to the heart of the issue or get out. She had left Dathomir in order to grow in knowledge. She had done that. She had grown in power since coming to the Sith that could nearly match that of the veteran matrons of the Nightsisters and all in the course of a few years since leaving her home.
She was doing well. Sometimes. Then there was Emryc. The man had been an enigma to her, and a puzzle she thought she could crack, but that delusion was being quickly swept aside. For some reason, despite the speed with which she was able to learn things, she couldn't get it through her thick head that she was making a fool of herself. She was pursuing shadows and dust. Shadows and dust she thought to herself. Something she knew wasn't real - had been told wasn't real - and yet she did it anyway. And why? She didn't know. Even amidst her meditation, she shook her head in disappointment at herself. The real question she needed to ask was did she love him? She wasn't sure. She was drawn to him in a way she couldn't explain, but true love? That seemed unlikely, as if she deluded herself. And that was the heart of the issue. She felt something, but... shadows and dust. You can't love him. It's that simple.
She'd come to the Sith for knowledge and had found power. The two went hand in hand. She was a hunter - or so she'd always told herself - but her meeting with Asminys had called that into question as well. Was she simply lying to herself? Playing at running with wolves until she was eventually discovered to be nothing but a part of the herd. She refused to believe it. She could be whatever she chose to be, and a victim wasn't on the list.
And yet she'd sworn herself to his service. Was that something she could continue? Was it something she wanted to continue? Yes, but she would not limit herself either. Nothing was going to be handed to her by him, by the Eternal, or by any of the other Lords of the Sith. You get what you can take. They were words she had said to others before, but they were applicable to her as well. The Fanged Spirit was one of strength. The markings that covered her body from head to toe were marks of devotion to that belief, and yet she dishonored her own self and what she said she stood for.
No more. She wouldn't allow it. She needed no one and she needed nothing. Even as she said it, she had her doubts, but they had no place. Victory begin in the mind.
Peace is a lie, there is only passion. Through passion I gain strength. Through strength I gain victory. Through victory my chains are broken. The Force will set me free. Nowhere in that code was there room for weakness, insecurity, or angst. Yet this is what she'd allowed herself to be plagued by. She was ashamed of what she had let others see of her.
No more, she thought. Take what you want and never lie to yourself.