Lost Fire

[Arla]

It had been a long time since Arla had been to Natth. She had first met Nakoa here when they found this ancient lab together. Treasure, adventure, Force-using lizards. It had had it all. She had no idea at the time that he would become such a good friend to her. She had returned to the underground and now knelt onto the ground. In front of her, she had gathered numerous items. The first, was a luxum crystal pulled only moments earlier from the lake's depths. The second was a bowl filled with water of the lake, now enchanted by the Nightsister's ichor and transformed. The third was the holocron left behind by her mother. Together, they formed the triumvirate that would dominate her life in the coming hours or perhaps even days.

In a way, Arla was relieved to be here. Being on Dathomir she could only see her mother everywhere she looked. The pain of her loss was so acute and profound that even accessing the fire within her seemed distant, faint, and difficult. Perhaps that was why she had come here to Lake Natth. It was potent in the Force and in the Dark Side. It wasn't the Twin Worlds or Dathomir. Although the lake's power had been created by a Sith and this location had been used by Sith - even Darth Raze - for things over the years, it wasn't a planet that was anyone's. It belonged to neither Sith nor Jedi. It didn't belong to the Nightsisters or the Matukai or the Fallanassi. It simply existed. It was a place where she could go and find whatever she needed to find within herself.

That was easier said than done.

 

[Arla]

Her eyes swept over the items in front of her, and she started first with the crystal. She picked it up and it thrummed through her fingertips, igniting them like lightning and tugging at her mind. She reached out to it, plunging her mind into its depths, but rather than the ease with which she normally found the Shadow coming to her, it was a struggle. Like pressing through mud or pushing against a concrete wall.

Her mind was pulled back to the day that she had worked so hard on the amulet around her neck, and she reached up a hand to touch it now. It was so alive with power from a father she had never really known. She thought of how her mother had encouraged her and pressed her onward, nudging her in the right direction but without simply giving her the answer. She thought of the day Raze had told her about who her father really was. That Arla, herself, was simply a consolation prize. She thought of that day in the hotel room when Jaikus and Mother had come to see her. The sensations she felt in her mind and the love that ran so deep.

Tears tugged at her eyes. Now, Mother was gone. The anchor that had always guided her through her life was stolen away from her by the Empire. How could she not want to hunt them down? They had raped her homeworld and killed her mother.

A spark of rage broiled within her and she slammed her hand down with the crystal still inside of it. The clear crystal seemed to respond to its owners emotion, and Arla pulled on it, letting it summon up within her.

She dropped the crystal into the ichor and let that anger flow out of her fingertips as green lightning.

Why hadn't Mother left? Why hadn't she fled? She could have brought half the galaxy down with her if she chose. Look at Darth Raze and the power he wielded. Why had she sacrificed herself? Why had she let it happen?

And then the anger began to subside. She knew the answer, and she let her mind fall into that answer.

 

[Arla]

Mother had loved Dathomir. Even more than Arla loved it, and she had always seen it as her job to protect it and watch over it. While that was the responsibility of all Nightsisters, Mother had always had an even greater focus on it. But she also knew that her mother had done it for herself. She had hunted for her own knowledge. She had pushed her own power because she could. It wasn't so different from what Arla was doing now, was it?

If Arla someday decided to go back to Dathomir and claim the throne would she drag her own enemies back with her? Would she ever go back?

What was her destiny? She had chosen not to follow after her mother or her father or Darth Raze. She had chosen to form Apex. She had left behind the Sith and the Nightsisters. In a way, though, she had chosen to latch onto her birthright as embodiment of the hunt. She had chosen to become the apex predator in the galaxy.

She felt a spark of energy flowing through her as she did. She thought of those she had met and worked with in that profession. She thought of Nakoa and how he had always been there for her. Every mission, every job, he managed to always have her back and she never had to doubt it.

She thought of how Emryc had given her the amulet she wore around her neck. Made sure she was ready to face any threat that she might find. She thought of how Jaikus had always been there to give her advice and guide her through things. Even despite the pain of her loss, it brought a warm to her chest and the faintest smile tugged at her lips. She let the warmth pour down through her arm and into the pool of ichor. She let herself become one with it.

 

[Arla]

It brought her all back to one question: who was she? What was her place in the galaxy now? Once again, her mind returned to the message left behind at the funeral. If she was never Queen or Sith or Nightsister, her mother would be proud. She had decided to follow her own path and so far, it seemed she was good at it.

She was... happy. The thought hadn't crossed her mind until now, but she enjoyed what she did. She enjoyed being a hunter and she would only improve in time. She was still a daughter and now a sister, but what role did this fill within her? Could she still fit it if she wanted to be Venatrix?

Why did she need to limit herself?

What she wanted was within her reach if she would only reach out and take it. She felt a sense of surety as she sat there, her energy flowing into the crystal. She took a deep breath. The hole in her heart was still there, but despite it, she knew that she would endure. She knew who she was now, and she wouldn't back away from it.

 

[Arla]

With that surety came the need to do another things. Confront the holocron. Darth Kravos was not a man to be trifled with, and she wondered if it wasn't imprudent to be doing this now when she was in such a state of distress. But she was done waiting.

She opened the holocron and was greeted by a man whose armor she recognized. She recognized it in part because she had seen recordings of her father wearing it once. It was an odd sensation. The conversation with the holocron went on and on. She didn't know how many hours she remained there, sustained by the Shadow, and lost in the information.

Darth Kravos had incites into the Sith that she had never understood. Information that stretched beyond the scope of what any of her instructors in the Sith Empire had ever been able to teach her. It was knowledge. It was an understanding of what it meant to truly be such a potent force in the galaxy. She found herself craving it.

She delved deeper until she had pried out its secrets. Hours passed into days, and she lost all track of time. She had always been voracious and hungry for knowledge, and it only became worse now.

The final step to her transformation lay ahead. To tear down and rebuild one's own mind.

 

[Arla]

Her mind turned inward on itself, and she was forced to face down all the deep, dark corners of her psyche. She had - on rare occasion - summoned the worst memories of people's minds out of the dark corners of their brains and forced them to live through it. Now, she would face her own fears.

She let her mind drift down into itself. She saw - though it wasn't truly possible to do so - her mother's death. She knew it was a vision for the Force, and she knew that it was real. Even if it was over and done, she watched her mother's arm cut free and her body slammed into a wall. She saw her slump to the ground before melting into nothingness.

She saw that the one who killed her wasn't any member of the Empire, but it was now Arla's own fears. It was her uncertainty and her indecision. It was Arla's inability to stop the purge of the Empire. It was Arla's having left Dathomir. It was her mother being alone. That was what had killed her, and it was all Arla's fault.

And as quickly as the images came, the young Nightsister cut them down. They were lies. They were doubt and uncertainty that would threaten to eat her up, and she wouldn't let them. She had finally found herself and peace with her place in the galaxy. She would destroy these thoughts, smite them from her mind.

A ring of green fire erupted from her consciousness, spreading and scalding everything, burning away her fears and leaving nothing in their wake but planes of ash and dust.

And from that ash and dust, she built up the fortress of her mind. Ash became stone and then walls. A labyrinth of protection around herself. Her fears would become her strength, and her power would flow from it.

She built a maze that no one but her could navigate, and when it was done, her eyes opened again. The silvery orbs were replaced by blazing green fire that matched the kyber crystal now floating in front of her. Wisps of ichor flowed off of the crystal whose black center seemed appropriate all its own.

She extended her hand, and the crystal came to settle in it. It was alive in a way that she had never felt before, filled with a fire that matched hers. She took a deep breath and held it close to her.

Her place was clear, and she wouldn't turn away from it now.