Ask The Gathering

[The Storyteller]

Elsewhere, the moment Brahe's fingers touched his own mirror, the thin membrane of ice vanished and he found himself face-to-face with his Master. But his Master's image was fleeting. The towering Jedi had a red blade sticking out from between his rib-cage and, with his dying breath, he said, "You were too late. You were... too... late..."

The Jedi Master fell forward and flat onto the ground between Brahe and a new figure. This figure was shrouded in a dark cloak, face hidden within a deep hood. But it held a lightsaber, burning crimson like the blood spilling out of Brahe's Master's corpse. The figure raised its free hand and sprayed tendrils of lightning into the Jedi Master's fallen body; and Brahe would watch in horror as his Master's body was obliterated right before his eyes.

"You must be the 'Brahe' he was bleating about before his death," the hooded figure said in a deep, echoing voice. "Pity. You were too late." The figure twirled his red blade at his side and gave it a flourish. "But don't worry. I'll send you to see him shortly. It's only what you deserve. Your blood is stained with darkness, and I've come to purify you."

The Dark Man raised his blade in a two-handed grip above his head. A posture Brahe would recognize as the figure being poised to strike. He had maybe a few seconds to think of a reaction. Otherwise, he was going to be cut down the middle by the phantom's crimson weapon. @Noctyr

 

[Lyra]

Restless, Lyra watched the mirror and the shadows trapped behind it. Her eyes lit up as the sight of two silhouettes, and their slow approach. Her parents, it had to be them. For the first time in her life, she would find out the truth, and she would find that she wasn’t alone. That she had a story to tell, and a family to make proud.

However, the pair of figures meshed into one. Her heart dropped, and when they transformed into her own pained reflection, it plunged into a pit in her stomach. She was looking at herself, and at the same time, it wasn’t. The mirror image was not the Lyra she knew, but a darker vision of her. Her hand slipped away and she retreated a few steps back, but her reflection remained.

It was alive, breathing and speaking. Lyra lost her breath, and her words died in her mouth.

“No…” said Lyra, shaking her head, the logical side of her mind desperately grappling for an answer. “You’re not real. None of this is real.”

A chill ran up her spine, then a terrible cold descended onto the room. Fog and mist swept in around her, like poisoned air. Then, to her shock, the mirror vanished, and now nothing separated Lyra and the nightmare before her.

The dark reflection suddenly ignited a red lightsaber, and Lyra stumbled back and fell to the ground. In her eyes, all she could see was red. Fear and pain and horror. As the reflection spoke, she closed them and brought her hands to her ears, hoping to block out her voice. Except she continued to speak, inside of her. A terror she couldn’t escape.

“No, you’re wrong!” she said. “NO!”

The Force erupted out of her, much like it had during her encounter with Oren on Coruscant, and the cavern room trembled. Whether or not the reflection disappeared, it didn’t matter.

Lyra was alone.

@WiffWaffs @Noctyr

 

[Brahe Sienar]

Brahe's shock upon seeing his 'master' fall to the floor, telling him of how he was too late to save him, wasn't shock out of fear or anguish, but of sheer bewilderment out of how silly this so called "dark side user" was, to taunt him so.

Because the figure disintegrating on the ground? It was NOT his master.

Brahe narrowed his eyes at the figure, drawing his lightsaber to parry the dark sider's downward swing with a two handed, horizontal, upward block. The purple blade of lightsaber #4 sprang to life as it met the crimson blade head on, before Brahe did a second upward thrust in an attempt to catch his opponent off guard, before following up with a reverse thrust to his opponent's gut. (Think a similar maneuver to the one Maul used to kill Qui Gon, except in Brahe's case, he's using a single bladed lightsaber)

"That isn't my master, ya creep!" He moved away from his opponent, drawing his blaster pistol with his right hand, his left hand still holding the lightsaber he had drawn earlier.

"And if there's one thing Master Mila taught me about my own darkness....it's that I can deal with it."

He said, steeling himself to fight even more. Brahe had gotten a lightsaber before, but he couldn't help but feel like this particular trial was stranger than usual. Usually whatever ghost haunted him....didn't usually fight. It usually just tried to get into his head. But this combat? It felt real. Very real. Even if his master was a fake one.

@WiffWaffs @Feng Mian @Malon

 

[Rizkacha]

​

The lightsaber. A Jedi's weapon, dating back to a more civilized age. Before rebellions and moon-sized space stations, the Jedi kept the peace with these tools. The physical embodiments of the force that housed perhaps its most potent weapon: the kyber crystal. A crystal charged by the very essence of a Jedi's will, and coated to a variety of colors depending on the wielder. Riz'kacha, the new owner of one of these crystals, watched as the singing crystal in her hand shifted between the stalwart blue of the Skywalkers, the wise greens of masters like Yoda and Qui-Gon Jinn, and briefly to the mysterious purple like the one in Oren Zapan's lightsaber, before it finally settled on her own color: a brilliant golden yellow.

Once it had settled, her eyes shifted to the collection of materials that were supplied to her, her hands very quickly moving to collect a collection of bronzium pieces, which she quickly fitted, screwed, and otherwise melded together to finish forging the weapon she had came to collect. With a nervous hand, a purple finger tentatively fingered the switch, and the blade hissed to life. Humming in the cave was her new weapon. The weapon of a Jedi.

Still, something didn't feel right. In her haste to prove herself, she left her companions behind and left them to their own devices. Despite the elation that came with forging her weapon, it just felt wrong, deep inside her. She looked back towards where she had come from, trying to see if the cave had somehow closed behind her. If allowed, she wanted to help them through their trials, as well. Mostly Lyra, considering how young and eager she was.

@Malon @Feng Mian @Noctyr

 

[The Storyteller]

The vision did not crumble. It seemed to drink in Lyra's anguish, becoming more solid as power poured out of her. More solid and more vicious. Lyra's reflection laughed again and twirled its red blade.

"Such a disappointment," the reflection said. Its tone was gleeful and mocking. "You think screaming and expelling the Force like some untrained child will give you the power to silence me? Foolish girl. I am you. I am you as you should be. Unrestrained by the foolish dogma of the Jedi Order. You with your anger unshackled and your fear harnessed! Look at what we could be! What you could be!" The reflection spread its arms, lightsaber and all, like dark wings. "We don't need our parents. Leave this foolish crusade behind—" Now the figure stretched its free hand towards Lyra "—and join me."

"Together," the reflection continued, "we'll let old things die. The Jedi. The Sith. Our parents. We'll reforge our destiny as we want it to be. The galaxy will be our playground and everyone in it will cater to our whims." It took its extended hand and swept it towards a rock formation where a single crystal protruded. "You can start by claiming your crystal. Take it! Teach it your pain and loneliness—our pain and loneliness! Make it bleed, and we will go out from this place together! I won't let you be alone." @Feng Mian

 

[Yoddle]

Yoddle sensed the disquiet coming from within the cave. The sun was beginning to set now. The kinrath would be coming out soon to feast. One of his students had completed her trials, but the other two were in peril. Frowning deeply, the old Jedi focused on the Force and projected his consciousness into the cave. He couldn't intervene directly, but there was someone who could.

A spectral Yoddle appeared before Rizkacha with her newly completed lightsaber. "Well done, Padawan," the old Jedi said with a twinkle in his eye. "Well done, indeed. But not quite over is your trial. Go. Young Lyra, need your help she does. Show her that a Jedi is never really alone—and quickly! Fast running out, your time is!"

And, with that, the tiny spectral Jedi Knight vanished from Lyra's sight, leaving behind him only a pathway ahead to the wayward Padawan. @WiffWaffs

 

[The Storyteller]

Brahe's lightsaber blade found its purchase in the specter's gut; but for all the good it did him. Black liquid began to seep out of the illusionary specter's nose, mouth, and eyes. It's lips curled upward in a smile.

"Deal with your darkness? My boy... You are a fool. I sense the Dark within you. You've touched it before, haven't you? You've tasted its power." The dying specter laughed. The black liquid pouring out of its mouth made its laughter throaty and gurgling. "The arrogance of youth has blinded you to the truth. You cannot deal with your darkness any more than you can contain your lust for battle. Why, just look at you — look at me! — your first reaction wasn't to disarm or maim. It was to kill."

As the specter died, chittering could be heard coming from the nearby walls. Brahe's inner darkness had woken the kinrath early and they were crawling out of their nests by the dozens, each hungry for a living snack. They covered the cave like an infestation, blocking Brahe's routes of escape.

"You're no Jedi." The specter was gone. It had vanished in the commotion, but its voice still carried through the Force. "So, there is no use sending you back to them alive." @Noctyr

 

[Rizkacha]

The apprentice watched as the image of Yoddle spoke to her, briefly reveling in their praise before nodding in affirmation. Something was off; she could feel it. It hung heavy in the air and unnerved her. Still, she had to stay strong. If not for herself, for the person she had been tasked to help, "Understood, Master Yoddle."

Almost as soon as the image of the knight disappeared, she took off running into the corridor before her, soon spotting the exposed crystal and catching the tail end of the strange specter's speech. Something was there, trying to corrupt the other padawan. She wasn't going to let it. As she stopped, she took a moment to catch her breath before letting her lightsaber ignite once more, "Lyra, don't listen to it. This is the way of the dark side- to take advantage of insecurities. To tempt those with power to try to corrupt them with the allure of answers." Still, with her blade extended, she didn't make any move to attack. If she could help it, she didn't want to resort to violence. The Force had guided her through situations so far; she didn't see a need to challenge it now.

@Malon @Feng Mian

 

[Lyra]

Lyra opened her eyes to find the dark specter of herself still there. Still watching. Her laughter was cold and terrible, and the tone of her voice alone struck a chord. The reflection’s words dug in deep, a dread that crawled into her chest to make a home. Lyra was afraid, unsure of what else she could do to dispel the vision. For all the books she read in the archives, none had warned her of this.

The Force was not what she expected. This darkness? Worse than she could have imagined.

As the reflection reached a hand out to her, Lyra felt the pull again. The same feeling when she first approached the mirror. A hidden part of her wanted to accept it, to see where it might lead, but her feelings for her parents were too strong, and the Jedi ideals too fresh in her mind. She couldn’t give into the dark. Not yet.

Lyra slowly rose from the ground. Defiantly, she told her, “No.”

Though she expected to be struck down by the lightsaber, defenseless against it, she turned to find Riz’kacha now behind her, the yellow glow of her lightsaber brilliant in the dark chamber. Her heart lifted. Her hope now restored, Lyra turned her focus back to the reflection. Without the fear, without the doubts.

She raised an open palm towards the vision. “I’m not alone.”

With the pull of the Force, she grabbed the kyber crystal and let it fly from the rock. Through the reflection and into her hand.

@Noctyr @Malon @WiffWaffs

 

[Brahe Sienar]

Brahe felt his heart sink as he sensed multiple kinrath closing in on his position, encicling and blocking off his escape routes. Gritting his teeth and looking around, he spotted a crease in the cave's rock face just large enough for him to fit in and force the kinrath into a funnel. If he couldn't escape, he could sure as hell make it difficult for them to fight through a pile of their own corpses.

Rushing over to the crevice, his back to the rock face, he drew his blaster pistol and began firing, lightsaber active in his other hand.

Fear gripped his mind like a vice, but he continued to fight, shooting at the kinrath the dared to draw near.

Hesitation and doubt at the specter's words tugged at his soul. Was it the thrill of battle that he sought? He thought about it.

No....that can't be it.

He certainly did not feel the thrill now, as prone as he was to resorting to violence. But Brahe had judged that specter to be evil. There was no room, at least in Brahe's eyes, for evil to exist. It needed to be driven from the galaxy and forced to never be able to return.

What Brahe sought thrill in....was freedom. Unshackled emotion, perhaps not the hallmark of a traditional jedi, or perhaps not even a jedi at all. Perhaps it was why he found thrill in flying?

Brahe continued to fight, but he couldn't help but ask for help in his mind.

Please....help....

His voice echoed through the force.

 

[The Storyteller]

The specter smirked as Lyra succeeded and the reflection began to fade away. "Your friends will not always be there to save you, Lyra. Someday soon... you'll have to face the truth..."

When it was gone, the chamber was revealed to be similar to the one Rizkacha had found: spacious and with a table of carved stone, furnished with everything Lyra would need to construct her Jedi weapon.

Whenever she completed her weapon, the two Jedi women would notice two paths leading out of the chamber. Through one, they could clearly sense Yoddle's warm presence in the Force. He was still outside, perched on his rock, watching the sun begin to set.

Through the other path, they would sense a cold darkness not unlike the presence of the reflection Lyra just dispelled. It was a stench that was quickly growing stronger. A feeling of impending death. @Feng Mian @WiffWaffs

 

[The Storyteller]

The kinrath hive in the cave were different from the others scattered across Dantooine. Born in the Force-rich environment that spawned kyber crystals, these kinrath had become attuned to the Force. The light side—peace, passivity, balance—soothed them and it was fair to say that they didn't pay any attention at all to those who radiated these qualities.

But the dark side—anger, aggression, violence, agitation—was an unnatural and unwelcome presence in their home. And, as they sensed the deaths of their brethren above, more poured out of the gaps in the cave and converged on Brahe until a virtual horde had assembled. Each chittering, gnashing their mandibles, and stabbing forward with their swordlike arms.

One struck at the back of his legs; another swiped for his head; another stuck the spearlike tip of its arm towards his shoulder blades. And more crowded in behind them.

The horde's overwhelming desire to avenge their hivemates clouded the Force and prevented Brahe's cries from being heard, either by Yoddle or his teammates. Instead, all they would feel was an intense mass of hunger and instinct. The desire to protect and kill,t that would waft through the caves like a cold mist, and would serve as an alert to what was happening if the other Padawans were sensing for it. @Noctyr​

​

 

[Lyra]

“Not today,” said Lyra, and then the reflection was gone.

It was right though. Someday, she would face it again, this mysterious Dark Side, and when the truth was revealed and all the cards laid bare, Lyra wasn’t sure what she’d do. The best Lyra could do now was hope that in the future, she’d be strong enough to face it alone.

She turned to Riz’kacha, thanked her, and gave a low bow. If she hadn’t arrived, Lyra doubted she’d have been able to dispel the reflection on her own. She gave her the hope she needed. Now that the kyber crystal was hers, the white shard so small and weightless in the palm of her hand, Lyra knew what she had to do next. With the open stone table before her, she examined each piece, then closed her eyes.

Hands raised, she looked back to what Oren had taught her, what Master Yoddle had said, and the last words of her adoptive grandmother, Liu Zheng. Suddenly, the parts began to float in the air. By the will of the Force, her will, she pieced together her lightsaber, and when she was finished, held it between her two hands. She pressed the switch.

Blue light burst through the darkness. Lyra smiled. The deed was done.

Though her trials were complete, there was still something wrong. A missing piece that gnawed at the back of her head. Her moment of peace was interrupted by the growing cloud of the Dark Side, which emanated from the passage opposite to her exit.

She turned to Riz’kacha and whispered, “Brahe.”

@WiffWaffs @Noctyr

 

[Rizkacha]

Riz'kacha looked a bit put off by the bow that was offered to her. Not because she didn't like Lyra or anything like that. It just felt strange to have another person appreciate her deeds for once. But at the same time, it felt nice. To do something good. To help someone out in their time of need. After a moment of staring in silence at the other apprentice, she finally offered a smile to her.

As Lyra began to construct her lightsaber, Riz'kacha clipped her own lightsaber to her belt and sat down on her knees in meditation. Despite the timely intervention on her and Yoddle's part, there was still something that felt off. Something that continued to grow. Maybe Brahe was in trouble as well.

Her suspicions were confirmed when the two paths opened up and Lyra spoke. That was all the prompting she needed, as far as she was concerned. She raised up to a standing position and began to walk, in the direction of the dark cave, "We must help him. It is not the Jedi way to leave others to their own when we can help. Do not worry about the pull of the dark. With both of us together, it will not overwhelm us." And so she continued to lead the way through the tunnel with Lyra hopefully behind her.
@Noctyr @Feng Mian @Malon

 

[Brahe Sienar]

It didn't take long before the horde's first wave got within striking distance. Dropping his blaster pistol and reaching out with his hand, Brahe used the force and sent the encroaching kinrath back with a rather weighty force push, simultaneously swiping his lightsaber in a downward blocking arc to protect his legs as he did so. As he created space from the encroaching kinrath, he adopted a Form III stance, taking a deep breath and remembering what his master had taught him.

Become the calm in the eye of the storm...

His fear still knocked at the doors of his mind, but he did his best to keep it at bay. He focused in on his inner being as he continued to defend himself, using the form to protect his body as best he could.

Come on Brahe, you can do this....Master Mi'la's lessons can't have been in vain....

His nervousness surged as more kinrath approached, but at the very least he was conserving energy through his use of an almost entirely defensive form. He gritted his teeth, the adrenaline in his body spiking out a sense of necessity in surviving this ordeal.

 

[The Storyteller]

Night was nearly at hand.

As Dantooine's sun sank and its light thinned, more kinrath emerged from their dens within the crystal cave. But the light was not entirely gone. Not yet. They still hadn't failed their trial. But, inside Brahe's chamber, it would be hard to argue that point.

Brahe's Force push had cleared a line of kinrath; but as more filled the chamber, the effort became irrelevant, serving only to anger that ones behind them. The horde converged as one on the Jedi Padawan. Their gnashing, writhing masses were certain to overwhelm him. He was, after all, only a learner, and there was only so much Form III — for all its defensive capabilities — could do with his concentration so frayed by fear.

But help was on the way. Hurried, the other Padawans would find their path to Brahe's chamber entirely clear. All of the kinrath who would have stopped them had abandoned their posts to handle the threat to their hive. But they needed to hurry. Light was fading fast. And, short of their intervention, almost nothing could save Brahe now. @WiffWaffs @Feng Mian @Noctyr

 

[Rizkacha]

It wasn't long until Riz'kacha had entered the chamber, and she had to take a moment to process what exactly was happening when she showed up. The place was absolutely swarming with hostility from the kinrath, no doubt due to Brahe's trial. And hiding within a crack in the wall was the padawan himself, his most visible feature being just the glow of his lightsaber exuding from the crack in question.

It was clear that action needed to be done, and quickly. Fighting seemed out of the question, considering the sheer volume of possible enemies. She looked to Lyra, pursing her lips slightly, "...We must not fight. It would only make matters worse. Instead, you must assist me in meditating to calm these creatures. Together, we are strong. Together, we save our fellow Jedi." Whatever the other padawan's response was, the Twi'lek bowed her head, and pressed the tips of her fingers together to focus on the aura filling the room. Little by little she worked to try to cleanse the hostility with the light, but time was waning. She would need assistance if she were to resolve things peacefully.

@Feng Mian @Noctyr @Malon

 

[Lyra]

Her footsteps echoed on the stone, the walls around her a crushing presence before she and Riz’kacha stumbled into an open chamber. The source of Brahe’s cry, and the cold feeling they had sensed. He was surrounded by starved kinrath, teeth gnashing and claws swiping for a chance to tear Brahe limb by limb. When Master Yoddle warned them about the creatures, Lyra didn’t believe him. She did now.

The Padawan raised her lightsaber, its cold shade of blue thrown over the chamber, but before she could plunge into the chaos, Riz’kacha stopped her. Lyra raised a brow.

Since the start of her journey into the cave, she had been eager. Desperate. Full of the Force but not sure how to use it. When she was confronted with the reflection, she thought brute force and raw power might dispel it. She had been wrong. What saved her was Riz’chaka. What got her the crystal, now a quiet hum in her blade, was realizing violence wasn’t the answer. It was peace. Purpose.

Lyra lowered her lightsaber, then lifted an open hand.

“Together,” she whispered in reply. She reached out into the Force and projected her will, its calming aura, like a blanket over the room. With the second Padawan by her side, Lyra wondered if it would be enough. Were Brahe to join in, however, she knew it might work.

The inscription. What Riz’cahak first said. It was all coming back to her now, and she hoped it would come back to Brahe too, because only together, through the Living Force, they could survive.

@Noctyr

 

[Brahe Sienar]

And that's when he sensed it- the others had come to help him. A smile of relief and gratitude crept across his face as he continued to defend himself from the encroaching kinrath, but the relief soon gave way to a new emotion. Solace.

Let go...

Slowly but surely, the fear washed away as he found solace in the presence of his comrades. He could sense the calm emanating from them, and a feeling of being underwater slowly overcame him as he joined in their concentration. Time seemed to slow as he took deep breaths, the hum of his lightsaber and it's movements becoming little more than the sensation of a light warmth.

Reaching out with his hands, he concentrated, adding his efforts to their own in an attempt at calming the kinrath. Memories flooded over him as he recalled the hum of his starfighter, the freedom of flying. The weightlessness of flying isolating him from the universe. A recollection of calming memories. But as he continued, the calm began to lull into drowsiness- and he began to feel the fatigue set in. He struggled to stay conscious, if only to try and continue the trial.