Shadows of Bankor

Daunt was on the beach, practicing his lightsabre techniques, no longer afraid of being seen with the weapon. The news of it would be out soon enough.

The elimination of the Disciple accomplished something, but decidedly not enough. He pushed the disquiet into the ferocity of his strikes.

"The weapon of the Jedi and the Sith suit you, Daunt." The voice was soft, direct. She had been watching the berserker forms from a distance as she had taken a stroll along the beach. Her head tilted up to watch him as she approached. Her boots clutched in one hand, bare feet buried into the sand.

"What troubles you?"

He doused it at her first words, then turned, watching her approach. "Where should I begin." But then a strained furrow on his forehead relaxed. "One less, actually. You're alive."

"I thrive." She stepped closer. "I have found a place on Bankor. Secret and dangerous to find, but it is mine. One day the Waters of Life will flow from it, but it is a spring that will need time to blossom."

Her eyes found his. "I am glad to see you alive, too."

He held her gaze, layer of calm over layer of anger over layer of sadness. No hope.

"So you take a wager and stay here hoping the Empire will not destroy your home again." The significance of the find was not apparent to him, he did not have her insight into the lore of their people.

"No. But a new tree will grow here, Dathomir will not be the only source of ichor, of the Water of Life. I plan on travelling. I think." She responded, the night sea breeze whipping around them.

"I have to find students. Those who wish to walk this path. The Jedi, I wager, will try to rebuild. So must the Nightcoven."

"What will your Coven be dedicated to? And among who do you hope to find them?" His body seemed impervious to the breeze, his clothing neatly fitting and his body bald. His attention was on her, entirely. These didn't seem the main words he wanted to share with her but either they were important too or he was not ready to say the more salient ones.

"The mysteries of the Force. To study it, and benefit the galaxy, and ourselves." She continued, looking at him directly. "And I will seek out those who need guidance and help. The downtrodden and those hungry for knowledge. Those who need to rise up from oppression. This is a galaxy in pain." She nodded, her hood drawn down.

She could see he was holding back, but focused. "What about you. This resistance could use your skills and talents. They will need soldiers and people to train them."

"None of those among the Resistance who are in charge have made a meaningful offer to me. Perhaps for the better, as my insubordination to bossy people riding on naive narratives would only unnerve them. They have a lot of their fancy Jedi anyway, some of them second-hand even. I am redundant. I'd stuck about their base of one-fit-all until I found my own temporary place."

He sighed. "I thought we had this conversation, Juri. I cannot find myself caring for the galaxy in pain or for the downtrodden, condemn all oppression, or to spread your teachings among those not of Dathomir. Because I am one who inflicts pain and oppresses for a living and I don't feel much commonality with those who are not from our world. It was unfair of me to criticise you, you are within your right to take your own path. But I cannot be adjunct to self-delusions that draw you further and further apart from where I think a Nightsister I'd serve should be. Our traditions were steeped in the Dark Side no less than in Light and the Empire doesn't change anything in this regard for me. Since I chose to acknowledge my connection to the Force I have tried to walk that path in between."

He released air audibly. "The person I have ever cared for was Juri. Not Juri the Healer, the Savior, the Rebel, the Good Witch, the Proselyte of some sanitised Dathomiri gospel to the galactic needy. Just Juri from Dathomir. But you no longer want to be that person because your new purpose is carrying you away to be someone larger than life. And all I ever wanted was to be myself."

The woman stopped. A slight turn of her lips, and a shake of her head. "I'm still, always will be, Juri from Dathomir. The teachings, the magic, the alchemy, all of it, lives on in me. And I can't let it die with me." The Witch sighed, and took a step closer. "It isn't larger than life. It is the flow, the nature of the Force. It's a responsibility that I can't ignore."

The Witch slowly brought her hands up, now close enough to Daunt. Taking his hands. "I never wanted a Nightbrother to serve me. I wanted a partner. An equal. What the Nightsisters, just like the Jedi, were flawed. For all that power and knowledge and our belief that our might meant right? My sisters, and all that was attached to? They burned in the jungles of Dathomir, and many have run off."

Juri's eyes sparkled, and she carried the scent of sage and spice. Fingers tightened their grip on his hands. "I'm sorry I failed to help you see yourself like I see you. You deserve more than thinking yourself a butcher."

He closed his eyes. He had rarely done that outside of sleep. "Then why does it feel that it's I who have failed you? I've been unable to feel the same flow, unable to move away from the spot I was put in. I've made decisions, important ones, and yet they amount to being where you're not. Sometimes, with some people, you can't go on a journey, Juri, because they're not going anywhere."

He bit his lip, and for a Zabrak it inadvertently meant letting blood. "Maybe I'm just too slow for you, unfit to be a partner. There's a very confused mind attached to this fearsome body. I think I've seen too little of this world with my own eyes, lost too much of my growing up to the will I don't comprehend, to be the man you've wanted to see in me."

He squeezed her hands, gently. "Maybe you're a person who can pursue greater good. With how I am, I can only choose a lesser evil. And all I can do is to stay true to that course, maybe it'll blaze some path through chaos in my head."

"Evil is evil, Daunt. To choose a lesser is still to sacrifice part of yourself." She shook her head. "The Force flows darkly around someone who can kill, and it does around you. But I've seen more than that in you. Your tenderness, your reverence for nature around us, the Living Force. You haven't not moved, your first steps are just being taken." She placed both hands around one of his, a small smile.

"My path is different than yours. I do understand that. But all roads lead to the same destination, in time. You've not failed. You simply haven't finished."

"You mean they lead to death. Death doesn't frighten me. Nor does sacrifice. After all, my existence is just a glitch in whatever pattern there is to this galaxy." He pulled her in an embraced her, for comfort, or for signalling that whatever their disagreements he didn't want them to be estranged.

The Witch shook her head. "No. Not Death. Knowledge. Understanding. You'll find it, and won't be... so confused as you think you are." She was surprised by the embrace, her hands coming up to his chest, not pushing away, but not deepening it, either.

But it was so very comfortable, and comforting, a gesture.

"You are not a glitch. You have purpose. A destiny."