Myriad Reckonings

That was her room, he understood. He nodded and looked around for a moment before walking over to the small cot. It was chilly and damp, but he'd slept on worse. He would not complain about a little rest. He slowly took his staff from his back so not to raise alarm and leaned it against the wall beside the cot.

Raia departed without another word. She knew Mother and Kurra would want to speak with her, but she would be damned if she was going to make it easy for them. She stalked back to her room and laid her lance against the wall, seating herself on her cot with a heavy sigh.

Sirejj sat down, thankful for a moment's rest. His muscles were strained from the treacherous journey through the caves and tunnels, and he had much to ponder on. He must plan his next moves carefully. Though he was ahead now and was assured at least for now that he was safe here, there were still variables to consider. He wasn't even sure how much this particular group knew of Garoche's fate, but he'd heard them mention the name of the priestess Tarkin spoke of, Saro. That was a start. Her story would be the one he needed to uncover.

He had questions. The old priestess Tris seemed to be their leader. The way she had spoken suggest she knew much of the Force and its ways, even if they called it by another name. He would have to tread lightly around her. If she was as powerful as many of these Atoan holy ones had been described, she could be trouble.

Most of all his attention was drawn the one they called Stillborn. What a curious position she was in; unable to practice the ways of her mothers and sisters and resigned to fighting with her hands and what cunningness she'd learned over the years. A part of it resonated within him as many Dathomirian males were treated similarly. The resentment and anger that boiled within her made him wonder what she had seen and suffered at the hands of the Empire. Her anger may lead him to more information about the demise of the priestess and Garoche.

He suspected she would either be very useful or very troublesome, one or the other.

Raia awoke early on the second day of Sirejj's time with them. Her back and knees were sore again, and she was slow to rise. They troubled her more with each passing year, constant reminders of how time slipped ever-faster through her fingers. She needed to get up and out, away from Atoa and away from the sameness. Arlo would have wanted that for her, she was sure.

She willed herself to her feet and got dressed quickly despite the pain, taking up her lance more as a mobility aid today than an actual weapon. Then, steeling herself, she limped out of her room to check if Sirejj was ready to leave.

She had been trying to pick up bits and pieces of his words and to determine what was the language of the invaders and what was his own tongue. They were generally easy to discern, and she knew what one or two of them meant after close observation and repetition, but she was far from stringing together a sentence. It did hearten her that her mind was still sharp after so many years--she'd always had a head for languages as a child.

Raia paused outside the chamber and rapped her lance sharply on the stones near the entrance to signify her arrival.

Sirejj was awake. Though the training was mentally and physically taxing, he'd found his sleep provided little rest. Flickers of memories, both of his own and of those who had walked these halls disturbed his rest. He knew places like this which were strong in the Force often caused a troubled mind of one was not completely at peace.

Though he had learned much these past two days, in the shadows had always been lurking a coldness that he could not identify. He couldn't shake the feeling that something hung over his future. It refused to take form, but slipped through the cracks like spilled water whenever he got close to seeing it. It frustrated him to no end.

He was removed from his thoughts when he heard a sharp rapping on the wall. He sighed and stood up, making his way to the edge of the chamber. He summoned his staff to hand.

"Good morning." He said, his tone acknowledging her presence. He could feel her struggle to understand him but there was nothing he could currently do about it.

Raia recognized this as a greeting. "Good morning," she responded in her own language, being sure to mimic his tone to signify that the sentiment was the same. "You're ready to begin, I see." He kept late hours; she could usually hear him tossing and turning all the way from her room. Even so, he had been up just as early both days now. Perhaps he was having trouble adjusting to their home? She couldn't blame him; their pillows were uncomfortable and the caves got even colder at night.

Kurra was always pleased to see him awake early, at least. Raia hadn't seen her in good spirits in a long time, but this newcomer had given her something to focus her energy on. Mother, by contrast, seemed as stoic as ever. Perhaps even more than usual, come to think of it--whatever she saw in the future disturber her.

Sirejj cracked a slight smile. She understood his greeting. "Starting early again this morning?" His conversation was little more than a filler for the silence, but he liked to think she understood some of his tone. He was talking to himself more than anything.

He knew the Lady Kura would be waiting. She had been more and more eager these past days to teach him, though she was still cautious. They all were. He'd not yet reached the subject of Saro and the cathedral. He would need to begin his subtle questioning soon.

Raia responded with a half-hearted shrug; she didn't know what he was saying but his tone connoted humor. "My sister thinks you're learning fast," she said, stepping out and leading him up toward the main chamber. "She might even like you--and she never likes anyone. Count yourself lucky."

He thought he recognized the words "luck" and "sister", merely because they had appeared in spells he had memorized. He had been trying to pick up on words but their language was so different from anything he'd ever heard that it was not easy. He didn't respond, but he followed her with his staff in his hand. He had kept it close to him at all times, using it as a point of focus. It's unique properties both from what it was made of and the spells wound around it made it more than a simple tool. It had helped him greatly these past two days.

Kurra was seated in the alcove by the dreamers when they arrived in the main chamber. She stood, and Raia stepped off to the side.

"You did not sleep well," she said with a frown. "This is not the first disturbance you have experienced. Your mind ails you--will you be able to continue with our lessons, Sirejj?"