Why had she taken the second comms call? The first one had been a fluke - picking up her comm while watching K'raal and Shay work on the basics of saber fighting - but the second one hadn't been a fluke. She'd known and still picked the comm up.She felt like she was still losing the battle with the implants only now it was worse, because the memories most persistent were the good ones - she'd never forget the cold metal against skin but compared to so many other memories it was hard to recall it. She bit out a curse softly, stashing the training saber away and heading off into the pock-marred forest. Not even the forests of Tython had escaped bombardment, she'd discovered, stumbling across the uneven ground as she suddenly needed to put distance between her, the Temple - everything.
Her pace was nearly a run, needing to expend the energy she couldn't channel elsewhere, not safely, not when her emotions were running so high still. Could confusion be considered a raw emotion? But no, there was still that swirl of everything she'd been practicing with, tucked away politely during her call but broiling back again.
Sith. The language still flowed as naturally off her tongue, she was still was able to think in it, all of it as easy as breathing. When she'd asked Karker for another name to be called he'd offered her own moniker - book - back, not expecting her to know it. And then wonosa which had brought her sharp reply back. Freedom. The anger had led - predictably - to a sudden wave of depression that she had struggled to shrug off, the emotions building and growing until she'd been able to merely be them, not contain them.
And then, damningly, she'd told him to call later before hanging up, not expecting the Sith to take her at her word. She'd turned her focus back to the saber work, shifting into the almost familiar lines of makashi as she faced off against Shay. She did it the only way she knew how, knitting emotions together behind her blade, dropping defense to begin moving in to attacker, Shay adjusting to be the defender against her blows. Speed had started to come back and she slid between niman and makashi, Shay's sudden switch to soresu breaking her makashi-laden combat line.
She didn't use a saber because she only knew how to fight with emotions at her beck and call and that was, eternally, dangerous. Shay's question had made her stop - was she mad at Shay? For all that her relationship with Shay seemed tenuous and fraught with confusion - on her side, perhaps on both of their sides - she wasn't mad at her friend. She had doubts which were eating at her sanity but she wasn't mad at Shay. The emotions were why she said she was incompetent with a blade. Why she stuck with telekenetics, why she played mind-tricks on opponents instead of facing them with a saber. She had enough reminders of her illustrious past without recalling the lessons drilled into her as a child just old enough to hold a training saber.
She came to a stop as the ground finally evened into the slopes and twists between trees of untouched forest. The war felt distant now, the Miralukan unsure if it was the run that had set her mind at ease or something else. Maybe Dimmy was right. Maybe Sverdas was right. Maybe Shay was right. Maybe none of them were right and she had to trust in her gut. This time the jog back to the Temple's grounds did nothing to clear her mind but she shrugged into her robes again, pulled on her boots, and went back to work, turmoil and conflict marking her as she moved through the courtyard.
"Ar j'us kia tave Aeuso, Nu valia j'us nuyak vadinti."
She picked up a stone, kneeling down before, witha pause then a throw, she skipped it across one of the muddied streams running near the Temple's grounds. One, two, three, four- then it plopped into the water.
That wasn't the first time Dimmy had made a subtle offer to return to the Empire. At least this one had been a joke.
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