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Keep Watch of My Soul

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  • Keep Watch of My Soul

    The Force was like a river that flowed into the sea, with currents that were controlled by the user. The more inexperienced, the harder the current. The harder the current, the harder it became to swim against the tide, and the more likely one was to drown in it. And Chiara was drowning. Lost in despair, unable to see her path as clearly as she once knew. For four years she'd been connected by every definition of the word, to Ressa. Wholly given over in complete oneness.

    A oneness that could not continue... if they wanted to remain separate individuals.

    The rain on Kamino pounded the ground incessantly, and silver eyes of the Echani handmaiden bore into the dark depth of the clouds, trying to search for some glimmer of light. Hope. Chiara's spirit shuddered, feeling the storm clouds gather inside of her.

    Ressa, thankfully, slept. Unaware of what was coming.

    She hadn't told her. Not everything. Not yet.

    The Kaminoan designer was ahead, standing with grace and poise. Chiara pressed forward through the rain, throwing off the wet gilded hood as she came under the awning. She locked eyes with a determined stare, acting entirely unphased by the height difference between them, standing tall and proud with her shoulders squared. "Do you have it ready?" Chiara inquired without reservation. As long as one had the credits, the Kaminoans were more than willing to oblige.

    "As ordered, and on time." was the smooth reply.

    "It has to be perfect. There can be no mistakes."

    "Yes. Yes. Come this way, I think you will be pleased with our progress."

  • #2
    The Force was like a river that flowed into the sea, with currents controlled by the user; the more experienced, the softer the current… to a certain extent. Sometimes that current was just as hard for the experienced user as it was for the novice, in terms of what the Force deemed one ready and perhaps worthy to handle, but for Ilias it was a matter of doing what it was he knew best, falling back on the foundation of what held him strong and fast to the light - faith in the will of the Force, and the gift of such a depth in his meditations to discern it.

    Such was the particular method he took to on the odd occasion that the Force deemed it necessary to present him with its influence on his dreams, or rarer still, vision broken through into daylight and his conscious mind. It had shattered what was likely his favourite tea mug on the kitchen floor, as sudden as the oncoming storm.

    Faces in a storm.

    He leaned against the counter as the storm of vision - a vision of a torrential storm - passed, as as one youngling peeked cautiously around the frame of the door, peering up at the pale-faced, freckled knight.

    “Are… are you okay, Master N?”

    He stood there, hand to head and partly over his eyes, until the little voice sounded out. Looking out from under the bottom edge of his hand, he saw a boy whom he knew to have trouble navigating the jumble of vowels and consonants that made up his surname. He gave young Leslie Nyres a small, perhaps weak smile, dropping the hand from his head and looking to the floor where the remnants of a mug and a puddle of tea sat.

    “I will be, thank you, young mister Nyres,” he replied, once again lifting his eyes to look on the boy, “Do you not have some place to be?”

    The little eyes of young Leslie Nyres went wide as saucers and he scampered off, without a doubt to catch up with his group. As for Ilias, he had a mess to clean up, archives to visit, and guidance to seek from the Force itself.


    • #3
      The room Chiara was led into was almost completely silent, except for the beeping machines that measured the vitals on the clone who looked as if she were sleeping. The door clicked shut, and a narrow ribbon of light moved across the floor from a crack under the doorway, lighting a path straight towards the silver haired young woman floating in some sort of sickly greeny-globed-goo.

      Chiara approached the vessel and peered into the mirrored face. It was an exact copy of Ressa, the handmaiden whose body she currently possessed, the girl who had seen her through so much. Chiara felt her heart begin to pound inside of her chest, her stomach churning as she began to clench and unclench her fists.

      “When will it be finished?” Chiara gulped, pushing down the emotion that roiled up inside her.

      In the past, she had felt the Force and had known it to be beautiful, flowing around her and through her. Now there was a dark and depthless void to replace the beauty. Fear. Desperation. Chiara didn’t want to disappear forever, she wanted to live and return back to the people she loved. There was a verity of possibility, that to enter back into the river of light, she would need to allow herself to dissolve entirely. It was a dark thread in her vibrant fabric, and it obscured sound judgment on her behalf. But then, perhaps it was that fear she needed to allow courage to rise up.

      Chiara determined to put on her mask of stone, lay down her roses of innocence, and conquer fate. She had to, if there was any hope of saving both their lives.

      “Another day, maybe two.”

      She nodded absent mindedly, still lost in her sea of thoughts, then asked, “Do you have a room available?”
      Last edited by Chiara Viren; 01-05-2015, 02:25 PM.


      • #4
        Four years... four years Ressa had to deceive the galaxy by keeping Chiara's fate a secret. She had no idea just how much this union would change Ressa as a person. For years now, their individual souls were merging as one, and while they retained some of what they were, they knew that, soon, something had to be said. Something had to be done to change their circumstance. Four years ago, Ressa's intention to save Chiara from death was an act of bravery on her part, an act that had good intentions, even if Chiara was barely considered more than a child in Ressa's eyes at the time. What she didn't realize was just how much of a sacrifice on herself this would be. She'd saved Chiara's soul, but at great cost to herself. Compromise was not something Ressa dealt with well, given her upbringing, but she had little choice in the matter. If they were to coexist, Ressa had to give up her tightly wound need for control of her life. It took her nearly a year before she accepted it fully and now, perhaps Ressa had begun to accept her fate...that she would never be the same person she once was.

        There was one thing that frightened her just as much as it frightened Chiara. Ressa was aware that their consciousness was beginning to merge into one. A mixture of memories confused the Echani as she remembered her life on Charny, yet at the same time was 'remembering her time with the Jedi'. Ressa initially dismissed this, but she could not ignore it. She saw pictures in her head. Chiara's friends, Chiara's family. Memories of a little girl that loved her like a big sister. How much hurt was that little blonde child going through knowing her 'big sister' was gone?

        Ressa had tried... she tried so hard to find ways to separate their souls so she could go home but came up with nothing. The silver-haired young woman was feeling as despondent as Chiara and at a loss of what to do about it. It hurt her more than Chiara thought and with their souls beginning to merge as one, Ressa knew they had very little time left before something new became of them, yet Ressa did not know what she could do...

        For the past few days, Ressa had allowed Chiara to roam, giving her control of her body and only taking back control when something serious and threatening came up, such was her protective nature, but nothing could've prepared her for when she awoke. Looking through her eyes, Ressa was horrified to see a mirror image of herself. In fact it terrified her to a degree. What was the meaning of this? A clone of herself? What was Chiara planning to do?

        "What in the...? What's going on?" was all Ressa said. She was shocked, angry even. How could Chiara have kept this from her...and why did she not see this coming sooner?

        Sigs by me and Ala (Thank ya Ala! )


        • #5
          Visions were rare enough, so when they came they were given close scrutiny, careful attention. It seemed to make sense to the healer that when presented with a location he did not recognize in the sight, that mulling over and meditating on galactic maps would help him pinpoint the where. The face was easy enough, the records of each learner that had walked these halls just as up-to-date in his mind as it was in the record system...

          Kamino. Chiara Viren.

          ...which left him blinking, somewhat confused - confused enough to go to the physical record and upon cross-checking? Yes, she was deceased, as he thought. Then why...? The circumstances surrounding her death had not reached a resolution of acceptance, but rather, a mystery had been left behind. There'd been no body, no remains to be found and she had been much too young in the Force that realistically the chances of her becoming one with the all-encompassing were barely even slim, and largely none at all. Perhaps that was it.

          Perhaps the time for resolution was at hand.


          One day later...

          A holopic and a heavy poncho was all he brought with him apart from the usual - himself, clothed in the robes of a JEdi, and on his person the tools of the Jedi - for whatever it was that the Force had seen fit to bring him to this world for, during what appeared to be monsoon season. Oh, he had no complaints towards the weather, but it was simply one more thing to contend with as he set about his investigations.

          He had learned that the Kaminoans were galactic experts in cloning before leaving for this place, and while that was a possible piece to the puzzle, it wasn’t the sole consideration. So he asked around, showing the holopic of the red-haired young girl, asking if she had been seen - it was a long shot in most avenues, and asking about a girl that was more than likely still deceased was garnering no leads. So the next pertinent questions would be asked - had anything unusual happened as of late? Were there any strange customers, outside-of-the-norm customers? ‘Strange’ was a very broad net to cast, he knew.

          They would have to look into it, that was the answer he was given. With that, he left them with his contact information and went to tour the facilities as he waited, yet continued to confer with the Force in the back of his mind as he went, feeling outward for anything that the Kaminoans could not divine or discern, while looking on in muted fascination. He’d never seen the cloning process first-hand, before.


          • #6
            The inner self of the body she cohabitated, reared herself upward and forced Chiara’s essence backward. “There’s no running away anymore, Ressa.” By now, whatever Chiara thought, Ressa knew. Their mind’s were starting to stitch themselves together, and the soul threads were pulling tighter and tighter. Together, they had traveled down what at time’s seemed an endless road, fruitlessly searching for clues or answers. In reality, the truth had already presented itself, but neither contained the steadiness to face the demanding situation head on. Now it was here.

            Her conscious presence felt the anger and fury roll through Ressa, and by every right, she should be angry. Chiara tried to manage the roaring waves in a composed and calm approach, attempting to hide the ache. “May we speak outside? Uninhibited by watchful eyes?” Chiara prodded softly, highly conscious of the fact that they entertained a small audience.

            The confrontation was long overdue, but she waited until Ressa crossed to the outside room to address it.

            “I believe you understand, that we can’t continue as we have without running the risk of becoming a different being of our own making. Good, or bad." She allowed room for Ressa to speak freely before continuing. "I discovered a solution,” a pause, Chiara had welcomed Ressa's ire on the matter and felt the penalty for going behind her back,“...I apologize for my deception...I was unsure how to tell you.” In that apology was Chiara, the person she had been, but someone who was losing a battle of will. A lapse, maybe? Some remnant of light had touched her faintly and the familiarity warmed her.
            Last edited by Chiara Viren; 01-17-2015, 02:03 PM.