Session export: Immortal Concern

Marick arrived thirty minutes early, so she did not need to wait all that long on her own. He was not in his formal Exarch robes.

He wore plain clothes, by comparison. A simple tunic, pants, and his gray Shaed cloak. The hood was down, and other than the lightsaber on his hip, he seemed to not be heavily armed.

He knew that sometimes his approaches could be hard for people to hear. Old habbits died hard for the retired Assassin. So he tried to intentionally make his footsteps louder, stepping on a few twigs to make a crunch. He approached her, hands folded behind his back, face an unreadable but calmly stoic mask.

His eyes, however, were not cold. There was a concern in them- one that he seemed unable to turn off when it came to people close to him or that he cared about. He wanted to help, to protect them, but knew that sometimes there was only so much he could do. It had gotten worse with Weyne and Turi being born so close together…more for him to protect. Perhaps he was getting soft.

“Princess Sagitta,” Marick greeted Sofila, his monotonous voice low and lilting. “Kirra said to make sure you were getting enough sun on your cheeks,‘” he shared his seven-year-old daughters concerned wisdom as a means of starting the conversation.

Sofila heard her name as she turned to face Marick with a small smile.

“Hey.” Then her expression changed to guilt when he had brought up Kirra.

Another kid I karking failed. She hasn’t been babysitting like she used to. Or even vising the orphanage anymore.

“I’m sorry for not babysitting as much anymore, I am just-” Sofila frowned, her brows furrowed and creased as she glanced back to the water.

“Not safe to be around anymore.” She slid off the rock and exhaled softly. Her arms crossed as she was really uncomfortable to what she was about to say.

“I…. want to train on mental fortitude.”

Marick actually frowned, the emote very clear on his usually emotionless face. “Sofila. Kirra has fifty aunts and uncles-by her own selection-and we have no shortage of coverage. You’re fine,” he explained.

As he studied her, listened to her, he started to understand the deeper meaning beneath her words and request. “Of course I’ll help you.”

There was no judgement in those words. He knew she only wanted one specific thing from him, but he knew it was important that people knew that it was okay to ask for help. He had learned that, and the price of being alone. How much of his life had he pushed others away. To protect them.

He had been wrong. But it was not so easy to just say the words and expect them to be true.

“But first, I’m going to need you to be…honest with me when I ask questions. You can obfuscate, but I’ll likely know. It might get uncomfortable, but part of learning to be strong is understanding that weakness is not something you erase- it’s something you learn to layer on top of as you grow.”

Marick moved to sit under the shade of a tree. He folded his legs, criss-crossed, and rested his arms on his knees. He gestured at the space before him, but did not seem to rush or expect any impetus. He sat patient as a stone.

Sofila’s heart was still twisted with guilt. She hasn’t been doing much. Seeing the kids. Hanging out with friends. Kark, she doesn’t even remember the last time she swam since Cole’s birthday when they went to escape on a cottage by the beach for a few days.

Her jaw tightened and she had the sense to forget about this. Part of her wanted to turn around and walk way.

But it might mean she’ll lose Cole.

With a deep and heavily sigh, “Yea. That’s fair.” If he wanted to ask questions so be it. She was already not loking forward to the uncomfortableness of the whole mind thing, she hated the Force for a reason. She made her way over and sat down in front of Marick, her legs also criss-crossed.

Marick nodded, bowing his head politely in a sign of thanks. “I don’t need the Force to know the stone you’re carrying is heavy. So. Do you want to talk about Scimitar first, and the latest mission?”

He had reviewed the reports and briefings and cross references the accounts personally. But he wanted to hear it from her, here. It was also likely safe ground to start on.

Sofila quickly felt defensive. The hairs of the back of her neck and arms stood. It almost felt like she was on trail here.

“Do I even have a choice?” Sofila snapped at him, glaring. Why does he even want to hear it from her? What the kark? He could read the kriffing reports which may have mentioned how many times she had failed.

She winced as she looked away.

“Sorry,” she said rather quickly as she glanced down towards the grass.

“It was a mission. It was at a house grew up in long time ago. Had some powerful droids, a few of us fell for some of the Force Mind stuffs, we found out The Father was the one that actually stabbed Scimitar long ago and made him what he is now. We found Kerissa and –” Sofila stopped as she frowned. She shook her head.

“I healed her and we got out. Zxyl was under orders to take the amulet to the karking council for ‘research’ purposes.”

“Your posture,” he gestured at her. “You went rigid the second that I asked the question. If you want to strengthen your mind, you have to learn to take questions like they are punches. And just like a more tangible fight, taking a punch is more valuable than throwing one,” he replied calmly.

“Sofila, I’m not going to touch your mind. We are just going to talk. You are safe here,” he gestured around the forest. The quiet. The only disturbance the nature of birds and the flow of running water of the creek. “Nothing will hurt you here. And you will not be able to hurt me.”

As he said the last word, Sofila would have felt something through the Force. Nothing so direct as a probe on her mind. Marick was too respectful for that, and also lacked the talent for it like his brother and others. But when he lowered his voice, and added his Intent behind his words, there was an immutable sensse of gravity to them.

Sofila knew in that moment that while he looked calm and steady, Marick’s guarded aura leaked out. The man before her had killed more beings than Sofila could fathom. Troops sent to their death under his command. The light of a woman and her child’s eyes being drained away by a shadowy dagger in his hand. A crippling weight of responsibility of the countless field agents. Betrayals of his own family, his Clan. The loss of the one thing, the one person that had kept him feeling human. Death, destruction, sorrow.

~~Emotion is weakness~~ Life before death ~~When we take a life, we take nothing of value…~~

Competing ideals. Two diametric concepts at war, but bottled up and contained into a single container of a man.

This was the Brotherhood’s Gray Fang. once the Ghost of Port Ov'al. And now, an acknowledged Force Lord, recognized for his power by the Grand Master themself.

In that moment, she could believe that his reputation was earned with blood and sweat, not fortune.

His aura lightened, quickly as it had arrived, quicker than a blink. His eyes remained a deep intense blue, but his face was a tranquil mask of neutrality.

“The Regents whims are above my station as Exarch,” he admitted. “But I am being kept appraised by my sources.”

He then went quiet, waiting to see if there was anything else she wanted to add about the mission.

Sofila scowled when he brought up her posture. Before she could even say anything in regards to that, Marick continued and with that last word Sofila flinched by the overwhelming feeling.

He was powerful. That was nothing new. A twinge of jealously erupted from her. What? She never was bothered with the idea of people being stronger than her, that happens-

And she had a feeling that the reason why she was angry with this whole situation wasn’t because of the situation. She doesn’t even know why but she felt like she needed to get out.

Run.

He was dangerous. Even Sofila was confused by this feeling. She said nothing for awhile while he brought up that Regent’s orders were above him. Her jaw was tight.

“Kark you, Marick,” Sofila started, rage forming, “Yes, I went rigid. I have emotions. I don’t want to be you or Cole for that matter. I do want to strengthen my mind but if it meant that I have to stop showing my emotions, then I should leave.”

Marick didn’t so much as blink. He just listened, and then replied.

“Good,” he said, with an approving nod. “That was much more honest than your first attempt.”

Sofila looked taken back and then frowned. She closed her eyelids and exhaled sharply, annoyed.

“What the kark was even the first attempt?”

Marick offered a faint ghost of a smile. “I didn’t need a recap of the mission, I wanted to know what about the mission was weighing on you. I want you to be honest with me. I do not want you to hide your emotions, or feel you can’t express yourself.”

He thought for a moment, pensive. “Emotion is not weakness. Emotion is…strength. It took me far too long to learn this. So no, I do not want you to be Cole. Or me. I want you to be yourself. And if you can do that, I can help you achieve your goal.”

“Emotion is what drives you, Sofila. It is your true power. Not the Force, not your muscles, not your connection to your family and your obligations. Your emotions are also not just a cudgel. They are a shield you can hone.”

Sofila glared at him. She was… surprised. He was a first one, in a long time since her buirs, Foxen, Asani, and many others that had mentioned that emotion was a strength.

She stopped believing that since the day she was stabbed and possessed.

It kept harming more than do any good. She barely feels any other emotions anymore besides rage and the creeping darkness.

“Funny. Many others would disagree with you.”

Do not tell him. Sofila locked up. She had a nagging feeling not to tell him to why the missions had been bothering her. The weight of it all.

“You get a recap. Pick something else.”

“Plenty of people disagree with me,” he replied calmly. “I’ve also watched my closest friend kill my Cythraul behind my back, then try to blame it on another so that I would direct my ire at them, focus, instead of risking the mission or questioning our orders.”

There was no emotion on his face as he spoke. His eyes, however, were getting worse at hiding things. A side effect of letting go over the years. The pain was there, but it was controlled. Seemed to fuel his resolve to keep sharing with her. To not back down from her.

To not give her the easy out.

He continued speaking, all of it matter of fact, never breaking eye contact with the Mirilan.

“My own father currently sits in Dusk Station. Where he will never hurt another person, never dominate another mind and control them. He overwrote Zig’s mind. And got her to kill Alaisy’s droid- the one thing she cared for. He locked me away so that I missed the birth of my daughter. Tried to take her from me.”

He didn’t shift or move, still looking calm and settled in his sitting position. The wind blew strands of ashen hair across his face.

“I knew it was dangerous to send you after Scimatar again. But like I’ve done with Lottson…others. I’m trying to let you all walk your own paths. But now, something is wrong, and the people I care about are hurting and now I am here. And I am not going to go away.”

He exhaled slowly, closed his eyes, then opened them again. “So, no, I won’t ‘pick something else’. What happened when you were healing Kerissa. Let me help you.”

There was a plea in his that last line. But it was hidden behind the cold resolve that Marick had wielded every waking moment of his adult life, since escaping Hapes and landing at the Shadow Academy with nothing more than the rags on his shoulders.

She listened.

She didn’t want to but she did. She felt so bad. They tried to take away his baby. They killed his friend, a cythraul. A betrayal. He… he really wants to help her.

No. He must not know.

Why the kark not?

She got up and started pacing.

“No. I-” She huffed.

“Every karking night, I wake up screaming because he’s right there. Scimitar is as real as you are standing in front of me. It got to the point where I don’t even know what is reality or what is real. If Cole wasn’t there-” She winced, not wanting to know the answer to that. Cole and herself hasn’t had any good sleep in a long time.

Though she would argue the man never had good sleep in the first karking place.

“Scimitar’s home felt like my home. I felt comfort. Safe. Welcomed. Not only that, Savi and Cole couldn’t even touch Kerissa. There was Sith Alchemy of some sorts. I saw Savi, themselves, reached out and the Force barred her. But I got to touch her and heal her.”

Her nails dug into her forearm, the fabric noises was obvious. Then she realized as she stopped and frowned at the small rips she had made through the fabric.

“Kark.”

Marick did blink once as he processed. He didn’t reach out for her. Not immediately. Once she swore, he knew it was likely safe. He leaned forward and gently touched her shoulder. The Force flowed from him like quicksilver, but it wasn’t aggressive. It washed over her, very subtly, and the mild pinch of her own nails was soothed over.

While Marick was a killing machine, he had spent a lot of time learning and living with one of the best healers in the Brotherhood.

“I know,” was all he said.

Before she could even stop him, his Force flowed and washed over her and she felt sick to her stomach. The darkness in her rejected it as she gagged, her shoulder forcibly pulled back as she looked ill. She could feel the rage over him trying to- Wait, what the kark was that?

“Don’t do that again-” Sofila snarled, her hand over her chest. She felt sick. She rubbed her chest a few times as she remembered the feeling of being stabbed, again, back at the mansion in their previous mission. Her pink hues glared at Marick with anger.

“Know what?” She snapped at Marick in confusion and anger.

He studied her reaction, but remained calm and collected. There was no offense taken by her snapping at him. He was glad that that part of trying to help was easy for him. The next part was where he was out of his depth. But he was going to try.

Her body reacted unusually to his light healing. That was a clue to something bigger. But it escaped him. So he focused on what he did know, and could do.

“Manipulation is very rarely convenient,” he answers her, focusing first on the later confession. “But the best at design things to lower your guard by wrapping your survival reflexes with the familiar instead of threats. This actually is an example of how, perhaps, you can use your emotions to counter this scenario in the future,” he mused.

“And I know that you see him. Feel him. That he is real. I have stood at the side of multiple Dark Lords of the Sith. This isn’t the first time we’ve seen…lingering interference at the hands at echoes of the Sith Empire.”

He locked eyes with her. “You’re not crazy, Sofila. I believe you. And I’m going to help you.”

Sofila winced at the word manipulation. And she was becoming more and more confused as Marick kept talking.

Then there it was.

“Lingering?” Sofila had started to laugh, he had to be joking. But then she stopped.

Marick doesn’t joke.

“There is nothing ling-” She frowned, her brows furrowed.

Marick just looked at her flatly. Considering he was keeping his face stoic, the lowering of his eye lids was like a giant exclamation mark of an emote.

Sofila shook her head, her anger rising again. No. He was wrong. It can’t be. No.

No.

“You’re wrong.” She said flatly and then scoffed.

“You were suppose to help me with mental fortitude but instead you are trying to send me on a wild porg chase.”

“Porgs aren’t that hard to catch,” Marick replied, not apparently missing the metaphor.

He shrugged once. “Maybe I am wrong. But you clearly don’t trust yourself. And if you lie to yourself… I’m not sure if teaching you to defend your mind will work in the long term.”

He saw he was losing her and not doing a great job.

“So, I can sell you snake oil, or you can trust me, and let me help you.”

Sofila flinched at his words as if she got slapped in the face. She glared at him with harden jaw. She wasn’t lying to herself.

He was just–

He’s wrong. Had to be. She was stuck. She didn’t want to lose Cole and she knew if she leave now, she would lose him. And Marick, being the Exarch, was perfectly capable to make sure Sofila doesn’t go on the final mission to find Scimitar and end him once for all.

She threw her hands up.

“Fine.” She doesn’t even know what he has in mind.

“I also know you are struggling interpersonally. And while I’m not an expert, I know a thing or two about being alone. So…we can also talk about that.

He kind of already knew her answer, but was just making sure.

"So. Let’s say that someone were to lose control of their actions,” he began. “Everyone’s mental defenses work differently. Cole, for example, Id tell to clear his mind. But for someone that is…as vibrant as yourself, a zen-approach might not actually be helpful. It’s too…against your own nature.”

“ In autistic engineering, so it’s been explained to me at least, when you want to cancel our a noise, you need to reverse-phase it to cancel it out. You do this by sending the same frequency back against it.”

He mimed the gesture of air waves with his hands, and a few small pebbles from the creek lifted up telekenetically and mirrored the motions.

“So when you feel anger that…might not be your own. Or you feel you are going to lose control…don’t resist or fight it. Just send it back”

“Then, instead of anger, think of all the things that fuel you. That bring you joy. Wrap that around yourself, coil it, and embrace it. Laughing, fighting, kark..er…karking…” he actually stumbled a bit at that last part.

He did not blush, but there was a very obvious moment of pause where he realized what he said might have-as Evelyn would have put it- not proper. He cleared his throat.

“Passion is power. One that Sith claim to understand. But they don’t.” He made a dismissive gesture with one hand. “They see passion as a means of control. But passion is the fuel that drives us, and only we get to control it.”

Before the lecture, Marick had brought up about being ‘alone’. Her throat choked up but she said nothing. She doubt that talking about feeling alone would even karking work.

Sofila listened and tried to make sense of it but guilt, shame, and anger was all she could feel right now. Joy? Laughing? It had been months. It didn’t help when Marick had brought up karking and she bitterly looked away.

She doesn’t even remember when was the last time they karked anymore. Or when he touched her like that. She had tried initiate it a few times but- her arms crossed for her to avoid scratching her forearm’s skin off.

Kark. I’m going to lose him. She cleared her throat and shifted her weight on her feet. Fear went down her spine and engulfed her heart.

“I’ll try.” There was no point trying it now, she couldn’t even bring up anything good at the moment. She looked back over to Marick, her eyes and expression completely exhausted.

“Do or do not,” Marick recited. “There is no try.” He furrowed his brow at the words. “Someone quoted that at me once. I’m pretty sure I threw a dagger at them without looking and missed the space between his legs by a fraction of an inch.” He shrugged. “Things in life as rarely as simple as ‘I’ll try’, but there is truth in the fact that if you don’t do anything, you never get anywhere.”

He didn’t need to read minds or understand emotions to know his words were not helping her. He knew going in there was no silver bullet he could give her. But he didn’t think he’d do this bad at helping. She didn’t say the words out loud, but her emotions were quite clear on her face. Maybe others might have been distracted by her scars, her beauty, her other features, but Marick was simply watching for smaller details.

“You haven’t been able to feel any of that though, have you. That’s why you are scared. You’re worried you’re going to lose the things you love. Worse, you worry that means you’ll be alone.”

“From a battle intelligence point of view, the answer is to…cut yourself off before it can hurt you. You think people will be better off or safe without you.” He said it more as a question than a statement, trying desperately, despite looking completely calm, to find something.

“I… trust me Sofila. It’s wrong. No one is ever truly gone, and we never are alone. Not here.” He seemed to make a broad gesture to signify Arcona, the Armis that were here, Selen, Ol'val, Dajorra, their friends and family.

“I don’t think I have the skill or training to help with what might be going on with you and Farrow. I can listen if you want, but what I do know is he’s similar to me in a few ways. So I can tell you that he still loves you, and always likely will. But it’s hard for people like him–us to watch the people we care about spiral, not because we want to control them, but because they worry they might make it worse.”

Sofila was getting irritated. “I said try because-” But he figured it out. Because she hasn’t been feeling that in karking months. And it breaks her each passing day.

“I don’t want to cut them off! I don’t want to be alone!” Sofila yelled.

“Every karking time I am with them, I try to have a good time but then kriffing something happens and I lose my temper, they distant themselves from me. And there had been a few occasions where Force was involved.” There was no telling how many objects she had broken at their apartment. Or her office. Thankfully, she was alone with the office.

She couldn’t blame Cole if he left. She was even scared that when she gets home this evening, he would be gone.

And she wouldn’t hate him for it. She’s dangerous. Wild.

All because of some karking echo of Scimitar? Kriff. The urge to somehow find where the amulet was, defy the council, risk being charged for treason, and breaking it so they could finally find Scimitar and kill him. Her hands were clenched in fists. She immediately turned around, her back facing Marick, she was losing focus-

“Kark!” Sofila yelped in rage as a rock went from the ground and there was an audible splash in the water. She just want everything to back where it was before the possession. When she was very social and didn’t have an angry bone in her body.

She scoffed sarcastically.

Marick didn’t react or move as she let her anger flow. He did stand, though, and let his arms fold behind his back.

“I know you don’t want to cut anyone off. But that means you’re going to have to accept a few ugly truths in order to face this. You said that the sudden shifts and irregular behavior are what push Farrow away? That’s probably true on the surface. What he’s likey more pushing away from is that you are lying to yourself. He knows all about that.”

His voice remained the same calm steady volume despite the cadence of his words. “If something is affecting you. The first step is to understand that this is not your fault. The second…we look into someone that can help remove the variable altogether. Isolate the root, sever it. Since I doubt I can do that myself, we can focus on what we can actually do to improve your control.”

His feet did not shift.

“You want me to teach you mental fortitude? It doesn’t happen over night. It doesn’t happen over months, or a year. It’s a technique, a discipline you develop not from reading or studying or practicing but but doing it. There is no quick fix. But never once have I yet to say I will not help you.”

“Time moves us all forward, no matter how much you want it not to. Time is true enemy and entropy it’s weapon. Things will never go back to how they were. But that doesn’t mean we can’t make things better.”

“Kark you mean I am lying to myse- Wait, about Scimitar’s echo?” She grimaced. No. It just can’t be. She doesn’t want this. Or any of it.

Not your fault.

The people she had hurt suggested otherwise. Even if she apparently had a karking echo of Scimitar in her causing her anger and desire to hurt people, she does need to learn to redirect it.

“I know that. I know it’s not overnight.” Sofila responded, turned to look at him.

“I didn’t get to physically take down people overnight. Give me some karking credit.” She exhaled sharply. Her hand rose as she brushed her curly purple hair back for a moment.

“I would like that.” Sofila said softly when he brought up about making things better.

Marick pointed at his chest. “I’ve killed thousands. No matter how much I scrub and scrub my hands will never be clean. There is a ledger in the Living Force I’ll likely never balance. But I’ve faced that demon. I stare at it everyday. The key is to remember what you have not what you might lose. Kirra, Weyne, Wyn, Atyiru. My family. They are not my weakness, but my strength.”

He inhaled slowly through his nose, then exhaled slowly through his lips. “I know you’ve worked hard to hone your combat prowess. So If I repeat things you already know…I need you to just trust me because, fundamentals are more important than anything else.”

“The first step to mastering your own mind is control. And all control of your body comes from breathing. Try it. This is not meditation. I don’t need you to clear you mind or visualize anything. Focus on your body. You know your body better than anyone. In through your nose, control the exhale through your lips. Repeat.”

He did the same thing. It looked boring, most likely. Kirra would have said as much. But if there was any being in Sofila’s life that could remain in control during the chaos of war and strife, it was Marick Tyris Arconae.

Sofila stared. They both had kill. She was no stranger to killing. She argued with Buir for years for her to finally take on a killing mission. Which she did at eighteen despite Wulfram being against it but she was, legally, an adult at the time.

Then there had been a few missions in between. Once she hit twenty, Buir had back off and she took up more. She even participated in war the moment she joined Arcona which was a few weeks after if she remembered right. Or was it a couple of months? No matter.

“Maybe you should talk to Cole.” Sofila pointed out, sounding a bit hurt. She put that aside as she listened. Oh. Breathing. That was easy enough. It was one of the first things that Cole had taught her how to do after the first mission.

And she had used it more than she would liked.

With a slow deep inhale through the nose, the exhale was always longer than the inhale and her lips were barely open as the air pushed out. One by one she focused on her muscles. It’s what she also do before she tries to sleep. First, the pinky toe of her feet. Then all the toes, slowly working her way up.

“Ground yourself. Feel the earth beneath your feet,” Marick spoke, taking his hands and moving them in a slow circle until his palms were pressed up against each other. He lowered his hands. “Breathe.”

He relaxed his posture. “Control of the body helps control of the mind. I can show you the Sliding Hands stretches I do each morning, but you’ll have to keep up with them. No exceptions.”

“And yes, I can talk to Farrow, if you want. But first….”

A rock from the creek lifted up, and darted at her from behind, aiming between her shoulder blades.

Sofila frowned for a moment as she was still breathing. Cole would not like that. Maybe she should’ve kept her mouth shut.

“I don’t think he would- WHA-” Sofila yelped as the Force yelled at her to move but obviously, she didn’t get to dodge in time as it hit her in the shoulder as she winced.

“What the kark?”

“Breath. Center yourself. Focus.” Marick repeated. He wasn’t making any motions with his hands. He just kept his palms together, and seemed to be talking, breathing, and staying calm.

His mind, meanwhile found more stones and used them as new projectiles from different directions.

“Some kriffing warning would be-” Sofila quickly rolled, ducked, and side flipped. She hastily huffed to blow her hair out of her face.

“My body isn’t the problem, Marick, in case you haven’t noticed.” Sofila grumbled as she stood up, her hand on her hip while her eyes glanced at her surroundings for more rocks. She was not counting on dodging rocks today, she would’ve worn better clothes for this.

“You think Scimitar cares?” Marick replied calmly. “You think he’ll only go after your mind? Body and mind are two sides of the same coin. Harmony. Balance.”

“Center yourself. Breathe in, breathe out. Focus Feel the ground beneath your feet. The sky above. Listen to the wind, the creek. Focus on what you know is true. That is your reality. That is your shield against attacks: both phyiscal and mental.”

This time, no attacks came here way. That she could see at least.

Sofila scoffed. Scimitar doesn’t care, that was true. But if it was up to her and she learned her enemies, she would make sure to find ways to target their weakness.

And hers?

Her mind.

Sofila scoffed at Marick for a moment, but realized, he may be speaking some truth. Man had been through a lot. With a soft grumble, she crossed her arms, her head still turning to check her surroundings.

How the kark was she suppose to ‘feel’ everything when he’s throwing stones at her?

Calm down. She reminded herself. She was here to improve. And she needed to. Fast.

“Fine.” She said with some snarkiness behind it as she stopped looking around and tried to focus.

While she was thinking and just as she replied, Marick let a ripple of the Force release from him. The wave hit Sofila like a gentle breeze, but when it passed, she felt her muscles feel heavier, as if she couldn’t move unless she really tried. And if she did, it would be a sluggish movement at best.

Sofila tried to take a step but it was so hard. Like she was restrained and it was moving slowly. Fear and panic went through her faster than she can even think.

No no no no! Sofila mentally yelled. She tried to fight against it, move move, just move! Her eyes widened and her hairs were standing on all ends. Her heart beat widely against her chest, as she felt like she was going to vomit.

She needed to fight back, she called for the Force to aid her-

Nothing. Anger rapidly followed in no time at all as she could feel her muscles burn and the rage took over. She still moved slowly but she-

“Stop!” Sofila yelled.

“Don’t fight against it. Lean into it. Breathe. Control. Take your anger. Embrace it, and then throw it back!”

Maricks voice cracked like a whip. It was such a stark departure from his usual calm, low monotone that he might as well have screamed at her.

But he kept eye contact with her.

“It’s your power. Not his. Not anyone’s. Control it, Sofila!”

Her body, she doesn’t have control over her body. Memories from her past started to threaten to flood but she was fighting so hard to keep them at bay.* Not now. Anything but now -please* Sofila mentally begged.

The whip of his voice helped stilled her mind for a moment and she did that. A soft whimper escaped from her lips, she felt like she was being choked. Her chest hurts. It was so hot, burning such as-

Sofila winced when the side of her face started to feel like it was burning as it did long ago-

Enough. With another woosh of the Force, this time not covered in darkness, the hold Marick had on her was gone.

Then it all stopped. She panted as she fell to the grass, her hands feeling the cool blades between her fingers.

“Kark…” Sofila murmured as she grimaced, her head leaning forward to touch her arm.

Marick didn’t move towards her, staying put where he was. He lowered his hands, though. “I’m sorry,” he said quietly.

Sofila hated it. Everything about it. Her body was hers. Who the kark was he to-

I asked him for help. She reminded herself as her teeth gritted. She heard his apology and her head shook, purple hair spilled over with from gravity.

“Don’t you karking dare to apologize.” She finally understood. The anger and rage she felt when someone took control of her mind was the same as her body. She coughed a couple of times as she finally moved to sit on the ground.

She said nothing. Her eyes stared at the ground before her.

Marick padded silently over to her. He knelt slightly, and offered a hand. But he did not take her hand or touch her. “Body and mind,” he repeated.

Sofila stared at his hand for a moment. She still doesn’t get it. Will her waking up to see Scimitar right in front of her karking face finally stop? How does it even-

She bit her cheek to quiet her mind. Her hand rose as she grasped it and stood. She released her grip as her hand went back to her side.

“I… get it but I don’t? I just-” Sofila frowned. She hated the Force, always but it did aid her when she needed it.

“I just really hate the kriffing Force…” Sofila murmured softly.

Marick nodded once. “It’s difficult to hold two seemingly diametrically opposed concepts at the same time, in your mind.” It was what he’d trained his entire life to do. “Repetition helps. There’s exercises we can do…but you would need to do it a few times a day. Which I know is hard with everything else that is being thrown your way. Perhaps Cole could help.”

He knew her answer to that, and tried to get ahead of it. “I don’t know a lot about relationships. Mine found me, and there wasn’t much say I had in it. I was hers, and that was that. When I lost her, I lost myself. I became an empty container for revenge and my mission. But when I let all of that go, and was able to prusue on my own…I found the answer ot bring her back. But I was lucky and not everyone gets that chance.

"But what I know about Farrow. If you tell him the truth. If you tell him what you’re trying to work on, and that you need his help. He will understand. It won’t fix things immediately. But he will understand. And he will appreciate the efforts and lengths you’re going through to be okay. He’s pulling away because he’s worried.”

He folded his arms back behind his back, shifting from foot to foot. He settled as he shifted back to what he hoped he was more knowledgeable in.

“Being an Arcanist means looking at the Force from a different perspective. We are all taught, fundamentally, that there are two sides to the Force: dark and light. But the Force is not so simple or binary. It is the thread that connects all living things, and there are many shades of gray that permeate it. And when we look at it through that lens…the Force is just another tool. It’s neither good or bad. It simply is.”

He frowned slightly. “I do not think you hate the Force. I think you hate that complexity it represents. But this is why I have shifted my Discipline from how it used to be. And through it, I have grown more powerful.”

Sofila frowned and before she would interject about Cole helping he added more.

“How can Cole help with this?” Sofila asked. He wasn’t a Force User. He doesn’t have means to halt her body with abilities or get into her mind. She was still scared of everything. Cole knows that she’s here, she told him before she left and that she’ll try but…

Sofila was not ready to inform Cole that apparently she has an echo of Scimitar in her. Her jaw tightened. Kark.

Then she scowled when the conversation about the Force came up.

“I had considered serving myself away from it. But with how much I had to heal… and use barrier, I cannot.” She crossed her arms and was starting to become uncomfortable.

“What are the exercises?” She wanted to ask before she forget.

Marick considered, and offered for her to sit. “These are exercises Cole can help with…no Force needed. They are meant to focus on your mental alacrity. They’re the…foundation to a lot of my training. I can show you a few options.”

“I still suggest we talk to someone who…could help with possibly erasing the echo of Scimtar. We’d need my wife for that, though. And likely Kirra…”

Despite being only seven, Kirra’s unique birth, which was a miracle in and of itself, but her unique vision of half Miraluka, half Hapan let her see spirits in a way that most didn’t.

“Otherwise…I do know someone who could help with simulating the mental attacks and echos. He will be reluctant, but if he knows how important this is…he’d help.”

Marick shifted a bit in his now seated position. He knew how to train and guide and fight, but he worried that she would not be receptive to his ideas.

Sofila blinked when he offered her to sit. Her expression quickly went over to annoyed.

Didn’t he just help her stand-

Kark. She sat down and fought against grumbling at him for playing sit and stand game. Marick brought up Atiryu as she winced a bit more and then when he mentioned Kirra-

Sofila did NOT like the idea of Kirra being involved in this, no matter how powerful or ‘grown’ she seems, she was still, seven years old.

“No. Absolutely not.” Her tone made it so strong that it may be the strongest voice Marick ever heard from her. He continued and mentioned that he knows someone that can help with mental attacks. Her brows furrowed. Well. It can’t be Anders because he wouldn’t be reluctant. She tried to remember someone who was good at mental stuff besides the creepy Taldryan guy. Though if Marick said he would be reluctant, she wouldn’t have the heart to continue knowing this.

“No. I meant- kark. Okay. The exercises would help. I’ll do those. Let’s just… start with that and go from there.”

‘Sure,“ Marick replied. Only years of practiced neutrality and control of his emotions hid the wince of the rebuttal. He knew that his linear view of problem solving didn’t work for everyone. He was slowly learning that sapient beings just didn’t function that way. Even if there was a simple solution, or a clear one, if it was not what they wanted to do, it was hard to convince them otherwise.

So instead he simply focused on explaining some of the mental exercises she could work on. He explained things like playing holochess blindfolded, and remembering where pieces were on the board. He explained the principles behind 'Seek the Stone’, which was where you broke your mind into two parts; one part would hide the stone, the other would try and find where it was hidden.

"Being able to split your mind into parts is the core of controlling it. In theory, you would segment a part of your mind that is dedicated to looking for signs of Scimitar, even while the rest of your mind is focused on day-to-day tasks. It’s just practice and routine. If you can normalize that, it becomes easier to notice anomalies in your own mind.”

“The important thing about your…partner is the added accountability. For me, my mentor used…questionable tactics. Like training until I was exhausted and passed out, then woke me mid sleep cycle with a lightsaber hovering over my face. Or waking up to a wave of Terror. Or having to stay awake for three days while also training…”

Marick didn’t seem bothered by the memory. But if she was watching closely, she would have noticed that his lack of emotion or reaction showed the weight of that training. It had worked, but at what cost?

“So, even if Farrow can help make sure you’re…doing these, it will help with your mind and control. Have him make you re-play parts of your conversations, asking questions.”

Sofila was so relieved when Marick didn’t push on the other things. Then she looked at him in shock.

Split. Her. Mind.

What? Sofila stared at him for a bit. That was… Ugh. His training was rough and it wasn’t the first time she heard that kind of training but kriff it all to the suns and back. She was quiet for a long time. She can do this. She’s more… worried about getting angry at Cole when he wakes her up or making her repeat and she already know that was going to be so hard but she’ll do it.

She wants to improve. Hang out with friends again. Babysit. Maybe even have a family of her own.

With a deep sigh, she gave Marick an understanding nod. “Okay. Just … one thing. Your… mentor isn’t around anymore, right?”

Marick blinked once.

“Correct.”

“Okay good!” Sofila smiled at him like she wasn’t hiding anything.

“Right…. sooooo… I guess we should do some physical training? So yea… can get me tired. And try that… conversation repeat thing.” Truth to be told, she was already beyond kriffing exhausted. Cole and her haven’t slept well and it wasn’t just because of Scimitar.

Cole never slept good himself for who knows how long. Even before they met.

Physical training isn’t a trouble, but I leave that up to you if you want that from me. I can walk you through the motions of what I practice every day. Discipline, slow careful movement, routine,“ he gestured.

“….slow? Routine?” Sofila groaned in exasperation. She was never good at the idea of slowing down. Life was too short to be slow.

“How is that physical training? It all sounds like sleepy yoga to me.”

Marick didn’t so much as blink. “One of us has sleepy yoga, and the other is asking for help with mental resistance against a Sith poltergeist.”

Sofila stared at him, slightly surprised by the smart ass comment.

“Dammmmn Marick. Did Asani teach you….never mind.” She sighed. “Fine, I’ll try- do.”

Marick nodded. “It actually takes a lot of stabilizing muscle to move slowly. Throwing a punch is a technique, and you don’t even realize how mechanically efficient you are at it from your battle training. But to move slowly, with intention. That’s how you better strike, as well, and your muscles will gain additional training in sync with the mind.”

He stood next to her and started a basic pattern of Sliding Hands.

Hands went flat like knives out in front. His arms made a slow circle. One hand extended, straight while the other stayed in front of his chest. He reversed the motion, extending the other hand while retracting the other.

His feet slid, circling, moving slowly, carefully, slower than even a courtly dance. He tightened his core, dipped his knees, then stretched up on his toes, lifting a leg and then re-planting it.

He repeated the motion slowly, then glanced side long at her.

Sofila huffed, trying not to show her slight frustration.

This is like another martial arts. That’s all it is, Sof. You got this. She tried to give herself the pep talk. She copied Marick’s movements but she’s more concrete than fluid like Marick was.

A few minutes later…

Marick spoke up, “What did I say a few minutes ago?”

Sofila almost fell over, her body covered in sweat from the Selen’s heat and the humidity was not helping.

“You expect me remember that long ago!?” She can feel Marick’s glare as she groaned.

“Okay okay, umm…” She trailed off. “Something about punch… and battle… and training… stabilizing muscles.. Yes, I know that’s not repeating. I’m sorry.” Sofila grumbled under her breath.

“Correct. Now, let’s start from the beginning.”

He shifted back to the first position, as if it were the most perfect and normal routine. His hands went flat like knives out in front. His arms made a slow circle. One hand extended, straight while the other stayed in front of his chest. He reversed the motion, extending the other hand while retracting the other.

“This is the easy part, by the way. The hard part is when you start working in logical or philosophical quandaries.”

Sofila exhaled as she made the small circle and then froze-

“I’m sorry, in what?”

Marick didn’t break concentration or movement. “Mind and body. So for example, if a Neti transformed into a tree, amid a forest, falls, but no one is around to hear it, does it make a sound?”

His back foot slid back and moved in a semi-circle. Then, with a thrust of his palm forward, a rock twenty meters away lifted up and hurled itself back into a tree trunk like a bullet.

He then continued through his patterns, as effortless as a cat stretching post-nap.

“Parallel processing is another word for it.”

Sofila dumbfounded stared at Marick with that question.

“I- Huh?” Sofila winced when he used telekinesis again. Telekinesis was not her strong suit.

“Okayyyyy, Marick, I don’t do telekinesis stuff.” She pointed out as she huffed for a moment before sliding her feet back into position.

“And yes it does, Neti has ears and would hear it’s own sound when it falls.”

“It’s not about Telekinesis. It’s about being able to compartmentalize your mind, splitting your attention, while remaining focused. I can do this simple, basic routine in my sleep. Because of that, I have control, and can direct my will at a target. I used the Force because I practice every day to do so. I ma not limited by it, though. And because of that, if someone tries to alter or push into my mind, I can fend it off.”

He continued his motion, not breaking so much as a sweat despite the amount of core and stabilizer muscle it took to move slowly and precisely as he did.

“Well, that’s partially right. The technical answer is that sound is created wether we hear it or not, but yes, it does make a sound. That was just an example though. These are things Cole can do with you while they train. Basic math equations, not even complex ones. The point is to be able to keep your body doing one thing, while your mind does the other. This is balance.”

Sofila huffed.

“I don’t even like math..” She muttered as she almost lost her balance trying to get the form right and listening to Marick.

Kriff.

This was going to be a long day.

And a long day it was.

“I’m fiiiiinnnne, I swear,” Sofila winced as she tried to hit the panel for her kriffing door. The buttons are right there. RIGHT THERE. But she’s so sore, she- no. That was some weak talk. She ignored her muscles aching as she pushed the buttons and the door slid open. The lights hummed as they turned on. She almost cringed at the lights, her headache was a steady throb and enough to be annoying.

“Oh. Cole isn’t home yet.” She frowned and glanced back to Marick.

“Well….” She didn’t want to Cole the bad news by herself but at the same time, it might soften the blow.

“If you want to wait here… you can… I’m just… gonna lay down.” She made her way to the couch and faceplanted.

Then she tried to talk but it was muffled, “cl—- -he –oor.”

<@189568236201705472> <@432543120635461643>

Marick blinked once.

He closed the door and then wordlessly looked around, unintentionally commiting every detail to memory out of habit.

“…do you require water?” he asked, still awkwardly just standing in the vestibule.

The apartment wasn’t sparkly clean but it was picked up ,cleaned up, and looks lived in. There’s shelves of books had a mixture of children’s books and various information on weapons as well battling. On the other shelf, there’s ten mugs, all different designs and shaped that would give Marick the idea that one of them may like spooky things or cute, considering one of a shape was a pumpkin and the other was a mini cauldron with adorable little nubs.

On the walls, there were pictures of Sof and her family. Many goofy ones but there was a few of serious ones or two. The only photo of Cole that was up was the one with Sofila and him made a pinky promise. And one more, a selfie that was obviously imposed by Sofila and a very serious looking Cole. If you look closer, there might be a hint of amusement in his eyes.

There was no respond from the Mirialan. Instead, she had fallen asleep on the couch.

Cole came home within the hour though pushing toward the latter end of it. He hadn’t known when exactly Sofila would return and had been out with Corvo for dinner. It had been a long conversation, explaining the Zuza situation primarily. Corvo had understood in the end, and they’d fallen into less unpleasant topics though he’d been able to see the concern in the Chiss’ eyes. Things had been mentioned but left unexplained. Those were a problem for another day however.

He opened the door, closing it behind him and first spotting Sofila laid flat out on the Sofila completely out of it. Then he spotted Marick Tyris just… hanging out.

Cole glanced between them, concern rising as he locked the door, “Tyris. Is she okay?”

Marick had, since not being instructed or invited to otherwise, stayed where he was in the vestibule. He had, in a bit of a daring move, found a folded throw blanket and with a subtle gesture of his hand telekinetically placed it over the sleeping Mirilan. He then quietly adjusted any of the pictures that were not straightened or were tilted, all while keeping his hands folded behind his back. Eventually, however, he pulled out his datapad and started to read through some backlog files and sent a few messages out to Wyn, Atyiru, and others.

When the door opened, Marick just stared stoically at Cole. “Farrow,” he greeted in his calm monotone. “She is fine, just fatigued from alternative training methods we practiced.”

He blinked once, glancing to see and check if the Mirilan had even stirred at the door and commotion. Not that either of the men made much noise and had the training to move silently when needed. “I think I can help her, but I’m going to need your assistance.”

“And what’s that exactly?” Cole queried, taking on the explanation and calming down quite a bit more in just a moment.

It made sense that was enough considering she did seem to simply be sleeping.

“Resisting the influence of the Force is finesse work. On the surface, a strong will is enough but even a cliff face can crack and erode against the sea at storm. But it’s often never that simple.”

He frowned slightly. “In simple terms: she needs to train her mind the way she’s trained her body. One hundred sit ups is easy to maintain your abs, but for your mind, you need to do similar. I can show you a few things we did today. And perhaps you could help keep her up on them. She needs to be able to throw up a ward even if she’s tired. Body and mind.”

He made a vague gesture with one hand. “And to get her true help, I would need to enlist others. But I don’t think she wants that. So.”

He shrugged a bit helplessly.

“Not the apples…” Sofila murmured in her sleep.

Cole nodded slowly, glancing over toward her and then back to Marick. It made sense. His own skill in resisting telepathic intrusions was through consistent practise and maintainance. Sofila would have to do similar.

And it was practically guaranteed she’d hate every minute of it.

“Knowing what training she is meant to be doing would be useful in helping her keep up with it.”

Marick nodded once. “My suggestions are memory and cognition based while also exerting physical strain. Splitting focus: try and so simple logic puzzles while also doing sit ups, push ups, things she enjoys or likes. You can have her memorize a pattern or sequence of martial arts movements, then make her repeat them back; cross-jab-chamber block-spin-kick, reverse, and so on,” he spoke calmly and quietly.

“Distract her intentionally, redirect attention. The mind is a muscle,” he shrugged a bit. “I will forward a few concepts to your datapad, but you know her better.”

He paushed, considering his next words. He could see Cole’s seriousness, and had read between the lines of Sophila’s concern. He knew when two people cared for one another imensely, that was easy to see. The harder part was knowing if it was his place to say anything. So, he tried a gambit.

“I also think you need to give her the benefit of the doubt,” he said barely over a whisper, but his voice was clear and crisp. “What she is dealing with would be a trial for even me. And I have seen the inside workings of the Dark Lords of the Sith, had them bore into my mind. So…I can’t tell you what to do, but please trust me, Cole,” he used Farrows first name, a rarity.

“She needs you, and trust me when I say, when you find that person who sees you for who you are, without any masks or walls or guards, do not let anyone take it from you.”

His voice was harder an more immutable then beskar. His usually bright blue eyes went hard as slate. He had taken Atyiru for granted. They had faught, grown distant, placed duty to their friends and clanmates above themselves. He had lost her. He had fallen. And only by the grace of Ashal and Bogan themselves had he recovered enough to believe, again, that there was hope and light in the world.

“Forward always, Farrow,” the Hapan clasped him on the shoudler gently and moved to make an exit.

Cole nodded at the beginning, understanding what Marick meant. Being able to mentally process a bigger picture, different aspects or things was vital to being able to handle a greater variety of situations. Already he could imagine making her repeat lines from her story books, what morales were attached to which books so she wouldn’t annoyed about it.

But then Tyris continued. Cole had seen the way Tyris had paused, waiting to hear what it would be and- The benefit of the doubt. He’d been trying for months. To get her to text people back. To do other things. To train. To seek help. The frustration was quickly stemmed, understanding that none of that was visible. Nor was it important.

Sofila had done it. He had to trust her to continue it.

He didn’t get time to linger on it before the fact Tyris used his first time registered along with the following sentence.

It was like ice had been poured down his back. It often felt like that, when Tyris or his wife seemingly stared directly into his soul and put a piece of it on display. The only person I’d lose her to is herself.

Forward. Chin up, eyes forward. The words echoed.

Yet, no. This was different. Cole turned his head to meet Marick’s gaze, a slight frown creasing his features. His face matched the exhaustion on Sofila’s, dark bags under his eyes and a slight redness that only someone as perceptive as Marick would catch even in dim lighting with his sight. They shifted back to Sofila’s sleeping form, letting a slow exhale go and speaking in a softer tone than he usually would. Be it exhaustion, a sense of comfort or something else, a note had been hit.

“She didn’t let me go. I’m not letting go of her. I can promise her that.”

Marick inclined his head in a show of silent, formal acknowledgement. “Rest up. This is just the beginning. You are not alone.” He glanced over at the sleeping Sophila. “Either of you.”

He opened the door.

“Life before death, Farrow. Journey before destination,” he repeated Atyiru’s words as he parted- words that had become a somewhat guiding light for him in his path towards escaping his bloody past. He closed the door behind him as he returned to the streets of Port Ol'val.

Not alone. He waited an appropriate 30 seconds before crossing to the door, securing each lock and leaning his head against the metal for a moment, eyes closed and listening to the sound of Sofila’s breathing behind him.

One. Two. Three. She wasn’t awake, if the door opening hadn’t done it she wouldn’t wake until morning.

He crossed to the sofa, and carefully picked her up, one arm under her knees and the other supporting her back and arm. Cole had to shift her a little to get her in a way she could actually be carried properly and did so, getting Sofila into bed before preparing to sleep himself. Washing up, a small portion of food to make up for forgetting earlier.

Habit. Step by step. He was tired as it was, but by the time he laid in bed himself Cole was quick to fall asleep. The following weeks wouldn’t be easy, but neither had the last several years. He wouldn’t rest easy, but it’d enough to get up and start a new day. It was enough.

Sofila winced while opened her eyes and started to wake up. She found herself facing Cole’s back as he was facing the door as always.

Wait.

How did she get back on the bed? Cole. Of course. Where was Marick? What time was it? Did Marick stay or left when they arrived? Does Cole know anything?

She didn’t dare to move, she wanted Cole to finally get some rest. She could hear the soft hum of the fan nearby and the busy street below their windows. It was their white noise. A comfort.

Her hand, as it did every night or every time she woke up, reached out but never touched him. Always stopped at the same spot in the middle. She grasped the sheets between her fingers and started to silently rub, feeling the cool and soft fabric to help distract her. It was a habit she picked up when they stopped cuddling. Everything from yesterday was slowly coming back to her.

The training. Marick’s words. The expressions on his face. The concern. And finding out about a karking echo of Sci-

Then her chest tightened as she felt like a breath was stolen away. Cole must not know about… or he would’ve left. Would he? No. He wouldn’t. He hasn’t left- Yes, he would. It would make logical sense. I will always be angry. I would always hurt him. He should leave, maybe I should make him go- Why would he stay with me if I was always going to be angry with this karking- Sofila caught herself gasping and gripping the sheet angrily. She immediately released the fabric. Cole was starting to move.

Kark! She woke him up and she could feel the rage from the anger at everything that had been happening nipping right at her heels-

No. No! Redirect, redirect, redirect, redirect, redirect. I can karking do this- Sofila winced as she quickly and to the best of her ability, silent rolled out of bed and clutched her chest while she attempted to make her way to the living room.

“Redirect..” Sofila gasped out.

His first thought was that she’d been attacked. The gasping breaths, struggling to breathe. What had he missed? Cole was to his feet, ready to deal with the threat at hand before he even registered the reality.

But there was no threat. Not actively. Only one’s from within, for him fading into the shadows as his eyes adjusted to the dimly lit room, only silvers of light from outside breaching the blinds. For Sofila, it was.. what it usually was.

He was at her side as quickly as he would have been had they been facing a physical threat, a hand going to her shoulder so she’d stop trying to move away from the room.

Redirect. It rang a bell. The conversation with Tyris followed.

“Look at me, I’m here.” He spoke, quiet but firm.

His hand landed on her shoulder as she bit her cheek.

It’s all my fault, the anger, the fights-

Karking STOP. And it was redirected. To the Echo.

Her shoulders relaxed but she made no movement to turn and look at him. She was too terrified to. After what felt like an eternity, in a slow and hesitated movement, she finally turned to face him. How could she feel so small around him when she was taller and slightly bigger than him?

Her eyes met with his blue ones for a moment and she quickly looked away. Her arms crossed as she started to rub her upper arms as if she was a bit cold.

“I’m okay,” then her brows furrowed. “Was… Marick here when you came home?”

“He was.” Cole responded, the worry only deepening. Kriff, half his life at this point was worrying. Not that it was any worse than the last few years anyway. Significantly better, at least.

He accepted the brief glance, hesistating before shifting his arm to half hug her to himself rather than just holding her shoulder.

Sofila let out an exhale so sharp it almost sounded like she was holding her breath as she wrapped her arms around Cole quickly and pulled him into a hug, desperately hanging onto him and didn’t want to let go. Her face buried into his shoulder as her breaths became shaky. Just his scent, his warmth- It had been so long- she just wanted to lay in bed, cuddle. Forget about today, forget about tomorrow, just cuddling and maybe making some faces at him-

She could feel her eyes burning. No. She wasn’t going to cry. She aggressively cleared her throat so her voice wouldn’t be breaking.

“Did… he say anything?”

He resisted the urge to tense at the sudden movement, the shadows still too present for his liking but the paranoia pushed aside in favour of her. Her hair still smelled of the sugary fruits that she loved.

And dirt.

“Some. I’m sure there’s things he left out but he explained the training, what you’re going to be doing. How I can help.”

Panic rose again. He didn’t tell him. He didn’t **karking* tell-* Sofila took in a deep breath. Redirect. She gently pulled away from the hug and glanced down, not wanting to meet with his eyes right now.

“I … think you should sit down for this.” Cole hesitated but sat at the edge of the bed and Sof followed by him. She started to fidget and pick on her fingers. How the kark was she-

Kark **you, Marick-

No. It wasn’t his to tell. Sofila took in a huge inhale, her shoulders rose, as she looked to wall and stared at it for a moment.

“He… has a theory and it’s pretty… unnerving. It makes sense- I mean- Well- Okay. I can do this. So, apparently pretty common when it comes with the Force-” She cleared her throat, her nerves showing through her voice with how shaky it was becoming.

“No, I can’t even explain it if I barely understand it. Best way, I can say that… the dagger, the one that stabbed me and belonged to Scimitar had…. left an Echo of himself.” Her arms started to have goosebumps as she felt a chill down her spine. “In me. I-I-” She stopped, her chest felt tight again. Her eyes went to the floor. It still explained so much. Her anger. The nightmares.

It doesn’t excuse it. She’s learning. Redirection has been working and Marick even gave Cole information how to help her. She hated the whole stupid idea itself…

But it’s working and she’s going to try. The idea of something so dark in her still terrifies her. She didn’t know she was rubbing her hands so roughly until she stopped. Then she remembered a moment when she caught Cole after his Trail when they needed to destroy the second artifact, there was something he said to make sure they were okay.

She let out a very quiet laugh as she nervously looked over to Cole, “Strings..?”

Left an echo. Scimtar, in some way or another, in a faint trace had.. been within her. It explained so much. The shift in her, her struggling with anger and nightmares in a way she never had before that mission. That karking mission. He’d regret not going if he didn’t so starkly remeber where they were when it occured. He’d have had no reason to go, to pressure her into letting him follow. They hadn’t established a relationship yet. Not fully, not.. no.

It still pained him, watching her pick and press and realising he was hesistating from daring to make her stop afterall these months of bickering about it.

He didn’t hesistate though, when she looked at him, meeting her gaze with a steely blue one, “Strings.”