| Author |
Topic:
The Wise
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1Yodimus_Prime
Registered:
Mar '04
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Date Posted:
12/20/07 11:46pm
Subject:
RE: The Wise - CH 12: Wild Flower
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Chapter 12: Wild Flower
Tira Sarogga was born Lusivina Sellette Liam Dee Sarogga, first and only child to Danusar Liam Vit Sarogga and Sellette Murrasanna Toorin Dee Sarogga. Her parents were the Baron and Baroness of Dolus’s capital city of the same name. All four of Tira’s names were shared with ancestors who maintained their fingerprints to this day, through city names, monuments, and sprawling cathedrals or fortresses across the sector. Across worlds. Their family history could be traced back three millennia. Sadly, most of it had been spent in bloody and devastating feudal wars they’d rather not speak about. In fact, for the most recent thousand years, the Sarogga name only counted for a minor territory in the bitter Polar Regions. That is, up until several decades ago, when the planet’s ruling kingdom fell in a coup. Thanks to a quick response from the Jedi, the resulting military regime was reigned in and gave way to a fragile democratic government.
When this happened, the Saroggas were the first to petition the Republic for legal amnesty. They cited the Nobility Protection Act, which let monarchal and oligarchic hierarchies survive beyond their relevancy, but only if evidence could be shown that their dissolution would cause instability. This was done by giving the right people the right amount of credits. The evidence created itself.
Because the new democracy annihilated the old territorial battle lines, putting them up for grabs, and because they were the first to petition, the Saroggas had pick of where ever they liked, upon any portion of the globe they wished. Predictably, they chose the biggest and most visible – Dolus’s capital itself. Because of this, they spent the next twenty years simply maintaining their right to exist. Not just legally, but politically as well. It was crippling. An elegant, bejeweled curse for them to bear. Everything they did was put under a microscope; every move they made was questioned. Hundreds of hungry, powerful eyes hounded them ceaselessly, searching like carrion eaters, waiting for a sign that they were weak enough to devour.
By the time Lusivina was born, the situation had settled down. The Baron Danusar’s platoon of lawyers had done their job well. The biggest scandals had blown over, the most embarrassing missteps covered up. Lusivina got to be the first Sarogga child in forty years to grow up with some semblance of privacy. So of course, her parents made every effort to ruin that privacy as often as possible. Even when they didn’t mean to.
It wasn’t overt, but Lusivina could sense that deep-running jealousy anyway, even if her parents couldn’t. It made them seem cold and distant to her, the way they would play to others when they spoke to her. It made her feel like a prop instead of a person. She retreated from their embrace, seeing it as cold and phony. Instead of bonding with them, she bonded with the house servants. They didn’t treat anybody like a prop. After all, they knew what it felt like.
With the servants, she had room to be herself. Lusivina discovered that she never felt restrained or held back around them, so she let herself push boundaries. And she pushed hard. After the tutors left each afternoon, Lu would go outside to play. The servants would take turns watching her. When they let her play up to the orchard, she’d play into the orchard. When they said, “That’s fine, but don’t do it again.” then next time, she went even further. When they said, “Okay, you can go as far as you like, but only as long as you stay in view of someone,” she started playing the toughest game of hide-and-seek ever conceived by an eight year old. When the servants finally threw up their hands and said, “Okay, go where you wish!” she disappeared for an entire day and night. When they hired a bodyguard to shadow her, she kicked him in the shin and stole his stun blaster.
The servants found it all quite adorable. She became known affectionately as “Tira” – “Wild Flower” in the ancient Dolusian tongue, which many of the housemaids spoke exclusively. Tira fit into the name like it had been tailored for her. She loved it.
Around her parents, though, they simply called her “Ti.” “Ra,” which technically meant “wild,” but also meant “feral” or literally, “danger lying in wait,” would have been an inappropriate term for the daughter of a Baron. Danusar would have become furious if he found out. Ti was okay, though, and true – she was a beautiful child, after all. Plus, it had the affect of deepening the rift between little Tira and her parents. Their little secret.
And it continued. The servants gave her things when she asked, even if they were hard to get. They let her stay up past her bedtime if she wished. They let her watch holovids she was too young for, if she wanted to. They lied for her if she did something wrong. What did her parents do? Made rules. Yelled at her. Sent her to her room. Made her eat yucky food. Made more rules. Loving the servants became a very easy thing to do.
While she loved them all, there was one servant in particular that Tira favored. A newer girl whom everyone just called Aunt P, though she was only Tira’s senior by a decade and some change: easily the youngest girl serving under their roof. No one knew her real name, only that she was an immigrant from Neimoidia – which was obvious from her appearance. Even twelve years later, when Tira officially became “Aunt P”s near-equal as a Sith Apprentice, she never found out the Neimoidian’s original name. For all Tira knew, it had *always* been Pyre.
But back then, stuff like names and prestige didn’t matter to Tira. Only that, when her parents criticized, Aunt P complimented. When they found fault, Aunt P found promise. When they dismissed, Aunt P welcomed. When they looked at Tira with embarrassment in their eyes, surrounded by people who’s opinion they cared way too much about, and put her down with cold patronizing statements whose cruelty they could never guess…Aunt P took the girl in her arms and comforted her, and let her cry if that’s what she wanted to do, or laugh, or jump up and down, or talk with her mouth full, or whatever it was that her parents had been too self-centered to tolerate.
She shared her darkest secrets with Aunt P, because she knew the Neimoidian would accept her no matter what it was. Even that thing she did the year before.
When a new species is logged by a xenobiologist, it is placed into one of four special categories. These categories are universal; they apply to every living thing in the entire galaxy, no matter where it evolved, how it evolved, or when it evolved. In fact, this classification has nothing to do with biology at all, it has to do with the Force. Interestingly, although all four of these phrases came into common usage around a century ago, the scientific definitions did not survive the transfer, to the irritation of many xenobiologists. They still blame the Jedi for destroying the meanings of "Force Strong" and "Force Sensitive."
The four categories, and their actual scientific definitions, are thus:
If a lifeform is completely blind to the Force, with no exceptions, it is considered Force Weak. If it is blind to the Force, but has a biological barrier to the Force’s affects, it is considered Force Exempt. Hutts fall under this one. The Ysalamiri on Myrkr are an extreme example. If the creature is normally blind to the Force, but exceptions are possible, then it is considered Force Strong. Every sentient lifeform in the galaxy falls between Force Exempt and Force Strong. Nearly every nonsentient lifeform falls under Force Weak. Those that don’t, fall under the last category. Any lifeform that is genetically predisposed to utilize the Force in an active and versatile manner, is Force Sensitive.
The official list of every logged species in the Galaxy, if it was written out, would be equivalent to forty million pages in length. Of that, the "Force Sensitive" category fills two.
There is exactly one living on Dolus. Phosphicus Extraversicus. A tall, four-legged, rabbit eared creature, with big eyes and an elaborate shell on its back. The natives call them Glowies in Basic. The name stems from the complex natural designs laced across their curved shells, which glow blue when they’re close to other lifeforms. The action is meant to draw others near. In fact, much about them evolved in a manner that makes them enticing to other living creatures. They emulate mating calls. Their fur is impeccably soft down their long legs and ears. They have no claws, and their teeth are ornamental. They act docile, even around predators. The Glowies do all these things because of what they eat.
The Glowy is not technically an animal, but a plant. Except, instead of absorbing sunlight through leaves, they absorb the Force aura of living creatures through telepathy. How this is done and why they evolved this way are unanswered questions. The Glowy’s biology remains an enigma to this day. But one thing can be agreed on: Glowies are harmless. In fact, they are more than harmless, they are self-domesticated. Pets spawned entirely from natural selection. There is nothing sweeter, friendlier, and more innocent than a Glowy. Having one around could literally brighten your day.
So when Tira started killing them, she instinctively knew she needed to keep it a secret, even from the servants. But with Aunt P., that was a different matter.
“So you killed them for fun?”
“Not for 'fun'! To see how they worked!” She stomped in frustration, “I didn’t mean to make them die…”
Aunt P smiled, ”But you did it a second time anyway?”
Tira looked straight at her, defiant, “Well…it didn’t bother me, either.”
When Aunt P heard the girl explain this, she didn’t recoil at all. There was no disgust or fear in her voice. In fact, she thought it was delightfully amusing. Her only suggestion to little Tira was, the next time the urge to do something like that arose, that she wait until something bigger came by…and when something bigger did come by, to wait for something even bigger than that, and so on, till there was no longer anything bigger than what stood before her. Then…and only then, kill.
The chance never came up but, like everything Aunt P said, Tira took it to heart.
Of course, the darker secret about those animal victims wasn’t the fact that she killed them…it was how she killed them. This was another thing she only revealed to Aunt P, and not a single other soul. She never used a weapon. Her hands never left her sides. They died as though by magic. They died because she decided, in her mind, that they should. Like the way God did…or so Aunt P compared it..
It was well known that Tira had a high potential for Force sensitivity: her parents let her be tested on Coruscant once, by one of the Jedi proselyters who hung around the senate like ticks on a carcass – as Tira would later describe such people. But the midichlorian reading wasn’t significantly high, and their little girl never showed a single sign of being truly Sensitive. So they brushed it off as a fluke. Tira never corrected them. She hid it from every single person she knew, even other kids, even if they bullied her. Aunt P was the only person in the universe who ever found out. It was exactly what Pyre was waiting for.
When Tira was old enough, her parents sent her off to the University of Aldera, ostensibly to study law. This was not what happened. Instead, a trusted servant went in her place, while Tira followed Aunt P back to her home planet, to mentor under the older girl’s guidance, learning the deep mysteries of the Force. Eventually, they moved from there to an abandoned Neimoidian settlement on Geonosis, where Aunt P revealed herself and offered Tira a chance to be her Apprentice. This was an easy decision.
When Darth Pyre’s Master, Darth Animus, was murdered, Tira wasn’t sure. But she knew instinctively that this was what happened – that Pyre killed her Master. The sheer capacity for violence Tira saw in the woman, it was breathtaking. She wanted that. To be able to do that without blinking. It was the only real favor Tira asked of her Master.
So Pyre dangled it like a Sooja root in front of her, letting it be the one thing always promised but never delivered. A tried and true technique. Old technique, too. Tira knew all about it. After becoming Darth “Uaverus,” looking through her Master’s secret files became a breeze, and highly enlightening. Pyre wrote down absolutely everything. The woman was meticulous. In a very short time, she became predictable, too.
Tira became bored there, around Darth Pyre, listening to her plans. She got tired of pretending they were actually good, rather than sadistic variations on the same tactics used by every would-be conqueror since before the dawn of the Republic. Helping to bring tiny insignificant portions of the woman’s ideas into fruition was getting tedious. The moment she found an excuse – in the form of familial strife – Tira left. Pyre did not follow. In fact, she supported the choice.
Tira returned home, flanked by a legion of Dolusian Planetary Guardsmen. She got to see her mother die that night, trapped inside a poisoned body, withering away, unable to move or even speak. Tira helped her along with a kind thought (Go towards the light. I love you, but only if you go towards the light), and closed her mom’s eyes ten seconds before midnight, announcing the death with tears. For the cameras. She made sure the cousin who did it – Lorrine Tura Vit Sarogga, daughter of a belligerent uncle – was exiled to Ferros VI for the rest of her miserable life.
The ceremony giving Tira her rightful title was held after an appropriate period of mourning, ringing her in with fanfare and armed guards. Securing her position over the next year required blackmailing twice-removed godparents and disgracing paternal second cousins. It was a full-time job, but it didn’t last long. Eventually, everyone accepted – at least begrudgingly – that she was the rightful Baroness of the Sarogga House.
So she set about becoming the only Baroness on the planet.
At the time of her ceremony, Dolus contained only three legitimate Noble Families. The rest lost their title with the loss of the monarchy. To Tira, it was two too many. Their constant vying for power made them collectively impotent in the long run. Nobody could get anything done when there was always someone waiting to undo everyone else’s work. So she set about doing the same thing to them, over the next few years, that she’d done to rival family members. It was all a matter of finding their vice, providing it to them till their will was lost and their dependency lay with her…and then letting the world see what they’d done, shaming and humiliating them into repression. Worked every time.
Except, sometimes it drove a member of one of the families to commit suicide. That made her sick. With her own family, it was easy to deal with the ones who dropped into deep depressions caused by her brutal methods of self-security. She just kept them close and befriended them, always making sure they had something to live for, but never quite enough to live for that they became anything more than useless. With the other Noble families, she had no such control. Those she drove to suicide died. Period. She felt terrible.
She felt terrible because Tira had a secret that even Darth Pyre never learned. Those animals she killed, when she was a little girl…she never meant to kill them at all. And every time she did, every single time, it had been unbearable. She had told Pyre killing them hadn’t bothered her. It hadn’t. Killing them devastated her. She buried each and every one in its own little grave, with its own little marker. And afterward, she couldn’t figure out why she even did what she did in the first place.
Even now, as Baroness, she went to those places, knelt by each tiny beam of rusting durasteel, touched the dirt where her victims lay. All I ever wanted to do was see how you worked. I was reckless, and I went too far. I never meant to break you. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. – this silent prayer she lent them, every week, for the rest of her life.
Back when that final bout of “playtime” went too far, and ended in devastation and terrible regret, little Tira made a vow: she would never again kill anything with her own hands or magic, ever again.
She never broke it.
Being the only Baroness had its perks. She’d be invited to sit on Congressional meetings, and even have her say if the floor was opened up. She used this to her advantage, promoting ideas and policies that would gain Dolus favor with the Republic – a Republic whose suspicions her government seemed to be taking for granted. With her suggestions, the Core Worlds began to see their doubts about Dolus sink into nothing. This led to political favors from Coruscant, which led to increased economic growth, which led to everybody on Dolus just falling in love with the shrewd, beautiful Baroness from parts unknown. The prodigal daughter, back from a long absence to save the day. Stuff for the holos. Lights; makeup; roll ‘em. She became famous.
They would have elected her President, but the seat wouldn’t be open for another three years and the planet’s attention span was nowhere near that long. Instead, she was dragged into the more contested race for Deputy President – a seat that, while the same length as the presidency, was staggered such that the Deputy served under two different Presidents each time. Tira’s first inclination was to refuse. Her interest did not lie in politics.
Her decision would have been final, had her Master not gotten wind of it. Pyre appeared to her via hologram one night. First time in over a year. She looked awe-inspiring, decked out in an Admiral’s uniform, guards flanking her. The suggestion was simple: becoming a figurehead would be a very good idea. The implications were uncomplicated: this was “Avarice’s first and best chance to bring honor to the Order.” The warning was blunt: if still she refused after this, the final reminder of Dolus’s old hierarchical way of life would be buried within the week, in the form of her, and her entire family. Tira begrudgingly called an emergency press conference to announce her candidacy.
It was the dirtiest, most brutal political campaign in Dolus’s fifty-year-long democratic history. There had been a glut of hopefuls that year, and many of them truly believed they deserved it. Many of them probably did. But even the most upstanding, purest, most chaste, morally righteous citizens had something hidden in the darkness of their hearts. Baroness Tira Sarogga, she found every single one, and when she did, she kept it until it glowed with the terrified look of those who discover their secret is known, and she built carefully a unique pedestal for each, and she placed – ever so gently – every single glaring, hideous secret on the center and hit the floodlights.
It was a massacre.
Tira, she prayed each and every night for the animals she’d killed so long ago. And every night she promised to never again do that to any living creature, no matter how big or small. Not with her own hands. Never with her own hands, or with her own Force. She would never break another living thing that way, ever again. But…to bend it as far as it could go…now that...
She lived for that.
***
It was deep enough into the night to be called early morning by the time the boy returned. He returned like a walking corpse, like a malfunctioning droid, staggering and shaking and twitching. He was covered in blood, weak, looking like he would collapse any second. His hand hung limp at his side, the vibroblade having long slipped out. His left foot was a mess he dared not put weight on. His clothes clung to him, sticky with blood. His hair was drenched with sweat and snow, and hung like icicles upon his shivering form. A pitiful sight.
But his eyes…
His eyes showed his soon-to-be Master everything she needed to know. Brilliant, shining eyes. Hungry, gleeful, vicious eyes. Joyful, spiteful eyes. The eyes of Murder. Her lips curled into something like a smile and she stepped out of the cabin to greet him. She looked magnificent in the darkness. If she didn’t say so herself.
They stared at each other quietly for a while. The boy would know when to speak, of course. Shared trust. And eventually, he did.
“It’s…it’s over,” he said, in less than a whisper, hoarse and rough with the whittled edge of someone much older.
“Good. Very good,” said Averus just as quiet, but astronomically more forceful. The Dark Side smiled on her this night; her simple plan had come to fruition. The only plan, in her entire life, that she ever cared about…and it worked. It worked!
Darth Averus, finally, had an heir.
happy holidays
-----signature-----
Rule 12: A soft answer turneth away wrath. Once wrath is looking the other way, shoot it in the head. --- http://boards.theforce.net/b/b1/26481069 - The Wise http://boards.theforce.net/B/b1/21283317 - Planet Hopping
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MsLanna
Title: CR GSFF Central
Registered:
Jul '05
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Date Posted:
12/23/07 5:31am
Subject:
RE: The Wise - CH 12: Wild Flower
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So you managed to put in another whole history before telling us who won the fight. But I won't complain, at least, you did tell us.
I'm not sure whether her preference to bend people instead of braking them is commendable. It's probably harder for those she bent.
-----signature-----
Padawan owned by Corellian_Ale  Master of CloneCaptainRex.  Proud FanFic Master of Darth_Sathanos Why so serious?  Master of baritonejedi
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Healer_Leona
Registered:
Jul '00
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Date Posted:
12/23/07 3:29pm
Subject:
RE: The Wise - CH 12: Wild Flower
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What a fascinating history you give us. NOt surprising that even after decades Lusivina could feel deep rooted jealousy. Commom enough for all royals and rich. Ha, I like the defentiion of Ti and Ra as well. Appropriate much?
Her only suggestion to little Tira was, the next time the urge to do something like that arose, that she wait until something bigger came by…and when something bigger did come by, to wait for something even bigger than that, and so on, till there was no longer anything bigger than what stood before her. Then…and only then, kill.
Interestng suggestion. 
Whoa... I don't know whether to happy or not! 
-----signature-----
Any way youll never know
The many ways I've tried
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NYCitygurl
Title: Manager of SFFBC, C&G, and NSWFF
Registered:
Jul '02
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Date Posted:
12/25/07 9:56am
Subject:
RE: The Wise - CH 12: Wild Flower
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Yeah, that would really suck. I never thought of it, though, because I can't spell
Awesome chapter!! I think this is my favorite. I love her history and I thuoght it was sweet that she cried and prayed for the beings she'd killed.
Though I'm really sad that Mouse is dead 
Anyway, way cool chapter 
-----signature-----
"Not till the moon falls. Not till the world ends."
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BigE
Registered:
Jul '02
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Date Posted:
1/3 11:16am
Subject:
RE: The Wise - CH 12: Wild Flower
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That bit of history and further background on Averus was fantastic.
But I must say that I'm suprised that someone who did and felt this way:
Tira, she prayed each and every night for the animals she’d killed so long ago. And every night she promised to never again do that to any living creature, no matter how big or small. Not with her own hands. Never with her own hands, or with her own Force. She would never break another living thing that way, ever again. But…to bend it as far as it could go…now that...
She lived for that.
Would choose an heir whose critical act for making that choice (including the tell-tale expression the boy wore afterward) is murder.
I'm confoosed.
But again, that was a great chapter.
-----signature-----
Aha! That's it. Hold it right there.
Pronoun trouble.
It's not "he doesn't have to shoot YOU now," it's "he doens't have to shoot ME now."
Well I say he DOES have to shoot me now!! So shoot me now!
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1Yodimus_Prime
Registered:
Mar '04
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Date Posted:
1/3 8:16pm
Subject:
RE: The Wise - CH 12: Wild Flower
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Lanna: "I'm not sure whether her preference to bend people instead of braking them is commendable. It's probably harder for those she bent."
I wouldn't commend it. But at least now you know she has a moral center, warped and perverted though it may be. It's always been my belief that no evil person in history has ever considered themselves – even at their most truthful and serious – to actually be evil. It's that deep separation of personal perception and objective actions that makes these people so terrible, because they honestly believe they're doing something good.
Leona: I'm happy that you found her history interesting. I'll note that there is much more, but I'm only going to touch on the rest during the course of the next chapter. The events of the present are, of course, far more important in the long run.
Darth Pyre's comment was a small attempt by Tira's eventual Master to give the girl a lesson in how to be ambitious. Clearly, the lesson failed. Then again, it's a lesson that Averus remembered well. So who knows.
NYCG: Ah. Lucky for me, then. 
I'm glad that you thought it was sweet. I hate the idea that every Sith Lord is a potential Hitler, simply by virtue of being a Sith Lord.
BIGe: I hope there isn't too much confoosion.
It is true. Averus refuses to kill.
In nearly the same breath, she allowed her cousin to poison her mother.
Clearly, her idea of murder has a very narrow and strict definition.
The next chapter shall go up next week.
Still settling back into the groove right now.
-----signature-----
Rule 12: A soft answer turneth away wrath. Once wrath is looking the other way, shoot it in the head. --- http://boards.theforce.net/b/b1/26481069 - The Wise http://boards.theforce.net/B/b1/21283317 - Planet Hopping
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raisedbywolves
Registered:
Jul '05
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Date Posted:
1/4 3:18pm
Subject:
RE: The Wise - CH 12: Wild Flower
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I love this story. Loved "Uaverus"'s name and the way that she disguised herself from her Master on the HoloNet. I adore the way she deals with her rivals.
This is the best Sith story I've ever read!
-----signature-----
What She Saw: http://boards.theforce.net/Before_the_Saga/b10475/21886008/?0 Proud (if erstwhile) padawan to Master Darth Pixel. It's not Darth Real Life, actually - I prefer to think of it as my very demanding Jedi Master.
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1Yodimus_Prime
Registered:
Mar '04
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Date Posted:
1/4 11:51pm
Subject:
RE: The Wise - CH 12: Wild Flower
- Date Edited:
1/4 11:51pm (1 edits total)
Edited By:
1Yodimus_Prime
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Raisedby: Yeah, I'll bet Averus would get along really well with your Möirilh Kmtschtk.
..either that, or they'd hate each other. That's usually how it goes.
Seeing as the only other Sith story I know of is the painfully mediocre Darth Bane novel that was released...I happily accept your compliment, knowing full well how low that bar is set. One day a genius will delve into this dark corner of the galaxy..and THEN we shall see where 'best' is, won't we?
But till then, thanks!
-----signature-----
Rule 12: A soft answer turneth away wrath. Once wrath is looking the other way, shoot it in the head. --- http://boards.theforce.net/b/b1/26481069 - The Wise http://boards.theforce.net/B/b1/21283317 - Planet Hopping
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1Yodimus_Prime
Registered:
Mar '04
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Date Posted:
1/12 1:17am
Subject:
RE: The Wise - CH 13: The Many Scions of Greed
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I know this is long – it's actually the longest chapter you've seen in this story so far – but there was no way I could break it up, it's too interweaved with itself. The final chapter is actually longer than this..but I'll be able to break that one up. This one...you guys'll just have to muscle through it. There there. Chin up. Down the hatch now.
Scion (sí' on) –
1. A descendant or heir.
2. A detached shoot of a woody plant, containing two or more buds, to be used in grafting. As distinguished from a cutting, which will be rooted, a scion is inserted in a stock (a living plant). When scion and stock have been completely united, the buds of the scion will continue to produce growth similar to that of the plant from which it was cut, not that of the stock onto which it was grafted.
Chapter 13: The Many Scions of Greed
When Baroness Tira Sarogga first learned about her Master’s death, her reaction was to continue her lawn party. They were celebrating her winning a second term as Deputy President, after all. Pretty important stuff.
Five years went by.
Five years passed with nothing. She ended her second term and stepped down. At thirty-two, her political career had ended before most people’s even began. The government honored her as the youngest human to ever hold office, and she prominently displayed the plaque in the main foyer of her largest mansion.
To pass the time, she started a set of charity foundations to siphon funds to useful crime syndicates under the government’s nose. Most fizzled out. She fought to expand the eastern portion of the Sarogga estate, which was landlocked by a protected Wildlife Reserve. She won, and now had an entire mountain and forest to herself.
Except, that’s all she did. Stuff to pass the time. Five years after Darth Pyre The Warlord was killed attempting to make Neimoidia the center of the galaxy, and all Tira had to show for it was a twelve square mile expansion of land.
Meanwhile her former aide, a smartly dressed, handsome young man a few years older than she, began courting her. This happened to her constantly. Tira had become very good at dashing all their hopes, preferring distance to involvement. She liked being impartial when she picked you apart. But this, this was different.
She had made sure, while Deputy President, that all her aides were Force Sensitive. She believed it would give them some kind of common ground to build a rapport with, so she wouldn’t look unapproachable to the media. It didn’t work, and most remained coldly professional, in spite of their shared abilities. But now, after all that, one of them – the most attractive no less – was coming to her with essentially the same desire.
So, for the first time in her life, Tira let herself fall in love. One night, carefully chosen, she told him everything. The look on his face was priceless. Shortly after, he became her first Apprentice. Darth Venge. To celebrate, she finally dropped the silent ‘U’ from the spelling of her name, tossed away along with the ice in her heart.
Their plans were impaired by their passion. They would marry in the summer. Together, they would consolidate every single ambiguous detail about the Sith Order, and create a secret library on a distant world. Together, they would galvanize the Sith, so that later generations – their offspring – would have the knowledge to remake their Order into the expansive image of Glory it once had. They would be the parents and grandparents and great-grandparents of Sith Masters, and one day that dynasty would have the world.
It lasted two years.
By the time Tira learned about the other women, it no longer mattered. They were just the cake decoration. Alone, such a transgression would have been forgivable. Heavens knew she did the same thing when a newer servant struck her fancy. What killed it all was what she discovered inside the hidden compartment in Venge’s study. Seed killers. One-time-use contraceptives. But in his study? Why not in his office in the Capitol, or in a compartment in his speeder? Why at home?
Because they were for use around her. All that talk about kids, and it was nothing more than a lie. Their entire relationship was built on a lie. When Tira finally confronted Venge, somewhere where she knew he couldn’t escape without going through her, he told her…
Darth Venge told her, flat out,
“Because, Master, I don’t want your worthless genes in my child.”
***
His world was shattered. Everything that comprised the boy’s sense of safety, of stability in his life, it was all destroyed in a second. Like a house of cards, it collapsed with Lady Averus’s simple words. With a few dismissive thoughts out of her mouth, it was all undone and swept away. Only moments ago, he’d been in a desperate race away from that tree and that thing, looking toward Averus and her cabin as a place of sanctuary.
But his Master had said, “I have been teaching both you and her in tandem, without telling either of you.”, and burned his fictional sanctuary to the ground.
Just like that. Like it was nothing. And now, now that…that monster had claim to her.
Averus was HIS! HE was supposed to be her Apprentice! Nobody else should have known! Should even be allowed to know! IT’S NOT FAIR! IT’S NOT FAIR!
But he was too shocked to throw a tantrum. He wouldn’t have known how to, anyway. All he could do was watch as that killer, that evil monster, that sick freak talked to Lady Averus like they were close friends. He didn’t know what he said in response, but doubted it helped any. Or that they even bothered to listen to the little boy who didn’t matter. He never felt so abandoned in his life. His foot hurt like hell.
Clearly, this girl and Averus shared something he could never share with her. What, he couldn’t imagine. Whatever it was, they could keep it. He wanted nothing to do with that, or her, ever again. All their trust. Their Trust. That shared trust he and she had worked so long and so hard to build, it was gone. They could keep it.
Which meant he really was alone. He’d been alone before, many times: when he left the monks, when he was enslaved, when he roamed the streets of Dolus, when he first started working at that sweatshop. But all those times, he always felt there was something better waiting for him, somewhere. He just had to look hard enough. But what could ever be a step up from this? This woman was quite possibly the most powerful being in the galaxy. There would not be a ‘something better’ this time. He was losing his last chance, and maybe Averus had been playing him the whole time, just stringing him along for…for what? The hell of it? To be nothing more than a crappy test for her pet over there? Who knows.
He looked up at Lady Averus, at the face he once thought he understood. This woman was the closest thing to a mother he ever had. Yet she had been nothing of the sort. Had it been an invention of his mind? Had he been that in need, that he had completely misinterpreted four years of his life? For one sick moment, the boy could honestly imagine he was that pathetic. It made him want to give up. It made him despair.
It made him despair, and Averus saw.
What she did then, it didn’t even matter. His head still spun sickeningly and his stomach still twisted and his shoe was filling with blood, but even all that paled in comparison to the shattered pieces of his life that were being kicked at him. So her aggression, that burning light, he could barely feel it. It was as though, the moment the purple-blue arcs touched him, he went numb. Or maybe he was already numb. It didn’t matter.
His body told him to collapse and curl up, so he did. It told him to scream, so he probably did that too. Whatever. It didn’t matter. Kill me. Just kill me or let me die. I just want to go away. You don’t care about me, so let me! Kill me. If you don’t care, kill me. He would have said it out loud, but the lightning burned his words to ash before they even left his throat.
***
She would have killed Venge right there, but they had guests in the house. It would have been a fight, and even at that moment Tira still had just enough self-control to put secrecy above rage.
Instead, Tira took her rage with her to Ferros VI, the planet upon which she’d exiled Lorrine – the cousin who poisoned her mother. She didn’t know why she chose that place, only that she absolutely had to get off Dolus for a while. She had to get away from Venge. She had to clear her mind, and it had to be done somewhere where there weren’t many people. Somewhere with zero people, in fact. Preferably somewhere as cold and lonely and angry as she felt. Somewhere exactly like Ferros VI. So maybe she did know why.
There was no place Tira knew of in the galaxy more cold and lonely and angry. Beyond the cold, desert-ridden equator - where the few tribes dwelt - it was nothing but monstrous trees with thick broad leaves on massive gnarled branches holding metric tons of snow above the parched, dark-enshrouded ground. Where there weren’t endless forests of gluttonous trees, there were mountains of solid ice, ranging in every direction like bulging blue veins.
You could count the number of species surviving there on one hand, and not a single one of them was carnivorous. Nature didn’t need carnivores here. The lifeforms here had enough to defend themselves against without having to worry about predators. The environment was sufficient.
Tira didn’t expect Lorrine to still be alive. Exiling her to this place had been nothing short of a death sentence. But she thought it was her duty - what with the girl’s father terminally ill and her mother in a mental asylum - to at least find and bury whatever remained, while she was there to do it. Lorrine might have been the one who murdered Tira’s mother, but it was a murder that Tira had allowed to happen. Without her prompting, the girl may have never even attempted such a thing. The least she could do was pay her respects.
Surprisingly, Tira found her cousin’s body along with her spirit, huddled in a cave by a small fire, wrapped in rags made from the fur of a native animal. With the constant, ceaseless gales, Lorrine probably expended all her energy just keeping the fire going so she wouldn’t freeze to death. Assuming she got enough to eat each day, which she must have, somehow, or she’d be dead. It confirmed Tira’s theory that dealing with the Sarogga clan easily translated to the kill-or-be-killed philosophy of primitive beasts. But all jokes aside, it didn’t explain how someone as fragile and pampered as Lorrine had managed to make the switch to a constant life of survival.
A year less than a decade, and the woman still lived. Interesting.
She seemed almost gaunt in Tira’s first appraisal. Withered. This girl wrapped in thick, bulky furs, beyond shivering, hugging her meager fire. Yet her eyes told the story of a survivor. Her face looked weathered and rough, but she managed a smirk easily. Her hands appeared chapped and brittle, but she greeted her older cousin by throwing a punch that nearly broke Tira’s jaw. Ferros VI may have been a constant oppressor, but it had most certainly not taken the fight out of her. It gave Tira an idea.
“I take it you’re still angry?” Tira asked, spitting blood into Lorrine’s little fire, hoping to provoke her.
“If you expect me to forgive you, just because you’ve come to set me free, you’re an idiot.”
“Why Lorr! Who said I came here to save you?!” Tira laughed. Lorrine despaired.
Lorrine began to feel her throat tighten. A distant, dreadful rumbling filled her ears as breathing quickly became impossible. Tira slowly shrank the distance between her fingers, studying her cousin’s response with an air of disinterest. A false air. Tira was scared to death. If her test failed, if her hunch was wrong then her cousin would die, and this time it would truly be her fault.
But Lorrine fought back, just as she expected. Not physically, but through the Force. She’d read about this, that Sensitivity was at least partially due to genetics. It was a dangerous way to prove it but she had no other way, and it worked. Here was someone with the toughness of a Sith Lord already in her. She was perfect.
None of that sleazy double-speak political crap in this one. No self-aggrandizing narcissism. That power was false, it was fabricated. Her’s is not. Whatever it is Darth Venge is looking for in his mate, he’ll never find it, because he doesn’t even know what a Sith Lord is supposed to be. But Lorr does, and she doesn’t even know what the Sith are. That is power. Venge was a mistake. He will not happen again.
Lorrine took the name Darth Ferros. Chose it on her own, refusing to kneel or even be touched by the older woman. Darth Ferros. Tira couldn’t guess what the planet had done to her, that she felt so deeply connected to it. Lorrine was certainly never going to tell her, that was for sure. When they returned, she elected to kill Venge as her first act as a Lord of the Sith. Tira didn’t even have to ask. It was as though Lorrine automatically knew having more than two Sith Lords was unnatural.
His death, Darth Ferros reported, was swift.
Tira was unmoved, “I’m happy to hear you’ve gotten more humane in how you kill the people I love.”
“If you loved him….hell, if you loved him or your mother, then I would be dead. So don’t try to, to…to disparage me with a lie.” Remembering all those old pretentious words Lorrine used to use so easily, it was a slow process. Speaking no longer came naturally to her now, after Ferros VI.
Tira let the silence build a somber mood for them, that her response might be taken more seriously: “I did love him. And my mother. I truly did. Believe me I did.”
“Well,” Lorrine flicked her hair off a shoulder. She would keep it waist-length for the rest of her life, as a reminder of the time when even something as simple as a pair of scissors was above her means, “in that case,” she looked Tira square in her eyes, “I hope you never love me...
…for your love is poison.”
***
Lady Averus loves the girl, she loves her more than she loves me. Maybe she doesn’t love me at all. My Master loves the girl more, and I hate her for it.
I hate her and I want to hurt her. The boy breathed snow-chilled air, smelling thickly of the sediment of clouds. His cheek was numb against the carpet-soft ice, his wet clothes frosting over, making him shake violently. Averus said something in his direction, but his ears still rang from the sound of the lightning. All he knew was that, when he opened his eyes, a vibroblade was sticking out of the ground, right within his reach.
One just like it, he once saw used to kill a bully he’d personally dragged out of the sweatshop one night. A rough street kid took it out, flashed it triumphantly, like a toy trophy, and after the stupid bully was given a chance to yield and run away – a chance he declined in favor of saying rude things about the street kid’s mother – it was stabbed deep into his gut. The street kid then, with an insane gleam in his eye, slid it all the way up, gutting him as easily as unzipping a package. Then the kid laughed, like it was a joke.
Ten had made sure that particular street kid was never involved with their affairs, ever again. But the experience gave him a sobering respect for the weapons. He never reacted quite the same way again, when he heard the unmistakable hum of a vibroblade.
With a click, the simple depression of his index finger, he heard that hum. There was no visible effect in the blade itself, but he watched in distant, barely-conscious wonder, as all the snow around it melted away as if by magic. The grip was warm in his hand. He held it tighter.
I want to hurt her, I want to hurt her feelings so she feels like I do. So I’ll kill someone she loves. So I’ll kill the girl. Then she’ll know. Then Lady Averus will understand, and she’ll love me again.
With all his strength, he forced himself up. Soon, as his muscles woke back up after going haywire, as his adrenaline got pumping again, he would have much more strength to spare. He would need it all. He turned his head to stare at his prey, and at that exact moment, his prey knew it was prey. It fled. He followed.
***
Even as Darth Ferros, Lorrine kept her word. She never forgave her Master for exiling her on that terrible planet. At the same time, her fascination with it was almost never-ending. Every moment of free time was a moment spent either traveling there to visit, or looking through explorer’s notes about it. And she had plenty of free time. Tira was at a loss as to how best to teach her. Strength and endurance training was right out. Lorrine had been through enough of that to last twenty lifetimes. On top of that, she had absolutely no interest in dueling. In fact, she found the very idea of the lightsaber to be hideous and distasteful. Tira was not prepared for a Force-only lesson plan, but she did her best.
That is, she did her best while also keeping in mind that everything she taught Lorrine, every single thing, was immediately being added to an ever more realistic plan for revenge. To that end, Tira made sure she never kept tabs on the girl. Lorr had to believe she had room to maneuver. Meanwhile, she searched out all of Lorrine’s old friends, bought them off, then made sure to never speak to a single one of them again. It was a trick Tira had learned from politics: The more you learn about your enemy, the less you must seem to know. Tira put all her spy programs in the girl’s friends’ computers.
Lorrine began bending her efforts toward constructing a permanent base of operations there, on Ferros VI. In tandem, she was sending explorers out to find planets similar to Ferros VI. New planets in new systems with new dangers. Lorrine claimed each one for the Sith, and planted a symbol of Ferros VI on its surface like a flag. Tira had only just picked out Wayland as a proper location for the Library that Venge would never see built, and here was Lorrine going off on completely unrelated ventures. Not only that, the cousin took all Tira’s labor forces with her. The Wayland Compound would have to wait. It was almost as though her new Apprentice knew exactly what buttons to push.
This vendetta would not be dropped. Even distracted, even when all could be anticipated and every move was known in advance, Lorrine still found a way to piss her off. She was good.
***
The boy was out of tricks. He didn’t care. He had nothing left but raw determination. A raw determination to make Lady Averus pay for not loving him. She would know how it felt, how it felt to lose a connection you thought you had, knowing you’ll never get it back, never be able to fix it, never be able to replace it. And not just this time. The boy wasn’t even thinking about killing the girl now. In his mind, that deed was already done. What he was thinking about now was who else Averus had shown affection to. Whoever it was, that person would die. And the next person, and the next person. Again and again. And again. Five, fifty, two hundred, ten thousand times over would not be enough to make her know. To make her experience what she had done to him.
In his faintness, in his pain, in his hate, he found strength. Chasing the girl was hard, but the line was straight. Anything requiring him to think would be impossible, but he could follow a straight line. All lines end. The canyon would end them quick. The line would end and so would she.
The vibroblade hummed in such a way that it felt like there wasn’t anything protruding from the hilt. That was dangerous. He could slice open his leg and not even know it. He turned it off. The weight adjusted itself, became real. Just a plain ol’ knife now. Just like the girl had. Even match.
No. If I stab her through the foot and dump her headfirst off a tree. Crack her ribs. Break her shoulder. Electrocute her till the hairs on her forearms burn off. If I kill her mother while she watches, so there’s no one left to love her. Then it’s an even match.
Hm.
She did fall off a tree.
…If I let her blind my eye. Sleep alone in the cold. If I train for a fight to the death under Averus’s guidance, but she leaves out that my opponent is Force-sensitive, ruining my first and perhaps only chance at doing it right. If I let the girl humiliate me, by stabbing me in the leg with my own weapon. If I live in fear of failure, every day of my life…
Maybe this wasn’t as fair as he thought.
Her footsteps ceased. A haze of purple light warned him that he was near a break in the trees. A distant roar told him the Western Canyon lay just ahead. Her path had died. The girl was trapped. End of the line.
***
What Tira’s cousin did as a Sith Lord, what machinations she had set in motion, what hidden schemes had been put in place like kranth traps, what dark plans meant to undo all that had been built up…Tira could not know for sure. She would find some. Many would likely never even happen. But it would only take one. One bolt, one mislabeled poison bottle, one assassin with one less thing to live for. Just one. Out of countless hundreds of tricks, just one.
After Lorrine’s death, her specter lived on in this everlasting paranoia. Finding her encrypted diary, written in the old style on wood pulp flimsies using a black dye marker (something so primitive, no technology could catch it), only made things worse. Now she knew the sheer volume of hate Lorrine had maintained for her. Now she knew, reading it through, how truly devious the use of that hate had been. That Lorrine did not have to be alive to trouble Tira, as herself or Darth Ferros, only affirmed this.
Lorrine met her end while doing exactly what Tira imagined would kill her: scheming. An underhanded plan to kill the top aide to the Supreme Chancellor himself. The reason for this, Tira was never really certain. Supposedly, “Senator Ferros” would then replace the top aide in a trusted and respected position in the Republic, thus…
Thus, something. How being an aide would take down millennia of solidarity, Tira hadn’t a clue. She doubted that Lorrine had really known for sure either – she had been greedy and spiteful, not intelligent. In fact, not thinking it through probably lent to the mistake that cost her life.
A minor distraction, an overzealous act at underling clumsiness, a silly misstep. The acid bottle broke on the tray. She hugged the tray on instinct. The carefully prepared sticky paste covered her instantly. That was all it took. She died literally, the way she lived figuratively: with something dark and unremovable burning slowly to her core.
Tira did not waste time. As soon as she could, she hunted out the next closest family member who was Force Sensitive. The next closest girl. Darth Ferros had been close to what she was looking for, and she didn’t want to mess up a good pattern. Secretly, she knew that after what happened with Darth Venge, she would never bear to give a man her Apprenticeship. He would be the first and the last.
This second-cousin, while from the polar regions of Dolus, and from a segment of their family that was not so privileged, turned out to be more emotionally fragile than expected. After a couple months of Tira’s brand of training, the girl broke. Bad. One early morning, Tira walked into the girl’s room to get her ready for another day of hard work, and found the entire place a mess, and the girl pressed back-first against a corner, scratching at the wallpaper, face covered in tears, screaming incoherently like a dying animal. The girl had cut Tira’s own rebukes, word-for-word, into her arms in legs, presumably with a piece of shattered glass. A complete mental breakdown. Tira sent her to live with Lorrine’s schizophrenic mother in the mental asylum.
She broadened her scope beyond family, but it would not help. Two more girls met a similar fate. Another slit her wrists while hiding, fearing the wrath of Darth Averus even as she bled to death. Another attempted to hang herself, but Tira caught her and cut the rope. Later she got it right, waiting until the woman was off-planet to do it. Two more simply died of exposure during ordeals on Ferros VI.
It was disappointing, but none of this phased Tira (other than the deaths which, as always, broke her heart). Some people just weren’t cut out to be Sith Lords. But somebody had to be. Finding the right student was simply a matter of patience, and being a little more careful with whom she selected. With time, it would happen. And she had plenty of time.
Forty-five was still young. She had time.
***
In a young, brilliant mind plagued with churning winds of turmoil, rage falling in torrents, and thundering distractions, a storm had reached its eye. A short moment of clarity. A reprieve which he could covet and smother like a child does a stuffed toy, or swiftly and methodically utilize the way an adult does a meaningless tool. He was just barely smart enough and cold enough to choose the latter, and it gave him pause.
Lady Averus is not ancient and wise; she is old and dying. She’s gotta be over ninety by now. Why do I care what she loves, when she will be dead soon anyway? Why am I doing this? I’m about to kill someone. I’m about to kill a human being; I’m about to take a life. Why? I can’t even forgive myself for killing the Overseer. I can’t even live with that and it was justified, it was self-defense. This is not self-defense, this is…this is nothing. Why am I actually doing this?!?
The girl lay at his feet, shuddering with the terror of someone who has found herself powerless at exactly the wrong moment. Blood poured from a deep wound in the arm she had just used to protect herself from his first attack. Her knife had been dropped, and subsequently kicked off the edge. He was seconds away from turning his vibroblade on, so that bone would no longer be an obstacle. Seconds.
But in that small window of clarity, she no longer looked like a monster, like a beast. On the ground, feet sliding through the dirt and snow to put distance between them, shoulders hunched to her ears to protect her neck, no longer wanting to look him in the eye…afraid. Just a girl. Just a girl, anywhere from twelve to fourteen. Just a little girl.
Like I’m a little boy?
Seconds away.
If she’s not a monster, then I’m not allowed to be a monster either. Because aren’t we the same? Without Lady Averus, where would we be? Would we be friends in some classroom passing notes? Would we be regular kids, having fun and doing whatever it is regular kids are supposed to do? That would be nice…whatever it is.
Seconds. Those churning winds of his mind picked up.
Or would we still be killing, just somewhere else, without the Force to guide us? Because we could also both be monsters. That’s a possibility too.
Seconds. The turmoil of confusion was becoming anger, would soon return to rage.
The boy nodded at the distance to give her a heads-up, and she stopped retreating. The canyon’s edge was centimeters away from her. He stepped closer. Her breathing sped up. She would not jump. She would face him down till the last breath escaped her lungs. He knew it the moment her eyes flicked up to his. That murderous glint began to return. Fight or flight. Except she never really learned “flight,” did she?
A second.
He raised the vibroblade, making her flinch – possibly for the first time in years – and tossed it off the cliff. He cleared his throat, focusing on the words, making sure they came out clear, making sure they could be said within a second:
“There,” he said, “Fair fight.”
-----signature-----
Rule 12: A soft answer turneth away wrath. Once wrath is looking the other way, shoot it in the head. --- http://boards.theforce.net/b/b1/26481069 - The Wise http://boards.theforce.net/B/b1/21283317 - Planet Hopping
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MsLanna
Title: CR GSFF Central
Registered:
Jul '05
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Date Posted:
1/14 9:55am
Subject:
RE: The Wise - CH 13: The Many Scions of Greed
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Wow, another intense chapter. [face_goose_pimples]
I like the trial an error attempt Averus has with her apprentices. Not that it makes her any more agreeable, I just like it.
And the parts about the boy in there, sneaky genius I'd say. She has broken him quickly in the way that took years for her. No love, because it's poison. I think that is a lesson he will exploit much later in his life. 
-----signature-----
Padawan owned by Corellian_Ale Master of CloneCaptainRex. Proud FanFic Master of Darth_Sathanos Why so serious? Master of baritonejedi
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BigE
Registered:
Jul '02
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Date Posted:
1/18 7:12am
Subject:
RE: The Wise - CH 13: The Many Scions of Greed
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That was an absolutely awesome chapter.
Darth Venge told her, flat out,
“Because, Master, I don’t want your worthless genes in my child.”
Sheesh! Worthless genes? Who does this guy think he is, anyway?
I loved the Tira/Lorrine portion of the chapter – the character development, history, etc. The description of Ferros was a very nice touch.
Ten’s anguish was palpable:
I want to hurt her, I want to hurt her feelings so she feels like I do. So I’ll kill someone she loves. So I’ll kill the girl. Then she’ll know. Then Lady Averus will understand, and she’ll love me again.
If he didn’t have to chase Mouse down, he surely would have struck her down, but he had time to dwell upon their shared circumstance. I do wonder how this face-off will end!
Lastly, the repeated failed attempts at finding an apprentice was pretty cool, especially to the degree of failure. I’ve never read of such an exhaustive attempt to find a successful heir – I rather liked that a good deal of trial-and-error was at play. It added a sense of realism – that even a Sith Master would be expected to have difficulty in finding a suitable student.
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Aha! That's it. Hold it right there.
Pronoun trouble.
It's not "he doesn't have to shoot YOU now," it's "he doens't have to shoot ME now."
Well I say he DOES have to shoot me now!! So shoot me now!
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Healer_Leona
Registered:
Jul '00
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Date Posted:
1/18 10:56am
Subject:
RE: The Wise - CH 13: The Many Scions of Greed
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I had to read that twice to get what was going on when.
Intense is right!!
-----signature-----
Any way youll never know
The many ways I've tried
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Persephone_Kore
Registered:
Jan '06
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Date Posted:
1/18 1:05pm
Subject:
RE: The Wise - CH 13: The Many Scions of Greed
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Ooh.
This is intriguing.
I read this chapter before realizing I had missed a few, but I think it was just as compelling this way. I am very curious what happens next in this fair fight--I begin to wonder if we (and Averus) were mistaken about the meaning of the light in Ten's eyes.
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1Yodimus_Prime
Registered:
Mar '04
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Date Posted:
1/19 1:21am
Subject:
RE: The Wise - CH 13: The Many Scions of Greed
- Date Edited:
1/19 1:25am (1 edits total)
Edited By:
1Yodimus_Prime
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Lanna: she's efficient, and she knows what she's doing, that's for sure. But the galaxy's a big place. Hundreds of trillions of people. Ya can't win 'em all.
...what would a goose-pimpled face look like??
BigE: Sheesh! Worthless genes? Who does this guy think he is, anyway?
A fool, apparently. There're so many things in this chapter that I had to force myself to gloss over, because I didn't have the time to tell it. He's one of those things.
I liked Lorrine too, because she sort of serves as a prototype of what Averus finds with Mouse. But at the same time, being an extreme, she also embodies all the faults of that type. Ideally, Mouse should have none of those faults.
Leona: You read it twice? See, now that's the kind of dedication I can only ever aspire to.
Going into this chapter, I was worried that the Boy's segments would be disorienting, because they're not set in the 'present' but rather in the incredibly recent past.
Hopefully, it wasn't too confusing?
Persphone: Well it's nice to hear that this chapter can stand on its own!
I am very curious what happens next in this 'fair fight'
- heh, well then I suggest you read the previous chapter, wherein I've already revealed the outcome.
And in the following chapter, we'll be seeing where that outcome takes us.
I'll be making that post sometime early next week.
Possibly as early as monday. But no later than Tuesday.
And the final chapter will be up a week after that.
Then I'll wait two weeks from then and post the epilogue.
That'll be the tentative schedule for now.
We'll see how it goes.
-----signature-----
Rule 12: A soft answer turneth away wrath. Once wrath is looking the other way, shoot it in the head. --- http://boards.theforce.net/b/b1/26481069 - The Wise http://boards.theforce.net/B/b1/21283317 - Planet Hopping
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Persephone_Kore
Registered:
Jan '06
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Date Posted:
1/19 1:09pm
Subject:
RE: The Wise - CH 13: The Many Scions of Greed
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Mm, my apologies for being unclear. I did read the previous chapter.
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