Do You Fear Me [Squee]

By what means drives a thinking thing? Is it instinct, as so many claim? No. Instinct is animalistic, to which so many reject for conscious, logical thought. Instinct was like sex, carnal pleasure. Flesh body, given the right moment, knew just what went where and how to drive wanted reactions in response to animal sounds. Instinct was survival of the fittest. In such a case, people did not have instinct, just as they lacked common sense. Why couldn’t survival be implemented into daily galactic life? So many more people would be dead and I would not be as annoyed as I become. Foolish, stupid people who don’t deserve to reproduce.

To the original question… Instinct is not the drive. Why would I go someplace? Like, why would I take the chance to go to Zeltros? Deep down… there’s a crave. There’s a want. Why did I go? I knew that I could. I can go there. Why can I go there? I crave to go there, minor or major, there’s a craving, a want. Why do I kill someone? I want to relieve the galaxy of an air robber. Why do I pit people against each other? I want to see a fight. Why have the Sith formulated? Because they want to eliminate the Jedi. Why do men go to brothels? They want sex. Sentient thought is based on want, and want alone. One does things based on want.

If I wanted to go out of my room, I can and will. If I want to lay in bed, I can and will. Can is an expression of ability. I CAN do something because I WANT to.

This must occur in both conscious and unconscious thought. I certainly, somewhere in me, want to think about Zeltros. I want to think of the man with the hypnotizing eyes. I want to be curious about him. Now, what about a why to the want? Why do I want a why to the want? What is explanation is there? I’m centered around want. It’s my drive. I will be curious about the man with the hypnotizing eyes. I want to find him again. There was something behind those eyes other than utter blankness. There wasn’t stupidity, like what filled ninety-eight percent of those fools that passed me that night.

Tesa stared at herself in the mirror, hands braced against the wall. Golden eyes stared back at her, inquisitive and alive, made of small crystals that surrounded dark pupils. Beneath her eyes, a small and claw-shaped bands, the color of a bruise, stretched faintly. Her weight shifted and Tesa drew a finger beneath one of her eyes. She really didn’t care. She had ship-lag. Up until about forty-eight hours ago, long blond hair had occupied her thoughts. Long blond hair and his spying minions. She had dodged the minions long and quick enough, scooting them down a couple of false paths, in order to escape and return to the Sith Temple. If her little kitty-cat knew the extent of her abilities, Tesa believed she would use his respect.

With this other man floating around in her brain, she was sure that case did not apply. Not only had he looked so different, but his presence tasted so different and so very unique. Many people felt the same, tasted the same bland flavor. Her blond kitty had a nice spicy flare, but he did not have the explosion of citrus to accompany that taste. The encounter, a mere look across the way, had Tesa thoroughly convinced he was Force sensitive and his eyes, that toxic gaze she couldn’t be rid of, told her he was one of the few above all else.

But, there was one thing Tesa could not understand. His fear. She was very susceptible to fear, in the fact that she could sense it. Rage and hatred and all things wicked could try to be barricades, but Tesa knew that deep down, so very deep down, people had a nasty, cruel and horrible thing called fear. Fear, as she learned early on, was the tool to controlling a being without direct force. All that needed to be done was unearth a being’s fears, turn those fears against themselves, show them their horrors and nightmares with such strength that they writhed and screamed. Driven so far into their fear, no rage would be able to disrupt it. It would be them and their monsters, and they would be pushed to madness just to be rid of their terrors. The twisting and squirming and shrieking, so afraid that it was their own agony, so deep and so rooted that the shrieking of her victim was energized and alive, like a splash of cool water across a drowsy face. It was refreshing and invigorating. She knew she was in control.

And she liked to be in control.

Tesa, however, did not like the fear to be directed at her. She was a mere mortal, a thing of flesh and blood and bone, and could not be the most feared creature. She was a thing of the real. It was the unknown horrors that tripped and tricked the brain to release spasms a nerve scuttling throughout a being’s body. Tesa had fears herself and therefore understood what it was like to fear something. Some people got a kick at another fear focused on them and them alone, as it gave them a sense of power. Tesa knew, though, she knew that if fear was directed to a true, real, flesh thing that anger or desperation could strike at any moment and sink long fangs, pump out a killing venom, and leave that natural flesh to die.

For example, if Tesa were to make someone afraid of her, that fear could turn into anger and that anger to rage and that rage to hatred to the point that instead of her fear controlling the person, it was their hatred. That person was likely to rise up and give Vengence’s war cry, rebel against her control. She would be overthrown. Why? She was natural. She was real. Fear was directed her. To prevent rebellion, Tesa could not have that fear narrowed into her. That was why Tesa always influenced the mind to turn them against one another. That was why she orchestrated everything so no one knew of her true intentions or plans, and only one with a thoughtful, active, noting mind would understand just exactly she was doing. A mind that was no less than her newfound assassin’s. To prevent attraction to her and to have others fear other objects meant Tesa could, and would, keep herself alive and well behind the scenes, which were the very shadows where she liked to play.

And since she had been doing such, she grown accustomed to focused terror onto another subject. In fact, she probably enjoyed it more than it was of herself. Tesa, more than half the time, didn’t want the fear to be toward her. No, no. Then she could not be their friend, the one who dispelled their nightmares and made them calm again. Tesa usually wanted a friend every so often.

So, the man with the mesmerizing eyes stood out to her because he had been afraid. Afraid of what? Afraid of her. Why? It stuck to the inside of Tesa’s mind like gluey gunk. Why? Why, why, why, why? It was slightly unnerving, to be the target of fear. It made her more aware and keener of her actions. Maybe she had slipped up on something. Maybe he had been a witness to something she had performed before. Could he know? Possibly. Tesa had left the man be when he had fled though. She hadn’t seen him since.

She curled the end of her hair and pulled it, then released it. The natural wave in her dark hair made it spring back up. Tesa smirked, then angled her gaze to peer at her torso in the mirror. The clothes she wore yesterday… Yesterday? Was it yesterday? No, it wasn’t, couldn’t have been. More like early morning when the birds weren’t fit to tweet. Two or three in the morning to Korriban. They were wrinkled. While Tesa felt dirty enough to take a shower, she knew she actually wasn’t, having bathed an hour or two before landing. She’d only had a short sleep.

With a click of her tongue and a quick hum, Tesa crossed the room. Insanus quickly lit to life by her movement about the room. Almost instantly did the obnoxious avian droid begin to prattle about something. Though she waved her and told Sane to hush up, the droid ignored her. Tesa resulted to manually switching him off. She liked the droid, she really did, but as she straightened her robes, Tesa knew that the bird’s loud speech would not be so welcome in the Temple. To keep from having Sane destroyed, he needed to remain in here and dim.

Tesa adorned her favorite cloak, the one that help her slink through the halls physically unseen, and stepped into the hallway. Pulling up the hood, she set off to the right, ignoring the strange look cast upon her as she covered herself in the cloak. The further down the hall she went, the more her mottled cloak blended with the wall and shadow. When Tesa stepped away to avoid walking into someone, said someone would produce a startled leap, hard and high enough that they could leave their skin a pile on the floor. A wave of sudden stomach nausea, probably from the lag, decided for her to skip the food hall and continue on.

She suddenly craved for another food today. She wanted to digest, and digest slow, steady, and at her own pace. There was food to be eaten that would satisfy any hunger for a long time. She had several extreme whys floating in her head, and she wanted to seek answers. All answers were obtained through research of many sources, but there was one starting place here that was provided for her. Her robe swished around the open door as she took the sharp turn. Something clattered behind her, yet another startle, but Tesa did not smirk or relish in it. She stared at the sea of information that was stretched out before her. Whether or not she found exactly what she yearned to know, Tesa suddenly did not care.

Psychology… Tesa gently pushed her hood back and walked forward to look for her subject or something similar.

Then she felt it. Or rather, she felt him. Tesa was quick to step behind a shelf, rubbing her presence thin as an automatic reaction when her heart fluttered over a beat. She peered then, taste testing the presence to make sure she had identified him correctly. While her sixth sense was useful, Tesa did not fully trust it just yet and had to confirm everything with her eyes, her secondary source. It was the man! The man with the pretty eyes! Well, she didn’t know if they were pretty or not. Her mind fell in like a puzzle, matching the man she had seen across the way with the stranger basically in front of her. Tesa noticed she was to the point of staring, a rude and obvious gesture. Tesa softened her surprised eyes to casual and returned back to her shelf. Her hand hovered, slightly curled as if disfigured, in the air as her eyes scanned, roaming, as she adopted the appearance of that was as all she had been doing.

That is, until she felt his lovely tempting eyes locked onto the side of her face. No fear. She resisted the urge to smile just then. There were many things she could do right now. Turn to meet his gaze and speak. Not turn to meet his gaze and still speak. She could simply look him in the eye as she had done on Zeltros. Tesa knew she could very well ignore the man and continue about her business, forcing him into coming to her if he so pleased. There were other possibilities too, but those forward four were the ones that flashed immediately, pulsing their statements, and fled.

The second option seemed like fun.

“Why, hello there.” Tesa dropped her arm, staring at one spot on the shelf. Her chin dropped and she looked over at the man. “Nice to see you. Again. Though I really didn’t expect the Temple to be our next meeting spot. I wouldn’t expect to see you here at all.” She eyeballed him, a creeping smirk crawling over her lips. Still no fear. The man had found a backbone. Tesa glanced at her shelf again, this time properly looking. “This is meeting number two.” She held up two fingers. “Honestly, should we separate now and meet once more, I’ll find it more significant. As they do say, anything repeated three or more times if truly important and should be marked. But two times… on two different planets… That’s a unique feat. So tell me: What brings you?”

Still no fear. This was good. So very good.

Beings are based on want... What is it that you desire?

People are born and die everyday. It is a simple aspect of life which any organism, great or small must come to realise as a point in their life. Sometimes when the time was right, and there was an inexplicitly raw feeling of endeavour in the air and something about it made Silas feel as if he could live forever. When the time was right, and he was faced with a puzzle to which there could be no right or wrong answer to he embraced the overwhelming urge to die another day. No, it wasn’t just an urge, it was a demand which could no more be ignored than a rancor whom wished to make his presence known, or a pirate that might like a little snack on your ship. All you need was a simple desire, the power, and a feeling greater than hell itself to push you along and anything is possible. Something of the man’s presence made a ripple effect, it attested to this desire, and showed it off like a display case. No one as old as he should look like he wasn’t even thirty, and no one like him should make a resemblance of something which might make its way in real life. Still, perhaps it was this simple oddity in his appearance which changed the very introspection by which governed his life.

Finally the image of the woman seeped into his mind, and there was a sudden moment wherein he saw the true insanity in his own thoughts. There was a second when he could almost hear her scream as he smelled the rich scent of adrenaline pumping through her veins. For but a moment all of his senses weren’t just heightened, they were so perfectly in tuned with the world around him he could almost feel time itself moving about him. It was an odd feeling, but it felt perfect, and he could not deal with that. Some dreamed of perfection, strived for it, hoped for it and yet that was not Silas’ path. Weakness was borne from the ashes of perfection, and only the strong survived the marred reality of the deficient. Silas was strong, he had to be. They would remember him for it.

“…What brings you here,” The woman dared. No, not only did she dare, but she brought herself to a level beyond that which she was before. It wasn’t just the look in her eyes, or the smell on her breath anymore which brought him pleasure, but there was the reaction too. The reaction was everything.

For a second the man stood, he thought, and then the most peculiar response came from his mouth as he took a couple light steps foreword, ”What is that you see?” Slowly he began as he quirked his head to one side to examine her in a slightly different way, ”What I mean is…Well, do you see a man, or a monster?”

Perhaps, just perhaps she deserved more of a welcome. It could be the customary hello, or good morning, but in all reality the point of pleasantries had been reached. When they had met that first time they had crossed a bridge, and now there was only one choice left; stand and watch it burn. Right now he did just that as he stood to look down upon the woman with a look of passion in his eyes. It wasn’t a look which could be considered in anyway sexual, but more of a look a python might get just moments before a meal. There was a lust, but it wasn’t for the kind of flesh most men craved, and this Sith knew there was a desperate need for him to be rid of this place. To flee from it to the initiate’s own retreat wherein he could hide the world in a box, one which only contained a scalpel and a victim unwilling, or willing either way it really did not matter.

”I have been called both, and so much worse, so you will not offend me either way,” Told the man as he strode around her fickle frame, his eyes peered beyond just the appearance to see her for what she truly was. In all this clamour there was a certain feel to her, and he had to voice it, ”You smell odd, as of flowers. Perhaps it is in my mind, perhaps it isn’t, but I can tell you one thing; most of our kind do not smell of such things. That say something,”

Silas couldn’t smell anything on her, but he could feel it. Like a slight tug in the force which opened up an avenue into her true soul, a sense more accurate than the most in tune thermometer. With it he could sense something most people could not, a lightness or darkness, a morale or a burden. Either way it gauged them to their soul. Few people on this world could mask their true self, and to those people he gave a most heart-felt expression of enamour towards them. They weren’t just masters, but they were something on a level of their own which people could only truly hope to match in their dreams. Some had come along, but each was few and far between. Those were the one which were written about in the expanses of time, and he did not just mean a few words about them being born, but biographies, and books dedicated solely to them. Many had been given that right, hopefully Silas would be one of them.

”As for your question, I can tell you that I’m here for a reason. I am here for something more than just power, but there are few who would understand that,” Answered the man in a slightly cryptic way as he finished his circle around her to stand right in front of her. With a slight smirk he looked quietly at her now, awaiting a reply from here. For now he wanted to know her response, he needed to know it. Something about her screamed to be different, and he wanted to know what it was. No, he needed to know.

”What is that you see?”

“Hm?” Tesa jerked her eyes away from the shelf, once more regarding the man. The sound was genuinely questioning. She had expected the rather straight forward answers she had grown accustomed to hearing. No, not this time. He returned her question with one of his own, and one that wasn’t relative to the topic, which meant he wasn’t following a philosophical discussion plan. He had stepped toward her, giving the explanation behind his question. She mirrored his tilted head, but as if she were trying to listen to him better. Her feet shuffled her away from the shelf and then one step toward the man.

I am not afraid… A glittering and cracked clear gaze returned the man’s haunting but so very interesting looking eyes. Tesa shifted her eyes between his, curiosity in her shattered crystals that each retained a thought. Those scattered thoughts pieced together and slowly began to draw a conclusion that made way for that center, the dark void that lead to her mind. The process was lagging with constructive effort. “Do I see a man or a monster?” Tesa placed a hand on her hip, forcing back the mirage she wore around her shoulders. The question was in no way said in the form that she had not understood. It was to personalize that question for her. “Hm… Hmm, hm, hmmmm…”

He loomed over her as a predator might. The way his eyes caught hers, as they had on Zeltros, made her suspect that at any moment he would become a spitting cobra. At any moment, venom would shoot from his fangs and blind her like a fool. At any moment, he could fulfill whatever that desire was that lingered in his depth and satisfy what was plaguing his mind as he stared down at her. And it was in that particular moment that Tesa chose to produce her trademark smile but said nothing more. He had begun to move, taking a leisure stroll around her person. The hand remained defiantly stuck to her hip and Tesa held her chin up a little higher. The smile still stained her lower face. Even when he slithered about her tall figure like a creature deciding if she was a worthy meal, Tesa did not crane her neck to follow him. Instead, she looked ahead, waiting for his return in front of her. Yes, here I am. Look at me, her body language declared.

His comment about her scent was as odd as his first words. Flowers? Most ladies did aspire to smell so nice, but Tesa couldn’t recall using a product that would make her smell of flowers. Of course, she recognized a moment later that he wasn’t speaking about an outward smell. The base of her spine froze. He was looking through her to see her true self. Well, this was new. As was the gaping hole she suddenly found that was through her chest with that realization. That open area wasn’t visible to the natural eye, but it was definitely there spiritually. There was a naked feeling that accompanied the piercing x-ray vision the man suddenly had.

Yet for the love of it all, Tesa could only smirk, truly humored.

”As for your question, I can tell you that I’m here for a reason. I am here for something more than just power, but there are few who would understand that,”

“You’re a very excitable person, aren’t you?” Yes, he was, over something. “Did you know your eyes tell as much a story as your words?” A rhetorical question. Tesa’s eyes looked the man up and down with a cool, skeptical, and calculating practice. She crossed her arms, leaning back some as if to display she was enjoying herself. Ease was the primary language here. She was fluid, without missing a beat or refraining from becoming stiff. There she stood with a thoughtful chew on her lower lip.

She wished the man knew the extent of this encounter, of how she didn’t stand around and talk to the ignorant fools who wandered down the halls, vomiting how great their powers were, compulsively challenging others, and jeered about how the weaklings always backed down from a fight. For pity’s sake, there was an Order to be built here and while the dark siders will never have a solid trust built on duracrete, they should all at least stand on sandstone. As it were, he only knew her from Zeltros, at that distance, for those brief seconds they had looked each other. He didn’t know how special he was to her. How unfortunate indeed. It did mean she got to put on quite a little show then.

Tesa licked her lips and checked the loudness of her voice. She didn’t want these thoughts to be projected for everyone in the archives to hear. “Neither monster nor man, as I am neither woman nor monster. Monster entails a creature of untold horrors, and the only true monsters come our nightmares. The most genuine monsters come from the unconscious depths of our mind – the monsters we don’t know that exist. Those are the scariest of all. The only way you and I could be monsters is becoming our worst, unmentioned dreams. That would require a level of insanity that neither you nor I are capable of controlling. Once we lose control, then we become the creatures of the night.” Tesa smiled at the man. “We’re still in control.

“Now, to say you are a man and I am a woman would mean we are normal and no different from everyone else. Those who live their lives by getting up and working mindlessly throughout their lives. We would have sturdy lives with a belief or two and know exactly where we will be in the next five years.” Tesa’s nails clicked as she drummed them together. “Now, we don’t think, act, look or believe like the normal being. We have the Force, the thing mere others do not, and that sets us apart. I do not know where my boots will be planted five years from now. My goal in life is not to marry and reproduce. I have sunken to a layer of insanity that most of the galaxy would disregard.”

Tesa paused, lifting her pressed together index fingers to tap at her lips. “I am somewhere between woman and monster, as you are from monster and man. Acceptable? The Force makes all the difference.” She laced her fingers, resting her chin against their tops, her sight somewhere not in the room. Her face refocused suddenly and she was seeing the man again. “Now, tell me more about the way I smell.”

Fear. It drove people to do things untold, unspeakable in normal society. Yet why it had been shown in him, he did not know. For it lingered on the fringes of this conversation even now as they pranced back and forth like some skewed version of a dance. One would step forward to take the lead, then shy back as the other seemed to do the same. Neither would go so far as to give up ground, but none would necessarily take any away either, which denoted fear. In all honesty he wasn’t afraid anymore, no he had gotten past that, not it was something different. Perhaps some might call it intrigue, maybe even curiosity, but while he stood there something else took chance to stare him in the face. It wasn’t the cold hands of woman in front of him, but the movements of her feet as they timidly took a step back, and then strengthened to take a stride closer to him. Unlike her initial response he had no such reaction. No, instead he took the challenge as it was, and stepped all the closer to the woman as the heat off her skin emanated to heat him just a slight bit. He’d always been a slightly cold natured person.

With her soft voice. Well it wasn’t exactly the softest, but he had heard things which made the twinkle of her throat sounds like an angel descending from heaven, ”Did you know yours eyes tell as much a story as your words?”

With a smile she responded at first, her statement might be considered vague to some, but he saw the meaning of it, and responded with barely a thought to it, ”Perhaps more, puppet, I do not speak freely of most things. For while you speak of a language in my eyes you speak through every movement you make, the slightest change of skin tone, the tiniest break in breath. Its all part of a puzzel, and before tonight is over I‘m going to break your puzzle.”

With that he left her with a question herself, hopefully he’d gotten the idea that he wasn’t just some stupid little initiate across, but it was almost too simple. Soon she’d realise, though exactly what he meant, however he did have a feeling welling up inside that for as young as she no doubt was, she wasn’t childish. It might be accredited to having seen more about life than a kid should have, or perhaps she just learned quick. Either way, she did seem like someone who was worthy of noting at least, but she had a long ways to go before he considered her a threat, she just didn’t have the experience. Part of it was in her eyes, he could tell that there was just an absence of the maturity, or the insanity which was brought upon by age, or perhaps by time, for in all standards of his species he still wasn’t old at all.

While she spoke he began to think, to go through all the things which she said, and he furled the edge of his brow as he considered what was given to him. In a second he began to process it all, but there was something about this place, the smell of the air, the confusion which distracted him. They needed to be somewhere else, they needed to get out of here for just a second and look out into the wide expanses of the desert. That would help to clear his mind. It always did.

”Walk with me,” Spoke the man, not too quietly, but not too loudly either. It was in a tone he didn’t often use, and it was once reserved for someone he knew would have made even that statement into some sort of game. Oh damn he missed her, but that was a long time ago now.

So he began to talk, and could only hope she followed, but one thing did surprise him. She had gone through all this speech, and still remembered his statement about how she smelled. Most people would have skipped over it as just one more of his insane rants, a little bit of his mind he had lost, or even the result of some horrible idea. None were the true answer, it had something more to do with his past, and actually if it seemed all too odd the actual scent which she gave off. It was something which he looked for, he wasn’t fond of having acquaintances or allies of any kind that smelled bad. Not only was it unattractive, it also was very hard to stand around them. Perhaps she’d take a simple answer this one time, but he wasn’t about to give her one. First he had to respond to her previous statement, though.

As they walked he placed his hands behind his back, and looked sideways at her while he spoke, lightly now, “I must ask you one more question right now. What is it to a man who knows nothing of a toadstool to simply pick the plant up and eat it if he is hungry? Few people could tell it was poisonous simply by looking at it, so for you I wonder how well you can measure the depth of ones soul by simply looking at them?”

With a simple quirk of his eyebrow he looked away one more, and continued to walk towards the exit to these expansive temples, ”My mind has been frayed, distorted to a point where not even I can tell if its still intact, so who are you to tell me I am still in control? Is this really me controlling my life, or is it some shadow of myself, a bloody fragment of my life which has commandeered my mind. Mutiny is in the nature of every living organism great or small, so how can we rid the idea that the mind can commit a similar action. But perhaps I do not look it on the outside. I might be a monster, but at least I have the face of a lamb. And yet I am still left with the question of whether that really makes it okay, or just takes my level of insanity to a farther level. A monster is hideous for a reason.”

Finally they reached the exit to this chasm of stone, this heart of rock and he spoke gently this time, but it wasn’t soft anymore. This place was lonely now, ”I grow tired of smells, yet I wonder to you. How long does life last?”

With a smile he added, ”Do you trust me?” A step and he was out into the world, out of the shading of this dismal place, and there would be something to see soon enough. While he stepped into the sand he prayed to the force that he knew what he was doing. He’ll, he really didn’t have an idea, but if he was going to plunge into an ocean he might as well do it face first.

A slight chill had settled in the room. Not cool enough to prickle the flesh, but enough that Tesa believed she recognized a temperature decline. With that decline, at least only surface skin deep, Tesa was hyperaware of herself and this man. While Tesa maintained a steady breath, she was increasingly conscious of her rising heart rate, and it was becoming less and less possible to retain her even respiration. She did not suffer from a pounding heart, like a large bass drum being struck or a fist slamming into a heavy bag, repetitively spaced every few seconds. No, she had the hyper patter of young children’s feet as they ran across wooden floors. It ran up and down against her ribcage, excited as it was, playing a ringing tune with the noise of an ancient instrument.

She was young at mind and young at body. Oh how true she knew that was! She still had bouts of confusion and odd temperaments, though could usually find her way out of any of those pits. There were times that her mind conspired against her and her body. It decided for her when she hadn’t thought. Like what excited her. For instance, this man had all the presence of danger. The secret instinct of flight was bound and gagged and abandoned in some dark cabinet. The fight instinct was subdued, tamed to words and twitches of significant movement that opened gates to behavior. The man had the potential to be dangerous. Tesa could tell from his eyes but she wasn’t afraid. She was on the verge of giddy, heated on excitement.

Tesa would be the type of being to look Danger in the eye and deny him all. She would deny him every fear. She would deny quaking and refuse each horrible seduction. When he wanted her to scream, she would laugh. And she would laugh and laugh and laugh such a whole-hearted, belly-filled cackle.

”… before tonight is over I‘m going to break your puzzle.”

There had been such a lovely, cold curl winding down her center back. The look then in her eye was one that whispered luck to the man.

But, then she thought, what if she wasn’t as complex as she believed she was? Then this man would indeed break the puzzle that made her tick. A hawk’s death talons pierced her heart and dragged it down to her stomach. Could he? He can try, hissed the arrogant, clever serpent in Tesa’s head, rearing its head to align its eyes behind hers. He can so very try. On your guard. No doubt. No fear. A mighty eagle screeched at the hawk, seizing back her heart and pulling it back to her chest where it rightfully belonged. There the eagle hung, protecting her heart with bravado, shadowing her in the armor of its wings.

”Walk with me.”

Tesa suddenly felt oddly serene. She studied the man’s face more before he turned, beginning to walk away. Her breath cast from her. No demands. No commands. No ill-natured, negative tone of the voice. It was open ended, leaving her room to walk away without reprimands or consequence other than ignoring the invitation. Tesa blinked once, gazed about her for a moment, at her shelf of psychology and in seek of other person bodies to know if there was witness. Disregarding third-thoughts and foregoing more hesitation, Tesa strode after the man, meeting him by his side in the hall.

As he spoke, Tesa’s brain actively engaged, considering his words and studying his comparisons while she remained silent. A toadstool? Was he the toadstool in this and she was the hungry person? If it was, it certainly was a hint at how he viewed himself. His question then turned her thoughts to herself, examining her capabilities. She didn’t want to finalize a failure of hers, but then again, determining the depth of one’s soul required not only knowledge but talent as well. Was it so much a weakness therefore? Wasn’t that simply inexperience?

You think too much. What is wrong with you?

Still she did not speak to form those questions into a hypothesis. She regarded him when he turned to talk to her. Hell, she wasn’t going to shoot him down. No one was willing to talk here in the temple; too fearful. There wasn’t enough trust, which even Tesa knew trust would be a near impossible feat to accomplish with those who were best friends with the shadows and the phantoms.

There was that thoughtful chew on her lip as he carried on his speech, discussing monsters and faces, insanity and shredded minds. “I figure a monster to be incapable of controlling himself and lack thinking. A monster is devoid of emotion. A monster would be a black hole, a consumer of everything and anything; a creature of hellish divine. A predator that does not attack would have reason to not attack, making it not a monster, because it has thought and is not devouring. Either it is satisfied of hunger or contemplating a trap for later on. A monster would not recognize this. Everything is poured on how to leave behind bodies and blood. Summoned from Hell, the monster would do nothing but create havoc.

“If you are a monster, you’re a very controlled one, which, therefore, by my definition you are not a monster. But if you are indeed a mindless beast with the innocent lamb’s mask, then that is your disgusting and hideous disguise. That is masquerading as something you are not and if played correctly, people will follow into your playing den like banthas. Once in the playing room, there is no escape, is there?” She paused for a moment, noticing the exit to the temple just before them. Once again, Tesa’s eyes were lost to something not present. “But that would make a monster have conscious thought then, huh?, to notice the ballroom mask he wears and manipulates to his advantage.” And you could be one such monster. “Well,” she stated with a smile, “That is that then. A monster who impersonates a man. The ultimate horror. Hell’s greatest creation yet.” The smile broadened and her eyes saw the monster/man who walked beside her. “We’re all monsters in our ways then, I assume.”

Silence fell on Tesa’s lips. The line that separated the outside and the inside lay before her. There was heated sun and hugging shadow. Tesa stopped suddenly when she heard his final question:

”Do you trust me?”

The answer was too easy.

“No,” the syllable dropped from her mouth, “…Not any more than all of the other man pretending demons who trudge these halls. Why would I and why should I?” Unlike the man, Tesa remained in the doorway, refusing to cross that threshold line into the outdoors, into the sunlight. She leaned against the frame, in her shadows, in her comfort spot, with her arms crossed. “If I did, my life could be a lot shorter than I wish. Life lasts as long as you make the proper decisions to stay alive. This is excusing age: the natural parasite. If one dies before Death beckons him, then he’s made a stupid choice that’s wound him up dead.

“Now, why would I trust you? You’re someone I’ve only talked to for about ten to fifteen minutes, and I’ve only known you from a look across Zeltros lane.”

Someone had once told Silas that love was a scary thing. They had said it was confusing, and that he should give his heart only to those who knew what to do with it. Love was a simple thing, he knew that now. All you had to do was have someone who would do anything for you, no matter what it cost them, no matter what their feelings where. Silas had that now, a people who were more than just friends, or parents, but a family he could love forever. A sentient being who would always be ready to put his life on the line for him, someone who could die, and could be reborn without any need for grief. Why no one had thought of it before was a mystery even to the Sith who looked down upon this girl, and he wondered if anyone loved her. Not just said they loved her, but actually felt love for her, needed to protect her despite their better judgement. Maybe someday he’d give her one of his family members to her as a present, he didn’t mind sharing either. Silas might have to teach her the method, though, and he didn’t think he would ever do that. Not until he was much older.

Here they stood, and she spoke of monsters, and demons as per his request, but for a second he couldn’t help but think of the boredom which struck him. Why he had struck up the conversation wasn’t important, but it was one he’d need to move on from rather quickly. It had been a good question at the time, maybe, but now it was time to move on, perhaps to Space Dragons, that’d always been a topic to intrigue him. Some people said they didn’t exist, but those people where fools, they were alive and well. Silas had never actually seen them, but like a good ship, gravity, and helium balloon, you just had to have faith in something. Someday he’d ask someone about the creatures, just not today.

Upon the sand it was as if he could feel the sand beneath his toes, smell the salt which had sunk into the grains, hear the erosion of the rock around him. Life moved in such a curious way, it liked to destroy every thing it created, their where people who might say the force has balance, but no such luck for humanity. People had to work their way through this never ending sand storm of life, and it made you wonder if it was the rock he was hearing erode, or the lives of every man, creature, and being close to him.

”No, not any more than any of the other man pretending demons….” Told the woman, as easily as the breeze, it was a simple answer to say. Yes was something hard, it took time to earn, time he didn’t care to waste. This game was all or nothing. ”Now, why would I trust you?”

For a second he let her on, took a second to pause, but then slowly he trudged over towards a wall of the large academy. ”If we’re not going anywhere, might as well sit down,’ Mumbled the Sith half to himself as he slid down into the sand. With one hand he pulled off one of his shoes, then dumped out a little pile of sand, and placed it next to him. Once done with the first he continued to the second, until he sat there barefoot in the sand, his toes slowly sinking in and out of the shifting particles. Curious he perked up his head to look at her, a certain wonder in his eyes, “What would happen to a tree if I pretended it was a curious cat? If I petted it as a cat, if I played with it as a cat, and I talked to it as a cat. Would the fact that I’m treating it as a cat make it any less of a tree? No.”

For a second he took a deep breath, and looked out into the sky, the sun was so brilliant it was difficult to look at any time of the day. “A tree is a tree is a tree, and most of these people are just trees around here. They’d like to pretend they were cats, but they really are just trees deep down inside. Don’t be fooled by which one is which.”

With that he hoped up from his little spot, and leaned over to pick up his shoes from the sand. With a smile he meandered a little farther into the desert. There was a grin on his face now, the past lost in the sand he’d stirred from the upward motion, there was no going back now. The fullness of this day had been an excitement, perhaps there was fun to be found on Korriban, if one pressed himself to find it.

”If you’re coming or not, its not going to be light forever, and I really would like to meditate for a while. So if you do trust me even a bit, then so be it, but if you do not think on what I said. Trees are smaller they appear, Ms.” Hollered the Sith as he made his way from the temple, and little feet marks left a trail behind him not only physically, but the force could be followed as well. It made nice little rivets in the way the world worked, and you could always find your way back home, not that Silas would even need it. A thousand times he’d been this way, and a thousand times he’ll travel it again. Life went on, and hell always found a way to break loose over these people.

”If we’re not going anywhere, might as well sit down.”

Tesa was halted in her actions. She had half expected the man to shoot a glare across his shoulder and ignore her to continue about his business. Instead he’d walked the distance back and sat down. With a blink, Tesa looked down as she passed her threshold, the line between the door and the outside. On the opposite side of the door, she crouched, eyeballing Korriban’s sand as the man dumped it from his shoes. His head shot up, which captured new attention from her, and he went on about trees and cats.

Tesa lifted her hand and rubbed her fingers along her cheekbone. Cats and trees. Such an interesting comparison. Such an interesting man. Trees were rooted and didn’t sway. Stiff. Uptight. And they grew in forests. Tesa didn’t consider herself a tree and wouldn’t like to be called a tree.

Pretending her thoughts were stalling her, Tesa really gazed after the man as he walked off a ways. That sand had to be mighty hot. His feet had to be calloused into rocks, otherwise she couldn’t imagine how he could simply walk out there. Unless he was a man who ignored pain. She couldn’t do that.

“Trees are smaller they appear, Ms.”

Infuriating man! He was going to pry where he knew where. And it was going to work, Tesa resigned with an internal sigh. Standing, she jogged after the man to close the distance, grumbling under her breath and more in her head. Pulling up beside him and matching his past, she murmured, “Yes, but curiosity killed the cat.” Tesa was instantly glad she had left Insanus in the room. By now, he would have complained about the heat melting his circuits to a puddle and annoy the tar out of this man.

“You ever hear the tale of the wolf and the deer?” He seemed like the type to enjoy stories. “There was this young deer that found himself a shelter to hide in to protect him from the wolves. He never came out of the shelter for fear he would be eaten. There was this one wolf that would pass by and would talk to the deer. Daily, the wolf would ask, ‘Aren’t you a little thirsty in there? I can take you to a special creek just over yonder.’ To which the deer replied he was fine. After several days, the deer was really thirsty and he made the wolf promise not to eat him and to protect him from other wolves. The wolf agreed, led the young deer to the creek, and once they reached the creek, the wolf and his buddies lying in wait killed and ate the deer.”

Tesa clasped her hands in front of her at the conclusion of her story. Her head and eyes were tilted down, watching as the red sand tinted her boots and clothing. Cloudy swirls danced around her ankles, and the wind blew up more mini sandstorms. Her heart pounded in her chest, shot with a steady intake of adrenaline since she decided to join the man on his walk. Was this one hazy decision she was going to regret? She stole a one-eyed glance up at the man. Well hopefully things would be made crystal clear.

Curiosity killed the cat… Idly the older man mused to himself as he wandered thought the sand, the sensation move through his feet, but he only felt bliss. Slightly his toes sunk into the sand as he considered how bland it might be to live by such a notion. If Tesa did such a thing then she would turn out to be a very grumpy tree indeed.

”If a man is unable to keep himself alive while simply being curious, then perhaps I long not to live, kiddo,” Silas almost whispered as his eyes started beyond the distant horizon, and into a world unseen by those who didn’t know the gift which he delved in.

All alone this place was such a world of intrepid intricacies, with life all around him which no man would notice. Through the Force he could feel a bug crawl through the sand, a larger reptile flee from under a rock. He could smell the sand and the salt in the air as he listened to the tale this woman behind him told. The story was one he’d never heard before, but he considered it lightly as he walked across the sand. In his mind he could think of at least two different meanings towards it, and he’d never really been one to go by the orthodox. So, in his mind he formulated a response as they made their way through the sand, and their time passed by.

After a few seconds he responded, ”Interesting story, but I have no pity for the deer. In fact, I’m quite happy with the way the story turned out. A life spent hiding from your enemy is barely a life at all, so perhaps he was dead before the story began. Perhaps, he went out knowing that he’d die, and was okay with it, because he knew that his world would change, and even if it was for the worse it would be better than what he was in at that moment. He’d be a smart deer if he secretly had the wolves do exactly as he wished of them. Wonderful story, indeed.

In a way Silas found all of this cold. The desert around him was probably one of the coldest places he knew, for it felt no compassion for anything. Long ago Silas had learned a high pain tolerance, and it had drifted into an ability to almost ignore the heat or the cold of the world around him. It wasn’t a matter of the Force, it was something much more intricate, and took a bit more training. His master had taught it to him. His master….whom was dead now.

The Sith caught himself with a frown on his face, and turned it into a smile as the deep contemplative stare turned into an excited gaze as he turned around and continued to walk.

”Who was the first person you killed, child?” Asked the man as he walked backwards through the sand. ”Do you remember?”

While Silas didn’t know anything about her past, he was almost certain that any person, no matter how young would always have killed someone. This older man would love to hear about it if she remembered; for he himself remembered the first time he killed someone. Probably over sixty years ago now, but it still was so vivid, and so stark. Such beauty lay in the death of someone, he didn’t realise that then, but now it was obvious. As wondrous as a sunrise it might be, naivety often brings about a child-like bliss to what is and isn’t magnificent.