Corev walked quietly behind Erzabet and Ketan as they made their way through the halls of the temple. It was the same thing every day, it had been the same for the past couple of weeks now. They would go through talking about the Light, how it was the true path to enlightenment and strength, Ketan teaching Erzabet all he knew while she seemed to listen intently. Corev was actually surprised at Ketan`s progress with her. He had not expected him to get very far with the woman, but he seemed to be getting through to her finally, and her power in the Force had grown substantially.
He had stopped listening to most of their conversations about the path of the Jedi. He hadn't liked it or completely agreed with it when he was a padawan, why should he have to go through it all again? That did not mean that he wasn't paying attention though, it just meant he paid more attention to the way Erzabet responded. Besides he had plenty of other things to keep an eye on.
Cain was still always around her and was even more obsessed with her then when she was a prisoner. He was not too much of a problem, however. He was not harming anything. For the moment. More importantly, Nahila was aware of their clandestine lessons and had ordered him not to intervene.
Ythros, on the other hand, was a big problem. The man never came up to Erzabet, or any of them for that matter, but Corev could always see him around a corner or down the hallway, glaring at Erzabet. Well, she had been a Sith, and Ythros was always out hunting Sith. Maybe he thought she was just another Sith or maybe it was something more. The truly troubling part was that he was glaring at Ketan just as much or maybe even more. Corev didn't know why he was acting that way, but the look he gave those two meant that he was planning something, and that plan probably meant trouble for all of them. To add more frustration to the situation, he couldn't even report the whole thing to Nahila as she was away on some government related matter. He could send her a message, but he did not want her returning from something important and have it turn out to be nothing.
Ythros was a weird guy. Maybe this was just him being him but just in case it was something more, Corev was watching him.
…
Ketan focused, long deep breaths in the nose and out the mouth. It was hard to relax in the turmoil of his mind, but there was no alternative but to try. To submit was to be in chaos.
--
Ythros focused, sharp breaths in through the mouth and spat back out like a poison. It was impossible to think in the maelstrom of his mind, and there was no alternative. To struggle was to be swept aside.
--
Ketan was a Jedi conflicted, in his mind all of the arguments for why he did not go to war lined up proud and spartan for inspection. They were solid and unflinching before his gaze, supported by his conviction in the Light which never flinched or wavered...never before. Even before he had started to doubt that conviction he had never found those ranks of facts a comfort.
Men had died while he had held up his conviction with pride. He was apprehensive that it was worth nothing compared to the actions of those misguided fools who had fought in the name of Light. He had thought them misguided, anyway, thought them impulsive and rash. They thought him stagnant and slow. He was not sure if he thought otherwise now that times had passed.
--
Ythros thought nothing but blood, he held up his madness to the abyss and it had not been found wanting.
He scuttled along the shadows like a beast, and his demons followed him with whips of hate and terror.
-----
Ketan sighed. He was alone in this room now, Erzabet had left no doubt to continue her covert training in the arts of battle. In the past he would have taken her to Ythros to see where deception could lead, but the poor man had locked himself away since her arrival. Maybe he could go and see him one of these days.
--
Ythros could see Ketan.
Alone
-----
Come to think of it, Ketan had not seen Ythros at all for a week, not even at meals, and he would have noticed a droid delivering food to him. Had he had an accident? Nobody ever went near the room of the patchwork man and if he had hurt himself he might even now be trapped. Or worse, one of his...tendencies was getting the best of him
-----
Ythros scuttled along the ceiling, fingers gripping micro-holds in the 'smooth' surface and he glared down on the prey below.
Now he could strike back at the nameless lost-ness that gripped him
-----
Ketan was grateful for the distraction from his own thoughts, but even so he could not escape them, he turned back to hi--
Blood? dripping fro--
Rolling aside he dodged the thunderous knives that struck from above, and watched as a bone-thin wretch fell to collect them. It scooped up the knives and spun to face him.
Ythros had fallen far, open wounds littered him now, in some places muscle glistened beneath great gashes and pulsed like a felusian forest. His flesh was not scars but scabs, not a place of him remained untouched by his own hands... and nails... and teeth... The scarecrow had ordered no food. Savage chunks out of his shoulders and biceps spoke of a more terrible depravity... for a week had been eating himself. Ketan moved backwards and brought his lightsaber to bear, unignited and only as a warning.
"Ythros, lets get you to a medi--"
Ythros focused with hate on the Lightsaber and leapt, knives batted aside by the sudden pulsing beam. "Gaah!" was all he was able to vocalize by a throat that had not been able to evade the reach of his own blades. Over and over he struck madly and without pause. This was not Ythros, Ythros was more than capable of giving a foe with a lightsaber a run for his money...this was a beast in a broken shell with a broken mind.
Ketan merely danced out of the way, not wanting to strike back and injure the animal before him, but Ythros was fast and knew no restraint. He reached out to the Force and pushed Ythros back, but the walking slaughterhouse barely budged, his own perverted link with the Force serving two purposes. The first was to make him resistant to the influence to others, a hole in the all pervading aura of the Force. The second was why he was such a prolific killer of Sith, and today possibly Jedi. Ketan winced as he felt it and tried to hold it back. All over his body cuts appeared, tiny and red at first, but growing as he failed to completely resist the abomination that was the Curse of Ythros.
Ythros knew pain like nobody else, he had endured decades of it constantly. And learned to share it and its causes.
Ketan shouted for aid and began to retreat, he could not restrain Ythros, and to attack him was to either kill him outright or risk injuring himself. And besides, the longer he spent in the company of Ythros, the wider the thousands of gashes in his flesh grew. Evidently Ythros was not entirely lucid. If he was truly feeling the wounds he had inflicted on himself, this fight would be much less prolonged. Ythros needed to feel it to share it.
Ketan was a Jedi, and could wield his saber with great ability, but now he used it to bat aside mad thrusts and wicked sweeps, knives black with old blood seeking to disembowel or open arteries. But even that was failing. Ketan blinked and saw blood, his very eyes had begun to weep red as wounds sliced into Ythros own eyes found their way to Ketan.
This had to end, Ythros was beyond saving and if someone without the ability to resist him arrived they would likely die there and then. Ketan stepped forward and prepared to bat aside the Cortosis weave knives and slice Ythros from head to toe.
When the standing corpse froze, eyes open wide and hissing escaping from his throat. Behind him was Cain. Cain had come to the conclusion sooner than Ketan, and had nearly stabbed Ythros through the base of his spine, a killing blow intended to put him down. Ythros roared and spun, punching Cain down and ignoring what should have been a fatal blow in his back and drawing back his knives.
"You too, traitor?" hissed Ythros "You who would arm the siren even as she blackens your mind?"
Ythros saw Cain begin to falter, his robes beginning to darken from a dozen minor cuts shared from the repository before him.
"Fine, if i need to purge this entire temple to save it i will!"
He leapt
-----
Ketan was crawling away, his body slick with blood from wounds he never received, when he saw the woman pass him, Erzabet strode down the hall towards the fight behind him. Even as Ythros tried to kill Cain, he spotted the once-Sith and screamed aloud, undone by her presence.
"You!" he cried
"Yes," she said levelly, reaching out to place a hand on his chest.
Ketan felt the bombardment of wounds stop.
____________________________________________________________
A day had passed since Ythros had finally succumbed to his madness, and now the dark puppet hung in a bacta tank, eyes wide open and staring out at Erzabet before him. In the middle of his chest was perfect skin, a hand sized oval where she had broken the back of his paranoia. His eyes fixed hers through the liquid and spoke nothing but raw, brutal and murderous hatred. But sane, sane and healed.
He was now scars again, except for the patch of pristine skin upon his chest, and could feel his mind repairing in her presence. But he hated her, hated her for now he was dependant on her, his only anchor in the sea of madness she herself had unleashed within him by her arrival.
For better or for worse, Ythros was now tied by fate to the thing that had broken him, provided the Jedi did not execute him first. Ketan had been by to speak with him and assure Ythros he did not blame him for his actions. But Cain, Cain might not be so forgiving, and Corev had only seen the outcome of the fight but would surely never cease to suspect him.
Ythros hated Erzabet, raged against her because now he could never be sane without her.
His eyes shot loathing through the tank, even as her own ones merely watched him in mild curiosity. He was used to pain...
...but not this... agony.
...
He screams. The Burning Man screams as though it is she who set him alight. (If it had been she, he would not hate her, he would love her. She knows this, as she knows the smell of fuel on her skin, the tcht! of the lighter, knows gazing through the sudden uprush of golden light at the face of the only man who can save her, who will save her, if only so he may become her savior again and again and again...)
She will save him. She did not set him alight (Athrix!) but she will save him and he will hate her for it.
"You!"
"Yes."
She opens her mind and drowns him. (The smell of steel, the tank, the shackles, the tinny grind of the valve opening, the glimmering line slowly climbing the metal sides, the rising cold, the face of her savior wavering on the other side of the surface, no, she looks, no, his face, no, no, no, she no longer desires salvation, and his face becomes clear as the ripples recede and finally cease.)
The Burning Man, extinguished, tries to swim but his scars bind him, tries to swim but he can emerge into nothing but flame, tries to swim but she keeps the valve open and the water is cold, and she does not release him until the surface is Still.
Now, in the medical bay, he is in the tank, looking through the liquid at the face of his savior. In the middle of his chest is his only true scar
...
Ketan rubbed his face. It stung mildly, as did the hand doing the rubbing. All of him stung mildly, really. The cuts had healed quickly with meditation, healing was never his strong suit but his injuries were minor. Admittedly, the damage he knew that had really been dealt was to the morale of the temple.
Nahila was the one for spotting important events and portents in advance, but it did not take a gift to see what was happening after the... incident. Tensions were high, there were whispers of exile for Ythros, and putting Erzabet back into holding. He knew he would need to speak with them both and ascertain the true reasons behind what had happened. Which was not a task he was looking forward too.
Ythros had been far from remorseful when he had gone to see him.
"I don't blame you, you know," he had told the scarecrow
"Why
should you? Do you think it would be better if you did?" spat
the suspended Ythros through the tank's glass, his almost reptilian
voice made more alien by a foot of liquid.
.
"No,
not at all, but sometimes people can blame them--"
"I
know who to blame!" Ythros pressed his face against the panels
"You don't think i remember? I know those were not my actions,
but still they are burned behind my eyes like a Huttese slave-brand!
I know I did not mean what I wrought but still I must find
retribution. And I know where I would place it, would it not be the
end of any hope for a lucid existence outside of this liquid prison!"
Ketan could not respond, then or now. Of all the responses he had expected, anger was the one he had least anticipated. Did he honestly think Erzabet the architect of his madness?
Ythros himself had given him a half answer; "One does not need to be the storm to sink the ship."
Erzabet would surely be even less predictable, despite his efforts to have her open up to events. Her lessons had become discussions verging on debate, her turning his teachings into questions he could not answer fully, and into those cracks she would force more questions until she sat there innocently among the broken pieces of his confidence and requested more of his faith to twist and confuse. He knew one thing--he was right, and clung to it amid this growing frustration.
He was trying to teach her all that the Light represented, but her mind was almost too... wide. Not that it took a closed one to see the Light as he presented it, but there were times when questions needed to be silenced so that the whole truth can be expanded on. If he could only get her to see the full scope of events, then her questions might cease to distract her... if that's what they were doing. He suspected lately she might be trying to teach him as much as he attempted to tutor her...
If one thing had changed, it was Ketan. This process of 'converting' Erzabet had spawned something in him, not unlike his allegiance to the way of the Jedi. It had spawned...devotion. He would see no stone unturned to save her, no matter the cost.
That was as far as Ketan thought before he retired for sleep. In fact, it was a far as his mind would let him think. But there was one part of that conversation with Ythros he had failed to recall.
"I don't think your mind is clear yet, you're not thinking straight," he had reasoned with the wretch.
Ythros had smiled and settled further back into the bacta, after this he would not be prompted into further discussion. His faint voice, rasped as it was carried into Ketan's ears.
"No? Well I am not so scarred yet in my perceptions that I cannot see the claws she has dug into your mind..."
