:: Chapter Forty One ::

"Yesterday as I left, you were about to say something, weren't you?" The words escaped Arcann before he'd even fully well entered her cell.

"Why, hello to you too, Emperor Charming." Eliza's voice dripped heavy with sarcasm. "Oh yes, I'm great in my own little deluxe suite here, thank you ever so much for asking."

Arcann gritted his teeth and groaned internally—why was it so hard for her to just do what he wanted and answer his questions?

"Weren't you?" he asked a second time and sat down across from her at the small table.

"Yes, I was, what of it?"

"I'd like to know what you were going to say."

'That you're a jackass and I'd love to sever your head from your body,' Eliza considered but that wasn't quite the truth.

She remembered her thoughts and words well, what she had purposely neglected to say but she was also reminded of her considerations afterwards. That her bleeding heart, her ability to show care, kindness and compassion might just be her ticket out of this hell hole.

"You may not like it. Are you gonna hit me again if that's the case?"

"No." His voice lowered an octave or two, almost with shame and he looked away. "I'm, sorry, about that."

"Hrm." Eliza raised a brow and sat back in her seat, breathing out a deep exhale.

"Your brother, Thexan."

Arcann glanced back up to meet her eyes. "Yes?"

"With everything you told me about your bond, about growing up together, how much you meant to him, how good he was to you… I, can't help but feel like perhaps you were wrong, about him."

"Wrong? No! Thexan was the better one out of us both!"

"No, not that part, that I believe. It's the part about him protecting your father that I'm not too convinced on."

"How do you mean? That's exactly what happened, or are you calling me a liar?!" His temper was on the rise and Eliza rolled her eyes.

"No, I'm not, but I do think you got the wrong impression out of your brother's actions. He wasn't protecting your father, he was protecting you."

"Me?" Arcann gave her an incredulous look. "By standing against me?"

"First, the obvious—your father's powers are unparalleled, he would have killed you. And, second, by preventing you from doing something that would haunt you for the rest of your life," Eliza corrected and she got up.

"It wouldn't have—"

She spun back around and confronted, "Do you think it's easy to kill?"

Scoffing, he turned his gaze to the blank wall. "You've accused me of mass murder before, what do you think?"

"No. Nameless faces on strange planets, an errand Knight or even my partner, it's not the same. I'm talking about killing someone you know. Someone who's been such a massive part of your life, someone you love even if it comes with equal measures of hatred."

A shiver rolled along Arcann's spine and he closed his eyes. He knew exactly what it was like to kill a loved one, but Eliza carried on.

"It leaves a mark on you, one you'll never be able to shake. Even if killing them was the right thing to do, like with your father, it changes nothing. Your hatred, your pain, all the memories, they'll all still be there except now…"

A heavy sigh escaped her lips and she hugged her arms around herself, clutching her elbows. "Now you have the added memory of watching life fade from their eyes, feeling their heartbeat ebb away until nothing's left except their blood on your hands and… it changes nothing. It only adds to your scars."

Eliza brushed aside the single tear that trickled down her own cheek, brought on by her own memories, and she took a deep breath before turning back around. Sitting back in her seat and, to her own surprise, taking Arcann's hand.

"That's what he tried to protect you from. Out of love and concern for you, not your father."

"Then I failed him…" Arcann's voice was timid. "Because I did kill, and someone far more valuable to me than my father…"

"I know," said Eliza. She'd already puzzled out the truth omitted in everything he hadn't told her the previous day.

"It was me who killed him," he confessed regardless, "my own brother."

"Yeah…"

They sat in silence and Eliza wasn't sure whether he'd release his emotions any further. They were buried deep, she could see that much by the paleness of his face and the glossed over look in his eye but nothing came, not even while her index finger stroked the back of his hand.

"You've never really talked about this, have you?" she said after a while.

"No. My mother was already gone by then and my father… There was Vaylin but all she ever did was bring it up as a tease, a painful reminder. Something to mock and hurt me with."

Arcann took a deep inhale and straightened out his shoulders. Pushing down any further sentiment because he wasn't prepared to show her, his enemy, more than he already had. And yet she'd listened, exactly as he'd thought, or maybe even hoped she might.

"Do you really believe he did it for me?"

"I honestly do."

Arcann nodded. "The things you just said, about killing… it sounded like you've been through your fair share."

"Oh I've killed, plenty. As Jedi I always tried to avoid it, a last resort kinda thing but once I changed and my dark side rose to the surface… Mostly nameless faces, others more familiar. Closer…"

"Such as?"

There was no denying that what she'd shared had been quite personal as well, that she'd spoken of recent experiences—he'd heard the slight tremor in her voice.

"Someone, not long ago. He uhm, we had something going on even while I knew he was… well, not exactly the nicest person. But then I found out he deceived me, intentionally hurt the people I love, put them in danger, betrayed me with the most unforgivable lie and I just…"

"You killed him."

"Yeah. I mean he had it coming and I do think everyone's better off without him around but, nothing changed, not for me. It still hurts. I still feel this blinding hatred when I think of him and washing his blood off my hands didn't erase a single moment of our history together."

A glimmer of scarlet flashed through her eyes and Arcann saw them glisten, same as his own only moments ago.

It brought him to realize that, even through their vast differences, in some ways, he and the stranger before him shared a few things in common as well. She was simply more experienced and she'd received, he assumed, more guidance in how to handle everything in life. How to balance her impulses against her actions.

"There was a chance he was the father, wasn't there? That's why you were so anxious to know how far along you were?"

Eliza let out a wry chuckle. "Yes but, thankfully, he's not. It's Theron's so there's a relief."

"Theron? The man I attacked?"

"Yeah."

"Oh."

"Yeah…"

Another awkward silence began constructing an invisible wall between the two adversaries. Both sat back and quickly lost in their own train of thought.

There was no way for Eliza to know how either Theron or Lord Scourge were doing and with the oceans of time on her hands stuck in a cell, she'd ran through at least a hundred different scenarios. Some more terrifying than others but in none had she dared to hope for their survival. They were thoughts she couldn't escape, even while she tried to, wishing to limit her stress and panic not only for her own sake but for the child she carried.

Arcann, on the other hand, relived his past. Wondering whether the Outlander was right or if she was merely trying to add to his pain and guilt by implying Thexan had died for him and not their father.

Witnessing again how he and Thexan knelt before their father and revealed the trophies they'd brought back from battle. The torn banners of the Republic and the Empire but his father had turned away without as much as a single word or nod of approval. How his own anger had reached a pinnacle and he'd leaped the distance to strike at his father. In blinding hatred quite as Eliza had described.

A force had halted his attack mid-jump, in part knocking the air from his lungs as he was pulled back to face his own brother instead and he'd lashed out on instinct. Too driven by his anguish, his resentment and a temper he no longer controlled. All he'd wanted was to defend himself, to reject his brother's interference but it was in that split second that for once, his own prowess outshone Thexan's.

He recalled how their eyes met and now, for the first time, recognized the confusion and horror reflected in his brother's clear blues. The sorrow as Thexan realized his fate and the regret as life fled his body. How he had held on to Arcann right up until his moment of death and finally, Arcann understood—the Outlander was right.

"My father noticed me then," Arcann broke his silence.

"As I sat holding my brother's dead body in my lap. He reached out and called me son. I wonder whether his lessons about fighting alone, standing alone in the darkness were always meant to prepare us for that moment. Whether he always knew what one of us would do."

"Perhaps he did. Your father is a master of manipulation and little happens without him behind it as a silent instigator."

"Who would I be if I hadn't been born into his bloodline? If he hadn't…"

Eliza shrugged. "I've asked myself that question so many times. I was born with a purpose, a destiny to end his reign and it seems no matter what I do, no matter the choices I make, everything keeps driving me toward that goal whether I like it or not."

"With what you told me yesterday, does this mean we're family?"

She grimaced. "In a very distant, roundabout, amplified by Sith magic sort of way, yes. But don't expect a Life Day card any time soon."

"Life Day?"

"Yeah. It's a uh… holiday of sorts, guess you don't celebrate it here."

"No. You would have killed me or buried me alive on Nathema, even while you knew we're—"

"Extremely distant family? Yes, I would have and don't even try acting as though you wouldn't have done the very same thing if it weren't for you seeking answers about your father."

"No, I would have," Arcann admitted, "Tried suffocating you once you passed out but changed my mind."

"Perhaps you should have gone through with it," the miserable thought poured out with ease.

His brow furrowed and he looked somewhat taken aback. "Why?"

"Because I can't seem to escape this life. This… destiny stuff and it tends to get those around me killed. My parents, both of my Masters, Kira, perhaps Scourge and Theron and that's not counting all the suffering everyone else has endured as I walk this path forced upon me."

Frustration rose and her heart weighed heavy, and Eliza got up to pace the confinements of her cell.

"Maybe it's a good thing you've got me locked up in here and far away from everyone who matters. It'll keep them safe."

Now there was a notion that truly left him stunned and Arcann struggled to form a response but he didn't have long to weigh his words either. Voices coming up the hallway and drawing near caught his attention, and Eliza's, and he swiftly bolted from her cell to find the source.

"... and down here we have our brand new, state of the art holding cells. Far less obscured than the old ones, as you can see by the glass panels, and with the latest technology in security systems," a voice told.

"Impressive," another commented and Eliza picked up on a distinct Republic accent.

"What's the meaning of this?!" barked Arcann while he approached the men—two Knights, their Captain and a mystery guest cloaked by the shadow that fell over his face.

"My Lord Emperor." The Captain bowed. "Your orders were to provide our esteemed guest with a tour of the Spire."

"This is a restricted area, off limits to guests and most of your guard! Or do you want word getting out that we have captured the Outlander?"

"Apologies, Emperor Arcann, I didn't—"

"The Outlander? Really?" said the mystery man and he drifted closer to Eliza's cell.

The overhead lights illuminated his face—aging and marred by the scars of battle—as he approached and his honey brown eyes held a hint of familiarity that instantly gnawed at Eliza but she struggled to identify the man.

"Well I'll be, it's really you." He smirked at her.

"We can trust the Supreme Commander. He has been a loyal ally," suggested the Knight Captain but Arcann had already ignited his blade.

"That is not your call to make," he hissed and prepared to strike, deciding he couldn't have word get out and trusting no one.

Eliza's eyes widened in shock, recognizing now who stood before her and at the very last second, she called out in a plea, "Arcann no! Don't! Please, don't!"

Arcann paused and grabbed the man by the back of his neck, forcing him up against the glass. His gaze narrowed on Eliza and he growled, "You know him?"

"I do. That's Theron's father!"

"Theron's fa…"

'Damn it!' he cursed to himself. Every irritated nerve in his body compelled him to strike and be done with the situation but he was overwhelmed by hesitation. His conscience gnawing at him and questioning whether he could kill the father while already being responsible for the possible death of his son, especially with Eliza's revelation fresh on his mind.

"Fine! Have it your way!" he hissed when he decided and dragged Jace away, tossing him into the empty cell next to Eliza's before he turned on his own men.

Swift and fluidly, he struck all three of his Knights down and cast an angered glare in Eliza's direction. "This is on you!" he told her while indicating at the bodies by his feet.

Resenting the doubt she'd brought him with her plea, the decision she'd influenced, making him look weak and he strode off without another word. Leaving Eliza stood in horror, half hypnotized by the beheaded corpses just outside her cell.

"What was that about, Sith? Don't appreciate the kill unless it's by your own hand?" Jace called out to her.

She closed her eyes and let out a deep sigh. Retreating to the corner of her cell where the bolts at the side of the wall, those holding the glass panels in place, provided a narrow slit through which she could peer into the cell next to her own.

"You're welcome," Eliza muttered.

A heavy scoffing, followed up by a rough coughing fit, sounded from Jace's end and she met his honey brown eyes through the gap. Similar to Theron's but cold and distant.

"You expect gratitude? I wouldn't be in this mess if it weren't for you!"

"Oh, right. Because I'm the one who convinced you to side with Arcann? To visit Zakuul for a grand tour of the Spire? Give me a break."

"I came to Zakuul to lend my aid in your capture and that of your little group of rejects!"

"Knowing fully well that group of rejects includes your own son?"

"I would have made a deal for Theron, I'd never let any harm come to him no matter how foolish he behaves!"

"How very fatherly of you but you might just be a little too late with that," Eliza sneered.

"How do you mean?"

"Your precious ally, Arcann, struck Theron down before I was captured and I have no idea whether he survived."