Chapter Five: Paths
The spirit let out a harsh grunt as he clutched at his chest, sinking to his knees. Lorrik turned toward the previous chamber, an unfamiliar coldness brewing within him. Not the usual sinister chill, but one of creeping somberness. Just as the inquisitor began to take a step back toward the hallway, he found his other foot sufficiently glued to the ground. Looking back, Lorrik saw that even as he knelt upon the stone floor, the spirit held out a single clawing hand. A burdening force pressed down on the inquisitor's body, attempting to hold him in place.
"Do not… turn your back on me…" the spirit harshly commanded through gritted teeth.
"Let me go!" Lorrik directed. "You may not care about that thing in there, but I care about my partner! Your guardian may be dead, but I can save Jresh!"
"Dead?" the spirit replied, maintaining his grip. "You don't understand, boy, it cannot die. While others used their talents to raise armies, I used mine constructing and molding the perfect killing machine."
"Anything can be killed… even the dead," Lorrik declared. "You know this don't you? Those who draw upon the dark side cannot willingly persist after their bodies perish. Their spirits require a tether. To some idea, some place, some item. But that didn't suit you did it? You had no idea to cling to. You rejected being limited to any single place. You refused to bind yourself to something of simple material worth. So you chose the one thing you were certain could outlast you. But now you find your tether in danger of being cut. And you are afraid. Afraid of what might happen should my friend and I succeed here today."
"I have not yet faded, boy… I am still here!"
Lorrik stopped struggling, stopped resisting the spirit's clutch. His once passionate eyes had relaxed as he stared toward the faint light emanating from the previous chamber. His panicked breathing steadied, and he was overtaken with calm. Even as the spirit attempted to hold him in place, the inquisitor put his strength into facing the ethereal figure.
"Why?" Lorrik asked, soft, almost whispering.
"What?" the spirit replied as his head perked up.
"Why are you still here? Why stick around? Why not move on?"
"Move on? Can you honestly call yourself a Sith?"
"Can you?" Lorrik replied. "Weren't the Sith just a breed of primitive Force-users to you?"
"I have insight beyond these halls, boy," the spirit declared. "I have sensed the progression of the Order since its earliest days within this tomb. I have witnessed its changes."
"And yet for thousands of years you've watched and waited. For what? Your time to return? If there hasn't been a suitable time yet, there never will be. Peace has changed to war and back again, cycle after cycle. The Sith have fallen, only to return. The Jedi have been defeated, only to regain their strength. Are you waiting? Or are you incapable? Is this a tomb, or a prison?"
"I could walk amongst the living at any time should I desire to!" the spirit exclaimed.
"Do you desire to? Do you desire anything? There's no power to be gained here. You guard no secrets. You think your techniques haven't been replicated in your absence? Your selfishness helps no one. Not even yourself. Not anymore."
"You dare to lecture me, boy?" the spirit harshly offered, tightening his grip. Even as the invisible force grew heavier, Lorrik offered only the same stoic visage.
"Then tell me. What is it you hope to accomplish?" Lorrik asked. "Do you want to rule the galaxy? Do you want to be left alone? Do you want to prove something? What?"
"And you think yourself any better than I, little Sith?"
"Yes. I do. I desire freedom, and the knowledge to necessitate it. I desire knowledge, and the freedom to necessitate it. I want to keep moving forward, until I am able to protect the things I care about."
"And what next? You'll find out soon enough that Force-users can't possess normal desires," the spirit stated, his voice lowered. "We either realize that they are beyond our grasp, or worse yet, we actually achieve them. And then you find yourself asking… what next? What next?"
"Should I find my desires met, I'll use the rest of my time and energy trying to fix the galaxy."
The spirit let out a low chortle. "And just who do you think you are to be capable of such a thing?"
"I am the shadow amongst the light. The candle amidst the darkness. I am Lorrik Velash!"
Just as he finished his declaration, the inquisitor released forceful blast of telekinetic energy, breaking free of the spirit's hold and knocking the ethereal figure back. The spirit was tossed to the floor at the other end of the chamber, landing with his back against the pedestal on which his holocron sat.
"I know who I am. Can you say the same?"
From his seated position, the spirit remained motionless, only a soft noise emanating from him. A low chuckle, growing progressively louder and emotive. Lorrik tilted his head at the fallen ghost until another sound overpowered the laughter. A series of loud thuds resonated in the connecting hall, growing louder by the second. The inquisitor turned to see a large shadow approaching, lumbering.
"Jresh?" Lorrik concernedly whispered. As the figure approached, more and more of its form was revealed. The outline was broad and hunched. As it stepped closer and closer to the light of the chamber, the fearsome facade of the Massassi became clear. The creature's crimson flesh was marred with countless slashes and cuts from a lightsaber, culminating in the loss of an arm and a single piercing wound carved into its chest. Still it walked upright, determined and unrelenting. Lorrik's legs began to weaken and shake. He took a woozy step back, deeper into the chamber, but there was nowhere to go.
"Well, Mr. Velash… what next?" the spirit's voice rang out behind him.
Lorrik watched as the beast slowly advanced, driven toward the inquisitor, its clawed feet leaving clacking thuds in its wake. Just as the Human though to react, the monster's front was illuminated by the presence of a crimson beam of light. The blade of a lightsaber had been thrust through its abdomen, and slowly raised until it had cut up to where the original stabbing wound had been inflicted. The beast's advance stopped as it bent its swollen neck to gaze into the energy beam piercing its body. As the blade retracted, the Massassi stood with a scorched gash from its stomach to its chest, before falling forward, revealing the Pureblood that stood behind him. A loud thud resonated through the chamber as the Massassi struck the ground.
Jresh continued forward, stepping over the fallen Massassi and deactivating his lightsaber. As he groggily stepped into the final chamber, Lorrik saw a clear picture of the wounds his partner had sustained. The right half of his face was covered in dried blood from the three gashes wrought by the Massassi's claws. His hair was distraught, much of it caked with blood from the wound in the back of his head. But still he moved, still he pressed forward, driven by some unseen force until he locked eyes with his companion. Seeing his companion standing across from him, safe and sound, the Pureblood cracked a subtle smile before falling forward.
Lorrik rushed forward to catch him, almost being crushed by the weight of his armored partner. Slowly, he lowered himself and the wounded Pureblood to the floor, the inquisitor kneeling and resting his companion's head within his lap. As Jresh's eyes grew heavier and heavier, Lorrik struggled to subdue the concern within his own. Cupping the back of his partner's head, the inquisitor closed his eyes and focused his energies, a dim light emanating from his hands.
Lorrik put forth all his energy attempting to heal the wound in the back of his companion's head. Slowly, pieces of bone began to settle and fall back into place, flesh regenerating and mending over it. Running his hands through the Pureblood's matted hair, Lorrik felt no trace of the wound. Withdrawing them however, the Human saw his palms covered in his companion's blood.
"Jresh. Jresh, are you alright," Lorrik asked in a hushed manner, concern creeping back into his eyes. The Pureblood adopted a harsh scowl as he let a low grumble slip past his lips, wincing at the three slashes that still covered half his face. Despite the fact that his companion was in pain, Lorrik's eyes widened with wonder and excitement at the response.
"I may have exaggerated… when I said I was more than capable of handling it," Jresh muttered with his usual stoicism. The inquisitor let out a soft chuckle.
"Nonsense. I never doubted you for a second," Lorrik declared.
"I know you didn't," Jresh stated as he struggled to lift his head from his partner's lap. Slowly, the warrior turned over and began to push himself up off the floor. Working to keep his stance straight, the Pureblood saw the ethereal figure at the end of the chamber writhing on the ground, clutching at its abdomen. "Who's that?"
"The owner of this tomb," Lorrik plainly stated. Jresh took a few groggy steps toward the spirit who continued to stir.
"How… how did you…" the spirit muttered into the floor. Digging his elbows to the stone floor, the ethereal figure slowly lifted himself from the ground with a hearty grunt. Just as he was half way toward standing, he looked up to see the Pureblood hovering over him. And before he could offer any words, the warrior clenched his fist and delivering a powerful right hook to the spirit's jaw, sending him crashing back down to the floor. As the ghost lied motionless on the ground, his figure began to slowly fade until he vanished from sight.
"I didn't know you could punch a ghost," Lorrik offered as he looked on, baffled.
"Neither did I," Jresh nonchalantly confessed. Eyeing the holocron on the nearby pedestal, the Pureblood took the pyramid-shaped artifact and held in in his hand, the base of which fit perfectly within the spread of his fingers. "Do you want this?"
"Sure, it'll give us something to bring to Syrosk," Lorrik stated as he raised himself from the floor, holding out a hand to receive the artifact. The warrior tossed the holocron to his companion and the two decided to exit the chamber.
As they made their way through the preceding hallway, Lorrik had to slow his pace so as to not outrun his wounded companion. The warrior's armor concealed any wounds to his body. For all Lorrik knew, Jresh possessed only minor bruises and sores, or was pushing through with numerous broken bones. The two passed through the chamber where the battle between warrior and beast took place. The dim lights of the hanging crystals and sigil in the room's center still shined, numerous droplets of blood and black ichor staining the floor around them.
Before exiting the chamber, Jresh took pause. Lorrik turned to see his companion kneeling, not from pain but from inquiry. He held, within his hand, another hand. The severed right limb of the Massassi guardian.
"I know you warriors like your trophies, but…" Lorrik began, a bit bewildered.
"The beast possessed the most interesting of traits," Jresh explained, as he studied the arm. "I couldn't cut through blackened flesh below the elbow. He blocked my blade with his bare claws, even managed to pierce the containment field and short out the lightsaber for a time."
Lorrik scratched his chin. "Hmm. Sounds like cortosis, but I don't know if its usage dates back to when this tomb was probably built. If fact, this place probably predates the modern lightsaber as we know it."
"More Sith Alchemy," Jresh suggested. "His hands were forged into weapons, flesh fused with some material on a molecular level, transformed into… this. Interesting."
"We might find some answers in this holocron, but I don't-"
"Don't worry, my interest lies in understanding, and finding a way to combat it. I'd never resort to using such measures on myself."
"Well that's a relief. I'd hate to see you becoming anything like that monster," Lorrik stated. Jresh raised himself from the ground, still grasping the Massassi's severed arm. Just as he was about to continue his trek, he found his steps thrown off by a dizziness swirling within his head. The Human rushed to his companion's side and steadied him. "Are you okay?"
"I'm fine. Just tired," Jresh declared. Lorrik stared at the three slashes that stretched across the right side of the warrior's face.
"Jresh, those claws may have been toxic. Let me treat your wounds," Lorrik advised, reaching out with his hand. As his fingertips brushed his partner's cheek, his head immediately recoiled. "Sorry, I know how much you don't like physical contact."
"No it's not that. It's just that it legitimately stings," Jresh begrudgingly admitted, almost ashamed of being in pain. Lorrik let out another soft chuckle as he gently laid a hand on the Pureblood's cheek, hovering his palm over the series of cuts.
"Remember, I'm good with flesh wounds… venom is a bit more complicated," Lorrik explained.
"I think the worst is behind us."
As Lorrik finished mending his companion's wounds, he looked over the Pureblood's shoulder to see movement amongst the shadows. Jresh saw his partner's eyes widen, and turned around to see the Massassi marching into the chamber, missing an arm, and the last wound he inflicted scabbed over with charred flesh mixed with black ichor.
"I'm almost starting to respect his tenacity," Jresh stated as he retrieved the lightsaber from his belt.
"Wait a minute," Lorrik whispered, keeping a hand on his companion's shoulder.
Together they watched at the guardian continued its slow trudge into the chamber. The beast paused only for a moment to stare at the pair, only to resume on its path toward the room's center. Ignoring the two intruders, the Massassi returned to its point of origin within the runed markings upon the ground. It remained perfectly still as the sigil began to light up and once more, the guardian was in stasis.
"I think we've earned a safe passage out of here," Lorrik declared.
"I suppose you and that ghost had an engaging conversation?"
"We did. But I think your demonstration left quite an impact."
The chamber was still. Nothing was left to oppose the intruders. Battered, but not beaten, the two walked side by side toward the tomb's entrance, prizes in hand, ready to present to their master.