Varyn watched the fight and hated every minute of it, but he had a confidence that Vahliri would come out on top. It had been a mess of blows and strikes, lightning and punches, but the moment he saw that blade cleave through Vahliri's arm, his gut dropped.
His hand fell instinctively to his lightsaber, but it would be too late. Not that he'd ever make it to her. Raze would stop him or any of the dozen other people here. The moment seemed to freeze and Varyn was shocked when it was Raze that stepped in to stop the final blow.
He wanted to rush over to her but he knew he couldn't. Even she wouldn't have appreciated it if he did. It would have only made things worse, so he stood there, hand squeezing the lightsaber hilt on his belt not because he had any intention of drawing it but just because he knew the metal of the hilt wouldn't buckle under the pressure of his death grip.
He was overwhelmed with a flood of emotion. He worried for her. Genuine fear. Not the thrill of a scary movie or rush of a wild starship ride but that aching, gnawing fear that you felt in the pit of your stomach and never told anyone about. A primal feeling that no matter how hard one tried it was impossible to stamp out entirely. The kind that made you feel sick to your stomach and like a grip around your heart. He was afraid she would die, that she could have died. He was afraid of what might happen to her now.
And the fear was quickly replaced by another feeling. An anger that welled within him that was overpowering. An anger that made his hands tremble as he clenched them even tighter. Not anger at Caelian or Raze but at himself. An anger that he wasn't strong enough to stop this all from happening. A pure and overflowing rage because he was helpless. It was a sickening feeling that made him want to tear the entire galaxy apart at its seams. It was the primal need for control and the sudden realization that he would do anything to get it. To make sure he never had to watch something like this happen again.
His hand fell instinctively to his lightsaber, but it would be too late. Not that he'd ever make it to her. Raze would stop him or any of the dozen other people here. The moment seemed to freeze and Varyn was shocked when it was Raze that stepped in to stop the final blow.
He wanted to rush over to her but he knew he couldn't. Even she wouldn't have appreciated it if he did. It would have only made things worse, so he stood there, hand squeezing the lightsaber hilt on his belt not because he had any intention of drawing it but just because he knew the metal of the hilt wouldn't buckle under the pressure of his death grip.
He was overwhelmed with a flood of emotion. He worried for her. Genuine fear. Not the thrill of a scary movie or rush of a wild starship ride but that aching, gnawing fear that you felt in the pit of your stomach and never told anyone about. A primal feeling that no matter how hard one tried it was impossible to stamp out entirely. The kind that made you feel sick to your stomach and like a grip around your heart. He was afraid she would die, that she could have died. He was afraid of what might happen to her now.
And the fear was quickly replaced by another feeling. An anger that welled within him that was overpowering. An anger that made his hands tremble as he clenched them even tighter. Not anger at Caelian or Raze but at himself. An anger that he wasn't strong enough to stop this all from happening. A pure and overflowing rage because he was helpless. It was a sickening feeling that made him want to tear the entire galaxy apart at its seams. It was the primal need for control and the sudden realization that he would do anything to get it. To make sure he never had to watch something like this happen again.