Not even three hours later, Malou woke up to the sound of rustling in her room. Shapes began to form the moment her brain was raised from sleep, and she saw the familiar figure of her father. He held what seemed to be a pile of fabrics in his hand, and was headed for the door of her room.
“Wait!” Malou bolted straight up out of bed and struggled to shove her feet into slippers as she stumbled towards her door. A head rush slowed her down, likely a result of her skipping dinner for nothing but cheese and bread the night before. When she finally cleared her head, she ran after her father. Frantically she searched for him, her vision through the Force pouring out into the halls of the castle. She finally found him in the living room, standing before the fireplace. In disbelief, she watched as he dropped a match down onto the logs. They came to life, a bright white in her vision, and danced even more frantically as one by one he dropped the pieces of fabric into the flames. Immediately, a mix of betrayal, fury, and grief filled her. She had not even taken three steps from her room. There was nothing she could have done to stop it.
Malou slammed the door back behind her and screamed out in frustration. In moments her room became a mess as she tore various things from the shelves and dressers via the Force, sending them haphazardly into the suitcase she’d just unpacked the night before. She felt so betrayed by him. Why would he do that? Why was it so important to him that she saw with her eyes and not the Force? What did he gain from it? What compelled him to go so far as to destroy her belongings? Did he want nothing to control her? To get back at her for defying him?
“Something loved is never lost,” she scoffed out loud as she forced her suitcase shut with a firm shove of her two hands. It trailed behind her as she walked from her room and headed straight for her ship. When she reached the exit, one of the castle’s few guards approached her, asking her to wait. He barely got two words in before he was thrown to the side and out of Malou’s way. She knew exactly where she was going, and no one was going to stop her. She would head straight to Alpheridies, find the Tomb of Timos, get that lightsaber, and return. Her father would know pain like she had for years of her life. If he hated her defiance, he would hate her even more one day.
‘Something loved can certainly be lost.’ Only as Malou entered hyperspace did she finally feel reality. She was an acolyte, and though angry and determined, was perhaps aiming a bit out of her league. The Miralukan teen sent out a request for someone to join her on Alpheridies. If she knew Artorgias wasn’t busy, she might have just waited to contact him, but she was impatient. The request briefly detailed the tomb, as well as included the location in which they would meet.
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Whoever answered, they would meet the acolyte at a spaceport on Alpheridies, slumped against a wall, half asleep in the chilly mountain air. She was dressed plainly, in a black set of clothes which blurred the line between poncho, hoodie, and cloak. A cloth piece had been tied around her head to hide her eyes instead of the usual satin or silk pieces she preferred. The spaceport was remote, so other than the one or two workers maintaining it, the platform was empty other than her ship. The only indication of her affiliation were the two sabers clipped to her belt, and the heavy feeling of deep-seeded anger which polluted the area around her.
tag: @Mr. Teatime
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