What was once the penthouse Sah'ra had called home had remained vacant for years. Dust settled on every surface, cobwebs building up in the corners and under furniture. These facts aside, it remained much as she had remembered. Volumes of historical collections still resided on shelves or lay open on the desk in the den. As she approached it, she was even able to recall the chapter she had been examining before the hurried rush to escape Imperial space. A single porcelain finger gently traced along the dry paper as she made her way around the desk, her eyes lingering on the phrases and translations she had transcribed.
Years had passed since she flipped through those pages but they had proven fruitful, leading her to a far vaster pool of ancient knowledge. Knowledge that, in time, could aide her in restoring her physical form to what it once was rather than the warped appearance she now bore. Slowly her eyes slid from the pages to her own hand, teeth gritting behind pursed lips at what she saw.
Her brother finally arrived with the crates of tomes and historical collections she had claimed from within the library on Krayiss II, Sah'ra turning to him with a scowl to his back. The big lumbering oaf, hung over and depressed since losing his son. Where once Tren had been an asset, he was quickly proving to have expended his usefulness. She needed new muscle, someone she could rely on to further her goals.
”This is enough. You may leave me now, brother,” Sah'ra said softly, placing a sympathetic hand on Tren's shoulder whilst offering him a kind smile. Sad eyes turned back to her, followed by a nod as he departed. With the door sliding shut behind him, the smile faded.
For hours, she flipped through pages in search of answers. She had the capacity to project herself as whole but she craved a more permanent solution. One that could potentially prolong her life. Finally she stumbled across something that offered promises but that was only the beginning. She still needed someone for the mundane tasks that were below someone of her stature.
The answer had been before her all along, only now coming to the forefront. Closing her eyes, Sah'ra reached out through their bond, searching for her, but there was nothing. Every call to the void was met with silence, yet she could not believe her to be dead.
Days passed, the penthouse returning to it's former immaculate state it had been during Sah'ra's permanent residency, and she had found her answer. What had become of her. Perhaps death would have been more kind than the reality of her situation but it presented Sah'ra an opportunity.
Getting word to the woman was a challenge but now Sah'ra need only to wait, sat upon her sofa and gazing out the window as rain pelted the glass. A glass of red wine rested in her hands, the bottle and a second glass waiting on the table. Once her guest arrived, she would see Sah'ra as she remembered her, free of scars and imperfections, wearing attire that fit to her aesthetic. She need only wait she reminded herself, smiling behind the rim of her glass.
Years had passed since she flipped through those pages but they had proven fruitful, leading her to a far vaster pool of ancient knowledge. Knowledge that, in time, could aide her in restoring her physical form to what it once was rather than the warped appearance she now bore. Slowly her eyes slid from the pages to her own hand, teeth gritting behind pursed lips at what she saw.
Her brother finally arrived with the crates of tomes and historical collections she had claimed from within the library on Krayiss II, Sah'ra turning to him with a scowl to his back. The big lumbering oaf, hung over and depressed since losing his son. Where once Tren had been an asset, he was quickly proving to have expended his usefulness. She needed new muscle, someone she could rely on to further her goals.
”This is enough. You may leave me now, brother,” Sah'ra said softly, placing a sympathetic hand on Tren's shoulder whilst offering him a kind smile. Sad eyes turned back to her, followed by a nod as he departed. With the door sliding shut behind him, the smile faded.
For hours, she flipped through pages in search of answers. She had the capacity to project herself as whole but she craved a more permanent solution. One that could potentially prolong her life. Finally she stumbled across something that offered promises but that was only the beginning. She still needed someone for the mundane tasks that were below someone of her stature.
The answer had been before her all along, only now coming to the forefront. Closing her eyes, Sah'ra reached out through their bond, searching for her, but there was nothing. Every call to the void was met with silence, yet she could not believe her to be dead.
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Days passed, the penthouse returning to it's former immaculate state it had been during Sah'ra's permanent residency, and she had found her answer. What had become of her. Perhaps death would have been more kind than the reality of her situation but it presented Sah'ra an opportunity.
Getting word to the woman was a challenge but now Sah'ra need only to wait, sat upon her sofa and gazing out the window as rain pelted the glass. A glass of red wine rested in her hands, the bottle and a second glass waiting on the table. Once her guest arrived, she would see Sah'ra as she remembered her, free of scars and imperfections, wearing attire that fit to her aesthetic. She need only wait she reminded herself, smiling behind the rim of her glass.
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