From ashes to embers

Dathomir

At first glance, one might assume that the dense obscurity ensconcing the western tree-line of the forest was mist. Upon further exploration, it would be determined that it was, in fact, not. The air was dry, thick, and mottled grey with ash that clung to one’s form upon entry. Birds and other beasts did not vocalize their presence and the lofty star that bathed their world in crimson did not colorize this somber realm. Much like stepping into purgatory, one brought into existence after the cataclysm, this plane seemed unending, inert, and unfeeling.

There was, however, life amongst the barren landscape. A seemingly solitary, cloaked figure stood within a clearing painted in pallid gradation. An energy bow was braced at the ready against leather armguards trimmed in fur, his face shrouded by a generous hood. His masculinity was defined by his broad, chiseled structure and emphasized by the inscribed armaments otherwise adorning him. His deliberate breath stirred ashes in the air but other than the almost patient rise and fall of his chest, he was unmoving. Poised, head slightly cocked as his preternatural senses desperately searched the silence...

There.

His movements were executed with militant precision and suddenly the lusterless world was awash with unnatural light as his calloused fingers nocked the energy bow. Scarlet illumination spilled across the sharp angles of his face and his eyes, which had been closed until now, opened and became singularly focused on a breach in the woods before him. No one made it this far without her knowing…

Fate had prevented Anjali to embark on her already belated keryon gedanes with her wife, until a week ago. Given their respective duties, both mates had agreed to only leave the enclave for a few days, so they would stay within reach of the camp should an emergency happen.

Little did they know that the journey would be longer and farther.

They had both needed this time to bond further and enjoy the wilderness by themselves. Much had happened during this time, including the Clan Mother finally honoring the long tradition of building the weapon of the Force users, the vorsa zhani. Shortly after Cearia had gifted the blue white crystal to her, even before the Beast Warden had expressed her growing interest in the huntress, she had come to realize that the gemstone forged into the cataclysm would be used in her weapon, as it was time she followed in the footsteps of the Sisters that had paved the way before her.

Cearia and her had seen signs in the skies, witnessed creatures follow odd paths, flora appear when they didn't expect it to. Bit by bit, their curiosity had grown; and Anjali had sensed ripples along the complex web of life that bound all survivors on Dathomir.

The wives had discussed their observations and eventually decided to extend their voyage, which would bring them closer to where the cataclysm had begun months ago. Knowing they would cover less ground in a day than a Voritor, Anjali had reached out to her lizard and within two days Iss-Ka had reunited with them. Anjali had hesitated about doing this, but she had known it was the right thing to do.

Whatever was awaiting them at their destination, she believed it would be life-altering.

Night was falling as they progressed through the woods and especially the mist that felt never-ending. It was as if ashes had never fallen to their eternal rest in the area. Anjali had sensed figments of vivid and powerful life a couple of times; and they reminded her of some furtive impressions she had experienced in the past days.

She didn't look back to know that her wife was by her side, even in the thick mist. She knew that Cearia was there, on alert as she was. While Anjali was protective by nature, she wasn't overbearing towards Cearia, for she had all faith in her beloved's abilities to take care of herself, having witnessed her fighting and hunting more than once now.

Iss-Ka walked before or behind them, depending on the time and place, a silent and deadly predator ready to do her mistress's bidding if need be. The venomous lizard was reaching her adult size and was closing in on being three meters long.

When they exited the woods into the open barren landscape, Anjali felt the man before her eyes discerned him with his ablaze arrow.

She stepped outside with calm confidence, hands in sight, although all her senses were ready to call on her magick to defend herself and her companions if confrontation occurred.

"Kisha hash fichat tat jin ajjalani," she said, her voice carrying across the desolated land.

Yes, the gods had called them to this place, and finding a male who appeared to act as guard comforted her in their assumption that something, someone, lived there.

Face covered by the fur lined hood of her cloak, Cearia scanned the drab landscape for the continuing signs that had brought them this far. Life and color had been swallowed whole but something stirred here. The hunter could feel it in her bones. She was not gifted with magick like Anajli, but as a hunter there were always inclinations she trusted that were honed throughout years of training.

They were being watched.

Bow at the ready with an arrow knocked, Cearia pressed forward with Anjali and Iss-Ka through the ash mists. Eerie as the area was, it also held beauty. As if the gods had frozen grey snow from ever reaching the surface, slowly shifting and swiveling in the air as bodies moved through the area.

A layer of cinder rock covered the ground but light on their feet, voritor and hunter made no sound at all. The three explorers had fanned out, not wanting to remain too close in case of attack but close enough to react and defend one another.

When grey was washed with red, Cearia readied her bow in stalemate with the other as Anjali explained how they were brought here. As leader, it was her mate's right to speak and as righteous as their journey was to be here, Cearia was on alert for any sense of attack. As long as there was a weapon trained on her mate, she would respond in kind. Iss-Ka felt similar, her tail swishing along the ground, cinder stones clicking as they rolled under its strength, and was ready to pounce if her mistress commanded it.

At the woman’s words, the male Dathomiri’s head tilted just a measure; similarly to how a wolf might cant their head to understand communication not quite familiar to them. The path of his eyes slowly passed to the other woman and the most tenuous gleam of comprehension lit his fathomless, dark eyes. The canopy of trees above, shrouded in thick ash and shadow, seemed to flex under some unseen presence. Arikos grew lax, his elegantly long but calloused fingers loosening on the bolt laced through his bow.

“It seems She has extended her invitation to you. Please, follow me.” Despite his fierce appearance, Arikos came off as exceptionally polite. He stowed his weapon and then turned his body a quarter turn, motioning to the seemingly endless stretch of identical forest behind him. His brow furrowed as he contemplated introducing himself. Most sisters didn’t bother themselves with asking a male for their name. Social etiquette, considering his lineage and position, always seemed like such a slippery slope.

“I am Arikos, first son of Matier.” He added cautiously, carefully inspecting their expressions for any reaction to the revelation. Then, he turned and began to walk in the direction he had gestured. Their reaction would tell him all he needed to know.

Anjali trusted both her wife and Iss-Ka to act as protectors; and they were among the most powerful allies she could ask for, should a fight occur. She sensed them take position to cover most ground and directions, should other figures emerge. While she didn't sense anyone else but the four of them at the moment; she knew that even her honed senses could be deceived by others who had talents different than her own. Some were masters of the mind while she was anchored into the tangible and natural realm.

She watched the man, reading his body language, and taking in everything she could pick on from him.

What she also felt was their surroundings. There was something alive beneath the decay and desolation. Something powerful, a thirst of life that she understood too well. It was difficult to truly put into words that uncanny intuition that emerged in her mind; but she knew it was there.

And she knew it had something to do with the man before them.

When he spoke of "her" invitation and invited them to follow him, Anjali's memories took her back to her childhood for the briefest moment, and she suddenly wondered whether she might have misinterpreted Mother Arala's words.

This would explain the strong pull, and the signs, and their hike all the way to this ash-covered place.

Prudent not to come to hasty conclusions, she watched him pull his weapon down, and then nodded. She had noticed his extreme politeness, the true sign of a well-trained brother, even though part of her wondered whether it might be his natural inclination as well, for some were less rebellious than others.

She nodded to her wife and clicked her tongue for Iss-Ka to come by her side anew. The Voritor moved to be between both wives, remaining on alert at all times.

When he offered his name, she made the connection. She knew his sister, but Matier? For all she had heard about the powerful witch, she had died in the cataclysm, one of the many losses. Many questions came to the tip of her tongue; but she refrained from asking them for the moment.

Except for one.

"Is that your mother you are taking us to, Brother Arikos?"

While including his name might seem minor to certain Clans, having been raised among the Lavender Rift meant that it was a sign of respect Anjali was granting the man who was now leading them through the thick forest.

Even as the stranger's bow was lowered Cearia kept the arrow trained on him. She only stood down with the nod from her mate. As Iss-Ka scampered closer to Anjali, Cearia placed the arrow back in its quiver but remained holding her bow on approach, equally confused. All in the Undead Fires had heard of Matier and was presumed dead. A witch as powerful as she would have come to find clan and her daughter, Cearia thought.

Her confusion only deepened with how Anjali responded to the nightbrother and made it plain upon her face. Green eyes widened at the respect her usually intolerant attitude toward any male - even if they were well mannered. Was Cearia's more lenient views being slowly adopted by her leader and mate, or was it because this man was born of Matier's blood.

On the other hand, Anjali didn't offer a proper introduction so neither would Cearia. She remained vigilant, looking for any signs of duplicity as she was not gifted as her mate in the ways of magick to sense for such threats. The gods brought them here, but it would be foolish to keep her guard down.