it was peaceful here on the island, but Verosha Aniseya was never at peace. not really, anyway. her master had taught her not to seek it out.
peace is a lie, he would say, there is only passion.
she had been his acolyte for nearly eight months now. some days were more difficult than others, be it a test of her physical strength or mental acuity, but she could feel herself becoming stronger—and, importantly, more intimately connected to the Force than she had ever been, as a Jedi.
it was the nights that were the hardest. the same nightmare, every time: the corridors of the Jedi Temple, each corner burned within her memory. a chase ensuing for an entity she could never quite reach.
always waking with a cold start and her name on her lips, reaching for her sister—her lifeblood that she had lost.
if the fates would allow it, Osha might find solace in a dreamless sleep. on nights like tonight, though, she was left to her own devices, crawling out of the cave as quietly as the skura that burrowed in the sands here, her practiced pilgrimage to the bathing pools designed not to disturb her master from his slumber—or. . . .so she thought.
his presence clouded her senses, drifted her consciousness away from anything concrete in favor of the idea of him. it was nauseating—no, intoxicating, and she knew that if she allowed herself to linger in it that it would eventually consume her.
her voice cut through the tension.
"Would it kill you to announce your arrival, Master?" the word felt heavy on her tongue, like it didn't belong to him. "I can feel your stare. It taunts me."