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Marr


Lunafox's Avatar


Lunafox
04.12.2016 , 12:49 AM | #1
The Well of Undying http://www.swtor.com/community/showthread.php?t=532619
The Foundation of All Desire http://www.swtor.com/community/showthread.php?t=769205
Spy Vs. Spy http://www.swtor.com/community/showthread.php?t=858581
Marr http://www.swtor.com/community/showthread.php?t=879214
The Sanctuary of Regret http://www.swtor.com/community/showthread.php?t=930369



Star Wars: The Old Republic

Marr

~Prologue~

It is said, at the moment of death, our life echoes before us—each passing moment, a judgement condemning us to the void or elevating us beyond it. For those whose lessons are not yet complete, it is a battle we must win so that they will not suffer our failings.

During this battle, the ripples of our actions and how they affect those who traverse our life’s journey, weigh one side or the other of the supernal abacus tallying our worth.

I stand at the precipice, overlooking the gloaming where life meets death, with the Force at my side and whether it will be my ally or adversary remains to be seen. While we cannot refuse death, we can resolve how we meet it.

I once believed life to be the enemy and death our solace, but I see now…that is false. It is the proving ground of the Force.

This is the story of my life, my battle—and the sum of the wisdom I would impart to those I leave behind. I offer it freely in the hope of defending my Empire one last time.

This is my final legacy, take it for what you will.


A/N:
Spoiler

JennyFlynn's Avatar


JennyFlynn
04.12.2016 , 05:13 PM | #2
Squee! There isn't much to say yet but knowing you and loving Marr, I'm excited!
Unsubscribed until new story content is provided and/or all companions have returned.


--------{---({@ Defiant Devotion | | Defying Destiny @}}>---}-------

Lunafox's Avatar


Lunafox
04.12.2016 , 05:40 PM | #3
Quote: Originally Posted by JennyFlynn View Post
Squee! There isn't much to say yet but knowing you and loving Marr, I'm excited!
Me too, I couldn't wait to post it. I was pretty inspired last night, wrote that and read it with his voice in my mind like a giddy twit lol.

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taxidermis
05.29.2016 , 08:37 PM | #4
Love it
RIP Begeren. new beginnings on harbinger

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Lunafox
06.11.2016 , 01:45 PM | #5
Quote: Originally Posted by taxidermis View Post
Love it
Thank you, glad you're enjoying. Next part should be on it's way very soon.

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Lunafox
06.17.2016 , 04:42 PM | #6
Star Wars: The Old Republic
Marr


~Chapter One~

We are time’s medium. In death, the omniscient sculptor reveals the final product of his careless art—a single thread of all that we were and all we’ve forgotten. Concealed within the Force, I am relegated to the part of spectator—a witness to my own birth…


I was born of a corpse. That fact alone was enough to breed frightened whispers among our slaves, but hardly surprising considering my father’s reputation. Idle gossip would harden into fact and fact would become history—rife with curses and prophecies and dark entities I would one day learn are all too real.

Cut from my mother’s body by a nervous healer, my first breath was tainted by discomfort and dread, and it was perhaps this moment that colored my expectations of what my life would become. Each breath, each heartbeat, was a battle to be won.

He held me to the light. I was no larger than a meiloorun fruit, marbled with thick blue veins and pasty flesh. Every curdled breath came faster than the last and the blinding heat from the light stung my callow eyes.

The healer snorted and his careless handling told me his judgment was complete. I was imperfect and weak—a blight on the Tacitus name. I squirmed in his hands, protesting his verdict with flailing fists the size of acorns.

How easily he might have squeezed me into a pulp, but something in the way the shadows moved and darkened the room made his eyes bulge. He cast me aside like runted pup and made for the window.

He threw it open and a gust of frigid air came in. Pale and dithering he sat on the window’s ledge and after little debate, he grasped the vines surrounding the window and dropped from sight.

Something gauzy fluttered above me just out of reach. For a time, I believed it was my mother’s ghost watching over me but in truth, it was a curtain, nothing more.

Alone in the dimly lit room, I became aware of the feeble instrument pattering under my ribs. Somehow I knew if the clumsy uncertain rhythm stopped, I would die. Whether it was by will or instinct, the decision was made: I would not surrender without a fight.

Cold dry air churned in the room. The blood soaked nest of swaddling around me dried to a chilly crust. When I railed against it, a metallic stench filled my nose.

The impulse to close my eyes was strong but something warned me not to. If I closed my eyes, my heart would stop. If it stopped, so would I. Another warning urged me to cry out. I obeyed—wailing until the room’s perfect silence was shattered and my face smarted and turned red from the effort.

The door handle rattled. Voices called out for my mother and the healer. When neither answered, several sharp blows rammed the door until it flew open. The same whisper that warned against closing my eyes told me to be still and quiet now. The frail beating in my chest quickened and grew loud in my ears. I was sure it would give me away.

The servants—a man and a woman, rushed in. The door shuddered on its hinges and the two stood mouths agape.

Fear roiled around the woman, a tempest of emotion so vibrant it raised in me an appetite that rivaled the need for something to fill my belly—something to fuel the beating in my chest.

The houseman shut the windows. His breath was like smoke, dispersing as he moved. He rubbed his hands together and blew on his fingers. He covered my mother’s body and turned back the edge of the blanket beneath her shoulders. If not for her ashen skin and sunken eyes, she might have been sleeping.

In restoring her dignity, the man endeared himself to me and I watched him with quiet interest. Instinct told me these were good people and I was not afraid.

The woman lifted me out of the soiled linens and stowed me inside her dress. The heat of her body warmed mine.
She smelled of sour milk and sweat. I curled against her in a ball and felt the tepid heat of her idle milk wet my body.

I fought the urge to close my eyes with renewed vigor. She spoke a kindly gibberish to me, but no sound was as comforting as the steady pounding of her heart.

She settled by my mother’s side and wept while she held me. The houseman raised a fire in the hearth. Setting aside her grief, she took the chain dangling over my mother’s forehead and slipped it into an envelope of clean cloth and stowed it inside her robes.

The man soothed the woman’s shoulders and her trembling eased. I listened to their hasty whispers and watched their blurred faces with wide eyes.

He caressed my back through the woman’s dress and then he spoke. His voice came in a low confident rumble and his vacillating accent told me, he was not born an Imperial but had acquired the accent over time. He struck me as a thoughtful man, even if he was of low birth.

“Lish…see how he looks at us…like he understands.” He stroked his short cropped beard and smiled.

“Poor thing…it would be better if he didn’t. I fear for him, Ailan. He’s come too soon—I doubt he’ll last the night. His little body is so cold.”

She arranged my body against hers and my mouth found the source of her milk. I drank in greedy slurps and for the moment, their voices faded in the bliss that came with nourishment.

“I didn’t want to believe it but perhaps it’s true. The house of Tacitus is cursed. As generous as they’ve been, we need to be careful. Maybe it was the darkness that took our son from us—” He glanced over his shoulder as if expecting the shadows to smother him against the wall.

“Hush Ailan, you’ll scare him. Our boy was born sick not cursed.” She swiped at her eyes and her chest heaved.

“Lish—I’m sorry…I didn’t mean—I…I was thoughtless.” He sighed. “Curse that damn healer. I hope he rots in every hell, abandoning the boy to die like that.”

“Our master will find him,” Lish began with barely restrained bitterness. “And when he does…the coward will die.”

“We need to inform Lord Tacitus.” He frowned and paced to and fro. “Do you think he’ll blame us?”

“No…I don’t think so…we found her…we carried her to bed, we called the healer…what more could we have done for her? It’s not our fault that fool is the only healer within five hundred kilometers.”

“Who knows what he’ll do in anger and grief…”

“He’s more reasonable than the other Sith I’ve seen. We’ll tell him together. He won’t hurt us if we’re holding his son.”

Ailan sighed. “I don’t understand. She didn’t seem sick…no more than you were...”

“The healer said something about her blood pressure…but I don’t know what that means. It doesn’t matter now. See if there’s clothing for the little one.”

After I’d drank my fill, she lifted me away and dressed me in the bantha wool coverings my mother had made. The clothes were too big—at least twice the size I was.

No sooner had she finished wrapping me in a new blanket, a blast shook the household. Trinkets skittered from my mother’s vanity to the floor.

Lish leapt to her feet and I protested the sudden motion and noise. “What’s happening? Are we under attack?” She quailed.

“I don’t know…”

Another blast, this one closer than the last, splintered the roof. Debris fluttered through the gap like falling leaves.

Ailan cast around for a weapon but found none. “We have to get out of here.”

“Don’t be afraid, little one,” she whispered while covering my head.

Screams rose through the ceiling like heat when the attackers breached the stronghold. Ailan crept out of the bedroom and Lish followed. I could hear the other slaves scattering like frightened hens, their cries cut short by the invading Sith. The stairs creaked under the weight of more men creeping upwards.

My rescuers grew pale and wild-eyed with fear.

Flashes of colour slid up the wall and caught my eye before I was plunged under the blanket again. Lish’s heartbeat thundered against my ear. “Don’t cry little one…for the sake of all that is good…don’t cry.” She gasped. “Ailan…Get down—they’ll see you.”

“Shhh. Come on.” Half-crouched, he towed us back to the bedroom. The cover on my face fell away and a blur of smoke and flame surrounded us. Ailan shut the door and pushed a wardrobe against it to slow them down. He threw his gaze around the room and paced as he considered what to do next.

“The window—there’s no other way.” He threw it open and peered down. Rage colored his face. Sprawled at the bottom, lay the body of the healer—his neck, arms, and legs bent oddly, tangles of vines still tight in his fists.
After seeing the healer’s fate Lish shook her head. “I can’t.”

“You can and you will…for me…and for him. The boy needs us…at least until we can find his father.”

“I can’t hold him and climb. I’ll drop him,” Lish whimpered.

“Give him here.”

Reluctantly she passed me over. He tucked me inside his vest and cinched his belt around me to hold me to him.

“Lish…listen to me. Hold onto the trellis, not the vines. They won’t hold our weight. And don’t look down. Go!”

The door shuddered as something large slammed against it.

“Hurry! Someone’s trying to get in.”

Lish swallowed hard and stepped back onto the trellis. No sooner had she started out, Ailan followed. The ramming against the door grew louder, but not loud enough to mask the angry shouts filtering through the door. A lightsaber growled and Ailan swore.

“Faster, Lish. They’re cutting through.”

The wooden trellis shook and swayed with every movement and Ailan muttered prayers, that it would hold them.

His chest was hot and slick with sweat and my body slipped, inching lower with every downward step he took. My foot dropped behind his belt and dangled over his groin. He swore under his breath.

Lish gasped when her feet touched the ground and a loud crash above us suggested the invaders had broken through the barricaded bedroom door. She stared at the dead healer, wide-eyed, slack-jawed and broken at her feet. Mesmerized by the expression death had left on his face, she froze.

“Lish…”

Ailan’s voice broke the spell and she gasped.

He snatched her hand and towed her close to hide among the bushes jutting from the stronghold.

My body jounced against Ailan’s chest. They ducked into an alcove and turned to face each other, my body sheltered between them. He held his breath and Lish’s hand and listened for the men above.

One of the men snickered. “That fool won’t be going far.”

“Course not, he’s dead, look at ‘im. Broke his damn neck trying to get away from us,” another added.

“Just as well. Lord Taxon wants us to sweep for stragglers then torch the place.”

Ailan glanced up toward the window and waited. “I think they’re gone. Stay close to the house, but watch the windows,” he warned.

A trio of fighters screeched overhead and released another volley of fire over the grounds and somewhere close by, the gnashing growl of lightsabers hummed. Staying to the shadows, we inched along the house.

“If we can make it past the wall…we can hide in the forest,” Ailan whispered. He pulled the blanket apart to peek down at me and smiled when I stared up at him. “That’s a good lad. Stay quiet…and we’ll be all right.”

“We can’t stay out all night in this cold,” Lish protested. “And if we make a fire, they’ll catch us.”

“I don’t know what you expect me to do,” Ailan snapped. “I’m doing the best I can.”

“I’m sorry…I’m scared.”

“I know you are. I am too.” He scratched his head. “What I don’t get is why they’re attacking us…”

“I don’t know…Maybe our master angered someone important,” Lish murmured.

The growl of dueling lightsabers edged closer and I sensed panic swell in Ailan’s body. His breathing quickened. He folded one arm around me and peered around the corner of the stone stronghold. He ducked back and shut his eyes. “Dammit.”

“What?” Lish hissed.

“Lord Tacitus—he’s here—but fighting two others. He’s hurt…I don’t think he can’t hold out much longer.” He frowned and pushed me at Lish. “Take the boy.”

She collected me and cradled me close. “You’ll be killed. Don’t go.”

“If our master dies…we lose everything. Stay here. If I don’t come back, go to the forest.”

“You’re unarmed…they’ll kill you.”

“They’re Sith. Weapons won’t save me—I’ll hope our master manages that.”

“Don’t be a fool,” she hissed.

His kiss smothered the rebuke still on her lips and then he turned the corner before she could protest.

Lish spied on the men and held her breath. My father clutched his gut and fell to his knees, but before his challengers could finish him, he threw his hands out, electricity building between them.

A titanic outburst of blue lightning lit the grounds in a blinding radiance that rivalled the brightest day. The hiss of withering lightsabers followed in its wake. Steam lifted from the charred corpse that had been the Sith standing closest to my father.

Ailan tumbled past us and landed face down, five meters away. He pushed up slowly to catch his breath. Though unscathed by the lightning, he collapsed.

Lish cried out and ran to his side. Too late, she realized her mistake and threw her body over mine.

The surviving Sith leapt high, his purple lightsaber growling to life at the apex of his jump.

Lish screamed. Wedged between her and Ailan, I wailed under her weight. A scarlet flash sliced through the air above us. The weapon’s voice was low and deep—the hallmark of a powerful, ancient weapon and one that had glutted on Jedi and Sith alike.

Emerging from the darkness beyond the wall, the weapon struck its intended target with the elegant savagery of a tree viper and returned to the darkness from which it came.

The Sith’s feet touched the ground and his lightsaber receded into its hilt. Something dense and ovoid tumbled down the attacker’s back and rolled to a stop, face up next to Lish.

The headless body advanced three more steps before collapsing. Lish remained frozen in place, her mouth agape.

Ailan caught his breath and pushed himself off the frosty grass. “Lish…are you hurt…the baby?”

“No,” she croaked. Still holding me, she stood with his help.

“I had the wind knocked out of me.” His eyes widened as something else occurred to him. “Lord Tacitus!” He ran to my father’s side and fell on his knees.

“My lord…my lord…” Ailan gasped. His hands moved over the hole burned through his chest, and then to his side to help him sit up.

My father sputtered and coughed. Blood dribbled over his lower lip. “Show me my son…” he whispered.

Lish turned me to face him and I stared at the metal face.

“Help me…remove this.”

Ailan reached around him to unfasten the battle scored mask.

“Give it to him and my lightsaber…it’s all I have left…My wife…I felt her passing in the Force…”

“Yes my lord,” Ailan murmured.

Lish settled me into his arms and I reached for his face with clumsy hands. The amber in his eyes deepened into a darker hue—the blue of oceans, a trait I would inherit.

“He’s small…but I feel the fight in him…”

“What will you name him, my Lord?” Lish whispered.

“Ares…after my father. My son is Ares Tacitus,” he murmured. “He is the last of our line but no one must know his true name. No one. We have…powerful enemies who would kill him to steal his birthright. Teach him to seek Tulak Hord.” His last breaths came in rapid shallow bursts. “Go. Raise him as your own, but not here.”

A flash of pride sparked in his eyes before they dulled and cracked, his bloody spittle a long thread inching closer to my cheek.

The Force ebbed from his body, but for a moment it enveloped me—a fleeting embrace that defied words—or description, except to say that it was my father in his purest form, and for that brief moment I understood the man that he was, and the man I would become—a truth locked in my marrow for the rest of my days.

Death claimed the lines aging his face, leaving behind the husk of a younger man—an ode condemning our furious blood and all its passionate crimes.

It was at this moment I knew—death isn’t the enemy—death is our solace.

Lish lifted me from my father’s arms and kissed the top of my head. Ailan gathered my father’s mask and weapon.

“He deserves better…they both did. I wish we had time to bury them,” Lish whispered.

“They would understand. We have to go.”

The pair didn’t speak as they carried me into the forest and all that was mine, and all that was theirs burned behind us.

Over the years, I dreamt of that night many times, until the fragments formed into memory and truth, and yet one piece to the puzzle always eluded me…

It was not my father’s blade that stayed the attacker’s killing blow—the blade that came from the darkness and returned to it—wielded by what could only have been a ghost or a shadow.

It was a mystery I would never solve in life, only through death would I learn the answer.

Unnoticed by my adoptive parents as they trudged past the stronghold wall, a man stood in the darkness, well hidden among the trees. He watched over us as we traversed the forest, systematically clearing our path of vermin and beasts that would do us harm.

It was he, who dropped the satchel filled with credits and food, enough to sustain our escape.

I peered into the darkness, searching for the answer. Who was he? And then he stepped forward into the moonlight and I recognized him at once.

Scourge.

((to be continued…))

Eiter's Avatar


Eiter
06.17.2016 , 08:38 PM | #7
Well written. Very captivating. I have a new thread to follow, while continuing my Agent story line. I can't chance reading Spy vs Spy before it's done.

Lunafox's Avatar


Lunafox
06.18.2016 , 11:01 AM | #8
Quote: Originally Posted by Eiter View Post
Well written. Very captivating. I have a new thread to follow, while continuing my Agent story line. I can't chance reading Spy vs Spy before it's done.
Thank you for telling me! I hope you'll enjoy it, and when you're done with your agent, I hope you'll enjoy SvS too. ^^

MishaCantu's Avatar


MishaCantu
06.18.2016 , 01:15 PM | #9
Another story to bookmark. Thanks for this Lunafox.

I write poetry myself. Short, sweet and to the point.
I can always get a beginning and an ending to stories I try to write, it is the middle stuff that I have trouble with. Maybe someday.

Anyway, so glad you share with us.

Lunafox's Avatar


Lunafox
06.18.2016 , 05:09 PM | #10
Quote: Originally Posted by MishaCantu View Post
Another story to bookmark. Thanks for this Lunafox.

I write poetry myself. Short, sweet and to the point.
I can always get a beginning and an ending to stories I try to write, it is the middle stuff that I have trouble with. Maybe someday.

Anyway, so glad you share with us.
You're welcome. I'm glad you enjoyed it!

I love poetry, but can't write it to save my life lol.

The middle...yeah, that's always a challenge. But keep at it, that's the only way. ^^