Chapter 4 - Above Dathomir by RepeatOdyssey part 2

Chapter 3: Year 2-DiscoveryNotes:(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter TextThe traveling further south over the past months hadn't been as bad as the first year of traveling had been. As Cal proceeded south, the amount of bodies of water increased to much more comfortable levels. He no longer needed to rely on Dathomir's infrequent rainfall, or at least it wasn't a matter of life or death if it rained or not. 

At these bodies of water Cal never stopped for more than a few days, maybe a week. Giving himself time to rest, recuperate, and catch up much needed meditations. Never letting the dark influence of the planet get a permanent hold on him. 

Cal had no idea how long he had been trapped on Dathomir, a few months over a year was his best guess. At some point in his travels he would have turned 15. The knowledge of being older did little to help his situation, but it was at least partially comforting. He had lived longer than he had expected on this death trap of a planet. Time still goes on without him. The whole thought of it made him remember his time back at the temple. A time that now seems like ages ago to Cal. He wondered what some of the others he had grown up with were doing. He hadn't seen any of his friends after he left the Jedi temple when he was chosen to be Master Tapal's padawan. Many of his fellow younglings had been taken as padawans that day as well. He wondered what they were up to now. Were they safe? How was the war effort? Was the war still going on at all? Why had the 13th Battalion betrayed him and master? Did other clones betray their jedis as well, or was it just the 13th? Did anyone know what had accrued aboard the Albedo Brave?

All questions Cal wouldn't have the answer to any time soon. He may never get any answers at all. The young Jedi wasn't at all optimistic about ever making off Dathomir.

Dealing with wildlife had gotten considerably easier, or really Cal had just gotten better at it. Luckily Cal had never had to fight off a rancor, only seeing a few over the past months, and always from afar. 

But even with his increased skill and combat prowis, it hadn't stopped Cal from acquiring many more scars streaking across his body. Most of which were across his arms and legs, though a few had made it on his torso, neck, and face. 

The medkit had long run dry, forcing Cal to take longer rests to heal, and having to watch his wounds more closely for infection among other nasty things. The bundle of glow rods had run out shortly after, by pure accident. Cal had rolled over in his sleep, snapping the few rods he had left. One of his two rebreathers had been partially melted by those Dathomirian spiders that spit acid. Not that Cal had any use for them, nor could he use more than one at a time, even if he had a need for a rebreather. That didn't keep him from keeping the one he still had that worked. He had long abandoned his cooking pots, finding he didn't use them and they were too heavy and cumbersome for constant travel. But for some unknown reason Cal was still holding onto those six useless short range comlinks.

His robes, along with his bag, had to be replaced about a months back after accruing too many tares and acid holes. They had long been covered in stains ranging in colors from red, brown, yellow, and green. He now wore a simple cloth, made from the hide of one of those large three eyed lizards, wrapped around his waist. His few belongings, now held in a bag made from the same creature. The cloth covered his modesty but left his chest bare. Cal could make a larger one, to cover his chest as well, but found that he didn't need to nor did he care to. Back when he had been a padawan he would never have dreamed of not being covered up, but no one was around to gawk at Cal's scared and bruised ridden body. Dathomirian days and nights were never uncomfortably hot or cold, and rain was infrequent enough to not matter. 

After traveling for how many miles, Cal didn't know, he had finally come upon something different to the flatlands and dead woods he had been traveling through sense descending down to Dathomir. A vast canyon system that went on as far as he could see in every direction. Like a giant scar from a long forgotten planetary wound. Pillars of stone reaching out of the endless canyon system, with the occasional mountain as well. The whole bottom of the scar is covered in swampland and the rare river. 'So this is where all of Dathomir's freshwater is?' 

In the middle of this mass canyon system lay a single mountain that dwarfed all others around it. And at its top was Cal's first sign of intelligent life. A massive stone temple-like structure that crowned the mountain peak it was carved into.

[Break]

The descent down into the swamplands at the bottom of Dathomir's scar, was much easier than Cal had expected. There was a carved path he found while looking for a safe area to climb down. The path had blended into the cliffside, and only revealed itself to Cal upon closer inspection. The carved path snaked itself down the side of the cliff, sometimes making a dip into the stone. 

Upon closer inspection along the path Cal noticed several animal tracks, marked into the thin layer of red sand that coated the trail. Most of the tracks were that of the Dathomirian spiders, but one impression was of a creature Cal did not recognize. A large three toed creature that seemed to switch between a biped and quadruped. It's forward limbs had two large clawed fingers and a smaller third clawed finger. Whatever these tracks belong to Cal knew he had no wish to meet it.

Before Cal had no real plan other than head south endlessly until his meditations decided to reveal his goal or they changed the direction they were leading him to. But now it seems that his goal has been shown to him, or at least a part of it. The structure sculpted into the peak of the distant mountain, still miles of. From the bottom of the cliff Cal couldn't even see the landmark. When he had been at the clifftop, he couldn't get any real detail out of the structure other than two giant obelisk-like structures that jetted out of the top. It reminded Cal of the jedi temple on Ilum for no other reason than they were both carved into the landscape. The temple on Ilum carved into a cliff of ice, and the Dathomirian structure carved into a mountain's crown. 

Whether the structure was still in use, had anyone living in or near it, or what purpose it was built for Cal hadn't the slightest idea. Nor did he know the reason the force was guiding him to this structure, and what lay in store for him when he got there. 

His master's last words played back into the forefront of his mind; "Remember, trust only in the Force."

But outside of the force's push to the mountain Cal also felt the planet's malevolent presence, it's connection to the dark side, also leading him to the temple as well. For what reasons was also unknown, but whatever they were, Cal didn't trust the planet's intentions. If it really was the planet to blame for this dark presence that followed Cal whenever too much time elapsed between meditations.

After well over a year on this red rock, Cal had begun to believe there weren't any sentient creatures on Dathomir. He really should have listened to the debriefing the clone commander gave when the 13th Battalion was first assigned to the Dathomirian star system. All the temple told him was that sentient creatures had at one point inhabited Dathomir, whether they still did was still up for debate as far as Cal was concerned. Or at least until Cal heard the scream of pain, that clearly wasn't that of a beast but a person. It was too emotional and fearful, full of purpose to be a sound uttered by a beast. 

The sound had originated from further into the swamp, and was distant enough that if Dathomir's wilds were anything but dead silent then Cal wouldn't have heard the sound. Rushing towards the person that had uttered the sound, Cal rounded a smaller pillar of stone to find half a dozen Dathomirian spiders scuttling around a seemingly lifeless body. Cal had been too late. 

Filling with a rage Cal hadn't known he was capable of. Cal lit his weapon, the sound and blue light alerting the spiders of Cal's presence. Rushing the pack before they could spit at him, Cal felled two before they were able to respond, slicing them in two. Cal jumped back before the bodies could explode, and to avoid a glob of acid that had been aimed at his torso. Jumping back into the fray, Cal found himself falling into the rhythm of combat he had honed over his time on the planet. Having fought off Dathomirian spiders countless times before, and in larger numbers than this, it wasn't long until the last spider had been ended. 

Making his way over to the body, avoiding the pools of spider gut acid, Cal had a closer look at the person he had failed to save. It was clearly a near humanoid species, almost like a zabrak with the many spikes that protruded from the head, along with the many tattoos that painted the corpse. The only reason Cal was hesitant on labeling it a Zabrak was it's color of skin. Zabraks usually had the same skin tones of humans, or a pale gray. But this person had sickly yellow skin that was nothing like a Zabrak from Iridonian, their home world. Perhaps it was a subspecies, because besides that unnatural skin color, it was clearly a Zabrak. 

His body was covered in many lacerations and bite marks, his red blood had a few splotches of a yellowish green liquid that was most likely the acidic poison from the spiders that killed him. He wore only a pair of pants made of animal pelts, much better than the cloth Cal used. Luckily the pants seemed to be mostly undamaged, and with a few small adjustments it would probably fit Cal rather nicely.

Next to the dead Dathomirian was a large mace, too large to be wielded in a single hand. Unlike the pants, the weapon was far from primitive in looks. Made of a black metal Cal couldn't recognize, the weapon seemed to be well crafted and maintained. It seemed to be undamaged by the spider acid that covered it. Unlike the rebreather Cal had lost to spider acid a while back.

After liberating the man of his pants, that he would no longer need, Cal started to dig a grave using the force to move the dirt and stones. The work was faster than Cal had expected, the swampland having soft earth with few large stones. It wasn't long until an adequately deep hole had been made, deep enough for Cal to stand in without his head reaching the top.

Cal moved the body into its new resting place, before covering it with dirt, as well as several layers of stones to ward off animals from digging up the grave and eating the corpse. He intended to use the mace as the grave's marker, and went to retrieve the weapon.

Moments before his hand touched the weapon, he was filled with a sensation that washed over his body, bringing with it a sense of familiarity. He hesitated, pulling his hand back before it reached the mace handle. The sensation was familiar to him, but he couldn't quite place it. All he knew is that it pulled on his sense of the force. He went for the weapon again, and once again hesitated moments before making contact, the sensation once again washing over him.

Steeling himself, he reached for the weapon for one last time. The uproar washed over him again, growing a hundredfold when his fingers made contact. He quickly found himself looking through the eyes of another. He was in an open arena, made of red sandstone, clearly still on Dathomir. As the vision came to him, a word popped into his mind; Nightbrother. Many Dathomirians, now known to be Nightbrothers watched on as the person Cal could see through faced off against another Nightbrother. The Nightbrother Cal had the vision off was the same Yellow skinned Nightbrother Cal had just buried. The Yellow Nightbrother faces a Nightbrother who was a good head taller than him, with a build to match. This one had pale almost pink red skin, wielding a large two handed sword. The Yellow one carried his mace.

The pink one charged, aiming for an overhand swing. Yellow met the blow with his mace, swinging upwards trying to throw the other weapon off balance. Instead the colossal sword's swing had too much power behind it for the mace to stop it. The yellow Nightbrother's weapon flew from his hands, he had lost. The pink Nightbrother now has the option to kill his opponent or spare him. The winning Nightbrother gives a victorious smirk before lowering his weapon. The loser has been spared, a humiliation that will see him cast aside, exiled from the village to fend for his own in the wilds of Dathomir.

As the vision fades back into the present, Cal looks down at the mace in his grip. Turning it over in his hand, there is a nick in the mace's head. Where the large sword had damaged it with it's massive swing. Looking over at the grave of the exiled Nightbrother, Cal remembered the emotions he had shared with the losing Nightbrother through the vision; the echo in the force.

That's where Cal had felt that sensation before. Psychometry the ability to tap into echos in the force. Allowing the force users gifted with this rare ability to acquire information, sight, sound, and emotions from events associated with an item. Cal Kestis was one of these few.

He had forgotten about his ability over his time stuck on Dathomir. He hadn't run into any echoes while on the planet until now. He had even forgotten the feeling of an echo's presence.

Having finally retrieved the weapon, Cal placed it at the head of the grave, driving the handle half way into the ground. 

He backed up from the grave, giving a silent moment for the deceased. The last thought that came to mind before moving on was; Will there be anyone to bury me, or to light the fire of my pyre?

[Break]

A few days down in the planet's scar, and travel had slowed down to a crawl. The landscape was filled with obstacles that slowed the jedi's travel at best, at worst forced him to turn back to find a new path. The wet ground made travel slow and exhausting. Large stone pillars and walls can stop travel completely and force Cal to find another way. Wildlife seemed to be more aggressive than before, attacking him at every turn. The only real comfort was the over abundance of water and food to hunt and scavenge. 

Nights are particularly dangerous making sleeping out in the open less a gamble and more a death sentence. 

Another day in the swamplands of the canyon was about to end, and Cal needed to find some kind of shelter soon or risk facing the dangers of Dathomir in the dark.

A few dozen feet up a stone pillar was a natural cavity, that would provide more than adequate shelter. Few Dathomirian creatures were expert climbers. Even the Dathomirian spiders couldn't climb straight up solid rock. Starting his accent up the rockwall, he had made it only a few feet from the cavern when felt, more than saw, movement from above him. Jumping the few dozen feet to the ground below, Cal narrowly missed the large mass that had attempted to collide with him. He fell skillfully down to the base of the pillar, rolling to cushion the fall. The creature that had swung it's massive arm looked down at him from above, before jumping over the edge to follow the jedi. Cal was forced to bolt out of the way, the creature landing with a thud where he had been standing moments ago. 

This large, seemingly biped beast was easily two or three times larger than himself, and probably five times the weight. With a thick gray scaly hide with bony protrusions lining it's back and arms, its two legs seemingly built for climbing and jumping across the mountains and swamplands in which it lives. No wonder it went unfazed by the fall. It's two massive arms were as long as Cal was tall, with three dagger-like claws protruding from it's fingers. It's lipless mouth showed large, intimidatingly sharp teeth, it's mouth flanked on both sides by a pair of tusks. The two pitch black eyes holding no emotion or intelligence as it gazed at Call.

"Why is every creature on this Force forsaken rock absolutely terrifying?!" His out of practise voice coughed at the beast.

The monster lunged at Cal, swinging it's massive arm with its full body weight at the jedi. Cal rolled under the beast's attack, illuminating his weapon and cutting at its feet. The creature screamed in pain, swiftly making distance between itself and Cal, the wound on it's right leg mostly superficial.

If the creature's emotionless eyes didn't give its state of mind away, it howls of pain and fury most definitely did.

Another reckless swing aimed at him, this time coming much faster. And with Cal still recovering from the previous attack, he is given little option other than to block. Muscle and hide clashed against blue plasma. For a split moment the hide of the beast resisted the blade, Cal fearing that it's hide may resist his weapon. But the fear was dashed when the hide was severed, followed by the beast's muscle and bone, it's left arm was sundered off at the wrist. The blow still had weight behind it, knocking Cal back, but he was given ample time to recover as the creature grasped at the damaged appendage. 

The next attack of the creature was slow, and it's weight was thrown off by its missing arm. Dodging under the right arm, Cal swung upwards, cutting its other weapon. The creature collapsed onto the ground with a thud. Bounding onto it's back, Cal thrust the blue blade into the predator's skull, killing it.

A short but exhausting fight against another one of Dathomir's nightmare creatures.

Unbeknownst to the exhausted jedi, a small hunting party of Nightbrothers had watched the confrontation unfold from afar. Departing soon after Cal made his way up the cliff to the cavern. The Nightsister would want to know of the foreigner wielding the weapon of a Jedi, who was able to kill a Nydak with little danger.

[Break]

The last many months Merrin's time had been predominantly devoted to meditations. Not because she wished to grow more skilled in her Magicks, nor was it out of devotion to her craft. The light she had sensed during a visit to Ilyana's cliff had quickly become her obsession, naming it the Light of Dathomir. She watched it through her meditations as it marched on its path to the mountain, a direct path to her. Just a few weeks ago it had entered the canyon/swampland that surrounded the Mountain in which she lived. 

Merrin wouldn't lie, a small part of her hoped the Light's direct path to the Nightsister burial grounds ment it was coming for her. What was giving off this light in Dathomir's magick she had no clue, and it didn't really matter to her. All she cared about was that traveling ever closer in her direction, and one day it would reach her. She would hold on to this light like her life depended on it. In some ways she felt it did. If she wore to lose this like she had lost Ilyana her heart would surely break. She wouldn't let this light be lost to her.

Some part of her mind knew she only cared about this Light because it reminded her of Ilyana, and her light. But this didn't stop her from swiftly gaining a dependence on her meditation to view the Light.

Just as Merrin was about to start another session of meditation she was interrupted. 

An elderly Nightbrother who was often forced to carry messages and news from the Nightbrother village, halfway up the mountain, to Merrin near the peak. A tortures climb, not taking into account his age. When a Nightbrother grows too old to be a member of a hunting party they are usually treated one of two ways. Either they become a well respected member of the village that is honored for surviving to old age, or they are treated like dirt shamed for being useless to the Nightbrother village. This Nightbrother seems to be the latter. To Merrin it seemed that the deciding factor for how one is treated is based on the Nightbrother's personality, and how they carry themselves rather than how skilled they had been as a hunter.

"Why have you desturbed me." Spoken in the Dathomirian language. "It was made clear that I would have no distractions from your village." She spoke in a low, scathing tone.

The elderly Nightbrother acted as if Merrin's words had cut him like a knife. He cowered away, fearful of the Nightsister. It was almost amusing really. He was old enough to be Merrin's grandfather. For all she knew he very well could be. Nightbrothers are used as breeding tools by the Nightsisters, and are never kept around to raise the infant sisters. 

"N-news of a foreigner sighted in the swamplands north of here." The Nightbrother hid behind the door frame of her place of dwelling, hoping to avoid the Nightsisters' hard gaze.

This news was at least interesting. It wasn't often foreigners were seen on Dathomir. When they did come to the planet, they usually went to the flatlands to hunt and capture Rancor pups. Why anyone wanted such creatures was beyond Merrin. Nightsisters could only tame the creatures through strong magicks. 

Though the information was intriguing it was hardly important. The message could have been related to her during one of her routine visits down to the Nightbrother village she took once a moon cycle. The foreigner would either leave soon, finding the planet too dangerous, or die.

"Why does this news warrant my immediate attention!" Her words harsh with a warning undertone. His safety depending on the response given.

"He carried w-with him a sword of plasma. A j-jedi's weapon. He was seen slaying a Nydak with it, two weeks' travel north of here." The Nightbrother clarified. 

When Merrin jumped to her feet in rage, the Nightbrother collapsed onto the floor. Believing her wrath was aimed at him. But what had enraged the Nightsister was the news itself, rather than the messenger.

How dare a Jedi step foot on Dathomir, a kin of the ones who massacred her sisters and killed her beloved Ilyana. For what reason had they come back? To finish what they had started? To relish in the crime they had committed? 

But Merrins anger was soon replaced with pleasure. A smile taking hold on her face. With the coming of this Jedi came opportunity. The opportunity to gain some amount of revenge for her sisters' death. To see slain the foe of her lost coven. It would be a small victory, but her sisters and mother practically called out to her to perform this new task of hunting and slaying this enemy.

She went over to the Nightbrother, too paralized by fear to scurry away from the Nightsister. Reaching her hand out to him, the Nightbrother only took it because refusing the instruction, even if non verbal, of a Nightsister was never an option for a Nightbrother. It went against everything they were taught. 

Helping him to his feet, she relayed instructions for him to go down to the Nightbrother village and have the hunting party that had seen the Jedi to come up the mountain. Merrin needed to know every detail of their sighting of the jedi. She would not fail at this task.

[Break]

Cal absolutely hated this planet's swamplands. Seemingly impossible to travel in a straight line. He had to make detour after detour, and often was forced to backtrack and find another way. Lakes of quicksand, nests of Dathomirian spiders, and sudden landslides. Cal was lucky if all he ran into in a single day was deep swampland that would take hours to travel more than a mile in. More often than not he would be forced to backtrack, taking another few hours, so he could find another path all together. 

All the while the swamps wildlife were dead silent. 

Though Cal believed he was finally starting to learn how to read the land, which paths would force him back, and which were true. Thanks to this developing skill his travels were starting to move faster than a crawl. He could finally see the mountain above the horizon (when he climbed a tree). His goal was now in sight, and for once seemed more than just a theoretical. 

But something was off.

Cal listened to the swampland around him, and yes something was very off. A scout trooper had once told Cal that if the forest of a planet suddenly went silent, something was off, and that one should start paying extra attention to the world around them.

This advice had never helped Cal on Dathomir. The planet was almost completely silent, be it day, night, dawn, or dusk. Only ever interrupted by rain, the noise Cal would make as he walked, or moments before some Dathomirian beast was about to take a bite out of him. The constant stillness was almost maddening. 

But right now the surrounding wilderness was practically screaming at Cal.

The birds screeched their songs that froze the blood, beating their wings violently. Lizards yelling with all their being, slapping their tails, and sometimes bodies against whatever was closest. Insects chirping and ruffling together with honest intent. All of Dathomir's nature booming with all it's worth.

To be honest Cal preferred the silence over the overwhelming noise.

But with this racket Cal felt something. A message maybe? More like a warning. And with that thought the swampland choir abruptly stopped. The quiet returning only for a moment before being filled again with a new noise. The 'thwish' of a tight string being released, and the 'buzz' of hot plasma burning the air as it flew through the sky.

Acting on a mix of instinct and the pull of the force, Cal lunged to his right. A purple plasma bolt flew over the spot he had occupied a moment ago. The bolt would have burned a hole to his heart had he not moved. 

Turning to face his assailant, Cal saw three Nightbrothers about twenty meters away. All carried plasma bows, two drawn back and aimed. The two readied shots were released, soaring at their intended target with deadly accuracy. In the time it took for the purple bolts to cover the distance, Cal illuminated the blue lightsaber. With practiced precision, drilled into him over years of training long abandoned but not forgotten, Cal intercepted the killing shots with his saber. The bolts reflected in random directions.

"I don't want to fight you!" 

The middle Nightbrother answered with a sneer before yelling in a language unknown to Cal. 'Great! They don't speak Galactic Common.' The only word he recognized was "Jedi", so they definitely knew what he was but still chose to attack him.

They drew their bows back for another volley, this time with all three aimed.

"Pleas-"

The volley flew. Cal, deciding they wouldn't or couldn't listen, reflected the attacks back with intent. Two of the Nightbrothers crumbled from their own shoots burning into themselves. The third was lucky enough to have only taken the plasma into his dominant shoulder, making it impossible to draw his weapon.

Cal let the Nightbrother flee, not liking the idea of running the injured man down. 'I really hope I don't regret this later'

[Break]

He regrets it. That first ambush was only the beginning. The whole swampland that days ago seemed empty was now filled with hunting parties ranging in numbers from two to half a dozen. All of the gunning for Cal. 

The Nightbrothers seem to be able to move through the landscape as silently as the wildlife. And could disappear and travel through it astonishingly fast. The only warnings Cal ever got was the wilds screaming, disturbing the silence of the planet. Oddly enough his hunters never seemed to notice the swampland choir.

For what reason he was hunted? Was it for the two he had killed in self defence? Doughtfull, they had attacked him first, and somehow knew he was a jedi.

He had tried on multiple occasions to try and speak to the Nightbrothers, and they only responded in Dathomirian. From what Cal could gather they were most likely just yelling profanities, insults and threats at him.

Cal was pretty sure the whole planet had it out for him.

Notes:I think I'm going to start revealing the name of the next chapter in the end notes. So here...

Next Chapter: Chapter 4-Year 3-Loss

Next Chapter should be up next Saturday.

Chapter 4: Year 3-LossNotes:(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter TextThe foot of the mountain was at last within reach. No longer just in thought or sight, but under Cal's feet. He had made it to the mountain. He had finally made it to his destination, more or less. His real goal was the ancient structure Cal had sighted all so long ago. A structure that Cal couldn't even see at the moment. The red mist of Dathomir was much thicker this day, obscuring the top half of the natural wonder, and hiding Cal's true objective from his eyes. 

It had taken him, at a guess, around a year to travel the distance from the path into the planet's scar to this alp. Traveling across miles of hostile swampland, fighting off the deadly wildlife, and avoiding Nightbrother hunters whenever possible.

It took Cal no time at all to find an appropriate path up the mountain. Following the tracks of Nightbrother's had shown the way. The path was wide, subtle, and littered with humanoid tracks. It seemed the Nightbrothers either lived on this mountain, or visited frequently. Whether this would be for hunting, worship, or something else Cal could only really guess.

Making his way up the start of the wide trail up the mountain, Cal looked back at the swampland behind him. Despite being an absolute death trap, the Dathomirian swamps held a sense of security to them, they were familiar. This mountain was new and unknown. Back when Cal had been an apprentice his sense of adventure would have driven him forward. Master Tapal had always said Cal was drawn to wonder and the unfamiliar. Traveling across the galaxy was one of the few upsides to the war. Always a new, always an unknown.

But after spending years on Dathomir everything new and unfamiliar scared him. Making him hesitate to travel up this unfamiliar terrain.

And no sooner did the thought of turning back leave his mind when something changed. A presence in the force. Cal hadn't been the best when it came to sensing lifeforms through the force. His lack of skill had only become more apparent while on Dathomir. Usually he only sensed something moments before it pounced. Leaving little time to respond. His force senses only peaked when someone who was force sensitive was near, usually other jedi. So when Cal felt this presence behind him, back up the path he had temporarily turned from, he had been filled with a false feeling of comfort. But turning back around soon made it clear that it wasn't another jedi Cal had perceived. 

A cloud of green smoke and mist dissipated to unveil four Nightbrothers as well as one other individual, the one who Cal had felt through the force. Flanked by two Nightbrothers, on each side, each pair having one wielding a plasma bow and the other a two handed mace. She was dressed in blood red and stone gray robes, with a matching red hood piece that covered her whole head besides her face. What little skin Cal could see was light gray, painted with gray tattoos only a few shades darker than the skin. Because so little of her face showed, it was hard for Cal to guess her age. Her brown eyes glared daggers at the Jedi before her. Cal didn't need the force to feel her hostility aimed at him. The hate was far deeper than Cal could understand. 'This is not looking good'

"You trespass, Jedi" Her voice though reprimanding and hostile, Cal still felt a little comfort in it. Her accent carried her words with confidence and power that he enjoyed more than he really should have. 'It has been too long since I have heard others voice outside of my own, and Nightbrothers shouting insults and threats I don't care to understand.'

His own response held little confidence, his nerves failing him. "I-I'm sorry. I have been stranded on this planet for years. I only wish to find some way off Dathomir. I just need a little help. I am no threat to you." His words turned almost pleading as he spoke.

His words floored the Nightsister. This response was far from what Merrin had expected from the Jedi. Her expectations of why the Jedi was here had been entirely different. She had expected him to be seeking the life of the last Nightsister, to finish what the last jedi had started. Or he was looking for some artifact or treasure on the planet. But to only be seeking some way off the planet he had supposedly been stranded on had the Nightsister's mind faltering, but only for a split moment. Her body and face failing to register her surprise and confusion. 

"You lie!" Merrin spat "Jedi are nothing but liars that bring nothing but death to Dathomir! Your people's presence will not be tolerated!"

As she yelled Merrin gathered the planet's magick into her palms. Her jedi opponent stepping back in alarm. Casting her spell, a green vapor enveloped the two mace wielding Nightbrothers. Their weapons coated with ichor to resist the sundering plasma blade of the Jedi. Their bodies, infused with magick to numb pain and exhaustion to a powerful degree. Strengthening their muscles and reactions to match the skill of combat this Jedi possessed. Many of her hunting parties in the past had come back injured from fighting this warrior. Not one hunter had ever been able to touch him, let alone harm him to any degree. But with her magick bolstering her hunters, this would surely change.

Cal watched on as the green fumes enveloped two of the Nightbrothers. Whatever it was doing to them, it was most definitely not good news for Cal. 

The two mace wielders, one with green skin the other orange, charged Cal with a speed he hadn't been expecting. Cal's weapon was armed in moments, deflecting the plasma bolts the two Nightbrother archers had fired at Cal. One bolt deflected into the green mace wielder, failing to slow his charge. The other bolt reflected harmlessly into the air. 

The two mace wielders were on top of Cal not a moment later, the orange one taking the first swing. His weapon coming from the right. Cal dodged the attack only to find himself in the path of his other attackers swing. Cal raised his weapon up to meet the mace, hoping to cut the weapon in two like he had done before when attacked by Nightbrothers. But instead his weapons path had been halted by the mace, locking the weapons together. 'That's new.' Kicking the green Nightbrother to end the weapon lock, and to give himself some room, Cal felt a force strike his back. His skin burned and boiled under the hostile touch of this unknown force. 

Turning, Cal sighted the robed figure, green energy in her hands. She must have shot this green force into my back. 'When had she gotten behind me?'

He wasn't given any time to think as another attack from the orange mace wielder was incoming, accompanied with two purple bolts of plasma. Rolling out of the three deadly attacks paths, Cal had misjudged which direction to escape to. 

He found himself still partially crouched on the ground, from his roll, with a downward death stroke from the green Nightbrothers mace heading his way. Pivoting on his right leg, using the force to enhance his movements, Cal turned his body with the direction of the weapons path. This turned the would-be direct and deadly hit into a glancing blow on Cal's left ribs. This no doubt bruising or breaking a few. Cal then retreated back words, avoiding more of the robed figures green energy that Cal was really coming to hate at this point.

Cal found himself exhausted with bruised and broken ribs, and a burned hole in his back. Luckily there was a slight break in combat, as the mace Nightbrothers closed the distance and the figure and archers readied their next attacks. Taking these precious seconds, Cal took hold of the force.

Wielding the force like a battering ram, Cal pushed with great power at his assailants. They toppled over, as invisible masses slammed into them. 

Without hesitation Cal fled back down the path, away from the mountain he had traveled to. His injuries temporarily numbed from the adrenalin. All but the burn, which still set his skin boiling. He gave no time for the five to recover. 

As he fled, the robed figure screeched at him in Dathomirian. Her words lassed with rage, defeat, and another emotion that Cal wasn't sure he was hearing right. Grief. 

[Break]

The elderly Nightbrother messenger swiftly left after giving his report to Merrin, fearful of the Nightsisters growing displeasure. Another hunting party sent to hunt and kill the Jedi had come back empty handed. 

The Jedi had been injured from their fight weeks ago, but after his use of Jedi magick he fled. He had not been seen since. No matter how many hunting parties she sent after him to hunt him down, or patrol around the foot of the mountain. He had avoided/hidden from all of them. All the hunters ever found were tracks that suddenly ended or led to an abandoned camp, often with the fire still burning. It was the only thing that told the Nightsister that the Jedi was still living in the swampland near the mountain.

It infuriated her to no end. How this foreigner was able to hide from the best Nightbrother trackers and pathfinders that grew up hunting and surviving on Dathomir. Merrin wasn't sure if she should be angry with the failure of her hunters or begrudgingly impressed with the Jedi. His skills with avoiding the Nightbrothers was clear.

All this focus on hunting the Jedi has driven Merrin to mental exhaustion. It didn't help that her sleep schedule was practically non existent. She hadn't slept in days. Her fear of the nightmares ,that are sure to rear their ugly heads if she were to succumb to sleep, keeping her from resting to any significant amount. 

The only activity she allowed herself that shadowed on real rest was her daily meditation. It was her only real comfort. Sensing the Light of Dathomir calmend her to an addictive degree. Giving her body some semblance of repose, even if her mind wasn't given the same. 

Merrin would spend hours reaching out with her magick to feel the Light, follow it as it traversed the land at the foot of the mountain. The Light had finally made its way to the mountain, but in the weeks since it had yet to ascend the mountain, had yet to make its way to her. The paths the Light picked as it moved around the base of the mountain seemed random, like it was unsure of what it wanted to do. Only knowing it didn't want to stray too far from the mountain, too far from Merrin.

Merrin had half a mind todescend the peak, and look for whatever was producing the light in Dathomir's magick. But these ideas never got very far, only ever taking her out of her home before she changed her mind. Her light would make its way to her in due time, it had to. It had been traveling here for over a year, it's destination was clear. Merrin didn't want to force the encounter, and the Nightsister believed herself patient enough.

But in truth there was another reason as well. Merrin was scared. Scared of what she may find, or worse not find. What if the producer of this light wasn't what she expected? What if there was nothing at all, a trick of the cruel planet? Or the light wanted nothing to do with Merrin, and it's path to her mountain was pure coincidence and nothing more? But what she feared most was if she found and held onto this light, it would be taken from her again like Ilyana was. Such an outcome would shatter the already broken Nightsister. 

[Break]

Cal woke with a start. The wilds of the planet were once again screaming at him. It was a familiar warning that Nightbrothers trackers were close to finding him. He was standing before his eyes had fully opened, his few possessions already set to grab and leave. He kept his small camps ready for when he would need to leave swiftly. Always warned by the planet before he was found.

Cal's was relatively sure that this wildlife alarm was anything but natural. The Nightbrothers seemingly never taking notice of it.

But it wasn't just due to the planet's intervention that Cal survived with hunters closing in from all directions. In his time on Dathomir he had learned the planet well, and coupled with his force enhanced abilities and senses, it wasn't surprising the Nightbrother pathfinders couldn't catch him. Their very own planet was working against them. Why? Cal had no idea, and he wasn't really complaining. It was keeping him alive and that was all he really could hope for.

He was in no state to be fighting anything besides smaller creatures for food. Cal's injuries from his encounter with the robed figure, that wielded a strange form of the force, had yet to heal completely. Being constantly on the move to avoid his hunters wasn't helping either. His broken ribs made every movement and breath agonizing. But it failed to compare to the energy burn on his back. Even now many weeks later it still held a slit burn to it, making it more than a little difficult to sleep or meditate. 

Being sleep deprived, injured, and behind on meditations. Luckily food and water had always been easy enough to come by in the swamp, but he was hardly stable. 

Cal knew he should leave, he doubted the hunters would follow him far from the mountain. But he couldn't bring himself to leave. These Nightbrothers were the only sentient life he had seen in years, and the robed figure the only one who spoke Galactic Common. He doubted he would find any others anytime soon, or ever at all. And the force was still pointing him to the structure on the mountain, and truthfully he still wanted to venture there to know why. The only reason he hadn't attempted to ascend the mountain was because he wanted to be completely healed before entering the eye of the storm.

[Break]

Cal had decided weeks ago that it would do him some good to move further from the mountain. He needed time for his injuries to heal properly, and being constantly on the run from hunters near the mountain kept that from happening. He also needed to get back on his schedule of meditation, as the planet was slowly deteriorating him without it. Eating away at his mind like a parasite to a host. His meditations were his only safeguard and repair from degradation. 

And being away from the mountain had helped in all these regards. While his side still hurt, it was more of a dull pain that the debilitating ache that it had been. After intense meditation his burn no longer held it's unnatural boil and had joined the many other scars that peppered his body. His meditations keep his mind safe from the dark presence of Dathomir.

After healing up to a degree that had Cal confident in his ability to defend himself against beast, Nightbrother, or mysterious force user, he had set out for the mountain once again. Set on finally making it to the structure at the peak. 

Making his way through the swampland, a blood curdling screech shook the land to its very core. Halting his pace, Cal looked across the landscape he found himself in, unable to pinpoint the direction of the noise. Not that he really wanted to find the origin of the terrifying wail. 

Suddenly one of those large, tusked long limbed creatures came barreling through the swampland. Odd, as they tended to stick closer to the mountain and other rocky terrains of the planetary scar. Readying his stance for the creature's inevitable charge, Cal was surprised that no such charge occurred. The beast bounded past the Jedi with incredible speed, ignoring him completely. Again odd. The creature looked almost panicked, but truthfully it was hard to tell based on the creature's small black eyes that failed to convey any emotions. 

Moments later another screech was heard, much closer now. The flora around Cal thrashed wildly from the beating of unnatural winds that swept through. A shadow flew over Cal, seemingly following the previous beast. Looking up Cal was frozen and turned pale. If the screech was blood curdling then the site of its presumed origin was blood chilling. A bat like creature the size of the largest of rancors, with a wingspan wide enough to carry its mass with ease. 

It screeched for a third time, before descending to pluck the fleaing beast, like one plucks a berry from a bush.

[Break]

It was very clear to Merrin that the Nightbrothers were growing more and more restless with the passing months. Almost daily there is at least one argument that doesn't handle itself, and ends up turning into a fight in the arena. The hunters come back from hunts with more injuries than expected, usually due to recklessness and attempts at great feats that are beyond their abilities. All in an attempt to show off, to make themselves stand out among their peers. On her rare trips down to the Nightbrother village, they watched her closely. They still viewed her with fear, but their gazes held much more, and it disgusted the Nightsister to no end.

She knew what was causing the Nightbrothers to behave in such a manner, and it was herself. Under Dathomirian culture Merrin had long since become an adult. Meaning she was able to take a Nightbrother as a mate. A Nightsister was by no means required to take a Nightbrother as a mate upon making adulthood, nor ever really. Many Nightsisters had grown old without copulating with a Nightbrother, preferring to stay abstinent or bed a fellow Nightsister instead. Merrin had always expected to be one of these, but that was before Ilyana had been lost to her forever. She had promised Ilyana, and Ilyana had promised her in return. But that life was gone.

But being the only Nightsister perhaps the Nightbrothers had expected her to take one of their number as a breeder to rebuild the coven. And the very thought was revolting to Merrin. She shuddered at the very thought of having a Nightbrother in her bed, it was sickening. 

Nightbrothers were little more than animals to the Nightsisters. Animals had no place in her bed. They were to be used and tossed away without a second thought. Tools, servants to the Nightsisters. Nothing but cowards that feared and worshiped the Nightsisters like deities. They are stupid and care for nothing but pure strength. They could never make suitable partners.

And Merrin desired a partner, not a seed bank.

But all of this doesn't change the fact the Nightsister needed to put a halt to this unrest in the Nightsister village. 'But how is one expected to accomplish this?'

The question had only just sprung into her mind when an answer was given to her. A familiar screech vibrated the mountain and the swampland below. Gorgara, the other queen of the mountain, had returned from a hunt. The massively oversized female Chirodacryl had been more than a simple pain in Merrin's side since she had been here. Hunting exclusively Nydaks and Nightbrothers. Gorgara was the only one of her kind in the area, having chased off or killed all others. Killing Gorgara would be a legendary feat that no Nightbrother would be capable of. 

A Nightsister usually chose a mate by declaring a 'Selection', and the victor of the three trials in selection would be taken as a breeder and servant by the Nightsister that declared the 'Selection'. But Selection was not the only way a Nightsister could choose a mate, it was just the norm. A Nightsister could come up with any text, challenge, or competition to find herself a suitable Nightbrother.

Merrin would declare to the whole of the Nightbrother village that the one to slay Gorgara would win the honor of being taken by the Nightsister as a mate. The Nightbrothers could not deny a Nightsister's challenge, nor would they risk harming their pride in refusing the challenge. Leaving Merrin to remain mateless, while still keeping the Nightbrothers in check. It was the perfect solution. 

'And who knows, if someone does accomplish the task maybe it would be a sign?'

[Break]

The mountain looked no different than when Cal had first viewed it from under its shadow, except now the peak wasn't shrouded in a red dry mist. But the mass of rock had a different feel to it now. After his fight with the Nightbrothers and robed figure he couldn't look at the mountain the same. It had slightly less mystery to it now, but what little Cal was shown had tried to kill him for no other reason than he was a jedi. The robed force user in particular had shown particular hatred for his kind. 

Despite it all, Cal was going to make another crack at making it to the peak and unveiling the secrets the structure holds. To find out why the force had led him here. 

But Cal knew he wanted to avoid another fight with the same group as before, at all costs. He wasn't sure if he would survive such an encounter again. If he did then what state would he be in after? He chose a less clear path up the mountain instead. Though Cal really hesitated calling it a path at all. It was mostly ledges and cliffs to climb. Without his force enhanced abilities, he was sure climbing the mountain in such a way would be impossible without equipment. There probably wasn't a harder rout he could have taken short of climbing up a sheer cliff.

About halfway to the peak Cal made his way up to a large flat rock structure that allowed for a short respite. Taking a seat he leaned his back against a cliff that he would surely have to climb in a bit. But before his muscles were given any break a distinct cry was heard from above. Looking up, Cal spotted one of those long limbed, tusked predators atop the cliff he was currently resting against. But this individual was clearly different from the rest of his kind. Bigger, light blue instead of the typical faded brown. Covered in countless scars that told of a long life of combat and hardship. 

The beast pounced down from atop the cliff, aiming to crush Cal under its leap. From his sitting position it was a little more difficult to escape. The jedi pushed off the cliff wall and narrowly rolled away before he was flattened. His weapon was in his hands and alight, casting a blue glow across his face, before the creature landed on the ground with an audible 'thud'. 

More than confident in his ability to dispatch such a creature, Cal aimed an upward stroke at one of the creature's arms. The intent was to sever the appendage. Instead the creature's skin was slow to cut, and the blade of plasma was stopped upon reaching the bone of the right arm. Too surprised to swiftly react and make a plan to counter a swing from the left arm, Cal reacted on pure survival instinct. 

Bringing up his free left arm to shield his body as he jumped pack, Cal more heard than felt his hand ripping from it's socket at the wrist rather than felt it. The sound reminded Cal of the times he butchered an animal carcass in preparation for cooking it. The meaty sound of muscle and skin tearing. The bone shattering and foulding rather than cutting cleanly. His exposed blood vessels spraying him and the immediate area with a mist of their contents.

The adrenalin numbed his arm, and his mind focused on the creature ignoring the lost limb. His eyes never betraying him with a glance at the damage. 

He jumped back again, avoiding a follow up swing from the other arm. Swing after swing was thrown at the crippled jedi, the monster putting it's full weight behind every blow. What attacks Cal couldn't pairy, he was forced to retreat. Soon he had been pushed back to the cliff edge, inches from a fall. The creature changed it's pattern, attempting to kill its prey without forcing it over the edge. Bringing both its arms up in preparation to slam down to crush Cal. Cal took the opportunity when he saw it, sprinting past the creature away from the edge. 

The escape, though successful, left him with his back against a cliff wall rather than a cliff edge. Arguably a worse position to be in. 

Cal mustered all the power he had to push the beast back with the force, hopefully over the edge. But exhaustion coupled with his blood loss caused the push to falter. The wall of force hit the creature with little weight behind it, only causing a stagger rather than toppling it over the edge. 'Shit!'

The creature charged the short distance, wanting to crush the jedi against the rock behind him. With the last of his energy Cal ran up the wall, jumping over the charge. His weapon slashed down, cutting at the creatres skull. A fatal blow. He landed behind the creature with less grace than would be expected of a Jedi, the adrenaline began to drain from his muscles and mind.

Sadly the dying creature wasn't finished. Its brain's last demand to the body swung the whole of itself at the jedi. It went brain dead before it hit it's target. But it did hit its target. The force taking the unprepared warrior over the edge, and knocking his weapon from his grasp. 

[Break]

In her meditations Merrin has been keeping track of the Light as it moved across the swampland below. A few weeks ago it had stopped it's random movements around the swampland at the base of the mountain and moved further away. When it had done so Merrin's panic had been immense, fearing it was leaving for good, forever lost to her. But after it moved away from the mountain's shadow it just stayed still, seemingly waiting for something. A small voice in her head had told her the Light was waiting for her, but Merrin knew better to listen to such voices. The planet was well known for speaking in one's ear with ill intent. 

But just a few days ago the Light began to move again. Once again it made its way to the mountain with a much faster pace than when it left. Her heart had leapt when it started making its way up the mountain. But luck was not on the Nightsisters' side, as she was interrupted in her meditation. Sightings of the Jedi near the mountain had called her away.

The jedi hadn't been seen since their encounter long ago. And soon after all trails of him went cold. Merrin half believed he had been eaten by a beast, or done in by the will of the planet itself. But it seems the jedi had returned, and according to the Nightbrother who had sighted him, fully recovered from the injuries she and her hunters had inflicted upon him. 

By the time she had finished listening to the reports and returned to her meditation the light had disappeared from the mountain. Anxiety returned to her as she reached out with her magic to search the mountain. Nowhere to be found. Broadening her search to the swampland below, she finally regained her sense of the Light. It was at the base of the mountain, seemingly fleaing it once again. Slower than last time, but she could feel it's urgency. 

Before it had been a light brighter than the sun in her meditation, able to be sensed like a fire on a moonless night. Now it was dimed, still clear and warm, but smaller. 

Once again the idea of going after the Light herself came to mind. This time with the urgency to claim the Light and keep it safe from all that may seek to harm it. But those ideas had left her moments after they made themselves known. The same fears still halted her pursuit.

Another interruption ripped Merrin out of her meditation as well as her turbulent mental state. Feeling partially numb, all she could do was turn in the direction of her interrupter. Her face betraying nothing of her state of mind. 

The elderly Nightbrother messenger had returned, and seemed to be carrying something bundled in a cloth. 

"For what reason have I been interrupted?" Her voice carried no venom, but that didn't stop the Nightbrother from flinching at her words. The cloth bundle slipped from his shaky grip. 

It hit the stone floor with a mix of a dulled metallic 'clang', and a wet meaty 'thud'. Looking closer, the cloth was a dirty beige with fresh blood stains. Her interest peaked, Merrin got up from her sat position and retrieved the bundle. The Nightbrother paralized at the Nightsisters approach. Unwrapping the cloth, Merrin grimaced at the contents upon first glance. Then she took a closer look and was partially amused.

Looking to the elder Nightbrother, he flinched as if her very gaze stung. "Where did you find these?" 

"A group of hunters found them next to the body of the Alpha Nydak. The creature slain by a strike to the head. The Jedi's doing. The items are no doubt his." 

The Jedi had attempted to climb the mountain then. And in doing so came to blows with the local Nydak Alpha. Killing the monstrosity was impressive to say the least, but it seemed the Jedi had also lost the fight, at least partially. The mutilated left hand was proof of that.

The real prize though was the Jedi weapon she now held. Setting the bundle, still holding the hand, to the side. She held her foe's weapon in her right hand. Grazing her fingers across the metal, it surprised her how clean it was. The Jedi seemed to have respect for his weapon at the very least. 

The sudden urge to destroy the weapon came over her. Many of her sisters had been cut down by such a weapon. Before the impulse could move her to action, another idea came to mind. A trophy, that's what this weapon is. The Jedi had been beaten by Dathomir, and this weapon in her hands was in honor to his loss.

Fashioning the device to herself, her attention fell to the motionless Nightbrother. He hadn't moved since answering her, and Merrin loathed any time she spent in the company of a Nightbrother, no matter how docile. "You may go."

With a blink, the Nightbrother was out the door without a word. 

Turning back to her meditation spot, the Nightsister was reminded of her Light and what had happened to it. The satisfaction that had come with the news of what had happened to the jedi had quickly faded. Replaced with the uncertainty at the condition of the Light of Dathomir. 

She hated this feeling. It made her aware that she cared more for her own selfish desires than the revenge for her sisters. This awareness was not something she wanted. She could practically hear her sisters and mother yelling at her for her betrayal because that is exactly what she was doing. Focusing on her own desires over that of the dead coven. Betraying them.

[Break]

Cal's second flight from the mountain was mostly a blur of pain, regret, and a need/desire to survive. He was crippled, bleeding out, weaponless, and his fall had knocked all the fight out of the young jedi. When he had finally fled far enough to feel some semblance of security, his first task was finding some way to clean his bleeding arm, that was now missing everything above the wrist. Having no medical supplies, and nothing to cut with or disinfect a wound, Cal became desperate. 

Building a harsh fire, Cal shoved his wounded hand into the flames. If it wasn't for his exhaustion, he surely would have managed more than the dry whimper of pain that escaped him. He blacked out shortly after retracting his hand. 

Waking with the fire just as massive as before, Cal took a view of his scorched appendage. The end a burnt nub that was hopefully safe from infection and more blood loss, but with his luck he was doubtful.

As the days progressed and as his body took it time to heal, his mind slowly left it's haze of survival instincts. His only hand grazed it's fingers across the strip of leather that acted as his belt. Cal had lost his weapon, Master Tapal's lightsaber. His last material connection to his old life, a happier life, long lost to him. His only true possession, that was entrusted to him by his dying master. A master that he could no longer fully remember, his face blurred in his memories. 

There was a sickening dark humor to the idea of mourning the loss of a tool over the loss of a piece of your own body. But to Cal the lightsaber had slowly become a part of him. His connection to Master Tapal and his training, a reminder that he was still a Jedi. It was his confidence, it's blue light washing him with a calmness and comfort he couldn't describe.

And now it had been lost, likely forever.

Notes:Next Chapter: Chapter 5-Year 4-Temple

A while back I read a fanfic where Cal had a robotic prosthetic hand under his welding glove he wears throughout Fallen Order (I think the Fanfic was 'Jedi: Fallen Knight' by aslanbrooke. Its really good, go give it a read). So that gave me the idea to cut off our favorite red headed Jedi Padawan's hand. So now Cal is without his left hand with no prosthetic is sight. You can thank me later. :)

Chapter 5: Year 4-TempleNotes:(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter TextSurviving without his weapon was proving just as hard as Cal had suspected. Hunting big game was out of the question. He had almost entirely adopted a diet of plant roots and fish, as anything else he couldn't hunt reliably or safely. He was less defending himself from Dathomirian creatures and residence, and more running at the first sign of trouble. His only real defence was his force abilities, which he mostly used to get away rather than defend or fight off any assailants.

But it was also the small things that became difficult. Gathering wood was more scavenging for wood. Dathomirian trees had few branches, and they never shed them. Cal would usually cut them off with his master's lightsaber, but now he was pushed to ripping the smallest branches off, a difficult feat considering the rock hard wood. Starting campfires also became a process that was more than just 'poke it with the lightsaber until the wood lights up'. Cal knew how to start fires, he had been taught in basic survival training, but it doesn't mean he was any good at it. It would often take him an hour to get a fire large enough to cook the fish and roots. He was slowly becoming better at it, but it was hardly enjoyable. 

Without a left hand, all these problems became amplified. He couldn't carry as much food, nor dig up plant roots as fast. Running was surprisingly harder without another arm to balance him out, but it was something he quickly adapted to. Climbing on the other hand had gone from a chore to an obstacle. He could still climb most places, but he had to be smarter about his ascents and descents, and it took almost double the time it would have before losing his left hand.

To try and make up for the weaponless problem, Cal had tried to adopt Nightbrother weaponry. Their heavy maces were too large and unwieldy for a teen with only one hand. Needless to say their plasma bows were also off the table, Cal didn't even make an attempt at them.

What was worse was the condition of what was left of his arm. Cal had only lost the hand at the wrist, but the whole of the arm below the elbow was slowly going black and necrotic. After burning the arm to stop the bleeding and in an attempt to ward off infection, he thought the constant throbbing pain was from the burn, and his body getting used to missing a piece of itself. Maybe at first it was, but it soon became clear that his arm was in much a worse shape than he thought. Infection had set in, and Cal wasn't sure what he could to halt the damage. He could use his meditations to keep the infection in his lower arm, but that was the extent. 

His meditations had also gotten harder due to his loss of the lightsaber. Ever since the encounter with the beast that took his hand, and lost him his only real reminder of his old life, meditations had become harmful. Cal's mind was filled with visions of Master Tapal yelling at him for all his weaknesses and failures. Attacking every fault and failure Cal could see within himself. His cowardice, his lack of skill in all Jedi teachings, and even his personal appearance. It was mostly because of this that Cal knew these visions to be nothing more than his mind attacking itself. Cal wouldn't lie to himself and say these visions didn't affect him, but knowing they were thoughts from himself and not words from his dead master meant the visions were little more than inconveniences in meditations. 

Meditating was still necessary for his survival. To keep his force abilities, his only real defence now, honed. To keep his infected arm stable, and to keep the dark presence of the planet out of his mind. So Cal tolerated the harmful visions and their attacks on his self worth. It was also the only way he could fall asleep with the constant pain of his dying arm. Cal could ward off the feeling long enough for a night of sleep.

As the Jedi made his way across the swampland, for roots to scavenge, Cal heard the distinct clicking of Dathomirian spiders. Deciding that it would be preferable to avoid them, Cal sprinted in the exact opposite direction of the spider clicking.

Running a considerable distance Cal soon slowed to a halt, finding himself in an unrecognizable part of the swamp. A small clearing that was more or less unremarkable, besides the singular tree that made home atop the hill that covered the majority of the clearing. Making his way to the tree, Cal circled it, something catching his eye. Sticking out of the black bark of the tree at chest height was a short bladed sword. The tree's bark had started growing around the blade, a sign that the weapon had been there for a considerably long time. Despite this the weapon was undamaged by time, still holding it's metallic shine. The weapon was beautiful, but lacked any flashy qualities. A single edged sword that curved near the point of the weapon. The blade was thin nearer the grip, and thicker near the end for more cutting power. The handle was wrapped in a fine red leather the same color of the tunic of the female Dathomirian that attacked him all those months ago. The blade's crossguard covered a portion of the cutting edge with an angle designed for blades to glance off rather than get blocked by the guard.

Cal hesitated in grabbing the weapon, it clearly held an echo of the past. However curiosity soon over took caution and Cal took hold of the weapons grip. 

The echo was ancient, far older than any echo he had experienced before. He was thrust into the vision of a female Dathomirian, now known to him as Nightsisters, 'Guess that makes sense, considering the males are called "Nightbrothers"'. The Nightsister was injured, poisoned. Her vision filled with hallucinations as she slowly succumbed to the deadly toxin. With her last action she threw her blade into the tree, having seen an illusion of an enemy unknown to Cal. The echo ended after the blade embedded itself into the tree, and the Nightsister collapsed. 

Looking to the spot of the Nightsisters resting place, it was clear that no body was there. Something must have dragged her away when she died all those years ago. 

His attention fell back to the blade, grasping it again and taking it from its place in the tree. The blade came free much easier than he had thought it would. The portion of the blade that had been inside the tree was slightly discolored a shade or two darker. It was heavier than a lightsaber, but was still many times lighter than the Nightbrother's heavy maces. Testing the blade on one of the tree's few branches, the limb was cut like paper against a vibro-blade. The weapon was masterfully sharp. Cal had heard of this before, mono-molecular edge. Able to cut better than a Vibro-blade. Only lightsabers could outmatch a weapon with such a sharpened and reinforced edge in pure cutting ability. 

It was no lightsaber, but this Nightsister blade was a close second. 

[Break]

Adopting his fighting style to a new weapon took more time than Cal had expected. Thinking the weapon would be used in a similar capacity to a lightsaber, he had attempted to use it like one. He was proven wrong within seconds of testing out the weapon on a Dathomirian spider. He still killed it with little issue, but he quickly found many changes he would have to adapt to. First the weapon's blade was shorter than the average lightsaber. The weapon also had more weight behind it, and relied on its weight more for cutting power. But what threw Cal off most was that the weapon had only one cutting edge, compared to a lightsaber with every edge being deadly. But Cal had always had affinity with lightsaber combat, that was only honed to a sharp edge by his time on Dathomir. It wasn't long until Cal was as adept at using this new weapon as he had been with a lightsaber. 

This had given the Jedi a much needed confidence boost. Thinking it was about time Cal finally finished his long standing goal, Cal for the third time set his course for the mountain that cast its shadow over the swampland. He would make it to the temple at the peak, and finally know why he had been pointed here by the force. Even now, almost two years since he had first seen the mountain, and probably three years since he was stranded on this strange planet, the force was still directing Cal to the structure. It was his only clear goal outside of survival, and frankly it was the only thing that kept the young Jedi together. He hated to admit it, but he had long given up on rescue. This was all he had, and he needed to hold onto it. 

So here Cal was, venturing up the mountain once again, not as whole as last time, but still alive.

He decided on taking the same difficult path as before, hoping that the creature that took his arm last time had no family or friends. With one less hand it took much longer to ascend the cliffs, but it wasn't long until Cal found himself at the cliff edge where he had lost his master's lightsaber, and his left hand.

He only took a couple minutes to rest, and search in vain for the lost weapon. It had been months since he lost the weapon, there was little chance the weapon would ever be found. 

After continuing his journey, Cal further slowed his pace. Beyond the cliff edge was all new territory to him. He couldn't risk being seen by a Nightbrother patrol. If he was, it was doubtful Cal would escape the attention of the resident Nightsister. If she got involved he would be in more than a little trouble.

[Break]

Merrin had long perfected her daily routine. Having had little changes to daily life over her time on the mountain after finishing the burial of all her sisters. Waking shortly before sunrise, if she even allowed herself to sleep the night before. Nightmares always plaguing every moment of her rest. She would swiftly eat a light meal, usually Veeka meat she hunted herself, she would bathe in the mountain's hot springs near the peak. The hot springs were maintained through magick, and forbidden to the Nightbrothers. 

Then the Nightsister would meditate until midday, or until interrupted by Nightbrother messages. Usually reports of problems in need of sorting out. No big problems had arisen since Merrin's declaration to take whomever could slay Gorgara, as a mate. The village had not been pleased, but couldn't really do anything, nor did they openly complain. The declaration was seen as a challenge, and no Nightbrother would refuse a challenge. Some of the younger Nightbrothers had even attempted to slay the mighty Gorgara, hoping to be the one to bed her. While most had survived their attempts, very few came out unscathed, and none had yet to even harm the beast. So the Nightsister remained unmated, just as she had wished.

The Jedi hadn't been seen in nearly a year, and the only sign that he was still around was his severed hand, now mummified, and weapon found near the dead body of the local Alpha Nydak that he had no doubt killed. Despite this she kept up the Nightbrother patrols to hunt the Jedi. Half out of a sense of keeping to her revenge, and just to keep the Nightbrothers busy.

Today she had just returned from her times at the springs when the elderly messenger had shown himself. Merrin hadn't even gotten time for meditation. He brought news of one of her patrols getting attacked by Gorgara. None had died in their escape, but many were injured to the extent of needing Nightsister healing. 'Seems like meditation must be delayed for another time.'

[Break]

Cal had soon found himself at the peak with little issue, now standing before the massive temple-like structure. The goal that had driven him to climb this mountain no less than three times. The first he had barely gotten a few meters before being turned back by the Nightsister and her hunters. The second he had made it halfway up before losing his master's lightsaber along with his left hand. 

But you know what they say, "third times the charm."

Standing before the structure now, Cal couldn't help but feel a bit intimidated by it. Reaching up to scrape the sky with its forked peak. Statues of some unknown alien race. A menacing presence that overwhelmed the Jedi. 

Cal was honestly scared. Scared of what he would find. Scared of what he wouldn't find. But mostly scared of the mystery of why he was sent here. What purpose is intended for him inside this ancient place. If it was like anything like the rest of the planet it probably wouldn't be good. But this was all Cal had, so he took his first few steps into the structure. 

He took little note of the inside of the building, his eyes immediately being drawn to a stone tablet carved into the far wall. He couldn't take his eyes off of it. Something was telling him this tablet held his answer. The tablet was two to three times Cal's own height, with writing carved into it in a language Cal didn't recognize, if it really was a language at all. Also carved into it, and taking center stage was a large circular pattern that vaguely reminded Cal of the galaxy. 

His body acted before his mind could. Reaching out to brush his hand across the cravings. Cal was filled with a sensation that was an uncomfortable mix of sensing an echo and meditating. The echo-like feeling was filled with a screaming emotional pain and anger. It also spoke to Cal of a promise. What was being promised, Cal could only guess and fear. Whatever was being promised, Cal knew he wanted no part in it. 

As he ripped his hand away from the stone, it retaliated with a force vision. He found himself back in time, as his younger self. Aboard the Albedo Brave, heading off to training once again. Passing by clone troopers going about their duties. Most giving the young apprentice words of encouragement, knowing he was heading for the training room. One even asked if he was up for another round in the battle simulator after his training. He even caught a conversation of two clones discussing their station in the Dathomir star system. Mostly questioning the post, and wondering what was so important that the whole of the 13th battalion had been posted here for the last three months. When the two troopers noticed Cal, they lightheartedly reminded him of his training session that he was quickly growing late to. Once he had finally made it to training, Master Tapal gave him the task of making up to the observation deck of the training room. Using his Jedi training, Cal jumped, wall ran, and climbed to his destination. Even at one point having to fend of blaster fire from the commander. But he made it, and Master Tapal started informing him of news of new orders from the Republic. The 13th Battalion would make its way to Bracca to help Jedi Master Malicos in securing the planet. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed the commander getting a holomessage, probably details on their orders. His attention was drawn back to his master as the large lasat stumbled from, what seemed to be, a headache. The commander made his way to Cal's view as the clone raised his weapon to the Jedi master's head. Cal went to scream a warning to his master, but it proved unneeded as the commander was cut down in a flash of blue. It quickly became clear that something was going on, they had been betrayed. Cal made his way to the escape pods, as Master Tapal made his way to the ship core to compromise the star destroyer. On his way, Cal lost his weapon down a shaft. It wasn't long until he was at the escape pods, his master not far behind him. Before they could finish prepping a pod, they were set upon by more clone troopers. Master Tapal gave them a fight worthy of his rank of master, but the numbers were too great. It wasn't long until he was fatally injured and they escaped the explosion of the ship. The lasat's last words relieved, "This … war is not over, my Padawan. Hold the line. Wait for the Jedi Council's signal. Remember… Trust only… In the Force."

The words rang through Cal many times before he once again found himself back in his current body, but the vision had not ended at reliving the last day of his old life. 

He found himself in the void of his own mind. A place he was familiar with, as he was often brought here by his meditations. But now it also held the large stone tablet. It gave off a bluish glow, from its place near the end of the void. 

Stepping out of a dark cloud was his dead master, alive within the vision. "Padawan. It is time for instruction."

Lighting his dual bladed lightsaber, the lasat made for a defensive stance. Cal found he held his own lightsaber, or more accurately his master's lightsaber that he had lost. 

Lighting his own weapon, Cal swung at his master. Master Tapal blocked the blow effortlessly. "Still incompetent!" his master spat at him. 

Cal kept up his attack, never breaking the Jedi master's defence. "Your will is weak. You lack discipline." 

With a disapproving voice the master spoke, "You will always be weak." before he lowered and disarmed his weapon. Cal, with a childish yell, trusts his blade into his opponent. 

"Yes. My blood is on your hands, apprentice." The lasat violently grabbed the offending weapon. "You are a failure. A weakling." Cal tried to pry the weapon from the grip, but was too weak, and did little. "A traitor." The lightsaber began to fade away as the lasat spoke further. "You are no Jedi!" 

"No!" With a desperate scream, the vision ended. Cal soon found himself kneeling, turned away from the tablet. Looking down at his hand. Empty, his fist balled with his nails cutting into his skin, knuckles white from his tight grip. 

[Break]

It had taken Merrin longer to treat the injured Nightbrother hunters that had been attacked by Gorgara. Their wounds had been severe. One of the Nightbrothers had even succumbed to his injuries before the Nightsister had arrived. The other three that survived had all been crippled, losing five limbs between the three of them.

A crippled Nightbrother, no matter how minor the damage, is seen as less than a person, an animal. The humor was not lost on Merrin, as she already viewed the Nightbrothers as animals. Usually such members of the village would be forced into the most unsavory of tasks. Empting the lavatories, tanning animal hide, or taking care of the young Nightbrothers. When a Nightsister gave birth to a male, the child would be taken to the Nightbrother village to be raised, effectively abandoned by the mother. Nightsisters had little need to be raising Nightbrothers, and Nightbrothers viewed child rearing as weak, and only the lowest members of the community would be tasked with child care. Of course no child Nightbrothers would be raised anytime, if ever again if Merrin had any say in it. In fact she happened to be the only one who had any say in it.

As she made her way back to her home near the peak she decided to make a detour. She would go visit Ilyana at her cliff. She would usually do so after her meditation, but seeing as she had missed her meditation today it only seemed appropriate to visit the cliff.

Her path to the cliff took the Nightsister by the ancient temple at the mountain's peak. The structure predated the Nightsisters by a considerable degree, built by an alien race. Merrin only had a vague idea of what the ancient architects looked like, due to the stone statues that filled the inside of the temple. The temple was partially the reason the mountain was used as a burial site for the Nightsisters. The temple gave off strong magick forces that one could only normally find deep within the planet's crust. Merrin was unsure if the temple was built here because of the strong magick, or if there was strong magick because of the temple. But it mattered little to the Nightsister. 

She had only ventured into the dark place a few times. Usually out of a mix of curiosity and boredom. It never occupied more than a few hours of her time, and she never found anything of particular interest besides a few statues that looked like people who had been turned to stone, screaming with horror. Or at least Merrin thinks it was horror, it was hard to tell with the statues of an alien race she had never seen before. 

The structure had always intimidated her, like it watched her every move as she traversed it's insides, so after her third bout of curiosity, she had ceased her ventures inside. 

As she passed the structure a defiant and desperate scream rang out of the doorway into the temple. The voice was too far away for Merrin to discern the word that had been vocalized. Hesitating for only a moment, Merrin ran to the temple entrance, peering inside. Less than a hundred feet from her neeled the Jedi. Looking down at his hand, paralyzed by some distant horror within his mind. His skin was ghostly pale, the blood drained from the skin's surface. As she ran her eyes across the kneeling enemy that had yet to notice her presence, she took note of many details she had ignored from their last encounter over a year ago. He had hair. Nightbrothers couldn't grow hair leading Merrin to associate hair with women, but this Jedi was clearly male considering his bare chest was clearly closer in resemblance to the Nightbrothers. Furthermore his hair was a rich orange red, unlike the deeper reds found all across the planet. Nightsisters hair was only ever black, gray, or white, nothing ever coming close to this males hair. His left arm looked dead from the elbow down, hanging uselessly at his side. He wore treated leather pants that were clearly of Nightbrother make. On his belt hung a Nightsister's duskblade. A rare weapon coveted by martial Nightsisters, and used to aid in many rituals. Seeing the weapon in his possession brought fury to the forefront of Merrin's mind, overtaking her curiosity for a moment. How had he come to possess it? No doubt stealing the weapon from its resting place, like the thief all Jedi are. He most likely took it to replace his old weapon. A weapon that now hangs from the Nightsister's belt, as a trophy. 

Her anger drove her to take a step into the temple. She must have made a sound, as the red headed Jedi's gaze shot up in panic and fear, tears streaming down his cheeks. His eyes were green, another oddity. Nightbrother eyes were almost exclusively a dull yellow. Nightsisters had a little more variety in eye color. Merrin herself had brown eyes, but shades of yellow, gray, red, and even the rare blue could be found. Green was not a rare color on Dathomir, but it was mostly associated with Bane Back Spider acid, the algae that grew in the lower swampland, disease ridden Nydaks and Burra Fish. Most examples are off putting, and even her own Magick took on a sickly green tinge that the Nightsister had never been fond of. But the green eyes that stare back at her now are anything but off putting. Even with his eyes filled with fear and despair, Merrin would still describe his green as inviting, warm, comfortable. It made her movements falter under his fearful gaze.

Even his fear was different than that of a Nightbrother. Merrin had seen many looks of fear throughout her life, mostly from wild beasts and the Nightbrothers. Beasts fear was purely primal, only fearing death and pain on instinct, having no way of contemplating the actual idea of death or consequences of that fate. Nightbrother fear was emotionless in a sense, trained from birth to fear Nightsisters. They only cower before Merrin because it is all they know. The young man's terror had nothing primal about it. He wasn't afraid of death at this moment. No, what ever had horrored him was something deeper than basic self preservation. It had raw emotion that a Nightbrother wound/could never understand. Merrin had seen this only once before when Ilyana had hid her away during that fateful night a lifetime ago. 'What had filled this warrior with so much dread?'

It took a few seconds of staring at the Nightsister for his vision to focus. As soon as he took in the situation he found himself, the Jedi's look of fear was replaced with that of confusion. "Hello… What are you doing here?" His words almost comically casual, laced with confusion.

The words shook the Nightsister out of her stupor. "What are you doing here!?" She threw his question back at him with bite.

She didn't give the kneeling man anytime to respond. "Why do you possess a Nightsister's Duskblade!? You stole it! Taken it from its resting place!"

She raised her hands, Green ichor swarling into her palms. Harling them at the Jedi, who leaped out of the way. "N-no, I-I don't want to fight you!"

"You lie!"

Another volley of burning ichor was thrown at the nimble Jedi. "Please!"

When it was clear the Nightsister would only respond with more attacks, Cal raised his hands. Taking the force he froze the Nightsister in stasis. 

Merrin was confused and angered. In the middle of throwing more green projectiles at her enemy he had raised his hand and the world around the Nightsister seemed to speed up. Or more accurately she slowed. The jedi had used his Jedi magicks to paralyze her movements to a near standstill. He charged at her. Merrin's anger was soon overtaken by panic. In her slowed state she couldn't escape, nor defend herself from his inevitable attack. She did the only thing she could do, she closed her eyes. She wouldn't let her fear show on her face, she wouldn't give him the satisfaction of seeing her despair. Her last moments would show this Jedi the bravery of the Nightsisters his people had ended. The only give away of her state of mind was a single tear that escaped to slide down her cheek. 

As she prepared herself to be cut down images rushed the young Nightsister's mind. Images of her life before, of her sisters, her mother, Ilyana. She would soon join them in death, but not in the after life. There wouldn't be anyone to perform her burial rights. She would be alone in death, as she was in life. 

Then she felt a charging mass rush by her, less than a hair away. For a few moments the Nightsister believed the deed had been done. That death had come to her like the winds of the mountain. Then she felt her frantic heartbeat, and the pain in her lungs as she held in what she thought was her last breath. Opening her eyes it took seconds to realize what had happened. The Jedi had run past her, sparing her. The torrent of emotions coupled with her near death experience drove the Nightsister to collapse to her knees in exhaustion.

She became light headed from the mass of sensations that attacked her mind. Fear for having almost died. Confusion for why she had not been killed by her enemy. Relief for a chance to live another day. But soon two feelings eclipsed all others as she brought her mind back together. Hatred and anger. Hatred for the enemy that had shamed her for sparing her. Anger for being spared the blade when her sisters hadn't been years ago. But most of all anger for herself. She had been too weak to enact her sister's revenge when she had been given her best chance of doing so. The spirits had delivered her quarry to her after hunting him for over a year and she failed.

Notes:Next Chapter: Chapter 6-Year 5, Part 1-Gorgara

This chapter was a bit smaller than the past few, but next weeks chapter will make up for it, I assure you. 

Also the idea behind the Duskblade came from the Fantasy Flight Star Wars Tabletop RPG. In one of the expansion books it adds the Dathomirian race, a few Dathomirian weapons, and the Nightsister as a playable force using class. One of the weapons added was the Duskblade, used by Nightsisters. The mono-molecular edge is a weapon mod that can be added to bladed weapons in the game to increase the chance and damage of critical hits or wounds. Just wanted you too know the origians of a Duskblade and that I did not make it up randomly. Also I love Fantasy Flight Star Wars. I always had the idea to write a story on my RPG groups campaign. 

Next chapter will be up next Saturday. It will be my favorite chapter yet.