She Pick Her Own Way Down That Path

[Wyl Staedtler]

He'd never been much of a sleeper. Wyl had come screaming into the universe late one night and proceeded to spend the first year of his existence awake. When he'd been real little he'd mostly cried, because there wasn't much else he could do, but as he got older (and smarter) he'd figured out how to escape the confines of his crib. He'd wander to the picture window in the apartment and watch the soft lights of the city blink and flash. Mum had always...

His mind came to a spluttering halt and Wyl sighed. Try as he might, those thoughts never seemed to finish themselves, just trailed away into the same mental potholes.

Anyway, the point was, habits were hard things to change. Despite the late hour, Wyl was wide awake. Part of it was that they were in Cloud City. Wyl had always been a city boy. On Vortex, in the absence of air conditioning or traffic, the planet's silence had roared in his ears and made him feel flighty, uncomfortable. It was nice to be back in a place where there was always a low hum of activity in the background. It was safe.

The boy was not so absorbed in scanning the city through the window that he didn't feel the tell-tale shift in the Force, alerting him that he wasn't alone. A smile crept across his young face; Daria moved silently, but he was getting better and better at sensing his surroundings.

"Hi." Wyl, perched on the window sill, twisted his head to offer a shy grin to the Jedi. The boy couldn't help but be aware of the shift in his Master's demeanor, the subtle change that had been present ever since her return. There was just something slightly off. Wyl wasn't sure what to make of it. He gestured to a point outside. "Look - that's a Orestian Cruiser. It's a classic. You almost never see 'em nowadays 'cause they're hard to keep runnin' on account of the parts bein' so hard to replace."

[Daria Nytherciria]

Daria didn't see the cruiser, or the night lights of the city. They were things she would never see, and yet she was content to live without them, perceiving only the living inhabitants of the world. Perched as he was in the window , Wyl Staedtler lit up the room with his presence. Daria saw him as an almost ghostly silhouette; luminous, yet not quite so bright as the likes of Serena and Lianna.

Nearing the window, the Jedi Knight stood just away from the frame and smiled a meager smile.

“Hello, Wyl. It's good to see you.”

[Wyl Staedtler]

"Yeah. You too." Wyl ducked his head, one knee drawn up and an arm slung over the top. He picked absorbedly at a scab on his shin. When he had worked the edge of it loose so that it could flap back and forth, the boy returned his attention to the window, face pressed close enough that his breath fogged the glass.

The Cruiser's rear lights lit up, soft amber that pulsed as the engine revved. Wyl let out a low breath as it peeled away from the edge of the pedwalk, disappearing down an off-ramp that led to the lower levels. Those things could really soar - and they turned on a dime. You could do anything in one of those, probably.

He waited a moment more, half hoping that the ship would reappear, before turning again to face Daria. He swung his legs from their perch and let them dangle, heels bumping softly against the wall. "I'm glad you're back. You've been gone forever."

Wyl paused, and then leaned down to pick at his scab again. "...Is everything okay?"

[Daria Nytherciria]

“Not exactly.”

She thought of Doldur (http://sw-fans.net/forum/showthread.php?t=17752) and Atzerri (http://sw-fans.net/forum/showthread.php?t=18443). 'Okay' was not a word the Jedi Knight would have used to describe either venture. The ebb and flow of fortune that marked the Jedi, as a whole, seemed to be at a particularly low tide.

“We're trying to make it better, though. I suppose that's why I've been away...”

It felt as if her words were coming out hollow and stilted, as if she had forgotten how to speak to Wyl – to speak to anyone in fact, and really mean what she was saying.

“What have you been doing with your time, here?”

[Wyl Staedtler]

Wyl shrugged and squinted at Daria, rolling her words around in his mind like a connoisseur. They were honest and to the point, something that Wyl valued about Daria. She was always straight up even if she didn't say a lot. Still; the boy was used to his master's reticent nature (and more than made up for it with his own exuberant chatter), but this was different - stiff in a way he couldn't quite pinpoint.

"Master Serena's been helpin' me work on my control - she says I'm getting better, but I hafta learn to not get distracted by stuff." He said. "And we've been to the markets too."

He wondered if he ought to slip down from the window ledge. But then what would he do? Just stand there, shuffling about? Wyl cleared his throat. "Can I, um... is there anything I can do to help? Fix things, I mean."

[Daria Nytherciria]

“I'm not sure if there's anything any of us can do.”

The words came before Daria realized she was speaking and yet even as she heard the pessimism dripping from them, she did not wish them away. The galaxy at large was in a troubling state, with the power of the Empire seemingly growing exponentially.

Though they had reunited some of the survivors of the Jedi Purge, their numbers were few, and it seemed each of them had their own cross to bear, their own personal quest or burden which would ensure they were always walking just out of step with one another. The Force held them together, but it was only by a thin thread, one liable to snap given the right amount of pressure.

“We have to... put our faith in the Force – and stay focused on our training.”

Especially you, Wyl, she thought. At the rate they were going, she would be dead and gone before any true progress was made. The future almost certainly lay in the hands of the next generation and so it fell to Daria to prepare her apprentice for the heavy burden he had to shoulder.

[Wyl Staedtler]

For a moment it seemed like he hadn't heard her. Wyl stared at a spot on the carpet. His heels thumped softly against the wall, the beat punctuated by muted traffic noises and the rattle of the space heater.

"There's always something to do." He said suddenly. It was an innocently buoyant statement but there was a hard sheen to it - one that seemed almost misplaced in the tender youth of it's speaker's voice. Wyl shrugged. "Even if it doesn't make much difference, it's better than doing nothin'."

Nothing. Like hiding out and running away, he thought.

He kicked off from the windowsill. A grimly determined expression flickered across his face so quickly that a blink could have hidden it. Deep blue eyes studied Daria.

He'd been intimidated by her, once, when they'd first been thrust together like a pair of mismatched socks that had no other options. She had seemed so quiet and impassable; for weeks the boy had been frugal with his conversation, unsure of how to approach the Jedi.

That had been a long time ago. He'd been very young then. Wyl knew now that understanding his master was sometimes like putting together a puzzle - it took time to see the picture that the pieces made.

"You look tired." Wyl stepped forward and placed a small hand on Daria's arm. "D'you want some tea? Rhianna took me to an... apocrafary? We got all these dried leaves and junk. She showed me how to mix it together - it's sort of like being a mad scientist."

[Daria Nytherciria]

...better than doing nothing. Was action always the right path? It could be so easily to sit back and allow time and life to flow around you, never reaching out to touch and change the destination of the current. She thought about contesting Wyl, about trying to explain that she was not apathetic to the world, simply... trying to maintain the equilibrium dictated by the Force. N words would come to her, however. She felt too tired to argue.

Daria smiled, an almost melancholy smile.

“Some tea would be wonderful.”

[Wyl Staedtler]

Wyl nodded and turned, going into the little nook that qualified as a 'full kitchen' according to the motel brochure. There was a compact silver cylinder on one side of the narrow counter; he twisted the top off and filled it with water from the faucet before replacing the lid and flicking a little switch at the base.

From the cupboard by his knees, Wyl fished out a neatly-tied parcel. It was done up with twisted cord, something he found to be absurdly old fashioned. His small, nimble fingers worked at the knots until they came loose. Inside lay several smaller packets. They were labeled in tiny, fluttering script.

Wyl set one chipped cup down on the counter. With his tongue poking out from between his lips in concentration, the boy began to painstakingly measure out the various herbs into a netted strainer that rested on the lip of the mug. 'Leaves and junk' had been a fairly accurate description - it appeared for all the world like he had stuck his hand into a potted plant and was preparing to boil peat.

Wyl's hand trembled slightly in an effort not to spill anything. He spooned a little ashwagandha root into the strainer (not too much, Rhianna had said, otherwise it would be bitter) and then added a heap of chamomile and skullcap - his favourite, because of the dastardly interesting name.

When the water boiled, he carefully poured it into the mug. With a towel wrapped around the hot ceramic, Wyl ferried the tea with both hands to the flimsy table adjacent the kitchen.

"It's hot." He warned, a little flicker of pride shining from his eyes. "And it's gotta sit for a while."

[Daria Nytherciria]

Easing herself down into a chair, Daria took in the aroma of the tea, the scent of it bringing a growing smile to her lips. It reminded her of sometime, somewhere in the past, though she couldn't place exactly when. Still, the warmth it radiated it brought to mind happier, safer times. Gingerly, she cupped her palms to the still-wrapped mug and felt the heat within begin to spread throughout her body. Balmy steam rose to meet her chin and cheeks.

“What else have you and Rhianna been buying, then? Have the two of you made any more curious discoveries?”

[Wyl Staedtler]

"There's a sweet shop that sells everything you can imagine." Wyl's eyes glittered gleefully. "We got a bag of treats and I ate so many that Morgan said I was going to go into a coma which is dumb, 'cause a coma's a little tick in a story that tells you to slow down for a second and how can you go into one of those?"

Wyl screwed up his face and shook his head. He still didn't get it.

A comfortable silence fell between them. The boy observed Daria, noting with a small swell of pride that she seemed to be enjoying her tea. That was good. Tea was supposed to make people relax and talk. At least, it always did in old holos. Whenever something troubling happened, someone made tea and problems were solved.

Wyl leaned forward in his chair. He bit his lip. This really wasn't that sort of problem.

"Daria?" Perilously blue eyes looked at the Jedi uncertainly. "Are you... you're not gonna leave again or anything, are you?"

[Daria Nytherciria]

“I don't know,” she answered, quickly, and then after a moments thought. “Perhaps.”

It seemed inevitable. Though Cloud City had been a reliable safe-house so far, it would not last. They would have to leave, just as they had fled from Vortex, abandoning months of hard work for fear of being discovered. Gazing down into her cup, Daria frowned. There were no answers to be found amongst the tea-leaves. She felt Wyl's upon her, looking to her... She was his Master, after all – at least in name. The past few months had seen the Jedi Knight become an increasingly absent teacher, but it felt like hypocrisy to try and pass on the lessons of the Jedi to another when she could not live up to her own master's teachings and doubted the very Code around which her life had previously revolved.

“Every day brings a new challenge, a new hurdle to overcome... there are.. things I have to face, problems I wouldn't want to needlessly entangle you in.”

[Wyl Staedtler]

Needlessly entangle? That sounded like a polite way of saying, 'you're too young' or 'mind your own beeswax'. Wyl's expression pinched into a frown. Daria was like a puzzle - hard to understand unless you had all the pieces. He'd only just managed to put together the edges of his Master and it was slow work.

"You can't always figure everything out on your own." Wyl countered, tone bordering on censure. After all, wasn't that one of the points of traveling in a group? To share burdens? It certainly wasn't a matter of safety; they were far more vulnerable in clusters than they were individually, even he knew that.

Yet Daria still had a tendency to default to isolation and the boy was beginning to take it personally.

"You're scared." Wyl squinted and mustered up his courage. "And you're tryin' to pretend you're not but you feel different. Just 'cause I'm young doesn't mean I don't notice stuff."

[Daria Nytherciria]

“I know,” she sighed. Wyl had perception and understanding beyond his years, no doubt a by-product of having been plunged into the harsh realities of life from an early age. It was easy to forget how much he had endured when he appeared so incurably cheerful all the time.

The question was, of course, whether or not she thought he could understand and accept what she was going through. Removing her hands from the tea cup, Daria absently brushed her thumb back and forth across the scar within her palm.

“...Tell me what know about the Dark Side, Wyl.”