The Raven And The Rose [complete]

[imported_Taja Loraan]

she spread herself wide open to let the insects in
she leaves a trail of honey to show me where she's been
she has the blood of reptile just underneath her skin
seeds from a thousand others drip down from within

oh my beautiful liar
oh my precious whore
my disease my infection
I am so impure

devils speak of the ways in which she'll manifest
angels bleed from the tainted touch of my caress
need to contaminate to alleviate this loneliness
I now know the depths I reach are limitless

oh my beautiful liar
oh my precious whore
my disease my infection
I am so impure

***

A forest. She was in a forest; a forest atypical in its absence of foliage, of underbrush, flowers, birds... anything to suggest even the slightest trace of life. Creeping black vines twisted and intertwined amidst the shriveled branches of trees, their trunks similarly thin and desiccated. The atmosphere was one not only of death, but also collapse: what had once existed in great splendor but had over time been reduced to a mere shadow, a ghost of past times. The sense of decay extended beyond just the material plane.

And, in the middle of it all, stood a lost, lonely little girl, humming softly to herself.

"Run," she chanted, "wound, wither." It was a relatively accurate account of all that had happened to her that day - she had run, she had been wounded... and now she was withering.

Her voice lowered to a whisper as she mouthed the final lyric, sinking to her knees onto the thick, bloodstained carpet of snow. "Fall..." Taja's pallid face turned up to glance at the darkening sky, and all at once, a childish giggle passed her lips; there was something inexplicably comical about her predicament. Her quiet chuckling grew louder until she dropped to her side in hysterics, hands moving up to her neck to wrap around and conceal the two small marks carved into it, such that could only be inflicted by a reptile.

The laughter, however, soon subsided, to be replaced by ragged gasps for air as her breaths came in shudders, sobs, and then chokes.

[imported_Grev Drasen]

“Die?”

A voice pried from the dense crepuscule of the forestry line. It wasn’t like Grev to take such mindless walks, but today he had found himself soaking in the landscape. Never had he taken the time to accept the scenic beauty which surrounded him, but he held a new perspective on things as of late. He found it best to clear his mind this way.

He had been a vagabond all his life, but on this day it was literal.

Nevertheless, the present was now, and he had discovered a girl; apparently overwrought by something. Her gasps were disturbing, but negligible to Drasen at this point. For all he knew or cared she was simply playing the act of possum, and all emotions seemed to do was lead him into trouble.

Today he was unarmed, his light saber hadn’t been replaced since his betrayal from the Order. Although from a glance she seemed incapable of much. He should have walked away; he wanted to. But he couldn’t. If he had, how would he live it down. He couldn’t, and so he stepped from the fog of trees he stopped a little ways before the girl.

She was practically lapsing at his feet, and all he could do was stare.

[imported_Taja Loraan]

This new, third presence - yes, third - came as somewhat of a deliverance, at least in Taja's mind. The single word he spoke, however, only sent her spiraling back into that void of despondency. Die? No... the venom which coursed through her veins wasn't intended to mortally wound her, let alone deprive her of her very life. Death was what she wanted, what she craved, and the voices were never too willing to indulge her wishes. The poison served to simply deny her whatever sanity she had left, constantly reminding her of her madness.

As she looked up at him now, her glazed hazel eyes were speckled with white, but past the emptiness there lay a thin shred of hope. Perhaps he would understand. Perhaps he would cure her of her terminal disease, perhaps he would be her savior; perhaps...

Who are you..? echoed a hushed whisper inside his mind. Taja coughed again and immediately blood spattered across the snow, but this alone wasn't enough to have tainted the ground red. Should he have glanced downwards, he may have noticed that the side she had fallen onto was slashed open and the crimson liquid gushed forth from it freely.

[imported_Grev Drasen]

Closing his eyes, the voice brushed against his mind with the faintest touch of assonance. Her whisper was barely audible, yet clarion to his senses. Who was he? It was a simple question, one which deserved an uttered answer. But he himself had been sitting on that question all along. He was a broken man, and his certain identity was still but a blur.

“Who should I be?”

He spoke just as stagnant, his eyes slowly trailing down to her imbrued body. It was like a water cascade, only in hemic falls. The snow covered ground was daubed with a claret surface, and at its rate she couldn’t fend for herself much longer. Who was he to lend a hand? Only for it to be bitten in return. Walk away, that’s what they said. But he wouldn’t.

Bowing down to a knee, he touched a hand towards her wound. The red stream poured into his opened palm, adorning his spectral skin with a pinkish coat. All he wanted was to run away, but having peered into her eyes, he couldn’t escape without a grief to lodge in his mind. A grief that would only consort with the already present regret weighing on his mind.

With a quick heave, he cradled his hands under her spindly form and lifted. The least he could do was remove her from the forest, then someone else could find her. That’s all he wanted, to drive himself away from all of it. Trudging through the thick blanket of snow, he felt the blood seeping through his clothing, and onto his hands. He had felt the blood of others all throughout his life, and it had no meaning to it.

It was different now. Why couldn’t he had just walked away?

[imported_Taja Loraan]

Her fingers clutched feebly at Grev's outer coat as he raised her into his arms, but the grip could not be maintained for long as the last of her strength dissolved into nothingness. Taja's breathing had by now become agonizingly slow, ragged; her very inhalations were sporadic and insufficient in both frequency and shallowness. Gradually, they developed into a steady rhythm, as the Dark Jedi's realm of awareness faded into that of the comatose. Before reaching this state of unconsciousness, her reply to his question again resounded in his psyche. There was a slight sense of relief, possibly even contentment, tingeing her telepathic voice.

My perfection.

[imported_Grev Drasen]

Peering down as she clutched at his collar, he noted the declining pace in breathing that her body was favoring. His stare was still blank, having no sense of solace for the girl he hadn’t even known, which had left him puzzled as to why he was even giving the slightest effort in abetting her. He glanced back towards the path as her grip fell back into a quiescent fall, and her eyes seemingly descending into unconsciousness.

He had felt her voice wend into his mind once more, her response a bit peculiar to his liking. Her perfection? Surely now she was only capering with his mind, and pedaling him like an instrument for her own amusement. Still, he was pretty much enchanted with her behavior; so be it that if he was in fact blindly stepping into her snare, he might as well have been a hare trapped within the home of a lion.

Reaching his craft, he propped the torpid girl against the base of the ship and kneeled down to her once again to assure her unconscious state; unsure of how to go exactly of dealing with the “problem,” and he so referred to it. Although it was far from his problem, his curiosity had intervened.

“Awake yet?”

[imported_Taja Loraan]

Still faint, Taja's hair spilled forward across her features as her head drooped low, the brilliant red hue somewhat contrasting with the deep crimson that stained her clothing. The bleeding, which continued even now, had by this point reached a fairly harmless level but the wound remained all too susceptible to infection, particularly if left stranded out in the wilderness as she had been... until now.

Several minutes passed in silence and with no sign of reciprocation from the Dark Jedi. Taja's physical demeanor, while sluggish, maintained a slight form of stability in that her health, despite not improving, did not seem to outwardly deteriorate either. When at last Drasen had given up on receiving any sort of response from what was now his 'charge' of sorts and rose to leave, a deathly cold hand suddenly latched onto his, feeble but with resolve. As he turned, the girl's mouth parted slightly, lips moving subtly but soundlessly as she struggled to construct a simple sentence under her breath.

"Don't..." she finally choked out. The dazed stupor she seemed to be suffering from was all too apparent as she finally cast her eyes upward, the expression contained within perfectly blank and distant. Before he could react though, she again repeated in a slow, slurred drawl, yet with far more conviction this time: "Don't." Taja's dark gaze bore into his, her fingers wrapping around his in desperation; begging, pleading, searching...

"Please, don't leave me."

[imported_Grev Drasen]

“Why?”

That was all he could muster as he peered down at the emaciated figure. He felt her grip tightening around his fist, and her nails scratching into the surface of his skin. When trying to pull his hand away it was snatched back into place, as a sneer crept along his face knowing he couldn’t leave her alone.

“I can’t trust you,” now he had to just be candid, “Why stay? To deceive me?”

Kneeling to her once again he sat staring into her dark pupils, wondering why he hadn’t left her be; or gut her for his own assurance of protection already. He had paused for a few moments of pure silence, debating with his conscious, or what he had of a conscious, on what to do. Maybe it was time for a chance.

“Fine,” he gnarled under his breath, glancing back to the girl, “What should I do then?”

[imported_Taja Loraan]

Her hand, still resting lightly on his, now fell back down to her side; she had been wrong, as always. He couldn't help her... and yet, it had all felt so real, so sincere. But then again, who was she to judge the integrity of the insane, especially her own ? The Dark Jedi had experienced similar thoughts about others in the past, only to be disregarded and abandoned; forsaken, and left to suffer through her perpetual madness alone. This time would be no different. Taja's eyes slowly slid shut again, her head moving sideways away from his glare and her cheek pressing against the cold metal of the ship's hull as she muttered dully, "Do whatever you want."

[imported_Grev Drasen]

Now as she collapsed into his grasp once more, her body bending in its lithe form, he corralled his arms around her. Lifting her from the enervated form, he carried her withered body up the grade leading into the craft. The time had passed to cavil with his conscious, now he would just act on a whim; a unique elation had overcome his mind at the present, one he couldn’t explain. It was absurd that his resistant antipathy would have even allowed him to approach the girl in her effete state, but he had.

He couldn’t turn back now, even if he desired so. Loading her into the bay, he covered her body with a threadbare cloak; taking a moment to peruse her with a hint of a simper across his otherwise hollow smile. His livid eyes seemed more than attentive, a bit much for his own good, it always seemed time after time.

Finally leaving her, he began towards the front of the ship to prepare their departure: where he would take her he hadn’t a clue. Why leave her here? Most likely to die? He wouldn’t live it down, not that he would feel a sort of dolor, or guilt, but just because his curiosity would have harrowed him to his death.

As they ascended from the desolate planet, he allotted their destination for that of Coruscant; for whatever reason other than his master residing there for the time being. But he wouldn’t take her to him; he couldn’t face up to Grimm with her - what explanation would he give? His entire veneer would be diminished, and fright of Zasz ending her passed through his mind as he began to space out, a bit overwrought by it all.

“…”

What had he gotten himself into? Perhaps it was for his betterment, or perhaps he was setting up his prelude to disaster.