Star Wars: Knights of the Old Republic: Stolen Soul

Chapter Ten: The Swamp

After hours of walking in what seemed liked circles. We finally grew tired, and we sat down to rest a bit. I stumbled to a nearby rock, and collapsed against it. I reached into my bag, and pulled out the bag of water. I reached up, and allowed the cool water to trickle into my dry, thirsty mouth. I gulped, and relaxed in satisfaction. I looked over at Skere, who was leaning against the tree, pouring rivers of water into his opened mouth. I smiled weakly in amusement. He lowered his hand, and tied the sack closed. He then looked over at me, wiping his dripping chin with the back of his hand.

"So," he started. "What happens when you're not with your Master?" He asked, I detected sarcasm.

I shrugged, "Nothing, he has left me before. He hardly even trained me." I told him, placing the sack of water back into my bag.

"Wow, okay. Well, you have learned a lot, considering that Revans never taught you." He stated.

"Thank you." I said, standing up, "We should probably press forward."

Skere nodded, arriving at my side, and walking my pace. "Where exactly are we going?" He asked.

I ignored him, and quickened my steps.

Skere stopped. "Okay, so if we are not going anywhere in particular. I am going to head back to the ship. You should come too." He glanced around, "It's dangerous out here, especially wondering around aimlessly."

I looked up at him. "I saw smoke rising in this direction, I thought maybe they're there." I told him.

He nodded, "Perhaps you saw fog, but nonetheless, we will go check it out." He told me, stepping forward.

I jumped forward to his side.

He turned to look down at me. "Sophmar," he spoke quietly. "Do you know what people call this moon?"

I looked up, and shook my head.

"The Demon Moon." He told me.

"The Demon Moon?" I repeated, "Why do they call it that?"

The mush from the swamp squished beneath our boots, making a disgusting sound. Skere looked around us, then he looked back at me. "There have been tales of a Sith Lord who lives on this moon." Skere shook his head, as if he was reliving the story himself. "They're only legends."

"Has there been any account of his existence recently?" I asked.

"No, not recently. Not many people talk of it." He told me. "In the tale, Jedi Master Arca Jeth relocated the Onderon King. Who proclaimed himself a Sith Lord on to this moon. It is said he still here, not in physical form, of course. In my time on Onderon, I've heard people talk in the Cantinas about a tomb here on Dxun, which belongs to the ancient king Freedon Nadd."

"A Sith tomb, here?" I said, glancing around the eerie looking swamps. I shivered at the thought. I had never encountered an actual Sith Lord.

Skere laughed, and squeezed my shoulder. "Come on now, it is only a tale."

I nodded, accepting his reassurance.

We continued to walk forward, Skere talked of random things surrounding us. I commented here and there to keep the conversation going, it was much better than walking in silence. It also helped with passing time. He talked of his times at the Jedi Temple of Coruscant. I asked him questions of the place, and what the people were like. I was astonished at some of the things he said, of how some of his fellow Jedi behave. He told me that he once had a Padawan in the past, but the council deemed him incapable of training a youngling. Saying that he possessed too great of a passion, which would lead to corrupting the youngling. I scoffed at the thought. I understood why the Jedi held the balance in emotion so sacred. But I also believe in order to have balance, one must also be in touch with one's emotion. It can far better get a job done.