Visions

Twenty-Nine: A Haunted Resolve

Arene knew she was free, but she didn't feel free. Ezra had sacrificed for her, but she wasn't worthy. If he knew how she'd enjoyed, even relished the power Plagueis had given her...he wouldn't have done it.
Being in the back of her own mind, but feeling, almost doing the same things Plagueis had, Arene had learned so much. Yet from what Kanan and Ezra had told her, how she could do those things was wrong.
The guilt constricted her like a vice, making her feel as though she couldn't breathe. Instinctively, her hand went to her throat, even though she knew the pressure came from within. She closed her eyes. She couldn't do this. Moving on, pretending it all hadn't happened, that was impossible.
She couldn't do it. She just couldn't.
Arene pushed herself to her feet and left the small space between two crates where she'd been sitting. Hiding, really.
Not just to be alone and out of sight, though.
Ever since they'd returned to Chopper Base, Ezra had been watching her like a hawk, and it was driving her insane. She understood and was very grateful that he wanted to keep her safe and didn't want something else to happen to her, but it was just too much.
So Arene hid. It didn't really matter, though. Because he was a Jedi, Ezra probably knew where she was at all times. Thankfully, they were all preparing for this trip to Mandalore now, so he hadn't had time to follow her around.
Instead, he'd made sure she had a bodyguard at all times.
Thankfully, Marden was no Jedi, and she was able to slip away fairly easily.
Arene looked from side to side before slipping from her space. No Jedi, and no Marden. She moved quietly out of the base, careful not to draw any attention to herself. She didn't see Ezra, but she did see Marden, and was able to duck out of view just in time. The tall man just didn't know when to quit.
Soon, she was at the cave, and stopped outside, remembering.

The cave was narrow, and seemingly hundreds of spiders poured through the holes in the walls. The lack of fear Plagueis was feeling terrified Arene, but she also felt something...exhilarating.
Plagueis' lightsaber flashed crimson light in the dark cave, and he moved swiftly, almost dancing amid the spiders.
Something told Arene that the spiders wouldn't have attacked, but they could tell that something was...wrong. She didn't have to be a Jedi to know they sensed Plagueis' darkness.
The Jedi are not the only Force-wielders.
Arne ignored him, watching as her body, out of her control, spun and jumped onto a spider, driving the blade deep into the spider's head. Plagueis grinned, and if Arene had control, she would have as well.

Arene slipped inside the cave, and kneeled down on the floor. The bodies of the dead spiders were not to be found, and she shuddered to imagine what happened to them. It was better not to think about it.
She quickly slipped her backpack off, removed the metal pieces she had collected from around the base and placed them on the ground before her.
She shook slightly, but still reached up, yanking the cord around her neck. The necklace broke, and she quickly removed the twine keeping the crystal in place.
She stopped, rubbing the crystal in her hand. She closed her eyes, unsure. Was she ready?
Her eyes flashed back open.
Yes. She placed the crystal on the ground amidst the scattered pieces. She was ready.
Arene closed her eyes again, emptying her mind. She meditated, not as Plagueis had, not as Ezra did. As she did.
It felt natural, moving the pieces into place; the wooden handgrip settled easily in the middle, with the power cell and emitter matrix directly in front. The blue crystal, last of all, floated into the very midst, and the metal outer pieces and buttons all formed around it.
She felt a bond grow between her and the cylinder suspended in the air, and reached out a hand, grasping it.
Arene opened her eyes, and took in the lightsaber.
She had hand-carved the wooden handle. The stick had seemed to call out to her from its place in the ground, and she had known somehow that it was for her saber.
The durasteel emitter matrix had been stolen from a blaster she'd found lying around. From the name carved on the side, Hobbie would be upset when he found that his gun was missing its barrel.
The power switch had been in a box of junk Chopper kept on the Ghost, and the cylinder that covered the rest of the lightsaber had come from a metal pole she'd found leaned up against one of the buildings after a pipe had broken. She'd cut off three inches before returning it, and had noticed later a worker looking upset and bringing the pole back to replace it with a longer one.
Arene stood up, grasping the handle carefully, and breathed out worriedly. She'd taken Ezra's saber and inspected it, taking it apart with her mind, before attempting her own, and all felt right, but she still had a bit of fear of it not turning on, or worse, exploding in her hand.
She closed her eyes, and pressed the button.
A hiss came, and the saber hummed in her hand. Arene opened he eyes and took in the blade of light.
She frowned. She'd been expecting a blue or green blade, like Kanan and Ezra's sabers. Even maybe a red, because of her feelings.
But this lightsaber produced a blade a darker violet than her skin.

Many of the truths we cling to depend greatly on our own point of view.
~Obi-Wan Kenobi