"Let me not to the marriage of true minds
Admit impediments. Love is not love
Which alters when it alteration finds,
Or bends with the remover to remove.
O no! it is an ever-fixed mark
That looks on tempests and is never shaken;
It is the star to every wand'ring bark,
Whose worth's unknown, although his height be taken.
Love's not Time's fool, though rosy lips and cheeks
Within his bending sickle's compass come;
Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks,
But bears it out even to the edge of doom.
If this be error and upon me prov'd,
I never writ, nor no man ever lov'd."
—William Shakespeare, Sonnet 116

I kept my promise to Nysa, my reminder always there. I was strong for her. If I am completely honest with myself, it was a relief to have a real task. Having something to do kept my mind focused.

I can say this, though: the pain of losing friends, especially if you are the one responsible for one or both of their deaths, never goes away. It was no great secret: I endured what is unbearable, and I bear it.

They say time heals all wounds, but that presumes the source of the grief is finite. Niern was dead. Forever. There was no changing that.

I still did not cry, though. I was Dark Jedi. I did not cry, regardless of my circumstances. Crying didn't solve any problem, and it only made me appear weaker than I was.

I slept for a few hours after we returned. I awoke from too realistic nightmares. After that, I didn't attempt any rest of that sort.

I can easily say that none of us would be the people we were had those deaths not happened.

For me, it was the definition of death. It was a struggle to grab hold of the act that I would never again conspire with Niern in a prank war. I would never see that impish smirk that I loved. Never again would I wave to Lorna in passing or challenge her to spar. The girl that would summon me to her room to try a new plait would never again run her skilled fingers through my hair.

For Nysa, she seemed to realize what those around her did for her. Often times, she would thank me for being there or just being a friend.

Still, something broke inside Nysa to see her soulmate go up in flames. It was something I feared would never again be fixed. After all, you could re-piece together a mirror, but there would always be a crack blocking your view.

Somehow, it was Chinelo that learnt the most, I think. He had told me legends among his and Nysa's people, great warriors who defied death to help their offspring in their wars. While Nysa had disregarded the folklore of their people, Chinelo always seemed to hold onto it. I think circumstances forced him to gain a larger perspective of the world.

It happened to suddenly that it was almost unexpected.

I was walking in the Commons one day when Chinelo came around a corner, pulling someone along. I could not see the person, but they were fighting, but Chinelo's amused expression told me it was all in good sport.

For a moment, I had absolutely no idea who he was looking at. I had never seen Chinelo wear such an expression. It was as if he could do nothing but be happy with such a person. There was a twinkle in his eye that told me everything: he was in love.

Remembering my conversation a few weeks prior, I released now that it was not Lorna. It was someone else.

But who else did he spend all his time with? Who else was he good-enough friends with to fall in love?

Chinelo obviously overpowered his lover. He pulled them in, kissing them full on the mouth.

And that's when I realized who it was. I ducked to give them their much-deserved privacy.

One day, I would laugh as I told them the story of how I accidentally ran in on them having a moment together, and they would laugh back.

Nysa and I would joke about how horribly obvious they were and hope they would be in an open relationship soon.

Even Cressida would sometimes make an indiscreet comment about their obvious romance.

But for some reason, it was almost a year before Chinelo announced that he and Yovan were together.

Admittedly, they did not exactly choose the best time to tell us. Being seventeen, I was either going to have to get a Master or wait and apply for a Shoda opportunity. Nysa,, Gnana, Yovan, and I were all the same age, and we were trying to help each other decide what to do.

After convincing Gnana that her best bet would most likely be a Shoda apprenticeship, Chinelo came running through the mess hall, obviously trying to be discreet about attracting attention.

He kissed Nysa's and my forehead in a brotherly gesture, nodded to Gnana, then grasped Yovan's hands and pulled him into a kiss.

Half the Dark Jedi in the room dropped their plates, and the other half gasped. Even Nysa and I weren't expecting it right then and there.

To our relief, Yovan returned the sentiment and looked mildly amused by our faces.

He saw the judging looks of a few of the Dark Jedi and scowled. He gave them his favorite GLS gesture, the rise of a single finger.

Then I laughed like I hadn't laughed in a very long time. Despite the stress of having to plot our futures, the rest of us laughed to.

•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•

When I was summoned to the Council Chambers, I didn't expect it not to be about my decision to adopt a Master.

"About a year ago," Master Gi began. She had a way of speaking forwardly while still managing to be quite compassionate. "As your friend Niern died, you released a wave of Dark energy through the Force."

I nodded. Chinelo had told me. "What of it?" I asked.

A few of the masters exchanged glances. I looked at the Grandmaster, who was kneeling, head bowed, in the center of the semicircle, like her spirit was not even present.

"You don't understand," Master Madaga-Ru said. He spoke with the eery but spiritual echo that all Voss spoke with. He was hypnotic whenever he would speak, partially because of his voice, partially because of his emotionlessness. "It was not just Nequek that felt your tremor. It was felt throughout the galaxy."

Master Gi cleared her throat loudly, obviously wanting to be the one speaking. "For a decade of millennia, we were able to keep our existence a secret from most of the Force-using community. Even most Jedi knew nothing of us but old stories. Thanks to you, that is no longer so."

I narrowed my eyes. If I was being accused, then tell me to my face. Don't make me grasp at straws in your language! "Is that a bad thing?" I asked as nonchalantly as possible.

Master Gi sighed. "We are not blaming you. You do not know your own power. But we felt it necessary for you to know your deed."

I couldn't argue logically against logic. "Is this all you wanted to tell me?"

"For now, yes," Master Minho responded.

"You do not see how grave our situation is." Master Gi cut in again. "The Dark Jedi are not much for politics, but the Jedi have forced our hand. We must appoint a Dark Jedi representative to the Jedi Council. The Jedi think they can monitor us simply because they have greater numbers. They think—"

Master Thraina held up a hand, stopping Master Gi's voice mid-sentence. She did not even look up as she said, "Master Gi is being forced to deal with the Jedi, since she is one of the few among us who used to be Jedi and thus know their beliefs. What she is not telling you is that she does not believe that the Jedi should be involved with the Senate, or with politics, for that matter."

I nodded, thanking the Grandmaster. While I respected each member of the Dark Council, some were easier to respect than others.

"Also," Master Thraina looked up at me, as if she herself was about to defy her own Council. "We have elected your old friend Master Plo Koon as Dark Jedi representative. Considering this, his decision to adopt you as Padawan has been postponed. Though, if you applied for a Shoda apprenticeship, you could go with him to Coruscant in two two three years."

My eyes flew wide open with excitement. "I'll do it, Master. Thank you!"

I felt like that nine year-old girl again, just arriving in Tatooine. I was excited for the new possibilities that awaited me.

It was rare that I could feel my own aura, but I felt many colors coming off of myself. I was a paint tray, full of many options for the painters to choose from. Master Thraina had pulled out a bright blue, a color matching my eyes, a color that represented happiness and excitement.

[A/N:

Anyone catch on to not one, but two Magnus Bane quotes in the chapter?!

*high fives self*

Also... purely a transitional chapter... sorry it's kinda crap.

Love y'all!

Peace, love, and
~Art