A Dream Is In The Eye Of The Beholder

[Syllel]

Lost Soul

Syllel sat on the sand, overlooking the blasted field that the imperials and republic had squabbled over not to long ago. Things had gone silent now, for the first time in a while and the only noises left was the quiet shifting of sand as the wind blew it. "Why did I wish for something to happen." She picked up a stone ang angrily tossed it into the distant sands. Instead of striking with a distinctive hiss the stone bounced, skipping across the surface while casting strangle ripples like disturbed water. Syllel rubbed her eyes, not quite sure what was occurring.

She rose to her feet slowly, determined to head back to the outpost and get some sleep but as she turned the apprentice was greeted by an endless ocean of sand, stretching into the horizon and far farther than she was certain she had walked. "Okay not that way." Syllel turned back around, expecting the remains of the battlefield and blasted holes to return to her field of vision but instead it was just more sand, smooth and flat in every direction with not a feature in sight. "So it's one of those days. Okay."

Without much care where she was headed Syllel began to walk, trudging in a straight line across the vast sea. Absently she thought eventually someone would pass overhead in a scout vessel, or maybe a mortar would target her, something... Anything to give her a grasp on what direction she was headed and who was around. But such was not her fate, she continued walking and minutes stretched into what felt like hours. No visible progress seemed to have been made and the moon hung ominously in the sky, frozen.

Something wasn't quite adding up and Syllel settled down in the sand, patting it once before letting out a frustrated sigh. "I know you're out there. Come on, lets get this over with."

Almost like clockwork a voice replied, "How're you feeling. Been a big few days, yeah?" Syllel rolled her eyes, eliciting a laugh from her mirror, "Not a fan of mass death then. Not when you're in the firing line at least, that's understandable. It takes a certain-"

"Get to the point." Syllel snapped, already tiring of the apparition's seemingly weekly appearance to annoy her.

"So touchy. Fine, fine." Syllel's mirror said, waving her hands. The sand melted away and the scenery blurred then changed, shifting and warping into a familiar setting: A rather decadently appointed bedroom dominated by a colossal bed laden with pillows. Two doors sat on either side of the room. Syllel knew the first would lead to a long hallway and the other would lead to a walk in closet chock full of dresses. "How about something more familiar?"

Syllel stood, moving over to the walls to inspect the tapestries along the walls, a small smile of remembrance playing across her face at the woven image of a single sith with lighting issuing from their eyes to twelve kneeling disciples, one of her most favourite trophies. "It is nice, but you mentioned wine last time." Her counterpart let out a low laugh before holding out a previously unseen goblet of wine. "I suppose this works."

"You know why we're here. Have you given it some thought?"

"I have."

Her companion frowned, furrowing her brown in a concerned expression, "You know we share the same patterns. I know you're upset."

"The battle." Syllel volunteered, lapsing into silence as if expecting some sort of response or dismissal. When none came she continued, "I've never seen so many people die, not ever. I didn't have time to process it, not in the moment. But after... Th triage, all those injured. And even more people left out there to simply bleed in the sand."

"It wasn't you in the sand though."

"I-It wasn't." Syllel's face hardened, a bit of outrage filling her voice, "Those were still people though. Our people. Their lives had meaning, just as much as ours."

"Do they?" Syllel began to respond, a taste of bile rising in her throat at the smugly smiling reflection of herself. "Not many beings can use the force. Less of them can survive. That does, at least statistically, make you a bit more significant."

"Was that supposed to make me feel better? People died. A lot of people died and we couldn't do anything to help them! I couldn't do anything to help them! How are we supposed to claim to be powerful, to rule the galaxy if we can't even keep out own people out of harm's way?"

"No one ever said that having power meant you were infallible. Look around you, you've got plenty of examples of powerful sith screwing up. Things don't always can't work out. That's just life. Same with all those people in the cantina. They all had lives and families, right? What about them."

Syllel nodded slowly with the mirror's words. "Now enough with the sad-sack attitude. What is it that you want out of... Well all this." Her companion stared at Syllel expectantly and when no answer came forth she rolled her yellow eyes in frustration. "IReally? You've gone through all this bloodshed, survived for so long, and endured so much pain. And you don't even know why?" Syllel shifted uncomfortably, for once unable to meet her counterpart's gaze. "Is this some kind of joke?"

"Do I look like I'm joking?"

"Just... Get out of here. We'll talk again soon, stupid girl. Provided you haven't managed to kill yourself." A moment after the words were uttered Syllel awoke with a start, jerking upright on the cooling sand outside of the outpost, right where she had guess she had fallen asleep. With a soft groan Syllel turned, staggering back to the outpost, not quite sure what to feel after this most recent discussion.