Embers ◂ Poe Dameron

03. 𝐁ruised and battered

𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐄𝐄

The funny thing about time, as with ignorance, is how much is revealed when it all strips away.

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ARKANIS, 22 ABY

❖━━━━━━⋇ before the siege, part one

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THE FACT THAT AMELIA FOUND HERSELF clinging to the handle of a blaster more often than another person's hand should have been more disturbing to her than it actually was.

"ONE." A hollow clang echoed through the air as a plasma bolt shot straight into the target's bullseye. Energy swirled beneath Amelia's skin, the joyfully leaping adrenaline in the pit of her stomach rebounding against the deadly calm that controlled her finite motions.

"TWO." Her hand shifted ever so slightly to the right, aiming for the next target's dead center and bracing for the recoil as her finger found the curved metal trigger with a delicate exhale.

"THREE." Another inch to the right, another short tug, another bolt ripping through the target as if it were made of paper.

"This one has good aim." Amelia's instructor nodded approvingly as the eyes of every other cadet fell upon her, dark with suppressed curiosity. The blaster felt hot in the young woman's hand as her gaze landed on the three perfect holes smoking in the circular targets, staring out like empty pupils from thin metal irises as if they could see straight through her. She bobbed her head curtly in response, having long been accustomed to the stiff movement, and made sure to angle her next shot too far upward. The last thing she wanted was to be recruited as a sharp-shooter, for no matter how often every officer said there was no difference between hitting metal and flesh, the haunted eyes of those forced to kill told a different story.

Amelia couldn't help but stare back into the empty faces of each student who looked her way, though they turned quickly to avoid her fearless, piercing gaze. Even with a fleeting glance, she could tell which ones had been forced to shoot through a living organism, which ones held a weight of immovable guilt with each shuddering, blood-soaked breath. It was as if she sensed the swirling crimson trails bleeding from their contorted hearts and the loaded gun ready to blow apart their lungs, the consequences of welcoming another to death before they are ready. Their nightmarish memories reflected across every molecule of the surrounding air; she could see towers of limp, faceless corpses where each of her shots had landed, charred limbs intertwining into emptiness as her own thin hands choked the light out of each and every soul. This is what it takes to kill, the room seemed to whisper. Either you are already insane, or you become insane.

Nausea crept through Amelia's stomach at the thought, uneasiness settling in her throat as if it would never leave. Her fingertips burned as if all sentience was being crushed out of them, and it wasn't hard for her to imagine the skin and bone crumbling to ancient dust. Setting down the blaster and slipping out the door at the next chance, the halls loomed over her as she navigated the massive academy. It was nothing short of a maze bursting with sharp turns and endless corridors; even the most experienced could find themselves becoming lost in such an abyss. Amelia kept tightly to the shadows by instinct, an invisible creature made of a darkness so deep that not even stars could shine through.