Setting: Dathomir – Heart of the Red Mists | Singing Mountain Clearing
Date: 24 BBY
The mist never lifted.
Even under Dathomir's midday sun, the dense red haze clung to every leaf, every branch, every breath. The jungle felt alive in a way no other place in the galaxy did—not with the Force alone, but with something more primal, older.
Seris moved through the jungle with measured confidence, flanked by Barriss, Serra Keto, and Master Fay, who glided like a ghost among the gnarled trees. They'd passed through illusions, whispers, and false paths. They'd fought nothing—but the planet had tried to break their minds.
And now, as they stepped into the clearing surrounded by Nightsisters, it felt like they'd arrived in the eye of a storm.
Mist thickened into walls, and at the center stood Mother Talzin.
She was cloaked in the crimson of Dathomir's lifeblood. Her black eyes shimmered like obsidian pools, and her expression was unreadable.
Seris stepped forward.
"I come on behalf of Cain."
Talzin remained silent, her head tilted ever so slightly.
Seris did not bow. But she did speak with reverence and fire.
"We come not to threaten, not to manipulate—but to offer alliance."
The Nightsisters hissed faintly. One stepped forward but was halted with a gesture from Talzin.
Seris continued, voice calm but strong:
"Darth Maul lives. Cain found him. We intend to heal him—in body and in mind. He will have a choice. And Cain wants you to know: the Jedi you once knew are gone. A new order rises."
Fay and Barriss remained silent. Serra stood tall beside her, fingers subtly near her hilt—not from fear, but from instinct.
Talzin's eyes narrowed. Her lips remained sealed.
Seris took a breath.
"Cain asks not for subservience. But partnership. Real partnership. The Singing Mountain Clan and your sisters may travel freely to Tython. You may study the Force, offer teachings, and find a voice among us. You will be respected. Equal."
Still, Talzin did not respond.
But she listened.
Seris inhaled. Here came the hard part.
"But there are rules."
That stirred the witches. A low murmur buzzed beneath the mists.
"First: Freedom of movement. You are free to come to us… and free to leave. That same freedom will be given to your own people. All of them."
Seris's eyes met Talzin's.
"That includes the Nightbrothers."
Talzin's fingers twitched beneath her sleeves. A subtle tilt of the head.
"You will release them. End their servitude. Let them choose. Stay or leave, train or not. They are people, not weapons."
Barriss glanced toward Seris—surprised by her commanding tone.
Fay remained impassive, but Serra's brow furrowed, waiting for the storm to fall.
"And," Seris said firmly, "you will offer reparations. And an apology."
That did it.
The mist pulsed.
The Sisters hissed louder now. Weapons glimmered under cloaks. Even the plants seemed to sway.
Seris stood her ground. Her silver eyes unwavering.
"They were bred to bleed for your ambitions. That must end."
For a long time, Mother Talzin did nothing.
Her hands folded together.
Her head tilted left, then right.
Her voice, when it came, was ancient and sharp, like stone scraping bone.
"You dare," she said, "to stand in our home, under our sky, and speak of reparations?"
Seris nodded once. "Yes. Because I speak the truth. And I was taught that the Force demands truth."
Talzin's gaze passed over Barriss, Serra, Fay. "You come as emissaries… but sound like invaders."
Seris took a slow breath.
"No. We sound like allies who want to break a cycle. Pain. Power. Blood."
Talzin stepped forward.
The mist drew tighter. Her Sisters formed a half-circle behind her. The jungle went still.
"Is that all?" she asked, voice low and dangerous.
Seris held her posture. "Yes."
Talzin raised her hand—
—but not in violence.
Just a motion of thought.
Silence stretched long. She stared at Seris for what felt like an eternity. Measured. Cold. Unreadable.
Then she lowered her hand and turned her back.
Without a word.
The Nightsisters parted, allowing a narrow exit path behind Talzin.
Seris stood still, jaw tight, spine stiff.
Barriss whispered, "That could have gone better."
"No," Fay said quietly, her voice serene. "It went exactly as it needed to."
Serra stepped forward. "You think she's considering it?"
"I think," Fay said, "we showed her we aren't afraid of her. And maybe… that's what she's always needed."
Seris watched Talzin's retreating figure.
"They don't have to like it," she whispered. "They just need to hear it."
Codex Entry 023 – Mist and Fire
> Diplomacy isn't peace. It's fire without smoke. A game of glances and truths wrapped in threats.
But Cain trusted me with this message. And I meant every word.
Maul will be healed. But Talzin needs to change, too.
Freedom isn't just for Jedi. It's for the broken. The forgotten. The obedient.
The cost of alliance is truth. And we just gave her all of it. All of it
The jungle had gone quiet.
Too quiet.
Birds no longer chirped. The low, ambient hum of Dathomir's energy dimmed beneath a pulse of malice.
The red mist thickened, swirling like a rising tide. At its center, a sickly green fog coiled in from nowhere—and within it stood Mother Talzin, rising as if she had never left.
This time, her presence pressed down with visible weight. The trees creaked. The air shimmered. The four Jedi women stood their ground as the forest came alive with murderous intent.
Fay, still as stone, closed her eyes and entered perfect serenity.
Barriss took a slow breath and ignited her single blue blade.
Serra Keto spun both twin lightsabers to life—twin flashes of green in the thick fog.
But it was Seris who stepped forward, golden-blonde braids falling over her shoulder, silver eyes gleaming in the haze. She did not ignite her saber. She did not tremble.
Her voice cut through the tension like light through stormclouds.
> "I'm ready when you are."
Talzin's eyes narrowed. Her mist deepened.
Suddenly, a whistle of wind—and a barrage of Nightsister arrows flew from the treeline like a black storm.
Seris didn't move at first. She closed her eyes. Breathed. Centered.
> Let the Force move through you. Not around you. Not beside you. Through.
Then her body shifted.
One arrow passed within a centimeter of her cheek. Another was knocked away with her forearm—the Force glimmering faintly across her skin like a translucent shield. Her feet spun, knees bent, arms flowing like water as she weaved between shots without panic.
Serra moved to intercept, but Fay held out a hand. "Let her."
The next wave came faster—this time from two angles, with Sister-blades sweeping low to cut at her legs.
Still, Seris did not ignite her lightsaber.
She spun low, arms wide, and used the Force to redirect the blades with open palms. One Sister lunged—Seris stepped inward, elbow to the temple, then turned and lifted another with a palm strike to the chest, disarming without killing.
The air flickered with green magic. The Nightsisters came again.
This time, Seris moved faster.
And faster.
Until she became a blur of white and silver, her body shining like moonlight. Barriss could barely track her. Serra whispered, "She's not fighting anymore. She's flowing."
One by one, the Sisters collapsed—not dead, not broken, but stunned, unable to rise.
Cain's words echoed in her mind:
> "Don't be better than others. Be the best version of yourself. That's how you rise."
Seris rose.
But Mother Talzin was not done.
She raised both hands, and with a crackle of deep green fire, the air exploded with Force Lightning, sickly and wide.
Seris had only a second to react. She lifted her hand—
—and shot back a surge of yellow lightning, her own Electric Judgment lashing forward in a beam of defiance.
The bolts clashed mid-air, showering sparks of green and gold across the battlefield. The trees bent inward. The mist churned violently.
Talzin pushed harder. Her face darkened with fury.
Seris's hands trembled—the current was stronger than she'd ever felt. Her knees bent. Her will began to crack.
> You're not strong enough… You're not him… You're not Cain…
Anakin's voice echoed in memory.
> "Stop comparing yourself to others.
That's how you chain your strength.
Push yourself to be who you dream of."
Seris gritted her teeth.
Closed her eyes.
And stopped pushing back.
She let the Force carry her.
The light around her turned from gold to white-blue, blinding as her body lifted a foot off the ground. Her braids billowed behind her like banners. Her arms extended, channeling not rage, not pride—
—but clarity.
A wave of blinding brilliance surged forward.
Talzin recoiled.
The lightning ceased. The mist pulled back like a retreating tide.
The Nightsisters gasped—those still conscious knelt in fear or awe.
The grove fell silent.
Talzin slowly emerged from the dissipating fog, her robes cracked with energy, face shadowed but eyes curious.
She raised a hand to silence the whispers of her kin.
Then she spoke.
> "We will agree to your terms."
Seris lowered to the ground, trembling but calm, her body flickering with light that slowly dimmed.
She smiled, stepping forward.
And handed Talzin a secure Jedi communicator crystal.
> "Tython awaits. The choice is yours. No chains. No bindings. Just a door we will not close."
Talzin accepted the device but said nothing. Only turned—slowly disappearing into the forest, her Sisters following like wraiths into the red mist.
Codex Entry 024 – Mist and Clarity
> *I didn't need my saber today. I needed only my truth.
The Seris I dreamed of—the one who didn't need to fight to prove her worth—
She finally stepped forward.*
Cain trusted me with his message.
I gave it not with threats or blades—
But with clarity, conviction, and light.*
And maybe… just maybe…
That was enough.*