A Dream Is In The Eye Of The Beholder

[Syllel]

Running With Knives

Syllel awoke, immediately noticing the stench of blood, sick, and other scents she truly didn't wish to identify. It took her less than a moment to realize where she was. The cell door, the the wall, crisscrossed with old burns, chips, and other imperfections that she had meticulously counted, recounted and memorized. Across the tiny cell was the rack and a tray of all too familiar implements of pain. Blood pooled under the rack and stained its surface, steaming slightly in the cold air and filling the room with a dank coppery scent that churned the stomach. The only light in the room came from a heavy door that, for the moment, stood open.

"What in the galaxy are we doing here of all places?" A voice chimed out from behind her and Syllel turned, once again facing her mirror, who looked equally displeased to be in such an unpleasant memory.

"So it wasn't you that brought us here?" Syllel asked, taking a slow look around the room. Curiously she reached down and touched the blood, sending ripples across the still fresh pool as her fingers came away red and sticky.

"Of course not. This place isn't exactly my idea of a good time, but we're here so I'll ask you again. Have you thought of what you wanted? I'm growing impatient. Everyone is, little girl."

"I have." Syllel replied, her eyes drifting once more to the table and the gleaming tools that sat there. With a flick of her wrist she called one to her hands. It was strange to be the one holding the implement instead of having it carve fissures across her skin.

"Is this supposed to be where you attack me? Rejecting me once and for all as some kind of defiant scream to prove you are your own person? You know you can't hurt me."

"I know." Syllel turned the blade to herself.

"Oh someone's being dramatic." The mirror let out a little laugh, crossing her arms with an amused smirk. "If you actually were going to you would have done so already. You failed twice before, surely you know a third time isn't going to work either. Stop with the theatrics already." She reached out a hand, yellowed gaze locked firmly on Syllel's eyes.

Syllel said nothing, instead she maneuverer the blade up to her throat then behind her neck. With a sharp motion Syllel drew it across one of the few things in the galaxy that she truly valued and in the next heartbeat a clump of white fell from her shoulders , landing in the stony tiles and blood. It twisted slightly in the thick liquid before becoming sodden and stained with red. "Is... That supposed to impress me?" Her companion's face twisted in innate disgust, after all they both knew what it meant to her. Syllel, however, simply continued her motion, causing other clumps of precious white material to fall from her shoulders and onto the filthy floor.

Once she was done Syllel took a deep breath, ruffling what was left over her hair with a slightly shaking hand. "It was easier with help."

"Great. You made your little song and dance. Are you finally ready to actually accomplish something of worth or are we going to sit here while you get your claws done next?" The mirror asked with a biting tone, stepping around the pooling mess of hair and blood. At first she moved to lean against the rack before deciding it was far too filthy. With a dissatisfied huff she settled for crossing her arms, looking the picture of disdainful annoyance.

Syllel let the knife fall from her hands with a soft clatter, muffled by the liquid on the floor. "I've made my decision. I think I finally understand what I need to do." Syllel started to walk towards the door.

At these word's the mirror's mood seemed to rapidly change and a savage grin came to her face. "Finally! I swear you are the most stubborn being I've ever met but the two of us together can do great things. You want luxury, we'll have it. Ships, palaces, women, friends, power. It's all yours. Now lets get out of here." The mirror giddily followed along, practically skipping through the dank cell to follow Syllel before the original moved sharply, slamming the door in her mirror's face. "Hey! What do you think you're doing? I'm still in here idiot."

"I know. And you're right. I will have that. I'll have everything I ever wanted."

"Hey, you need me too. You can't do this all by yourself." The mirror yelled, outraged from the sudden reversal.

"I finally get what the sith meant. You can't be friends with the dark side. You've got to cage it, contain it, because you are a poisonous little thing and the second I turned my back I'm sure you'd sink a knife in it." From the other side of the bars Syllel stared at her companion. "No. You belong in a cage. I'll use what I want but you... You're never getting out of here."

The mirror let out a scream of anguish and rage, pounding on the door. "You'll see you little fool! I'll get out of here! I'll - " Syllel didn't bother listening to the rest, instead she slid the grate closed, turning the furious threats into muffled noise. Slowly she inhaled, taking a deep breath. It felt as if a horrible weight had been lifted from her shoulders. Perhaps this was the wrong choice, or perhaps it was the right one... But did it matter? She'd made her choice.

Syllel let out a soft pattering laugh turning and walking from the dungeon, not bothering to look back at the softly rattling door and the creature that raged within. She would have it all, everything she ever wanted and more. After all, that was what being sith was all about wasn't it? A sly smile crept onto her face and for once, everything seemed to be working out in her favour.


The End