"To understand Empress Reyzl, one must look at her beginnings. Before she ruled the galaxy, before she brought forth an era of unprecedented, if uncertain peace, she was once a slave to the Galactic Empire. For you to know the Empress, you must also know Darth Imperius, Dark Lord of the Sith and keeper of ancient knowledge."
—Jedi Master Gnost-Dural, excerpt from "Galactic History Vol. MCM Chapter XXIII"
The shuttle arrived on a dust bowl, filled with pain and death. From the moment my feet touched the ground, I knew that whatever pain and hardship I endured before I became an acolyte paled in comparison to what awaits me here. Korriban was a planet of hatred and deceit, and I felt it pouring in like tidal waves conjured by Leviathan. I took a moment to stop and breathe, trying to reel my inner turmoil before I lost myself. I could not,
must not, show any weakness. The moment I do, it's all over.
"Peace is a lie," I murmured to myself, reciting the line that stuck out to me the most during my studies.
I marched with the group of acolytes, all former slaves except for one, burning with arrogance and power. He rudely bumped into me, giving me a smirk as he did so. A pureblood Sith. Miraluka did not see color, not normally, but a red hue clung to him like a cloud. It was repulsive and made me want to vomit.
A man waited for us at the main entrance of the shuttle bay. Wrinkles and markings, face worn and scowling at the mere sight of us. The only one he showed no disgust for was the pureblood who walked past him, merely giving a respectful nod before looking back at us with pure disdain.
"About time you wretched lot got here," the man spat. "I have no idea why the Empire bothers with you. Personally, were it up to me, I'd just have all of you line up for the Imperials to practice their marksmanship. Even so, as per tradition and because you're too stubborn to lie down and die, you've been given a unique opportunity. Do not let this go to your heads."
I frowned, but kept my tongue in check. Another acolyte glared at the man, his hand inching towards the vibro-blade at his waist.
"I am Overseer Harkun, and it is my duty to weed out the weak to semi-decent dregs who might have what it takes to become Sith. I'm not holding my breath. Under the orders of Lord Zash, I've been asked to see who among you will become her apprentice. If you were hoping this would be easy, think again!" He glared at us and wasted no time in getting to the point. "Your first trial has already begun. Your task is to find a hermit by the name of Spindrall. You'll find him hiding out somewhere in the tomb of Ajunta Pall. Receive instruction from him, and then return to my office at the academy. If you fail to return within the allotted time, you fail." Harkun's expression lightened, lips thinning and exposing sharp teeth. "And you die."
Unfortunately for you, I have no intention of dying anytime soon.
"You should already have the map downloaded to the devices loaned to you. If you don't have one, then you should have taken better care for it." Harkun stared at us for a minute before raising his voice. "Well, what are you waiting for? Get a move on, you trash! I said your trials have already started, haven't I?!"
The acolytes ran as if Behemoth himself was at their heels. I trailed behind the group long enough to see Harkun giving me a venomous glare, the most disgusted I've seen him in the short time we've met. I did not have to guess why; he, like every other Imperial or Sith in power, made their xenophobia about aliens blatantly clear.
"Hey, don't let him get to you!" An acolyte slowed down and walked next to me. Her features weren't hardened or full of distrust like the others. Hers were softer, more kind with freckles sprinkled along the bridge of her nose. "You'll do fine. I doubt he'll get rid of us all. At least one of us has to pass."
I could tell she was being sincere. She gave genuine encouragement and wanted to reassure me when she saw Harkun's expression as we left. I wanted to appreciate her words, but all I could feel was resignation.
She wasn't going to last a week here. She was probably going to die as early as today.
"…thanks," I said. "I appreciate that. I'm T—" I stopped, inwardly cursed myself and told her my other name. The name given to me in this life. "Reyzl. Reyzl Vay."
"Kory. Nice to meet you!"
I should be dead. I should have died a hundred times over in the fifteen years I lived as a Miraluka, but those near-deaths were inconsequential. I should have died that day. I knew it when I heard Contessa speaking behind me, a gun primed to the back of my head. It took two bullets, one aimed for my corona pollentia and one for the brain itself. In a second, Taylor Hebert—Khepri, the girl who saved the world at the cost of robbing the wills of countless others—died.
But I didn't die. Instead, I felt like I was adrift at sea, floating atop the calm ocean waves, barely able to think. I could not open my eyes. I couldn't feel anything.
It felt like hours, being left in that state. I wondered whether this was what it was like to die before something in the back of my head suddenly clicked, and the waves grew intense. All of a sudden, I felt
everything. The gentle silence shattered into billions of peace beneath the weight of a wild, disorganized mess of feelings and things I could not make heads or tales of. I opened my mouth to scream, but I heard nothing.
I learned only later that what I felt then was the Force. A living aura, a force field for lack of better words or description, connected through every living thing. I learned this from Dugal, my Miralukan father. He taught me all I needed to know; how to hunt, how to fish, how to use the Force to
see. Miralukans had no eyeballs and were otherwise blind, but just because we had no eyes did not mean we could not look at the world. Through our connection to the Force, the world revealed itself to us.
I was confused at first, trying to make sense of it all. The world I lived in now was so vastly different than my own, more than I initially thought. For starters, my homeworld was not planet Earth. I wasn't even sure Earth existed in this universe. There were human beings in this world, yes, but anytime I asked about "earth" people assumed I was talking about the ground beneath my feet. If Earth did exist at some point, it was either turned to space dust or long forgotten. Humans co-existed with various other races, some near-human, some humanoid, others truly strange and bizarre.
This world was a science-fiction geek's wet dream, and why wouldn't it be? It was
Star Wars for fuck's sake.
That said, any ideas I may have had about enjoying it were thrown out the window the day I learned about the governing powers.
I was twelve when my homeworld, a planet no one could care less about, was invaded by the Galactic Empire. I was made a slave, shacked and bound in chains. I never saw my parents after that. I did not know if they were still alive or if they died during the invasion. All I knew for certain was that after barely a month of resistance the Republic quietly handed the planet over, unable to maintain their grip.
"You musn't let anyone know you can use the Force," Dugal told me when he explained the Miraluka's ability to use the Force. "If the Imperials know you're Force-sensitive…"
I ended up breaking that promise when an Imperial soldier, incensed at a slave's rebellious attitude, tried to kill him. I was fourteen when it happened, enduring two years of abuse from various masters and soldiers. The shocks grew duller as the years passed and I could barely feel the bruises. I saw fellow slaves drop dead, one after the other. I should have known better, but remnants of my old life, of when I was still a naïve sixteen-year-old girl dreaming of one day being like Alexandria or Armsmaster, propelled me to act. The imperial soldier barely raised his blaster when I threw him into the wall and broke his neck without even laying a finger on him.
Ironically, it was the slave I saved that ratted me out, in exchange for freedom. I felt betrayed and hurt, but I couldn't fault him for it. He was just trying to survive. He wanted to see his family again.
My life as a slave ended when an Imperial troop took me away someplace and brought me before a monster. When I saw him, I saw a bloody hue wrapped around him like a shroud of death. Jack Slash and Scion, the biggest monsters I ever knew, despised, and feared? They all paled in comparison to him. I felt as though I was being swallowed by a storm of rage. I wanted to puke, I wanted to scream, I wanted to run away, but I was a prisoner within my own body. I could only stand there and watch as the monster evaluated me.
"Typical," the monster said after a moment. "How is it that your masters failed to realize who you are is nothing short of incompetence. Still, I'm amazed you managed to hide yourself from our eyes this long, Miraluka. I've heard much of your kind. It is not often an entire species is Force-sensitive. Be honored you deal with me rather than another Sith, child. Odds are they would sooner put you in shackles and you'd never see the light of day."
Sith. A name spoken with equal amounts of fear and loathing. A race and power that lord over the Empire as its masters, opposites of the Jedi in every way. The same people who destroyed the Miralukan homeworld two centuries ago.
"Are you incapable of speaking?" the Sith demanded. "Or are you perhaps stricken with fear?"
I swallowed the lump in my throat, voice small and weak. I hated how I shrank beneath his gaze. "What happens now?" I asked feebily. "Are you going to kill me?"
The Sith smiled as if I told him a joke. "No, I will not. In fact, I offer you a means to rise above your station. That is, if you're willing to do what must be done to survive. The Empire views non-Sith and non-human races as being lower creatures, meant to either be crushed beneath our heels or become tools for further glory. However, if Imperial citizens, regardless of their station, show themselves to be Force-sensitive, then they are to be inducted into the Sith Order. It is the highest honor for those of low birth.
Especially a slave."
My hands balled into fists. The Sith's smile grew slightly.
"Miraluka, from this moment forward, you will become an acolyte. A shuttle is scheduled to arrive within the week to bring inductees to a training facility under Imperial jurisdiction. From there, you will train, be taught our ways, and learn to master the Force. It is a grand privilege and honor, but the training will be severe. It will push you to your limits. If you hesitate, if you show weakness for even a moment, you will die."
He stepped forward, glaring down at me with that same toothy, vicious smile. "From this moment forward, you have two choices. You either fail the training and die a slave, or live and become a member of our order."
The choice was made for me before I even set foot in that room. It was not the last time I would meet this Sith, I knew that the moment I met him, but I dreaded the day I would meet him again.
The tomb of Ajunta Pall was filled with danger, whether it be k'lor'slugs or raving madmen. Like the rest of Korriban, death and hate filled this place in droves and it showed. The slugs were feral and foaming at the mouth, attacking anyone and everyone they found. Imperial soldiers who stayed too long became touched in the head and snapped, gunning down their allies and attacking anyone they saw as a threat. Weaker-willed acolytes succumbed to the fear and rage of this place, no longer of sane mind and worse off than the Imperials. I cut them down all the same, and each time I felt sick. The slugs weren't an issue, but killing people even if they were crazy brought me no peace.
Why anyone would want to live here, I have no idea. Harkun was right to believe Spindrall was crazy, but then again, I've heard plenty of stories of how insane Sith usually are.
Finding the old hermit was easy enough. Through the haze of death, I found him sitting in a cavern, well lived-in and filled with the barest necessities and tents. I saw other acolytes, some older and some battle-weary, stronger of mind than the ones who went mad. Spindrall was at the end of the cavern, kneeling before a tomb and garbed in a tattered robe. Like Harkun and the Sith purebloods I've run into so far, a red hue shrouded him like a cape, but his bore a hint of purple and less chaotic. I did not feel revulsion as I did the others, which made me frown a little.
He sensed me approaching long before I entered his quarters. "An alien, hm?" he mused as he stood up and turned to face me. He was old, wrinkled skin clinging to his skull with deep bags under his eyes and a thick beard wrapped around his jaw. "Surprising, but not unexpected. The Sith are not friendly to your kind, but it will be an advantage, I would think."
"Lord Spindrall," I greeted respectfully.
Spindrall's lips curled. "I am no lord, Miraluka. I'm simply a hermit that acolytes seek advice from, or a second chance if they proved unworthy. You are one of Harkun's acolytes, yes? Training to see who will become Lord Zash's apprentice? Here to learn the teachings of the Sith code?"
Something peered into my head, searching my thoughts for cracks and weaknesses. I fought back, pushing the invader as much as I could. I gritted my teeth, putting all my concentration into keeping them at bay.
"I've not met a Miraluka in many years, but you are perhaps the most sorry thing of their flesh I've met," Spindrall spat. "Still so weak of mind. There is talent there, an opportunity of raw, untapped potential, yet still you flounder." He paused and turned thoughtful. "And yet… There is an air about you, a feeling I've not felt in a long time. Perhaps you will not be a waste of time like the last one who came here."
The invader receded. I sagged with relief, but kept my defenses up in case the old man tried to break through my head again. I did not miss his mention of "the last one who came here". Was it Kory or another acolyte who came before me? Regardless, the old man's chilly words told me that I should expect to find a corpse when I returned to Harkun.
"Show me you're worth my time, Miraluka. Pass the trial of blood, and we'll see if you have what it takes to be Sith."
Spindrall turned away from me and returned to his meditation. I turned around and felt a wave of killing intent, anticipation, eagerness, and bloodlust fill the cavern as the acolytes training ceased their beatings of the dummies and turned to me, vibro-blades humming and ready to shed blood. There was no talking them out of this, I realized. Either I would end up dead on the floor or they'd be freshly-made corpses at my feet. Worse yet, I had a Sith watching and scrutinizing my every move and action.
"Peace is a lie," I muttered to myself. "Peace is a lie…"
"Yes," Spindrall murmured behind me, so faintly I almost didn't hear him. "It is."
As if given the green light, the acolytes fell upon me. There were only four, but their movements were practiced and trained. They struck with a wild frenzy, as if wanting to be the first to spill my blood.
I slid between them, evading them all and emerging from behind. The closest to me swung his vibro-blade, clashing with my own. I pushed back and knocked him away, letting the Force fill into my hand and explode outward in a burst. The acolyte was sent flying through the air and smacked into the wall. Another acolyte took this opportunity to trade blows with me. Although trained, his strikes were sloppy and had no rhyme or technique. There was desperation. I slammed my heel into his foot and followed up with a kick to the groin. Being a human, it had tremendous effect and gave me the opening needed to end him as quickly as possible. All it took was a swift stab through the heart. I felt him die in moments. I did not look him in the eyes, for I did not have the time to do so. An acolyte came up behind me, vibro-blade ready to cut me down where I stood. I yanked my own sword from its cold, fleshy sheathe, and spun around to block an incoming strike.
Compared to the one before, this acolyte was stronger. She leered at me, gold eyes brimming with sadistic bloodlust. The Force rumbled around her. I was too late to act and found myself thrown off my feet and slamming into the wall. Hitting solid rock was never a pleasant experience, especially when jagged portions dug and bit at your backside. I fell to the ground, wheezing, desperate to recouperate. The acolytes wouldn't let me as one charged at me with the intent to kill. They were practically scrambling over each other, wanting to be the one to kill me before all the others.
I gritted my teeth, and responded in kind. I called out to the Force, finding purchase on one of the training dummies. He did not see it coming and was pinned between the wall and the dummy, pushing it back with his own will. I slit his throat in the confusion.
Two dead. Two left.
The acolyte who sent me flying charged at me again, leaping into the air and bringing her vibro-blade down upon me with full force. Were I a lesser woman, I would have been forced to my knees. I held my ground, pushing back and throwing her off. I pulled at the discarded training dummy again and threw it at her. Unfortunately, the trick did not work twice. Her pull was far stronger and tore it from my grasp, tossing it aside. That was when I see it. Sparks dancing across her arms, accompanied by a familiar look. I smelled ozone amid the dust and blood.
"Shit!"
I threw myself to the side, just barely dodging the Force Lightning in time. The other acolyte seized the opportunity before him, ramming his foot into my face. I felt my nose bend and break, blood spewing across my lips and over his boot. He raised his foot. I rolled away, feeling his boot slam into the floor. Quickly, I scrambled back to my feet, barely raising my blade in time when he went for a strike. Ozone filled the air again and I heard the crackling of thunder. Through my "vision", I saw the acolyte from earlier about to shock me once more.
Rather than dodge, I pulled my strength back and let the acolyte overpower me, falling just far enough to put him in the line of fire. The Fore Lightning struck him dead on. I watched as his body was thrown to the floor and spasmed, spitting saliva and blood as the lightning tore away at his body. Although little more than a bolt of thunder, the force and power behind the attack was enough to fill the air with the disgusting and familiar scent of burnt flesh.
The last acolyte prepared for another blast of Force Lightning. I pulled at one of the dead acolyte's vibro-blades and willed it to my hand. I recalled my earliest lessons when I began my training. I recalled the worst moments of my life.
Cold metal. Trapped. Jeering taunts. Betrayal. Blood. Bugs everywhere. Shit. Filth. Disgusting. Nowhere to go. Can't breathe. Red hair. A black girl with a crossbow. Serial killers. Monsters.
Mom.
My veins bulged, the Force roaring around me. The acolyte froze, suddenly overcome with fear. She saw me not as prey, but as a threat. Lightning danced at her fingertips.
I was faster.
The Force Lightning flew past me, the sparks barely touching my cheek. Skin sizzled and burned ever so slightly. The pain was brief, but enough of a motivator to deliver the final strike. The first slash knocked the vibro-blade aside. The second threw her off balance. The third cut off her arm, sending a spray of blood flying through the air. I felt the Force ripple around her, a last ditch attempt to kill me. I did not give her the chance and swung both blades at once.
Silence fell upon the chamber. For a moment, everything was still as blood splattered across my face. Some managed to get into my mouth. I tasted rotten copper. The acolyte's head bounced at me feet, rolling to a stop. Her gold eyes were wide, stricken with fear. Her body collapsed, falling to its knees, and then to its side.
My body's shaking, adrenaline still fresh in my system. I stared at the bodies of the acolytes, wondering if any would get back up. Only one yet lived, straining to get back up and finish the fight. He was in no condition to fight, the Force Lightning having had a visceral effect. He was finished. He was no longer a threat.
Spindrall watched me carefully, his back still turned. He wanted to see what would happen, to know if I was worthy of becoming Sith.
The acolyte looked at me, eyes pleading. His lips moved, but no voice came out.
I held out a hand.
Snap.
"…most impressive."
The tension fades, but I do not let my guard down. Not for a second. I stowed my vibro-blades away and approached Spindrall warily, fully expecting him to kill me at a whim. He turned around, gold eyes full of mirth and curiosity. The disgust and disappointment is not entirely gone, but at the very least, he does not look at me as though I were a piece of trash.
"These acolytes were failures who barely escaped death through cunning and ambition," he said. "They wanted nothing more than a chance to prove they were worthy of becoming Sith, so much that they would happily kill you for a second chance. Their blood is your mantle of victory. It would seem you're not quite so naïve as I thought you'd be. No hesitation, and so full of anger." He squinted and studied me for a moment. His lips cracked ever so slightly, forming a thin smirk. "Most impressive, indeed. But do not think you are Sith just yet, Miraluka. Peace is a lie, there is only passion. Through passion, I gain strength…"
"Through strength, power. Through power, victory. Through victory, my chains are broken," I finished, the words familiar and far too repeated on my lips. "The Force shall set me free."
Spindrall seemed surprise, but only for a moment. I could have sworn I saw approval flash through his eyes. "Very good. It would seem you understand the Sith Code. Better than most, at least. But I wonder… Do you truly understand the full meaning of the code?" He does not give me a chance to answer, nor does he expect me to. "You have fulfilled your task here. Return to Harkun, and let your fear and hate for him fester. It shall be your strength. He may raise a fist toward you, but it is Lord Zash who determines where the blow will strike."
"But who controls Zash's, I wonder," I said wryly.
The old hermit's smile is full of teeth. This time, his approval is for real. "When you know the answer to that, you shall have control over
both your masters."
The journey back to Harkun's quarters is no less dangerous than the task of finding Spindrall. By the time I return, my robes are covered in blood and dust and my vibro-blades chipped and bloodied. Judging by the appearances of the other acolytes in Harkun's quarters, the others faired about as well as I did. Kory was still alive and well, though I could tell she was anxious. She shifted from heel to heel, unable to meet everyone's gaze. When she saw me enter, she looked equal parts thrilled and surprised.
Harkun, on the other hand…
"A shame. And here I thought you'd be little more than a corpse decorating the tombs…" I was tempted to do what Lisa did on occasion, mouth off something smart, but I bit my tongue and said nothing. Harkun could easily kill me if he wanted to. I couldn't afford to push my luck. He gave me a once over, before scanning the rest of those of us gathered in his quarters.
The moment his eyes landed on Kory, she froze. My mind sputtered as a familiar, dull pain echoed in the back of my head.
A crack of thunder. Screams echoing across the chamber. A dead body on the floor. Dead eyes look at me. I'm the last thing she sees as the life fades from her.
My hands balled into tight fists.
"Acolyte Kory… Step forward." The girl swallowed a lump in her throat, hesitantly stepping away from the group and presenting herself from Harkun. I saw the Pureblood Sith smiling unpleasantly, clearly looking forward by what was about to happen next. Harkun snarled at her, every word dripping with disgust and poison. "You're weak and pathetic, easily the most sorry thing among this lot. Even a lunatic like Spindrall can see this. Which means…"
I knew what was about to happen well before I felt the wave of death converging toward Kory. As I thought, she was going to die. She was too compassionate, too kind and caring. She was an example of what happened to anyone the Sith thought of as "too soft". Harkun was going to make an example of her, to show us that we were less than nothing and no more than trash. That our lives meant nothing.
Every single cell told me not to move. That I shouldn't do anything and let her die. If I intervened, I would die instead for being so "caring". I made it this far. I was so close to the finish line. I couldn't jeopardize my chances, not now.
And yet…
"Your mom would be proud, little owl."
My body moved before my brain could catch up to me. The Force rallied around me, forming into a barrier. It did little against Harkun's Force Lightning, crumbling and falling to pieces. A scream tore from my throat as I felt every single part of my body burn. This was not the first time I experienced what it was like to be subjected to such torture, but the pain from back then paled in comparison. Every second, every ounce of power, all of it was fueled by disdain and hate. Overwhelming, disgusting hate.
The lightning tapered off. I stumbled, breathing and gasping for air. My throat was soar and raw. I could barely hear my own pants over the sound of my heart beating rapidly against my chest. I should be dead, and yet somehow, I'm still alive.
I'm not sure what pissed off Harkun more, that or my act of defiance. His face turned a dark shade of red, surpassing the Pureblood Sith's skin in color. "What is the meaning of this, acolyte?!"
I wanted to know that myself. Why was I so stupid? Why did I save that girl? She was going to die no matter what I did, so what was the point? Why did I move? Why was I risking myself to prolong her execution?
Well, shit… I thought to myself.
In for a penny…
"I…" It hurt to speak. Just the act of talking made my throat burn in agony. "I wanted…to see…how your thunder compared…to the ones…in the tomb…" I laughed weakly, idly wondering if Lisa was rubbing off on me. "Have to say… I'm a little disappointed…"
I vaguely "see" the other acolytes staring at me in shock. Even the Pureblood Sith was surpised. Harkun just grew more and more pissed. I didn't stop talking.
"You talk about…how weak and pathetic…we are…" I rasped. "But you're wrong…" I raised my head. If I still had eyes, I would be staring him down and challenging him. Instead, I simply made my presence known and my feelings heard, conveyed through the Force. "If Darth Thanaton…became Sith…
so can we."
I was pushing my luck. Death was upon me any second now. Harkun was practically shaking with pure rage, hands twitching. The smell of ozone grew stronger by the second. I stood by ground, standing between him and Kory.
"…go to your dormitories," Harkun bit out. I was surprised he hadn't killed me then and there. "I expect you all to be here when I announce the next trial. And as for
you, slave…" Harkun spat in my direction. "The next time you pull this, I will see to it your corpse is displayed for everyone on Korriban to see! Acolyte Kory!" The girl squeaked, standing at attention. "Get out of my office! If I see you again, I will make sure you become no more than scraps for the beasts outside!"
"Y-yes, sir!"
Kory bowed her head to Harkun and moved to my side, pulling my arm over her shoulder. One of the acolytes went to help her, guiding me out of Harkun's quarters.
"I can't believe you did that," the acolyte hissed. "You're fucking crazy. The overseer's going to be gunning for you now. Do everything in his power to break you."
"I'm sorry," Kory apologized, tears cascading down her cheeks. I felt her remorse. She blamed herself for my state. I didn't understand why. "This is my fault. If I weren't so weak, I…"
"Just…" I gritted out. "Make yourself…useful… I didn't save…you on a…whim…"
"I-I understand. I swear, I'll repay this debt to you, Reyzl. I promise."
So, yeah, remember when I said my next work was not going to be Worm? I lied. Kind of. I do have another story in the works, but that won't be coming out until later.
This came about from a myriad of reasons. Legacy of the Sith, me playing SWTOR again after a year, and reading Dune, which I should point out to everyone I only vaguely knew of from the 19-something movie that came out years ago. The new movie made me want to read the book and I now own all the books written by Frank Herbert and two books written by his son. I've been wanting to write a post-GM fanfic for a while now, but I never quite figured out what I wanted it to be. I had some ideas, such as a Cyberpunk 2077 or Batman crossover, but those ideas didn't pan out or I just couldn't come up with something interesting.
Initially, this was going to be a Jedi!Taylor, more specifically one where Taylor either went Gray Jedi or was kicked out because she found the rules too restrictive and frequently argued with the masters and council before being picked up by the Empire's Wrath. In any case, we have a Sith Inquisitor Taylor. Don't ask me about shipping, because I don't have any plans for romance at the moment. As for why I picked the Sith Inquisitor storyline rather than, say, Imperial Agent or a Republic storyline, I think the Sith Inquisitor story parallels Taylor's starting journey quite a bit. Sith Inquisitor starts off a slave and becomes a Dark Council member, and Taylor starts off as a low-level "villain" and becomes a Brockton Bay warlord.
Not too sure about my characterization of Taylor at the moment. Am I portraying her right given the circumstances, or is she coming off a little too cold? Let me know what you guys think.
Also, I'd like to take a moment and shamelessly self-advertise my first-ever book, "Chase Ryder and the City of Lost Memories", which is available for pre-order for kindle and is available for purchase for hardback and paperback. Kindle version costs 8.99, hardback is 26.99 and paperback is 12.99. If you're curious, please consider giving my book a purchase and help support me. Any and all financial help in any form is appreciated! You can find the link to the book in my signature. For guests who do not have access to the signature, the link to my book can be found
here.
