Wayward - Doma Madon

In Character Character Biographies
#1

Entry Date: Month 10, Day 23
Subject: Journal, I
Location: Wildlands Bayside, Viscara

When I was removed from the Jedi Order, I was told that I was (among other things) power-seeking. When I heard this, these words were nothing but attacks made at me to cut me down for my failure, an expression of the disdain with which I was regarded by my former comrades. Today in my meditation, however, I managed to glimpse at the truth of myself, to see the reality of who I am. To see myself as they had, though their warnings fell upon deaf ears.

I abused their trust. I sought their lessons in pursuit of power, so I could shape the world around me. I wanted to spare myself the pain I feel, for myself and for the world around me. Who would not, for tragedy laces through every aspect of the galaxy, and there is no soul left untouched by it. I realize now how selfish this was, and how it unbalanced me. It is a burden a Jedi must carry with grace, and I failed to shoulder it well.

There is no comfort in this revelation, but now I can see the way I wounded myself and others in my misguided path. It is a shameful act, and I will seek the path to right these wrongs. But I will not do it to redeem myself; such a goal stems from vanity. Instead, I will dispense of my pride and, by cutting off its source, will leave my shame behind. I will right my wrongs because it is the right thing to do.

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#2

Entry Date: Month 11, Day 20
Subject: Journal, II
Location: Western Swamplands, Viscara

So much time wasted. I am sinking to the bottom of this endless abyss, dragged down by the lead bound to my feet by my own hands. Every moment carries further beyond the light’s reach - the words bubble up from my throat, but I have no voice to carry them.

I feel like I’m slipping away from the world around me. When I talk to people, sometimes I feel apart from myself. I have become repellent to those I care about. I crave connection, but though I see it glimmer, I lack the ability to reach out and take it. Something inside me is screaming out, screaming for change. But I cannot find the path. I have to wonder if I’m blind, or if this rot consuming me is where I belong.

I need somewhere to go, something to do. I need someone to be. So many times I have rediscovered just how hard it is to find my own way. I look back at my last writing and see what I wanted to be, but I’m walking in circles. Worse yet, I feel like it’s impossible to write earnestly to myself. I can’t escape the feeling of eyes watching me. I have no privacy. No shelter from scorn, because the scorn is my own. I cower at my own shadow, because it always looms over me like a black specter. I cannot show my weakness. But inside I am thrashing against the chains that bind me.

How can I free myself here? I yearn for the comfort of home. Though it is lost to another age, I will seek that solace in my mind, and pray it finds me again some day, for within its walls I am safe. In my dreams, I can be free.

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#3

Entry Date: Month 11, Day 21
Subject: Journal, III
Location: Western Swamplands, Viscara

I’ve been having a recurring dream lately.

I stand in the forests of Viscara in a clearing. The sky is swathed in a cool sheet of black, the many trees pockmarking the surface of the earth melding quietly into the distance. In the center lies the body of a man, his back to the earth, countenance facing the starless heavens. A dull glowing ember flickers over him.

His skin has become a lumpy, swollen hillside, green streaks of vasculature that lies beneath marbling the surface of his pallid flesh. His features are sunken, cheeks hollow, eyes shut. He makes no expression from his half-exposed skull as fire chars the socket where an eye once sat.

Blemishes mark him all over, made after his death no doubt. He has been stripped from his soldier’s attire, the trousers of his fatigues are torn. Purple splotches brushed over his naked torso where rocks and other objects struck. In the center of his chest, the word “PIG” has been crudely carved into his pectorals, outlined by a black ichor long crusted about the edges.

These injuries grafitti-ed on his body do not pierce the veil. The deaf man burns, expression placid as he withers into ash. I regret that I cannot hold his hand.

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#4

Entry Date: Month 12, Day 13
Subject: Journal, IV
Location: Veles, Viscara

In a way, it fits. In a fetid place, a hole under the earth where that which is unwanted is cast away to be forgotten.

Could it be here that I find regrowth? Like the mold and bacterial slimes caking the weathered stone of a sewer, will I germinate thence? The world above views the rot with contempt, disgusted by what is unpleasant to their senses. But it is an integral part of life, the withering of things into waste.

I will not deny the underbelly. I will not shy away from the unclean and the disheveled. All life is sacred, and in this time this life must be protected and cultivated, so that it too may flourish.

Not all that is gold glimmers.

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#5

Entry Date: Month 12, Day 15
Subject: Journal, V
Location: Wildlands, Viscara

“Not all that is gold glimmers.”

Oh, what a fool I was. In my delusion I dreamed up a world where I, too, could be beautiful. But all I managed to do is roll around in the filth. When will I learn to cast away my ambitions? These thoughts that swirl my mind, a castle in the sky wherein I might garb myself in silver, and merrily serve? There are no castles here. Only prisons, and sweatshops. Only corporate offices who pierce into the heavens and bleed the sky.

But despite this truth, I still dream. And these dreams are poison to my reasoning. A person whispers pleasantly in my ear, and I make believe I could do something good, as long as I make them proud. How stupid. How naive am I…

I feel like a monster hiding behind a mask. Sneaking into places people go, thinking I can deceive them, and be one of them a while. But no one is so blind. They catch my abhorrent stench, they see the beastly figure and recoil in revulsion.

I wish I could cut away all the parts that made me horrid. But if I did, there would be nothing left.

#6

Entry Date: Month 12, Day 26
Subject: Journal, VI
Location: (Location Redacted), Dathomir

“A Jedi’s life is sacrifice.”

But what does this really mean? In my mind, I did everything I was supposed to. I took a stand in the face of wrongdoing. I did not make effort to deceive, I stated clearly the infraction caused as well as the path to restoration. I offered clemency. I gave the chance for nonviolence to prevail. And even when the first blow was struck, I moved to disable, not to slay.

Why them am I still torn at their loss? A Jedi must sacrifice to carry out the will of the Force. But this… bloodshed, how can we ascribe it to Its will? The taking of a life, and I will never see it as anything else, is nothing but an abomination, a monstrosity born of mankind’s failure. I failed, last night. I failed to save the innocent and the guilty. I was not a hero, but an executioner, and that weight presses squarely on my shoulders, and mine alone.

But I have no right to indulge myself in wallowing. This path was laid before me but with my own two feet I took every step. My pain strikes me like a lashing torrent, the wails of the dead splitting my ears, their blood needling my skin in blistering raindrops.

I close my eyes. Breathe, count to five. Breathe out, count to seven.

I need to be better. I need to be a better swordsman, so my strikes can be more precise. I must strengthen my focus, so I can find the path in the din and chaos. I need to hone my words and command a presence, so when I walk the path, I can grasp the hands of the condemned and ferry them to salvation.

I need to be better.

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#7

Entry Date: Month 1, Day 26, Year 2
Subject: Journal, VII
Location: Jedi Temple, Viscara

I’m finally home. My landing was shaky, and it was not an elegant way to rejoin the Order, but I am back where I belong. I have been forbidden from advancing through the ranks. When I had first heard my fate, I cried, and even despaired, but I did not know why. I understand now - I was overwhelmed by the sensation that I could return to the place I had so desperately felt I needed. And now that I am here, these restrictions do not feel like restrictions. My limitation is, in reality, a lesson. One to teach me that what I should seek is not rank, but wisdom. And so I will spend my days searching for the wisdom I need.

I have much to thank Knight Jerr, and all the others who have taught me for. I am cognizant of the sacrifices they made to teach me now, and I will not squander it again. Now, I have faith in myself again.

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#8

Entry Date: Month 1, Day 16, Year 2
Subject: To Romero
Location: Jedi Temple, Viscara

Dear Romero,

It’s been some time since we have spoken. These months have been cold, I hope you’re keeping warm. I hope you’ve been getting enough to eat. I hope that you’ve been safe, and happy, and healthy since I last saw you.

When we were together, I could feel the resentment inside of you. The hurt you had, the one we shared. I feel your pain. But I have learned to let go of it. I hope you can learn to, too. Like many others, you are dear to me, no matter how wayward you and I might be. The tears I shed, they are for my love for you, you luminous being. You gentle soul hidden behind a scowl. You uncut gem, you airy spirit begging for release. I will pray that we might meet again, and I will pray that we can find you a path to happiness, beyond the pale fog and bring you into the light once again, so that your soul might shine brightly alongside all the others.

Until that day, I will pray for your safety and wellbeing.

Take care, my friend.

-Doma