Byllurun

The tension Mariah felt in the Senior Director's shoulders contrasted the serene, imperturbable tone of his words. The assumption she sought from him came sooner rather than later. He already had an inkling as to who she was, why she was here. He was like all the others -- cocky corporation influences and their airs of political confidence. Although irksome to deal with, his cooperation whispered an amusing thought in the back of her mind. She had only met Lord Bladeweaver today, and with a minor inconvenience such as this, a whole new opportunity could have been opened up to her. With the uttering of the code, her subtle, dark amusement to those thoughts surfaced with a faint, low chuckle. There was something menacing in the sound, but it was heard and silenced in a single beat. Both he and Ifrit were both lucky she had left those days behind her, no longer stalking around the galaxy for golden opportunities such as this. As much as she hated to admit to her current position, Ifrit had something she needed, so she would retrieve something that he, in turn, sought after. Nothing more; nothing less.

"You have time for a moment longer here," she whispered firmly in response to his urgent question. "If you prove to be a true ally, you have nothing to worry about. Everyone is expendable, including your CEO."

Her words were disconcerting, at best, and with it was that confirmation to his question regarding the CEO. Her hand loosened on Ammon's shoulder as the woman took a step back; however, the knife was held steady against his neck with her grasp within Force. All of his arrogance aside, he was a different breed than those she had previously dealt with. He had this power, solely in his hands, yet kept it contained while he continued to cooperate. With her right hand still extended to channel that steady hold of her blade, Mariah approached the painting on the wall.

"All of you are the same with these absurd hiding spots..."

Her hushed growl resounded as she summoned the painting from its place with her left hand. Next was the code, which would either prove to be the correct one, or a duress signal of some sort to alert the corporation of his unfortunate circumstance. Mariah continued to scan the Senior Director for any reason to doubt him, yet everything he exuded echoed his cooperation further. Her crimson stare narrowed upon the safe, and with a huff of an exhale, she entered in the code:

Four. Eight. Five. Nine.

The rapid succession of two beeps, followed by the clank of the chamber unlocking, resolved. Pulling the safe open, Mariah only drew her attention into the safe for a moment to find the datachip. Anything else within wasn't her concern in the slightest. Mariah pulled the datachip from its place and tucked it inside the pouch fastened to her belt. As quickly as she had opened it, she shut the safe and, with a wave of her left hand, returned the painting back to its original position on the wall, as though nothing at all had transpired.

"Tell me how and why a man like Master Bladeweaver becomes such a target of obsession," she inquired, keeping the man in her sights out of the corner of her eye. "Once you've humored me with this, we move forward. Time is of the essence, so be quick about it."

She was instructed only yesterday to seek out Ifrit and was so quickly thrust into this position. She would make the most of it before she would relinquish the advantage she had. Anything she could learn about this man she would soon learn under would be beneficial to her. As if to make it worth his while to answer, she twisted her right wrist just slightly, and with it, the Force flowed, guiding the blade away just enough to give the Senior Director a chance to breathe, to move, without falling victim to its edges against his throat. However, it still lingered close enough as a warning. She was not done with him, though. Not quite yet.

Ammon Steele's answer came, and with it also came slight annoyance from the woman who had snuck into his office. She had hoped to learn a thing or two about this man she would soon attempt to learn under, but instead, the answer which came was nothing new. Politics. Information. Power. The mention of the Republic, Galactic Alliance, First Order -- all of them pushed a rift between the woman and her once piqued interest in the information harbored. Of course, she could have guessed it would be something as simple as political leverage. To make matters even duller, the Senior Director had revealed nothing to lead her to believe that he was lying or hiding something.

"A boring answer," she stated harshly, "but it will suffice."

With a slight sigh, a growl almost, to mark her disappointment, Mariah summoned the blade away from the man's neck, sending the handle flying towards her gloved palm with quick precision. Affixing it back upon her belt, the crimson haired woman rounded Ammon's desk, until she stood face to face with him, with his desk offering the only space between her harsh and judging gaze upon him. Placing her palms upon his desk, she leaned forward, and her eyes locked with his in an unwavering crimson intensity.

"Master Bladeweaver seeks an audience with you within your future throne room," she instructed with venomous sarcasm to her chosen title. "You are to head there immediately, and you two can discuss how you'll move forward with your little scheme of things. However...” Her tone lowered to a whispered snarl, and her eyes narrowed upon him. "You'll speak a word of this... of me, this file, and this meeting to no one. If I find you straying even a hair from these clear orders, I'll tear you and this empire of SoroSuub to the ground without a second thought. Do I make myself clear?"

She didn't wait to hear his response, not like she gave him much of a choice. Half of her hoped he would try to challenge her, like all the others. Her warning, though, couldn't have been clearer for a man as smart as the Senior Director. While she had no stake in what happened to this file, her hands were now dirtied with this single mission. It also came with an impending warning as to her time spent under this Ifrit Bladeweaver and the political nonsense that followed him. No doubt, she would soon be dragged into these sorts of matters just in aligning herself with him. However, unlike others who wanted to play these manipulative shadow games, Mariah preferred to handle things with more open force. Information was only a useful tool for the living, after all.

As quickly as she rounded the desk to reveal herself to the Senior Director, Mariah departed back the same direction from where she arrived. Without another word to Ammon, the woman aligned herself with the opening she dropped in from, and with a upwards leap, she disappeared as suddenly as she had arrived. The sound of her clattering into it rumbled, followed by the gentle lift of the cover as it settled back into place. In a matter of moments, it was as though the woman hadn't been there at all. Just a figment of the man's imagination. However, she still lingered with him in her sights for just a second longer, to ensure that he followed her instructions to the letter.

The journey back to meet Ifrit and Nymph was as time consuming as arriving to the Senior Director's office. A labyrinth where one wrong turn could wind one up in a completely different sector of the building. However, the map was still ingrained in her mind, and the journey back was just a reversed mirror from before. Luckily for her, she hadn't a need to completely arrive back in the CEO's office, either. Ifrit's and Nymph's presences approached the turbolift above her; there wasn't a need for a briefing. Now able to move forward with their departure much sooner, Mariah climbed out from the floor and met them within.

At first, it was only silence among the three, something the crimson haired woman welcomed at this particular time. With this part of their mission complete, her mind had settled on only one final matter: making it to the exit. However, Ifrit's question broke the silence. Although she didn't offer him a glance of acknowledgement, she answered with as brief an explanation, to sate some of his curiosity and newfound attention for the time being.

"I seek a mentor with a particular set of skills. The Jen'ari directed me to you," she stated matter-of-factly. "We'll discuss it more once we've cleared out. No matter how well you dealt with the bodies, Ammon will need to report the deaths in a timely fashion to keep suspicion off himself. If they have any sort of security protocols in place, the building will no doubt fall into a procedural emergency lockdown in the matter of minutes and crawling with local authorities shortly thereafter." It was only then that she offered Ifrit a spare glance for a split second. "I'm sure you agree that we need to have left the building before then, seeing as you were one of the CEO's most recent appointments."

No matter Ifrit's response, Mariah's own could wait until they were out of the building. The turbolift was nearing the bottom floor, and she was quick to retrieve her cloak from Nymph, who had scooped it up with their departure from the CEO's office. She couldn't be left revealed to the public with several knives dangling from her left hip. She fastened it closed around her just as the whoosh of the doors opened and welcomed them to the first floor, the large lobby bustling with clients and employees alike. The crimson haired woman was quick to slide out of the lift and place some distance between herself and the other two. There was one other thing she needed to deal with before they left, and time was truly of the essence now...

"My business here is concluded," Mariah called out to one of the guards, smoothing over the usual harshness that lingered in her tones. She spun into their view and extended her hand from under her cloak. “You have my gratitude for not turning me away at the door and watching over my weapon for me instead.”

"You were a little longer than you made it seem." Despite his grumbling statement, he at least recognized her immediately and offered back that silvery cylinder she sought.

The other chimed in, "You know we don't usually do that for anyone."

Mariah could hear the tone in the other's voice. Expectant of something additional for their troubles. With Ifrit and Nymph approaching, she hadn't the time to challenge them in the way she wished and drew the saber under her cloak to reaffix it to her belt. Instead, Mariah tilted her head, feigning a curious express, and made her attempts at a disarming smile. "Yes, but now you can know that you've set a shining example by pleasing a client and doing a job well done as SoroSuub's first line of protection."

That false smile was short lived, and Mariah offered only a nod as a silent farewell before she turned away. They were already cutting it close before the news of the CEO's sudden murder would break free throughout the building. With Ifrit and Nymph hopefully close on her heels, Mariah turned and exited the building without another second to spare. The moment the dim environment of the underground city shadowed over her, she raised the hood of her cloaks and continued her journey onto the streets. However now, she slowed her pace just enough to give Ifrit and Nymph time to catch up. There would be much to discuss between the three of them, yet only once this damned building was out of her sights.

In any other circumstance, Mariah would have asked the questions that burned in her mind as the three began their escape from the city. She could feel the Force warping around her, like something in the air shifted, just before she made her escape from SoroSuub. The airspeeder, an uncommon luxury, was yet another. An unpreferred method of travel, but one Mariah couldn't dispute at this present point in time. She was the one, after all, who made the point that time wasn't on their side. Last, there was the matter of the estate nestled in the outer limits. Mariah said not a word as she unloaded herself off the airspeeder. Her harsh crimson gaze studied the outside of the safehouse as she followed Ifrit towards the transparisteel doors, while also making note of the shield, the acreage, and the layout of these new surroundings. It was as though the woman was constantly updating her mental map, similar to the calculative stare of the holomap within the CEO's office.

Through the doors and into the study, Mariah's gaze continued to dance around. More notes of every little detail she could take in before her attention would be pulled away to the conversation she sought to have. However, when she was directed to take a seat and relax, she only removed her cloak from around her, laying it over the back of the chair, and shifted her footing to balance her weight evenly between her feet. Ifrit had already settled himself into his own chair, but it seemed that this was as relaxed as the crimson haired woman was going to get for the time being.

"First things first," she murmured.

Mariah reached into the pouch on her belt and revealed the datachip she had been holding onto up until this moment. With an underhand toss, she relinquished herself from the duty from that mission, handing over that single item he sought. Thus, her only tie to the whole ordeal was now severed.

"Understand I've ran hefty prices for this sort of work in the past. Whatever is on that file better have been worth the effort."

With a sigh to settle her thoughts to the true discussion that needed to be had, Mariah crossed her arms over her chest. The thought to be formally mentored again created a dissonance in the woman's mind. If she had had any lingering doubts at this point, hearing that word from him very well would have turned her away. However, she was here on a mission of her own, and she wasn't the type to back down, not when she was already this far deep.

"All I seek is to learn in the arts of Sith alchemy and magic. Over the past many years, I've attempted to do so on my own accord with informal training, yet nothing has come to fruition. That's why I sought out the Blackguard and why I stand before you now."

It was as clear cut an answer as she could give, removing all of the other unimportant details from the mix, at least for the time being. The destruction of the Felucian Jedi Base, sparking this whole event. Her already developed skills, some of which she had already revealed. It all boiled down to her hunger to learn something else, her unfortunately inability to do so on her own, and the desperate outcome she found herself in today.

"So the question is... will you force me to train under one of the damned Sith, or will you take up the mantle?"

Mariah revealed nothing in her expression as she watched Ifrit stand from his seat, wander throughout his study, motion to the plethora of books which dwelled on the shelves, and went on with an explanation to ensure she knew what she had achieved for him with the retrieval of that drive. He had mentioned the secrets which abounded in this study as well as in the drive, yet even then, her expression remained dulled, perhaps even uninterested in the many things she could gain from searching its depths. Perhaps that was all Ifrit really needed to understand as to why her past attempts had failed. At just a first a glance and a few minutes of her time, it was clear to see that the power of the word, the power of knowledge, and the power of secrets had no sway over this woman who would kill another without a breath of hesitation. She was a warrior, not a spellbinder, which perhaps made this request for training all that much more concerning. But perhaps intriguing all the same, to one who had the interest.

When Ifrit pushed the datachip back into her hand, her crimson eyes at least attempted to lock with his. For one who used the Force for sight, he may have still felt her her burning stare. Nonetheless, she was not one who took kindly to being handled, even if to her benefit, as she had already shown him once when he healed her of her ailment. She returned his advance with a knife to his ribs, or at least an attempt. With the file in her hand, that item he coveted which she retrieved, she gripped it tight before snapping her wrist out of his grasp. He may have seen mentoring her as repayment for her work at SoroSuub; Mariah still saw this drive as repayment for such a kind act, however foolish. She was his blade until they walked out of that building as an act of repayment. No more, no less. If he so easily wanted to relinquish the one item he sought, then he truly was the fool she thought him to be.

"As I said earlier, it was the Jen'ari who sent me to you," she answered. Mariah turned her body to face one of the many bookshelves within the room; however, she still had Ifrit caught in the corner of her vision. "I know that you call yourself a Dark Jedi. After the Jen'ari tried to see me killed, I made my distaste in offering my blade to the Sith very clear, which is why he sent me to you for further training."

The reason for her wound. She had made mention of it and moved forward in her explanation so effortlessly. To her, that event wasn't exactly anything remarkable, even if it did remind her exactly why she felt so strongly about the Sith. His curiosity to how she knew him seemed a bit exaggerated for the only simple answer she had, but that wasn't her concern.

Shifting her gaze from Ifrit to finally look upon the many books, Mariah continued to fidget and spin the datachip in the palm of her hand. Keep it. Examine it. Sate her curiosity. True, she had sought to learn what the Senior Director knew, using her mission to lace an ulterior motive within that could benefit her. She wasn't thrilled about the idea of falling into an apprenticeship under someone she knew only two things about: his name and his affiliation. It wasn't exactly disappointing when she found out nothing, however. Only disappointing that it was that same song and tune of political leverage she had heard over and over again during the decades of her life. Either way, it proved to her that the Senior Director knew nothing, hid nothing, and was as loyal as Ifrit was hoping he would be. The success of her mission was all that truly mattered.

"If you'll hide no secrets from me, then whatever I could possibly find on this is a redundancy."

Either what she had in mind for this drive would prove to be a foolish act of her own, or it would work to extend a certain lesson regarding a spark of trust, which she had only recently been forced to learn. She held out the file in the palm of her hand as she faced Ifrit again. Crimson eyes locked back onto the blindfold, finding where his eyes would be. It was almost a challenging stare, if it wasn't for the act that followed. A crunch sounded from the datachip in Mariah's hand, and she didn't stop applying such a crushing pressure around it until it had broken down to well under a fourth of its original size. As if to finalize its destruction, she sent a final, screaming force at its core, the pieces flying in shattered shards all around like the final breath of a dying star. The resolving sound of a hundred small clatters around the room prompted Mariah to continue, her tone steady as if she had done nothing at all.

"I hope you weren't expecting it back."

Malvus. It was a name foreign to her, as the man had only mentioned himself only as the Jen'ari. Although Mariah revealed nothing about the surge in her interest with the new information, it was still something worthy of note. A Sith title, perhaps, but also the closest thing to a name she could grasp onto. Now, the name of the man who issued that challenge on her life could linger in recesses of her mind until that challenge had been wholly met...

However, this realization was but a fleeting one. Ifrit seemed to pay no interest in the destruction of the drive, although he at least made note of her more pragmatic response to its existence. Regardless of what his thoughts were, there were more reasons to favor her choice, at least on the surface, than there were to let the datachip remain. Should there have been anything deeper he had intended her to learn, Mariah would learn such things in time. That is, if this being who paced around the study had put any sort of truth to his earlier words. The way he spoke about the Sith, the differences between them and him, the obedience, servitude, and false promises -- the way he spoke about all of these things, she had no reason to doubt him and couldn't help but keep her crimson eyes trained upon him.

"Then you and I will get along just fine."

Mariah's murmured words came quietly and somewhat mumbled. Originally, she hadn't a care who taught her, as long as she learned and progressed. She had fully braced herself for the attempts into submission, to be looked down upon by those well-versed in this new venture, or worse, to be coddled like a pathetic youngling, all of which were experiences she had known over the years. It was dreaded master-apprentice dynamic she believed was inevitable. It was like a breath of fresh air, and Ifrit's words confirmed that Malvus' recommendation was a correct path to follow, that she train under one who was not brainwashed by the Sith's ideology.

Expelling a breath, Mariah settled herself onto the floor. She was well aware of the chair and Ifrit's earlier offer, but instead, the woman positioned herself, kneeling and sitting upon her feet. She was already a dramatically small woman, especially when standing next to a man of Ifrit's stature. That difference was only heightened, yet she seemed to pay it no mind. Instead, Mariah reached for the pendant which dangled from around her neck, and yanking the golden chain, broke the ring free from its resting place.

"I understand," she answered, tilting her gaze back up towards Ifrit. "Let us start with this." With the ring positioned in the center of her palm, she offered it up to him for further inspection, if he so desired. "You managed to set free one of the spells within, something I have been unable to accomplish for nearly two decades."

Mariah wasn't the type to waste time. They had only just returned, only just established this partnership. However, she could feel his curiosity swirling within him, even if he didn't directly ask. She had known that an explanation was desired then, and while not necessarily due now, it was one of the many branches from her founding reason, which brought her before him today.

"Ask any questions you might have, and I shall answer with what I know. Should you keep no secrets from me, I shall extend that same honor to you." In matters like these, the offer carried a heavier weight than the crimson haired woman let on. With a narrowed gaze and twitch of a wry smile at the edges of her lips, Mariah clarified, "I do expect that back, though."

In a long pause of silence while Ifrit inspected the ring, Mariah simply watched him. Her crimson eyes seemed as though they were in a perpetual state of a sharp, critical stare, although as he continued his explanation and judgment over the item, something about its intensity lessened. Even after his questions regarding the ring, there was a drawn out pause, as though the woman mulled about with a proper answer to those questions. With a final sigh to herald an adequate answer, Mariah began with the first question regarding its origin.

"I know not if it's considered a family heirloom. It belonged to a man of the Sorrows, who gave it to my sister when he asked for her hand in marriage. As she is no longer living, it has fallen into my care."

The crimson haired woman clenched her hand around the ring. There were few things that could stir emotions within the woman before him, two of which were being drawn to the surface together at once. Her sister... and being faced with the fact that there was an aspect in which she was not powerful. In her mind, it translated to weakness -- a world of black and white. At least it was something she was here to amend, as Ifrit had pointed out his willing hand to aid her with. Nonetheless, the next question was the trickier one. She inhaled deep, allowing her another few beats of silence before she would continue.

"I will not bore you with certain details, but my sister imbued it with those magicks for me until the day that I may rid myself of it. As you are already aware, one of which is a healing spell. Although I have been unable to release the spell as you did, I've found that it works passively without a need for an incantation. Wounds that would taken weeks to heal have done so in the matter of a few days, as an example..."

Mariah lowered her gaze from Ifrit as she turned her attention to putting the ring within the pouch, which rested upon her hip.

"There are two other spells," she continued, "but only one is of any real importance to me. A Spell of Concealment is also locked away within, like some sort of test she found amusement in seeing me attempt to complete. In my earlier years, it would have been a great aid to me... and her son... but it seemed as though that wasn't her goal."

With a roll of her eyes and a slight shake of her head, Mariah exhaled a quiet sigh before she looked back up at Ifrit. It was but another pause, for her to read his reaction to the information, before pressing forward to touch on the final piece of information.

"Last, there is some strange spell that's supposed to help me locate someone for her. It serves no other purpose than that and is unimportant to our work here." Her eyes narrowed upon Ifrit and again sharpened to pierce into his with a sudden shift. "If you can lend me guidance to fulfilling the true strength of the two, however, it will be a first step in understanding the gifts she left me. Unless you recommend that we start smaller...?"

The question came with a slight, wry half-smile. It was true that her sister was far more powerful than she could ever dream of becoming, at least when it came to matters such as these, but it was also a fact that she felt some pride in. Ifrit had already made mention of complexities he could sense when examining it. Nonetheless, Mariah knew that, in the terms of her own strengths, she would have never been able to fully implement the more advance techniques of Ataru or Djem So if she didn't first start with the basics. Naturally, she was sure that it was the same in the realm of magicks, although she left that call wholly up to those master spellbinders who knew better than she.

Naturally, Ifrit confirmed her suspicion with her training. Although she had no desire to go through the same repetitive drills, studies, and exercises she remembered as a young child learning blade wielding, such things couldn't be helped. With the spellbinder's question, Mariah raked her fingers against her thighs as her gaze grew distant. What had she managed to achieve thus far? A question that brought her to bite down on her bottom lip as she stewed in silence for a moment. There were countless of times where she had butchered incantations, even dangerous rituals that should have had dire consequences to her health.

With a sigh, Mariah snapped back to the present, her gaze lowering as she lifted up the closed fist of her left hand. There was but one spell that came to mind as an immediate demonstration. It was a quickly uttered hiss of an incantation, but with it, a flame breathed to life within her fist, the flames licking up over her hand as though it was her very skin that fed the fire. Yet the flame did nothing to her, and the woman revealed no pain or discomfort in being its host.

"Nothing worthy of note," she answered pointedly, her gaze locked upon the dancing flames that climbed up to her wrist. "Seeing as she was my only source of inspiration up until this point, I've only practiced some of my sister's favored arts, but mine are mere parlor tricks in comparison. She didn't even need to utter anything for this particular one..." Her gaze then shifted back to Ifrit as she uttered a warning. "...yet I've burned down a surprising number of buildings just to get this far."

Mariah opened up her fist to an open palm, and with a wave of her hand, the flame easily and quickly died off, flickering away with a trail of deep purple sparks. This was only scratching the surface, but for now, it would suffice. In time, he would learn just how vast her knowledge was; however, it was her ability to demonstrate that knowledge that was severely lacking. This realm of the Force wasn't meant for her to learn. Perhaps there was a way she would learn to break those bonds under his guidance. Should he be successful in aiding her in this quest, she deemed that it would be only then would he would learn the depths of her mind. At the very least, though, she had offered full disclosure and answers to his questions, and thus, she would grant him a superficial understanding now, even if it caused her discomfort to simply mention the traditions of her people.

"There are also a number of rituals I was taught which demand a heightened attunement to the Force and Its magicks, and I have easy enough access to finding additional sources of information within tomes and holocrons scattered across the galaxy. Some may contain the formulas to cast basic spells you have here within your study... Others, though, I serious doubt even you would know."

As trained as ever, her focus then shifted back up to Ifrit as she lowered her hand to rest next to the other on her thigh once more. On the surface, her harsh words might have felt like an assault on his knowledge, but there was something in the way her eyes had locked upon him now, the hesitant aura that quietly seeped its way past her otherwise stern and cold nature. Hoping to push past that piece of information she had relinquished, though, Mariah pushed onward, sharpening her tones even more so than before.

"However, most of such rituals I've conducted alone have either failed or ended in some terrible fashion or another. One day, I might humor you with the details of those tales. For now, though, this is all I have to account for with my 'training', so I would suggest that we start at the very beginning… for all our sakes."

Ifrit's grin didn't go unnoticed as Mariah extinguished the spell from her hand. Her crimson orbs watched him intently, carefully, even more so now with his apparent interest in her. Truth be told, she had hoped to appeal in some manner to him. As much as she refused to admit it, she was in dire need of a mentor to these arts. To find one in this galaxy who would look upon her with intrigue instead of disgust -- or even fear, in some way -- was rare. She had killed mercilessly in the corporate building and revealed her skills as a not-so-common thief, yet fear didn't seem lurk anywhere about his aura. However, instead of looking upon such as a boon, Mariah felt the opposite.

Her jaw shifted as she contemplated whether or not she had revealed too much, too soon. That was a fleeting thought, as the reality sunk in. She couldn't take back those enticing words of hidden, unknown spells and rituals, and she had given her word that she would hide little to nothing from her new instructor. For now, Ifrit presented a tome to her, something to shift her thoughts and pour her time into. As Ifrit gave her all the warnings regarding the path they were about the embark down upon, Mariah flipped through the pages, handling each delicately and with care, as though the material might turn to dust within her very fingertips. Although she seemed engrossed in the contents within, when Ifrit finished, her gaze lifted from the pages to meet him once again.

"The darkness was something I was raised in," she murmured without missing a beat, as though each one of his words still managed to sink in despite her otherwise distracted nature towards the tome. "I was taught to revere the Dark Side. Not attempt to control it, manipulate it, and thus become enslaved to it, like the Sith seek to do. A difficult task for most, but when it's the only life you've known..."

With a half shrug of her shoulder, Mariah let her words trail off and turned her attention back to the tome as she found a particular spell that caught her attention. A healing spell. Something she hoped to achieve, to unlock one of the enchantments within the ring. Leaving the tome on that page, the crimson haired woman set it beside her, now fully directing her attention towards Ifrit to further address his concerns.

"There is nothing important to me in this life, Master Bladeweaver." There was neither sorrow nor remorse in her tones, nor in her hardened expression. It was a simple fact, an explanation before they would continue on with her studies. "I simply wish to walk this path on behalf of those who came before me, to keep the spirit of my people alive. Nothing more. Nothing less."