Yes, she signs. A shock.

    Ma'am, would you like some privacy?

- yes.

DZ takes Ilek's hand on her way out of the room, to lead him out as well.

-Alright, Ilek will follow DZ out into the hall. And then motion at his own door, tilting his head questioningly. Best they not stand out here where anyone might notice them loitering in the hall outside her and Deskyl's door. 

How may I help? Stormsinger asks, still sending reassurance-concern-love-apology. 

"If you'd like, sir," DZ whispers. "I'm not sure how long she'll be."

I don't know. I - she puts her hand to her chest again, pressing, sensing, seeing where the new organ interacts with the rest of her body, is part of her, unexpected but not foreign. She doesn't like it, but it's like... not liking her hand, not liking her face.

She could cut off her hand, if she wanted to, the thought comes, all on its own. It's not appealing, but it's not impossible; in fact there's a very visceral sense of it as something she could do, a form that her mastery of her own body takes, and the thought calms her. She looks to confirm that her mana pool isn't interacting with anything else, that removing it won't harm her, but she barely needs to, now that she's thought of the possibility; she does have a choice, and that's all she really needs. I'm okay, she sends. I'm okay.

(She's not, really. Her hands are shaking, and she feels too cold and too keyed up, both at the same time. But she can feel it now, which she couldn't a moment ago, and that itself is a good sign, she knows.)

This train of thought is a little bit alarming, but. Yes, she is not okay right now, but she is okay enough to become entirely so with time. He will keep offering her his support, rather than any coherent thoughts. 

Ilek leads her into his own room, then. It's just as plain and inn-like as Deskyl's and Jaim's, made different only by some paperwork on the desk, a pair of matched blades hanging off a bedpost by their scabbards, a string instrument settled on top of the dresser, and his own set of armour, red and gold instead of Jaim's blue, on a stand in the corner. It looks mostly unworn.

She follows him in, pausing by the door. "Can you tell me anything about what this might mean, sir?" she asks, when he doesn't immediately speak.

He frowns, thinking. "I don't know a lot about mana theory," he begins, "So I really can't say how it happened. Something about the mana in the environment, maybe? I know we can recover some through eating, though it's so little that meditating is a better use of the time. If she's developed a core... she'll be able to use our magic, be sensed by it, bond with Artefacts, use enchanted objects."

"Yes sir. Does that imply anything for her?"

"Not really, no. We don't conscript Artefact Wielders - Sanctuary wouldn't put up with that if we tried. She doesn't even have to do anything with it if she doesn't want to, a lot of people learn a few utility spells and stop there." 

"That's not really what I meant, sir. Does having a core have any tactical or strategic relevance?"

"Right, sorry. Hm. There's wards that use the presence of a core to determine whether there's anyone there - she won't be able to go through those without breaking them or supressing her mana. Same as active and passive sensing by other people - they might have missed her before, or disregarded her, because of the lack of mana." 

"Yes sir. What does suppressing mana do?"

"Hides it from passive senses and most wards. Basically, we radiate a bit of mana automatically, that's how we sense passively. It takes focus to stop doing it, and then you can't sense passively but no one can sense you that way either. It's very difficult to cast like that, though, and active senses can still catch you - if someone touches you with a thread or a sensing spell." 

"Yes sir. Who should she talk to about learning how to do that?"

"I can do it, but I'm not great at it. I can teach the theory, though. Jaim is good at it, and all of his elites are at least good enough to hide from him when he's not paying much attention, if she wants a better example." 

"I'll tell her, sir. I think that's all for now."

"Okay." He looks around, eyes eventually lighting on his desk, "Oh right," he steps over to it, reaching out to pull a book from the shelf above the workspace. 

"I said I'd get you an Imperial dictionary, right?" He offers it to her. 

"Thank you, sir. I'll be in the scribing office." She takes it and goes.

And Deskyl settles in to meditate, soothing away the physical reaction to the fear first. I should go through my whole sequence before too long, she sends, when her heart rate has returned to normal and she doesn't feel like dashing off into the night in a panic. It's not much less intense than that was, though, you might not want to be here for it.

Subdued curiosity, Would I be a distraction? 

Not in a way that would bother me. But you might not like it.

The most powerful ways Sith use the Force depend on strong emotions - the kind that can be overwhelming. The better we are at bringing up those emotions, and at keeping our heads through them, the stronger we are. So we practice. And darker emotions are easier to maintain in battle, so we practice those in particular.

We might have a lot to talk about, the first time. First few, even. It's easiest to bring up emotions by remembering real things.

...Would my anger at events which took place in your memories make this more difficult? 

Well, if it does, better here than in a real fight. It'll be fine.