Private Of The Abyss (Revna)

[Darth Carnifex]

They were called the Black Cells.

Metaphorically and literally, they symbolized the darkest reaches one could ever be subjected to. The very walls of the prison were made from metal blackened to the point where no light could reflect off of it's surface. One could not tell where the walls ended and the ceiling and floors began. Prisoners were thrown into these darkened cells, made to suffer a seemingly endless nothingness. They would find that no matter how far they moved they could never reach the walls, even though they knew the room was not that large when they had been thrown in.

Time would not obey them either, for in their perception years stretched on in complete darkness while only hours passed beyond the walls of their prison. In such total isolation, the mind often succumbed to madness. When a mind was broken in such a way, it could be sifted through and dissected without the redoubts of mental defenses. Those that were discarded to the Black Cells emerged broken people, their minds shattered by the infinity of shadows. And when their gaolers had their fill, they were discarded.

She had only been within a Black Cell for a few hours at most, but in her mind it had been years. Hunger clawed at her belly, thirst strangled her throat, but she did not die. Her body did not wither, she did not age. Her hair never grew, she felt no other bodily compulsion other than an intense hunger and thirst. When they came for her again, the light from the exterior corridor was as blinding as the brightest star. They dragged her from the cell and out into the wider complex, passing by great temples to pain and suffering inflicted upon the enemies of her captors. Today, she would be spared the worst of it.

Where they left her, she could not know -- only that it was a room smothered in smoke and shadow. Her bindings had been removed, the metal having dug into the skin of her wrists and ankles during her captivity. She was left to linger in her misery for a time, before she could sense another in her midst. This was a different shadow than the one she endured in the cell, it was far more potent.

Worst of all, it was a living darkness.

She would only see His outline initially, a smudge against the indistinct smoke that bordered her perception. But, in an instant, it all bled away into normality. She found herself in a plain gray room, no larger than a modest living quarter, but still not alone. He was there with her, His towering presence casting a dire gloom over her. She knew His name, she knew His face, but that knowledge imparted onto her by her master and her comrades paled in comparison to being near Him. He radiated a malice so acute that her skin reacted with phantom sensations, as though it were crawling atop her muscles. An unnatural chill crept up her spine, her every instinct struggling between fight or flight, like she were left naked and unarmed before a great and terrible beast; one that would tear her to ribbons in a heartbeat.

"They call you Revna Sharr, do they not?" His voice was like the death-throes of a primordial world, the glacial annihilation of whole continents as tectonics shifted and collapsed in on one another. She would know in an instant that this was the voice of a being who had ordered the death of trillions, the bane of all life. There was no warmth, no solace to be found in familiar tones, only the harsh bite of each syllable as they crept through her inner ear. To hearken to Him was to hearken to obliteration, to keenly know the articulation of cruelty made manifest.

To gaze upon Him was to court the inevitability of an event horizon, to know certain death was imminent and unavoidable. Every inch was cut the image of a conqueror, a butcher, a tyrant. His shoulders were broad, body sculpted for war. A plain tunic of black cloth hung down across His torso, the edges embroidered with phrases of Sith scripture in the blasphemous tongue of ur-Kittât. He bore no weapon, for He did not require one. He could kill her a word if He wanted to, every action potentially lethal.

All of His being demanded submission, and her own body fought to obey that sensation; as though to not commit yourself to His will was wrong and grotesque.

"Your master makes very large waves for a creature so small, Revna Sharr. I want to hear your thoughts on his recent actions." Though she felt no compulsion through the Force, it was as if His very voice compelled her to do as He asked. "For the sins of the master are often laid upon the brow of the apprentice, are they not?"

Revna ​

 

[Revna]

Darth Carnifex


Revna was no stranger to darkness.

But nothing quite prepared her to face the abyssal depths of the cell she had been brought to after the savaging she’d received at the hand of one of the Kainite Dark Lords. How she survived…she wasn’t really sure. He had brought her to the very brink of death, but had allowed her to live. And when he had gotten what he wanted from her, she had been brought here and shackled down.

The darkness that surrounded her seemed…eternal. In fact, time seemed to not exist in this place at all, and it wore Revna’s mental defenses down little by little. She hoped that her Master, her cousin Malum…everyone she ever cared about…would come for her. Would break her free or demand her back.

But the longer she remained in the darkness of her cell, the more she began to believe that she’d been abandoned by those she’d given her life, her service, to. The pain that came with that belief was almost too much to bear, and her mind fractured slowly as hopelessness threatened to drown her completely.

She wasn’t aware that only a short time had passed while she’d been in the cell; to her, it had been days which had turned to weeks, then months…then years. It was enough to break anyone who was weaker, who might have been lesser. And though she did crack, she did not break completely. For even in the midst of her languishing, she began to notice that something wasn’t quite…right.

If she had been locked away for years, with no visitation…she would have died long ago from the hunger and thirst she felt.

There was no guarantee how long she would remain in this blackened space, but she needed to find a way to preserve her sanity. So to pass the time, and give herself a way of keeping time, she began to count her breaths. It took all of her discipline to keep it going forward, but Revna was - if anything - persistent and stubborn.

She noticed, as she focused on her breaths, the slight wheeze and crackle within her lungs. It seemed that the Dark side fire leveled against her had done enough damage that even healing couldn’t repair all of it. It made breathing…a bit labored, as if there was some fluid within the organs themselves. Something to adjust to…for however long she remained alive.

Young Revna was torn between a desire for life, and a longing for death. She wanted to live, to rise and prove herself strong enough to withstand this nightmare, to withstand the testing and trials her enemies put her through. But she also wanted the peace and silence that surely would come with passing on. She didn’t expect to live long in Kainite custody anyway, and so she accepted the fact that she might very well be executed at some point in the future. For why would the Kainites keep an enemy of theirs alive after they had taken all they wanted from such an individual?

But if she truly wanted to live…then she needed to figure out a plan, a way, to survive. And that meant doing things she utterly despised thinking about, let alone doing. She was at risk of losing it all…so what was she willing to sacrifice to keep a hold of her very life?

Bright light flooded the darkness, and Revna stopped counting her breaths. She remained still and quiet as figures approached her, removed her shackles, and hauled her from her cell. She went with them willingly, her somewhat dull eyes taking in her surroundings as they moved her along without compassion to her pains.

She wondered where she was being taken, and her mind pondered if she was being marched to her death. She accepted the possibility, and allowed a numbness to settle over her mind. She only hoped she would be allowed to die fighting.

Instead, she was forced into yet another chamber, filled with darkness that seemed almost palpable. The smog and smoke within agitated her already limited lungs, and breathing became an effort. But her new situation confirmed her suspicions: she hadn’t been trapped for years. She still felt hunger and thirst; and she still felt pain. It helped ease her tortured mind, and gave her a spark of hope.

Hope that she just might see the others again…her Master who was now like a father to her; her cousin Malum, her close and dear friend Zachariah…and even the wintry but beautiful woman that was the Empress. She had to survive…if only to see them again. Even if they hated her after all of this.

Revna existed in the shadowy room for some time, pondering what fate may be in store for her beyond this point. She was lost to her thoughts, until she sensed the arrival of another into the darkened space with her. Its presence made every nerve stand on edge, and dread prickled across her flesh as she felt the immense and raw dark power that filled the room. Her eyes spotted a darker shadow within the smoke, and she pinned it with a glare.

A blink of an eye later, the shadows within the room fled, and Revna was left to stare down the figure who had appeared in the chamber with her.

Darth Carnifex, in the flesh.

And he was far closer to her than she ever wanted him to be.

Many things washed over the small woman at that moment. Immediate sense of danger to her life, fear, anger, uncertainty…and a bitter hatred. It was all tempered by the feeling that she was prey here. Revna was acutely aware that she only existed and continued to draw breath in that moment, only because he wished her to. This was a Dark Lord of immense strength and power that she could hardly comprehend as a mere apprentice to the ways of the Dark side. Extreme caution had to be played if she wished to live beyond this point.

Her golden-orange eyes, glinting with the corruption of the Dark, narrowed slightly as she beheld the tyrant in all his infernal glory. She knew that he would not lower himself to be in her presence for just any reason; no - he wanted something from her.

When Darth Carnifex spoke, his voice rolled out like thunder to fill the space around them. He seemed to ask for confirmation of her name. Revna Sharr…a phony last name that hid the truth of who she really was. Did he not know that she was a Marr by blood? Truthfully, it may not have mattered to the tyrant Butcher before her…but she would operate under the belief that he didn’t know, and keep her connections to her family House to herself if at all possible.

But now she was faced with a new and different problem: the fires that had ravaged her had taken away her capability to talk aloud. She didn’t know if she would be able to speak to him telepathically, but it was worth a try. So she projected her mental voice through the Force, aimed at him like a spear, and hoped he would hear her.

-Yes, I am Revna Sharr.-

She neglected using any formal titles or respect or address for him - almost not caring if it brought consequences down upon her own head. Carnifex’s very presence demanded submission and compliance from weaker Sith, those too gutless to hold their ground and though Revna was afraid, she was no coward in the face of death and supremacy. Despite her instincts telling her to cower away and be deferential, she remained unmoving in defiance of his presence of authority and will.

Carnifex spoke again, and she listened as he commented on the actions her Master had taken over the course of time, more recent actions…though these had taken place months prior to her capture, perhaps even longer. The Dark Lord wanted to hear her thoughts on Darth Strosius’s actions. She tilted her head ever so slightly to the left as she regarded him in silence for a few moments. Internally, she smiled. The blackened cell she’d been bound in had been designed to break the minds and wills of those within. It had almost succeeded in breaking her too…but she had endured, if only barely.

But perhaps…she could use this to her advantage, and deceive the one before her into thinking that she had broken. Could she get away with it?

-His recent actions?- she scoffed through the telepathic voice. -My thoughts on his actions do not matter anymore, as I simply do not know what has transpired in the length of time that I have been your prisoner. He could be dead now for all I know.-

The sins of the master laid upon the head of the apprentice…yes, she recalled the words of the other tyrant who had nearly destroyed her; that she was suffering all of this because of the actions of her Lord. Though the situation she found herself in was far more complex than it appeared on the surface, she understood that she was here as a means to strike back against her Master.

An age-old battle of rivalries between Sith Lords and their powerbases. And the apprentices were often targeted - at least, that was something she noticed in her studies into ancient Sith history. And it was playing out before her eyes.

-It is quite possible that I am an apprentice without a master now, so I see no point in punishing me for his sins. But…if you so wish to know what I thought about his past actions…sometimes I found them to be…foolish. I did not always agree with him, or his plans. But it was not my place to question him; only to do as he directed me, as any obedient and loyal apprentice would-

She paused for a moment to try and bring oxygen into her stricken lungs, the crackling wheeze almost deafening in the silent chamber, at least it was to her ears.

-Surely you did not come to talk to a known enemy, Butcher. So what do you really want from me?-