A Thousand Faces

[Lief]

Wild Space​

En Route to Teth​

Aboard the Vhailor​

​

Space was, as ever, mystifying to the young woman who sat staring outside of the transparisteel viewport. But it could not quell the sickness in her soul, the unease she felt. One false move with what was to come and she knew that he would be gone... Lost to the aether. Thyrian Ashborn, the Phoenix, her Phoenix... Though she had never dared admit it, not until he was on his deathbed, not until he could not hear the word spoken. It did not change anything, however, she would not change for anyone... Or so she thought.

Rising from her seat she turned and stared across the room of her vessel. There the body lay stoic, a replica of whom he might have been had fate not taken him so young, had the Force not had other plans... Had the alchemists never existed. She could hear them every so often, rattling against their chains down in the hold, muffled, gagged voices trying to plead with her. Oh, but it would not do... The Phoenix required his vengeance when he woke, and who better to give it to him than she who had raised him and made him what he was?

Her troubled steps brought her to the front of him, and she raised her hand to the glass container, within which he remained in a stable yet 'dead' state. There was no consciousness inside, no soul essence. Just an empty shell. "I promised you would rise again... When have I ever broken a promise to you, Phoenix? To free you, to raise you..." She knelt down beside his container and sighed heavily. "Yet I could not save you a second time, from the dwindling of your flames. You cannot go, Thyrian, you cannot leave me here."

He had been all she knew for so long, the only constant presence in her life. While she did not need him, while she could still function without his presence, it felt so wrong... "Ten years, Thyrian... Half of my life I have known you. You know me better than any other, you saw me during each phase of my life, each ascension..." If he awoke again he wouldn't know any of what she said, was that why she was being so open? Kära felt like the child again, she who had just returned to the Empire following imprisonment with the Jedi.

"And we'll find Thurion - your kin'... I should not have kept it from you..." Settling her head into her hands she stared down at the ground, a tiny smile appearing upon her lips as her eyes were drawn to the dent he had created when the Rancor had been contained and the arm stolen from it. "Why did I never fix that..." With a tiny shake of her head she rose. "Rest, and soon you will awaken. But nothing will change, save the loss of your fires. You will still be mine to do with as I please." With that she returned to the window...

@[member='Thyrian Ashborn'] @[member='Darth Nazari']

 

[J3C0]

Darth Nazari stood in the cargo hold, cloaked in shadows and within the force. His mask hid his listless eyes as he peered around the massive room filled with alchemists and slaves. None of them noticed him, he was a but a blur in their presence. A slight frown creased his face as their screams and wailing began to annoy him, enough time should now have passed that he could make his move, or at least he hoped so.

With a simple step forward Nazari dispelled the cloak around him.

From nothingness be came back into the world of reality, appearing amongst the slaves from no where. Instantly those around him jumped back, fearful of this creature that had just appeared. Nazari payed them no mind. They were worthless, nothing to him. He was here to full fill one goal, the order of his Dark Lord.

A few of them tried begging him, and in response they received a sharp bolt of lightning to the face. He had no time to kill slaves, no time to negotiate a reward for Freedom. He was here for a woman, a woman of great power that was to be brought before the Dark Lord.

With quick heavy steps he reached the cargo pay door's, pulling them open with a swipe of the force.

The Dark Lord's command would be followed, the woman would be brought before Nazari's Master and be made to kneel, just as so many had before her. The Togruta stalked forward blatantly disregarding cameras and anything else in his way, he had a message to deliver.

 

[Lief]

The ruckus from below began to grate on her. They did not deserve the air they were breathing, the food she had been feeding them... But she had bided her time, left them alive in a tortured, immobile state, for so very long... For what? Thyrian? She had promised him, once, the day she set him free from the clutches of Circe... She had promised that they would be his. It had been a solemn promise, and as such she had not gone back on it, nor would she. If she wanted his loyalty this was a small price to pay. Besides, she knew enough about each of the individuals down in that hold to not care for their fate. They were mere pawns, to ensure his continued loyalty. Not that there was need to doubt she already had it, with the way he doted on her.

Turning from the viewport as she picked up on a changed presence in the room, one which radiated power and the Bogan alongside it, she looked upon the Sith. Her expression lay dormant for a moment as she analysed the situation, calm and collected with all the grace of a feline. Taking a step forward she tipped her head to the left, an old trait of hers, and waited for the first word to be spoken. Force knew she wouldn't be the one to break the ice, her hands settled down at her back, one slender brow raising in questioning. It was an odd day indeed when someone pulled her own tricks upon her, and she had to banish back a quirky smile as she recalled the number of times she had done just this very thing....

 

[J3C0]

Darth Nazari stared at the odd skinned woman for a second. He did not saying anything for some time, instead he studied her.

She would have made for a fantastic kill. She was strong in the force, even he could feel that. A normal fight with her would have lasted long, though A little bit of Synox Venom, and she would have died like any other. The thought made him bar his teeth in a smile, the razor sharp canines grinning below his mask.

Before he got carried away however Nazari began to speak, not wanting to draw this out any longer than he had to. While recruiting had been his job as of late it had not been his favorite task “I have an offer for you. One of unity. Of reunion. Of everything you have ever fought for.”

His words were direct and to the point, and they seemed to hold a certain knowledge within them, knowledge of her that this stranger should not have known.

 

[Lief]

If Kära was at all phased by the way in which this man spoke, the knowledge behind his words, she did not show it. Instead she gestured him over to one of the seats, should he wish to sit; the motion itself meant little, there was no requirement for him to sit, and she doubted in fact that he would... No, it was a sign that she was willing to listen, more so than anything. It wasn't every day someone made it aboard her ship without detection, infact it had never before happened although many had tried. That in itself warranted her attention.

In truth it reminded her of how she had once been with Faust, when she had bid him to her estate on Bastion. It was good to have an idea of those you wished to do business with, and this man's tone, the words he had chosen, were so akin to those she had spoken that she doubted this was anything else. "Speak freely" she merely said, remaining where she stood.

@[member="Darth Nazari"]

 

[J3C0]

Nazari did not move from his spot, he did not feel it appropriate. He was quite simply a messenger here, he was the voice of the Dark Lord and his wishes. He knew that his words were not his own, but instead the words of his Master. Supreme confidence ran through and around him as he spoke again, knowing that no Sith could resist the allure of the Vision of the Dark Lord.

“I stand with an Order far removed from what you know of the Sith. We stand not as competitors, not as Masters and Knights, but as equals. My Order is Unity. We stand beneath the Dark Lord of the Sith.” He paused for a second, gazing at her. “The True Dark Lord of the Sith.”

Nazari spoke again after another short pause, extending his Masters offer. “The Dark Lord has seen your plight. Heard your unanswered calls, and he offers you a chance. A chance to bring back the thing you crave, and a way to keep it for all time.”

Cryptic, they were words Nazari did not really understand, but he had been assured this woman would. The Dark Lord was a mystic, a powerful being capable of seeing things no other could. Nazari trusted that these words would sway the woman.

 

[Lief]

She listened without word and for a long time after the Sith had finished speaking she remained that way, silent. A glassy eyed look appeared in her gaze as she pondered the implication of the words, her senses yet not her gaze retracting itself to the body of Thyrian. Could it be that what was said was true? Was there a way for this Dark Lord to bring him back? Force knew that Kära had been relying on outside sources. But something else pricked her knowledge, above that of Thyrian. The way this one spoke suggested he was being talked through... Which meant he did not know about Thyrian, and she would leave it that way for now.

"With Unity comes Order." That in itself, without the promise of Thyrian, would have been enough to sway her. With a very gently gesture of her hand she added "Tell your Master I will consider what has been spoken of..." But even as she said these words she knew it wasn't enough, and truthfully she had been swayed. "Nay, scratch that." Her gaze bore into that of the Sith before her, as though seeing through the mask. "Where am I to go?" A man who knew her weakness was one she needed to meet, to size up and measure the threat they posed. She could not have Thyrian become a liability.

@[member="Darth Nazari"]

 

[J3C0]

“Prakith.” Nazari said the word with a slight hiss on his tongue. Prakith was an ancient Sith World in the very center of the galaxy. It had been home to one of the most ancient Sith Lords in the galaxy, and now it was home to the Dark Lord of the Sith and his Order. There the Dark Lord lived, and there Kyros would meet him. Nazari would guide her there, to the very edge of his throne room.

The Togruta pulled a small datapad from his robe, no bigger than his palm. He offered it to her.

The Device had a hyperpsace route upon it that would lead them straight to the planet. Without it Prakith was nearly impossible to find, much less safely navigate to. This route was a carefully guarded secret, even though Prakith was hardly a world one wanted to visit. “He shall be awaiting your arrival.”

 

[Lief]

With a nod of her head she took the datapad offered and hooked it up to the navigational systems of the ship. Her route to Teth was changed with the motion of a few controls and soon they set off, Kära leaving Skydd in charge of the piloting this time so as not to be rude on their guest... When they finally made it to Prakith the ship descended and the ramp lowered. When Skydd made a move to join her she shook her head. "Watch the ship and its cargo" she instructed the behemoth of a droid, and from that Skydd inferred her true meaning - keep an eye on Thyrian and the prisoners.

--

She had been led to the throne room and now awaited what lay within. Looking to the Sith at her side she perked a brow and gestured him forward, after all he was the one who had guided her here. No trace of fear of apprehension left the woman, and inwardly she felt a little spark of hope... But she knew such was a dangerous thing, and thus suppressed it. Things rarely worked the way an individual intended them to.

 

[J3C0]

Darth Nazari simply observed the woman for a second, he did not give his usual warning this time before he opened the gates to the Throne room. For some strange reason he did not feel that he needed to. With a slight sigh the Togruta pushed open the doors to the Hall, not taking a step inside. He had been instructed to remain outside for the length of this conversation, though why he had no idea.

Once again as the doors swept open a massive broiling wave of Darkside energy was thrown over them. The air became thick, the ozone stung the nostrils, and a slight haze seemed to fill their sight. The power of the darkside radiated in the room like a star radiated heat.

As soon as Kyros stepped into the room the Doors shut behind her, and a powerful voice echoed, though whether it was within the air or in her head it was impossible to tell.

The Voice was Rapture. It was ecstasy. It was pure unadulterated strength. It was like a thousand needles driven into the skull, far greater than any pain or pleasure one could feel on their own.

 

[Lief]

She stepped into the room as the doors were opened, without a second glance at the Sith who had led her here. The intoxicating draw of the Darkside lured her inside yet it did not dull her senses. If anything she found them enhanced, heightened... And, of course, the thick darksided mist which settled was banished by her hyper sensitive eyesight moments after it began to smother the air around her. Oh, this was true power. Not even the greatest of farcisists could pull off a show such as this.

Blinking to the words her gaze was directed to the throne and she made her way to the centre of the room, able to sense in a 360 degree radius around herself. She drew upon the sensations which flooded her, the blissful pleasure and the torturous pain, the darkness which permeated the very air. A small shiver ran down her spine, akin to that which she had felt upon finding her crystal only... Of a greater magnitude. She felt warm inside, as opposed to the typical ice cold... An odd effect for the darkside to have on someone. But the truth was, she was far more at home in an environment such as this than she ever was outside of this room. How had she managed for so long?

"I have come" she retorted, and her proud frame found itself sinking as she dropped to her knees. She could not help herself, it felt like an embrace had taken hold of her, a veil lifted, and yet she was completely sane, rational. She was Kära, she was Kyros... She was home.

 

[J3C0]

The Dark Lord gazed at Kara, his orange eyes never wavering from her. He seemed to already know her commitment. Already feel her thoughts and coming loyalty to him. The Dark Lord saw all, even ones very thoughts.

He spoke knowing his every word to be true, his dark voice penetrating every crevice within her mind. The Dark Lord did not mince words.

 

[Lief]

She shivered to his knowledge and found her head bowing humbly, but not once did she cease to draw upon that which was being offered around her, not once did her senses waver for any signs of deceit - not that she expected any... Not here. This was not like her former home, Umbara and the wretch. With a small intake of breathe she lifted her gaze back to his, icy blue meeting sickly, fiery orange.

"Then you are the only one to know it, the only one to see the truth for what it is"

Her confession came as a subtle shock to the woman, but she did not waver, nor flinch, she did not try to escape the truth, not here. She knew there would be no hiding from this one.

 

[J3C0]

The Dark Lord spoke once more. His words piercing into Kara's mind with a promise.​

 

[Lief]

Slowly she raised her gaze to look to the high vaulted ceiling, breathing in the air through her nose. She was silent for a long while, before softly she spoke aloud, gaze slipping down to meet his, a steadfast certainty in her eyes.

"Tell me what it is I need do, and I shall walk the path set before me."

Her voice was self sure, it was full of promise and sincerity, she intended to keep such a vow... And it wasn't even because of Thyrian, the Dark Lord would know as much, she figured. No, Thyrian was just an added bonus to her having finally found her place in the Galaxy, after so many years of wandering the stars.

@[member="Darth Nazari"]

 

[J3C0]

(Can't do fancy texts for the Dark Lord. Sorry!)
The Dark Lord watched Kyros for a time, his expression one that was quite simple yet elegant. The Voss motioned to the young girl to come closer, not stepping off the throne. Of course the Dark Lord was trusting of those that he brought here, after all he could see everything and anything about them. He had nothing to fear from Kyros, and even if she tried something, she would be obliterated in a heartbeat.

The Voss smiled slightly.

“Bring him to me.”

Kyros knew well who he was talking about, it was obvious.

 

[Lief]

[No worries, love!]

She rose from the ground where she had fallen to a knee, while the silence continued to drag out between them. Yet it was not uncomfortable... It was the sort of silence one could sit in for hours with someone they were familiar with, no words needing to be said, or so it felt within Kyros. Where had this opportunity been before? Why had it never presented itself until now? She moved up the dais steps toward the throne and stopped a respectful distance from him.

And then he spoke, and for the first time in 2 decades, during the entirety of her life, she felt a brief spark of dangerous hope. The fact that she had been brought into these chambers alone signified that perhaps this was knowledge the Sith was willing to keep to himself, also. That was good, it meant no lose ends...

Inclining her head she turned and motioned her body back down toward the door, pressing a single button against her wrist as she walked. "Bring him" she spoke to Skydd, who would prepare the body for moving. When the doors opened she left without looking at the man who had brought her here, remembering the route they took well enough.

Skydd met her at the bottom of the ramp and she took the body of the Ashborn without strain, despite the fact he was officially dead weight. This was something she would do herself, with the Force to aid her strength. Without word Skydd released the heavy robe from over his body and settled it across his companion, to hide what rested in her arms. Then he returned to the ship.

Again she passed the Sith who had led her in without word, and made her way back through the throne room toward the Dark Lord himself. She was strained to keep him in place, considering the behemoth Ashborn had been, but she was also determined. The slither of hope kept her going, even when she knew she should not be relying upon it...

@[member="Darth Nazari"] @[member='Darth Taral']

 

[J3C0]

(Going to get a bit GM'y here)
The Dark Lord did not say a word as Kyros returned with the corpse of her love. Instead the Voss simply watched. He could see things that others could not, see the life and death of things, see the connections in the hearts of people. To him they were like strings running from person to person. He could see them, feel them, and know them. It was a simple thing to him, a gift that he had always had.

Slowly the Dark Lord rose from his throne, his glowing orange eyes peering into the heart of Kyros, and stepping from the dais as he watched her.

Suddenly power gathered within him. Untold strength rolled through his body.

His orange eyes popped open and suddenly the force whirled around Kyros. It seized her, and then tore her from the body of her lover. She slid across the room, unable to stop it. The body of the former Titan however remained standing, equally caught up within the force. The Dark Lord approached the hanging dead man, his every footstep pumping out darkside power, so much so that the floor began to crack into pieces beneath him. He took another step, his faces even with that of the Titans.

The Dark Lord frowned slightly, and then simply reached out to touch the man on the forehead.

A pulse ran from the Dark Lord through to the other man. A wave of darkside energy powerful enough to shatter the stone floor's around them. A spiderweb pattern of cracks forming within the ground out from the two men. A wave of pure and utter strength ran through the room as the Dark Lord began to tear Thyrians soul from the Abyss and bring it back to reality, back to his body.

The effort to him was that of swatting a fly.

A single word rang out within the room. A word that pierced the abyss and commanded even the dead.

Whaling cries of sorrow and sadness erupted within the chamber. Blue hazy ghosts appeared all around Thyrian and the Dark Lord, the dead come to claim a body that was not theirs. The Voss did not even regard them. Did not even think of them. They reached and grabbed for Thyrian, though each time they were eradicated by the simple presence of the Dark Lord of the Sith.


He repeated his command.

The universe howled in despair, reality tore asunder, and Thyrian returned to his body.
@[member="Darth Kyros"] @[member="Darth Taral"]

 

[Thyrian Hearthfire]

Thurion!

We have to get out of here, the whole place is coming apart! There's nothing we can do for them, we've tried everything!
No, I won't let them go! They didn't do anything wrong! They don't deserve this!
Thurion, listen to me! Do you remember what I told you earlier today? Do you remember what I told you about where you go after death?
You mean, how we all get to meet out loved ones again? That they're waiting for us at the end of our journey?
Yes, which means they will all get to be with their parents again! It's only the next step we all must take during our journeys. I love you, brother...
Wait... No, Thyrian, let me go! Put me down! I won't leave without you! I can't!
Don't be afraid, Thurion. Death is not the end, remember? I'll tell mother about you, and how much you've grown since she last saw you. She'll be so proud...
THYRIAN! THYRIAAANNN...

With a loud gasp for air the body sprang to life, breathing heavily as if awoken from a horrible dream in the middle of the night. His eyes wide open, the large man stumbled onto his feet like a baby taking its first steps, immidiately falling to the floor. Catching his fall with his hands, he was given a first look at what he had become. His hands were of flesh and bone and blood; he could feel the sinews move throughout his body, the muscles react to his every command. A thousand thoughts swirling through his mind, assaulting him with ways in which he could react to it all. Scents invaded his nostrils, and the weak lightsources were enough to blind him. The cold touch of the dark stone floor made his palm burn with discomfort. This was not him, it couldn't be. He wanted to explode into a fiery inferno, to rid himself of all these new sensations which all attacked him again and again like a battering ram through his chest. A roar of utter pain and agony left his throat, and fists were raised only to be slammed down into the floor again.

Still gasping for air, as if it had been knocked out of him, he rose from the ground and managed to sit up, his back leaning against... something. When he turned his head in panic to see what it was, a pair of legs came into view, and high above them a familiar face greeted him. It took him a few moments to take in the identity of the young woman standing over him, but when he did finally figure it out, a steady stream of tears erupted from the corner of his eyes, running down his cheeks. His body turned towards the woman, and like an infant reaching for his mother he grabbed hold of her robes and pulled her into a firm embrace. The sight of his beloved Queen and Master was all that he longed for, and he had been granted it. On his knees and his arms around her thighs, he pressed his face into the fabrics of her waistline so that she would not have to witness his tears. "My... my Queen... I don't..." He struggled to speak, still panting and gasping for air in between every word. He felt naked - he was naked, with only a set of robes barely covering his large, muscular body. "I'm... I'm so cold, Master..."

@[member="Darth Kyros"] @[member="Darth Nazari"]

 

[Lief]

Kyros stood before the Dark Lord and watched as the Voss began to descend the dais. She could feel the power radiating from him, practically taste it with each breath of air she inhaled, and in his presence she felt humbled, dwarfed. She had fought long and hard, for practically her entire life, to be where she was now, and yet he managed to make her feel so redundant and lacking.

When the Force tore her from Thyrian a gasp escaped her as the air was forced from her chest, her body landing before she could fully comprehend what was happening. A small noise of protest rose within her but she managed to force it back down before it escaped –it would not do to question him, she knew the folly behind doing such. Instead she composed herself and waited, having to simply trust the Voss, the stranger she had all but given herself to.

The ground cracked outward, stopping just short of where she had been flung to, the heart of the cobwebbed effect beneath the hovering body of the Titan. Rising from the ground as the Force cried out, easily felt by the Umbaran who stood in silent vigil, she took her first tentative step toward the pair. It was not fear she felt, it was not even joy to know that the life was returning to Thyrian. No, it was awe. Never had she seen such power displayed, nor so effortlessly.

And she knew there was no going back.

Without realising it she had made it to the side of the former firelord, her eyes set to the Voss who stood over him. No words seemed to be the correct ones, the syntax she created in her mind insignificant, and before she could even attempt to speak she felt a stirring in the Force, a familiar presence flooding her senses, and her gaze lowered. He rose, and even then she knew he did so too soon. The body he bore was not one he was used to, it had never before been used, and she knew it would take time…

When he fell back to his knees she felt the understanding, or at least confusion, spreading through him. The rage did not even make her miss a breath; she was used to it by now where Thyrian was concerned. But part of her wondered what the Dark Lord made of it. It took him but a moment more to realise she too was present. The show of weakness he made flared slight annoyance within the woman, before she realised, she empathised, with the situation and what he was going through. It was a complete overhaul in his reality, the senses would overwhelm him she knew. And thus, this once, she permitted it.

Removing the cloak from her own back she crouched to his level and wrapped it around him over the top of his own robes. Her eyes bore into his, icy blue inquisitively seeking his very soul. “The cold will pass”, his mind would adjust to the lower core body temperature, for now layers would have to do. If the Voss was expecting her to do or say more where the reawakened man was concerned he would be sadly mistaken.

She rose and tore her gaze from Thyrian, to instead look upon the Dark Lord. “A debt is owed, a life for a life” she asserted, but it was clear she said it out of principle and not an emotional attachment. She would never reveal that side of her being to the Voss openly, especially not with Thyrian present. The less he knew, the better.

@[member="Darth Taral"] @[member="Darth Nazari"]