A Walk in the Park

[Boethiah]

"Do you feel anything that isn't so self-serving, Kiber?" Anja unsheathed her blade, turning to face her own apprentice during what was said to be a walk... Quite so; Anja had told him they were taking a walk. What harm could be in that? Besides she wasn't one to lie--and she didn't. She withheld information.

Mirial
- The Wilderness
Morning -

Mirial was a frigid, dry world filled with deserts and little else.

There were few reasons why Anja would bring anyone here; let alone go herself... Kiber Dorn was always near the Host Lord, he was her apprentice, so it was only natural that he'd come along with her wherever she went but that didn't leave this world as anything less than an odd choice. By now Kiber should realize that Anja's words should never be taken lightly--especially when it involves training.

Last time he ended up half-dead on Dantooine.

Has he forgotten already?

[member="Kiber Dorn"]

 

[Kiber Dorn]

He thought it was just a walk.

How could he have been so naive? Nothing was ever what it seemed in his world any more. His life, formally his, was now part owned by his monstrous cousin Cedric, and his callous Master before him, Anja Aj'Rou. The man's former life of drugs and squalor seemed like heaven in comparison to this roller-coaster of chaos and pain. He would have given so much to return, but it would have been utter futility.

From his last encounter with Cedric he had realised that the only way to take back control of his life was through power, perhaps even death.

He was, however, nowhere near ready. So when Anja pulled her blade out on him Kiber froze, emerald eyes immediately moving to the weapon brandished before him. Mind raced, only half focused to the question posed at that moment.

“Uh...I don't...” Kiber responded slowly, holding both of his hands up as if they might have protected him, “...I suppose I don't.”

---

[member="Anja Aj'Rou"]

 

[Boethiah]

Anja rarely showed emotion--especially to Kiber.

Right now, however, she frowned a little at his answer. Clearly it wasn't what she desired of him to say, but he probably had no idea what she wanted of him regardless of the scenario. Anja couldn't blame him for that, she understood that she was a difficult master, but that was the point. How many times must she teach him a lesson? And how many more times must he fail to grasp the purpose of that lesson? After everything they've done together she has not seen Kiber improve at all.

Aside from the incident on Dantooine, he's never once showed her any form of capability. "You are beginning to lose value. I know you have power. I know you have potential. So why don't you use it--why must you refuse to be anything but a footnote?" She pulled the blade back, strengthening her grip around the hilt before swinging the weapon from the side, bending the blade's arc downward as she aimed for his leg.

Dreamweaver was a particularly annoying blade to be cut by. Even the smallest incision will cause its victim to fall for its magick. A large cut is even worse, for some that it is impossible to break free from. A gaping wound? Even a master couldn't escape its effects then. If she wanted to, she probably could've went for the throat and killed him right there and then; he was never prepared... How has he lived so far?

[member="Kiber Dorn"]

 

[Kiber Dorn]

The frown was a worry, but still only came second place to the sight of that blade. At least he had his priorities in order? No, he wasn't even sure of that. Physical wounds can heal, a quiet sensible voice in his head doubted that she was going to slay him however the wound of opinion that he had etched into the woman would be infinitely harder to heal.

Were that opinion dire enough, then perhaps it would spell his end.

Thankfully his coward's foray into the world of war with the Primeval had at least made him competent in the art of avoiding dying, so far. This meant dodging rather than fighting, which Kiber himself had no issues with. Face etched with panic, his gangly legs hopped backwards, avoiding laceration as he took further steps to make space between them both.

“That's not power,” he replied, looking up at his Master with widened eyes, “I don't want to u-use that.”

Of course, that which was being referenced was his different state of being that had occurred upon Dantooine. A monstrous state fed with nothing but hatred and malevolence, striving only for death and Chaos.

“I don't want to be that.”

---

[member="Anja Aj'Rou"]

 

[Boethiah]

"Then use something you can actually control," the force around them drew in as her palm shot out forward and sent a blast of energy towards Kiber.

If he was going to dodge her melee, then she'd attack from a distance. Sooner or later she knew he'd have to fight back; sooner or later he'd give into his instincts and be forced to fight. For whatever reason it was like he saw himself as an animal. Animals didn't hold such power, animals couldn't topple nations and armies--and animals weren't cowards who couldn't fight back.

The last time Anja had gone this far was when she had first found him on Bastion. She dragged him back to the palace, tossed him in the dungeons, and hung him from chains as the metal sank into his flesh. She wasn't here to make him feel pain... She was here to watch him die or rise.

[member="Kiber Dorn"]

 

[Kiber Dorn]

Control.

That was the crux of it, wasn't it?

Kiber wanted control, craved it now more than he had craved any spice. Made sense, given in the past few months his usage of narcotics had heavily decreased. It was out of fear more than out of a need for personal improvement and growth. That loss of inhibition that came from the needle of the pill might have given way to that which lurked beneath him.

That was the last thing he wanted.

The blast of energy hit him square in the chest, knocking the man off of his feet and onto his back with a loud thud. The usually pained groans came from the floored Kiber while he coughed a few times. It hit like a battering ram to the sternum.

He rolled into a crawl, scrambling back onto his feet under the pretence that she might have rushed him with that sword while he was down.

“But you're stronger than me!” came the panicked response, as once again he raised his hands to attempt some form of diplomacy, “I can't beat you, so why try?!”

His mind was turned to the current situation at hand, rather than the general scope. There was nothing in his limited arsenal that he could use to combat the woman in this situation, never mind the rest of the galaxy. He was a coward at heart, a weasel who preferred words to weapons, mostly because he had no real weapons of his own.

---

[member="Anja Aj'Rou"]

 

[Boethiah]

"Why does prey still struggle when it's in the predator's jaws?" She did indeed maneuver herself close to him, she was quick on her feet and swung the blade down directly at him.

If he wasn't going to fight back, then she'd kill him, there wasn't anything more to it than that. For some killing your apprentice was no way to teach them, but Anja has gone through several already. She needs someone who is strong, not because they can fight, but because we will not to die. He was a coward, not a survivor, but she knew he could be one if he tried.

So until he decided to change course, she'd continue to strike at him again, and again, and again. With her magicks and her sword, she would not relent. She no longer felt the cold air around her, her mind was focused entirely on her little battle with Kiber.

[member="Kiber Dorn"]

 

[Kiber Dorn]

The blade came down, and while Kiber backed up once again it wasn't quite fast enough. The shaky left hand of attempted diplomacy caught the brunt, the sword slicing through the flesh between his middle and ring finger.

With a loud (and pathetic) yelp the man snatched away his wounded hand, the crimson already beginning to flow. Pained, he curled the left hand into a fist, almost afraid to look at the damaged that had been done, from what he felt she might as well have cleaved his hand in two.

“Oh...F-force!”

Kiber's uninjured right hand clasped around the left as he backed up once again, despite knowing that putting distance between them was ultimately futile.

“Because there's...there's always a chance to escape until you're dead!”

His eyes watered, very likely from the effects of pain upon an admittedly craven man. He blinked, and blinked again, trying to clear his vision, trying not to cry in front of The Host Lord. Wounded hand was already slick with blood. Breathing hard from panic. There was a strange itch in his chest. A guttural grinding in the back of his head. All planting further seeds of horror within.

“Please stop! I'll train! I'll l-learn!”

---

[member="Anja Aj'Rou"]

 

[Boethiah]

Anja pulled her blade back, "no, you won't." Then she twisted it so the sword swung from the opposite direction.

"You are in this position because you've learned nothing. You should train because you wish to survive, and you must survive so that you may learn. It is too late to speak or beg, you will either die by my hands or prove to me that you're worth letting live." She brought the blade down on him with all her might, this time she was going for the kill and he'd have to try hard not to die.

Even if she hesitated to use all of her powers, she wasn't going easy on him. Her swordarm was quick and trained, one that required poise to defend against. Something that Kiber seemed to lack entirely, and he'd rather beg for mercy than to fight for his life. It is in this mistake that he'll learn the costs of failure most harshly.

[member="Kiber Dorn"]

 

[Kiber Dorn]

It was evident, that this time Kiber wasn't going to be able to talk his way out of this issue. Troublesome with death staring him straight in the face, even more troublesome when the man didn't even wield a weapon to defend himself with.

Her words were likely true.

He wasn't learning, just stumbling through life with a lot of luck and no skill. At first it was all right, the lower cities of Coruscant was a place where simple guile and quick wits were enough to get by on but as time progressed, as Cedric and the Primeval became part of his existence the situations became increasingly dire, the scrapes more severe. If she let him have mercy now, it would have likely continued.

Not that he saw it that way.

The blade came down once again, he dived to the right, crashing into the frigid dirt with a thump.

The guttural whispers grew ever-louder, still incoherent but very present. Something was wrong. Another side effect of Cedric's magics? An old spice flashback? Or something else? It might have made sense, giving the hot itch present in his afflicted chest.

“I don't feel right,” he snivelled, still clutching his bloody hand with the other, as he rolled onto his back upon the ground. The prickly heat in his chest felt like it was spreading, like a strange sickness rolling over him.

“S-something’s wrong!”

---

[member="Anja Aj'Rou"]

 

[Boethiah]

"How weak," she muttered.

There was no point in this game of his, if he wasn't going to fight back then she'd end him; that's the way she thought. Sheathing her blade, Anja took several steps back and at first it seemed as if she was going to do nothing. Then she began to draw upon the magicks around them, tearing it out of the world itself, to one's senses they could feel the very earth suffering and dying as its very essence was torn asunder.

Summoning this power into her hands, Anja unleashed an energy field so dense that it vaporized matter within its very center.

The invisible force trucked towards Kiber relentlessly, with nothing holding it back or preventing it from dealing a death blow should he be helpless and unable to escape its center of power.

[member="Kiber Dorn"]

 

[Kiber Dorn]

Well, she was never going to be a source of sympathy. Even if you'd lost an arm Anja Aj'Rou would have expected you to soldier on, probably.

For a moment Kiber thought he was getting his slice of mercy, but that moment was quickly evaporated and for once he used some semblance of skill to realise such. Being upon the receiving end of his cousin's dark magic had prepared him for that moment. That aura of malevolence that was so often present when Cedric wielded the Force.

Another scramble to his feet, the burn still spreading outwards from his blackened chest. In his rush the man lost his fine brown boot, but he himself managed to scrabble away from the area of devastation. The shoe, however, was obliterated.

With the momentum that Kiber used to launch himself out of harms way, he ended up on the ground once again, face down, almost like a worm wriggling upon the dirt. The whispers grew louder, more coherent, words being formed instead of archaic hissing.

I gave you a gift.

“Cedric,” he whimpered, feeling the affliction come down to his belly and up to his arms. Almost forgetting Anja in that moment he finally let go of his wounded hand, and rolled up his left sleeve, to inspect the strange feeling.

Only to witness horror as he saw that thick inky blackness crawl across his flesh, slowly spreading down his arms, consuming his humanity.

Embrace your potential, cousin!

His unclean nails began to dig at the flesh of his arm, trying to physically remove the taint as his head turned to his Master, eyes scared and desperate.

“Help me!”

---

[member="Anja Aj'Rou"]

 

[Boethiah]

Droplets of sweat formed along the Host Lord's face, unleashing that destructive force required a certain amount of energy that few possessed. Kiber had managed to avoid a direct hit, which saved his life whether or not he knew it. Based on how he was acting, Anja assumed that he probably wasn't aware.

She was unsure if this was the effect of her blade, or a combination of that and something else. By the way he acted, Anja could sense a great amount of fear and paranoia. Then he screamed out for her to help him with whatever invisible foe he was facing. She slowly walked towards her apprentice and once more drew her blade, the sword held in her left hand dragged lightly in the dirt before she raised it up and thrusted the weapon, aiming to pierce his abdomen.

Help yourself...

[member="Kiber Dorn"]

 

[Kiber Dorn]

Fingernails scratched so desperately at what he saw as blackened flesh, but rather peeled away at his own skin, leaving harsh bloody marks across his upper left arm.

He watched as she approached him, not offering him help but instead her blade. Half clinging to awareness of the scene around him Kiber tried to roll away from her, but in his state of incomplete focus felt the sharp sting of the sword biting his side, thankfully not impaling but instead slicing.

You can be so much more.

The gangly man remembered the village, remembered Flea, remembered how Cedric had turned them into black twisted abominations that only existed upon hatred and darkness. Now the same thing was happening to him.

The afflicted flesh actively burned now, still spreading ever further down. Judgement was beginning to be clouded, that mindless vicious presence bearing down upon his mind offering nothing but sinister malice. It urged him to be strong, urged him to kill. It spoke to him of potential and of becoming great.

Without thinking, both hands moved for her blade, trying to grasp at both the flat and the back of the weapon (but in his clumsiness he might not have been so accurate).

“You have to cut it out!” Kiber screamed, pleading, "PLEASE!"

---

[member="Anja Aj'Rou"]

 

[Boethiah]

Anja's eyes widened slightly as the event unfolded, she truly didn't expect him to ever try to grab her blade. Almost instinctively, without thinking, she twisted the blade and attempted to pull it out from his hands stubbornly. It was also surprising at how far his mind has fallen. Had he gone mad?

Dreamweaver was indeed a frightening weapon, its strengths did not come from its shape or even the phrik it was made from, but rather the combination of her own powers imbued into it that were amplified by the reverie crystal in its hilt.

However; that power was not something she expected to be so potent, especially not against someone whose raw potential was so high. Kiber may be untrained, weak, and pathetic, but he should be able to resist such things enough where the effects were lessened. Was he allowing it to grab hold? Or did he merely lack the will do anything about it? Those thoughts soon faded away, Anja regained her composure that was only briefly lost all within the mere second or two spent.

[member="Kiber Dorn"]

 

[Kiber Dorn]

As it was twisted the blade cut his hands, letting more of his blood be spilled upon the hard ground.

His fear, having already been at the forefront of his mind was let loose to play now. Kiber had been trying to hard to keep his mind off such fates, believing that holding very thoughts of his fear was dangerous for his safety. If he didn't think about it, it wouldn't consume him. It wouldn't take him over.

That had failed.

The blackness was at his wrists, moving ever faster as his judgement became ever clouded. He couldn't win this fight, certainly not with Anja on his heels wielding death. Perhaps it might have been better to let her end it, rather than embrace that terrible fate that awaiting him.

Still upon the floor his hand reached out, upwards towards her.

“Help me!” he wailed, eyes bloodshot and thick with tears, “Why won't you help me!”

Suddenly the bloodied mess of a hand clenched into a fist, squeezing further crimson from out of his wounds and at the same time the Force moved to wrap around Anja's throat. Tautening, constricting. Strange that he was trying to choke her, given that he was still pleading upon the ground. It was as if he was no longer in control of his own actions.

“HELP ME!”

Or so he thought.

---

 

[Boethiah]

The blade jerked back after he released it, his own blood stained the sword's metal.

Kiber was near the end, she could slay him in one swing from where he sat and begged. Then his hand reached out, his voice cried out and tears rolled down his cheeks. Anja's visage offered him no comfort, sympathy, or anything that looked like she would spare him or pity him.

Raising her blade high in the air, the witch was ready to make the final blow...

What is this?

She felt a discomfort wrapping itself around her neck, at first it was weak but then it grew stronger and more constricting. The discomfort turned to pain, and she was on the verge of suffocation. instinctively her free hand went up to grab hold of her own throat, as if trying to subdue the phantom hands that strangled her. She stumbled back and her sword arm lowered. It took her a few moments to realize what was happening, it was a surprise to see him capable of anything like this, and her face showed it.

Concentrating on the painful touch, she fortified herself with the force and used her magicks to push back the energy he summoned, freeing her throat from its grip. Her chest contracted deeply before expanding again as she swallowed the air around her, feeding her lungs with the oxygen they needed.

[member="Kiber Dorn"]

 

[Kiber Dorn]

He was losing control.

The very last thing he wanted in the galaxy was this. He didn't want to be another one of Cedric's abominations, a mindless husk lacking everything that made a sentient being. No needs, no wants, no hopes, no dreams, no soul. No longer Kiber Dorn, just a twisted puppet.

A monster.

“I d-don't want….don't want to…be...”

The black had engulfed his flesh by now. His entire being burned, like small needles pricking his whole body. The oppressing crushing darkness now focussed its entire weight upon his mind, Cedric's voice now roaring his will, trying to completely obliterate Kiber's ability to exercise his own free will.

KILL HER.

The Force flooded his limbs, the limitations of his usually pathetic muscles becoming broken. Breathing elevated, air forcefully being pushed from his nostrils, chest rising and falling ever quicker. A haze of red descended upon his vision.

With unexpected swiftness he returned to his feet, posture strange and bent, almost animal-like. There was no time for a reprise, aided by the Force Dorn leapt forward, not caring for the mortal danger of her sword. Arms outstretched he went to physically grab her by the throat with both hands, but with teeth also bared he tried to bite her face, more specifically her cheek.

---

[member="Anja Aj'Rou"]

 

[Boethiah]

This second nature--primal instinct--which took over Kiber's body in only a matter of moments had truly been unexpected. Anja's lifeless gaze widened, deep emotions which haven't been felt since she was young began to pierce her empty heart. It was...Exquisite.

Yet the poor, corrupted soul of her apprentice hadn't realized one thing; or maybe he just didn't care anymore. The sword in her hand was not the deadliest weapon of the Host Lord, Anja was a masterful witch whose magicks, although untamed, held wild, menacing power that even Jedi masters had struggled to go up against. She saw enough, the verdict was as she hoped, and with swift reaction the woman slid back and spun towards her left, nearly stumbling as she allowed the man to leap past her. Within the same motion she had sheathed her blade.

Using a combination of Mind Twist and her Sith Illusions, Anja unleashed the magicks around them to wrap around Kiber; invisible strings of energy shot out and attempted to pierce his mind and body, taking over every sense and perception, attempting to throw him into a dark world where one could not see, hear, smell, or even feel. Not the internal screams or moisture of ones mouth would be found, their existence only confirmed by the depths of their thoughts and the numbness of their mass.

[member="Kiber Dorn"]

 

[Kiber Dorn]

There was a snarl, a vocalisation of frustration when he found that there was no woman in his grip and no flesh between his teeth and that he had simply rushed past her. Swiftly, he turned upon his foot to face her once again, so that the charge could be renewed.

However, when he swivelled round all that he was confronted with was darkness.

No Anja Aj'Rou, no Mirial, nothing but the black. A different breed as to what sat upon his skin, no, it wasn't the malevolent dark that threatened to consume his being at every turn but rather a void of nothingness.

In his current state there was no chance to resist, mindless beasts were beyond vulnerable to such things unless nature had equipped them to do so. In his frenzied, feral state Kiber Dorn might have been physically stronger, more durable, blind to the notion of pain but without a proper mind held he was beyond vulnerable to other such attacks.

Confusion reigned surpreme in his new state of being. He tried to step forward but nothing. There was no ground beneath his feet. Upon looking down he found that there were no feet above the ground either. His body did not exist. He did not exist. I have no mouth and I must scream. Perhaps thankfully such a state of nothing eluded his current frame of mind, leaving the creature more confused than terrified.

---

[member="Anja Aj'Rou"]