Private Act I, Where Children Toil, Toys Waste Away

[Lunafreya Solidor]

T A G S | PERSENUS
T H E M E | Here.​

Thrice had the blades sang again each other, bashing steel against steel, echoing loud tunes that were deafening to the ear. Much like this misplaced song, thrice had the vision in front of his eyes seem to shatter, cracking over its edges as rocks started to melt away. Strong was he, even the unconscious mind of the Byt would admit that had it been given a voice to express its blunt feelings by its creators, many eons ago. However, old was she, more than he would ever dream on being, and in this game, will be not everything, as malice and foul wisdom proved to weigh much more on the scales that governed the universe.
“You are not strong. You are just a stupid... pathetic... boy!”, the figure of the father said, but as his phrase began to change, so did his voice, as his body was given a new shape, horns began to pour out of its forehead, while its skin, that pale shape took the tone of a sickly yellow, his bright eyes gleamed like gold, giving it a new identity, as Festrous itself appeared before his eyes.

Raising his free hand, the Sith Lord pushed with that invisible power he had, tossing him back as the very scenario around them changed much like a heart would be followed by a fresh heartbeat suffocating the last one. A dark room this was, with metallic walls, poorly lighted by lamps hanged on its ceiling. Festrous tossed him against one of those walls, and swung the sword in his hand twice, laughing as he had done it, while the blade changed as well, assuming the shape of a crimson lightsaber.
“What’s wrong, Persennus? Still crying about daddy?”, his words were filled with spite, they mocked him relentlessly. “He was but a vermin, incapable of deciding his own fate, much like his son. You will never know real power, for you lack the will to understand what it truly is!”, the Sith advanced, in his eyes was the clear intent of his actions; killing him, cutting his existence in half, and tossing his remains so that the dogs in the fox earth would feast upon his flesh.

 

[PERSENUS]

The memory shifted aback - before the tattoos. He was in his purest state to face his master, without the markings and alchemical enhancements that augmented his physical state. Persenus, however, would not take notice. Persenus drew his own saber, same as the purest for of him. It was from before the beginning of his training, the saber handed to him by Festrous when they had first started before the additions from sabers that he had rended from the hands of Jedi, Jen'jidai, and Jen'ari alike. His blade clashed with his, quick to recover from being flung by the telekinetic blast.

Even at early in his apprenticeship under Festrous, he was a superior swordsman to his master. It did not make up for the gap in sheer knowledge in the Force with the savant that Festrous was in the mystic arts but Persenus had always proved his worthiness through sheer attrition whenever it was questioned. It was a circle of constant pain, suffering, with scarce rewards and the rewards that were given chipped away the the humanity of Persenus. Sparks flew as sabers collided.

"You're enslaved!" He parried a blow, then another, and then returning one of his own. "Deranged. Drugged. Decaying. You're drunk off of your own power, old fool, controlled by it!" He pressed back as he spoke. "And what strength is that!? You've failed to conquer it!"

It has never been easy. No, not as the Jedi said. Each day was pain, the pathway of the dark side was like that each step of the way. He realizes that perhaps his way is why he could not comprehend it. Perhaps it is why he could not attain the power he seeks. But perhaps that is alright. Insanity, it was, but he didn't care.

Lunafreya Solidor

 

[Lunafreya Solidor]

T A G S | PERSENUS ​

From the depths of his long neck came the booming spitful sound of a deep cackle. While his gaze was entirely focused on the boy in front of him.
“You are still the same blind boy I found smelling of piss.”, his words came as the wrist hurling the whip on the backs of slaves, filled with joy and hatred all the same.
“I told you once that the Sith were Eternal, my will shall never die. In the bowels of time, my spirit lingers for eternity, and you...”, the male Sith lord’s skin seemed to glow with a rash golden tone as if he was covering with dust, like a burst of electricity, powerful enough to maim a male adult Rancor came bursting away from his body, storming in the Echani’s direction to inflict pain. “You are lost. Driting in your own foolishnesses, what success have you earned? What did you achieve with your life? Nothing.”

His body moved, not by jumping or walking, it simply moved away from him, nothing huge, just a few meters. Festrous raised his arm, reaching out with his free hand in front of him, with his two main fingers pointing in his face, making but a subtle gesture to the left, passing an invisible act of pain towards his opponent. To him, everything would start to become darker, as if the lights of that room were almost close enough to be shut down, when in truth, the Echani would be close to becoming utterly blind.
“Perhaps you don’t deserve this gift we call life. Nor do you deserve to breathe, to move, to see, nor you deserve your wasted potential.”, he raised his blade once more into the air, preparing once more to storm his foe with that deadly blade of his.
“Now tell me, brat, answer me correctly and you live to see another day... who are you?”

 

[PERSENUS]

With every clash, every attack that Festrous placed upon him, Persenus' stamina waned. It was as if all the injuries and all the pain he has ever felt compounded themselves upon him again and again with every cross of their blades. He pushed on forward but across the lightning and darkness, that hope was fading from the Echani and the only thing left was desperation. The only thing left was fear. It was not strength, he realized. It wasn't strength that pushed him forward all these years. It was fear. He was a cornered rat, scared of everything to the point that it did not care for anything, as long as it lived as it would die, struggling and screaming.

Was it an existence he could tolerate? Being at the mercy of greater powers was a fear he had be beholden to for many years and as the sparks flew from their blades, he could feel that fear grow more and more. He wanted to call upon rage and anger once more, but they were finite resources, to be tired out. Perhaps that is the one truth that he has found in here - emotion is a fading light. It is an ember that struggled to survive. So what made the Sith eternal? What made them persist?

He realized it wasn't about emotion. It wasn't from within. That finality was given to them by fate, by the Force, by the flow of time. Could he withstand to answer it and say yes? Is he willing to submit to that truth? He was steering closer and closer to yes, all these years. All these years, he's struggled to answer "no" at every corner. Now as the darkness consumes him, he cements himself. Centering his mind, his body, and his soul, he clears everything away. There is nothing but the moment. There is nothing but the next. That is the one truth he could understand. The one thing he can accept. It is the one thing he's always known. Feel this moment and nothing else, he orders to himself.

Cracks begin to form and he sees the one truth he's sought all along. There is no fear. There is no peace. There is no anger. There is no serenity. In this moment, there is only the Force, and there is only you. He sees it and feels it, finding the cracks in the blade, the brightness in the darkness. He steps forward, plunging his blade and himself into it all.

"Persenus." He answers back. It is the one name he could ever truly accept.

 

[Lunafreya Solidor]

L O C A T I O N | Back at the Steps.
T A G S | PERSENUS
T H E M E | Here.
V O I C E | Here.​

The entirety of the frame cracked, the walls crumbled, the floors melted away and the ghostly shade of Festrous watched everything with emotionless eyes. His gaze turned back at the Echani, a keen smile formed on his lips, offering one last nod with his head before his shape vanished into smoke.
“We will meet again someday... Persenus.”, his words triggered what was bound of happening. The entire illusion fell apart, disappearing to reveal the real place where the Echani would have been waiting in his sleep, laying on the hardened floor carved by some poor creature so many years ago, he was still on the stairway, he was still at the Byt, with the sniffling of a creature bitting through the fabric of his left boot with its sharp talon-like teeth, raising its head to gaze upon his fleshy mark as the humanoid opened his eyes.

The beetle howled, or at least it would appear to be the case, he seemed desperate. His legs moved in a clumsy way as he began to make a run far away from him, he had seen what the despicable creature had done to his brethren earlier in the steps, he had no intention of letting the same happening to him too. When his eyes became wide open, a ghostly hooded figure would be seen, standing still and standing tall, as if waiting for Persenus to carry on with its journey. The wind began to blow once again, intense and heavy, its sound howled against the mountainside bringing the churning scent of depredation and death. The cries of the fallen could be heard, some even dared to speak, insults and whimpering requests of assistance, while others only expressed themselves by breathing heavily, as if they were to witness something of great importance.