Breaking The Pit

[Cedric Dorn]

Soliael simply nodded to his uncle. Despite himself he actually felt rather comforted by his uncles words and thus he simply did as he was told. Slowly Soliael thought about this, he spread out his force senses and began to probe the tablets. He found this task to be far more difficult than he had expected. His own aura still stunk up the entire area around him, his body and his own force powers fought against everything he was trying to do.

It was hard fighting with oneself, even more so when the part of yourself you were fighting was something you never had to deal with for nearly two centuries. Soliael had not used the force, ever, and this was an entirely new. It was like fighting an uphill battle against a set of rapids.

Finally he began to strain, sweat dropped from his brow, but finally he managed to break through. He felt one of the tablets, and the signature seemed to scream at him.

“Fire” Soliael said the word with quite a bit of bite to it, then he continued. “Water...Mind....body.”

He continued on like this for quite some time. He strained out with each word. It became easier and easier Until finally he had listed out eleven of the tablets. At this point sweat poured from him, his mind was strained and it seemed every single muscle in his body was tensed. Then finally he stopped. He could no longer hold onto it. The force drifted from him, and his eyes snapped open.

 

[Dissero]

"Practice is invaluable," Dissero remarked as he strode by the plinth upon which sat the stone for Body, "every drop of sweat has an immeasurable price on it."

The Archivist said little more as he came to stand behind the plinth of the lone, unnamed stone. Its own markings were quite ellusive to many, especially those of dark backgrounds. So often were they caught up in anger, hate, malice and spite, the burning desire to reap the galaxy aflame clouded this particular stone's mark. Dissero would not say he was or was not surprised that Soliael had missed it, he would simply say the exercise had told him much about the man that usually only time would.

"It's quite frustrating, isn't it? Not knowing..." the man said cryptically, blue eyes dropping to regard the stone before him, "I myself struggled to learn the identity of several stones for quite some time. The mind often gets in the way of itself with the desire to know. I am and always have been plagued by this desire, it is what drove me to become what I am. My love affair with knowledge and the prospect of unveiling the mysterious is second only to one."

"Ask me a question, Devin," the man looked to his relative with a calm face, "anything that comes to mind."

@[member="Soliael Devin Talith"]

 

[Soliath Devin Talith]

Soliael pondered for a few minutes. The exercise had strained him quite a bit and beads of sweat ran beneath his long hair. He had to think. There were many questions that he could ask, many related to the force and even more to subjects that he did not know if Dissero even knew about. His Uncle had only lived for a fraction of the time that he had, but he had been studying the force for far longer than Soliael ever had.

Whereas the older of the two men had been mired in the knowledge of the ancients, seeking out their history and their tales Dissero had instead been learning of the force and the powers it held. The Force was an entirely different entity, and it was one that Soliael was not really familiar with.

Slowly Soliael looked about the meditation chamber, his bright orange eyes coming to a rest on one of the stones. Finally a thought occurred to him, it pierced through his mind. It was a thought born of a memory.

“What do you know of Sorcery?” Soliael didn't say the gifts full name, he assumed that Dissero would know what he was talking about. Sith Sorcery ran in their family, or at least through his Oma. He wanted to find out If he had the same gift, the same power...but he had no idea how to find out.

 

[Dissero]

The Archivist smirked. A good question. A powerful question.

"Sorcery and Force Magiks are curious things. You'll find, if you do any amount of research into our family lineage, that most all Shamalains are capable of it to one extent or another. Dark Sorcery is something my mother is quite gifted at, though generally it tends to skip a generation as trends show. My late sister and now mentor, Cerusia Shamalain, was terribly bereft of the power. However, she had an innate ability to recognize it and understand it like few others. ....sort of like being an Engineer without the ability to build on one's ideas or understanding."

Clearing his throat as he glanced to the next plinth and the Earth stone sitting upon it, Dissero moved to circle it, "Your mother is skilled in Elemental sorcery. Natural magiks. Quite unlike anything I've ever seen, though I'm told she reigned in a time where it was commonplace." he said as he moved to the next stone, the representative of Shadow and all things dark and hidden, "I myself have the gift of Dark Sorcery, or what you might refer to as Sith Sorcery. My mother never cared for that label, as she never cared for the name of Sith. It is the power that enables me to ...handle my charges as well as I do."

The Archivist's charges being his artifacts, holocrons, and all things that came with the territory of delving into the history of the Galaxy.

 

[Soliath Devin Talith]

Soliael already knew about his Oma, he hadn't known about Dissero's talent within the same art and of course he had known about his Mothers skills. He had seen her fight often enough throughout the years to at least learn that. He pondered for a moment, thinking about how to ask his next question.

“How do I know if I have the ability?” Soliael asked quite bluntly. He figured that Dissero would appreciate the direct approach rather than toeing around the question. As of yet Soliael had no ideas where his gifts lay in the force. He knew his mothers strengths, he knew his Oma's and the rest of his families, but he did not know his fathers. All he knew of Moridin was that he had been renowned as a blademaster, but that didn't take the force.

For all he knew Moridin had been almost incapable of using the force, or perhaps his gifts lay elsewhere. Soliael had no idea, and quickly he made a mental note to find out where his Fathers gifts within the force had been.

Soliael had long theorized that abilities within the force were genetically passed down. That if your family was gifted in something then you would be as well...or most of the time anyway. Truthfully though Soliael had no idea if that was true, and he was eager to learn.

 

[Dissero]

"There are ways to test your ability, some more dangerous than others. All of them costly. Sith Sorcery is not in the business of generosity, it is one of sacrifice," Dissero replied, expression serious.

"At the risk of offending you I must speak in earnest: I do not believe you are ready to test those waters yet. You are my kin, blood of my blood, and I would not put you to fate like I so willingly throw the non-essentials of the Empire simply to rid myself of their nuisance." Very few Apprentices had come to call on the Archivist after reading of the terribly short average lifespan his previous pupils had rendered. Dissero didn't mind, it gave him more time to work on his mission.

 

[Soliath Devin Talith]

Soliael looked at his uncle for a few minutes. He pondered his words, knowing that there was truth to them. Sith Sorcery was a dangerous art. It required hatred, despair, all negative emotions to even work. He frowned, knowing that perhaps his uncle was right but at the same time wanting to test his own mettle. It had now been two hundred years, two hundred years of holding himself back and checking himself in place. Two hundred years of not knowing his own strength and powers.

Slowly the new Sith stood from his meditating position, sweat still beading down his body. It was not meant to intimidate his Uncle, nor did his body language suggest it, it seemed he simply wanted to stand even with his younger kin.

“It has been two hundred years...” Soliael said quietly, not in anger or rage, but neutrality. “Two hundred years of waiting and denying myself my birthright.”

To call the force his birthright was a bit of a dramatization, but it seemed the right wording. “I'm sorry Merovign, but I will not wait any longer. I will face whatever it is i must.”

 

[Dissero]

Dissero watched him, unsmiling, and for a short time seemed he might take after his mother more than Devin would have liked. The man was dubiously stubborn in his own right, but where he differed from Silencia was that while she fiercely protected her secrets and knowledge, he sought to uncover them.

Just like Devin, it seemed.

"Very well," the man nodded, "I can respect your hunger. Follow me."

They left the meditation chamber to the soft hissing sound of the plinths slowly returning to their homes in the floor. Dissero lead him from the winding halls of the archives to a lift at the far end and down, down, down they went into the deep labyrinth of the Vaults. They exited three levels down to a long, dark corridor lined by sealed doors. There was power down here, immense and tangible in its unseen weight. It permeated the senses like a thick aroma might and clouded the mind with a hazey fog.

The Archivist breathed easy in his domain and lead without preamble down the hall, stopping at a door on the right. From beneath his collar the man procured a brass chain upon which a small walnut sized pyramid amulet hung and lifted to insert it into a matching depression by the door. The man spoke strange words under his breath and Soliael might feel the familiar prickle of dark energies in use. After a moment the internal lock mechanisms groaned, clicked - the door hissed and they were granted passage.

The darkness that they walked into was as thick and heavy as ever. Stepping in, they plunged into absolute black. Soliael might feel something strangely familiar about it.

"Wait here," the Archivist said to his student. The sound of footsteps followed.

There was a mechanical sound, smaller locks moving in the bleak. The ring of metal across the surface, a spark of life amongst the choking cloud of desolation.

"To truly know your potential in these dark powers you must face it without reservation. Death is a Mistress you must become intimately familiar with. But she is a fickle lover; unkind, greedy, and ever insatiable," two blue pinpricks of light appeared before Soliael, and it might be seconds after he felt the hot sting of a blade impale him through the stomach that he would recognize them as the glowing eyes of Lord Dissero. It passed through and the blade rang as it struck the bone of his spine, searing through his insides and out through the small of his back. An unbearable heat could be felt by both occupants of the room, but it was a heat of the deepest throes of malice that Dissero had slowly become familiar with ever since attaining the blade from Moridin's prize student nearly a year ago.

"and if she loves you," those blue eyes watched Soliael as he pulled the blade free in one swift movement, "she will let you return over and over again."

 

[Soliath Devin Talith]

Soliael had no time to react, no time to speak or ask why he was stabbed. The blade pierced him, and for a few seconds the world went black. He had been stabbed before, multiple times in fact. He had long swords, short swords, daggers, and even shivs thrown into his body. This time however it was different. The blade cut his spinal cord, severed it and paralyzed him in an instant. He became helpless, entirely unaware and incapable of using his body. He wanted to scream, to kick, to punch, to lash out in anyway at all.

But he could not.

Pain flushed over his body again and again, and without any other support Soliael fell to his knee's, and then crumpled into a heap on the floor. He seemed to seizure slightly, shaking as the blade was pulled out from his spine by the fall. Blood began to seep into his clothing and onto the floor around him. It pooled quickly, but did not clot.

It seemed that his entire body was a font for the red liquid. He let out a deep shuttering breath as fear began to clutch him. His mind grasped at straws, tearing at itself. It tried to grab the force, to fix it, to help him survive.

He was like a child reaching for the top shelf. The force was out of his grasp, the energy he needed was out of his grasp. The light was fading, and all things he needed to survive were gone.

As he began to die Soliael saw something. He was shown himself, standing within a deep black void on one side a raging river of light blue, clean and pure. On the other side was a tree of pure blackness its branches stretching out into the infinity of the void, and In between them stood Soliael. He had a choice to make. The river so clean and pure, or the tree stretching out into the heavens. The river seemed to stretch miles away, over land impossible to cross, the tree however stood just within arms reach of him.

It seemed to call to him, whisper his name ever so quietly, like a seductress. Soliael blinked as he felt his life fade away, his entire being slip from himself. He looked to the river, and shook his head.

In complete silence Soliael turned to the tree, and forsook all bonds to the light.

Energy surged through him. The darkside peeled beneath his skin. It knit together his flesh and crawled throughout him like an avaricious beast. His eyes snapped open. Thousands of tiny black specs crossed his iris', hundreds of them obscuring the light within his pale orange eyes. Pain wracked his body as the darkside flowed through him, hurt and anger fell into him like never before. His entire being seemed to come apart.

Within a few seconds however Soliael lay still on the ground in a pool of his own blood, his wounds healed and the light returned to his eyes.

 

[Dissero]

Pale blue eyes watched the procedings balefully in the fathomless dark of the chamber. The sounds of death did not echo in here, but seemed to become absorbed into the absolution. Something in the room was drawing on the lifesource of Devin Shamalain, and that something remained seething dark entropy in the hands of the Archivist.

The Truesword had not tasted a victim in quite some time and it was eager, so eager, to feast.

Dissero planted the tip of the blade to the floor and waited with a strangely bated patience for fate to unfold before him. There would be hell to pay if Soliael did not have the gift. Likely the man would die, and what a humbling death it would be. The reparations were something Dissero was fully aware of, but with the wild Truesword at hand and still so completely unpredictable he could not spare any effort worrying about them.

Something in the air changed then. So subtle that even he had barely managed to sense it - but the sudden growing anger of the weapon at his fingertips assured him of his initial belief. Dissero silently padded away and sealed the blade back in its chamber, leaving the blood of Soliael on its edge to sate the growing rage within it. It would not feed tonight.

When the man returned to Soliael's side to find the breath of life returned to him he cracked a dark smile, "What is the last Meditation Stone, Devin?"

 

[Soliath Devin Talith]

“Self” The word barely slipped out of Soliaels mouth. He felt his heart racing, his blood pump through his veins. He heard his own heart beat. There was a deep scowl on his face as he felt his chest rise and fall over and over again in a rhythmic motion. He thought about what had just happened, what it all meant.

He thought back to the tree, back to the river, back to the field of everlasting blackness. It already seemed like an age ago, even though only a minute had passed. There was something now plaguing his mind, something pushing at him and yet pulling at the same time. He did not understand any of it yet, nor did he think he really wanted to.

Soliael wondered if Oma or Dissero's first experience with Sith Magic had been the same, if they had been presented with a similar choice...or if they had just dove in. He did not quite understand why he had been given a choice at all, he had always been born of the Darkside. He blinked a few times, trying to think. Perhaps it had been because of his father, perhaps the old man's spirit had been trying to stop him from following his path.

He let out a deep laugh at that, choking on the blood that had entered his throat. He turned onto his side and began to cough, spitting out nearly black sludge.

Finally after a few minutes Soliael finally stood, his new clothes completely ruined. “Thank you.”

He said into the darkness.

 

[Dissero]

"You're welcome," said Dissero's voice from behind Soliael again. Seconds later the door of the chamber hissed open, the pale light revealing there to be no blood where the man had fallen in the clutches of his new Mistress. The Truesword had drank it in eagerly.

"That's enough for today," the Archivist said as they strode back out into the hall. His voice definitive - he was a Master speaking to his Apprentice after all, "reflecting upon one's achievements are just as important as the achievements themselves. Thinking on the things that have transpired helps to hone the edge of the blade that is the mind. Knowledge is a powerful tool, Devin, but useful only to a sharp mind."

When they entered the lift again the air suddenly became much the clearer. The weight of power subsided as they ascended through the levels.

"You are welcome to all the knowledge of the archives. The vaults, I'm afraid, are mine to keep and tend," the man calmly tucked away the miniature holocron around his neck, "but should something within them become of interest, you need only ask."

 

[Soliath Devin Talith]

Soliael followed his uncle along, he was still very much within a haze. He still did not understand everything that had happened, but when the man spoke to him of other things he simply nodded. There was no other words that he could offer his Uncle, no other questions. For now he would like to seek his own answer. He paused for a few minutes as they reached the archives, and then he simply nodded to his uncle.

He knew that this place would be massive, that it would have nearly untold knowledge. There was much research he had to do here. Soliael knew that his uncle would likely want him to clean up a bit first, but his curiosity was now piqued and he needed answers. So the Sith simply gave a nod to his younger counterpart and strode off, not quite knowing what he was looking for amongst the thousands of texts.

~~

An entire night had passed on Rudrig now, and Soliael had seen none of it. He had been mired within the ancient texts that his uncles archives held. He sat still, his clothes now stiff with dried blood and his face haggard from lack of sleep. There seemed to be an expression of extreme interest on his face as he read page after page of books. There were dozens of thick novels surrounding him, each one seemed to be ancient beyond all belief.

They all had a range of languages, some were Sith, some were Basic, and others were in languages some in the galaxy had never seen. Inexplicably Soliael seemed to be capable of reading them all, and one after another he devoured their knowledge.

This had been his life for nearly a century. Back before he had entered the Pit this was all he had done. He enjoyed getting back to it, and he enjoyed having his questions answered. Most of the books arrayed before him were all ancient accounts of long dead Sth Sorceres, Men and women who had been through the same trial as he. In none of them he found recordings of a Tree or a River, he found no mention of such a test. This troubled him, as he had no idea why it had happened.

As he read on and on Soliael became deeper and deeper involved in the text, not even hearing the footsteps coming nearer to him.

 

[Dissero]

"My Assistant tells me you've been here all night," said Dissero with a small smirk as he arrived unannounced, "which is just as well. Means I don't have to wake you up."

The Archivist joined Soliael at the table, taking a seat opposite the man with a ponderous glance at the tomes strewn about. It brought a satisfied smile to his face.

"What have you found?" he queried with interest.

 

[Soliath Devin Talith]

It took Soliael a few moments to realize who was talking, and when he finally did his eyes snapped up. There seemed to be bags beneath them, showing that the apprentice was clearly tired. He frowned at his uncles question, considering what he had in fact learned over the last twelve hours or so.

“My experience was...different.” Soliael said simply, not sure how to explain it otherwise. A frown creased his face as he looked at one of the books next to him. He picked it up, and then slid it across the table towards his uncle. The book was a detailed accounts of one of the original 20 Sith who had left the Jedi order and discovered Korriban, and along with the world Sith magic.

These Sith had fallen to the use of Sith magic almost instantly. There had been no choice for them, no Tree of Darkness or River of light, none of that. “These men fell to corruption in an instant. Sith Sorcery took them, snatched them and then gave them power without a moment of hesitation. I...”

He stopped for a second, not wanting to appear weak in front of his Uncle.

“...Was given a choice.” He went out on a limb, hoping he could trust Merovign.

 

[Dissero]

"Ah, yes, Korriban's awakening."

Dissero knew this particular article well. Most Sith of study did. It detailed the origins of one of the birthplaces of the Darkside, so many said. The Archivist gave the book a cursory glance but needed nothing more to recall its contents. His attention landed firmly on the man seated across form him and at his words Dissero looked pensive. The man rubbed at his chin, considering these things.

"There are many interpretations of the Force that stem from dozens of cultures and races. Their histories vary enough that they conjure different stories, but all seem to end up in the same place. What we know," the man clasped his hands together, "is that the Force encompasses all things. Great and small, old and young, sentient and non, and it has for as long as we can remember. The fact that you were given a choice is, while very interesting, not entirely surprising. It is your own life's way of interpreting this arcane power that we, even the Elder Masters, have failed to fully describe."

"My last Master was hellbent on bringing an end to the Force because it was a power that we as sentient beings, could not fully comprehend. He was not so much interested in the power of it, but the source of it, which none of us have come to discover. The thing I've learned is that you must approach it with an open mind. The Force is not just black and white, not even shades of grey. It is a riot of colors in this dreary gray existence."

The grin on the man's face spoke of his complete and unfettered enthusiasm to this knowledge. Moridin had instilled the same curiosity in Dissero, though to a far lesser degree. Or perhaps, a more sane degree.

 

[Soliath Devin Talith]

He pondered Dissero's words for a time, trying to wrap his mind around them. Of course the force was incomprehensible. It was fast, everlasting, and completely eternal. It was difficult to understand if how he was capable of using it, and he had long since given up trying to understand why people were able to use it to such an amazing degree.

When Merovign mentioned his old masters quests Soliael perked an eyebrow slightly, what kind of insanity brought a man to try and end the force? Such a thing was entirely impossible, even Soliael knew that. Crazy Sith and their goals. He mused on the particular Masters identity, though did not question after it. Of course Soliael ahd no way of knowing that Dissero was speaking of Moridin. Slowly Soliael ran his hand backwards through his thick raven black hair, unknotting it where the blood stuck it together.

“I was placed into a black void.” Soliael said explaining the options that had been presented to him by god knows that. “I stood between two objects in the void. A Black tree whose branches seemed to curl out long into the darkness, and a glowing blue river, pure as glass.”

Soliael didn't mention what option he chose, that part was a bit obvious in hindsight.

“Does the Tree mean anything? I mean besides the obvious. Is there a connection? It's what i've been searching for.” Soliael frowned slightly as he looked at the pages of the books before him.

 

[Dissero]

The Archivist looked at the man, brows raising with growing interest.

"A tree could stand for many things. The essence of a tree is one of life, growth, prosperity, knowledge, and the ability to adapt, survive, absorb what life has to offer in order to produce something of value. But a black tree, with curling branches? That," he tapped at his chin, "that could have a deeper meaning."

The man lifted his hands to his collar where he untied the top portion of his robes, pulling at the cloth to reveal the middle of his upper chest. There on the sternum Soliael would see a black mark burned into his skin - the tree of life. The very same he would have seen burned into the back left shoulder blade of Quietus, the back right shoulder blade of Silencia, and painted across the front hull of Blackthorne, his mother's prize ship.

"Did they ever tell you what this represents?" Dissero asked his nephew.

 

[Soliath Devin Talith]

“No.” The older of the two men said with hazy eyes. He had seen the same mark on both his mother and his Oma. He had always meant to ask what they were, but it always slipped his mind. Part of him had always assumed it was some sort of familial sign, a way to tell that someone was within the Shamalain family...although if that was the case why he never got it was beyond him. Perhaps it was his lack of sleep, though he doubted that.

The Force had been a surprise companion this night, and it had kept him awake and alert like never before. Still he found it rather difficult to focus on the memory of the strange brand, unable to recall ever even having a conversation about it with either of his maternal figures. “I had assumed it was a family Sigil of some sort.”

He decided to just throw out his guessing, hoping that he was at least close. It was clear from the look in his eye that he was rather interested in the coming conversation however.

 

[Dissero]

"Not quite," Dissero replied, drawing his hands from his collar and letting the cloth settle as it may.

"This is a Sigil of a long dead faction known as the Dark Sith Order. It is the Cosmic Tree - a symbol that stands for the continuity of life, knowledge, energy, power, philosophy, and the connection between them all. It stood for the Order's desire to expand to its truest potential by all means necessary. It was used to brand those who had proven themselves after passing their Knighthood trials, those who would then begin their journey to what my mother calls a Pilgrimage of Enlightenment. As they grew stronger of mind, body and soul the branches of the Sigil would grow. As they gained more knowledge and expanded their horizons and understanding, so too did the roots grow."

Dissero's own brand held signs of growth; both the branches and the roots having pushed through the containing circle, stretching slowly across his chest and upwards towards the base of his neck.

"Sadly this Order ceased to exist whereupon it merged with the larger Sith Empire of old. The tradition was discarded, but the idea behind it lives on, as you can see. It was an idea crafted by my mother in her youth and if you asked her she would tell you it stands for a great deal more than simply the Darkside." he gestured to Soliael with a nod, "your black tree could very well be a symbol of this ideal. It means you are meant for something great."