Crafting the Dark for the Light

[Matreya]

Sweat. Chills. Haunting whispers in the darkness...

Damien sat bolt upright in bed. Glancing to his side, he saw the empty space that his wife was supposed to fill. But she had been gone for a time now, and would return when she was ready...

Or would she?

One of the few talents Damien possessed that he hated, was prophetism. To be able to discern outcomes effected the plans he made. Yet in that dream, if it could be called such, he was in a room... where he had no idea. Den was breaking things, while screaming...

Someone blamed him for whatever ailed her...

He had barely managed to catch the name Metus when he awoke. Her father had spoken it, as he heard her scream at him, begging for assistance.

Propping a knee up, he rested his head against his hands on the angled surface, "Why didn't you speak to me about this..?" He asked the wind. [member="Deneve Verd"] was his wife, his love, yet hadn't trusted him with the knowledge that the darkness wanted to control her.

It was a dangerous thing. Zaiden James, his rival, had been in the same situation. He had been controlled, forced into wielding darker arts than most ever learned of. The God King of Val'hala had slain billions to make an army that would march on Annaj. Had it not been for his death, the Lords of the Fringe would likely have to this day been facing the hordes released upon unsuspecting planets.

He wouldn't allow the same to happen to his wife.

According to Zaiden, the effects began as visions, leading to wracking pain, haunting memories surfacing. Every layer of the attack building until it cascaded upon the mind in a flood that couldn't be stopped.

With a sigh, Damien hurled the covers aside, then rose from the bed. Donning a pair of loose pants, he ignored everything else as he raced through the palace toward the basement. Once there, he raised a hand to touch a blank wall. The response was immediate: the illusion broken, it revealed a door that bore blinding light on the perimeter edges.

 

[Matreya]

Stepping into the super heated area of his personal Forge, Damien resealed the door behind him. The runes of concealment glowed brightly as he slid a had over them. Such a place as a Master Alchemist's Forge was noticeable if left to the detection of preying eyes. Hence his protective covering of Taozin hide, combined with Sith Runes, and Runes of Power.

Each layer of the room designed to contain the power that could be crafted within.

Stepping to a table, he brushed aside loose sheets of parchment. Pressing a button on the display that hunt from the lip, he watched the holoarray light up. Reaching a hand inward, he spread his fingers wide, allowing the image to zoom out.

On screen was a scythe like blade with a ball and chain attachment.

He chuckled, "Good try, that one." Next he brought both hands inwardly to a clap like motion that closed that image.

Stepping to another he turned it on, found amongst the small cluttered together designs one he sought, gripped the hologram then tossed it across the table to the adjacent that he had been to prior. Like this sifting continued, some small holodesigns were kept but most were moved aside. The basic idea was gathering the many plans he had made recently, but never enacted just yet.

They would be combined into a single tool.

Stepping back to the first he paused with a sigh, murmuring, "I love you, [member="Deneve Verd"]." He said with more vehemence than he wanted. The Force would carry the words along their Bond directly to her ears alone..

Then he grinned, "Might wanna talk to her about a last name change. She is a daemon after all now.",