Private Different Perspectives

[Illian Dragos]

Naboo, the capital of the Confederacy. If someone wanted information, this was the place. For Illian, self-learning was a great motivating for seeking information.

A few weeks had passed since his arrival in the Confederacy. He had sought all the information he could find on the force, but the information was not enough. There were too many different perspectives to adopt a position. At the moment, the only way left was seeking an instructor. And since the Cataclysm, there were far, in between. That was, until he found out about the Solanaceae.

The Epicanthix was not aware of the of the Nightsisters, or the witches for that matter. They were rare on Nar Shadaa and Wild Space. For him though, they provided an opportunity for him to learn a rare perspective on the force, or anything for that matter - for when a man seeks knowledge, he would take what he could find. And that was why he was on Naboo, looking at one of the Solanaceae facilities across Confederacy Space.

It was here that questions were answered, and he had many creeping in his mind.

Vytal Noctura

 

[Vytal Noctura]

"All are welcome," a woman's voice announced from behind Illian's right shoulder, "and all is shared." One of Vytal's green eyes peered over at the man as she stood facing off to his right behind him.

Was it impolite to conceal one's presence until they revealed their self behind another? Perhaps, but Nightsisters did not concern themselves with appearances. What use was there in dancing about a topic, or implying what could be easily conveyed? Though that did not mean a Witch would reveal all their secrets to those that asked. The question was whether a person was worthy of such knowledge. Fortunately for Illian, the Solanaceae shared what it knew -- at the level members of its academic or spiritual family could handle.

A spirit or two had been loitering about the man as he drew nearer to the Covenstead of Naboo. Naturally, being outdoors to bask in the sun -- even if it were a yellow star -- the Nightmother could not overlook such a curiosity. Inquisitive souls belied an inquisitive mind, though to what end remained to be seen.

A faint smile graced her lips for a moment. "I am Vytal Noctura. What is it you seek, Brother from a Sunless World?"

Tag: Illian Dragos

 

[Illian Dragos]

Its true they are witches everywhere

Illian was unfazed at the site of a shadow, but a slight uneasiness crept inside him. He did not know what to expect, especially from a group that he did not know much from. Remembering how far he had come, he chose to go in. At least he knew he would not be a dead man tonight; perhaps that was for another time.

Illian analyzed the room. It was not as small as he expected, and there were not that many things here. Other than that, there was nothing odd he noticed. At least, for now anyway.

"I am Illian Dragos, Knights Squire. I came here for knowledge. To quell the questions I have. Teach me how you view the force." In a demanding tone, he analyzed her, wondering what the Nightmother's response would be.

Vytal Noctura

 

[Vytal Noctura]

"You, that has only begun to open their eyes, seek now to stare into the sun?" Of course the request wasn't so binary, but given the man's tone anything reasonable would probably be considered a mere parlor trick. "Very well, Brother. Steel your soul."

The doors banged shut behind him. A draft swept about Illian's body and soon snuffed out the candles that lined the room. Day as it sought to pierce the room soon became night, and the shadows grew to encompass all. Even the warmth of the air was soon stolen from between the man's lips.

"You have no doubt heard those speak of the Force as being everywhere and everything." Vytal's voice sounded from the abyss that had enveloped the world. "That it moves through you. That you can control it. Sculpt it. To lift rocks. To trick the senses. To even anticipate the actions of others before they themselves are aware of what they will do."

"Do you know what it is that most Jedi and Sith lack, Brother?" As she continued to speak, tendrils of energy soon began to pierce the emptiment around Illian. They began to grow and form the shapes of chairs, pillars, walls, and the ceiling that'd been overhead before all had vanished. "The ability to see the Force. Look around you. Watch as the energy flows even in the very air you breathe. How the smallest thing is made from it. How you are made from it. It is everywhere. It is everything. In this life and the next."

Slowly the Nightmother's figure flared into being from a green and black column of flame. "When I speak of Spirits those that wield the Force look upon we as a merchant would the Jedi or Sith. The words do not reach them, but it is all the same, Brother. Just because you cannot touch, taste, hear, see, or smell it does not mean it is not always there. That they," faint visages of the dead faded into being along the perimeter of the room, "are not always there."

"Is this what you wish to learn? Or do you fear losing the ability to sleep at night believing you are alone?"

Tag: Illian Dragos

 

[Illian Dragos]

He looked own as he listened to Vytal Noctura 's explanation. Hearing the change in her voice, he was not afraid. Although, he felt like vomiting. For some reason, his body was afraid, yet he mentally was not. The whole entire atmosphere had changed. It was cold, very cold. Maybe even more colder than staying without a heating suit on Hoth.

Was this the force? Was it even real? Things, material, furniture, whatever... it all came out of thin air without any process of it being made. He couldn't believe it. Illian observed with a keen curiousity as he looked around. Different lights appeared all around the air; dead men walked in this very room. A part of him wanted to think it was real, but he could not believe it. It had to be fake. There was nothing like this he had learned in his deep study.

When she asked him the question, he laughed. She had a funny wit, but that was all he saw. He would not have his time wasted.

"I thought by coming here, I would learn something different. Yet." coughing, as he wondered if he was making a mistake. "it is clear that I wasted my time here. You and all your sisters are crazy witches, attempting to bring me to illusions. You may have fooled many men, but you will not fool me." Rising up, he felt the anger he had allow him to be able to control his body.

Vylan would see a man who stood firm, unwavering in conviction.

At least, that was what he thought he was.

 

[Vytal Noctura]

A slow, heavy breathe passed Vytal's black lips. "Winged Goddess grant me the patience to suffer the insolence of men," the Nightmother spoke softly. It always seemed to be their way. Offer them the light of the Goddess only to be demanded to reveal the passion of the Fanged God. There were times she wished to scream 'You see now why the Nightsisters do not waste their time teaching the Nightbrothers such things?'

Yet, Vytal would be a fool not to recognize there were men with the aptitude for the Art. A seeming, blessed few. Those whom the Nightmother had an obligation to teach provided they could dispense with their preconceived notions -- such as the sisters being 'crazy witches.' A notion that served them in keeping fools away, certainly, but at times like these a trying one.

"Very well." The Pale Witch lifted her chin as her hands rose at her sides. "If you cannot believe your own eyes, I will teach you these things in a language you know best." Words, thoughts, and conviction were what the Sisters believed best. Toil was merely a means of instilling such into their very marrow so as to never be forgot. So many offworlders, however, required toil as the means of conveying truth rather than merely one to cement it. This it seemed would be such an encounter.

A Nightsister was not unaccustomed to plying their ire toward such a task. There were some that excelled at it. Of questionable wisdom in goading the Nightmother to show her aptitude in such ways.

Heat returned to the world all at once. More than had been there before. The darkness fled as a new reality took its place -- one of a sickly green, endless field of energy dotted by black platforms of broken rock. Illian stood upon a large platform whose top had been smoothed, but was covered in small and medium sized cracks alike across its surface. Meanwhile Vytal had appeared upon another, one that floated ten feet in the air.

"Akicita, Akisni, Econs, Icachi, Nama, Nigetakiya, Ozuye." As she called out the names of the Great Spirits they appeared. Two to the left, two to the right, one in front, and one behind at the edges of the platform. The seventh, Ozuye, appeared but twenty feet away before Illian. A Spirit of a Great Warrior it grinned razor sharp teeth as the green flames of its eyes beheld the man before him.

Ozuye lifted a foot and brought it down upon the surface with such force the ground trembled and splintered. "Illusion?" The Spirit tilted its head back in a bark of a laugh. "Let's see how many pieces it takes before you wish it were so!" A long and wide blade suddenly appeared in its hand before both spirit and blade shot across the distance toward Illian.

Tag: Illian Dragos

 

[Illian Dragos]

Illian stood grounded. His dark eyes staring at her, in a serious demeanor, he was issuing his Vytal Noctura through his body.

"Do your worst."

It was better to wish for death than to experience it.

With a crazed look, his eyes were transfixed with horror, staring in complete shock at the spirits that were being summoned. Widened in alarm, his eyes attempted to dart around, looking for an escape. But they were trapped. His eyes could not move at what was the instrument of his impending death.

Tension grew all over his body as his muscles stiffened. Paralyzed with fear, a rush of adrenaline flooded his body, the Squire feeling like his heart was about to explode. But that was not all, his hand constantly twitched, the Squire's lips thin and firm as they lost their moisture. Illian's mouth opened; attempting to scream, it remained opened. Petrified in horror, it was as if his natural instincts were completely immobilized.

Time stopped, as he past memories flooded his mind. They were completely firm, unable to move. Any attempt at moving his legs would be a wasted effort; they were to heavy to even move. In particular, he could remember the news about the death of his parents.In comparison to his previous focused posture, he was unable to think clearly or focus. It was as if his mind had became it's own living thing; being directed without any input from his will. A rush of emotions flooded him; he felt at times that he was in a dream-like state, but he also knew that it was real.

Overcome with an inability to focus, his mind was frozen with fear. It was as if the conviction he once had had just evaporated. Or perhaps it was a mind trick that had been played by the famed Nightmother to show him the true depths of her power.

Visibly, he began to sweat blood. The emotional stress had completely destroyed any movement from his will. Terror had stabbed his heart and his mind, his legs became were like bricks, to heavy to initiate any movement.

Oh Death. Did you come for Illian when he had not yet lived?

As he saw the Ozuye rushed toward him, he attempted to speak. But his mouth could not move. Every faculty of his being was paralyzed, and he was left at the mercy of Vytal.

What would she do?

 

[Vytal Noctura]

As the Great Warrior bore down upon the man whose body seemed to tremble with the desire to move, yet it lacked the ability to do so, the Pale Witch's lips moved. The massive blade swept around from over the Great Spirit's shoulder. The tip of the sword alone was as wide as a short sword was long belying its hunger to cleave into soft tissues. An edge that rose to great heights before it tumbled down toward the frozen figure at its tend mercy.

The clang of metal sounded through the deep at what seemed Illian's final moment as a member of the Living. Akicita, a woman adorned in form-fitting leather and metal armor had appeared before and to the left of the man. Her right hand caught Ozuye's blade; it had nestled itself in the webbing of her thumb. The gaze of the two Spirits met in silence.

A short figure drifted in close to Illian with soft mutterings of disbelief. "Yare yare." His golden gaze held the warmth of a Spring dawn and a smile of Summers gone by. Both hands took one of Illian's and held it close to his chest. "The Ultimate Sword meets the Ultimate Shield. Don't worry, you won't bare any physical harm today." A growing warmth would spread through Illian's body to wipe away the strain imposed on his flesh from the sheer stress suffered.

"What you saw before," Vytal announced as she strode across the same plane as Illian and the Spirits now, "was a window into another world. This," her right hand idly swept out to the side, "is the Nether. One shape of it. Filled with countless souls of many purposes. Some to protect," she nodded to Akicita, "some to fight," another nod to Ozuye, "and some to heal," and a final nod to Akisni. "The Solanaceae commune with the seven you see before you. They hear your words and come to your aid, if you need it. They are not the 'worst' one could conjure from the Deep, but then," the Witch stopped a few feet away, "I see no reason for you to suffer needlessly."

Akicita nodded in agreement with the sentiment. Slowly she released Ozuye's blade, and the Warrior stepped back with a grunt. No doubt disappointed there'd be no battle that lasted days on end.

Tag: Illian Dragos

 

[Illian Dragos]

As the Great Warrior approached Illian, he clenched his fist in fear. His shoulders approaching his neck, the Squire closed his eyes in response to the ever close presence of Ozuye. For some odd reason, perhaps because of the force's influence, he knew when Ozuye would strike. He did not know much about what happened after death, but he did not care. All he had was regret: after how far he had come, he would amount to nothing. Not even a footnote in galactic history.

And that was when he had a noise. Illian debated if he should open his eyes. There was someone else there other than Ozuye, that he knew. But if the other spirit was someone who would strike at him, he preferred to die not knowing what they planned. A momentary death was far better than one that was long, and grueling. He knew the famous tales of Nightsisters and the torturing of their captives. Or maybe it was a rumor, or he was confusing the Nightsisters and the Sith. Either way, he was happy not finding out.

But this presence was different. He could feel his fear going away. Illian's hand were no longer clenched in fear; the tension in his body was dissipating, as well as his mind recovering from the stress he had just endured. The young warrior felt warmth all around his body. He could feel a great sense of consolation, and perhaps even happiness.

On the other hand, his mind, while also regaining its previous demeanor, wondered what was going on. Was this what the force could do? He had never studied this in the library, reinforcing his belief that experience would always trump study.

Standing up, he looked at the spirits. He saw Ozuye, the man that had nearly killed him, and his savior, Akicita. Gazing at each of them, he looked in awe at the power they had. Illian also wondered if he had perhaps chosen the wrong branch of the Knights Obsidian. It was something to ponder at least, but he reminded himself he needed to focus on the conversation now.

"Tell me, how can someone conjure search power. How do you begin communing with this spirits?" he said, this time his tone was respectful, while he made sure to maintain, with all his strength, as much eye contact with Vytal Noctura as possible. Every social norm of respect he knew would be practiced. He did not want to offend her again. Only the force knew what would happen next.

Stepping back, he made sure not to fall from where he was. Even with the warmth he had received, he was still fearful of the spirits. And perhaps it would remain forever.

 

[Vytal Noctura]

Well, it seemed being thrust into the fire had helped. Vytal couldn't say it was the best way to introduce someone to the spiritual world, but then even she -- who should have known better -- did something similar to herself back on Dathomir once. Some things you only learned by making a grievous error before the right people at the right time. An element of fortune one should never rely upon as a repeatable means of instruction.

"Know thyself." The Pale Witch regarded the man for a long moment. "What you believe. What you wish to become and why. You must understand these things so firmly and so clearly that if I demanded you to describe them to me here and now you would do so without hesitation. Only then should you speak to the spirits as you see before you now." The Nightmother gestured to the specters still in attendance.

"If all you wish is to share secrets across the Veil, I could teach you how to quiet your mind to listen and speak through the Veil." Given his interest in power, however, Vytal doubted he'd be content with mere conversation.

"You only obtain the power of the spirits through communion and pacts. Agreements to which you are bound to the letter, and which can at times hold more meaning than what seems evident. It is their power that a Witch wields and does so beyond the means of most of equal skill level; for a spirit is not constrained by the limits of living flesh." All matters that took time, of course. Being a Witch was not an easy path toward greatness. Many Sith thought that believing they could steal the knowledge of Nightsisters and emerge an unrivaled powerhouse. There was raw power, of course, but it did not matter if you possessed the galaxy's largest power source if you had nothing capable of utilizing it fully, or possessing something able to utilize great power and lacking the power to fuel it.

With the framework of the path ahead set before him, Vytal asked, "Why did you see the Solanaceae out?" What did Illian want? What were his aims?

Tag: Illian Dragos

 

[Illian Dragos]

The young squire listened as she spoke. Her words hit him like a dagger, Contemplating her words he began to self-reflect on his journey, and who he was. In a sense, he didn't know his life purpose or his plan. Illian was only aware that he wanted revenge on a certain someone for how he had entered the Confederacy. If he had accomplished that, what then? Even if he knew that he wished to protect the billions of people in the galaxy, to base his entire life on that mission alone wasn't enough of a purpose for him to see he had lived a fulfilled life.

Perhaps he wished not to be forgotten; for his name to live on in galactic history as various Jedi and Sith Masters had. Or he possibly wished to have a new family, something worthy to protect. Either way, he knew one thing: Illian was finding his path. He did not have an idea what he would do, or how his life would pan out. There were disadvantages to this, but he had one thing he never had: freedom. Every choice he made was because he had chosen to do it without coercion. And he wouldn't give up this freedom for a second.

"I had come here to learn about the force."

Sitting down, he began to elaborate further.

"I don't know much about it. I'm still trying to grasp the different perspectives and philosophies of each sect. The Sith, the Jedi, even your Nightsisters: there are many views on this things. That's one reason why I came here."

Looking directly at Vytal, he knew she would probably know what his ulterior motives were. It was best to let it be revealed now.

"I also desire to grow stronger, to gain power. To be prepared for future trials, I know that I need this. I suppose I came here for clarity, and for strength. "

How she'd react to his answers, he couldn't wait to find out.

Vytal Noctura .

 

[Vytal Noctura]

Vytal listened to the man's words. She made no effort to sit with him just yet as he revealed what he knew of his own intentions. They were not shocking by any means; though in fact most of them were welcome.

Slowly the Pale Witch brushed the front of her outfit as if it required dusting or smoothing of any kind. She knelt down on the ground before Illian and stared across the short, intervening distance between them. "The Jedi believe in the lack of Self. The Sith are the embodiment of the Self. Witches are neither. Everything you have seen is The Force." Vytal lifted a hand to gesture at their surroundings. "One manifestation of it. Jedi and Sith rarely concern themselves with this layer of Creation believing in the invisible currents of energy and Will, but it is all derived from what you see here."

"The Solanaceae accept all that seek to learn more of the world around them. We are not an exclusive club, but a family of students of the mysteries of our existence. Seeking power is a worthy goal provided you respect that power. Many that seek it fail to learn of its dangers and becomes slaves to it. Such is what the Nightsisters see when they gaze upon most Sith -- fallen, deprave creatures that fail to understand what is within their reach." A little personal opinion, but then anyone that knew the Nightsisters knew they were not terribly interested in being 'Besties' with... just about anyone. The Galactic Community only sowed confusion and doubt into what the Sisters knew to be true through personal communion on their dark, 'backwater' world. Technology was as much a curse as it was a blessing from what Vytal had seen. No doubt a little irony from the gods.

"Why do you want power? What trials have you foreseen on the Path ahead?" Or had they been foreshadowed by the Path the man had already walked? It would be good to understand the one with whom she conversed. There was much they could learn from one another.

Tag: Illian Dragos

 

[Illian Dragos]

In a sense, what she said was true. The Jedi's focus on self-ascetism and serving others permitted them not to focus on themselves. For Illian, he often wondered why so many chose to give up their own dreams and desires; they had a powerful tool to accomplish it. That was why he agreed with the Sith's notions of having your limits surpassed; Illian considered the force a tool to accomplish dreams.

During his own studies on the philosophies of each order, he had found a via media, a middle road to be what he believed to be the best approach. The young warrior believed in serving others, but he also saw the force as a means to an end. To be honest, the more he considered it, the more he found himself agreeing with the Sith Code, at least in some aspects anyway.

And then there were the Nightsisters. Certainly, they were wielders of great power, and had produced some of the greatest force users in galactic history. Yet, unlike the Jedi, he appreciated them for having a perspective to seeing the force as a whole; like the Jedi however, they saw it was some god, a mysterious impersonal life force that governed the world around them. He questioned his decision to joined his current chapter under the Knights Obsidian, but he didn't see himself being a Nightbrother.

Then again, anyone could be convinced. He certainly had many times when it seemed impossible.

Her question was deep. A reserved man, he preferred to only tell his path to those that had earned it by earning his trust. Illian chose to answer it without going into too much detail without trying to annoy her. That wasn't a mistake he intended to ever do again.

"There are trials that I have experienced my entire life. In many of those instances, I either ended up failing, or being victorious. But when it affected other people around me, I most definitely ended up failing. I don't want to fail again. Another reason is because I seek to bring justice to those that have wronged other people, including me." he said. The latter sentence was a good way to rephrase his desire to eliminate the apprentice of the Vicelord for what she had done to him. If there was one blessing to Illian's life, it was his mind being protected. Only the force knew how he would have survived if he wasn't born an Epicanthix, especially when he was such an easy person to read.

Vytal Noctura

 

[Vytal Noctura]

"Justice," Vytal hissed softly. "Be wary too strong a zeal for justice, Illian. Few things are ever black-and-white among the living. There will be times when your justice is called to task -- when the guilty must be given reprieve so that a greater crime is not committed. You do not need to accept my words now. There will come a time, and you will understand." It was justice that drove many a Jedi Order to their graves. A desire to bring Peace and Order to the galaxy. It was not the way of Witches. Certainly not the Solanaceae, anyway. Such a thing distracted the mind and soul from the truth. Though Vytal was not inconsiderate to why one might be led to help the faceless masses. She accepted such Witches among their number even if she sought to temper their cold passion.

"Very well." A smile played across her black lips. "I will teach you how to listen to yourself and to Creation. We have many things in common with both Jedi and Sith, which you may come to see. Stillness allows you to hear the voices of this world and the next. Passion grants you the strength to wield the power manifested from there. This will take time, but you are still young. I see no reason you cannot learn how to protect those you care for most, and to pursue your sense of justice."

"There are covens throughout the Confederacy. If duty calls you away, know there is often a sanctuary of Sisters and Brothers that will continue your training wherever life takes you," the Nightmother added. There was no need for him to forego his training because the distance was too vast between where he was and Ryloth. Though there were many more specialists on Ryloth (or even Naboo) those scattered among the worlds would quite knowledgeable as well.

She extended a hand out toward the man. "Now, then, describe your sense of justice. We can begin to understand the rock upon which you've chosen to stand, and progress from there." The vast, broken landscape began to fade and soon the World of the Living returned to their senses. The two of them sitting or kneeling in the room where they'd met.

Tag: Illian Dragos

 

[Illian Dragos]

He doubted he would understand. The way Lavria Xedrim had brought him to the Confederacy was something that demanded his own form of justice: no mercy, just an execution. How would the Nightmother respond when the person he wanted to bring justice to was the Apprentice of the Confederacy? Would the justice system be truly impartial to her, or would she get away? For Illian, he was done with letting people get away with hurting him.

As he considered her statements more, there was a sense in which he agreed with her. When considering children who entered crime, he was much more sympathetic to them. He was one of the few people who'd grown up in poverty, and at least from his experience, had never attempted to obtain an illicit source of income. But he couldn't imagine a time when the guilty had to be reprieved in order for a greater crime to be committed.

Maybe I will understand someday.

Smiling at her acceptance, he felt like a beam of energy had entered him. It was odd considering she'd give him a near-death experience, but he was truly happy. To him, his pursuit for power had officially began. And who better than a member of the Obsidian Council.

On the other hand, he later felt a sense of wary around her. As he thought about it, he felt that her teaching methods, even if it was only one class, would be extremely unique. Illian tried to hide the sense of dread that he felt. He felt like he needed a bucket. It was as if his stomach wanted to blow up, attempting to recollect himself so he didn't vomit.

If the force is a god, please help me.

Touching his knees, he breathed in a slow fashion, slowly returning back to his previous state. Smiling, he attempted to fake a response. But the fear was in the back of his mind.

At least I get to practice my acting.

Illian saw the environment change. He looked around and so a bathroom.

"I'll be right back..." he said, the descend from his previous height not helping him at all. Going to the gents' area, he turned on the water, before he vomited.

Those breathing techniques don't work. So much for the holonet.

As he knelt down and finished vomitting, he was happy that none of it had gone to any of his clothes. Fortunately, there were also breath fresheners, taking one and chewing it inside his mouth. Now he really didn't want to go back and see her again. But what if she scared him again for being late. His mind was going crazy at what she'd do. What if she tried to invade his mind, or transport him somewhere else. Clenching his fist, he decided to go back. The only thing he knew was that it would prepare him for his future trials; that was the only reason why he didn't try and get out through the window.

Walking slowly to Vytal Noctura , he knelt down, his legs felt tired, as if they were going to fall asleep. But his mind was still working- his main goal not to annoy her. The emotional roller-coaster he'd been on showed him that he had so much to learn. Illian would never be a proper warrior until he got control of his emotions. That, and he feared the Nightmother very much.

"Umm..." he said, somewhat nervous to speak.

"When I think of my brand of justice, I think of the people that are taken advantage off. For example, a crime lord and his goons; they should be eliminated by whatever means necessary. I guess my sense of justice is no mercy for those that responsible for crimes against other people, especially those in the lower class." His statements would be broken up to convey his nervousness.

What a great class it was to be in.

 

[Vytal Noctura]

The Pale Witch waited as Illian made haste out of her presence. She also waited until the man was out of sight before the smallest of smiles graced her lips. It came not from thinking less of him, but from understanding just how jarring the entire experience could be to the uninitiated. Jedi and Sith Apprentices were not put through such a thing, but Nightsisters were. Those with talent. Not every Nightsister commanded legions of spirits even if the women of Dathomir did not mind people believing such.

Evidently not frightened out of his wits, Illian did return, which was worthy of respect. Some would have fled given the opportunity to do so. Questioned whether involving themselves in this pursuit was wise or whether they would survive with their mind intact. That a man chose to do this was especially poignant to a Nightsister. Some would have done everything to drive him away, but Vytal was not such. Not any more. Once, when she was new to the Confederacy perhaps.

"No mercy," Vytal replied calmly and with a slight nod. "Simple. Straightforward. Effective." And prone to the same circumstance she'd cautioned him on only moments ago. There was no need to bellyache about what might happen or could befall him, however. Either Illian had heard her and would apply the knowledge when or if the time came, or he would not. Most things were best learned or best remembered through personal trials.

"Then your mind must be clear, Illian. Focused. You understand what is a crime, and would know the perpetrator from the victim." This was an opportunity for him to object or express doubt. A Witch didn't speak to hear her own voice -- Fanged God knew she heard more than enough voices from all the spirits that haunted her. "You can use such clarity. There are times to reflect and question your actions -- to learn from them -- but too many lack structure to their thoughts or their actions. It speaks to a chaotic and disorderly mind."

The Nightmother slowly knelt down and extended her hands out to the man. "Take my hands and close your eyes." She waited for Illian to do so, and would firmly instruct him to follow her instruction again if need be. "Picture yourself on the paths of Naboo. The chill, damp air of a new morn as the sun just crests the tree tops. The earthy scent of fills the still air without sound. All is at peace. The city is yours, Illian. Where will you go?"

Tag: Illian Dragos

 

[Illian Dragos]

Indeed, it was effective, but it wasn't like he didn't head her words. He had spent his times reading about the adventures of Luke Skywalker working with the Sith to defeat Abeloth. There was truth in what she had told him. But he couldn't bring himself to waver from that path, especially after his experiences. To him, there were people who didn't deserve mercy, no matter the circumstance.

"I get what your saying. It's just.... very hard for me to accept it. Maybe I will someday when I experience it, but my world has always been black and white. That's how I've been raised, and my life so far has always had two clear choices." There was more he could say, but he didn't trust her yet. Yet, every time he spoke, he kept looking down, never meeting her eyes. Maybe with his mind in multiple places, some details of his life might slip up.

And that was when he had gotten the weirdest request. You want me to touch your hands after what you did. Please... someone help me. But it was a cry for help no one would hear. Like in the majority of his life, he was all alone, facing the trials without any help. A comforting fact for him was that he'd survive the experience. Yet, a part of him was also curious as to what she'd reveal to him. And who was she? What had made her the way she was? Perhaps he'd get his answers in due time.

Kneeling with her, his index fingers first touched her hands. Looking around, he didn't see any weird spirits. And the same process would go on again, and again, until their hands finally met. While he should be looking at her, he still looked around in the air. He didn't want to close his eyes. He couldn't. Not with her at least. Not unless she promised him something.

"No spirits. No incarnations. Nothing. Please." It was a cry for help. He sounded like a man on the verge of tears, and perhaps he was, but it was the fear inside him that spoke. It wasn't a demand, it was a request; an emotional appeal from someone who was broken to his master, or whatever she was. While one might wonder if his assurance would assuage him, he was looking for some form of hope, some assurance. Even it was a lie, for Illian, it would calm him a bit, at least for now.

Vytal Noctura

 

[Vytal Noctura]

Vytal stared at the man for a moment. Was that a plea? To not involve spirits? He would learn nothing that way. The reason he'd come here would go unmet and all his 'suffering' would have been in vain. The Nightmother could not abide such failure. Sharing information was one of the cornerstones of the Solanaceae -- the exposure to and embracing of new thoughts and new ideas. How could anyone hope to be anything more than what they were clinging to what was safe?

Nevertheless, she was not the monster most mistook her for. Oh, she was monstrous and would gladly grind those barring her path into dust, but Illian was not merely disturbed by what he'd seen only a few minutes ago. How could a man hope to learn anything if he was beyond the capacity of rational thought? She would be the greater fool to turn a blind eye to his condition.

"Very well, Illian, but listen well now: I will show you The Force in ways no Jedi or Sith has ever seen, but I will shield you from the spirits if," she paused for a single second to emphasize the word, "you do not release my hand until I tell you. If you let go before then, I can promise you nothing. Do you understand?" Spirits never left her presence. Some were thrilled just that someone could hear what they had to say. Others wanted to bargain. And in times like these, some were curious what a Witch was doing. Yet all of these Vytal could hide from the man during their... exploration. Unless he broke the circle. In touching the Nether his unshielded mind and soul would perceive the things he feared most. Vytal could restore the veil over his spiritual eyes, of course, but she would not accept responsibility for breaking any promise with the conditions so clearly spelt out.

With a soft sigh, her green eyes regarded Illian patiently. "You know your sense of justice, but you will need to come to accept the spiritual world if you desire to explore it on your own some day." Not right away if he cared for his own well-being, but he could be taught. "The realm Beyond is shaped by your thoughts and your emotions. The more turbulent they become, the more savage the Nether. It reflects who we are, and who we are can change one moment to the next while we're still alive."

Tag: Illian Dragos

 

[Illian Dragos]

Well.. he felt cold touching her hands, but it was an instruction he could follow. He could recollect himself at least to be able to follow that exercise.

Listening to her, he wondered if she spoke of death. She was right: he needed to conquer what he had, but he was young. He had plenty of time, and there was no way he could imagine he could do it with her; at least not for today.

Closing his eyes, he felt his imagination run wild. Naboo was a beautiful city with its lash forests, waterfalls, and other peices of natural beauty. Especially in Theed, he could feel how the people naturally were good. But he couldn't sense it, not yet at least. What would he do? He could be or do anything?

"The first thing I'd do is go and train. I want to grow in strength. Maybe I'll go to some entertainment facilities: I hear they offer free tanning facilities." he said. He instantly regretted saying that. Too afraid to look at her, his hands instantly got more colder. But he focused, doing whatever he could to feel like the time was speeding up.

"I'll go around executing justice for my people. Every crime lord, every bad man will fall to my blade. Even if it takes me a century, I will execute justice in the entire world. No one will feel crime anymore or suffer." he said.

He then clenched his fist, remembering how his family had passed. His blood was boiling, but he tried his best to stay calm, lest he suffer a similar fate to those that had crossed Vytal Noctura

 

[Vytal Noctura]

The Nightmother watched the man as he struggled to accept the circumstances in which he found himself. She felt the dizzying array of imagery projected about the landscape of Naboo in which he found himself. Heard his questions.

And heard his aspirations of strength training and sun tans.

"Good. One building after another. One city after another. You will cross the face of the world cutting or shooting down the criminals that take advantage of the innocent." The sun rose and fell countless times as Illian's surroundings shifted and changed to reflect his travels. In the end, night had fallen, braziers cast shadows over the nearby walls of the buildings, and a chill air blew across his flesh. "Time and time again. Your will made manifest, as it should be," the Pale Witch intoned.

"And what will you do, Illian Dragos, when you stop and take stock of the world around you... when you notice new faces of criminals you hadn't seen before? Men and women taking advantage of the vacuum you left behind. Of the places where you are not. What will you do when they band together -- those that had once been weak -- to pool their resources in ending your reign of terror on their way of life?" Vytal's eyes watched the man's face as she kept the spirits at bay. The faces of the living would suffice. Cruel, arrogant, murderous creatures that did not approve of Illian's desires -- just as the dark spirits would not. As they would skulk about in the shadows and whisper in his ear. "When they pretend to be your friend? A marionette that ends the lives of competitors, only for the strings to be cut before you notice the nature of the play."

"See the futility of being a one man army in this life or the next. They are not as dissimilar as they appear. And then," she paused for just a second, "know it was not that you tried to bring light to a world far larger than yourself. It was that you did so alone."

Night became day, and the environment pivoted from one scene to the next every few seconds. Bodies clashed against one another, of those in uniform besetting sentients that lurked in the shadows.

"You will go around. Fall to your blade. You will execute justice. Do you think a single spirit in the Nether will ever be noticed by the Horrors of the Deep, Illian? A mote that basks the shadow of an Endless Terror. You could reach out to them. Hear them. Speak to them. Their power could become yours, and you could change the face of the world in an instant." A small smile graced her lips. "Or you can get a tan and dream of single handedly changing the galaxy."

"What is it you truly desire, Illian? What would you say if the Power of the Ancients were but a few words away?"

Tag: Illian Dragos