Gathering Dusk

[Grace Darkson]

The Library Temple of Krayiss Two was truly something to behold. Halls coated in dusk lead form room to room, where massive volumes held more knowledge of the Sith than Grace could ever have dreamed of gaining. Still, though, there was something she'd have to deal with if she wanted access to all of it without fearing for her life and sanity.

The temple housed many dead spirits, both light and dark. The few lightsided spirits were in torment, foolish Jedi who had come here and tried to enter, or worse, destroy the sacred space. She smiled as she approached the meditation space deep in the compound. While it may not be the brightest thing to do, the spirits were something that she needed to deal with sooner or later. And with how much knowledge was here, she didn't want to wait for eons to access it unmolested.

Smiling, she knelt, closing her eyes.

 

[Grace Darkson]

She could see them all around her, whipping past like a whirlwind. Their names were lost to history, their tales and experiences all but forgotten. Only their writings, their observations of the force, remained, locked away under their protection. They challenged any who set foot in their home, and any who did not satisfy them were torn apart and tormented for the spirit's own amusement. They seemed to have tolerated her so far, her display of Force Rage while she cleared out the mandalorians appeasing their desire to keep those who weren't worthy out. Now, she intended to break that uneasy truce.

"Restless Spirits of the Ancient Sith! I call you forth to speak to me!" Her voice echoed off the walls, filling the meditation chamber with the challenge. She understood the risk she was taking. They were many, and she was alone, her leg still not fully recovered meant her sleep had been less than restful. But even so, she could not wait. She would only deteroriate, and she needed to get this done and out of the way.

 

[Grace Darkson]

Nothing.

She sat, confused. That should have gotten their attention. Unless... Did she need to do a full incantation?

"Anmudzuna iw ri Nimyi Tsis! Nu doryumi j'us an chari ki!" The words began softly, a chant under her breath. She began to fall into a rhythm, the old words rolling of her tongue. "Anmudzuna iw ri Nimyi Tsis! Aji ki ridis diâ chari ki!" She could remember old chants, old calls to those dead to force them to speak. Maybe there was more she needed to understand.

"Taka zeech ma toka duuwaj."

The temple shook, as if the whole building was moving, and the doors behind her slammed shut. Hairs began to stand on the back of her neck. This was it. They were here.

 

[Grace Darkson]

Kodel dary j'us visita mus, berniuk? The voice dripped with a dangerous anger, the underlying threat of a drawn out and painful demise hanging in the air. Shaking, she stood, her eyes finding the pale, transparent red of the Sith Spirit's form. He stood over her, his frame massive. Most likely a warrior in his own time, perhaps the temple's guardian. Now, even in death, he fulfilled his duty. Grace stood, unmoving, for a moment, enraptured in the terrible majesty of this being who belonged to the grave but refused to bow to it. Eyes narrowing, the spirit moved closer, until it was nearly atop her.

"Why do you call upon us, little girl?" His voice was louder, angrier. She shook, the words assaulting her ears and even her psyche as they rang inside the room. The spirit raised a hand, the spectral appendage mere centimeters from her brow. A cold shiver ran down her spine, and she wondered if this was a good idea.

This is the path available to me. The way to power. There is no other option.

"I call upon you to grant me the right to study here. The knowledge held here is vast, and there is much I can learn from it." She tried her best to sound confident, strong, but simply knowing that if this being wished, it could end her sapped much of her bravado from her.

"And what of the other?"

"Other?" She asked, confused. "Oh!" Reaching into her pocket, she pulled out a relatively simple necklaces of brass and topaz. "He remains trapped in the amulet. Until it is worn, he is nothing more than a voice." The spirit backed away, and she held the amulet at arm's length, presenting the alchemical trinket to the Sith.

 

[Grace Darkson]

"He is weak"

The words rang out, thundering in the enclosed room. It was all she could do to not shrink back, even as the involuntary flinch forced her to for a brief moment. Her hand opened, rising to ward off a blow to her face, and the amulet fell to the floor. Almost as it did, something rose out of it, a spirit much like the one she had been speaking to. His flickering teal form seemed to shy from the ancient Sith's, and the elder spirit growled a noise that to Grace sounded not unlike that of a Tu'kata; full of rage and an almost territorial anger.

"He will suffer."

The Spirit screamed, fading as spectral chains wrapped around his form, dragging him into the ground. His wail echoed through the temple, a mournful sound as the other spirits tore into him with vigor. The temple had claimed another victim. "And what of me, Serjek?"

 

[Grace Darkson]

The spirit seemed to think, hovering unmoving before her. She could feel the temple buzzing, as if some debate was being held. "You have much to learn. We will allow you to do that." It watched her reaction to his words. "But what of the others."

"Others?"

"You brought others. The Soldier. The Knight. The Traitor." Ah. The others in the Drop pod. "The soldier has proven her mettle. The others are not welcome back. They are not of the Sith."

"I'm not sure I'd call Jack a Sith."

"He will be. We have seen it."