Private Healing Mountain

[The Seer]

ICARUS
Akti Kruva

I summon you into the mountain blue
Where neither sun nor moonshine can reach you.
I summon you into the forest where no one dwells
and out to the sea where no man rows. ​

These were the words that echoed outward, floating out toward the intended target. All at once, they seemed to echo towards and away from him. Or at least, what could be perceived as himself. He was detached. Not in the sense of emptiness and being ignorant of what occurred around him. Detached in the sense that he allowed everything to flow in and through him, watching as it went without reacting to it. Without categorizing it, he simply allowed these events and himself to be as they were.

The Seer would just have to trust that the message to report to Akti Kruva, the Healing Mountain, reached the Shaman he needed to see. There, at the main central altar, he sat. Posture straight and limbs weightless. Just at the edge of the conscious mind, still aware but seeking to pull away from his body. Worrying would do no good, it would only disturb the process. Only serve to divert his purpose from his quiet devotion. His breathing became intentionally slow, listening to the drum beats of soft steps of the faithful on the outskirts of the chamber. Each had their own petitions and practices they must do, each their own path to blaze and forge.

The Mountain would reveal it all in time.

Perhaps the one en route could falter at that statement, if the Seer said it aloud. Perhaps he would find it helpful. There was no way of knowing for certain. Fate was ever-changing, always fluid, presenting multiple outcomes. To focus and proclaim one particular path too strongly would lead to disaster and harm. He was aware of the cool stone beneath him, aware of the distance between him and it as he levitated a few inches off of the ground. He knew that about 4 people were moving around, not including the guard detail. He was able to feel the entrance of two new figures, two different signatures that he recognized. Though, Zephyr made no move to acknowledge them until a soft voice cut through the silence. “Seer, Shaman Kathal has arrived.” Steel eyes fluttered open.

Slowly, his head inclined and he stood to his feet, turning to face the pair. “Leave us.” The attendant bowed and the practitioners and guards filed out to adjacent chambers to continue their personal ritual behavior.

“Kathal, you came. What has ailed you lately?” A simple question, but a knowing one. A chance to tell his own tale as the priest saw it.

Kathal​

 

[Kathal]

The chanting echoed in the chamber, resonating along the obsidian black walls. Torches flickered along the walls, grasped in the claws of bone hands. Alters were spread out around the cavernous chamber, six massive obsidian pillars with six crimson, jagged lines running down each. At the foot of each pillar was an indention in the floor; steps leading down to a pool filled with murky, blood filled water. Inside the pools, several robed cultists chanted arcane scripture. Floating in the pools around them, and diluting the water with their blood, was the bodies of several dead prisoners.

Their blood flowed with the water through channels cut in the floor to a central dais, swirling together to create a an ever growing lake. Standing at the center of this lake, clothed in nothing but simple pants, Kathal cast his head back. Arms outstretched to either side, yellow eyes staring into the smoke filled roof of the chamber, Kathal channeled the Dark Side of the Force, trying to hold on to his connection to the souls of those recently dead prisoners. When they had died, he had linked himself to them, and tried to follow them as they made their journey to the realm beyond. The chants of the cultists were meant to aid the Shaman in his efforts, but every second saw the souls drift further from him.

A sudden voice in the corner of his mind interrupted his concentration. The single, momentary lapse of focus shattered the spell that hung across the chamber. The souls that Kathal had been gripping, chasing, and trying to shackle slipped from his grasp even as his mind fell back into his nearly comatose body. The cultists around the room fell silent as the Shaman jerked backwards, the sudden return and rush of physical sensation after hours of disconnection from the living world shocking him.

Grimacing, he emerged from the pool and gestured for cultists to bring him his attire. Another failure in his efforts, but not one of his own making. He had been interrupted, and such a breach would have earned any other on Icarus a death sentence. The work Kathal had committed his life to; the study and potential use of living souls, was one that demanded the utmost dedication and focus to. But the one who had interrupted Kathal today could not be so easily punished, or even ignored.

Once properly dressed, the Shaman set out of Akti Kruva.

Entering into the presence of the Seer, Kathal inclined his head. Before heading to the meeting, he had put on his mask, the demonic visage the most common public appearance for Kathal the Shaman among the Scions. "Like the rushing river, the voice and will of the Seer are inexorable. I could no more ignore your call than a rock could withstand the stream of time." Pausing for a moment, Kathal considered his next words carefully before finally speaking. "My studies have progressed, Seer. Each day, each death brings me closer to the goal which I seek. By the blessings of He Who Brings Truth, I shall achieve my destiny."

The Seer

 

[The Seer]

ICARUS
Akti Kruva


Annoyance radiated off of the Shaman as clear as heat and the Seer allowed his lips to make a small upturn. He nodded along politely and listened with visible interest. “I apologize for having interrupting your studies. I’ve had another revelation, a few truthfully.”

He made a gesture with his hand, indicating that Kathal was to follow him. He lead the trio of them through the stone halls of the mountain, silently thankful for the light and heat the small braziers provided. His boots made no sound against the rough stone surfaces, a habit of training and also a deliberate choice. He refused to disturb the disciples at work here, each in their own private rooms or participating in demonstrative lessons. Those faithful that were approaching the pinnacle of their Path, literally and figuratively. They’d receive the advanced techniques here and the application was left to independent practice. None could truly help along this portion of the journey. The only method of success was concentration, dedication, and sheer resolve. Some would fail and others would achieve enough success for a “pass” from the mentor staff, allowed to leave Icarus and explore and hone their skills somewhat independently.

The Seer lead them up to the top of the mountain. Nestled there were his private chambers, under constant surveillance and guard. He nodded as he passed the few people that had clearance to be this far up. Gently, he pushed the door open and stepped inside. Posting the attendant outside and waiting for Kathal to step in before closing the heavy door behind the Shaman. “Please, have a seat. Would you like a drink?” For himself, a personal favorite, a glass of Polanis Red. If necessary, he’d pour a drink for Kathal before taking his own seat. For many, Kathal’s mask was a source of intimidation and fear. To the man, it was a source of inspiration. It suited the Shaman and his line of work.

Zephyr sipped at the glass of win before setting it on a side table off to the side. “First,” they would be safe to talk openly here. The central chamber had been emptied for a time, yes. But, it carried far too much echo for his liking. These matters were sensitive and classified as far as he was concerned. Slowly, he spoke with a soft baritone. “Your faith has wavered,” A simple, but pointed statement rather than a question. The only question he posed was deceptively simple, though there was no doubt the Shaman would read between the lines. They knew each other by now.

“Why?”

Kathal​

 

[Kathal]

Kathal had been agitated when he had come to the Seer, but at the man's proclamation of new visions, the agitation left his body in a rush. He stood stone still for several seconds, his yellow eyes looking the Seer up and down for hidden clues, subtle body movements, anything to indicate what these visions might be. After a few moments, Kathal surrendered himself to the inevitable. He had never been able to glean information from the Seer. It was one of the skills that set him apart.

As they departed the room, and made their way through the mountain temple that served as the Seer's home, place of worship, and beacon of knowledge, and doom for so many. Everywhere Kathal looked, he saw the neophytes and adepts of the Scions, alone or in pairs. At one point, Kathal thought he glimpsed another Shaman, overseeing the instruction of a gathering of thirty. It was one of the many jobs of the Shamans as leaders of the Scions to provide instruction and guidance. Unlike Seekers or Enforcers, the Shamans were forbidden from taking a single student, and instead could only publicly instruct all. Their knowledge and power was best used for the benefit of all Scions.

That did not stop the Shamans from choosing their favorite, naturally. No law of man or God could stop that habit.

When they came to the Seers private quarters, he accepted the drink that was offered as he took his seat. He removed his mask, revealing a rather youthful face and shoulder length blonde hair. Taking the first sip of his drink, he paused mid way through swallowing when the Seer spoke his accusation. He looked across at the Seer over the top of his glass, silent as he swallowed before slowly lowering the cup to the table.

"My devotion to the path has no yet faltered, Seer. The end goal, though, has become...distorted. I fear I have lost the favor of He Who brings Truth."

The Seer

 

[The Seer]

ICARUS
Akti Kruva


To Zephyr, this was not new information. Logically and spiritually, he knew what Kathal meant. Though, as he sat and though silently, he wasn’t sure if he truly understood. Something didn’t quite click. The Vampirika noted the word yet that his longstanding partner and friend added within his first statement. That wasn’t lost on him, but presently that wasn’t the matter at hand.

He wasn’t sure if it was possible for someone like Kathal to do something so horrific to have lost the favor of the Father. Then again, they were all mortal. Even he, with his long lifespan, was still mortal. So close yet so far from the object of his own teachings. But, one such as Kathal… From what he knew, Kathal served faithfully as a Shaman for just shy of a decade by now. If anything, the Human’s faith should be one of the strongest within the ranks of the Scions.

Unless…

“Was it the Selection?” his voice all but a whisper. The Selection, a night that would forever be branded into his memory. Andar died and, as was custom, the Shamans at the time came together to discuss the rightful successor. Three people stepped forward to accept the mantle. Zephyr, Kathal, and him. A man only referred to as the Sundred One since the last Selection, if he was mentioned at all. The title was often whispered for fear that the name alone would summon the vengeful being to their midsts from the depths of Chaos. His arrogance and blasphemy were his undoing. His rule, though not accounted for in any ledgers, was brief but destructive. It nearly collapsed the organization.

As far as any living Scion was concerned, Zephyr was the second Seer rather than the third.

And there was the second part. He was Seer… and Kathal was not. His eyebrows furrowed slightly and his eyes glanced to the door to ensure it was closed. “Do you wish it was you? Do you wish our roles reversed? Speak plainly, if you would. No one outside can hear us and, for reasons I will soon reveal, we cannot afford cracks within our foundation.”

Kathal​

 

[Kathal]

Kathal frowned, a gesture that was uncommon for those that knew him. At all times, he strove to keep himself held in a state of emotionlessness. It allowed him a greater range of focus when he carried out his experiments, and only when needed did he fully draw upon the Dark Side and bask in its disgusting perfection. Still, the question asked by the Seer was enough to momentarily shatter his outer shell, quickly fixed by taking another sip from his cup before answering.

"Even in this sanctum of secrets, Second Seer, somethings are best left unremembered." Kathal spoke the words slowly, methodically, almost tasting each syllable as he turned his head away. He remembered what happened then as much as Zephyr, and he still bore some of the scars from the conflict that had ensued. He more than most understood the dangers of what it meant to have the wrong man or woman take the Seer mantle.

"Do I wish our roles were reversed? Perhaps at one time, perhaps at some point again, but here and now I do not. My research, so important and yet so forgettable captivates my every waking moment. To be Seer, I would have to sacrifice my commitment to this goal. I would gain the present, but would lose the future. Not just my own, but the future of all Scions." Kathal smiled when he was finished, a look even more uncommon for the Shaman, and one dripping with controlled malice.

"I am not plotting your downfall, Seer. My personal struggles and trials pale in comparison to the needs and future of the Scions. So tell me, my Seer, what is it that fills your mind."

The Seer

 

[The Seer]

ICARUS
Akti Kruva


The venom Zephyr found behind the Shaman’s words would burn if it were physical. He nodded his own agreement to the statement, however. Kathal was right, some things were best forgotten. Or, better yet, discarded of entirely. He listened and took sips of his drink throughout the man’s reply, silver eyes never leaving his face. Mentally, he took few notes. It was good to think he knew where Kathal stood on the situation, though it mattered little.

As the Shaman concluded, the Seer’s glass ran empty. A small glance towards it saw that the sensation of the empty cup matched reality. “I’m glad we are of the same mind, Kathal.” He extended his hand only a few inches, exerting his own will through the Force and bringing a bottle from the top of a counter over to his hand. It was never chilled, not unless the room itself became cold.Cold blood was no good. He opened it and poured the liquid into the glass and took a sip of it, smiling at the taste of iron. “I didn’t suspect that you did. Even if you did or do, that is none of my business. If I must go before I retire this station on my own, then I cannot avoid fate. No, the cracks I spoke of were in regards to faith, drive, motivation. The sword must be sharp if the kill is clean.” Another sip followed the announcement and a genuine smiled played across pale lips.

“What I have seen is what we’ve all waited for. Now is the time for preparation, my dear Shaman,” his eyes lit with a strange, cheerful light and his smile persisted. “The beginning of the Will of the Father.” The words held a special kind of reverence to them, he realized, as he spoke them. This was their purpose become manifest. After years and years of work on the backs of their founders, they arrived at one of the pinnacles along the journey they must undergo. If only he could show Kathal the glory that awaited them. If only Andar had lived to see the day.

He took in a long sip from his glass, it was helpful. Crude, but necessary. Not only at a baseline level of evolution but also at the spiritual one. If his body failed him, his mind certainly would. “Though, we must begin small. Stabilize Icarus before we look to the stars, the Scions are too small to be stretched so thin. Recruitment is necessary as is planning, which is why I summoned you.” To whom much is given, much is required. Heavy was the trail they must blaze ahead, but it was uniquely their Path to tread. All at once, a sense of urgency and a sense of caution. Theirs was to expedite, but they had to ensure that everything was perfect before the fated events could occur.

"I do not believe you would be here now, at this crucial moment, if you had truly lost His favor."

Kathal​

 

[Kathal]

Kathal narrowed his eyes, staring at the Seer as his mind raced. Since the found of the Scions of the Truth, the eventual end goal had always been speculated and debated. While their devotion to Typhojem stood at the core of their organization, there were conflicting thoughts as to what the Scions would eventually do with that devotion. Protecting the Holy Sites, punishing the heretical, and bringing an end to internal threats had dominated them for so many decades at this point. The Sundered One had thrown any further plans into disarray with his actions and the losses the Scions had suffered from them.

But if Zeyphr said the time was approaching...

"If the Seer says the time is approaching, then I submit to the Will of the Father through his emissary. If your will has me here, then the favor the Father has for you shall trickle down to me." Putting his cup down, Kathal folded on leg across the other, resting his hands folded together on his stomach. He was excited by the words the Seer spoke, but he was a cautious man as well. While small, Kathal served as the commanding officer of the Scions armed forces, until a more suitable candidate could be found, located in orbit and on the surface of Icarus. He knew that they were too small to do much beyond Icarus itself.

"Recruitment is indeed necessary, my Seer. Though, the population of Icarus itself is not large enough to serve as the foundation of this recruitment. To properly grow and develop, you need on average ten civilians supporting every single soldier, not accounting for naval and armored assets. The most workable solution to our problem would be...droids, I think. Mass production and deployment of droid soldiers and workers, to fill our ranks and rapidly expand our industrial and logistical capacity."

Pausing for a moment, he turned to look out the window of the Seer's quarters. "As for expanding the Scions themselves, the population of Icarus is already providing as many applicants as it can sustain. My generation was only able to provide thirty candidates, and only a handful of us survived the process. Lowering our standards to accept more Scions would diminish the organization as a whole. Naturally, then, we must look beyond Icarus." Turning to look back at Zephyr, Kathal inclined his head shallowly.

"Though, I am sure you knew all of this already."

The Seer

 

[The Seer]

ICARUS
Akti Kruva


Gingerly, the Seer continued to down his drink in small sips there and here. Though, what took importance was the logistics of it all. Call him old fashioned, but he’d much rather write things down than type them on a holopad or from a keyboard onto a screen. He knew how and why these things operated in the manner that they did and why they were preferable and more efficient methods of storage and communication. He just didn’t care to use them himself. Perhaps, that was a fault he’d have to remedy. It certainly didn’t seem enjoyable, but one must keep up with the times.

The Vampyre listened with a controlled excitement about him. If he had any less self control, he might’ve shook from the prospects and endless opportunities that awaited them. Blood might’ve spilled from his cup and that would be a terrible waste. And then, he stopped in his tracks.

Droids.

He took a deep breath and paused to think after Kathal said his piece. On one hand, their tradition had never known the touch of mechanized hands, not in a role that would be so integral to their success. Many were wary of technology, and rightfully so he’d add. They’d done without for decades now, minus ships and weapons but those were necessary evils. Theirs was the path of enlightenment. Man-made constructs could inhibit the pursuit and dedication needed to pursue the ultimate Path.

Yet, on the other hand, it was still necessary. No one could argue against that. They were falling behind on this particular learning curve. The Sith certainly were quick to embrace technology and all of its inherent boons and flaws. If they were to meet their enemy and someday eradicate them, they would not only have to keep up but surpass the technical might of the collective. Another swig of blood went down his throat, the words that followed flavoring his mouth with bitterness. “If you believe this must be for the advancement of the Scions, then go forward with it. However,” his eyes moved to look at the blond-haired man.

“How will we procure the necessary resources? The manpower to operate forges and assembly facilities? The moons may prove useful, perhaps. And men…. Would you suggest the natives? Would you subject your own people to labor if it became necessary, Kathal?” A crooked smile played across his features now, far different from his previous joy. He had no doubt of Kathal’s loyalty, he’d dealt with the subjugation and management of the Icarii well enough. Perhaps he wouldn’t blink an eye. Or, maybe he would. To Zephyr, it mattered not. If these new machines required manual labor, those that failed and the people of the world would suffice. If they happened to step out of line, examples could be made. He wasn’t certainly no stranger to the idea of sacrifice for the greater good, and currently the greatest good was their mission.

His eyes left the human briefly, glancing just above his seat to where the rich auburn light of the Icarii sunset was descending behind the city. Locking his eyes with the Shaman, he reached his hand up into the light. When his hand came back down a few minutes later, the back of it was burned and slightly raw. “Would you burn one bridge…” On cue, he focused his energy inward, toward the source of pain in order to slowly begin the heal the self inflicted burn, “...in order to build another for those unrelated to you?”

He continued, as though nothing had happened. As if he hadn’t just burned his own flesh to make a point. “As for potential prospects, potential Neophytes, yes. We must look offworld. I would entrust this to you, one other Shaman, and our active Seekers. Instead of artifacts, temples, and tombs, their attention will shift to scouring the Galaxy for those that may be persuaded to our cause. Those with the drive to know more, the hunger to want more than mere existence. I will also look around myself when time provides. This must be a concerted effort if we are to get off the ground.” A third sip from his glass followed as he mapped out plans within the leather bound book in his lap.

Kathal​

 

[Kathal]

Kathal grunted, small annoyance flaring across his mind as he stood up and moved away from the table and small little meeting they had. The Seer had brought up good points, but underneath them all, he could still sense the hesitation. To some degree, Kathal understood that hesitation. For the first time in their history, the current Seer was the student of a previous Seer. Unlike any of their predecessors in the ancient records of the Scions, Zeyphr had a legacy to keep in mind.

"The manpower will be dealt with in phases. The people of Icarus have for too long lived in decline. Many are without jobs, without purpose. To fuel our expansion, they will do their part. Each citizen, each living being will have a job, a duty. In their work, they will provide for the greater cause of The Father. They will open these factories, the forges and mines that we need to fuel this beginning. In time, though, we will have enough droids to replace them. At that point, we will divert them to other occupations. Higher quality needs of our cause."

Folding his arms behind his back, Kathal locked eyes with the Seer. "By giving themselves to the cause, they will provide a better future for their blood. We will not force them into slavery, they will be paid for their work. This income will help provide for a better life for them and theirs, and in turn, provide greater revenue for the cause. Through a continuous cycle of returns, we shall grow the industry and people of Icarus into an industrial power rivaling anything else in this galaxy. The hardships they face will do them well in the long term."

Looking away, and staring back out the window, Kathal nodded his head at the Seer's final point. "The need of more Scions is desperately felt. As it stands, if it came to a war today against our enemies, both the Jedi and Sith, we would not be able to meet them on equal terms. We are not fighters by nature or choice, and while we can if needed, we lack the proper focus to fight the large scale wars they have grown used to. While we find more Neophytes, we must also seek to prepare a force that can hold the line against our foes, and even take the fight to them while we prepare ourselves." Turning to face the Seer, Kathal waved his hand. A book across the room, one that he had been given by the Seer at one point and returned after he had finished reading it, flew to his hand.

"The Echoes of the Crimson Order. One of the more obscure relics of our libraries. Tales of an ancient order of warriors raised to fight for the Scions against enemies that would have overwhelmed us. They fought the battles we could not, defended our interests where we could not, and killed our foes when we could not. The Crimson Order, perhaps nothing but an ancient story, holds sway. I would, with your permission, seek to rebuild the Crimson Order. As we begin our great cause, the new Crimson Order would be our bloody right hand in the greater galaxy. While our Neophytes train, while our fleets are built and armies forged, the Crimson Order will hold the line."

The Seer

 

[The Seer]

ICARUS
Akti Kruva


As Kathal spoke of his vision for the future, the Seer wrote. Drew up plans in pen with a dark ink that would stain his hand if he wasn’t careful. Mapped everything out on paper to allow his mind time to truly grasp the concept. Just as with death, this was not real until it was made so. And thus, he listened with a keen ear to what the Shaman had to say. There was no point in asking for advice if, at least, some of it wouldn’t be heeded.

Manpower. How do you build and fund and effectively run a budding nation state? Workers were needed, happy workers at that. Unless they planned to have a majority droid workforce. Payment made people happy, especially a destitute people in need of structure and better livelihoods. The Scions had come to this world and they did provide stability. They took from the local populaces and did not replenish the resources that were taken. Now, in order to build a successful nation, quality of life must be assured. Jobs were a start, yes. Building a planetary economy that could stand on its own was vital if Icarus was to be the grand stage where everything else would stem from.

With successful jobs came the promise of healthy and well off progeny. The cycle continues, the people benefit, the nation grows. A simple, cyclical pattern. As long as order was maintained. That would be easy to maintain, however. If Icarus was the home planet, forces would be strongest here. If the Scion ranks grew at a consistent pace and eventually proper military forces were built, it should not be a concern. The added protection would be as much for the people as for the assets of the nation as a whole.

The same could be repeated on numerous other worlds, if they were so fortunate as to get that far. But, one thing at a time. Icarus must be secured first before the distant stars could be looked to. A short remark followed as he made another note on the paper. “Your suggestions are sound. They have the potential to work out, should they be executed properly.”

Silver eyes flicked up to watch a book had in the waiting gloved hand of the human. An eyebrow raised but relaxed as he listened once more to the story that was woven. If memory served him, they were rumored to have been around in a time before Andar came to power as the first recognized leader of the Scions. Small strike units that hit at multiple points at once to compact and overwhelm the enemy. Fanatically loyal and a force to be reckoned with unless you could figure out the strike pattern.

Closing the book and sealing it with a wave of his hand, he placed the pen back on his desk and stood to the side of it. “Reinstate the Order. I trust you and Priesse will do well by the namesake. Put the plans for job security and education into play at the planetary level, have the orders spread out as far as the poles if you must. For now, the planet itself will be enough. The moons may yet hold potential.”

Still, it was just a beginning. A starting point. If they got it right, the pay off would be enormous. If they didn’t, they risked falling from the height. “Tell me, what are your thoughts on this ‘Hyperspace War’?”

Kathal​

 

[Kathal]

Kathal nodded as the Seer approved his proposals, at least in word. He was under no illusion results, true results would not be visible for many months yet. Much work had to be done to reorient the population of Icarus towards full employment and maximum production. Lives would certainly be lost, and there would be initial resistance to the forced labor, but in time they would come to accept it. When they began to receive their pay, and the quality of life began to increase across the world, they would understand the necessity. To build the nation that the faithful of Typhojem deserved, would require much work.

He froze when Zephyr spoke of the Hyperspace War, such a simple question, yet holding so much weight. Despite the propaganda running rampant across the galaxy, spread by both sides, Kathal did not think this war was something truly special. It was certainly a large conflict, but not unprecedented in modern times. The First Order-Galactic Alliance conflict decades previous had been just as big, if not larger. Every galactic power of the time had taken part in that war, and countless billions had lost their lives. The one thing that made this conflict different, Kathal mused, was that it was less a conflict of nations and more of ideologies.

"The War is...developing. It has certainly been entertaining to watch, though other than the Chiss incident, it has not had too many lasting effects on the galaxy I think. It is another war of Jedi against Sith, and all those that support their banners. Recent developments, however, are of particular interest. The move towards Tython...you read the same prophecies that I did when you were a Shaman. Do you think this war is leading to the Time of Sundering?"

After speaking the words, the breeze in the room seemed to suddenly die. Kathal's words hung on the air as he turned to look at the Seer, his golden eyes locking with the other man's silver. "If it truly is coming, can we afford to not take part in it?"

The Seer

 

[The Seer]

ICARUS
Akti Kruva


The air in the room stalled and became stale as the question hung there waiting to be answered. He let out a chuckle and looked out over the city below. Developing was a vast understatement at this point. The war saw an ancient Galactic power threatened, territory razed and cut through. Planets conquered and seized. And all of it culminated at Tython, the beginning of the practices that were now a dichotomy.

“Yes, I’ve read them. Studied the passages until none of the words made sense anymore.” Nights and days spent pouring over the texts, asking questions and thinking himself in circles trying to answer them. It became a hyperfixation during his time as a Shaman and even before then. Any knowledge he could get his hands on was good knowledge. Anything he could discern from the esoteric scrolls and books under the temple was progress in the right direction. He took a deep breath and his eyes found the human again, nodding slowly. “I believe it is.” It was as simple and straightforward as that. If he hadn’t misinterpreted what he saw, then the time was slowly creeping up on them. And, by that, he really meant it was sprinting towards them like a hungry animal.

“We can. I don’t think this is the right moment to step out, not yet. If we revealed ourselves now, we would be obliterated before we’ve even begun. Let them return and see how the battle unfolds.” He picked the glass back up and took a long sip from it. His eyes went again to the book in Kathal’s hand and then they traveled across the skyline in the direction of the Temple of the Maalraas.

“We must be prepared, Kathal. If we are to succeed, we must be ahead. We need men, soldiers, warriors of the faith. Eventually, we'll have to make connections to take on powers like the Sith.”

Kathal​