Knocking on the sky...

[Valsion]

One singular system so simply named that it applied it's own title not only to the star within, but the system and even the third planet. Rannon was a mostly vacant planet of sentient life, save for the various creatures it hosted in it's temperate climate. Thick lush forests jutted out of the landscape for hundreds of thousands of meters. On the horizon in almost all directions were the outlines of mighty mountains rising up tipped with snow-caps dusting their peaks. An over-all natural planet with a dark and destructive past all from the cause and corrupted power of one man; Danaan Kerr. The entire valley that had become the dark jedi's home was now a barren wasteland bordered by the lush life of plants and animals that dared not cross that forbidden scarred topography. Brought to ruin by the fractured mind of a skilled Force-user; driven insane by the very lust of power. A scar that remained unchanging in the hands of time, leaving behind the trail of sorrow that was left in the wake the one referred to as a 'dark magician'.


Peering across the ravine that led to the rocky precipice of the valley walls, a pair of shining silver eyes gazed with a relaxed intent. Washing over the scene and occasionally a sashay of irises flicked back and over again the expanse of the damage. Val`Sion rested in a meditative lotus position, his boot clad feet pressed inwards towards his inner thighs, his knees slightly raised taking the solemn weight of his elbows. While his possessions remained few, those he did have didn't speak of the meager life he led. A high-collared jack that trailed into split tails adorned his frame. Cerulean blue with the hints of white and gold inlays of various swirling designs decorated the coat; a gift from his mother on his parting journey. His exodus from Eshan was a celebration of a journey, one that would lead the young man through the stars that had always been beckoning his light to furthest reaches of the galaxy.


A supple wind blew, creating waves to push through the blades of grass creating ethereal waves that flowed and ebbed through the elevated plane leading towards a cliff edge which bordered on the dark scarred land. Locks of snow-white hair washed in the breeze, flicking back and forth before again laying upon the Echani's crown. Before the seated wanderer rested his prized possession making an indent along the fertile grass. Sheathed fully in the scabbard and carefully laid out with all the etiquette and grace of a noblemen. The Echani vibrosword; a weapon of elegance, stability and strength. Something he'd kept close since receiving the honored bestowment back on Eshan. Fond memories filtered through his mind while he watched the landscape and felt the wind flush against pale flesh.


Val`Sion's mind went to the seething dark energy that was still washing up from that cursed land meters from his position. He could feel the blaze of hate seeping up from the ground, nearly causing the air to vibrate with tremors in the Force. Why had he come here? As always the answer was simple. He was guided to this place, guided for an unknown purpose. Yet as the Echani sat he pondered the notion that he had been destined for this place to attempt a healing of the land. One man had caused this destruction, it was plausible that another so skilled in the force could restore the balance of life to the wasted valley of Ternaax.


Bare hands rested casually upon the slope of his kneecaps while he observed the ruin and considered that possibility. It wasn't something he was trained for, nor did he even know where to begin, but time was something Sion had much of, and he was patiently waiting instruction from the source he sought his paths from. The unwavering power of the Force.

@[member="Saeldar"]

 

[Lief]

Contrasting her trip to Sernpidal Saeldar ventured through the snow-capped peaks of Rannon's many mountain ranges. To the young girl who was working on obliterating her weaknesses, by building upon them, honing them so that while they were not a strength, so to speak, they did not burden as heavily as they presently did. Sernpidal's desert wastelands had been brutal, not least because the young Umbaran had very sensitive eyes, especially where the brightest light source, the sun, was concerned. Rannon was just as harsh on her eyes, the light reflected off the glaciers of ice which resided atop the very peaks of the mountains, reflecting and refracting, intensifying the natural light so that they shone with a halo of radiance. As on Sernpidal, however, Saeldar was unwilling to give up. The cold was more of an ally than the heat for the fair-skinned young girl.

Heavy boots trekked silently through the snow, brought about by well-practised light footwork... Call it a by product of Makashi, or stealth training, or merely even the young girls weight, of lack thereof, she was horrifically silent, adding to the spectre-like aura which already surrounded her... Less so now than it had in the days where her naturally-white hair shone through, but it was visible within her all the same. Far too pale for your average human, to the point of inducing worry in unaware strangers. With each breath a cool mist spread from her, like a tiny dragon first learning to spread its wings and hunt its prey. Thyrian was the fire to her darkness, the flames which would spread from her one day... When the time is right she knew, but it wasn't... So he was kept away, hidden.

It had taken many days but finally she had made it through the mountains, and on the other side she saw... Well, little. There was a forest encompassed within the range itself, locked in at three sides, as though the mountains were tenderly hugging the trees. A desolate, half-destroyed village remained, charred ruins the product of... Something catastrophic, she guessed. A minor wound could be felt through the Force, which she could not help but draw upon, it called to her, while the screams of devastation rang through her mind. And thus Saeldar made her decision to venture down and explore for herself. This in itself took over a day to manage, after all the mountains were some of the largest she had climbed scale-wise, and with their sheer inclines the way down was treacherous, she constantly had to mind her footing. More than once she slipped, and managed to catch herself last minute to avoid the plummet which would inevitably follow.

Standing on one edge of the village she noted how everything strayed from it, the native flora, fauna, even the grass stopped on the edge of it's muddy ground. With one foot in front of the other she ventured closer, feeling a severe shudder spread through her body. To most it would have hurt, pushed back, stopped them from wanting to go any further, to others the emotional cry that could be felt would have brought them to their knees, unable to stomach the feel of so much loss... But Saeldar drew upon it, she felt it empower her as she breathed in deeply. It reminded her of Togoria, only she was older now than she had been back then, she understood what had happened, and she knew how to twist it to her advantage. Force Wounds were the pure absence of life, and in many ways the Force itself, but in turn it created the epitome of a Darksided Nexus, the likes of which could never naturally form in the Galaxy. It was the absence of life, and it was this she few upon.

Following her actions through she ventured further into the village, closing her eyes and allowing it to radiate around her. The closer she went to its heart, to the centre, the heavier the burden, the more tempting it was to release the Darkness locked inside...

@[member="Val`Sion"]

 

[Valsion]

Within the presence of such a literal tear in the landscape - the jagged rocks falling into the valley as if some massive blade had carved it in a brutal slice across the clover-rich plains of the grasslands; Sion rested in a meditative halcyon. A visual stimulus for the less seen and more-so felt crag and tear in the life stream of the planet. It was indeed a wound on the face of the planet, a wound that burrowed into the Force itself. Though it had been contained to just this blemish on the topography, the ramifications were more than residual. The presence of this scar was a seething poison and cancer that had rooted itself fast, all thanks to a single man who had let corruption and madness dwell within until it lashed out to mirror his mind with such an arid wasteland.

Hours had passed while the Echani, in patient supplication, had been mulling over his reasoning for being here. His guide was the will of the Force, and in such a place where the scars of darkness and malevolent hate radiated just meters before him, gaining a clear answer was proving difficult. Normally a direction of guidance would place him in the proper juncture to fulfill the will of the Force, and allow its purpose to be revealed. Such did not seem to be the case for this venture, and a slight bit of confusion wrought itself on his brow as it crinkled in thought. At first the Echani had attempted to understand the land, to press into the past and glean some sort of insight to that of the current wake of destruction. He had only been met with violent and jarring glimpses of a land viciously torn through with arcane rage that he knew not.

Another attempt had been made as an extension of himself, a presence amplification through the Force to reach beyond himself and imbue his mind and consciousness through the enigmatic energy and press to the boundaries of the valley. Subtly pressing forward to allow the guiding light of peace to edge into the territory of Chaos. The barrier of anger and pain met that attempt like a wall of fire, burning with the mere touch of his presence. The Force was fighting against itself in unholy enmity causing a backlash that had ripped the Echani from his meditation leaving psychic pain to resonate through his mind. Having since recovered from that bout, he did not press again into that course of action, and had simply remained seated, watching over the landscape, and attempting to sort out the reasoning for his call to this planet, and this location.

Silver eyes lay shut as the restorative properties of his connection to the Force wafted over him like ocean waves to rejuvenate his mind and body. Much like the practices that his brethren had taught him on Bunduki over a century ago, but with a different purpose. Not to sleep or rest again, but simply to clear his mind, and let clarity resume. He felt the need to plumb the depths of this mystery and seek other avenues that were not yet present to him. These practices aided him in previous situations and he would trust the Force's influence to educate him on things he still had yet to learn. Not long after, the presence of another flashed across his mind, the dark heart of young lady radiated a signature of power and perseverance that caused his eyes to flash open with revelation.

Perhaps the purpose of this visit was not to heal the land as he had once thought, but rather to intersect the life of another. Sion had met many during his travels, and it had always seemed fated in one way or another to cross their paths. Everyone walks their own path - some paths cross. This lesson among many others was taught to him by the Followers of Palawa. A simple but true statement that rang to his mind like the chiming of a bell. Movement stirred in the joints and appendages of the Echani as the sword was lifted and attached to his belt before brushing his clothes free of residual blades of grass. Digits slid through the snow white locks of his hair as his boot steps took him nearer towards the edge, resisting the urge to immediately call out. He wanted to see her first, to understand her presence and reason for approaching this valley of the damned.

Edging forward, Sion stopped a few feet before the rocky edge, and peered into the ravine below to witness Saeldar stepping into the realm of the damaged and torn landscape. She knew the Force, or at least held a connection to it in a potent way. It was foolish to think that she wasn't aware of the palpable wound that radiated from where her footsteps led. She had brazenly walked into the den of madness, and pain, and yet she continued to move. Curious. The sound of shifting rocks and pebbles dislodging would break the silence within the valley, offering the information of her silent surveyor and giving away his current position.

@[member="Saeldar"]​

 

[Lief]

Onwards she pressed through the village, drawing on the chaos which drove her ever forwards, to the wound at the village centre. It reminded her of Togoria, where she had visited years before... The day that Syn took me away - but his attempts at redemption had failed, as had Thurions, Force preserve him, and @[member='Azar the Mystic']'s too. Whenever she was drawn from the darkness, even a mere inch, it latched back onto her in one form or another, dragging her right back down and having an even tighter hold. If it were possible to reach an intense darkness each time, well that would have been what happened to the young girl. Finally she made it to the heart of the village, and there she crouched down, examining the physical scar which had been left behind by... Whatever had caused such devastation. It was devoid of sound, of life, and even the wind seemed to avoid blowing on this particular section of the planet... Which considering how bad it had been before she crossed the threshold was astounding.

During her time there she reflected on all that had happened ~ her transition from Kara to Saeldar had been completed, yet she felt hollow inside. Part of her longed to be guided back to her old self, she wanted dignity which she no longer retained, she longed to be something different, something better, while still being a member of the Empire. Killers did not have to be viscous, and Sith did not have to be killers... There was a difference between taking a life and killing someone, one was butchery, the other far more civilised. But that is not something you will ever have, she knew, and so she stopped aiming for it. Now all she could do was practise and train, prepare herself for the day her Master and Emperor required his weapon - and until such a day she would better herself. If she could be nothing else in the Galaxy, she would be the best at what she did. And if that means practising how to take a life in the cleanest way, without leaving a trace... Well then I shall.

But that was not why she was on this planet. Endurance training, cold weather training, and secretly it was a brief escape from chaos. Part of the child still longed for the days that she had Thurion by her side, his hand entwined in hers, whispered secrets shared behind the apple trees. Even after he learnt that she was a Sith that Syn was trying to convert... Even then he stuck by her. And so she honoured him, once in a while, she took herself from the chaos and the bloodshed and she sought some sort of... Peace. Not the Jedi's idea of peace, but her own. Thurion would understand what that was... Thurion always understood, in one way or another.

Suddenly she heard the sound of a disruption from the edge of the village, and Saeldar looked up. Blowing stray locks of jet black hair from her eyes she focused her icy gaze upon the Echani in the distance, resisting the urge to growl. For one who intended to one day be humane and regal she could be rather animalistic at times. Why was this individual watching her? Stretching out mentally she brushed just his surface thoughts, not bothering to break through any mental barriers he might have, and gained an impression of his name. "@[member='Val`Sion']" she hissed.