Private Lessons in Blood

[Darth Prazutis]

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A foul darkness crept over the densely populated cities of the temperate world below, blotting out the very sun above.

Deep shadows cast long shapes over the city as its streets grew dense with the population of curious, concerned citizens at the sudden spatial phenomenon. The world below grew darker as the clouds above grew heavy and black, drowning them in a twilight beneath and pushing out the defiance of the light. Down through the clouds a comet of purest crimson fell, its tail leaving arcs of crimson lightning illuminating the darkness above, the very air growing heavier. The comet descended with crippling speed crashing straight down into a densely populated square in the central portion of the city below. Its sheer force shattered glass for a dozen city blocks, sending a column of dark energy and showering debris high into the sky above. But the impact on those below? Horrific. It was indescribable horror, pure carnage that reduced living beings to sprays of bloody mist, bodily shrapnel, and flesh transfigured into nothing but a gel mass.​

That was when he emerged.​

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A giant stood in the destructions wake of such presence the very air grew heavier, and the darkness grew longer. It wasn't commanded to his side or channeled no, that would be too simple. His will simply became reality around Him, the darkness came to Him at His mere presence. Before them stood the Dark Lord of the Kainate, the Shadow Hand Darth Prazutis, and a smaller raven-haired form of a female who stood beside Him. But there was no rhyme or reason as to how they had survived the catastrophic explosion, all that remained in the immediate vicinity around them was a colorless void. This void created an abominable wrongness that would never cease, never leave it would persist despite all else, and everything stopped at its borders. The giant held a firm hand on her shoulder. He was clad in a set of reflective, form fitting black plate and robes He stood the epitome of a ruling warlord, a tyrannical planet crushing despot. His lightsaber was clasped to His waist itself a dark instrument radiating fell power. ​

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When He removed His hand from her shoulder the Dark Lord exhaled deeply, and color rushed in to fill the void around them. But even though it remained full the mark left behind would remain, creating a permanent fell feeling in this place. He stepped out from the crater left by their arrival to a chorus of agonized screams, a symphony of grief-stricken wails and fear driven panic. All around Him He exuded a presence of finality, the sheer immensity of Him was equal parts intoxication and asphyxiation. It was like flying for the first time above the clouds and drowning in the crushing depths of the ocean, it overwhelmed everything around Him, the darkness ceaselessly obeying, death clung to Him like a shroud. "You have grown stronger in your time with me. But you have much to learn still." The Dark Lord spoke without looking at her, standing above her while His eyes swept a scrutinizing gaze over everything around Him, drinking in the fear of the crowds paralyzed in fear as hysteria gripped their hearts.​

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"Come. Look upon the unwashed masses, see what they truly are. They live short, fleeting, meaningless lives carving out a pointless existence. In our presence they are nothing but tools. Their worth is entirely predicated on your will, their fates tied to the design you have for them. Today I have chosen their home as the site of your next lesson, I have judged their worth and determined they may prove useful in unlocking your deeper potential. Now look upon them. Look deeper than merely flesh, blood, and bone. Tell me what you see, what you feel around you. Feel everything."​

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Revna ​

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[Revna]

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She knew that her little vacation on Korriban would come to an end, eventually.

The summons had come, and she had ignored them at first. But the device in her spine had made it clear that she didn’t have a choice in the matter; she could feel the powerful will of the Shadow Hand be exerted over her, and she chose not to fight against it again. She made no mention of her new situation to Darth Caedes, and had slipped away from Korriban silently to heed her summoning. Why she was being called back to the Dark Lords after so long, she wasn’t sure. The shadowy unknown of what lay ahead for her, made her exceedingly nervous. Did they know that the King had chosen her to become his queen? Did they wish to try and manipulate her against him, bend her further to their will? Deny her this opportunity? Force her back into a Black Cell? Force her to hunt down the remnants of her late Master’s Order and destroy them all? To perhaps execute her, seeing as her original use to be used against Darth Strosius no longer applied? Or perhaps the Dark Lords of the Kainate had another purpose for her altogether?

She was soon to find out the truth, one way or the other, she mused darkly to herself as she guided the starcraft towards Dromund Kaas. Upon reaching her destination, she steeled herself to face whatever lay beyond the shuttle doors…and when the outside world was revealed to her, Revna Marr was greeted by a sight she hoped to never see again:

Darth Prazutis, the Shadow Hand himself. Waiting for her.

Revna took a deep breath before she stepped out to face the giant Epicanthix, both curious and dreading to know what he had in store for her.

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Exhaustion.

It was all consuming. The Disciple had been exhausted of her Force energies before, but not to this degree. Perhaps the closest she had ever come was when she had unleashed her Force scream, when she felt her Master die. The moment the cold void had been birthed into existence within her. The moment the insatiable hunger had made its presence known. She had spent the last few months, perhaps longer, trying to fight off and ignore that hunger that clawed at the very edges of her consciousness. Had found ways to stop it from driving her mad.

And now that she had been forced to expel everything, all that there was left was that hunger. The need for warmth, for life. For something other than the chill that froze the blood in her veins.

A powerful grip on her shoulder steadied the small Sith woman; beside her, towering feet above her, was Prazutis. Her being utterly drained and exhausted was his doing - and he had then taken her somewhere to teach her yet another lesson.

Now her eyes beheld exactly where he had brought her; a city, on some forsaken planet, somewhere within the Galaxy. Their arrival had been the harbinger of death and destruction, and all around her lay ruin as if a bomb had gone off in the city itself. The scent of dust and debris, along with the sickeningly sweet smell of flesh and blood, greeted her senses. Next came the sound, wails and screams that ripped at the soul, the heart, of a person - if they had a heart at all. Such a thing would no doubt cripple a Jedi, had any been nearby to feel such suffering.

But for a Sith?

The song of suffering was where they thrived.

Darth Prazutis released his hold on her shoulder and stepped beyond her to view the sights around them; she remained where she was in the crater, looking over the destruction caused by their arrival. She was in student mode now, her senses and attention mostly on the Dark Lord beyond her. She still didn’t know why he had brought her here, but she had a sick feeling in the pit of her stomach that she was soon to learn the truth.

"You have grown stronger in your time with me. But you have much to learn still." the Tyrant said without looking at her, his voice echoing over the ruined cityscape around them. After a few moments of silence, he spoke once more to her, a command to be obeyed:

“Come. Look upon the unwashed masses, see what they truly are. They live short, fleeting, meaningless lives carving out a pointless existence. In our presence they are nothing but tools. Their worth is entirely predicated on your will, their fates tied to the design you have for them. Today I have chosen their home as the site of your next lesson, I have judged their worth and determined they may prove useful in unlocking your deeper potential. Now look upon them. Look deeper than merely flesh, blood, and bone. Tell me what you see, what you feel around you. Feel everything.”

Revna stared at his back for a moment, her eyes glittering. He wanted her to use her senses, when she was already so drained? Was that possible? Sighing softly, she stepped beyond the crater itself, her dark robes moving about her like a whisper, as she moved closer to Prazutis’s position. She didn’t get too close to him, maintaining a healthy and respectful distance from the Dark Lord.

The little woman looked upon everything that surrounded her, before she dipped her head slightly and closed her eyes. It was difficult to tap into the web of the Force, to spread her senses out beyond her, when she hardly had enough energy to put one foot in front of the other. But she was not one to give up so easily; she dug in deep, pushed herself further than she thought she could...until she began to pick up the environment around her, the emotions that filled the empty spaces.

Front and foremost was the rawness of suffering experienced by those in the immediate surroundings; beyond that, rippling out like a tidal wave, was fear - so deep and so tempting. Revna knew very well how powerful a Sith could be when feeding upon the energies of fear. Within, her hunger stirred - grew deeper and darker, for every soul she glimpsed, she saw a wellspring of life, of energy. She was drawn to it, like a moth to a flame. Each little spark promised renewal.

“I see…a city of lost souls, creatures bound to the chains of mundanity. They take and give nothing back, know nothing of suffering. We are like gods to them, and I feel their fear, rippling out like a cold breeze. I feel life, little sparks of…energy. I feel….”

There was a long pause as she tilted her head to one side, wrestling with the truth that was within her, but unable to deny it any longer. Her eyes snapped open, burning with the intent that filled her mind.

“...Hunger.”

Darth Prazutis​

 

[Darth Prazutis]

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"You grasp the surface. You walk the right track. Now push deeper." He swept His gaze across the fleeing crowds and plucked one out of the faceless masses, merely pressing His will on the world. The man swept through the air at blinding speeds, suspended before Him in mere moments, while the Dark Lord hadn't even moved, His blazing orbs met the captives as he struggled, thrashing and screaming. "Silence." A simple order but the sheer impact of His will, His iron dominion shot through the man like lightning, a thunderclap on his psyche and he froze. He raised a single hand then and with a blur of movement drove it straight through the man's abdomen, blood bubbled out from the open hole around His fist as he pulled out a large strand of the mans intestines. "Drown yourself in his fear, choke on his pain. Taste the very flowing blood. Feel every moment as I rip the intestines from his trembling form." It was a simple task. Push deeper, further. But nothing the Dark Lord told her was simple, if you read beneath the surface of what He was trying to say.

"You speak what their place is. Now understand it, we are more. Measure their meager lives in worth, purpose. Remember this. Say what you need to them as you accumulate power, gather strength. Cloak yourself in deception like a shroud, tell them what you need to bind them to you but remember this fact. They exist only as far as you can measure them in accordance to the design, to the fate you intend for them. Exploit their desires, fears to your own ends then discard them when they no longer serve your interests." The Dark Lord paused focusing His attention on the motionless man before Him suffering in silence, tears streaking down his face as it twisted with maddening pain. Blood began to pool on the ground beneath now.

"This is a fact your former master Lord Strosius, and Lord Malum struggle with. They cloak themselves in the lie of morality. Your former master freed many slaves, fashioning himself as a breaker of chains. This is nothing but weakness manifest. They mean nothing. Jedi struggle with their shackles of morality and this makes them weak, predictable. In war they move like insects desperately wasting energy and time on evacuating civilians, suffering and death cripples their minds and makes them easy to outmaneuver, gives so much weakness to exploit. I once shattered a galactic nation by consigning an entire city to oblivion. When faced with its destruction directly, feeling millions die, its monarchs resolve shattered like glass. Why? Weakness. I was willing to take the next step, she was not. Strength alone justifies action. This is something your former allies have yet to learn themselves." He pulled what remained from the man's intestines out with a sickening tear and tossed them aside, the man's body was dropped nearby and left to suffer in what remained of his life.

Back to the lesson.

"Now that you've surrounded yourself in his emotion, in his pain pull. Its right in front of you. Such teaching can only be done through experience. Pull it to the darkness, to the void inside you. Drink of it deep until nothing remains of the well within him. It may struggle, rip it from him as I did physically."

Revna




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