Of Cardinal Virtues

[Mav Halo]

[SIZE=10.5pt][member="Darth Carach"]'s Private Sanctorum[/SIZE]
[SIZE=10.5pt]The Citadel of the [/SIZE]Sith Triumvirate
Ruusan; Hoth's Brand System

________________________________________​

[SIZE=10.5pt]Standing with all the ramrod precision of a military veteran, her hands neatly tucked in the small of her back, Shae Corvani hardly looked at ease as she waited for her Master to make his presence known. Patience was, as her father had often reminded her, a cardinal virtue. Yet the collection of dusty tomes and tawdry looking relics that filled the private study could only serve to distract a person for so long. After which, the seconds began to feel like years, with each laboured tick of the clock corresponding with a flicker of frustration through the blonde woman’s frame. If patience could be considered a virtue, then surely punctuality must be of the divine itself.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10.5pt]Her lips compressed into a thin, irritable line. Her mind sifting through the possibilities and hidden realities that invariably arose in such bleak stretches. Was this some form of obscure test, perhaps? If so, it was positively barbaric, even by the twisted and slanted standards of the Sith. It was He that drew her from the One Sith, luring her away with whispered promises of power and knowledge, the likes that would have evaded her grasp had she remained. Surely He wouldn’t have gone to the trouble of baiting her to simply toy with her like this.

The sound of footsteps resonating down the hallway drew her attention away before she could answer that question, facilitating a reaction that was equal parts consternation and relief. Reflexively she stood a little straighter, throwing her shoulders back so that her attire conformed the expensive and well-tailored line. If He had been even a hairsbreadth earlier He might have earned a polite, if cool welcome. Instead, as the handle turned, He was relegated to a simple, curt remark. More of a statement, really.

“[/SIZE][SIZE=10.5pt]You are late.[/SIZE][SIZE=10.5pt]”[/SIZE]

 

[Jairus Starvald]

[member="Shae Corvani"]

Any other Sith Lord would have electrocuted her on the spot for the audacity displayed right now, but as often stated: Carach was not like most other Sith Lords.

He picked his apprentices carefully.

Very carefully.

Audacity, the ability to think for themselves, resourcefulness and a fiery temperament that made them bold; those were all traits he considered important for the best candidates. One only needed to look at [member="Matsu Xiangu"] to see what happened when the apprentice was just right.

She was a powerhouse in her own name now.

Sometimes it even made Carach a little bit teary-eyed to see how successful and powerful she had become over the years.

“Your first lesson, apprentice.” the Triumvir replied calmly as he closed the door behind him, brushed past her and took up the seat behind the study.

“A Sith Lord is never late, others are merely early.”

With that lesson dispensed his attention shifted away from her and instead locked itself up on the paperwork roaming around his table. Part of him wondered if he could get her to sign all of this, then he could go out and do something more interesting with his time.

But by the looks of it Shae was no scholar.

Then again. Carach didn’t look like a scholar either, so maybe she would prove to have some hidden depths after all.

The Sith started to sign a few papers here and there.

It was almost as if Corvani’s presence was forgotten.

 

[Mav Halo]

[SIZE=10.5pt]As the prodigal daughter of an illustrious and noble bloodline, being the other side of such a casual, offhanded rebuff was a new and wholly different experience for Shae Corvani. It was one, she quickly decided, that she did not enjoy in the least. The frown deepened a fraction, knuckles turning white as she tightened her grip, her irritation flaring to an almost palpable degree before she managed to reign it in. Her features become schooled to a mask of rigid impassiveness.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10.5pt]A façade that, to her credit, lasted perhaps a whole seven minutes before it began to crack around the edges. The pregnant silence weighing oppressively on her shoulders, broken only by the faint sounds of breathing and the occasional tap of a data pad.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10.5pt]Once more her gaze returned to the familiar bound tomes, their lettering seeming like old, yet distant friends now. Most were unintelligible, written in dialects she butcher, let alone read. Others she had only heard of in passing, volumes so rare that her former teachers would have, and likely had, skinned someone alive to possess. All were beyond her mortal ken.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10.5pt]For now.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10.5pt]“[/SIZE][SIZE=10.5pt]And the second?[/SIZE][SIZE=10.5pt]”[/SIZE] [SIZE=10.5pt]She finally spoke, hardly bothering to conceal the clipped undercurrents that had invaded her tone. A choice that may very well have run the gauntlet of earning her master’s ire, yet it was a risk she was willing to take if only to break up the monotony down to something more bearable. She was his apprentice, a fact [member="Darth Carach"] had confirmed by his own voice, not some attendant or hanger on, waiting for scraps or a passing kind word. “[/SIZE][SIZE=10.5pt]I assume that someone of your keen wisdom has more than one lesson to impart.[/SIZE][SIZE=10.5pt]”[/SIZE]

 

[Jairus Starvald]

[member="Shae Corvani"]

To her credit she lasted longer than he had expected her to.

A whole… Carach pointedly looked at the clock hanging behind her… oh well, then. A whole seven minutes of silence mixed with frustration, brooding and a lot of bruised hubris thrown in. Most people forgot - or never realized - that they were interacting with a mentalist.

It took a lot to obfuscate or even hide intent and thought from him.

With Corvani… he didn’t even need mentalism to see her frustration. The tightly-clenched hands, that particular set of the jaw that was very difficult to properly rein in and the thoughts of murder spelled out across her eyes.

A spitfire indeed.

“You are already learning it.” the former Voice of the Dark Lord responded after a while. She was right, of course. He had bigger plans for Shae than let her stand in the middle of his office in silence doing nothing. That would have been an immense waste.

But some people - especially the pampered ones, needed a healthy dose of realism coming pouring over them.

“On Teta you were a scion of proud nobility. Understand that this means absolutely nothing here.”

Carach stood up and suddenly his height would be more… pronounced. Oh, she was taller than most, but few could match the Triumvir and currently he was towering. Looming even, like a recently-waked up Krayt Dragon.

And you know how groggy and annoyed those lizards can be.

“Your status as my apprentice will not protect you either.” Well, that wasn’t exactly true. She was privileged, more than she would ever know, but unlike some Carach would not allow her position to be a shield.

“You must learn to be patient, to control your emotions instead of letting them control you like a petulant child, to be mindful of the power structures that surround you and the necessity to swallow your pride.” He rounded around the table and leaned against it, now they faced each other.

A shrug of his shoulders followed.

“Learn all this and true power may be yours.”

Not the nonsensical ‘power’ that those of the One Sith thirsted for or the fleeting foundation of the Republic. But real power was not tied to any nation. It was eternal and only depended on the sharpness of your mind, the strength of your resolve and the willingness to do whatever it took - even if it meant waiting seven minutes or seven years - before executing your plans.

“Of course, I never force my keen wisdom and bountiful lessons on my apprentices. You are free to leave right now, a ship will return you to Teta and you may continue on doing… whatever it was you were doing.”

With that said and done Carach simply returned to his seat, settled himself down and resumed his scribbling.

She would either stay or go.

The choice was hers.

 

[Mav Halo]

[SIZE=10.5pt]It went without saying that [member="Darth Carach"] was an imposing sight to be behold up close. He must have dwarfed the Tetan by a good foot and more, yet his size was only a small fraction of what made up the sheer weight of presence. Unlike the cheap parlour tricks that her Krath teachers had lorded over, the once Voice of the Dark Lord was a source of power. True power. It was what had drawn Shae to his side in the first place, forsaking everything she knew for a chance to harness even a tenth of what he possessed. She desired nothing more. Wanted nothing more. Needed nothing more.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10.5pt]For that shewas willing to steel her back, matching his sulphurous gaze with her own burgundy hues, stilling her tongue as he proceeded to dress her down and scold her. Few would have even dreamed, let alone dared, to do so back on Empress Teta. Not even her father had spoken to her in such a tone. It was a shame that the core of the message was fell on such deaf ears. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=10.5pt]“[/SIZE][SIZE=10.5pt]I will not, and have not, asked for preferential treatment once.[/SIZE][SIZE=10.5pt]” Her voice may have sounded almost petulant to her own ears, like that of a scolded child, yet there was an element of iron determination lurking just beneath the surface. She would not allow herself to be cowed by such a display; her knee would bend, but not her spirit. It would take more than a few harsh words and cutting criticisms to do that. “[/SIZE][SIZE=10.5pt]I have only ever asked for a chance to learn. A chance to grow, as you were given, into something more. Something greater.[/SIZE][SIZE=10.5pt]”[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10.5pt]She turned, gesturing at the shelves with a sweep of her arm. “[/SIZE][SIZE=10.5pt]Yet I fail to understand how I am expected to do so in a study filled with dusty books and scrolls - most of which are in languages that were dead long before my ancestors even sired my line.[/SIZE][SIZE=10.5pt]” Those red eyes rounded back on him once more as she stepped towards the desk. “[/SIZE][SIZE=10.5pt]Nor how I will find knowledge in empty silences. Give me an order and see it done. Give me a lesson and see it learnt. I have already given you my fealty; do not waste it on such trivial matters like this.[/SIZE][SIZE=10.5pt]”[/SIZE]

 

[Jairus Starvald]

[member="Shae Corvani"]

Carach suppressed a smile.

“You missed my point, but at the very least you have backbone.”

She was intelligent, clearly, if lacking in judgement. But that was a common ailment of the youth, something that could surely be channeled into the right direction if attempted.

She hadn’t left either.

This showed commitment and already a willingness to swallow her pride. A girl like Corvani was not used being talked down to like this, so the fact that she wasn’t stomping around like a baby told him his investment was sound.

Ah well.

Perhaps it was time to be a little bit more practical in his lessons. The theoretical course could wait for a different moment.

“Very well then. If the theory is not to your liking, we can go straight into the practical. Follow, please.”

After which the Sith Lord suddenly vanished and reappeared behind her back. It could have been teleportation or perhaps an illusion played on her mind, maybe he had been standing there all this time already.

Who really knew with Carach.

The door opened and they would walk for some time. The stairs down and down and down and down, and the farther they went the stronger the Force became. They were closing in on the source of the nexus on Ruusan.

Eventually the stairs ended and a long hallway began. Torches were sparingly used to decorate the walls and bring some light against the shadows.

“Forgive the medieval solution. Anything electrical behaves… erratically so close to the source.”

The crisp sturdy walls would progressively change as they continued their walk. From man-made to more stoney and natural.

A light appeared in the distance.

Natural light this time.

The Citadel of the Triumvirate was established over the Valley of the Jedi, but unlike some Sith and the Jedi the Triumvirate was less interested in wanton destruction of cultural heritage. The Darkside was strong here - with their Adepts twisting the nexus to their goals - but the most of the Valley was preserved for the meantime.

Maybe that would change later.

“We will fight.” the Sith said as they stepped on soil. His cloak and robe fell to the side, leaving his upper body bare. The last thing he wanted was to sully the textile with her blood.

That would be annoying to wash off.

“Don’t hold back, because I won’t. Begin.”

 

[Mav Halo]

[SIZE=10.5pt]Faced with the sudden disappearance, and then reappearance, of a man Carach’s size and build, it is perhaps not too surprising that Corvani gave ground in a form of a reflexive step backwards. Illusion had been the cornerstone of the Krath tradition for millennia, yet she had never seen such a deft or flagrant display of such techniques first hand. In one move alone, he’d validated her choice in coming here – and, just now, in staying.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10.5pt]“[/SIZE][SIZE=10.5pt]As you will.[/SIZE][SIZE=10.5pt]” She acquiesced with a small nod, the sudden shift in his demeanour robbing her of the smuggles that might very well have prevailed in another time and place. Like in power and rank, as in life, she followed his path several large steps behind, noting barely nothing of their surroundings as she focused solely on Carach’s advancing form. She found herself almost willing him to repeat the vanishing trick once more. Hungry for another display of what would be one day hers. Maybe not now, nor necessarily in the near future, but one day.She just had to prove herself worthy in the present. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=10.5pt]“[/SIZE][SIZE=10.5pt]The source?[/SIZE][SIZE=10.5pt]” Corvani queried as she stepped out on to the basin, her breath giving way to a slight, unbidden hitch as she received her answer immediately. It was impossible to compare as everything she had felt up until this point paled in comparison. No, there was considerable power here. Power that, unlike the name of the Valley itself, certainly did not belong to the Jedi. Not anymore. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=10.5pt]And [member="Darth Carach"] seemed to be a stone in the river in her mind’s eyes, a singular being standing tall amidst the ebb and flow of power that surged around them. It danced like electric fire across her skin. Hateful and twisted, yet strangely welcoming all the same. “[/SIZE][SIZE=10.5pt]I had heard the other apprentices speak of this place, but I never thought…[/SIZE][SIZE=10.5pt]”

She trailed off with a small shake of her head, forcing such thoughts aside. They were immaterial now. He had brought her here to test her, not have her weak kneed and awestruck by their surroundings. Her hand slipped towards the lightsaber at her waist, the blade igniting into an angry crimson as she brought it to bear. Lacking proper instruction in the official forms, she slide reflexively into the relaxed stance of the Tetan Royal Protectors, her spine straight and limbs loose. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=10.5pt]“[/SIZE][SIZE=10.5pt]Very well. Lets.[/SIZE][SIZE=10.5pt]”[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10.5pt]Before the last word had even tumbled from her mouth, the apprentice was already moving forward at a quick dash, lightsaber arching out in an opening cut. A bold, probing strike to assess her master turned opponent.[/SIZE]

 

[Jairus Starvald]

[member="Shae Corvani"]

It almost seemed as if a third arm grew out of the Sith Lord’s back. Muscular and strong it reached out and grabbed hold of the lightsaber - the plasma hissed and his skin sizzled as it burned against him, and yet the skin held.

The discipline of tutaminis allowed many a thing, but basically it meant the absorption and conversion of energy.

“Good, strike when your opponent is at his weakest.” the Sith commented almost casually while his flesh burned.

His back faded away and in its place was his frontal features.

“But always be wary of your opponent presenting his weak point.”

The involuntary reaction to someone grabbing hold of your weapon was to pull against it and so the Sith did two things once did happen: his free hand lashed up and a strong push exploded from the palm.

Kinetic energy would be released into the form of his Apprentice.

At the same time he would let go of the saber: combined with her jerking against it would leave her even more unbalanced, both factors would mean one flying apprentice.

“Again.” Carach commanded.

In the meanwhile the black and angry red burns on his hand were starting to fade.

 

[Mav Halo]

[SIZE=10pt]There was a flash of gritted teeth as the apprentice found her blow so easily intercepted, finding herself face to face with yet another illusion, one she should have anticipated. A foolish mistake; one that would have seen her head parted from her shoulders in any other battle. A fresh surge of irritation through her veins, this time directed more at herself than her master, lending themselves as an extra ounce of strength as Corvani attempted to pry her lightsaber free from the man’s smouldering grasp. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=10pt]“[/SIZE][SIZE=10pt]And if my opponent’s weak points are not visible?[/SIZE][SIZE=10pt]” She ground out even as she ground her weapon into his palm, posture adjusting to apply more pressure to the blade itself. “[/SIZE][SIZE=10pt]How am I supposed to tell one reality from the next, when my opponent can shift them at a whim?[/SIZE][SIZE=10pt]”[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10pt]Her answer, such as it was, came in the form of a roughly applied palm thrust that lifted her off the ground, flinging her back several feet across the valley floor. Only an instinctual application of inertia stopped her from completely falling head over heels, helping her retain her balance as she skidded to a muddy stop. It was a gentle rebuke as all things were considered. The message behind it stinging far more than blow to her chest.

“[/SIZE][SIZE=10pt]Again.[/SIZE][SIZE=10pt]” She agreed, returning to her opening stance. As one sided as that encounter had been, it had gifted her with one bit of pertinent information. Frontal assaults would earn her little against an opponent like [member="Darth Carach"]. The difference in power and skill were too immense. Very well, plan Besh it was.

Much like its previous rendition, plan Besh started very much the same in almost every regard, opening with Shae putting her speed and aggression to good use as she cleared the distance between herself and her master in the space of a stolen heartbeat. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=10pt]The notable difference was the slight shift in her grip, swapping the blade from two to one hands, the blade leading in from the right while her left whipped up in a sharp motion as she drew within striking distance. Throwing up a telekinetically manipulated cloud of dirt, dust and grit that would hopefully obscure her second attempt to eviscerate her master.[/SIZE]

 

[Jairus Starvald]

[member="Shae Corvani"]

Carach waited patiently for her to collect her thoughts and intentions. This might have made it look like he wasn’t taking this very seriously, but that would be a mistaken assumption, because Carach was taking this extraordinarily seriously, because this wasn’t about winning. The Sith Lord wasn’t trying to win and neither did he expect Shae to score a hit to win herself.

It was about learning.

"Resourcefulness, very good." The Sith replied half a moment before Corvani went in for the attack… almost as if he could read every single thought and intent before she applied them.

"Using the environment against your opponent will serve you well."

The statement was said with casual flippant and just as the spoken word was relaxed, so was his physical reply against her attack.

Just as it was relaxed it was also a very simple response.

Once again his palm reared itself, lashing up, but instead of a physical push… this one was far more effective. Powered by the strengths of the Valley a wall of pressured air erupted from his hand and bashed away the carefully arranged dust cloud… and it also bashed right into the face of one Corvani, before she could even come close to him.

"To win a battle… one must realize the game your opponent is playing, refuse to play along and invent a game of your own."

Interestingly enough this was a remark to the current situation, how he had acted in the face of her new tactic - because why would Carach wait for a deadly opponent to come to him, if he could end the attack before she had arrived? - and also an answer to her previous question.

"Again."

 

[Mav Halo]

With the tables so efficiently and quickly turned on her once more, Corvani was caught off guard by the combined assault of both [member="Darth Carach"] and her own attack redirected back at her. Buffeted by dust and unseen force, this time the valley really was treated to the spectacle of a flying apprentice, the blonde apprentice crashing and tumbling across the soil, her expensive clothes irrevocably ruined by the experience. They were easily replaced. The damage to her pride, not so much.

She had known the difference between their levels was a vast chasm, but never fully comprehended just how much until this very second. It wasn’t just a simple question about power, either. In both instances, other than the illusion, he had used relatively simple techniques to counter and defeat her in short order. No, it was about knowledge and experience. A grasp on both that she simply did not possess at this present moment. A fact that was painfully obvious in the way he toyed with her.

“And if the game is beyond you?” The apprentice remarked, half to herself, as she hauled herself to her feet, pausing only to spit a thin, globby trail of blood onto the soil. Between the busted lip, dishevelled state of her clothes and dirt marred features, she must have struck quite the impressive sight. “You are reading my attacks two moves ahead. In my mind, that is less a battle and more the definition of a massacre.”

There was a bitter twist of her lips as she recovered her lightsaber, turning the blade over in her hand. “Attacking you right now would earn me nothing, save for another taste of dirt and defeat. But that is by design, yes?”

She let out a soft, dry laugh. Humorless to a fault. “This is still the same lesson that began in the study, is it not? Very well, where words failed to reach, blunt force has succeeded. I have little choice but to concede the battle.”

For now.

 

[Jairus Starvald]

[ [member="Shae Corvani"] ]

“A Sith uses every tool in his possession, my Apprentice.

There is no honor in a duel.

No convenient fabric of courtesy that will save your neck during war.

And above all there is no Sith alive who will not abuse your pride once they realize just how much of a weakness it really is."

The Sith Lord chastised lightly. His arms locked behind his back, his eyes amused and brow clear from frowns: he did not seem displeased by her lack of progress by any means.

"You wish me to teach you in the arts. You wish to become better than you are, to become a deadly weapon who will destroy your enemies and gain the capability of seizing true power and might." A nod towards her to illustrate his willingness to teach her.

"Very well. I will do this for you and you will hate me for it."

Part of the progress, really. Xiangu had never hated him, she had soaked up his teachings willingly and gladly, but his first apprentice had been one of a kind, a woman full of fiery passion, but with enough wisdom to temper herself in the critical moments.

Cold anger armored in steel resolve.

Truly dangerous. Would Corvani ever reach that height? Carach thought so, but he would have to deconstruct her, strip her from her pride and rebuild her into something more than she was right now.

Carach suddenly appeared in front of her. Tall, imperial and entirely unimpressed with whatever thoughts she was currently fostering. His large hand went to rest on her - by comparison - little shoulder.

The moment it touched her everything faded away… until they were suddenly in his office again.

With him sitting behind the desk and her standing in front of it.

Had any of it truly happened? Or was it just another one of his lessons wrapped around in shadows, decorated by riddles and packed by mysteries?

Only the blood in her mouth could truly tell her, unless even the blood wasn’t real.

"You have done well, altogether. I am pleased with your progression. You have earned the right to one honest answer to any question, you may save it up for later as well, of course."

 

[Mav Halo]

[SIZE=10.5pt]To her credit, Shae managed to school her features into an appropriate level of bland opaqueness as the world around her began to shiver and writhe, appearing to unravel at the seams as [member="Darth Carach"] ended the charade. The only outward sign appearing in the white hues her knuckles achieved as they reflexively tightened around the hilt of her lightsaber.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10.5pt]Again, she was struck by the vast difference between the Krath and her master. They were simply fools playing with vexing the mind with simple shapes and shadows, barely even scratching the surface of what the man before her was capable. As deft as a master craftsman or the finest artist, he had layered illusion upon illusion, weaving them together to form an entirely separate bubble of reality. Was it even real? The bruises slowly blooming across her face seemed to think so, yet her mind was not so sure.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10.5pt]Like a snake eating its own tail, there was no telling when and where the illusion begun and reality ended. For all she knew, she could have been under his control long before she had even entertained setting foot in the study. A study she wasn’t even sure she was currently standing in.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10.5pt]The thought was as nauseating as it was convoluted, reflected in the faint twist that twisted her battered and bloodstained lips into a further painful frown. Yet she could not bring herself to voice her displeasure. Mentalism, while distasteful, was as keen a weapon as any. More so, if the recent example was anything to go by.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10.5pt]She suspected that it was barely a fraction of the power Carach could truly bring to bear if he saw her as a serious opponent. Another sting to the already abused pride. If such lessons were to become a reoccurring theme, then she truly would come to hate him. If she did not already.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10.5pt]“[/SIZE][SIZE=10.5pt]I will ask my question now.[/SIZE][SIZE=10.5pt]” Corvani straightened her back and folded her hands behind her back, trying to regain a measure of her earlier composure and steel. In truth she had two questions, yet she would not lower herself to voicing the most obvious. She had embarrassed herself quite enough for one day without further adding indignity with a piteous ‘Why me?’. “[/SIZE][SIZE=10.5pt]What manner of training would I need to undertake if I wanted to avoid falling prey to such illusions and trickery again? If I am, as you say, to become a weapon, then it should be one that can discern truth from fiction. A weapon that is otherwise can only be considered one in name alone. And scarcely that.[/SIZE][SIZE=10.5pt]”[/SIZE]