Private Snowfall At Midnight

[Pom Stych Tivé]

A familiar presence spiked the senses of Pom Stych Tivé as she made her way through the streets of Kuat in search of lodging. She had attended a soiree for the civic minded as Cedric Grayson's guest. Not big on the customs of such matters, she eventually excused herself just as the evening fell on the cusp of becoming quite lively. The fun escaped her perception.

The familiar impression which spiked her attention had certainly not been one she could ever have anticipated. Vytal Noctura is here. Strong in her familiar presence her sister is, and not lost to the demons she had invited to possess her before the great presence of Ashla had stolen Pomsty away from her.

It had been a few months which passed, and Pomsty had been so enthralled by her lessons that she had not reached out to Vytal across the systems. She had made the attempt several times, but failed miserably, the Ashla so very dominant where she made her residence, that she could not determine properly her trajectory to reach out and pinpoint her sister. All the while she held to this fear that her sister is no more. Surely Vytal would not chastise Pomsty for her lack of knowledge in hailing systems, or comm devices which she did neither possess?

Pomsty's own signature in the Force had done a complete 180 turn since she had been pulled away from the Mandragora; and it is only recently that she came into understanding why this event had occurred in the first place. She hoped to speak with her sister now, and explain what had transpired, and why she had been gone for so long. Her voice caught in her throat now, while emotions ran wild, as she froze in her steps just meters away from her kindred.

Others whom she had known were present, but only Vytal deserves her interest. Today the two exist as night and day, a transformation Pomsty began to undergo long before she found herself amidst the deep core of the Ashla, something which had begun as she studied journals discovered in the library of the coven. Pomsty is calming as a gentle snowfall, while Vytal the depths of the midnight hour.

 

[Vytal Noctura]

Was it dangerous for the Nightmother to walk outside of Confederate space? Perhaps near or within territory held by those that may have at best a non-aggression pact? Certainly. Would someone of her stature and heritage, however, allow the possibility of harm or death to dissuade her from traveling the galaxy? That question could only be asked by someone that knew nothing of Vytal Noctura at all. She had left Dathomir to venture to the stars some time ago, and that had been far more fraught with peril. The reasons they might give chase might have changed, but the danger had always been there.

Nevertheless, she had come and strode in the presence of those familiar to her. It was beneficial to see the many worlds of the galaxy. Truthfully, she preferred the less developed ones. Courscant, for example, was not high on her list of worlds to visit. Such a cold, industrial planet had many spirits, but there were far too many of discontent or disbelief at their passing. Little of what the world had been remained after thousands of years.

A raven swept in over the crowd and took perch ahead of the small group. Several sharp toks sounded before its black eyes pierced the pale Dathomiri woman.

Vytal politely encouraged the rest to go ahead as she slowed to a stop and stared at the feathered creature for a moment. it had said more than nearly any other living being would have heard. Someone was close. Someone that sought her attention, yet had not made a move to do so. Yet the spirit of Ryloth did not label it a potential threat though there was some...ambiguity.

Her head turned to the side, the Witch called out to the one behind her, "There is a park near here, if you would like to talk." She would not force them to speak, nor turn to confront them. Their own steps had ceased before hers had. Some manner of doubt or uncertainty seemed to have claimed them. For the moment, Vytal would simply offer them the opportunity to take the next step or decline for another time.

Tag: Pom Stych Tivé

 

[Pom Stych Tivé]

Pomsty’s eyes reflected her instantaneous smile that had arched across her face at the sound of Vytal Noctura 's offer, and yet inside she felt an unexpected sadness, realizing that she had truly changed so much that her sister could not identify her presence by her new Force Signature.

Vytal would not turn to see whose attention she had caught? Without a word Pomsty followed after her sister in the lead, towards the park she claimed to know of. The gravel beneath her feet crackled as she stepped along the path. She could hear her own breath as she lightly let her perception drink in her sister's presence. Memories of their youth swarmed to the forefront of her mind.

That walk felt like an eternity, but still Pomsty refrained from speaking, for she tried to decide as she followed what exactly it is she would say. She could try to explain her lengthy absence, sure, but there is so much that needed to be explained, she is certain it will come out a mess of bits and pieces of information that probably won't tie together very well.

The herbs growing along the path, she took notice of them for a brief moment, but with an unusual sense of lethargy. Her mind remembered how her sister walked, how she carried her hands, and she watched her now with great care, wondering if she would discover intense differences in her now which she could not anticipate.

With the events taking place on Kuat at the moment, not many were outdoors seeking a walk in this park, and for that she is greatly relieved to learn. As she followed behind her sister, Pomsty found she could not contain herself any longer. Tears crumbled her composure.

"Vytal," she said finally.

 

[Vytal Noctura]

Vytal strode toward the park seemingly oblivious to any threat that might be in store or come from the person that followed. She didn't once look back to check if they were following. Both were entirely unnecessary. Besides, the Nightsister had other things on her mind at the moment.

Memories played out before the Witch as her body was set for autopilot. Thoughts and emotions from the past rose both bidden and not. Contemplations, meditations, and consultations alike over time from various sources were reviewed. Even now, in that moment, a voice whispered in her ear of things to come.

Her gait remain the same, one of quick and moderate stride. Arms swung freely, but contributed to her motion rather than impeded it. Vytal's head remain high even while her thoughts were elsewhere; as a woman of Dathomir was not one to be meek, demure, or timid. Their lives were full of challenge since they were children, and they were not coddled as so many offworlder children were. Perhaps Pom might see a subtle change in Vytal's upper body posture, however. She always sought to present an open-chested, upright stance but the weight of responsibility had increased a hundred fold from when she was merely responsible for the fates of four other Sisters.

The one thing that would be unmistakable, however, Vytal did not let Pom see as they walked. Her face remain forward, and her step ahead of the silent visitor.

Pom eventually broke the silence between them, and in that moment time itself seemed to stand still. Vytal's steps ceased and the Nightmother gazed straight ahead for just a second longer. After all, should she not be apprehensive about facing her Sister once more as well? Pom had vanished in the moment Vytal sought to don the mantle of Nightmother heedless of the risk. Things had changed. And there were still...questions.

The timbre of Pom's voice in uttering only Vytal's name, however, demanded a response. That or cutting out her own heart and never speaking again. How wise would she possibly be if she chose the latter?

So, the Nightmother calmly turned in place to face Pom. Her eyelids rose to reveal the green energy that she wielded freely as a conduit between worlds. "Pom." It took more effort than she would have ever thought to reply. She lifted her hands in the hope her Sister had returned intent on connecting once more... Despite the uncertainty in Pom's 'aura' felt by the spirits and herself, it was still Pom. Vytal wouldn't accept her Sister had returned intent on murdering her. Cruel as the galaxy was, dark as the night could become, she was not jaded and filled with distrust even for those she considered family.

Tag: Pom Stych Tivé

 

[Pom Stych Tivé]

The ideology Pomsty understood all throughout her lifetime did not cease to exist because she delved into an existence she had never before been introduced to, in order that she might come into better understanding of it; that would be this Light she had begun to study while still living upon Ryloth. 'We are all woven out of our unique energies cast among the Light and the Darkness,' she used to proclaim, and nothing convinced her that her past ideology is incorrect. Pomsty never believed one extreme Force to be superior to the other, only how people interact matters the most. The most volatile become one's enemies through their actions, not because of their spiritual alignment. There is no way among Heaven nor Hell that Pomsty could ever behold her own sister with any intention for malevolence. Nobody shall ever dictate such a stand to her either. Blood always comes first. Let the rest of the galaxy be at war with its own brothers and sisters over the most ignorant of prejudices!

That she perceived a sense of heartbreak within Vytal’s expression and a hint of trepidation, Pomsty slightly shook her head, understanding the hurt she had inflicted by the conditions surrounding her absence. She also understood that no matter what she can explain away, regarding all that has given her cause to remain here, there is still a more profound fact of guilt that her explanation shall not circumvent. Because of her part in it all, "I'm sorry," is all she could think to say in reparation. The words slipped over her tongue dripping with sincerity. Pomsty has always been the more emotional one of the two.

As Vytal Noctura outstretched her arms seemingly in acceptance, Pomsty approached with rapid steps. She gripped hold of her sister's hands into her own. Even though she felt the touch like ice upon her own flesh, she mused at how the sensation which radiated from Vytal at that very moment caused her to reminisce of the sensations encircling her most precious memories of Home. Pomsty is relieved to deduce that her sister appears in fact to be quite well.

 

[Vytal Noctura]

Vytal grasped her Sister's hands and peered into the depths of her eyes. A small smile surfaced upon her dark lips as they held each other's hands. "Pom, I'm happy to see you. It had been so long," the thought trailed off as she squeezed the other woman's hands gently. There had been times Vytal had thought Pom wanted nothing more to do with her. That somehow she'd offended her Sister or become a monster in her eyes while having only sought to elevate their desires... What if another had demonstrated their worth? Would the Nightsister garner the respect they were due from the offworlders if one of their own did not hold their ear?

"I hope you have been well all this time, and have some yet where we might talk?" Hopefully Pom was not in such a hurry or committed to such a task that there was little chance for them to just talk. Not about affairs of state or needs of some larger group. Just two Sisters of Dathomir going on about their lives and offering to comfort one another from the trials of offworld life.

Ah, and the matter of there being a strange aura about Pom? "It seems we might have much to discuss," Vytal added before she provided another, small smile. Of course she had not missed the change. It had been what threw the spirits off earlier -- they were accustomed to entities remaining more or less static. One's essence did not simply change in their eyes so how could this be the one they knew from before? It was one of the reasons they needed an intermediate to bridge their understanding with that of the mortal realm.

Tag: Pom Stych Tivé

 

[Pom Stych Tivé]

Pomsty felt a relief when Vytal Noctura relaxed. She sensed the pain she had inflicted and prayed it would soothe over before the night became conquered by the light. She nodded in response to her sister's few inquiries.

Yes, it has certainly been a long time.
Yes, I'm well. I pray the same of you.
Yes, I see here is a place we might be free to speak uninterrupted.
And most definitely: Yes, there is much to discuss.

She picked the isolated gazebo in the middle of the park to sit and talk together. The night had progressed and the land danced beneath a veil of shadow. Most of the citizens were at home with their families by now, and only a straggler was spotted here and there walking briskly along the streets under the streetlights, intently focussed on attaining their destination without incident.



A cluster of flowers from an ornamental bush lined the railing around the gazebo, providing a sense of isolation from prying eyes. Pomsty stepped onto the wood landing and sat upon the bench, protected under the canopy.

She would begin to share her story without delay. She owes Vytal this much and more. "When I started studying in the Library of Mandragora, the aspects of Ashla, the methods of the Light of the Force, I unknowingly locked onto the entity which harbors and provides this unique energy field. I drew her in towards a place she did not wish to be. But she was quite curious of us, except for the presence of our Fanged God. This caused them both to clash. And our Fanged God would never tell us anything he does not wish to share. He took advantage of my curiosity to fight with the Ashla…the Winged Goddess, Vytal.

"Needless to say that by the time of your inauguration I had pissed her off exceedingly. She found the precise moment to pounce on me, stealing me away to her servants to be judged." Pomsty looked down at her amulet which once harbored the Spirit of Ichor abundantly, then black Onyx, and now white as Moonstone with a pale blue and gold sheen swirling about it; perhaps equal in vibrant luminance as Vytal's eyes across from her. "I was given a chance to redeem myself for whatever reason. The Light all encompassing to me, I was unable to navigate it to return, as much as it did thoroughly hold my intrigue. I cannot lie. And I thought that you had been entirely consumed. Worse, that you gave up. Everything here is so different. Neither did they shun me, and they are of the same Light claimed by the Jedi we knew together!" These people she met did not shun her, but included her from the start, unlike those among different parts of the Galaxy. "Even the men are…different." She almost blushed, even for the dark shadow which engulfed her features. "They love, not take like savages," she concluded, remarking about the shortcomings of every man she had ever known before.

"I was sad over you, and I was offered residency on my first night. I was also caught up in my curiosity to learn what they knew. But that did not make me what you see today." She knows exactly when it happened! "I was invited to observe an excursion, but my involvement became most necessary. I was needed in two places at once, at least I thought so based on my skills." She turned over a palm. "For necromancy." And then turned over her other palm. "And I was obligated to go to someone from my past who wore my amulet." She compromised the only way she could think to. "I handed a young woman my satchel, entrapped inside was the enslaved Angel which would be loosed to charge the undead. Rapidly I taught her the Incantation to initiate its return to its prison. We learn this before we even hit puberty, but she could not manage it correctly!" Pomsty's voice rose momentarily, exhibiting her sense of disbelief in the outcome of the whole ordeal. She harbors a sisterly love for Loske Treicolt today, and certainly holds none of this blunder against her, for Pomsty is at peace with her transformation! "The Angel locked onto my position and came right up under my feet through the ground at me while I was engaged in physical confrontation with other dastardly creatures." She gripped the talisman for reference regarding that which she would reveal next. "The Legion settled upon me so very quickly that it ripped my demons from me all at once…"

Pomsty immediately froze when she felt the assault strip her of the very essence
of her self which made her who and especially what she had been
throughout all her life! She doubled over and gasped,
clutching at her throat, as the Angel tore apart
her own Soul, from that which
made her whole as
a Sorceress.​

"And the Fanged God only existed in this Talisman as a mere flicker from that point forward. He tried to win me back, he did, even lashed out at my new friends through me. But my Winged Goddess won, with the support of those who surrounded me since, her servants, these Jedi."

It was a lot, she knew. She did not know if Vytal would understand what she shared, or even believe it, so she paused to allow for her questions.

 

[Vytal Noctura]

Vytal accompanied Pom toward the gazebo without complaint or delay. As to the time of night or urgent step of strangers in the area, the woman of Dathomir had time for neither. One need not be afraid of the dark for there were ravenous beasts that prowled the day unseen just as often. It was simply a facet of life and not one worth being anxious about. Naturally, the pampered species didn't understand this.

Graciously, Vytal claimed the seat next to Pom as her Sister launched straight into her tale.

A fine brow lifted as it began with a telling of the Fanged God clashing with the Winged Goddess. True, their aims and means were different. Some would ascribe them the Dark and Light Side of the Force respectively. Nevertheless, direct confrontation was quite rare. That said, Pom was not wrong that the Fanged God chose when and whether to enlighten anyone of anything it did.

The relaxed state of her facial muscles changed the moment the word 'judged' fell from Pom's lips. Judged? By the Ashla or the Winged Goddess? And how would this "Light Side" goddess enjoy it were Vytal to run about abducting her followers for judgment? For surely a follower of the Book of Shadows knew far more of 'judgment' than any of the Book of Law. Despite being the Nightmother, Vytal had not become a being of pure, unadulterated benevolence -- so this matter of taking her Sister for judgment did run afoul of her more malevolent side.

Talk of men and love was noted as being of Pom, but had not broken through the impervium armor Vytal had mentally adopted. One of her favorite weapons on the field were that of claws, and so far Pom hadn't dissuaded the former huntress there was not prey in need of gutting this night.

A slight tick in Vytal's brow followed Pom's careful navigation of her telling. For even as Vytal was mentally poised to strike at any that insulted her Sister or the Nightsisters, she heard every word that was said. Was Pom trying to hide names of those that might be "judged"? She was not so monstrous as to fly into a frenzy -- else she would have already -- so keeping information hidden only fanned the flames.

Once Pom went quiet, Vytal sat in silence for a moment. Slowly she rose and stepped over to one side of the gazebo. Her back to Pom, Vytal pressed a linger to her dark lips as her green eyes bore into the night that surrounded them.

You wanted her free to choose her own path.

The glowing rings turned to slits as a familiar, spiritual voice danced upon her thoughts. Now it deigned to show itself, did it? Here? As though to... gloat? Crow? Perhaps convince Vytal to finish whatever it was it had started, yes?

I would never try to force my Willful Daughter to do anything that was not of her own choosing.

That was not entirely true, but that was the way of the spiritual. Words both held no meaning and every meaning; it was the 'thought' behind them that held weight. And so a stiff wind swept through the open expanse around the gazebo, and threw about the tree tops in a cacophony of rustling leaves. The air within the gazebo, however, remain as still as it had been.

Vytal's finger fell from her lips and she slowly turned back around to face Pom. Her features had been schooled to suppress the ire that had no doubt risen earlier. "How do I know this is what you want, Pom? After all you said to me before. Of home. Of the Fanged God. Of how the Light felt. I would accept you turning to the Book of Law, but I will not do so blindly. Not if there is a chance, as you drew attention to once before, this might not be of your own desire."

Aren't you glad you didn't confide everything to her?

There would be words with the spirit behind that voice. For so long as Vytal's strength could hold, she would refrain from releasing the tempest in this place. Alone, however, there would be words.

Tag: Pom Stych Tivé

 

[Pom Stych Tivé]

Pom was called to be brought forth for judgement, for drawing attention of Winged Goddess to herself, for calling upon the powers of this goddess which Pom was not aligned to. It was heresy. The goddess did not agree to serve purpose to be used to conjure Magick she did not approve. The intention was for Pom to learn how her power works, and how it could be dismantled to take down the Winged Goddess' own children. Would the Fanged God be worshipped during festivals of Light and love, surely he too would protest in abundant tantrums, in order to make himself be wholly understood!

Pomsty had not counted on the tempest she felt amidst her sister. Some sort of emotion indeed, but not of anger or misunderstanding! Yet she did understand, for she lived through it all once before, when the tables in a sense had been turned.

And while there was a time when the two did everything together, they even let their own fate fall into the very hands of one another, it is the existence of secrets which destroyed further depths such deep bonds could reach. Mistrust, brewed a lack of inclusion? If not that, then what was it for?

"We've a pact always, since our youth, you and I. When you need me I will be there for you. It works even on those beneath us, like the magick of the Blood Trail! Had you heard me call since I went missing? Did you see my aura amidst what has swallowed me up? I was a speck of Darkness cast into a great Light!" Did she search?

"Something happened to me, is happening. It is not frightful, I assure you. Even you are evolved to guide both sides of the spectrum. Find you myself too haughty to look upon? True, together we always hated this idea of acceptance, myself perhaps more vehemently than you; but I cannot undo what is done."

She took on a softer tone of voice. "I am safe; I promise you. I am being offered learning regarding what I had actively sought. It was I who went and studied where I should not have peered. I went and stirred powers, toyed with what I knew not of…because our people were not inclusive to show me," she griped that last bit. Her opinion of the Lightsiders of the Mandragora was never one in good light. They never even so much as spoke with Pom.

"I know it must be difficult for you. I thought the very same regarding you. This is much like how I saw you when you suddenly, and without warning to me, gave up to the Legion in front of that man," she spat at the thought of Hashim ordering what he had, and having not been one among the Witches at all, understanding not an inkling about the Way.

Pom shook her head and grunted. Naught but a moment passed before she let loose the pent up feelings and exhaled their release from her being. She locked eyes with a familiar person, and what lay beyond her eyes. "I am delighted to finally see you. Tell me that you do still see me? I do not feel so very different that I have lost my respect for sisterhood." Sisterhood is more important than any spiritual connection she could ever possess, probably even more beloved to a Nightsister than her god. "As I believed I had lost you, and you are yet here before me, so too I assure, you have not lost me either."

She thought for a moment. "How odd. We have perhaps both acquired what has been stripped of the other. Hmm.." She found it quite perplexing and also astonishing.

"I shall return shortly to Dathomir, and learn more about what I am led into. Our heritage still commands my greatest pride." She sought her sisters approval. She had not prepared to be branded with Vytal Noctura 's rejection. She had not emotionally prepared for any of this at all. She simply did her best to contain her emotion, happy in learning that her sister still lives on.

 

[Vytal Noctura]

"Pom," Vytal stepped forward to take her Sister's hand between her own, "whatever anyone ever tells you, always remember this: you are who you choose to be. Let the Jedi and Sith fight about purity of belief. Let them claim to be 'Of the Light' or 'Of the Dark.' We are Nightsisters -- born of the dark, shaped by the dark, but not consumed by it. The Light is not so foreign you cannot explore it. I too desire to know more of it. Nevertheless, even as you are now, you are not barred from becoming like you once were -- you are not a prisoner to the new power you have obtained. There are those of the Force that speak of 'Grey' -- I find this quaint categorization tiresome, but that is what we Witches are. It is not a belief or an immutable part of your existence. It is a lifestyle. An understanding."

A small smile graced the Nightmother's black lips. "Whether you visit the halls of the Mandragora, or roam the surface of our Home, you are the person you wish to become. If you are happy as you are, if this knowledge sates you, then I will be happy with you. However, if you choose to explore the darkness that you feel was stripped of you, I will guide you to whatever depth you desire. There are no boundaries and no barriers except the ones we impose upon ourselves."

A gentle squeeze followed her words. Then Vytal released Pom's hand and lay a few fingertips upon the talisman. "The Fanged God and Winged Goddess are with us all. It is we who choose whether to hear their voices." If there was any rebuke or pain that resulted from touching the moonstone-like talisman, Vytal's features didn't show it. A radiant, green glow shone in the rings of her eyes as her gaze held fast on Pom.

If Pom did choose her own path, if she was happy, then Vytal wouldn't dare demand her to return. That did not mean she was incapable of caring, nor that she felt nothing of the long absence that might follow -- longer than the last even. Yet, sometimes it was necessary for the betterment of another that they be free of emotional weights that would only soul a soul in time. It pained to think Vytal, or those she now led, might be responsible for such negative emotion, but what sort of Nightmother would she be to cling to Pom's wrist as a ball and shackle, hissing and spitting at any that drew near?

With a pat upon her Sister's hand, Vytal straightened up a bit. "Be careful on Dathomir. The Sith have not gotten so brazen to attempt enslaving our people, but they have set upon the gateway to the Nether there. If you suddenly appear in their midst, they might take you to be dissected. Arrive out of sight of their number, and pass as the Sisters that we are. Their interest will be with the Clan Mothers that hold the dark secrets of our people." A word of advice for Pom given the stated intent to return home.

Tag: Pom Stych Tivé

 

[Pom Stych Tivé]

Nightsisters are not found to be consumed by Darkness, as the psychological sickness which specifically inflicts the mental capacities of the Sith. Instead Nightsisters are taught to command the spirits from the cradle. Fear does not befall them for their ways are open and discussed among one another. Nothing much lies in secrecy. All trials are addressed openly, to help one another develop into their power. The coven is strong because of the unity.

Vytal always spoke of Magick as if it were of little effort, and to the well practiced and disciplined mind it certainly is. Pomsty recently feels there is more to what lay out there among the other realm. There must be more than demons and spirits to perform the work, more than their known gods are capable to accomplish. Pomsty had recently gotten the notion that her concept of what makes up a god is far too minuscule than what constitutes an actual all supreme being. A true god should be more than any mere gray brain matter ought be able of comprehending. A god should be the very thing that is beyond being used by mere mortals. An actual god should not be something its own creation be capable of manipulating at all. She started to perceive that what she called gods, are in fact deserving of no such title at all. This insight however, did not disturb her as it would have a few months ago; instead it gave her hope that there may be something greater to the purpose of existence, than life being solely about these demigods which are at constant war with one another.

"When you delve into strict inquiry about the Light, Vytal, something strange just happens to you. It is something regarding which I had no foreknowledge to prepare for, while the Jedi Masters however seemed to just expect it would occur. At the root of it is some cosmic understanding about how everyone else feels about dwelling among each extreme, and how what we do as individuals affects everyone else around us. Not just what we manifest physically, but what we cast in shadow too. It is testimony to the old fable where a butterfly in mid flight in the open field holds the power to generate a tsunami far across the land."

What Vytal said next truly gave her something to ponder. "I agree with you on the point that the fight between the light and the dark was never our fight, but brought forth out of some ancient foreign ideology. I never bought into it more than having my own personal preference, feeling a distaste for the opposing extreme. It was physical though, not mental like these people relate to it. They honestly HATE each other, and want to kill one another over their alignment preference, where we on Dathomir merely felt awkward amidst the presence of one another, and accept our differences. Yet, I cannot reject that stories about our own gods of Dathomir as being described as the oldest regarding such conflict. Not many off-worlders even remember that the story of the Force began with our god, tied to our homeworld. We simply accepted our kindred for being drawn to one side or the other; perhaps there is a balance among us as well, as the Force Users speak about the balance among the Universe. We always understood how the sun dies to create a blackhole. And they consider us uneducated, simply because our customs are our own! But now that I have come to dwell among the opposite extreme, I have no more distaste for it like I used to. I have shifted somehow."

Pomsty peered up at Vytal Noctura as she spoke about the middle of the road alignment. Pomsty never bothered to read into such things as they never pertained to her before. She thought how her sister's understanding had evolved since they last met. "Our wisdom together always provided an impervious front; did it not. I commend you for your own evolution. And thank you dearly for sharing your acquired wisdom with me, as you always have."

Vytal inquired into Pom's happiness. "I am happy Vytal, but not truly fulfilled. I could never be so as we are apart from one another!" And yet in all honesty, Pom has never felt wholly fulfilled anywhere she has been. She pondered how perhaps life is encouraging her to seek out even more of its aspects that is has to offer. She had never forgotten her craft, just looked at it through a different set of goggles. She felt it honestly that she has been wrong to allow anyone else to put a judgement on her as she had. It was the Winged Goddess who had given her cause to feel regret about her past, and remorse over her sins. She hadn't thought of walking in one extreme to be as placing herself inside a sound boundary, and yet she realizes now that this is exactly what she has done. She nodded litely at her sister's words regarding a preference for a more neutral stance. "I see that. That makes perfect sense to me! I shall aspire to open myself to being more well rounded in the future."

Pom caught a sense of what might have been fleeting through her sister's mind. No matter how differently they evolve, nothing could destroy or replace their true bond. "Vytal," she said as she stood finally, "as it was before, so is it today, and ever shall be with me, sisterhood supersedes all bonds, and all fleeting obligation. The sisterhood is ever my life!" Pomsty latched onto her sister in a bearhug. She drank in her aura and was reminded of home, another wonderful joy of life which nothing else can even come close to replace.

She heeded her sister's warning, and would mull over the entire conversation for as long as it took to make the wise words most fruitful. Pom Stych Tivé shall evolve.

What is it the nightmother light like to share with her very own sister regarding the changes she has endured?

 

[Vytal Noctura]

Vytal gazed into Pom's eyes as she spoke. A small smile surfaced as her Sister spoke of being stronger together. it was relieving to know the Pom she knew was not gone, but merely...changed. Whether she basked in the dark as a Nightsister did, or retained her status among these Light-dwellers, there was still the same woman there. Different, but true.

Without forewarning, Pom threw her arms about Vytal. The Nightmother's eyes had widened in surprise, but quickly settled as she wrapped her arms about her Sister's body. "The bond of Nightsisters is never forgotten nor forsaken." Whatever happened as a result of Ryloth, Vytal had never forgotten home. Dathomir and the Nightsisters were quintessential parts of her, and would never be set aside. Though she might need to weigh the needs of home with the needs of two realms; it was a burden Pom at least would not need to bear.

"I cannot leave where I am now, Pom, and I won't ask you to leave yours, but now that we have found one another once more," as they had on Geonosis some time ago, "there's no need for us to be apart. Though I must ask you to stop throwing yourself spontaneously into the Nether and expecting me to fish you out," Vytal playfully chided her Sister. "Not every spirit is tolerant of a mortal in their realm." Not to mention the intervening distance was far vaster between them now. While the distance in the mortal realm did not translate directly into the spiritual, there was a certain...carry over in the minds of mortals that went there. At least, Vytal assumed this was so. With the spiritual an infinitely large realm and there being countless spirits, Vytal didn't want Pom to put herself at unnecessary risk -- even if she was capable of handling herself.

Vytal's eyes strayed to the side for a moment. When she looked back to Pom, a faint smile graced her dark lips. "Though it would seem some have been put at ease to know you no longer have spirits in your possession. As oblivious as most of them are to the Living -- so focused on the one, driving force of their being -- the 'Great Spirits' take note of such things. Then they make note of it to me." Vytal patted her sister's hand. "Fear not, I am no slave of the spirits. From my encounter with godly forces the door to the spirit was left cracked; I merely wedge it open further when it was put to the question would spoke for the spirits. It was overwhelming, but I clawed my way back from the edge. Since then I have sought to keep the flow of energy between our realms balanced as it should be. That is who the Mandragora are; Sisters and Brothers committed to learning and ensuring the continuation of life. Not any one life, but the very system governing its existence."

"Forced to endure the demands of the living and the dead has been trying at times, however. Were that the politicians were dead and the Great Spirits of Old alive. Perhaps then this galaxy would make sense." Vytal gave a soft laugh at the thought.

Tag: Pom Stych Tivé

 

[Pom Stych Tivé]

Pomsty learned to teleport through use of the Empyrean. "I should show you the Empyrean someday, but you would likely receive it with a negative air, it being Ashla's domicile. You would however appreciate it for it's beauty, and that creatures don't lurk within it that want to tear you apart as they do in the Nether. Sometimes bad things get lost in it and are caught, but even they can do no harm." Pom was pleased to hear her sister speak exactly as she remembered her to have been before she got possessed by her legion, and doing the same things she has always loved.

"There are more ethereal beings to assist one than the moody demons with which we are familiar. If only they ever approached Dathomir to have studied them sooner! I have learned that the Angels are quite snobby and a tad moody to offer compliance, but they are strong and thorough. In them I have the help which I am accustomed to!"

Pom had settled into her new role within the Light, and adapted her customary practices to suite her preference. She would never get involved in the fight against dark that is engaged in the galaxy at large. Sisterhood is the strongest bond she has ever known. I do intend to return to Dathomir for a spell. I so wish you could come with me. At first I had never been away without you, and now I will be returning home without you.

Little could she know that her future is not set in stone, regardless of how far she has come at this point. Fate is not yet decided for her. A day is approaching when she will attain the ultimate evolution through a tug of war between her gods. The Fanged God will grant Vytal Noctura her sister back, and Ashla will also have her Sage.

Pomsty started singing a childhood jingle meant to teach young witches about the eternal bond of the Nightsisters with their coven. She began to perform the ceremonial dance right there under the canopy of the gazebo, coaxing Vytal to join in. No force can undo what years of familiarity have bonded together, when the two involved happen to be Nightsisters.