The Abyss Looks Back

[Kyyrk]

Voph advanced slowly, closing the distance between him and the spectre, blade held at the ready. The Spectre, eager for the ensuing battle, spun his blade in anticipation, before lunging forward to connect with Voph's own blade. Voph stepped into the block, locking sabers with the Spectre in a test of strength. But before Voph could retaliate, the walls began to shift around them, as spirit after spirit manifest before them. Voph disengaged from the saber lock, and turned to look around him.

"You're surrounded old man. She brought you back before, She can bring you back again. And this time she won't make the same mistake she did last time. Come quiet, and tell your friend to leave the portal open, will you? Makes things ever so much easier."

Voph's head turned, looking at one waiting spectre, then another. Then another. Before finally turning back to Vytal. Voph seemed to be at a loss for words for a moment, before simply saying, "Do it."

Then the room erupted into chaos. Voph's arm rose, hand outstretched calling for his Lightsaber to return home. It sprung to life mid flight, pale violet blade matching its brother. Behind him, the Disciple sprang into action as the spectres moved as one. Their target was Vytal, and preventing her from closing the portal. Voph spun, bring one blade high, then continued the spin to bring the other low. The Disciple was prepared, and deflected the blocks with ease, but was taken aback when Voph disappeared from view.

Voph had vaulted in a high jump backwards towards the portal, bringing his lightsabers together to fuse into the saberstaff configuration. Voph knelt at his landing beside Vytal and murmered, "Ancestor be with me." He stood, blade spinning into a malestrom of deadly energy as Lightning began to spark from both blade and hand. Voph turned and spun, Lightsaber spinning in hand and air, his empty hand casting all manner of lightning and corruption. Sith he was no longer, but he was still a highly formidable opponent. Against the chaos, the Disciple stood, watching quietly as Voph lay waste to the attacking spirits. It was waiting...nay, watching. Reporting.

Voph, however, held the line. Wounds were taken, blows were traded, but the Desolation of Zakuul held fast. Spinning and leaping, blades forming into a single staff, and breaking to twin swords as required by their wielder, Voph danced among the spectres until only a single one stood.

The Disciple smiled and nodded. "I see you've not lost your touch, old man. Even if you are as predictable as ever. But then perhaps the galaxy does not know you as well as I knew you...

...Father."

Vytal Noctura ​

 

[Vytal Noctura]

An echo of green energy tracked Vytal's eyes as they scanned the twisted spirits hauled out on display before them. One was bad enough. A host of them proved a pattern. It showed malicious intent and a desire to use the dead -- spirits that may be seeking to return to the Whole and contribute to the continuation of all life (the Force as they called it) -- against their will; and disrupting the natural process of their return. True, some did not wish this and fought it at every turn. Nevertheless, even they did not deserve enslavement, and Vytal doubted these had assembled of their own accord.

She made no effort to hold onto possession of the man's other blade. It would do the Nightmother no good in her task, and would mean everything to the man trained in its usage. Nor did she turn her power against those seeking to rip her to pieces -- they would be Voph's challenge to surmount.

"Sisters, hear me, one seeks to subjugate us in life and in death. Let us end their suffering," the Dathomiri hissed softly even as Voph murmured his own chant. Today they would close the portal. Tomorrow they would put an end to the one responsible for the travesty on display around her now.

Ghosts of green mist began to bleed into the chamber. The streams circled and began to take shape about the portal before the pale woman whose arms were spread out before it. A Nightsister of Dathomiri always held an advantage most lacked without considerable effort -- she could call upon her Sisters that had already passed on to aid her in magicks the likes of which would drain the color from most offworld species. They would help seal the portal quickly.

The shrill cries of Nightsisters were heard far and wide as they danced and began to form a funnel that stretched forth over head. They plucked the threads that bound two worlds together and unmade that which held the portal open.

Tag: Kyyrk​

 

[Kyyrk]

Voph's nostrils flared under his helmet as he exhaled sharply. Father. The word rang in his head like a curse. Father. As the portal began to close behind him, Voph deactivated his lightsabers and returned them to his belt. "I never wanted this for you, Cortrin. I never wanted any of this."

The Disciple didn't speak, instead beginning to pace as Voph spoke. "I can help you. You can be free of her."

"Look at you. Thousands of years of torment at her hands, the very thing you swore to me in secret you would destroy, and you still speak as though one of them."

Voph sighed quietly. He was keenly aware of Vytal's presence behind him, and felt... conscious of the matter discussed in her presence. "You know as well as I, son, that I will never be redeemed. Even the Jedi knew I was a lost cause. But that does not change what I must do."

The Disciple screamed in rage, and threw his lightsaber at Voph. The blade was easily deflected as Voph's own sprang back to life, the red beam spinning away to a far corner, before slowing to a stop and reversing trajectory. The Disciple sprinted towards Voph and kept into the air, intending to grab his blade and plunge it down into Voph's armor. Voph stepped to the side as The Disciple landed, turning to as to ignite his second blade...

...into his son's back.

Not a word was spoken. The hiss of saber against flesh echoed around the chamber for a moment, before Voph turned his blades off, and moved to catch his son's body as it began to fall. Voph knelt on the hard stone floor as the Disciple gasped a few final words. The conversation was hushed, but not so that Vytal could not hear it. "There are...others."
"I know."
"Sovryn...has...has a...holocron."

Voph turned to look at Vytal as the Disciple said this. He didn't respond to the Disciple, aside from turning his gaze back to the dying being in his lap.

"I'm....sorry...I....I tried..."
"You shouldn't have been a part of this. You had earned your rest. I never have, nor will I ever, hold I'll will against you, son. I'm proud of you."
"Promise me...you'll...finish them."
"Or die trying."

The Disciple was quiet for a while then said, "Thank...you...father..."

The room lapsed into silence as the body went limp. Voph remained motionless for a moment, then reverted to the grim business manner Vytal had surely grown accustomed to. He stood, letting the body rest on the floor of the entryway, and turned to the door. "Welcome to the Pilgrim's Rest, Nightmother. She is yours to use and inhabit as you, or any of our Confederacy, see fit for the purposes of exploring the realm beyond realms. And I thank you for your assistance in securing it."

Voph stepped outside to the top of the stairs, looking out over the small island. The golden dome of the observatory shone in the dusklight, perched on the water beyond the islands edge. Rain began to streak down his good and armor, but Voph paid it no mind. "If I can be of further assistance, my services are always yours." He turned to look at Vytal directly and continued, "I shall find suitable compensation for your efforts, and see that they are delivered shortly."

Vytal Noctura

 

[Vytal Noctura]

The tempest of green, spiritual energy faded as the portal was sealed. Vytal did not move even with the business concluded. Her head turned in their direction, and she met Voph's gaze when he looked up at her. Not a word was spoken, however. Not a thought shared. Whether this was the first or merely the last parting the family members shared, nothing she had to say was so important as to tread on this moment.

Slowly the Nightmother turned, but she did not follow in the man's footsteps immediately. Her eyes passed over the fallen on the floor there. Who they were. What had transpired. What they had said. No doubt much the man would rather have kept from any other living being's ears. It begged questions, as did much of the man's past whenever some kernel was uncovered. With each new answer it seemed the depth of his tale grew, as did the darkness surrounding it.

After a moment, she proceeded to follow Voph toward the platform he occupied at the top of the stairs. His words of welcome registered, but were a mere contrivance. Welcome to a secret place in the Nether, purchased with the price of blood and the knowledge of the chasm that lay ahead. Had it been worth it? She would never utter otherwise. This place, however, was not so important that she would have asked Voph to slay his own child for it. Nor expect him to do so. Yet there had been no turning back once the 'trap' was sprung. Vytal worried Sovryn fully expected the result. She worried it was part of a greater scheme, and an effort to whittle away at Voph before the final battle was joined.

"As are mine," the Nightmother replied to the man's offer of service. Vytal turned to face him as he did her. She would not look upon him with pity, but neither were Nightsisters as heartless as people portrayed them. She understood the path he walked, but had seen Nightbrothers drown in their sorrows without someone to reach out to them. "You would honor me with such. In turn, let me extend an open invitation for you among the Mandragora in whatever camp we secure here or in the mortal realm." He would need sanctuary and support in the days -- perhaps decades -- to come. Vytal would not underestimate the lengths to which this Sovryn would go if she would sacrifice child or husband as pawns on a board.

Tag: Kyyrk​

 

[Kyyrk]

Voph folded his arms over his chest, and looked out over the island below. He seemed calm. As if the death of his son did not disturb him in the slightest. After all, why would it? He had lost many in the course of his life. His son had already been judged a loss upon his reawakening. Voph turned to look through the doorway into the large antichamber. Voph sighed quietly, gesturing back into the large fortress, that seemed to be even larger from within. "The portal out is in there. Along with a barracks, library, grand halls...anything you might need to host an expedition." It wasn't working. Voph was speaking to distract himself from the overwhelming agony that was moving to consume him. His arms unfolded, and his hands raised to draw his hood back, then lift the helmet from his shoulders. Voph's hair fell about his head, and his gaze turned to the lifeless body of Cortrin on the floor.

Then, in a flash of movement, Voph turned and threw the helmet out into the wild, down the stairs to disappear into a tuft of grass with a metal clang as it struck a rock. But more overpowering was the inhuman howl that issued from his lips. Voph sank to his knees, his chest convulsing in a few choked sobs as his tears began to mix with the rain. Voph's shoulders slumped, and for a moment, he looked more defeated than he perhaps ever had. Voph sighed heavily as he fought to recenter himself. "I...I just wanted time. Time to be his father..." Voph turned to look over his shoulder, holding no shame in openly mourning his son. Only the second of two beings to ever garner such a response from him. "I hardly raised him. He was kept in the care of a friend. Protection from the Sith. I...I wish I could have known him better. That he was not a pawn in this cruel game."

Voph sat silent for a moment, gaze transfixed on the body of his son. "He should have been left to rest a long time ago." Voph pushed himself to his feet, and turned to look at Vytal, for a moment, but his gaze drifted back to his son as he spoke. "I will take the body. Return to Vylmira. Offer my son the burial he deserves. Then we had best discover what we can about this Holocron of Sovryn. And I think I know a place to start." Voph's sadness and anger had subsided, now replaced with the dull and determined tone that usually haunted his voice. And in that moment, Vytal was offered a glimpse into Voph's person that was rarely explained.

He hurt. Deeply, and irreparably. Voph's strong sense of duty had once been an admirable trait. Now it was simply a veil to mask the pain. To take his mind from all the lives that had been lost through his action, or inaction. And in that moment, the true horror of Voph's resurrection was made apparent. When Death had finally taken him, it was a chance to let go. To return the pain and weight that he carried into the void. But he was brought back, and enslaved by it once again. Was it possible for him to heal? Perhaps. But it would take time. A long time. Perhaps more time than he had in the mortal world.

Voph stepped forward, and knelt long enough to pick up the body. He stood, looking down at the limp figure in his arms, and said, "You asked me on the Desolation what I would do, if confronted by Sovryn." Voph fell silent, as if considering his options. But he did not have to. He knew the answer since before Vytal asked it. Only strengthened in his resolve by the sight of his son's body in his arms. Voph turn his head to the side in a gesture resembling looking over his shoulder before he walked into the shadows of the fortress to return home, and gave Vytal her answer.

"I'm going to kill her."

Vytal Noctura ​

 

[Vytal Noctura]

A Nightsister was nothing if not patient. Vytal once learned of a Clan that had been slaughtered that waited the living to trespass to take possession of their bodies. Such devotion to a cause, to remain so true to themselves even after death awaiting such hosts. It was inspiring. The same could not be said here as it would not be long before the dam burst; however, Vytal stood by the man's side and listened as he spoke. Ever the dutiful, polite, and generous host. One that offered a sanctuary for those that followed her to use in exploring the Nether.

And all the while, the body of his son lay on the ground, undisturbed with a stray glance here or there from their father.

Stoic. Composed. Strong. It worried her to think Voph might succumb to the age old trap despite his years. She was prepared, however, to wait as long as it took to correct his course. No matter if it would be days or months or years, it was the Nightmother's duty to ensure balance in all those within her influence. Fortunately, it did not seem to require so much time. Voph would not be 'strong' and yet brittle, ready to shatter at a moment's notice perhaps in his final confrontation with Sovryn.

Vytal waited as Voph lashed out, howled, and stropped trying to hold everything in. Too much emotion in too small of a bottle. "He would appreciate being remembered," she replied to Voph's vocalized plans. "But do not make haste in these matters. It will take time for the Mandragora to search our vault for anything related. There is time." Perhaps it was unlikely even in their extensive collection they would have something, or find it in short order. Truthfully, it didn't matter. It was an excuse for Voph not to feel as though he needed to settle his affairs as quickly as possible. What were a few extra hours or even days in the grand scheme of things? Could Sovryn move so quickly? Yes, but the mental battlefield was as crucial as the physical. Voph needed to be prepared to see the war won, and not throw himself into the frenzy.

As the man moved forth to collect the body of his son, the Nightmother kept her distance as she slowly followed. Only when he rose again and reflected on an answer to a question did she draw along side him for that moment. As Voph strode forth, he answered true. Vytal didn't reply. He did not need acknowledgment, but he needed resolve. It was good there was conviction to his voice. He would need it in the days to come.

Tag: Kyyrk​