First Reply The Lost Prince

[The Scion]

The arid landscape of Iridonia was as savage as ever. Blistering heat, the scent of the acidic rain on the horizon. Without proper protection, this world could and would devour wanderer's whole. It was freeing here. No expectation, no beliefs. Just the wild and instinct ruling over all. The need to survive. The young Zabrak stood in the field, dressed in loose cloth. Sightless eyes stared up at the thundering sky. He couldn't hear the storm coming, but he could feel it. The air changing temperature, the rush of wind, the acidic scent. By all accounts, he knew he should be heading back to the estate. His caretakers would be stressed as can be if he remained out too long. They assumed him frail, considering his disabilities.

Even the visor he was given was done because they assumed he couldn't function. His hand tightened around the machinery. It let him 'hear' so he wasn't completely in darkness, but it was uncomfortable. Needless. The black that was his world, with no light or sound, was as liberating as Iridonia's wilds. He didn't need to learn, he didn't need to listen or care. He just needed to survive. They could panic more about where he was for a little while longer. Right now, he just wanted to run free.

 

[Nyaeli]

Location: Iridonia
Attani Implant: Link!
Tag: The Scion

Nyaeli, standing at the edge of Iridonia's storm, allowed her mind to weave through the chaotic winds of the Force, seeking out the Zabrak. His frustration, his desire to break free from the chains that bound him to a life of pity and limitations — she could feel it pulsing in his mind, begging to be unleashed.

She saw an opportunity.

"You long for true freedom." her voice slithered into his thoughts, seductive yet haunting — amplified by her corrupted Attani implant "The eyes and ears they insist you rely on are shackles. They call you frail, and that is their first mistake. You do not need their tools. You do not need to see or hear to feel the power that is waiting for you."

A power those pitiful Zabraks could never hope to fathom.

The storm within the young Zabrak's soul mirrored the one swirling around them, and Nyaeli's smile darkened as she felt the pulse of his raw potential. She had survived worse storms — the collapse of the Brotherhood of the Maw, the failure of the Dark Empire's leaders who clung to the same broken methods that had failed before. She knew what it meant to rise from the ashes, and she was ready to build something stronger. This Zabrak could be part of that.

"Embrace the power of your mind and body. Of the Force, and you will be free." Her voice grew darker, more intense, as her mental grip tightened, fueling his internal rage and desires. The wind howled as her voice deepened its hold over him, filling his mind with possibilities of strength, freedom, and dominion.

Finally, the Aruzan appeared before him, her corrupted eyes focused and full of malice.

"I liberated myself from my people and I can help you do the same."

 

[The Scion]

A voice.

The boy paused as he let his senses drift out. The dark world he enjoyed in solitude had been invaded, but by who? .. Ah. She appeared as she wanted to, to see the blind boy looking at nothing, and yet, very clearly focused on her. She was an outsider, that much was clear. She smelled nothing of this arid world, of the Iridonian's who served him.

His hands moved. Practiced, robotic motions he felt from the others as they tried so desperately in his youngest years to communicate. He understood what they meant now, what they were trying to do. Speak with their hands. Not many knew how, but, he didn't mind. People didn't matter to him, one way or another.

The desire to protect their fragile heir to the empty throne for their own selfish plots is something I've dealt with for a long time. How do you suggest I free myself, outsider?

Nyaeli

 

[Nyaeli]

Location: Iridonia
Attani Implant: Link!
Tag: The Scion

Nyaeli's corrupted eyes gleamed with dark satisfaction as she felt the boy's focus settle on her, even though he couldn't truly see her. Her voice slithered through his mind once more, insidious and filled with malice. "You free yourself by exposing their weakness," she whispered, the words crawling into his thoughts like venom.

"They've shown it by not recognizing your strengths. By ridiculing you."

Her presence pressed deeper into his mind, coaxing the anger and frustration he felt toward those who pitied him. "Do they deserve to live? These people who have bound you with their expectations and their tools... Let them see what real strength looks like."

She took a slow, deliberate step closer, her voice growing more intense, more seductive. "I freed myself by destroying those who sought to control or expel me. Do the same. Embrace your strength and take the life that is rightfully yours." Nyaeli turned to where she felt the presence of his people and closed her eyes. Her attani implant, connected to her mind via the Dark, reached out and formed a bridge to the minds of those left behind.

"I can feel them. Unaware. Oblivious," Nyaeli told him with a wicked grin before she unclipped the hilt of her lightsaber and extended it to him, "Take this blade and liberate yourself."

 

[The Scion]

I am not bound.

The boy tilted his head as he listened, brow furrowed in thought. Some thought, at least. Thinking, listening, conversation, it was all needless to the survival he craved to enjoy. The simplicity of beasts, as it were. But he listened none the less. His attention drifted from her, back in the direction of the estate he lived in. Luxury. A life of anything he could want, so long as he took the throne when the time came.

A boring, humdrum life.

He took the offered blade. It was foreign in his hand, yet radiating power untold. The Dark he lived in didn't give him much to go off of with a lightsaber, and yet, he knew what it was. Not by name, or even by feel. Instinct. The red blade flashed to life, and though he saw none of it, he could feel it. The heat, the power.

I am bored, though.

Nyaeli

 

[Nyaeli]

Location: Iridonia
Attani Implant: Link!
Tag: The Scion

Nyaeli's gaze burned with twisted satisfaction as the boy ignited the red blade. The hum of the weapon in his hand seemed to vibrate through the Force, resonating with his unspoken desires. She stepped even closer, her voice a dark whisper, both taunting and commanding.

"Then prove it," she urged, her tone dripping with malice. "If you're not bound, if you are truly free, take that blade and liberate yourself from the chains they've tried to wrap around you. Show them the power that flows through your veins. Show them you are not what they expect you to be, but far more."

Nyaeli's corrupted presence pressed deeper into his mind, stirring the fire of rage that simmered beneath the surface. Her words pulsed like a drumbeat, steady and insistent, pushing him further toward the edge of no return.

"Boredom is for those who are content to be controlled," she continued, her lips curling into a wicked grin. "For those who do not take the initiative to write their own destiny. Take what's yours. Spill their blood and claim your throne. Then you'll understand what true power feels like."

Nyaeli stepped back, watching with a predatory gaze, her fingers twitching with anticipation as she awaited his decision. She had planted the seeds, and now all that remained was for him to let them take root — to see whether he would claim the power she offered or fall back into the cage his people had built for him.

 

[The Scion]

The blade turned, pointed now instead at Nyelia. At her chest, her heart. Not with an intent to strike, but pointed at her regardless. She was putting so many words in his head, for what, his own betterment? Killing for her amusement, perhaps? I've nothing to prove to you, offworlder. You give weapons, speak poisons and treachery. Boredom aside, I've no reason to kill them yet. Let them play their long term politics. I only care to enjoy myself.

He let the blade extinguish before he held the hilt in her direction. Killing them could happen, eventually. If they made his life difficult. But he didn't care much for needless slaughter. Killing to survive, that he would do. This wasn't survival.

Nyaeli