Private The New Cycle

[Keilara Kala'myr]

Ziare Dyarron | Keilara Kala'myr | Mercy | Freedom | Anonymous
COMPNOR (ISB) Junior Agent | Nite agent | Marauder and Agent of the Maw, Mongrel's advisor and shadow​

Objective: Recover and Survive
Location: Infirmary, Mongrel's former flagship, en route home.
Equipment: N/A || OPBC-01m
Tags: Thomas Barran

[ Come back… ]
"Galactic Basic" | ~ Telepathic communication ~ | << comm. channel >>
​

After the Bloodhound arrived on the ship, a Heathen Priest called him aside and said that he wanted to talk to him face to face. And it does not tolerate procrastination. If Thomas had gone with him, the man hadn't even delayed it for a long time, but had gotten to the point almost immediately. The Mongrel was dead, the Scar Hounds Tribe's legendary and invincible warlord was killed on Tython, and he's already with the Avatars in Galaxy to come. There was no greater lie in the galaxy at this moment than this, but the Priest did not know it.

If Barran wanted more information, the man was a little confused.

"Unfortunately, we do not know who he fought against or what happened. Mercy was there with him, but she was not talking about anything." he went silent here.

With his hand, he invited the future warlord to follow. They headed for the infirmary.

"The advisor, Mercy, was brought up in critical condition. She lay beside the warlord's body, frozen in blood. We followed the standard protocol that The Mongrel gave years ago. We called Final Dawn doctors to Mercy and they treated her. It is now up to you to decide whether to override this protocol or not."

The first reference to the Bloodhound as the new warlord.

"According to medical records, he suffered at least three strokes, her condition is critical and life-threatening. I don't know what happened down there, but she's pregnant. This was not included in the medical data two days ago." he explained; well, yes, Eina's gift skipped the first seven or ten days which was used to in nature. "There are no runes on her, the warlord forbade all of the Heathen Priests that Mercy would be part of the ritual."

They finally arrived at the infirmary, which had a huge glass wall outside. From here you could see that Mercy was just lying with her back to the hallway, and on the hospital bed, it was the huge sword that Thomas had made for Mongrel and handed him over to the Empress Teta. She held her hand on the grip, but only on it, not holding the grip in her palm. The priest was apparently even more embarrassed, perhaps afraid. Oddly, there was no one in the room, but there were two Scav Kings guarding the entrance.

"You need to know something else, Bloodhound. When we brought her aboard, she regained consciousness. They tried to separate her from the remnants of the warlord… She killed at least five-dozen marauders with thoughts, their minds almost exploded, another three-dozen fainted in agony, said they heard Mercy's scream in their heads, and another two-dozen suffered from severe migraines. She passed out after that. It took at least half an hour for someone to find the courage and go close to her and bring her here… I don't know what she would have been able to do if he wasn't in a critical condition." his voice was confused.

There seemed to be a good reason to rumour that Mercy was The Mongrel's best agent and perhaps his best fighter…

"Do you want us to notify the Taskmaster of the incident?" he asked the Bloodhound.

 

[Thomas Barran]

1ST POST

THE NEW CYCLE

THE AFTERMATH OF TYTHON

Thomas Barran
"The Bloodhound"

TRIBAL-WARLORD OF RHIGAR & MAR'ZAMBUL
LEADER OF THE SCAR HOUNDS

Tags: @ Keilara Kala'myr

another change, will use valravn for 5th post

SHRIVEN NO MORE: THE PAINS OF REVELATION - PART 1

INFIRMARY, THE MONGREL'S FLASGSHIP,
EN ROUTE TO MAR'ZAMBUL, (EARLY-WINTER OF 876 ABY)

Dead? I don't..... But that would mean- no!​

'Unfortunately, we do not know who he fought against or what happened. Mercy was there with him, but she was not talking about anything.'

The priest's news had hit him much harder than he would've thought, especially after all that had been learned of the Mongrel's mentorship, and though his disdain for time kept his mind from considering death with worry, it hit the Bloodhound harder than it hit most of the new faces among them. Though in taking solace in the veterans' plight, the revelation would bring his heart's will to be strong to it's knees, and like the Matriarch of the Tribe, the loss of the Mongrel would make life seem empty until the will to fight returned.

'The advisor, Mercy, was brought up in critical condition. She lay beside the warlord's body, frozen in blood. We followed the standard protocol that The Mongrel gave years ago. We called Final Dawn doctors to Mercy and they treated her. It is now up to you to decide whether to override this protocol or not.'

'Warlord's protocol, I will respect my mentor's wishes.', Thomas replied coldly, raising an eyebrow in suspicion, almost as if he was expecting worse but brooking no argument on the matter. By order of the Anointed Acolyte, and without so much as an official word on the matter, it would be finalised in the hopes the last thing left of his Warlord would survive; even if they had never truly seen eye-to-eye on matters of loyalty and devotion to the cause, even if her disdain for him had been known since the start, Barran would not let the Mongrel's most-trusted advisor pass into the Nether so easily.

'According to medical records, she suffered at least three strokes, her condition is critical and life-threatening. I don't know what happened down there, but she's pregnant. This was not included in the medical data two days ago.'

Finding himself gladdened by the fact Mercy was there with the Mawsworn legend in his final moments, thinking of the fact the Mongrel had fought like a warrior to the death would lessen the bite of the grief somewhat, understanding that his Tribal Warlord had gone out with strength left to exert. No torturous, slow death would await the Mawsworn legend in his last moments, but the more the priest continued to reveal, the more danger he realised the situation was. Final Dawn doctors were aboard, (a detail that irritated him somewhat) keeping Mercy as stable as they could, but not only for the woman's sake, but also for the sake of her unborn child. However, the pregnancy alone wasn't clue enough of her romantic involvement with their Warlord, and yet more revelations would follow, opening Barran's mind to the truth with every new part of the report itself.

'There are no runes on her, the warlord forbade all of the Heathen Priests that Mercy would be part of the ritual.'

Disregarding. The ritual's quota was met.

The Dark Three had their fill an' then some.​

'Hm, inconsequential.'

A lie. But a particular lie of which the Bloodhound didn't know he was speaking yet.

All the puzzle-pieces were beginning to click together, but it seemed that the one-eyed Woad still refused to acknowledge it by then, as this was easier to explain away than it was with the pregnancy, and just a little easier to explain away than it was for the Mongrel's passing, but Thomas was still lying to himself. The advisor was committed enough to the Maw that her violence and devotion to the Scar Hounds had been known to all before Barran ever made it above ground on Durace.

'You need to know something else, Bloodhound. When we brought her aboard, she regained consciousness. They tried to separate her from the remnants of the warlord… She killed at least five-dozen marauders with thoughts, their minds almost exploded, another three-dozen fainted in agony, said they heard Mercy's scream in their heads, and another two-dozen suffered from severe migraines. She passed out after that. It took at least half an hour for someone to find the courage and go close to her and bring her here… I don't know what she would have been able to do if he wasn't in a critical condition.'

With eyelids closing to the situation, the final nail in the coffin of denial was hammered in with lasting finality, they were in love. And not just any random unconditional affection either, this was serious, and had been going on for quite some time, perhaps even longer than he had been alive as the Shriven One before that fated day. Even in her act of preservation, protecting the armour of the Tribe's great Warlord and pioneering originator alike, the fierceness of Mercy's defensive acts of loyalty were telling an entirely new story between the lines. And yet, Barran couldn't bring himself to resent Kala'myr for it, but instead he felt gratitude; as in that particular moment, the grieving Bloodhound felt that none but the Mongrel were deserving of such love, especially after all their revered Warlord had achieved as a warfighter and commander alike. The closest thing they had to a real General, in every sense of the word, and though his potential had been snuffed out by a still-unnamed assailant, Thomas was glad that someone loved the legend in the last days, hours and minutes of his life.

'Do you want us to notify the Taskmaster of the incident?'

Without warning, the Bloodhound's hand snatched at the priest's throat, gripping tightly as he growled,'Not - your - place - to - say, understand?', to which a frightened nod of acquiescence was given in the hopes that Barran would relent and let go. Placing the priest's feet on the ground again before letting him go once and for all, Thomas leaned in to conclude,'Nor is it mine, but I'll do us both a favour. I'll convince the advisor to inform the Taskmaster of her own accord when she's ready, we have no other choice with this one.... I apologise for acting rashly, but our hands were tied long before the mess was made.', calming his voice, and eventually the look in his eye as he spoke. It was just enough that the priest knew he were no longer in any danger, and in receiving a nod affirming that safety, the priest felt assured enough to exhale a loud, heavy sigh of relief.

'In any case, thank you for letting me know.... You can leave now.'

 

[Keilara Kala'myr]

Ziare Dyarron | Keilara Kala'myr | Mercy | Freedom | Anonymous
COMPNOR (ISB) Junior Agent | Nite agent | Marauder and Agent of the Maw, Mongrel's advisor and shadow​

Objective: Recover and Survive
Location: Infirmary, Mongrel's former flagship, en route home.
Equipment: N/A || OPBC-01m
Tags: Thomas Barran

[ Out of Control… ]
"Galactic Basic" | ~ Telepathic communication ~ | << comm. channel >>
​

"As you wish!" said the priest in the words of Thomas to keep Mongrel's earlier orders in force.

To tell the truth, Mercy and Mongrel were always very careful to never show any sign in front of anyone that there was more between them than the military commander and subordinate, or the servant-master relationship. So probably no one remembered everything Thomas had in mind now. So maybe Mercy didn't really hate him, she just saw him as a source of danger from which she had to protect the warlord. In fact, there were countless rumours that after Dromund Kaas, but especially after the mission of Durace, the warlord's challengers and possible challengers died in far greater numbers and faster than before.

Only The Mongrel knew that Mercy was killing them and taking care of him from the shadows, always. Meanwhile, at that time, the woman also gained a higher rank within the clan by killing several in public. All of them were cyborgs, stronger fighters than her. She had never openly gone so high in rank to reveal that she might have anything to do with Mongrel, and the man hadn't appointed her either. She was the best agent; the warlord's most trusted advisor and she was Mongrel's Shadow. Who he always kept close to himself and they almost always fought side by side. And already Thomas knew why Mercy had always treated him with hostility, and why she ordered him on the Empress Teta to protect the warlord while the woman was doing a mission elsewhere and not fighting on the warlord's side.

In fact, when it began, The Mongrel no longer had a physical body; no one suspected. Of course, it was also easier to hide that almost no one knew that Mercy was telepath. Or that The Mongrel regarded cybernation as a divine perfection, and he considered the flesh and blood to be imperfection. At least long ago, that was true when they first met at Carlac. Of course, not many people had time to stop combining everything at once, as Thomas did. And it probably took a certain degree of intelligence to see the truth between the lines.

Thomas then caught the throat of the Heathen Priest, whose eyes under his skull mask sparkled with dread. He was probably not a warrior, which is why he became a priest. He grabbed the Bloodhound's arm with his hands to try to pull the arms out of his throat. But he was finally free, and after Thomas allowed him to leave, even though he was no longer in danger, he almost fled from near the new Warlord. Of course, he tried to preserve his dignity, which was difficult in this situation.

As the priest left, the two Scav Kings moved slightly to the side so that Thomas could go to the door. The two fighters, by the way, were just looking ahead, not even looking at the scene that happened between the Bloodhound and the Heathen Priest. They held themselves perfectly to their role and task.

And if Thomas wanted to go into the infirmary, which, judging by its equipment and modern exterior, it could be a personal room, the door opened as he walked over. The road was free.

 

[Thomas Barran]

2ND POST

THE NEW CYCLE

THE AFTERMATH OF TYTHON

Thomas Barran
"The Bloodhound"

TRIBAL-WARLORD OF THE SCAR HOUNDS
WARDEN OF RHIGAR & MAR'ZAMBUL

Tags: Keilara Kala'myr

SHRIVEN NO MORE: THE PAINS OF REVELATION - PART 2

INFIRMARY, THE MONGREL'S FLASGSHIP,
EN ROUTE TO MAR'ZAMBUL, (EARLY-WINTER OF 876 ABY)

I have no time to grieve.

But this woman seems to do so against her will,
almost like she was consumed by it.​

This was new territory to the new Warlord, but Barran knew he needed to step over the threshold, made somewhat easier in seeing that Kala'myr still appeared to be unconscious, though the one-eyed Woad knew he needed to understand what was really going on - regardless of the revelations of love and intimacy alike.

I need to know who slew our Warlord, she owes me that much.

But I reserve my barbarism for those who deserve it,
so I must be patient with this one.​

Pacing slowly, almost cat-like beyond the line between the main ward and the private intensive-care room beyond, the Bloodhound chose to sit in the chair next to the bed until the advisor was ready to talk, a courtesy for all she had achieved in keeping the Mongrel alive and in the fight for so long. He would never presume to know what she was going through, but seeing her in such a vulnerable state helped the one-eyed Woad at least understand what it cost to keep up with the madness of it all, a fate as such that none would ever want for someone so dear to one's heart, a fate that was doubtlessly expected to be quite the trial for Thomas in the following years. The new Warlord would never feel anything of the Mongrel's love towards his beloved advisor, and to contrastingly uninterested extremes, but knowing that his mentor was given strength in his love for Mercy, Barran couldn't help but feel sorrow in seeing that same secret pillar of strength reduced little more than the ICU-bed she lay on.

The Shamans, priests and doctors had been cold and calculating in their study of the Omen of Durace, giving Barran a special sort of loathing for infirmaries and operating-theatres in particular, and in remembering the migraines and the pain of resetting the bones in his hands after resurrection, (along with the late stitch-removals on his face and on his legs) the sight of one he feared as much as respected began to bring on the rage of common empathy. Gripping on the arms of his chair almost instinctively, Thomas relented enough to mutter,'You so easily forget the rumours about me, and yes - they're true. I fell head over heels for a Holy Avatar, an' I think you know which one.... Jus' know, you're safe among the Tri-Lunars.', in barely more than a whisper, even though the Final Dawn doctors had since moved on to patients in the main ward outside.

'More to our little clique than meets the eye, Mercy. Food for thought.'

No matter how long it was expected to take, the one-eyed Woad would sit back, fold his arms and lean the back of his head into the head-rest behind him as he patiently wait for an answer. Kicking his feet out and placing his boots on the chair's matching footstool, Barran exhaled all the stresses of the day as if all his demons were being drawn out from within, unintentionally letting the true magnitude of his own part in the battle show. The advisor would be able to hear it, detecting the slight shudder at the midway point that would have certainly revealed some of the loss he felt, but in his attempt to control it, the Bloodhound would feel the fatigue finally hit him as well. No adrenal, pineal or existential rushes of aggression remaining, and if there were, the chemical and faith-driven fuel he relied on would be much too low in reserve to keep the exhaustion at bay.

And before he knew it, the one-eyed Woad was asleep, quietly breathing through his nostrils with mouth shut as the bleeps and whirrs of the medical-supervision equipment continued around him, dead to the world until Mercy finally awoke. Barrans were always light sleepers, though the merit of this trait would surely be put to the test on this occasion. From cutting his right eye out to the uphill charge on Mt. Geran, to the trenchline battle and the duel with the Sith Pureblood, it was clear that not even extensive time on Mar'Zambul could prepare the Bloodhound for a turn of events as taxing as Tython had been. It was a miracle that Barran had even gotten as far as the infirmary, as many better men than Thomas would have fallen unconscious as far back as the flagship's airlock, a miracle his own body would take personally, putting him to sleep at the first opportunity.

 

[Keilara Kala'myr]

Ziare Dyarron | Keilara Kala'myr | Mercy | Freedom | Anonymous
COMPNOR (ISB) Junior Agent | Nite agent | Marauder and Agent of the Maw, Mongrel's advisor and shadow​

Objective: Recover and Survive
Location: Infirmary, Mongrel's former flagship, en route home.
Equipment: N/A || OPBC-01m
Tags: Thomas Barran

[ Out of Control… ]
"Galactic Basic" | ~ Telepathic communication ~ | << comm. channel >>
​

I don’t know how long, but I’ve been awake for a while. I know the doctors worked around me too, but I did tolerate it completely passively. My medical data on my retina was still red, that I was in a life-threatening condition, or that my condition was just critical, but it was already there that it was more stable too. And one more piece of data; what Kallan said down there, but then I didn't understand what he was thinking. I haven't felt the two flickering consciousness yet. Yes, now. The twins, Asher and Abigail. Did he know about them? I was hoping he knew it; he would have been so happy if he would know. He loved them so much, he loved being a father and grandfather so much.

In reality, I was just looking at the sword, or the wall, while my "tears" kept flowing out of my eyes as blood, and I didn't move. Inside, at home in my mind, I sobbed in Kallan's arms for hours, unstoppably. In the mind palace , there was such a great storm in the meadow that even our house… Keilara and his house shook. There was severe damage to the walls. Not in his house, but in the mind palace's unbreakable walls. Maybe, maybe one day I'll try to fix it, but I'm not interested right now.

I just wanted to die, I wanted to follow him, to be with him. Kallan's embrace was not like Asher's. I mean, it was enough for the part of me who was Keilara, but not for me who was Mercy. I still don’t know who I am, who I was. There were too many memories and feelings swirling inside me. But I knew the pain, I felt it. He no longer embraced me, neither in our minds nor in reality. I never cared that in reality he only embraced me with his metal arms, since that was him too.

But it wasn't what was most missing, it was him. His presence, his feelings, his behaviour, his character. His kindness, his words, his voice, our conversations, our common hobbies that we did together. All others were secondary…

In the last moments and in those sixty years, we were one, and I wanted to feel that feeling again, him…

I heard the door open and someone probably came in. I didn't turn around, I didn't have the strength, but I didn't feel like doing so. However, when I heard his voice.

BARRAN…!

My heart was pounding more with hatred and I was trying to move. I wanted to kill him, but my body didn't move. Not just because of the sedatives I got, but because of the strokes. I think one of the doctors said I have to practise and train a lot to be able to move normally again. I was hoping he would kill me while I tried. I had to fight the effects of sedatives with all my might to stay awake. I don't want to sleep now. I’ve been awake almost constantly since Noris to keep Asher and Kallan separate.

I didn’t want to sleep more at that price, not like that. I embraced Kallan more tightly in my mind as I buried my face in his chest and continued to sob. And in reality, I heard Barran fell asleep. I was still trying to move. Down there on the planet and now as well, I could feel what Asher and Kallan might have experienced when they were locked in their own minds, but they didn’t have a body that would have moved. It wasn’t worse than that, even though I was able to give back almost everything to him, but the lack of this…

He kept talking, but I didn't really understand his words, but I might just not care…

I squeezed my teeth and finally managed to move. It was hard and it hurt, but it worked. It’s stressful, like I had to go through the hardest fight and fight for hours. I turned around, it was hard; my movement now was like a bag of potatoes and not the usual graceful, elegant, deadly one. I had to fight for every little move. It was like the hardest fight of my life. I gasped frequently, my pulse rising as well. I also saw a MANIAC signal on my retina that I should lie back because this trying could have serious consequences.

~ SHUT UP! ~ I shouted at him in my thoughts.

I just hoped Kallan didn't think I was thinking about him. He’ll still have to get used to me arguing a lot with MANIAC in thought. Now he can do it too. He already had access to AI if he wanted to. After the turn, I watched Barran for a few moments as I gathered strength to do what I wanted to do. When I managed to gather enough strength, I threw myself at him. I was not sure how successful my endeavour was…

I tried to pull him to the ground, if it worked, I tried to press my hands to his throat from above so I could strangle him. I felt there was little strength in my hands, but I didn’t care. I tried. A flame of hatred and anger burned in my eyes. I looked at him like his father, in a way that only a woman knew from whom everything and everyone was taken away. There was no madness in my eyes, just the fact that they can’t take anything from me anymore, I can’t lose anything anymore. Because I have nothing.

"Your father killed my husband, why should I not kill you right now?!" I hissed with endless hatred as I tried to squeeze his throat even harder as Asher did with me on the Carlac. But he wanted me there alive, and I just wanted to kill Thomas Barran.

I didn’t care that I called Asher my husband, nor that I told her it was his father. What is the worst? They'll kill me? Asher ordered me at Durace that he should never know that he was the Stormchaser's son. But in the end, in the final days and hours Asher wasn’t interested in Maw, the Scar Hounds, or the war, and in the final moments he just wanted to get out of here with me. I told him I'll kill everyone and destroy everything that had anything to do with his death. To Barran's misfortune, he was the first one I met since my oath.

Because of my blood tears, my face was smeared with blood and drops of blood dripped from my chin to Barran as I tried to squeeze my hands around his throat even harder…

 

[Thomas Barran]

3RD POST

THE NEW CYCLE

THE AFTERMATH OF TYTHON

Thomas Barran
"The Bloodhound"

TRIBAL-WARLORD OF THE SCAR HOUNDS
WARDEN OF RHIGAR & MAR'ZAMBUL

Tags: Keilara Kala'myr

SHRIVEN NO MORE: THE PAINS OF REVELATION - PART 3

INFIRMARY, THE MONGREL'S FLASGSHIP,
EN ROUTE TO MAR'ZAMBUL, (EARLY-WINTER OF 876 ABY)

Nightmares, those of blood, giants, bones and anguish, haunting him for the time he spent in what may have been the harshest, most violent of environment in the Netherworld, one where his former comrades still waited. But in seeing who Thomas became in his second (and likely last) life, there was no doubt they would torture his soul for all eternity, for the Lost Brigade never forgot; never once leaving a dimension so dark and evil that letting just one slip through rifts in reality, like those the Bloodhound could only see at a distance on Durace and Tython alike, would make for quite the troubling experience for Barran in particular. Such spectral remnants of the heroes from before, as the glorious dead of the Third Imperial Civil War would be given form and strength in their growing hatred, would be given form and strength in the Woad's dreams also, dreams in perpetual fear.

But this time, the threat of suffering and death wouldn't rest within his nightmares this time, as the real threat, the real nightmare, would have tortures of her own to inflict. Toppled from the chair he was sleeping on, Mercy had gotten her hands around his throat and was strangling Thomas as he was opening his eyes to the blood-tears and the wild look in her eyes, raising an eyebrow as if to demand explanation as he hands gripped tighter.

'Your father killed my husband, why should I not kill you right now?!'

Without any means to warn Mercy his migraines were going a shade of nuclear again, there was no way to tell her that a bloody torrent was on the verge of flowing from his nostrils and onto her hands, giving her a moment to let go (recoiling in disgust) so he could respond,'NAME - MY - FATHER!!!! NAME HIM NOW-', before the hands of the Mongrel's wife gripped around his throat once more. Now his eye was open, and though it was occasionally rolling due to the agonies of an unwelcome recall, the Bloodhound's wrathful gaze would snap back to Mercy every time he could obtain enough focus to defy her without resisting.

I'm ready.​

 

[Keilara Kala'myr]

Ziare Dyarron | Keilara Kala'myr | Mercy | Freedom | Anonymous
COMPNOR (ISB) Junior Agent | Nite agent | Marauder and Agent of the Maw, Mongrel's advisor and shadow​

Objective: Recover and Survive
Location: Infirmary, Mongrel's former flagship, en route home.
Equipment: N/A || OPBC-01m
Tags: Thomas Barran

[ Out of Control… ]
"Galactic Basic" | ~ Telepathic communication ~ | << comm. channel >>
​

Killing, especially with bare hands, is never a clean thing. I remembered strangling my brother with his bare hands and shedding his guts in the process. Slow, painful death, but he deserved it. The greatest cruelty that Ziare ever did. So that’s why I didn’t pull my hands aside as I squeezed Barran’s throat. However, my own and his blood that flowed to and under my hand was too much. My hands, which clenched his neck, slipped away from the blood, so he could breathe and speak. I don’t know how long I will have the strength to squeeze my neck. Unfortunately, I was weak enough to just break his neck.

I felt his pain… I groaned. I knew for a while that Ziare had a tendency to empathic forces. I already felt it on Tython after the others had melted back into me. As my skin touched his skin, I saw for a few moments what he had also seen. Hallucinations or memories. I do not know. I just wanted it to end, I wanted him dead…

He wanted to know his name. I would have liked to smile cruelly and I would have liked to tell him that I would never tell what he wanted to know. Just that, I will send him back to his precious Rebirth so he will never know who he was in his previous life or who his father is. If the Avatars are gracious, he might find out. Otherwise, he will have to wander unknowingly in the Netherworld until eternity, until his soul melts with the Force, if he is not strong enough to remain himself. And the Dark Three were never generous, but hungry.

But on the other hand, that might be the information that breaks him. Maybe if I tell you, that's why I'll be able to finish this.

"Erskine Barran… his name is Erskine Barran. And your name is Thomas Barran." I snarled in a voice full of hatred.

My hands slipped and trembled; I couldn't lose consciousness yet… I had yet to finish it…

 

[Thomas Barran]

4TH POST

THE NEW CYCLE

THE AFTERMATH OF TYTHON

Thomas Barran
"The Bloodhound"

TRIBAL-WARLORD OF THE SCAR HOUNDS
WARDEN OF RHIGAR & MAR'ZAMBUL

Tags: @ Keilara Kala'myr

SHRIVEN NO MORE: THE PAINS OF REVELATION - PART 4

INFIRMARY, THE MONGREL'S FLASGSHIP,
EN ROUTE TO MAR'ZAMBUL, (EARLY-WINTER OF 876 ABY)

I'm ready.
Or so the Bloodhound thought he would be.

Accepting his fate with no thought of how badly it would torture his soul to hear the former advisor's answer.

Tell me what you've been hiding from my ears, O killer's Mercy.
​

Such raw hatred he had seen in the eyes of others, but having only seen disdain and disgust in Mercy's eyes before this moment, the wide-eyed stare of murderous intent had somewhat surprised the one-eyed Woad in the process of waiting for his tormentor's response. It wasn't this that worried Barran however, it was the switch to a look of gleeful satisfaction as Kala'myr smiled in readiness to reveal all as the ultimate torture, such savagery the one-eyed Woad would never expect of one who had shown such subtlety with her ill-intent before, but whatever was fated to unfold as a result of the impending revelation - neither Thomas nor Mercy would know exactly how bad it would get.

'Erskine Barran… his name is Erskine Barran.'​

And before Thomas could do anything to stem the flow of painful memories of his first life, all the moments he shared with his father began to consume the very forefront of his mind, pushing all coherent thought aside as each recalled life-event lashed at his frontal lobe and retinae alike. Sweet were the memories, but they hurt all the more with every passing second, and making matters even worse for the Bloodhound was the fact the Mongrel's Wife had more yet to tell, no longer caring if his nose unleashed a sanguine torrent on her hands or not. Grunting, growling through the pain behind his eyelids, even in the eye that no longer existed, the love of An-Cridheachan's hills and the biting mountain winds would interweave with heartache at having been parted from such wonders for so long, grinning through the pain as bloody tears of his own met those of Mercy that continued to flow down from above.

'And your name is Thomas Barran.'​

But the reminder of who the Bloodhound had been before, despite how innocuous such a self discovery would be in the circumstances of other resurrected ones, would prove too much to bear, searing through the new Warlord's head from forehead to crown with a heat that induced kicking, screaming and flailing until it finally rendered him unconscious. Whether the pregnant mother had let go of his throat or not, despite the grip and despite her letting go, the agony had taken far too much of the Bloodhound's coherence, too much of his situational awareness for him to notice; and within the span of mere moments, the Woad's soul-chilling screams of anguished pain would give way to silence, then worse just moments later. First would be the rapid kicking of the feet on the floor, then the chattering of teeth, followed by the clenched jaw and bloody froth of what was becoming a violent convulsive fit, though fortunately for Barran - he would be lucky in his numbness to every last second of it.

The only thing fighting through all of it, showing as a rather horrifying testament to the power of his resilience alone, was a repeated growl,'He - killed - me.... He - s-sent me t-to die! He - killed - me.... He - sent - m-me to DIE!!!!', letting the phrase pass through clenched teeth as he let it become his solemn vow of vengeance. A mantra, and one that was somehow the only thing keeping him alive as the bleeding continued. However, his darling Rebirth was watching, observing in case prophecy had chosen to pull the wool over the eyes of the Beloved Voice, hoping she wasn't wrong about her Shriven One after all. Though unwilling to intrude, the urge to keep her chosen champion alive was also present, and in the process of trying to kick that instinct to the dirt, would buy time for the Bloodhound to prove the worth of his resilience. The ultimate test of tests, a means to truly prove the merit of his love to a god.

'He - killed - me.... He - s-sent me t-to die! He - killed - me.... He - sent - m-me to DIE!!!!'​

Testing the strength of faith and love in the eyes of a destroyer, putting the fate of the strangler in his hands as a result of Barran teetering at the edge of his own existence, for if Thomas could survive it, there was every chance Rebirth would allow them both to live. Perhaps even for long enough to prove the worth of faith against the tribe's ever-growing list of enemies, perhaps proving how deep natural zealotry could propel the Scar Hounds if given the appropriate nudges in the right direction, and if they could survive their agonies, the mortals would be locked in a gambit with the Avatar of Rebirth for the foreseeable future.

'He - killed - me.... He - s-sent me t-to die! He - killed - me.... He - sent - m-me to DIE!!!!'​

 

[Keilara Kala'myr]

Ziare Dyarron | Keilara Kala'myr | Mercy | Freedom | Anonymous
COMPNOR (ISB) Junior Agent | Nite agent | Marauder and Agent of the Maw, Mongrel's advisor and shadow​

Objective: Recover and Survive
Location: Infirmary, Mongrel's former flagship, en route home.
Equipment: N/A || OPBC-01m
Tags: Thomas Barran

[ Out of Control… ]
"Galactic Basic" | ~ Telepathic communication ~ | << comm. channel >>
​

I didn't count on one thing; I didn't think of one thing. And that was that I didn’t have mental and (astral) shields. I used to have these always. But Barran's blow shattered them. In recent years, shields have protected not only my mind but ours. Both of us' minds. With Asher injuries, my shields also shattered and did not protect my mind either. And rebuilding this is not a moment, but a multi-hour task if I can focus on it. I did not expect such a reaction.

As he began to feel the pain and see the pictures, I also saw the mountain, I felt what he felt. I groaned, I wasn’t used to empathy, that is I also feel others feelings, a new ability, I am not just a telepath anymore, but an empath too. Damn it Ziare! The blood and tears didn't bother me, I had also to kill others in a dirtier way in my past. However, the pain was very strong. He reached his peak the moment Barran had a seizure. I let go of his throat as I screamed and fell to the ground beside him. I didn't have a seizure, but it still hurt.

Not just my own pain, the mental ones, but his physical pain as well. I was still able to sense that the door was open. Someone grabbed me roughly and pulled me away. I heard his words, but I remained completely uninterested, all I had to do was kill him. His father took from me the man I love, the father of my children, the life we lived in that reality, which one we should have had here too. Since Noris, I have felt no empathy for anyone except Kallan and Asher. That hasn't changed now. He left me completely uninterested, I didn't feel the slightest regret or empathy about the man lying on the ground.

I tried to climb over to finish what I started, but the Scav King caught me. In this state, because of the sedatives, he was much stronger, I was unable to move in his "embrace". I screamed again to let me go, but to no avail. He killed Thomas, he killed Asher. Why not me? Why did he leave me alive? It flashed into my mind when he closed my eyes. He thought he had killed me.

"I wish he had killed me too…" I muttered sobbing. "I wish he had finished."

Then I could be with Asher now, I could be with him. Then it wouldn't hurt so much. Nothing would hurt there anymore. I tried to break free again, but it was an even weaker attempt now. Meanwhile, the door reopened and the medical team came back. One of the doctors came to me, the Scav laid me back on the bed, and the other two began to deal with Barran lying on the floor and they even set up an extra bed in the infirmary.

The sedative and my injury won, again I couldn't move, I just lay on the bed and watched what they were doing to my husband's killer's son…

There was only one thought in my mind…

An eye for an eye…

 

[Thomas Barran]

5TH POST

THE NEW CYCLE

THE AFTERMATH OF TYTHON

Thomas Barran
"The Bloodhound"

TRIBAL-WARLORD OF THE SCAR HOUNDS
WARDEN OF RHIGAR & MAR'ZAMBUL

Tags: Keilara Kala'myr

SHRIVEN NO MORE: THE PAINS OF REVELATION - PART 5

INFIRMARY, THE MONGREL'S FLASGSHIP,
EN ROUTE TO MAR'ZAMBUL (EARLY-WINTER OF 876 ABY)

He - killed me.​

Pain, soul-deep pain that tugged on emotions like a puppeteer, and it was consuming the grieving Bloodhound in his stim-induced stupor. In every corner of his dream, the bittersweet memories of a life that once was, the sensation of the mountain and sea breezes on Galidraan III, reminders of a home he left behind almost thirty years before that fateful day on Tython. Rendering him a blubbering, emotional mess in dreams he never even wanted to begin with, for if ever Barran could have found a means to end these depressing, melancholic dreams of his, he would have leaped in head first to snatch it up for himself before anyone else could.

He - sent me to die.​

The Bloodhound only wanted the bloodying migraines, the full-body agonies, and the tears of existential anguish to stop, the Omen of Durace only wanted to stop seeing faces through a bloodied-red gaze, to end the soul-crushing weight of his own grief once and for all. Forever tied to the gruesome fate of,"Once Shriven, a Second time to Die.", and the horrible ever-after that awaited in the moments after his heart was eventually expected to stop, Thomas knew. Even in the latest batch of nightmares and memories alike, the Scar Hounds' new Warlord knew this for a fact, proverbially kicking the one-eyed Woad when he was down, adding insult to injury in what would easily be counted as the worst day of his second life so far.

He killed me.​

But the memories of how he died would have their time in the mind's limelight soon later, turning bittersweet memories into that of burning, ashen cinders from the tips of his fingers to the top of Barran's head, a nightmare to dwarf all those he had ever known by then. Then the smell of burning hair, ignited Repulsorlift fuel and melting flesh would remind the Bloodhound of all he had suffered in his last moments of the first life he lived, readily offering Barran flashbacks of the sort that would have traumatised the strongest of minds, especially in recalling his own sickening, desperate shrieks of agony, intermingling with those of his comrades who suffered the orbital bombardment with him. The Second Battle of Ziost had been tough on the Imperials, and with no perceived correct moves to make on the matter, Barran's father (unbeknownst to Thomas) would find himself just a split-second away from completing a suicide-attempt in a state of manic, remorseful grief - and all it took was one judgement call to set the Bloodhound's journey in motion.

He sent me to die.​

All it took was one comm-link message to the Lord-Protector, one comm-chatter suggestion to start the bloody spiral that would later join it's own momentum to that of the Eternal Cycle, one means of sealing their fates in deathly spirals of their own. Perhaps the second son could escape it, but if the firstborn remembered him, there was every chance Tommy's wee brother would be in just as much danger, but there was no way for Lord Michael to know - no way to understand his brother's horrid transformation for the curse that it was.

He killed me!​

Would Thomas understand his brother's choices? Would he understand what it took to accept Lord Erskine's decision that led to the death of his firstborn? Would the Omen of Durace be able to find it in himself to forgive it? Not even the wisest of old crones could know for sure, not even the most powerful of deities in the Galaxy could say for certain any more.

None could say for certain but his darling Rebirth.

HE SENT ME TO DIIIIIEEEEEE!!!!​

Dark was the path the Bloodhound had chosen for himself, letting his own radicalisation process decide a fate too dark for anyone to follow, and to such an extent that remembering more would only result in driving home that hatred deeper than ever before. Some cans of worms should never be opened, and in the case of Clan Barran, this looked to be truer than all other examples that held such unfortunate mantles before them. The new memories haunting him as part of his already horrifying night-terrors, sweet though some had been throughout the Bloodhound's anaesthetized haze, would only serve to make the family's complicated circumstances worse as time passed, especially in consideration of the nosebleeds and the migraines he would have been wise to expect more frequently after that day. And when he eventually woke up in a flow of translucent, reddish-pink tears, the Bloodhound would know his curse to have passed the point of no-return, fuelling a hatred of the likes Barran had never known before.

Waking up to see he was surrounded by machines and blood-transfusion tubing entangled with that of the IV drip feeding into the same arm, along with the heightened presence of guards outside the door, were of no help in the slightest to the Omen's mood, further breaking him down into the vulnerable state his mind was in at the time. It would take much and more to drag Thomas from this state of despair, much and more still to find the will to fight again, but Barran wasn't done yet, not for as long as his blood kept him fighting against all odds.

'He killed me, sent me to die.... Killed my mentor-'

Then, after he cautiously looked through the railing grill of his hospital bed, Thomas turned over on his side for much-needed head comfort, looking on Mercy's face with a disdain that killed all urges to strangle, torture and kill anyone in these moments, let alone his mentor's advisor. Though in being honest with himself, Barran just wished to be rid of Kala'myr, wishing very much to dump her hospital bed on Exegol so he could hide away on Rhigar, getting the peace and quiet in the snow he so desperately needed by then. Completely willing to leave the flagship on Mar'Zambul, the Bloodhound was almost all too happy to give up on his ambitions, but if he'd known what rivals awaited his misstep, such urges would be swept aside almost instantly. However, little did the Warlord know that the Heathen Priests, the Tri-Lunar Clique and the Scar Hounds at large would all find their means of bringing the savage back from the Forge, back to delve deeper into the darkness Thomas had come to love so fervently already.

'And you - find joy - in torturing me with it.... You're definitely going to Exegol now, an' I'm going to Rhigar. When we're done here, I want nothing more to do with you.'

Rolling back and once more so his back would be turned to the unwelcome voice in his head, Thomas would let his words sit with his mentor's advisor, having showed her more of his tears, disdain and grief than he would ever be comfortable with, having saw the futility in continuing in his own outbursts towards someone who didn't deserve such treatment - and certainly not for withholding information that would have otherwise put Asher's plans at risk at the moment of revelation.

But then something else happened, something that changed the Bloodhound's mood from one of grief to that of worry; but not for Thomas himself, not for his own safety and survival from an overpowered widow at the height of her own grief, and not for the safety of the tribe or the widow of the tribe's fallen Warlord either. Neither Barran himself nor Kala'myr could be considered causes for such worry, but in remembering the priest's comment on her pregnancy, the one-eyed Woad found himself instinctively rolling over to gaze on the sword that, in turn, was being used in instinct, protecting the skin, flesh and womb that protected the growth of her unborn child. His Darling Rebirth, silent and observant though she was, would find the strongest test to her will here; seeing prophecy reattaching in such a way, so profound it had every chance of making a goddess weep, but no mortal could ever divine the truth of whether the Third Avatar had wept or not.

But in what Barran said next, simple though his choice of wording was, would provide his darling with the toughest test of the celestial's emotional control, the toughest of them all.

'But if your child is endangered at any point, by anyone we either know or don't, I am willing to make armistice between us.... To what end that protection leads, depends entirely on the danger. Friend and foe alike.'

 

[Keilara Kala'myr]

Ziare Dyarron | Keilara Kala'myr | Mercy | Freedom | Anonymous
COMPNOR (ISB) Junior Agent | Nite agent | Marauder and Agent of the Maw, Mongrel's advisor and shadow​

Objective: Recover and Survive
Location: Infirmary, Mongrel's former flagship, en route home.
Equipment: N/A || OPBC-01m
Tags: Thomas Barran

[ Out of Control… ]
"Galactic Basic" | ~ Telepathic communication ~ | << comm. channel >>
​

I didn’t want to sleep, but the medications were stronger. I don’t know when I fell asleep, but I just didn't want to. Because that meant I couldn’t maintain the walls and Asher and Kallan heard each other and argued with each other. Most of the time I tried to time my sleep while Asher was asleep, but I still slept less and took care of it. Now, even in my dream, it occurred to me painfully that I no longer had to take care of anything. I don't have to protect him anymore because I'm alone. My friend, my confidant, my support, my lover, my husband is no longer with me. He was dead.

I shouldn’t have dreamed of anything because of the drugs, yet I kept dreaming about him, Asher, our joint pleasant memories, or even nightmares. Memories, some of our real life, some memories of a life that was real but only in our imagination. The alternative reality that was born of our dreams and desires. I wish we could have stayed there forever. I wish it had lasted forever, and I wish I had died with him.

Why didn't he kill me? Why did he just leave it there and why didn't he finish what he started?

The awakening was even worse and more painful than the dreams. At least, I was with him, there, in my dreams. Here, however, only loneliness and lack of his presence were received me. In defence of my mind, I still cuddled with Kallan to keep sobbing. In reality, my tears ran out, or if I could just cry, I was still tearing blood. In reality, I tried to restrain my sobs, I didn't want to show weakness.

After I woke up and turned in bed, I realised I wasn’t alone. Barran was here too. This time he was lying on a bed, at least in as bad a condition as I was. Is it from the seizure or from the fact that I wanted to kill him? I woke up sooner; I don't know how much earlier, but I soon heard his voice.

"At least he killed you! He just left me lying on the ground in the middle of a snowstorm. I just closed my eyes and left!" I wanted to shout, but I could only growl in a hoarse voice.

To cause joy? No. I didn't feel it for a moment. I knew I wouldn't have felt any relief either for this.

"Don't blame me! You wanted to know! There was probably a reason Asher didn’t want you to ever find out! And it didn't cause joy! It wouldn't have caused joy either, if I would have killed you for what your father did to my husband!" I said angrily, still snarling. "I hope you know, without me, you won't survive the first week... You're the new warlord, yes... but I know the tribe, not you."

I was the one who had been constantly taking care of him since Durace, killing from the shadows those who would have tried to challenge him to take his place. But those who just mentioned that they would try or just want to try, over time also died. It was a lot of work to get others to kill them, but with my constantly watching eyes I saw and knew the whole tribe and how it worked. I fought from the shadows, and took care of him, making him even stronger.

I sat up and cried while I hugged my legs, which I pulled up to myself.

"Children, not a child. Twins. A little boy and a girl, what he always longed for." after my words, more "tears" flowed down my face, it was blood again, not real tears. "Armistice? Do you think I hate you? I was just trying to protect him! And we can start this now. It can already cause my death to be noticed that I am pregnant. For most of the Maw, this is not a sin, but for us it is, for us it is a weakness. Why do you think we kept it a secret for so many long years that there is something between us? Why did he never give me a high and influential rank or position? That's how we protected each other…"

I turned my head to the side to look at him, I will probably see his back.

"I wish your father had killed me too. If you want to finish it, I won't resist. Even the sword you made is here for you to do!" I told him.

 

[Thomas Barran]

6TH POST

THE NEW CYCLE

THE AFTERMATH OF TYTHON

Thomas Barran
"The Bloodhound"

TRIBAL-WARLORD OF THE SCAR HOUNDS
WARDEN OF RHIGAR & MAR'ZAMBUL

Tags: Keilara Kala'myr

SHRIVEN NO MORE: THE PAINS OF REVELATION - PART 6

INFIRMARY, THE MONGREL'S FLASGSHIP,
EN ROUTE TO MAR'ZAMBUL (EARLY-WINTER OF 876 ABY)

'At least he killed you! He just left me lying on the ground in the middle of a snowstorm. I just closed my eyes and left!'​

He would be infuriated if he wasn't broken already, but it seemed to Thomas that Mercy was hellbent on testing that for herself, for the clear loathing she still expressed in her eyes, though in all of the emotion, Barran could see something of a truth beginning to form within her. A truth of how bad it was going to get for them, from Thomas to Mercy, to the unborn children both would need to protect with their lives going forward, though there would be much and more that Kala'myr would have trouble admitting on account of the hatred that kept her from seeing the true volatility of her mind, actions or circumstances for that matter.

He offers my mentor's wife more kindness in assumed death than most,
More Mercy than most,

More than he ever could have dared offer me in mine.... Brutal.​

But this was all to be discovered after the Woad and Serennian briefly parted ways, fated to occur in conversation with other elements who aligned with the Mongrel before he died, giving the Bloodhound plenty reason to believe that Mercy had more callousness to offer as she continued,'Don't blame me! You wanted to know! There was probably a reason Asher didn't want you to ever find out! And it didn't cause joy! It wouldn't have caused joy either, if I would have killed you for what your father did to my husband!', a response that left Barran with a lot to unpack from it. And with a lot to let go of, with equally soul-encumbering resistance to the idea weighing him down, it would again take much and more to acquiesce to such an outburst. After all, Thomas had felt he was owed the name of his mentor's killer, righteously afflicted enough that the Bloodhound was sure he deserved the name of one he'd name his nemesis henceforth, but in the heat of the moment - the mention of his father ruined the chance of clean revelation as soon as familial ties were mentioned.

Unleashing untold agonies for revealing who the Scar Hounds unearthed on Durace in the first place, something Barran was beginning to feel like he should've known from the offset.

'I hope you know, without me, you won't survive the first week... You're the new warlord, yes... but I know the tribe, not you.'

We'll see....

We'll see about that in good time, rest assured.​

Of this, however, there would be no dissuading the one-eyed Warlord, for he could not have been more sure in his mind that his cause was blessed by the Dark Three, and in turn, Thomas would be completely assured that his cause was blessed by the choices he would make after that day. In Barran's mind, the Gods had been sending him signs, and in the ears of Rook and Dreamer, the Three Moons had told him what his next steps were beyond the protective orbital sphere of Rhigar itself, reasons alone that tore every last vestige of self-doubt from his soul before the battle ended on Tython. But once again, the matter of Kala'myr's pregnancy would knock the Bloodhound for a loop, but this time, altogether more intensely than ever before - especially in seeing the real tears in the Matriarch's eyes as she sat up and hugged her legs in a display of emotion Barran had never seen before.

'Children, not a child. Twins. A little boy and a girl, what he always longed for.'

Twins? With enough wit and determination, I could've handled the assured protection of one.

But two? What's that going to take?​

With more blood flowing from her eyes soon after, Barran knew more anger was brewing from within the anguished mind of Kala'myr, bubbling to the surface as she continued,'Armistice? Do you think I hate you? I was just trying to protect him! And we can start this now. It can already cause my death to be noticed that I am pregnant. For most of the Maw, this is not a sin, but for us it is, for us it is a weakness. Why do you think we kept it a secret for so many long years that there is something between us? Why did he never give me a high and influential rank or position? That's how we protected each other…', heedless of the fact the Woad had abandoned his resentments almost completely by then. It was enough to know the armistice would be accepted if ratified there and then, enough to know that (for better or worse) accepting this offer had assured the otherwise-terrified Thomas that the once-unwelcome voice of his dreams would be looking out for him, though Barran was hoping it would be in some safely-indirect capacity or other.

'I wish your father had killed me too. If you want to finish it, I won't resist. Even the sword you made is here for you to do!'

And in order to have a better hope of seeing this safe-distance policy implemented someday, the one-eyed Woad need to put an end to this self-destructive behaviour once and for all.

'I refuse.... I - refuse - to - END - YOUR - LIFE!!!! UNDERSTAND?!?!'

Ripping IV-drips and heart-monitor patches and blood drips from his arms and his hands with frantic desperation, but it wouldn't take longer than a look into the wild gaze of Barran's eyes to know it wasn't in anger, but endeavoured in solemn, sympathetic earnest. Made all the more pitiful in his display as the tears of horror sent his protector's instincts into overdrive, giving way to erratic breathing and grunting as he fell down the side of his bed in an effort to climb out of it, and pathetic though the sight would've been for Mercy and any with nosiness enough to peer into their private ward-room, the one-eyed Woad no longer cared. The children had to survive, no matter what the arduous, painful journey would cost to achieve it with definitive success, and if his own sorry existence was to be eradicated by unseen assailants to see it done, the Bloodhound was all too happy to sacrifice himself for something more worthy than the Hâsk jiaasen ritual could ever hope to be.

'An' I refuse to execute you with my master's blade! You got that, Mercy?!'

Unable to stand properly, Barran laughed ruefully through the tears as he reduced himself to crawling on all fours, like the Bloodhound he really was all along, subservient to unborn masters before he had a hope of escaping this seemingly-endless run of unfortunate surprises. Then, almost a blubbering mess by the time he reached Mercy's bed, Thomas concluded,'High-fidelity, from what I'm beginning to remember, is sadly a family trait. Which means you're stuck with me as your protector now, and through the thick an' thin - I will protect you., laying his hand on the sword he forged with the intention of protecting the Mongrel, but realising it was ultimately forged to protect his children instead. Even with his consciousness hanging by a thread, even with his head leaning against bed's side-railing, eyes rolling into the back of his head sporadically with exhaustion, Mercy would know Barran was displaying something he had never had enough heart or morality to display before.

As much as this was about loyalty for the Bloodhound, there was something of great religious and spiritual significance in his most solemn of guardian's vows, and if all would work out in their attempt to sustain the Scar Hounds' warfighting prominence, Thomas was sure that his darling Rebirth would guide the Mongrel's children to lasting, universally-assured salvation from the Galaxy's many dangers. From within or without, Kala'myr and Barran knew they needed to be prepared, but whether their differences could be put aside with finality, all this and more would be left to the last say of the Serennian widow.

They're all I have left of him.

The advisor, his children, an' his sword.
Its all that was left to me.​

 

[Keilara Kala'myr]

Ziare Dyarron | Keilara Kala'myr | Mercy | Freedom | Anonymous
COMPNOR (ISB) Junior Agent | Nite agent | Marauder and Agent of the Maw, Mongrel's advisor and shadow​

Objective: Recover and Survive
Location: Infirmary, Mongrel's former flagship, en route home.
Equipment: N/A || OPBC-01m
Tags: Thomas Barran

[ Out of Control… ]
"Galactic Basic" | ~ Telepathic communication ~ | << comm. channel >>
​

Ironically, all three of us were NIO citizens because of whom I was in this situation. Me, Barran, and Iggy. I hated and was grateful to Ignatius Rausgeber at the same time, because if he hadn’t blown up that ship, I would never have kissed Asher’s brain container and said what I said. I was grateful because I was able to have had my happiest years next to the man I loved and who loved me. But I also hated him, because if he hadn’t done that, we would never have been lovers and married to Asher. His death would not have hurt me. My life would surely have been bleaker and poorer.

But no, I don't know. I said earlier that it was worth all the pain and suffering that I could be with him. That part is still true, but the rest? Without him? I didn’t even see the point in continuing or staying alive because of the kids. Why? They can't see their father. I'll not see Asher’s pride, his happiness, the way he'll look at them, the way he deals with them again. More blood tears flowed down my face, I thought I couldn’t cry anymore, just in thought, in my mind.

I could barely hear my own thoughts because Barran's thoughts were starting to intrude into my head, he was thinking too loudly. Like the guards out there and everyone else. I could not rule out the thoughts of others. However, I didn’t understand what Barran was thinking because everything was blurring. There were too many at once. I haven’t had such a problem since I realised I was a telepath; it was one of the first lessons and the first technique that I learned, to exclude these thoughts.

When he refused to kill me...

"Why? I failed; I couldn't save him! I broke, we broke all the rules… and even at this moment I show weakness." I asked and told him.

I was looking at him when he got to my bed. I heard him fall to the ground, but I didn’t watch him get here. He refused my request again. I looked at him with an expressionless face. Why? Then I heard his voice again, his thoughts. I pressed my hands to my temples and groaned in pain. Like I said, he wouldn't stay alive for a week. Great loyalty; it was in me too, I "inherited" it from Freedom. That’s why I stood on Asher’s side from the first moment and was loyal to him. Instead of the Maw.

"Think a little quieter! I can’t rule out people’s thoughts in this condition. And you're shouting, please stop overthinking everything!!" I groaned painfully.

And that only made the situation even more painful. In my own situation, I saw no way out. I didn't know how much I could trust him, but based on his thoughts and words, he will not live long.

"If you want to live, dig these thoughts very deep in your mind, hide them. If the Taskmaster or the Heathen Priests find out you are more loyal to my husband and his children than to the Maw, they will kill you and them as well." I warned him. "I even had to hide this from them, since the very first moment."

How and why should I entrust my, Kallan's and my children's life to someone who apparently even can't take care of themselves? And why did Asher change the rules when he nominated him as his successor? And last but not least, I didn't know how much I could trust this man at all…

I had to take care of the children and Kallan alone, it was my duty…

 

[Thomas Barran]

6TH POST

THE NEW CYCLE

THE AFTERMATH OF TYTHON

Thomas Barran
"The Bloodhound"

TRIBAL-WARLORD OF THE SCAR HOUNDS
WARDEN OF RHIGAR & MAR'ZAMBUL

Tags: Keilara Kala'myr

SHRIVEN NO MORE: THE PAINS OF REVELATION - PART 6

INFIRMARY, THE MONGREL'S FLASGSHIP,
EN ROUTE TO MAR'ZAMBUL (EARLY-WINTER OF 876 ABY)

'Why? I failed; I couldn't save him! I broke, we broke all the rules… and even at this moment I show weakness.'​

In realising the impossible odds had been stacked against Mercy's efforts from the beginning, Thomas couldn't help but wonder who his mentor's enemies were, having only known Asher long enough to see him use the greatsword against an Atrisian Jedi, and only finding out after the fact that his own father had been added to the shortlist of the Mongrel's enemies - driving the dread home in the estimation of how many adversaries would be drawing (both allied and opposed alike) on the Warlord's chosen successor by then.

'Think a little quieter! I can't rule out people's thoughts in this condition. And you're shouting, please stop overthinking everything!!'

Irritating though the fact was, the ability to read his mind was helping Kala'yr to explain the severity of their situation far more eloquently than Barran's own mind was by then, but thoughts once more drifted to memories of his father, remembering the songsteel wonder his father wielded on Generis and Ziost alike, and it pained him incessantly. But this would not stop the Bloodhound from blocking it out of his mind, for the successor needed to be at his best for more than his own sake and that of the Trilunar Clique, he needed to keep his master's widow, his children, and every last one of his secrets hidden from any and all who drew too close to the truth. If there was anyone who Thomas could count on to drive this reminder home with the dread of impactful effect, and in the moments when it would have mattered most, the right catalyst would no doubt have been Mercy, waiting in earnest as the one-eyed Woad struggled to focus his mind properly - still clearly in pain but still very much coherent through the strength of motherly instinct alone.

'If you want to live, dig these thoughts very deep in your mind, hide them. If the Taskmaster or the Heathen Priests find out you are more loyal to my husband and his children than to the Maw, they will kill you and them as well.'

If anyone could teach him how, it would be the Matriarch, but as for whether the Bloodhound had time enough to prepare for such threats, finally revealed as the most dangerous threats of all, (those he suspected were poised to strike from within the Brotherhood itself) Thomas couldn't do anything or buy himself time to do anything about it. Not that the one-eyed Woad could ever know to do anything about it then, as all he had ever known was the fight against the Galaxy, all he would ever know until the moment his life took such a wild turn was servitude to a mentor who he knew was among the rarest, most legendary teacher of them all. Each of these twists and turns were headaches unto their own, biting deep into every last reserve of willpower as the reality of the situation set in, and though his master and commander no doubt left the Bloodhound with the mother of all binding circumstances, it still did nothing to dissuade Barran in the most solemn of vows.

He was still loyal to the Maw, and to his tribe, as was taught with great emphases on the service and loyalty to the Dark Voice, but in already knowing that Darth Solipsis had also perished on Tython, the very concept of loyalty seemed to be a sham. Almost like everything he knew was unfolding as a lie, but one that no doubt no longer existed for as long as the Maw held to it's many disunities, leaving Thomas torn in his loyalties for the first time in his life, such that he never knew as an Imperial or in his time leading the Lost Brigade in the Nether, nor in his time learning under the tutelage of the Mongrel's chosen supervisors - more people dear to him who were expected to die at the hands of the Maw if he failed.

'I even had to hide this from them, since the very first moment.'

'New plan.', Barran finally responded, hearing enough to know the true gravity of his lifelong vow to keep both the Matriarch and the Mongrel's children safe, the real extremes he would need to go in order to succeed. The same sorts of extremes that brought blood to his nose in remembering the friends he lost in their attempts to keep Thomas,"The Successor", safe, dying for his choice to follow in his father's footsteps as a soldier, all sacrifices that would eat away at Barran's soul in his first life, carrying every last ounce of all that guilt and regret into his final moments as the orbital bombardment rained down on his platoon. Fortunately for the Bloodhound, he would be able to muster enough strength to conclude,'Your stay on Exegol will be short. But before you leave, you give my mentor - a proper eulo....', before his consciousness lapsed again.

But someone else was still paying attention, someone who had been watching them from the moment the Bloodhound first crossed the threshold.

A frightening sight it would have been, as there would have been no doubt that Barran was out cold by then, but the knees and legs were still pushing outwards to find purchase on the blood-slippery floor, giving the feet something to latch onto in the moments leading to the body's rise from lows of the Bloodhound's grovelling posture. Using the side-railing, the entity controlling the Bloodhound's body finally pulled his body upright, then turned his head to reveal the remaining left eye was blacker than the darkest of shadow, revealing none other than the presence of Rebirth.

'The other voice in his head, I presume?'

 

[Keilara Kala'myr]

Ziare Dyarron | Keilara Kala'myr | Mercy | Freedom | Anonymous
COMPNOR (ISB) Junior Agent | Nite agent | Marauder and Agent of the Maw, Mongrel's advisor and shadow​

Objective: Recover and Survive
Location: Infirmary, Mongrel's former flagship, en route home.
Equipment: N/A || OPBC-01m
Tags: Thomas Barran

[ Out of Control… ]
"Galactic Basic" | ~ Telepathic communication ~ | << comm. channel >>
​

"Thank you!" I grumbled.

The moment Barran’s thoughts were finally not screaming in my head, I heard my own thoughts. From that, I heard everyone else the same way, but they were farther away, a little quieter. Barran was here, next to me, so his loud thoughts seemed to I'm standing right next to the speaker at a concert. I hated this the most even when my abilities first showed up. To figure out and learn how to exclude the undesirable thoughts of others. I tried now, but I had no strength. My abilities are just as strong as before, but I couldn’t concentrate.

Rebuilding the shields requires several hours of continuous concentration; now, however, I could not concentrate or think about the same thing for two minutes. Unless, to the pain I felt, or to Asher. I waited for him to come in the door and see what was wrong with me. But right after that, I realised I wasn’t going to hear the reassuring metallic sound as he approached. I will no longer feel in my mind that he is there. I will have to rebuild the shield because of Kallan. They can't know he survived. They cannot hurt him again to create a new Mongrel. He can't suffer again.

"New plan?" I asked back as I looked at him again.

After his words, I think I looked at him a little surprised. Previously, he wanted me to be as far away from him as possible. Especially after I tried to kill him. Did he know that this is how our acquaintance with Asher began? That is, Ziare tried to kill him. Little Shadow-killer. I remembered he called me then, but never again. What has changed? Maybe he already realised that I was telling the truth that he can't survive without me? He was locked up, protected. He was never in the middle of events, he didn't know about how the life of the clan goes.

Proper eulo… more tears flowed down my face. I didn't even think about that. All this should be done by me. At least in a normal society, in a normal civilization. But the Scar Hounds Tribe was not like that, nor even the Maw. I nodded. I searched for the words for a few moments. In my heart, I would have told the reality, but it would have destroyed the legend, then everyone would have despised him. Much of the Galaxy did so anyway, but the tribe respected and feared him.

"Does the eulogy contain the reality, or preserve and exalt the legend?" I asked him.

After all, the two were as far apart as Exegol and Midwinter… Only Kallan and I really knew him. Only we knew the truth about it. I was the guardian of his secrets.

"Because if I'm telling the truth…, there's a good chance the Maw will try to erase even his existence from the pages of history." I told him.

No one knew him, only I… shivered for a moment, as if I had felt someone’s present for a moment, even in my own mind. But after that, it was gone, I was probably just imagining, MANIAC showed no sign of this happening. He only showed the critical values for my condition. It's still life-threatening and critical.

So, I looked at Barran questioning which one he wanted, the reality, or the "fairy tale" for the Maw, that is, the horror story...

 

[Thomas Barran]

7TH POST

THE NEW CYCLE

THE AFTERMATH OF TYTHON

Thomas Barran
"The Bloodhound"

TRIBAL-WARLORD OF THE SCAR HOUNDS
WARDEN OF RHIGAR & MAR'ZAMBUL

Tags: Keilara Kala'myr

SHRIVEN NO MORE: THE PAINS OF REVELATION - PART 7

INFIRMARY, THE MONGREL'S FLASGSHIP,
EN ROUTE TO MAR'ZAMBUL (EARLY-WINTER OF 876 ABY)

'The other voice in his head, I presume?'​

'Does the eulogy contain the reality, or preserve and exalt the legend?'

The agonising wife of the hero hadn't heard her speaking through Thomas, hadn't seen the otherwise incapacitated form standing by the bed, looking to the tears and the despair of one who had been put through far too much already, looking for signs of lucidity in the pain. And in looking to the face behind the pain, with tears flowing translucent pink with residual blood showing Rebirth all she needed to see, but the tribe's Matriarch still had more to say - more truths to reveal to a man who was both unconscious and temporarily trapped within the soul of an Avatar.

'Because if I'm telling the truth…, there's a good chance the Maw will try to erase even his existence from the pages of history.'

Ssssshhhh..... Hush, child.

I'm taking some of those agonies that beset you.​

'I know what he wants you to do, but first - I would rather we talked first.... Hold still.', the Avatar continued, ready to do her work, and though it might have seemed like an attempt to heal Mercy,"Taking some of the agonies.", would more accurately entail the stealing of the Matriarch's physical agonies. Scraping up whatever could be purged, both for sustenance and for the sake of the one she wished to speak with, Rebirth would take a few moments to punch through the emotion to reach the wincing, stinging pains that wracked Kala'myr's body from head to toe. A difficult task for one who had much and more on her own mind already, pushing through heartache and grief of the likes the Avatar had only feasted on, letting the burning heat of each memory singe and brand her mind for every thought her mind came into contact with on her way to the source of the surface-level pains of the mortal she was helping.

'There it is. Hold on, just a little longer - now I can partly snatch away this pain.... This will do.'

 

[Keilara Kala'myr]

Ziare Dyarron | Keilara Kala'myr | Mercy | Freedom | Anonymous
COMPNOR (ISB) Junior Agent | Nite agent | Marauder and Agent of the Maw, Mongrel's advisor and shadow​

Objective: Recover and Survive
Location: Infirmary, Mongrel's former flagship, en route home.
Equipment: N/A || OPBC-01m
Tags: Thomas Barran

[ Out of Control… ]
"Galactic Basic" | ~ Telepathic communication ~ | << comm. channel >>
​

For a few moments, a sufficiently calm silence was received. I mean, if I don’t count the dozens of different voices, I’ve heard that way. Luckily, they fused together enough, so I didn’t hear anything particularly loud. It was more like the roar of the crowd, or the crowd sound which one everyone can easily rule out. But it’s definitely not like when I felt Asher’s presence. True, Kallan is here now, but it was very different now than when I felt him and Asher through our connected minds. It was only a few hours or a day but he was unspeakably missing.

The next moment I heard him think loudly, like he was shouting in his head again…

"Bar-?" I would have started saying this grumbling, but my voice stalled.

I definitely felt the thoughts come from him, but it was a female voice from his mind. I looked at him in surprise. I didn’t feel like he had several personalities before, though I didn’t really try to reach or "climb" into his head. My skills only started to develop when we first met. Afterwards, I got stronger and we didn’t meet either. To this day, we only spoke on the Empress Teta once when I instructed him to protect Asher because I wasn’t there to do it.

"Who are you?" I asked him/her.

I knew there might be a different gender personality, but the fact that he had more was a little surprising. Ironic. If I hadn’t been in such a bad condition, I’d have been laughing mockingly, sarcastically. However, when he wanted to reach me, I snarled at him like a trapped beast and backed up to the wall on the medical bed. Unfortunately, I couldn’t go so far as he shouldn't touch me.

My pain was mostly caused by the multiple strokes and of course the bruises I got when I collapsed after my first stroke. When Barran…

As he touched me, I felt my headache ease a bit. Even so, I still looked at him with distrust. It was weird that when he spoke, I heard Barran’s voice, but in his thoughts, that personality was definitely a woman.

"What do you want from me?" I snarled at her/him.

 

[Thomas Barran]

8TH POST

THE NEW CYCLE

THE AFTERMATH OF TYTHON

Thomas Barran
"The Bloodhound"

TRIBAL-WARLORD OF THE SCAR HOUNDS
WARDEN OF RHIGAR & MAR'ZAMBUL

Tags: Keilara Kala'myr

SHRIVEN NO MORE: THE PAINS OF REVELATION - PART 8

INFIRMARY, THE MONGREL'S FLASGSHIP,
EN ROUTE TO MAR'ZAMBUL (EARLY-WINTER OF 876 ABY)

'Bar-?'​

Still somewhat sluggish in these moments, it would take a little while for the full realisation to set in, but when those previously despairing eyes expressed fearful fury, Rebirth knew the mortal would understand the Omen of Durace wasn't there at that point in time; or at least, his mind and conscious-sentience weren't there, hearing and feeling the aura of one who was completely different to the tribe's new Warlord. The mortal's eyes would make contact with the gaze of the Avatar as if by knee-jerk reflex alone, turning towards the figure standing beside the bed and asking,'Who are you?', with pupils shrinking nearly to pinpoint extremes as Mercy's survival instincts came alive in sight of the Bloodhound's darling.

Before the Third Avatar could answer properly, she saw more pain that could be purged, and in answering to her own instincts, ignored the mortal and her own train of thought alike. Pursuing her natural urges, Rebirth would then steal more pain from Mercy in the process of remaining quiet, giving the tribe's Matriarch enough time and alleviation of her aches to continue,'What do you want from me?', snarling as the last morsel of exposed agony was still being consumed. And when she was done, Rebirth would finally let go, standing to the Bloodhound's natural straight posture at his full height and walking to the window, letting Mercy's fears lessen a little as the very form of Tython's bright star-system shrunk to obscurity in the distance.

'Almost.... And in answer to your questions, firstly - your mortal caste refer to me as the Avatar of Rebirth.'

Not even bothering to turn around to gauge the mortal's reaction, the Avatar sighed in loss for what could have been on Tython, not quite able to let it go just yet, much like she was with the power she had only just lost hours before. Everyone in every realm of the Cycle's perpetuation, from the mortal lows to the celestial highs, all were pained by the defeat in some fashion or other, and Mercy would be able to see this in Rebirth's slow shaking of Barran's head in the forlorn spirit of defeated dejectedness. But the Avatar would eventually turn around, adopting a calmer demeanour as she drawled,'And secondly - what I want is for you to wipe that snarl away for starters.', just slightly winding the Bloodhound's neck with a mildly disdainful attitude, though the attitude itself would disappear almost as quickly as it appeared.

'I just want a normal conversation for once.... And to help a little, nothing life-changing or anything of that sort - just enough to get proverbial ants out of a nasty death-spiral. Think you can manage that, mortal?'

 

[Keilara Kala'myr]

Ziare Dyarron | Keilara Kala'myr | Mercy | Freedom | Anonymous
COMPNOR (ISB) Junior Agent | Nite agent | Marauder and Agent of the Maw, Mongrel's advisor and shadow​

Objective: Recover and Survive
Location: Infirmary, Mongrel's former flagship, en route home.
Equipment: N/A || OPBC-01m
Tags: Thomas Barran

[ Out of Control… ]
"Galactic Basic" | ~ Telepathic communication ~ | << comm. channel >>
​

Now I was pretty sure Barran was a stronger Force user than I thought. Or just his other personality. I almost started laughing at this; if my mood hadn’t been so bad and Asher’s death hadn’t hurt so much, I’d certainly do it. Nice little company, we all have multiple personalities. We fit the Maw perfectly, though at least we didn’t have another personality of the opposite sex or gender, just him.

I didn’t count Kallan in this, because he wasn’t mine, I just saved him. And this reminded me of my own fault again, that I couldn’t save Asher. Well, one thing was absolutely certain, when Barran's other personality introduced himself, my eyes widened for a moment. I think Thomas is a lot crazier and more insane than Asher or I am ever were. I snarled again.

I don’t even know if I wanted to laugh at this or not. I have never met a personality who considered themselves a god. What would the Taskmaster or the Heathen Priests have said if they had heard that one of Barran's personalities believed herself to be Rebirth? One of the Dark Three? I don't think they would be happy. But it is certain that, as in my case about Freedom, here one personality is able to use of the Force better than the original personality.

And apparently “Rebirth” didn’t even feel as much pain as Barran because he stood up easily and walked to the window. When he mentioned the snarl, I started snarling again. How much should I go into her game? Because I didn't believe for a moment that she was who she said she was. It took more than a few “Sith” tricks for believe in such a thing. After all, anyone could do that.

"Why should I believe that, you are Rebirth? Maybe you'll bring him back?" I asked her/him.

Gods did not exist, and there was nothing in Freedom's memories to make the Dark Three a reality. Last but not least, I never believed in them. A few times though, I asked them a thing or two; which was always to take care of Asher and bring him back to me. My request was not granted; even if they are real, I will never worship them as Gods. They were nothing more than big jerks and Bantha mucks…

 

[Thomas Barran]

9TH POST

THE NEW CYCLE

THE AFTERMATH OF TYTHON

Thomas Barran
"The Bloodhound"

TRIBAL-WARLORD OF THE SCAR HOUNDS
WARDEN OF RHIGAR & MAR'ZAMBUL

Tags: Keilara Kala'myr

SHRIVEN NO MORE: THE PAINS OF REVELATION - PART 9

INFIRMARY, THE MONGREL'S FLASGSHIP,
EN ROUTE TO MAR'ZAMBUL (EARLY-WINTER OF 876 ABY)

'Why should I believe that, you are Rebirth? Maybe you'll bring him back?'​

A feisty one was this mortal, and in such a way that it seemed almost animalistic as she snarled at the Avatar, enough to warrant feigned shock as she responded,'That snarl though, and you'll still get away with it somehow.... Not bad for a mortal anyway.', raising eyebrows as she drew her posture back a little. 'But demanding proof of divinity? Really?', Rebirth calmly continued, pausing to gauge the reaction of the grieving mortal as she lazily looked into the eyes that still displayed a rather wicked mirth that was rather poor to contain.

'Interesting, but I cannot even confirm he is dead. Your Warlord cannot be found in the Netherworld, nor was his soul made fire by the Dark Voice Solipsis. Either he hides well, or you hide his soul elsewhere.... So much for,"Bringing him back", as proof of divinity, hm?'

This time, though it would still be a lesser example to that of the mortal's own, it would the celestial's turn to snarl; and though she had concealed it well in drifting her gaze to the window and off to the rushing stars beyond, there would no doubt be teeth bared visibly enough for Mercy to see, a snarl no Woad was ever known for baring. Such expressions were always covered grimacing by the lips and philtrum alike, and especially so in the Bloodhound's case, in life, death and second-life alike, seemingly more infuriated by the fact she was being played, and in perceived ignorance of the fact Rebirth was playing her own game. A game apart from the one she suspected to be in league with the mortal, the celestial who poised herself in perpetuity against all three of the Avatars. But Rebirth liked games, she played them on the mortals all the time before the Dark Voice first called out to them, and for a while after that, though only until the soul of the Shriven One came screaming out of the ground on Durace.