Private The Purpose of Sacrifice

[Marcus Dinn]

“Marcus, what is the purpose of sacrifice?”

Marcus, who had been looking out the window of the transport at the rapidly approaching Palace of Alvaria, turned his gaze toward Silas Fogg, who sat across from him. “It depends on who is doing the sacrificing,” he replied, eyes distant as he searched his visions for the right answer that would satisfy his mentor. “But I know that you mean Sith sacrifice.”

“Just answer the question,” Silas said, with a slight roll of his piercing blue eyes.

“The Sith perform sacrifices to the glory of the Dark Side,” Marcus continued. “But they always get something out of it in return. Power, usually. We use sacrificial blood to temper our swords, and kill to create life. That is what you plan on having me do here, isn't it?” He had yet to perform a sacrifice yet during his alchemy training.

"Right as always." Silas nodded. “What about the Jedi?”

“They sacrifice themselves for the Light Side.” He smirked. Someday he would disabuse a Jedi of such self-righteous vanity.

The transport alighted on the palace’s landing pad, where they would soon be met by Darth Malum, the ruler of this world. Silas stood up. “Let me do the talking,” he said sternly. “Do not interrupt.”

“Not even if you’re about to say or do something that will get you killed?” Marcus asked innocently. His visions told him there was a very low probability of such an outcome, but it wasn’t zero.

His remark achieved the desired effect from Silas, who cast a wary glance the boy’s way. The master alchemist would not admit it, but he would let Marcus speak freely now.

They exited the shuttle together.

Darth Malum of House Marr​

 

[Darth Malum of House Marr]

Malum watched from the side, as the shuttle landed, disgorging its contents of two, one younger, the other older, one familiar, the other unfamiliar. It had not been the first time that Marcus Dinn had been invited to Alvaria, it had not even been the first time that he had been invited under the company of another.

Yet, it seemed the old adage of history rhyming, kept its steady rhythm.

Marcus had broached his interest that very first day upon Alvaria, and he had only proved it in their battle against the Mo- Mandalorians. Thankfully those of the Enclave's persuasion, rather than the Protectors, allowed for far less guilt, all things considered, after having made a pact with one, in the form of Mia Monroe , and having... well... been courting, another, in the form of Elise Ahana-Gwyneira .

And unfortunately... or perhaps, fortunately, that was far from the end of his association with Mor- Mandalorians.

Much of it, thankfully, was as secret as it was.

Yet Marcus, the adopted grandson of the Sith Emperor, a very valuable piece on this Dejarik board that they had found themselves on.

It had been that which made him so valuable politically.

But it was not that which had taken his interest, the lad, though his height very much precluded him from that title, had a good head on his shoulders, as disinterested, and perhaps apathetic as he was regarding certain matters of the Sith.

And though Malum had found himself, spending an increasing amount of time, with his brother in, the form of Zachariah Conway , he did not forget the son of his old acquaintances, Arcturus Dinn and Ishani Dinn . Acquaintance was the keyword in that sentence, for after all, he held no true loyalty to either, did not even know where they were, if they even yet lived.

Yet, they had been peers... of sorts, in this Order.

And if he intended to use their son against his grandfather.

Well, at the very least, he could make sure his affairs were in order, and he was well.

Malum offered a smile, and a nod of his head as they fully exited the vessel, "Greetings, once again to one of you, but to the other, welcome to Alvaria, I am Darth Malum, of House Marr at your service, King of this world, and I hope its hospitality will make you feel at home."

He knew Marcus.

He did not know the other.

It would be here to find the measure of him, he imagined.

 

[Marcus Dinn]

“Silas Fogg, Master Alchemist, at your service,” Silas said with a sweeping bow. He was quite a bit older than he looked, having kept his appearance youthful through the use of alchemy. The only indication of his true age was in the cynical knowing of his gaze. His cold blue eyes had seen more than his unlined face would suggest.

Marcus followed his master’s example, bending at the waist before Malum. “Glad to be back, sir,” he greeted with a tight smile. His last visit to Alvaria had been anxiety-inducing, to say the least. He and a bunch of other acolytes who had fled a training mission on Bith were gathered up and sent to Malum for questioning. By "questioning" he had understood it to mean they would be facing consequences for their actions. He had been correct, although Malum surprised him by giving the group what amounted to an aggressive pep talk.

Except for Ansisa , who seemed determined to challenge Malum's authority. He wondered what had happened to her. She seemed to have disappeared...

Silas straightened up. “I hear your laboratory is quite advanced, with state of the art equipment and a variety of resources at your disposal. If it is as well-equipped as I have been told, I am sure our time here will be well spent.”

With that, Silas revealed their hand. They were here for the alchemy lab, nothing more. Marcus wasn’t stupid. He knew Malum must’ve had some hidden agenda for letting them come here, though his visions had been frustratingly quiet on the matter. But as long as Silas’ alchemical facilities were being renovated, master and apprentice needed a place to practice their craft. They would accept Darth Malum's generosity.

Darth Malum of House Marr​

 

[Darth Malum of House Marr]

"A pleasure to make your acquaintance then, Master Fogg," Malum offered with the same smile perched upon his lips, he knew much of alchemy he had been taught it personally by Darth Ophidia after all, and having some part of her swimming about in the back of his mind only reinforced what he had been taught, what he knew, and let him learn what else he may not known.

Still, he could never claim to be truly passionate about the subject.

The sorcerous arts had always been more his custom.

Such that having a master alchemist here could certainly be called a boon, the fact that he simply had come along with Marcus Dinn was a plus.

His red eyes softened imperceptibly at the greeting from Marcus, "Well I am truly glad to hear that, Lord Dinn," Perhaps his smile widened to some degree, however, Malum would never admit to such, "I hope you have kept to your studies, I will admit I am curious to witness how you have improved." Of all the apprentices and acolytes which he had to speak to on Alvaria that day, he would wager that Marcus held the most potential of them all.

Not only as a Sith Lord.

But as a Sith Lord of the calibre, ideology, and philosophy which Malum sought to see come to fruition.

Such had to be nurtured just as much as his potential usefulness.

Of course, that would be what he said once upon a time, but well... after everything that had come after that day on Alvaria, he knew one other apprentice had also far overtaken his expectations...

...He had not expected that, but such was the way of Ansisa ... Kara...

The bond that lay between them still lay ever closed.

He snapped out of his thoughts as Silas Fogg continued to speak, eyes trailing to consider the man younger than what his age would have suggested, "Yes, yes, I imagined that would be to your interest, please, follow me, I imagine you shall not be disappointed in the bounty within my halls... though perhaps once we have reached there and begin preparations, I may... see if young Marcus has taken my lessons to heart?" Malum spoke, turning on his to begin marching away, before pausing to query, if Silas Fogg wished to be so open with his intentions, Malum would extend the same courtesy.

 

[Marcus Dinn]

"Well I am truly glad to hear that, Lord Dinn, I hope you have kept to your studies, I will admit I am curious to witness how you have improved."

Marcus gave him a thin-lipped smile. During their previous encounter, Marcus stood accused of cowardice. To this day he viewed his actions as justifiable—but his justifications weren't enough to deter the wrath of the Sith Lords around him. They wanted results. It was all they cared about.

He and Silas followed Malum into the fortress. Marcus intentionally fell into step behind his master in a subconscious attempt at placing a barrier between himself and the Darth.

"... Though perhaps once we have reached there and begin preparations, I may... see if young Marcus has taken my lessons to heart?"

"The choice is his." Silas' gaze flicked toward his apprentice. "I have yet to see any difference for myself. Perhaps he would do better to learn from experience."

Marcus felt both their gazes upon him, awaiting an answer. He clenched his jaw. "You may test me, my lord. I will pass."

Darth Malum of House Marr​

 

[Darth Malum of House Marr]

It was impossible not to notice the tension in the air, Malum could only wonder what exactly the relationship was between Marcus Dinn and this Silas Fogg, to turn the once-outspoken, if perhaps rather cautious lad he once knew... to someone rather silent, even subordinate. Indeed, he was subordinate in all matters here, in rank and station.

Yet it was rare for an apprentice to truly accept that.

The steps of three finally brought them down the Palace's depths, the lighting noticeably darkened, though seemingly more for the aesthetic than any real lack of lights.

"It was thought better that the alchemic activities take place outside of sight and mind, and some of the more... rare ingredients we have here prefer to grow in the dark," Malum spoke by way of explanation, more out of a need to fill the silence than anything else.

As they finally reached down into the void, pressing open the great oaken doors, and revealing the room within. All the tools of the alchemic process were laid out, along with a small library in the corner with treatises and books aplenty, numerous side doors with signage that indicated what they were, from material storage, to a small glasshouse.

He turned back towards Fogg, tilting his head, "I imagine this will suffice?" Before his eyes turned towards young Lord Dinn, noting the words that came out of the old alchemist's lips, and Marcus' rebuttal, "I do not doubt he will far surpass my expectations," He offered with a smile, patting Dinn's shoulder, and bidding him follow.

 

[Marcus Dinn]

The walk to the laboratory was a much longer journey than Marcus anticipated. They descended down into the bowels of the estate, where no light penetrated through the layers of packed earth and solid stone. Malum offered an explanation, mentioning ingredients that preferred to grow in the dark.

"That kind of alchemy is ancient indeed," Silas said, keeping the frayed edges of his robes from touching the floors. "It is said that we began with metallurgy. But I have long suspected that the true origin of our craft was in the making of potions and poisons."

"How do they know where it all began?" Marcus muttered, ducking his head to avoid scraping the rocky ceiling.

"Because the Je'daii were the first to call it such, with their 'alchemy of flesh'," Silas answered with a smirk. "Yes, the Je'daii. Despite taking the name, the Jedi of today have very little in common with their predecessors, who had no qualms about using the Force to alter and create. They believed they were simply spurring on the natural evolution of living beings. We Sith are not so self-righteous about it."

They reached the lab at last. Marcus wandered around, taking in the sights with wide eyes, practically salivating over the state-of-the-art gene matrix and tanks, the exquisitely rare titles in the little library, and the exotic plants in the greenhouse.

"I imagine this will suffice?"

"Indeed," Silas replied. He was just as impressed as Marcus, if not more, but he endeavored to be more dignified about it. "You have my gratitude. And while I am here, the fruits of my labors will be yours to enjoy, should you wish." He didn't expect Malum to host them for nothing.

Marcus tried not to bask in Malum's praise. But when words of encouragement or approval are in such short supply, one cannot help but stretch toward the warmth. Even if its source could potentially burn you.

He left Silas to set up in the lab, following Malum. "Thank you, my lord. It is most... generous of you to let us use your lab," the boy said, choosing his words carefully. You can't really call a Sith Lord kind or gracious, but politeness was generally well-received by even the cruelest of Masters.

Darth Malum of House Marr​

 

[Darth Malum of House Marr]

"You truly are a master of your craft, Master Fogg," Malum noted with the same smile still placid upon his face, "It has long seemed evident to me that as much as this art has tended itself towards the abiotic realm, the biotic is equally as intriguing, those who sought elixirs of immortality, and panaceas for the greatest ills did not set off with no basis," Malum spoke, having stopped his exit, intrigued enough to continue to converse with the seemingly... grouchy master.

He could not help but chuckle as he continued on regarding the Je'daii, "And you know your history as well, how refreshing, I certainly have renewed confidence that my labs shall be in good hands then," He noted with no small amount of satisfaction as both master and apprentice were filled with awe over the sight that greeted them, of course, the latter far more obviously, the young Dinn wandering about, wide-eyed, yet Master Fogg though he did hide it, the glimmer in his eyes was impossible truly hide.

His smile perhaps widened, hearing the rest of Master Fogg's words, "I would be greatly enriched to have your produce, alas though I learned much of the subject, I never did have the patience for it, a weakness of mine, I would be glad to have solved." For all the knowledge which circled in his mind from his Mistress, for all that his Mistress indeed circled his mind, for all the treatises and texts that he had recovered.

He had long ago realised, alchemy was not for him.

He could do it, but the sorcerous arts, the blade, had always called to him far more urgently.

Turning, he quirked an eyebrow at the cautiously preening young Dinn.

The boy certainly needed more praise, it seemed his master was tight-lipped, and they seemed to have a rather... frosty relationship.

Turning further away, he began to leave Master Fogg to his giddiness, perhaps in the privacy of the labs letting out the emotions he kept within, noting Marcus Dinn 's trailing form, and words far from confident, nor befitting the grandson of the Sith Emperor, adopted or not.

"I would rather a master use it for all our benefits, rather than it go to waste," Malum answered warmly, red eyes turning to meet green, "Now tell me, what have you learned since I last saw you?" He led them on a path to the training chamber, up the stairs they had taken to reach down here, allowing a slow enough pace for a worthwhile conversation to take hold.

 

[Marcus Dinn]

Malum made an attempt at engaging them in conversation on the topic of alchemy, which he claimed to be knowledgeable of but not well-practiced in. He used a lot of big words that might have made him sound smarter, if it hadn't been obvious he was merely parroting what Silas had already said back to them with different wording. Marcus spared a little glance toward his master. They would laugh about this later.

"I would be greatly enriched to have your produce, alas though I learned much of the subject, I never did have the patience for it, a weakness of mine, I would be glad to have solved."

Silas nodded his head, but said nothing more. He turned his attention to his work, setting up the lab to accommodate his next project.

Marcus headed up the stairs, memorizing the route between the lab and the training room where Malum ultimately led him. The Marr estate was vast; it would be to his benefit to know his way around sooner rather than later.

"I would rather a master use it for all our benefits, rather than it go to waste. Now tell me, what have you learned since I last saw you?"

Marcus opened his mouth, only to hesitate. He had been ready to tout the details of his training under Silas Fogg, but he sensed that wasn't what Malum wanted to hear. He wanted to know what lessons the acolyte had learned about what it means to be Sith.

"I have learned... that you have only yourself to depend upon," he answered. "That people are only interested in their own gain, and knowledge is true power. That the Jedi are hypocrites, and war, not peace, is the way of things. Without conflict, there could be no growth and no change."

Darth Malum of House Marr​

 

[Darth Malum of House Marr]

Malum held the distinct impression that he had said something wrong, though what exactly he could not be certain of, Marcus Dinn 's small glance towards his master, and said master's wordless nod towards Malum had triggered in the back of his mind, a kernel of thought...

...Alas there was little time to consider the matter too stringently.

He raised an eyebrow, the hesitation making itself evident across young Marcus' face, he probably should not have raised the brow, how would that make the acolyte any more confident in any answer he gave? Yet, though much of Malum's training even before he had become an apprentice to the Queen of Shadows had been the curtailing of instincts.

In this case, it seemed he had lapsed.

Still, as the acolyte spoke, Malum's brow stayed exactly where it was.

Intriguing.

In the distance lay the entrance to the training room, "I am curious how you came to those conclusions," Malum was also rather curious what the hesitation had been in regards to, even somewhat surprised that he had chosen this topic, most young acolytes were far more concerned with speaking of their skills, rather than of philosophy.

Yet perhaps he should not be surprised that the Emperor's grandson would be unlike most.

"I do not disagree with most of what you have said, but you must remember that the galaxy is far from as inflexible that you can paint it all with one brush," There was though much on the minutia of what he said that Malum disagreed with, and if such distinctions were not made, the young Dinn would certainly be learning the wrong lessons, "While it is only yourself you can truly depend on, to depend on others is a necessity, to be alone will leave you weak, it is about finding those you can depend upon, those loyal," His steps echoed along the walls of the palace, pillars leaving him behind, holding up the ceiling above as they neared their destination, "Generally most are interested in their own gain, however, that is not necessarily always the case, and not necessarily always a negative, exploit the former, and align the latter with your own objectives," He was not his apprentice, it likely was not Malum's place to educate him.

Still, it was not as if Malum had hidden his want to bring the young man under the veil of the Tsis'Kaar.

He offered a smile as they reached the door, "Remind me to take you to the library, knowledge is power, but it is not the only one, those that can swing brutally can cut a book in half, do not discount such... dull methods, they are its own power, and there are many other avenues," To be able to wield knowledge was most often the true power, the difference between passive knowing, and active participation.

He chuckled at the end of his words, straining his arms to open the great oaken doors, revealing multiple dips, near craters yet flat, along the floor, sand was present in each, along with stairs down to each, makeshift arenas, rather than needing to build upwards, the old Alvarians had rather carved downwards.

"You are right that the Jedi are hypocrites, they are slaves, and rather than wishing to break their chains, they would clasp more around them, they are misguided... and ought to be shown the truth of darkness." How exactly would he respond to that idea?

Malum took his first step down into one of the pits, bidding Marcus follow, feeling the crack of sand upon his boots.

 

[Marcus Dinn]

"I am curious how you came to those conclusions."

"Through experience, my lord," Marcus replied. "The best teacher of all."

Saahar, Ansisa, Revna. They were his peers among the Sith, fellow acolytes. He had tried to be kind to them. In return, Saahar had abandoned the Sith to join their ancient enemies, the Jedi; Ansisa had only wanted a sword from him, and Revna... Revna had been a mistake. Amani Serys-Organa, the Chief Healer of the Jedi Order, did not care that he was the twin brother of her student. Nor had she tried to "heal" him in spirit. She just went straight for his throat. He was, admittedly, a little offended that she hadn't bothered with a conversion attempt.

A sudden pang of grief threatened to shatter his heart in his chest. He hadn't felt this way when his sister Eloise ran away from home, nor even when he first discovered she had gone to the Jedi. But now, thinking about her there and himself here, he was forced to bite his lip to hold back tears. It was easy to not notice his glassy eyes in the darkness.

Malum offered his own thoughts on the lessons learned. Marcus filed away the advice about finding loyal subjects to depend upon, exploiting the agendas of others to align their interests with his own, and the blunt brutality of physical force. But his mind was wandering, distracted.

They had reached the training room, a multi-level arena. Each area was filled with sand, rather than the cushioned mats Marcus was used to seeing in dojos. Sand implied an ancient origin... and a lack of care for the injuries dealt during sparring. Sand was a pain in the ass to fight in. He would know—his father infamously gained the moniker "Sandman" because he would use it against his enemies, blinding and disorienting them with the bothersome dust he carried around in his pockets.

"I would like to see the library," Marcus commented as soon as it was mentioned. "It must be as grand as the rest of your home that I have seen."

"You are right that the Jedi are hypocrites, they are slaves, and rather than wishing to break their chains, they would clasp more around them, they are misguided... and ought to be shown the truth of darkness."

Standing before one of the sand-filled pits, Marcus turned his green-eyed gaze upward. "I have often thought of what it would be like to turn a Jedi to the Dark Side," he said wistfully. "It is a dream of mine." One shoulder shifted, preparing to shed his cloak. "Are we going to train now?"

Darth Malum of House Marr​

 

[Darth Malum of House Marr]

He blinked, and then blinked again, and for good measure, he blinked once again, and before he realised, a shallow chuckle expanding out to one of a certain sharpness filled the pit, a chortle at just how straightforward, and simply matter-of-factual his answer was, "Too right," Malum passed through his lips, attempting to calm his raucous lungs, "Too right indeed, only through real trials do we truly learn," It was only through touching a burning hot pan that a child learned to spare their fingers.

It was only through mistakes made that an acolyte learned how to become a knight.

Still, it did not stop Malum's wish to see if he could spare them that.

Still, the good spirits as they always did, had to come to an end eventually, Malum noticing a shift in the young Dinn.

A shift that was gone as quickly as Malum had noticed it.

A shift that... Malum was not even sure what it was... or indeed, if it had been there in the first place.

Odd.

And they shifted easily to another topic, with caution, red eyes glimmered with mirth, "It is grander than most, still less grand than some, I could always use more texts, yet, I am content with the collection I do own, I will show you once we are concluded here, I imagine you will want something to do outside apprenticing under your master, or training with me," Though Malum would need to look into other activities for him, while he imagined the young man did enjoy reading, how could one be interested in alchemy without it? There was more to life than apprenticeship, training, and reading...

...Perhaps he would be interested in a ball, thrown by him, or any of the Alvarian nobility...

...Perhaps.

It was the end of his words that at the end would prove most enlightening, perhaps indeed there was a kindred soul in this young Dinn, "Is there a specific Jedi you would wish to turn?" He mused, he could imagine there was, he had heard from Zachariah Conway of his meeting with his adopted sister on Myrkr.

It had been far from a positive encounter, but they were after all siblings by law, rather than blood.

Between a Sith brother in front of him, a Jedi sister out in the core... Malum could only imagine the agony.

And as for turning Jedi... his mind wandered to Corazona von Ascania , among the few Jedi he not only respected but held some... some misguided affection for.

To show her the truth, to save her, to prove to himself he could convince one of the only Jedi that truly embodied what it meant to be a Jedi, the truth of the darkness...

...It would be worth anything.

It seemed they both shared a dream then.

Malum blinked out the thoughts, as he took up a wider stance, nodding in the affirmative, "Show me what else you have learned."

Marcus Dinn

 

[Marcus Dinn]

Malum laughed, evidently finding the sentiment amusing. Marcus didn't smile. The life of an acolyte was such that one mistake could cost you your life. There would be no forgiveness for the unworthy.

"I will show you once we are concluded here, I imagine you will want something to do outside apprenticing under your master, or training with me."

The boy inclined his head in gratitude. "True." Silas frequently would send him away while he worked on more "advanced" projects. There was a reason for that. Marcus recalled the feeling of slimy green skin under his hands, having to constantly adjust his slipping grip, the trembling ache in his tired muscles...

"Is there a specific Jedi you would wish to turn?"

Marcus blinked, snapping out of his reverie. "No one specific, though I suppose I have an ideal subject in mind," he replied, smoothing a gloved hand over his tunic. "It can't be just anybody. I want to corrupt a respected, beloved Jedi. Someone they will miss."

It was time to train. After divesting himself of his outer garments, Marcus took his lightsaber in hand. He thumbed the activation stud on the hilt, but didn't ignite the blade just yet. Darth Malum wanted to see what he had learned.

"Drop your weapon," he commanded, Force-imbuing his voice with a powerful compulsion.

Darth Malum of House Marr​

 

[Darth Malum of House Marr]

He was intriguing, where Arcturus had been all smiles, and Rhiannon all ferocity, their son was... it was not that he was cold, though he was unsmiling, it was more as if he held a ferocity, though it was not his mother's, rather than a blazing fire, his was a freezing storm. Though, from what he had learned from Zachariah, if the sister was able to lay out her mother's tongue lashing, he imagined that the son could too.

Alas, for now, it was hidden behind the mask which most acolytes used to stay alive.

He tilted his head at his answer, a small smile touching his lips, "Ambitious, mayhaps I will help you achieve that goal," Malum spoke with a smooth silkiness in his tone, respected, beloved, someone they would miss, those were certainly punitive criteria. Yet, so deliciously sweet as well, there were few Jedi that could be categorised as that, who were also malleable enough to be turned.

Yet... he believed he did know one.

He blinked away the thought at the sound of Marcus finishing his preparations, Malum reached into his robes, drawing out the hilt of a lightsabre, the Sith Sword remaining on his back for now.

"Drop your weapon,"

Malum blinked, as red orbs went glassy, the hilt of the unignited blade falling out of his gloved grip to dig into the sand.

As he blinked again, the haze dissipated.

That was...

Unexpected.

The Force swirled about him, as out from his fingertips, white lightning burst out of him towards Marcus, all the while, Malum pulled the hilt of the lightsabre back to him, eyes resting upon the Dinn, impressed already, and curious what he would do.

Marcus Dinn
Mentioned: Corazona von Ascania

 

[Marcus Dinn]

Malum pronounced him ambitious. The descriptor came as a bit of a shock—Marcus didn’t consider himself ambitious. He just wanted his actions to be worthwhile, for his corruption of a Jedi to mean something.

He supposed that did make him ambitious. After all, the average person’s life was worthless in the grand scheme. He didn’t have any intrinsic value to anyone but the people who loved and cared for him… and they were in short supply these days. Yet he wanted to convert someone whose life was worth more than his.

Well, he supposed he’d have to work on increasing the capital of his soul.

“If you know of a Jedi that would fit the criteria, I’d be grateful if you could point me in their direction,” he said, after Malum offered to “mayhaps” help him achieve his goal.

What happened next, Marcus didn’t expect. He had used this power before on ordinary mortals, but not another Force User. As the compulsion fell from his lips he assumed it wouldn’t affect Malum—or if it did, he would easily shake it off. Instead he watched with wide eyes as the Sith Lord’s lightsaber fell into the dust. It worked.

Oh shit, it worked!

White lightning arced from Malum’s fingertips toward Marcus. The boy quickly ignited his blade, blocking the current. This wasn’t a vengeful act; the electricity grinding against his lightsaber wasn’t quite lethal. But Malum’s response had been swift enough to startle him into a purely defensive maneuver.

Fight back!

Marcus slowly freed one hand from its iron grip on his hilt, dragging part of the lightning with it. Using the Force, he redirected the current back to its origin—Darth Malum.

Darth Malum of House Marr​

 

[Darth Malum of House Marr]

Red eyes flooded with mirth, as the smirk easily came to Malum's lips, oh certainly it would not be an enjoyable experience being struck by his Mistresses' lightning, but as much as acolytes like Marcus needed to be prepared full force for what awaited them outside the protections offered within Sith Space... and even then, one was not always guaranteed those protections... he could hardly throw all caution aside and unveil the full strength of a Sith Lord.

Alas, that did not excuse underestimating the young Dinn, he had proven himself capable, and Malum would respect that in the only way that Sith should be warranted it.

Still, it seemed Marcus wished to impress him further, having caught his lightning on his blade, and the telltell signs of tutaminis emerging by his palms. It was a pattern Malum noticed amongst the next generation of acolytes, even amongst the Jedi padawans, a propensity of power which far overshadowed earlier generations, the question only remained if such would prove linear, or even proportional, or if indeed they were beginning to plateau early.

The lightning cascaded forth out of his hand, Malum's own lighnting redirected, as if it had merged from the acolyte himself. If it was possible, the smirk widened.

Pushing his arm forward, the open palm was readied, as Malum felt the shift in the air, the heat and the fire, commanding the Force to obey his will, demanding it follow suit with his design, he felt it flow up his veins, coiling around his wrists, and pool in his palms. He let out a narrow hiss, as the impact made itself felt, yet, where pain should have held command, instead, it was as if a buzz flowed up his limbs.

As the lightsabre, on the other hand, fell back into the depths of his robes, his other hand struck out, the ring upon his fingers, glowing a dangerous orange.

Before in a burst of flames, quickly coalescing into a wall rushing forward, rapidly burning ever hotter from orange to white to blue, fueled by the lightning funneling in from one hand, and expunged from the other, travelling towards the acolyte before him.

Marcus Dinn

 

[Marcus Dinn]

Malum mirrored his power, using Tutaminis to reabsorb the energy Marcus had thrown back at him. It wasn't an especially original move, but it did have an effect on Marcus. The message was clear: I can do everything you can do better than you.

If thrusting his lightsaber-wielding hand into his robes where it would be out of the acolyte's sight wasn't a dead giveaway, Marcus could sense that Malum was up to something through his aura in the Force. He ceased his Tutaminis in preparation to defend himself from whatever came next, merely blocking the lightning stream with his blade once more.

Malum's hand emerged empty from his robes. Yet Marcus immediately saw something glinting on his finger. A ring. Marcus was intrigued, his alchemical interest overtaking the fear he should have felt at the sight of a weapon of unknown power. The ring continued to glow brighter, taking on an orange radiance suggestive of... fire.

Raising his hand, Marcus generated a barrier. The wall of flame erupted around the bubble of energy, turning the sands of the dojo to glass and scorching the wall behind him. But the boy remained protected within the sphere. It hadn't even singed his hair.

"Where did you get that pyro ring?" he asked, unable to hide his enthusiasm for imbued gadgets. He even held off on attacking Malum, giving the Sith Lord time to answer.

Darth Malum of House Marr​

 

[Darth Malum of House Marr]

Malum mentally mused, if there was a caricature of him in his brain, no doubt he would be stroking his chin. Force Barrier, certainly not the wrong move to play, but for Malum's case, it was far too limiting. One had little indication of how powerful an attack was until it landed, and though Marcus could at least expect his opponent was holding back, such was not always the case.

Throwing up a shield, only for your opponent to break it, left you undefended, it had always been Malum's way to avoid attacks, to defend against them was a final resort speaking to an inability to be fast enough, to be agile enough. Moreover, to defend, lost one momentum, made them still, and forced waiting for the opponent's next move, rather than making your own. None won by being on the defensive. Still, he could hardly say as much now, for all he might claim it as a move that indicated room for improvement, it had in this instance worked, as the newly formed glass around the acolyte indicated.

Malum could only show him the flaw.

Yet first, a grin fell upon his face, as the question was asked with such visible enthusiasm, "Ironically enough, I found it in a museum on Eliad, your mother and I traded a few different objects back then, the ring was one which I claimed for myself," Bogan, it had been so much easier back then.

Yet, as he spoke, he was already demanding the Force be in motion, as around him, the energy was making itself manifest, first whispy black lines, and then a fog coalescing into darkness, a smog as it took shape, tilting about its own axis, five spears of the Darkside, were constructed.

And as his answer concluded, they were launched forward.

Marcus Dinn
Mentioned: Ishani Dinn

 

[Marcus Dinn]

"Ironically enough, I found it in a museum on Eliad, your mother and I traded a few different objects back then, the ring was one which I claimed for myself."

He knew what Malum was referring to, yet the visions had never shown him such a ring. Marcus eyed the piece of jewelry hungrily. So many of the galaxy's crypts and collections had already been ransacked, their treasures seized. To happen upon such a trove of riches would have been a dream come true for the boy whose galaxy seemed so empty, scraped out by past plunderers.

There wasn't much time to dwell on the barren world he had inherited, though. Malum had used the break in fighting to prepare another attack. Marcus recognized it for what it was: a powerful variant of Darkshear. Multiple spears constructed from the Dark Side itself came shooting toward him. This was not an attack which could be easily blocked. He could not be on the defensive.

Marcus managed to dodge the spears with some difficulty, leaping out of the way as each spear followed his path across the arena. Once the last spear had dissipated into the sand, he grabbed something from his belt and flung it at Malum.

It was a dagger of recall, virtually identical to that which his father had wielded. With a perpetually sharp edge and a relentless drive to pursue its target, it homed in on the Sith Lord, intent on stabbing him through the heart.

Sure, this was a "friendly" duel meant for practice. Marcus didn't think he would succeed in killing Malum. But on the very unlikely chance he did, well... He was definitely taking that ring.

Darth Malum of House Marr​