The Road to Dawn (Part V)

[Darth Metus]

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Throne Room - Castle Ne'tra​

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The throne room within the heart of Castle Ne'tra was an area scarcely frequented by the living. This was due to the fact that the lord of the citadel, Darth Metus, was constantly on the move; conducting missions in order to push the agenda of the Confederacy of Independent Systems. However, this day was different, and the Dread Lord returned home in order to indulge in a much needed period of rest and relaxation. Furthermore, there was a need for the Mandalorian to introduce his newest apprentice, @[member="Nima Ven"], to the methods by which he would train her. To this end, the beskar-clad warrior had summoned the Twi'lek to this room and had seen fit to be seated upon his throne when she arrived. As a whole, the space was not as lavish as others found throughout the Galaxy; but Metus proferred simplicity over ridiculous sums of decoration.

For lighting, the room was illuminated by rows of ornate candlesticks combined with a chandelier directly over the throne itself. Flawlessly polished, marble tiles composed the entirety of the throne room's floor; and a single, crimson carpet wound its way through the center. Its length ran from the two towering doors of mahogany to the feet of the Dread Lord's seat itself. The throne was situated upon an elevated platform characterized by a handful of steps; and was floored with carpet of the same hue. The throne itself was high-backed and wrought from gold. Intricate carvings characterized the surface of the seat, and plush, crimson cushions were affixed to it. As a whole, the throne was the definition of comfort for the one sitting upon it; but also fulfilled the role of intimidation...for this was Isley's throne, and Isley's castle.

And so, the beskar-clad Mandalorian sat upon his throne, awaiting the arrival of his newest student in the Force.

@[member="Nima Ven"].

 

[Nima Ven]

Nima walked down the thick line of red carpet, each step causing a hallow echo to reverberate off the marble floor. Her head craned back, allowing her a glance at the chandelier that provided an orange white glow. She had never seen such a lavish room as this and she was enjoying drinking in the heavily decorated throne room. It took her a full five minutes to walk down to the throne were her Master awaited. Nima gazed down at her feet as they came to a stop, her head lowered in a respectful bow toward Isley. Her etiquette was nothing more then perfect as she cleared her throat to greet him.

"Master Isley."

@[member="Darth Metus"]

 

[Darth Metus]

Patience was not exactly a virtue that described the Mandalorian, yet despite this he did not see fit to reprimand his new Apprentice for her taking in the sights of his throne room. After all, he understood her prior predicament quite well; and as such empathized enough to allow her to revel in the awe-inspiring aesthetic of the room. Upon her arrival before his throne, ascension gripped the bones of the Dread Lord and he stood, looming over her almost menacingly for a moment. Calm, confident strides bore the beskar-clad warior down the steps of the platform and Isley began to walk in a small circle around Nima, looking her up and down whilst speaking. "You now have a place to call home." he began, folding his hands behind his back as he made his initial assessments. She was ever so slightly frail, no doubt from her treatment as a slave; and he made a mental note to remedy that as soon as possible...

"Here. Castle Ne'tra...This is your home from this day forward." he punctuated his speech with a momentary silence so that they might echo throughout the throne room; adding gravity to his words. "You have been the subject of abuse and torment, as have I once upon a time. I fumbled throughout the Galaxy, lost, scarred, and confused for so long until I eventually carved out my own way..." Isley then came to a halt before her and reached out, gently lifting her chin so that she could look right into the iconic "T" visor of his helmet. "Without help or a guide, I converted the sorrows and pain of the past into fuel for my power...and now, I shall show you how to do the same. As my Apprentice, the Dark Side of the Force shall be your weapon; and obedience to my commands your ambition. Do we have an understanding, Nima?"

Once more, his words reverberated off the walls with a menacing echo, yet his touch lingered upon her chin. His touch was soft and non-threatening, representing a rather finite point. Isley was strong, and all that strength would never bring harm upon her.

@[member="Nima Ven"].

 

[Nima Ven]

Nima stood perfectly still in the centre of the long carpet as he began to circle her. Admittedly, she had been inspected before, many times, but this time felt different. His eyes felt hot on her skin and she strained not to fidget on the spot. For a moment, the future had drifted into her mind, though her dream like state faded as her head tilted. Nima stared into the visor, unblinking as he spoke. "I understand, Master." She nodded softly against his finger, almost too nervous to disturb his gentle touch. She had no quarrel with his words and simply relished in their contact while it lasted.

@[member="Darth Metus"]

 

[Darth Metus]

Once the Twi'lek had spoken, Isley lowered his hand from her chin and straightway reached for his helmet. He tugged it off of his head and momentarily stowed it underneath the crook of his arm; revealing his piercing gaze. "Good." he said in response before pausing. His eyes, stained orange by the Dark Side, met hers for the first time; unobstructed by his visor. As he looked upon her, the beginnings of a smirk formed upon his lips; for he recognized the endless potential slumbering within her. "The presence of the Force brims within you...and I'm sure that you've felt its touch over the years. That unexplainable, almost...alien...sensation that flares up whenever you feel sorrow, pain, or passion." he began, adjusting his helmet's position until he balanced it upon his hand and outstretched it to her. "Through harnessing those feelings and utilizing them as fuel, you can accomplish great things through the Force." Once spoken, he made a demonstration of this claim: an elementary display of telekinesis. The helmet levitated off of his hand and was suspended into the air, held aloft by his directing of the Force.

"Now it is time for you to attempt that which I have done. Close your eyes and draw upon those memories of pain. Feel the sorrow...and convert it into anger; then use that anger and command my helmet to come to you through the Force. I am confident that you can do this task. Now, do not fail me." With the challenge posed, he relinquished his hold upon the Force and allowed the helmet to settle back down upon his hand. Now, it stood motionless, awaiting the attempt of the Twi'lek before it.

@[member="Nima Ven"].

 

[Nima Ven]

Entranced by his gaze, Nima's eyes never moved from his as he spoke. A smile of her own graced her lips as he lifted the helmet up into her view. She watched dutifully, listening all the while. She had seen the force in use before, it amazed her no less this time then it had the first. She was hesitant to close her eyes at first, squinting until she could see nothing but a hazy line of colour. Then darkness.

It was as if, all this time, her memories had been waiting for this exact moment to emerge. Vivid images passed her mind as she brought up all the painful, distressing experiences. Nima could feel her emotions twisting from sorrow, to fear, to anger. She felt the force bursting through her finger tips as she silently commanded the helmet to her. Her face contorted a little in concentration, still reaping her experiences as she attempted the task. A few moments later, the helmet stirred in his palm, twitching against the flat of his hand. Then all of a sudden, it wizzed toward her and smacked her right in the rib cage.

Nima gasped breathlessly, surprisingly, her fingers hand already curled around the helmet to stop it from falling. The strong metal had winded her, but here it was, in her hands. She glanced down at the top of the helmet, taking slow, silent breaths as she tried to regain her composure. She was sure that something was broken, or bruised, but she had done it. Unbeknown to Nima, a small smile had already found its way across her lips and the remnants of dimples had already been made apparent.

@[member="Darth Metus"]

 

[Darth Metus]

The Mandalorian raised his eyebrow as he awaited the display of telekinesis to be exhibited by his apprentice. Patience, as always, was not a virtue of his; but he did not rush her at all. These were the sort of things that, if necessary, took a snail's pace to achieve. However, in but the span of a few heartbeats...the woman began to exhibit an aura of malice in the Force. Hatred. Pain. Negativity. It bled from her like a fountain that told Isley that she was getting ready to do that which he had commanded. Then, he felt it. The presence of the Force came upon her like a mighty tide and his helmet stirred upon the flat of his palm. The Mandalorian stiffened, making absolutely certain not to move; as that might break her concentration...

Then, like a rocket, his helmet launched out of his hand and collided with the rib of his apprentice. This caused the Mandalorian to grimace ever so slightly, as the thud was enough to denote a possible crack at most, or bruising at the very least. Stepping forward, his touch was gentle and he noted the satisfied smile the woman wore upon her face. "You've done quite well." he said, retrieving his helmet from her grasp gingerly before replacing it upon his head. "Now, you have one more task to achieve...and you will use this newfound pain to accomplish it." The Mandalorian then stepped to her side and faced her again.

"That helmet hit you pretty hard, so you'll need to tend to it soon. However...this is a perfect opportunity to show you the strength that pain, anger, and the Dark Side can afford you. As such...repeat that which you just did. Use your pain as fuel and use the Force to push me as hard as you can. If you can move me across the room, then you'll have officially surprised me. Now, act!"

@[member="Nima Ven"].

 

[Nima Ven]

Nima grimaced a little as he pulled the helmet from her fingers. Stretching her arm had alerted her to just how much damage the helmet had done. There was definitely a cracked rib, she would know the pain anywhere. Ever determined, Nima found it easy to once again focus on the force pulsing through her body. She had no problem twisting the pain of her broken bones and the repressed memory of many others before hand into usable force energy. She felt the anger boiling up inside her, anger for all her previous injuries and the scars that would never fade. Anger for every broken bone that went unaided, every cut that was left unclean. And the pain.

The pain.

Nima flicked her wrist toward her Master. The powerful, untapped force expelled from her fingers. Opening her eyes, she was just in time to see Isley Verd's large frame skidding across the carpeted walk way toward his throne. The whole process had taken less time then the simple display of telekinetic abilities. Nima still felt the anger surging through her body as she cracked a short smile at her own work.

@[member="Isley Verd"]

 

[Darth Metus]

It came as an immense surprise to feel the wall of telekinetic force meet his form with such might. The fact caused his eyes to widen ever so slightly as the unseen pressure plucked his body from solid ground and sent him skidding back across the crimson carpet. This, he eventually countered with a telekinetic push of his own, which slowed him to a gentle halt that concluded with a step. A grin of pride formed upon his lips and the Mandalorian then began to stride forward. "Excellent...You've done well, Nima..." came his gentle tone. Then, without so much as saying a word, he took her arm in his grasp rather firmly and draped it over his shoulder. His offhand then snaked around her waist, taking the pressure and weight off of her wounded rib.

"Come, let's get you all patched up." And with that said, he began guiding her towards the door of the Throne Room, walking at a ginger pace so as to not aggravate her injury.

@[member="Nima Ven"].

 

[Nima Ven]

Her mouth formed a grin of her own, gritting her teeth through the pain. Her ribs throbbed and the display of force use had rendered her slightly exhausted. She was grateful for his shoulder to lean on. Then she felt his hand snake across her waist. She whispered a silent thanks that her skin was red, lest he see the blush forming rapidly over her cheeks. She relaxed in his grasp a little, taking slow steps with his aid. "What's next?" She glanced up at him, offering him a brave face. So far she had even impressed herself. But she could feel her hunger for more knowledge increasing.

@[member="Isley Verd"]

 

[Darth Metus]

Once at the entrance of the throne room, the Mandalorian relied upon the Force in order to heave the towering doors open. At his behest, they slid forth so that they might pass and then Isley continued to be Nima's pillar of strength down the corridor. When met with the inquiry as to what was to come next, the Mandalorian contemplated for a moment before settling her down upon one of the many benches strewn throughout the halls. He then reached up for the cabinet above her head and retrieved the medical kit, from which he produced a roll of bandages. Quick, battlefield mends were a specialty of his; and following this he would see her get proper attention from the Castle's medical droids. "After we get you patched up, we'll begin working on your lightsaber forms and, if you so desire...I can teach you Alchemy." He allowed that offer to hang in the air before taking a step closer. "You'll need to remove your robe so that I can bandage your ribs."

@[member="Nima Ven"].

 

[Nima Ven]

Nima sunk her weight into the bench, resting her back against the cold wall. The chill seemed to take the edge off the dull throbbing of her chest. Though the situation wasn't new to her his presence calmed her. "Alchemy.." Nima paused for a moment, his next words cutting her sentence short. She stiffly pushed herself off the wall, undoing the ties that held her outer robe together. She slid it from her shoulders, before sinking back against the wall again. "Yes please." She almost squeaked. It was harder to hide embarrassment.

@[member="Isley Verd"]