The Unechoing Dread

[Helios]

Moonlight, muted and serene dripped it’s way in across the sill, the window barely tilled as the soft serenade of the night-tide edged it’s way in the window, the whisper of warm winds bringing with it the soothing flutter of leaf and insect alike. The torchlight was a bloody yet pale imitation of the sun flickering upon soaked rags, tied like taut bandages to the splintered wooden torches, fat and reposing within their wrought brackets. The shadows danced, a fluctuant and whimsical waltz that seemed to breathe with a life all it’s own, almost distracting from the single figure in the middle of the floor. Helios, on his knees, meditated deeply, preparing for the impending encounter with the Dark Lord.

The ghost-like appearance of Helios' pale skin proved to be a shocking contrast to the ruddy fabrics that bunched and pooled around him, defined by toned musculature that shuddered with each rugged breath, flexing every shift, every sudden caprice in his movement. His aureate gaze remained closed, Pitch shadow like the unblinking hollow of a blanched skull, whilst charcoal lips parted and allowed the whisper of breath to edge in between ivory barricades to the succulent pink of that lay behind. He swallowed then, an unconscious reaction as the temperate night air began to desiccate at his palate and throat, the action reflecting obviously in the pale column without his consent.

The darkside of the Force drew to Helios, constantly, like moth to flame. He was never without it's touch and vice versa, though at this moment it pooled onto him like an unholy baptismal ritual. The evil energy then manifested, allowing black tendrils to whirl around his still being as he mumbled incoherent dialect, until finally he simply stopped. The Eldorai stood to his feet, the dark energy still visible and moving about his being as if the tendrils were alive...which they were.

The door before him slid open, via the Fore, although Helios didn't actually have to wave his hand to direct his telekinetic power. His stride was even and calm as he moved down the hallway. The bystanders didn't seem too fazed by the display. Those whom lived in Helios' quarters were accustomed to such a sight, and in turn simply moved out of his way to give the Eldorai a nice open space to walk. By the time he'd reached the Dark Lord's throne room, the swell of Dark Energy had dissipated to mere whisps of smoke, although they would remain for as long as Helios wished. They were but a glamor, a constant display of his ties to the Shadows, held aloft by very minimal effort by the Lord of Shadows.

He knew not why the Dark Lord had summoned him here tonight, but he wouldn't question the meeting. Helios exhaled deeply before pushing a smoky hand forth to open one of the massive duel doors leading to the throne of the Dark Lord.

[member="Darth Mierin"]

 

[J3C0]

(I tend to go overboard with the Dark Lord, forgive me)​

While the energy about Helios was a glamor, a show of effort and power that was a conscious act by him, it was not so with the Dark Lord.​

​

As soon as the doors parted, a power spread forth from the room as though an ocean had been unleashed. Tendrils of darkness sprang forth, waves of black and torrents of power unleashes themselves within the room. Strength untold floated within the room, the darkside was so thick within the Throne Hall that the very air seemed to crackle and burn, the oxygen becoming alight as spark of lightning jumped at random, seemingly arching from one nothing, to the next.​

​

The room seemed alight with dread, the very air afire with the strength of the darkside of the force.​

​

It was difficult to breath, the lungs burning as the pure power of the darkside entered oneself.​

​

Across the room from the doors sat a single figure on an unassuming throne, a man, draped in black, skin red as a dying star, yellow lines crossing his flesh with massive glowing bug like eyes. A certain air of mortality clung to him, though it was clear that the creature that sat before Helios was anything but.​

​

The Dark Lord of the Sith looked to Helios, his gaze piercing and all knowing.​

It was a single word, but it was enough to set the world into a hellish pain.​

​

The Dark Lord voice sent reality screaming in abject terror. Pain, Pleasure, Ecstasy, and absolute torture. The Very fabric of existence seemed to shutter with all these feelings at once. Whether he actually spoke, or his will simply drove itself into the fabric of time and space was unclear, but as his will echoed, it seemingly tore a rift within the pattern of reality itself, forcing its intentions upon the universe.​

​

To [member="Darth Helios"]. It would bring joy.​

 

[Helios]

Helios' pale fingertips had barely grazed the metallic door leading to the Dark Lord's throne room when the doors themselves seemingly shimmered and shook. After withdrawing his hand, the scene earned narrow eyes from the unchanging Helios as he took a step back and immediately afterwards witnessed the doors swing open as if pulled by an unseen force. Furious wind, no, energy, pooled past the threshold of the Throne Room flooding Helios awash with darkness and foreign, absolute unprecedented power. A frown followed soon after, causing the corners of his pitch lips to curve downward.

'How?!' Helios moved his head back slightly after the questionable thought crossed his mind. 'Could this not be mine?!' Helios thought resentfully.

As the first of his kind to ascend to his level of power, and to have existed in developing his prowess for a number of years that had escaped the Eldorai centuries prior, he paled considerably in strength at the moment. Helios' aurete eyes skipped sporadically around the room, following the aggressive lashes of lightning that sparked around in the large space. Despite the tenebrosity of the room, the stark red skin of the Dark Lord was as visible as his xanthous, luminescent slits.
Gloved fingers coiled slowly around the handle of Helios' saberstaff. He advanced then, taking even strides as he crossed into the Throne Room, seemingly stepping into another world. Large waves of forceful energy brushed Helios' body inconsistently every now-and-then, causing his clothes to aggressively rustle as if they were being blown by the wind. His silver hair swayed with the energy majestically however, repeatedly spilling over his shoulders and chest, only to be intensified moreover the closer Helios drew to the throne.

Soon after, his throat dried out quite quickly as the arid presence of the Dark Lord's aura literally sent burning sensations down his esophagus and into his chest.

"Is this the power...of a God? Helios thought to himself flabbergasted.

A momentary flashback grasped Helios' mind. Before he'd left Kaeshana, the Eldorai had many kneel in his presence even when he didn't call for their attention.



Yet at this moment, they all seemed so very insignificant.

In all of his times, all the wars and battles he'd attended, he'd never seen anyone whom displayed such effortless power. Helios thought of the Dark Lord as one of the powerful legends of old whom wielded telekinesis without aid of hand motion or in an aspect Helios was more drawn to, someone whom could conjure weapons without shaping them with their hands. The possibilities of the being's power pounded a myriad of questions into the Eldorai's djarik-board-of-a mind.

Then the Dark Lord spoke. Or did he? The volume of his speech seemed magnified and furthermore threatened the fabric of reality, as if the Dark Side itself was imbued with every tissue of the Dark Lord's body, which would result in a surge of energy to follow his speech moreso than regular audio. Helios thought he saw the air shimmer and wave in front of the Dark Lord's face as he spoke. How did he attain this power?! This level of potentiality is impossible to attain by regular standards. Has he crossed some forbidden plain? Gifted by foreigners of another dimension? Perception didn't follow his questions, nor would answers be inquired. Helios couldn't fathom asking the Dark Lord of his past and what he'd done to acquire this aptitude.

This meeting should have brought joy to the Darksider but instead it birthed cynicism. Helios couldn't overlook the gap in power. But moreso, couldn't react as he wished. To challenge the Dark Lord would be certain death, even to the Lord of Shadows. His head arose, scaling the stairs and upwards to the Throne, resounding a simple statement between parted pitch lips and ivory teeth.



"M'lord."

[member="Darth Mierin"]