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​