A Witch Among Them

[Tireya Syvare]

​

​

Location: Noren, Rimos​

[member="Bedrovelse Hevn"]​

​

​

It was a vastly unknown world, yet had come into the Confederacy’s embrace and even then had seemingly gone without mention or notice. It was shrouded by the marvelous, yet quaint, blue nebula in which it sat and perhaps that is why it had still gone without note or communion with an outside force. Or perhaps it was the four Dragons for which the system’s four satellites were named that were the cause. Did they keep the ever vigilant eye of the galaxy closed to their world’s whereabouts? It was possible, right? Well at least that was the thought of the indigenous peoples of this world with its eerie blue hue that was cast upon its surface as it’s dim sun’s rays trickled through the vast clouds of the nebula it lay nestled within.

The people here were not a united people. They stood, still warring against one another in separate nations in a struggle for power. A race to be the first to explore beyond what was Rimos had held these people, these Rimans as they would come to be known as, back from technological advancement - constantly sabotaging rival nations’ efforts to advance a cause. This was a people held back and even if they seemed to make strides forward and progress, their path would come to a screeching halt due to one calamity or another. It would seem as if their ‘Gods’ wanted them to remain where they were. A constant state of flux and strife. Of war and attrition. Never once being able to truly advance to the next level of their technological evolution.

Tireya, however, had long since separated herself from trivial, self-righteous pursuits of the civilized populace of the planet. And then seen herself excommunicated from druidic tribe when she came in possession of the only items she continued to carry with her. A sword. A bow and quiver. A spear. And this very strange doll that carried about it, a unique personality of its own. And she spoke to it too and through a number of years it seemed the two had developed a bizarre relationship with one another. So bizarre, in fact, that there were murmurings of “witch” and “demon” that followed in her wake. This relationship, paired with the Riman’s ignorance to the existence of the Force, lead to their fearful plight to assuage her efforts to study in this arcane influence which she’d succumb to. For the Rimans, this magic, was vile and malevolent. An evil force that deserved nothing short of extermination. So the fact that Tireya had not had her life stolen away so long ago was a marvel on its own. But perhaps there was a greater power at work here.

---

---

---

“The time approaches, dear.” An icy voice filled the thoughts of the young girl as she scavenged the lands of the sacred island to the west of the planet’s largest continent. “Soon.” The voice faded from existence just as quickly as it had appeared and the girl closed her eyes tightly and tried to shake the chill free of her spine.

It had been years now since Valyra had come to her and still it ravaged her when the spirit trapped within the creepy doll she carried around with her. It was something she not only couldn’t rid herself of, but had no desire too. It was this spirit that had saved her life ten times over. This spirit that had taught her everything she knew of these supernatural abilities in which she possessed. How to alter her environment. And manipulate the weak minds of those who were unfortunate enough to cross her path. If it were not for Valyra, Tireya would have been dead long ago. A naive teenager, cast out five years ago to the day. Something Valyra had somehow worked out for her in place of her execution.

“What happens soon?” Her question came with a scoff for Valyra seemingly always spoke in riddles.

“Soon, my dear. Soon all will reveal itself.” A cold laugh followed this oration from the spirit as the chill once again pierced deeply into the young woman’s spine.

 

[Bedrovelse Hevn]

:: Incoming transmission from the Mandragora::

Hevn’s eyebrows rise as he turns from the dejarik board sitting between him and Alpha, and looks towards the cockpit where Mad Claws sits. He had the Shistavanen in an inevitable vice grip, as was his style of command over any battlefield. Patiently waiting for his trash compactor to assemble so he could squeeze the life from the opposition.

::Brother Hevn. We have run our stores of Norris Root dry. There is a planet nearby your coordinates that has some. The planet has never been graced by the galaxy at large. Take care to keep your mission quiet and concealed.::

Hevn rises from his seat to observe the coordinates on the map. A red ping blips angrily on an island continent slightly beyond the reach of native civilization. Zooming in he sees no planetary shield, or space stations. Provided their tech was too low to deal with his stygmium cloaking device, it would be a relatively simple task to harvest quickly and be back on his way.

He jams his finger into the comm to reply, “Understood. Rerouting now.” Throwing a nod towards Mad Claws, the pilot reroutes their ship towards the Rimos system. As the crew of Charon II exits hyperspace they are met with the rather unusual visage of Rimos. From space it looked like an ideal planet in the sweet zone for human life. That was true as far as their sensors could tell as well. It was the eerie blue light that reflected off the surface of the planet that drew all three of them awestruck to the viewport in the cockpit. It was difficult to say whether it was beautiful in its melancholy glow, or an unsettling foreshadowing of the task to come.

Hevn’s sword Phantasmagoria was stashed away at the moment, but as soon as Rimos came into sight it began to hum. A low vibrating frequency that both Hevn and Alpha could sense. The pair turn toward Hevn armory and exchange a glance of curiosity. Something was awry but neither could tell exactly what.

“Perhaps this won’t be so simple,” Hevn muses aloud. “It’s not hungry...it’s....talking to something.”

Alpha didn’t like the sound of that one bit. “So evil lurks below. I’ve seen enough to know that cursed thing doesn’t make friends.”

“Aww Sithspit,” Mad Claws growls. “I thought this’d be a grab and go. Everywhere we go man. Trouble. Nothing but trouble.”

Neither one of his crew members were off base, and Claws was certainly justified in lament. Pretty much every time they got on the ship something strange followed Hevn to wherever they landed. Nothing as a Knight had thus far been simple. For some tasks he was specifically selected for his skill set, and for many more they happened to be lucky it was Hevn who turned up. He imagined this was going to be of the lucky variety.

“Take us down to that island. Claws you’ll keep the ship cloaked, Alpha you’re coming with me, I’ll need another set of senses.” Claws looked relieved at the order and Alpha quite the opposite. The cloaked ship has no issue probing the atmosphere and making its way down to the location of the ping. Blue light floods the viewports and is cast throughout the interior of the ship where it can touch.

Hevn and Alpha equip themselves appropriately. There would be no need for a breathing apparatus or danger to Hevn from overheating. In a small clearing in the forest the giant cyborg and wolf man emerge from thin air. Most of the wildlife had fled the roar of their engines and the general disturbance of their landing. The Shistavanen turns towards Hevn with his scanner at the ready. “Yslamir boss.”

Hevn’s scowl twists tenfold. Why...oh why...did it have to be me. “Kill them all.” Hevn gestures forward towards the location of the Norris Root, giving him the clear to go ahead and annihilate any and every one of the force forsaken lizards he could find. “Quietly, mind you. I don’t expect any humans lurking out this far, but they’ll excrement blast their way straight the the authorities if they catch even a glimpse of us.” Roarshen nods as he removes the blaster from his hip, and trods ahead.

Bedrovelse holds the sheath of his katana in one hand, raised in front of him. It was humming much louder now that they were on the planet. Almost pulling him in the direction Alpha walked. He would be sure to keep a wide birth for his man to execute the reptiles while he followed up on the curiosity taking place in his hand.

[member="Tireya Syvare"]

 

[Tireya Syvare]

[member="Bedrovelse Hevn"]​

​

“Ah, my dear. The time has come. Our futures lay in the fold as the sun’s rays glisten across the crystal waters.” Valyra’s voice filled Tireya’s mind once more. Yet again, spoke in some form of a strange riddle. Speaking of time, of futures and of the sun’s rays? What was it this strange spirit was trying to get across? Why need Tireya concern herself? After all, if fate and destiny were to be believed, why fight for anything? Would our lives not be on a presculpted course that even if we tried to fetter from its charted path would inevitably pull us back? Forces unknown would ensure the visage of reality played to the whims of their desires.

“Our futures?” Tireya asked. Her voice carried with it an annoyance. For days now Valyra had been going on and on about this future of theirs. This prewritten destiny and the fate that accompanied it. Yet when approached for answers, she yet spoke more riddles. Never once being simple and direct. “You speak as if your path leads to the same as my own.”

“Does it not, my dear. You carry me with you wherever you go. And tell me . . .” Valyra paused for a moment, her words giving way to nature’s bliss. “What would the student be without a teacher? The mother without a child? The body without a mind?”

“Yet you are none of these things,” Tireya retorted to the spirit that lived within the strange doll-like figure she carried with her.

“Yes, my dear. I am more. You cannot deny it. Without me, you would have never survived this long.”

“Without you, I would have never been cast aside. Never been tossed to the wind like leaves stripped from the branches of trees with autumn’s winds. Perhaps . . .” She spoke, challenging the very words of Valyra. “Perh-”

“SILENCE! Child!” Valyra’s voice interjected ruefully as if the young witch had stricken some kind of ectoplasmic nerve. “He’s here.” Her voice trailed off in her last oration. She’d gone for defensive and aggressive fiend, to nurture and coddling mother all in a fleeting moment.

“Who’s here?”

“The man of iron and flesh, accompanied by one of wolvish respite. Quickly, my dear. Do not allow our destinies to slip from grasp as snows melt beneath the radiance of spring.”

Tireya was perplexed. There was no other way to describe it as she rose to her feet tucking her fresh harvest into a pouch along her belt. She knew not of what the spirit spoke, but it was unsettling to her. A man of iron and flesh. One of wolvish respite. But what did those words mean? Why were these two beings so important? And what did any of it have to do with here? In moments like these, Tireya honestly wished she’d left the doll where she had found it all those years ago. But there was just something about Valyra. And how quickly she’d grown an attachment to it. And this relationship that had forged between the two. Valarya had enlightened her to other ways. One both natural and unnatural. And it had been Valyra that had led her to the sword that was the pride and joy of her possessions.

 

[Bedrovelse Hevn]

Hevn kneels in the dirt before the ramp of his cloaked ship. His sword firmly planted upright next to his knee, and his other palm feeling the ground. He closes his eyes. Tremors were shaking his blade like a tuning fork, and echoing through the fabric of this world to whatever was calling it. He’d never felt the sword do such a thing. Caution of such a danger is not far from his mind, but his morbid curiosity compels him to look. He could hear nothing. See nothing. Only feel. Waves of darkness reaching out to him, to Phantasmagoria. How could this be? What could it want?

Ahead of Hevn, the trees chirp with the sound of Alpha’s blaster fire. The Ysalamir were not so easily scared off as the other wild life. They cling firmly to their trees without a care in the world. The Shistavanen strolls the woods with the biometric scanner in hand, hunting them quietly through the foliage. At only a quarter of the way towards the location of the Norris Root, the toll of gravity begins to plague him. He could feel his fur dragging him down to the ground. His panting mouth slobbering openly as the effort begins to trouble him. His progress slows considerably. Nearly an hour passes before he is halfway towards the root. Alpha takes a seat upon a log to catch his breath. The scanner goes off again, and his blaster arm raises with a growl for what felt like the hundredth time above shoulder level. His arm screams at the fatigue, but his fingers squeeze the trigger to end another one of the reptiles. The thunderous grumble of his breaths precede his words on the comm.

::Hevn man....this gravity is unreal. I’m going to take a few. So far, so clear to move.::

Whatever was moving about the woods communicating with Phantasmagoria didn’t seem to be moving far, or very fast. Hopefully it was no some legendary beast patrolling its territory and stalking them for dinner.

::Affirmative. Moving up.::

Hevn rises from the ground. He’d spent the entirety of that time waiting for any call. Any hint. Whatever he sought would not be confirmed until he saw it with his own eyes it seemed. He would find whatever curiosity lurked here. His boots stride into the forest after Alpha. He holds the sheathed blade of his katana out ahead of him as though it were a detector or some kind. He feels the ripples of it bouncing back and forth, vibrating through his grip. Normally he’d have taken small joy in abusing the dead lizards or musing over the demise of the most loathsome creature in the universe. Instead his eyes are peeled. Scanning about the trees as he makes his way slowly toward Alpha’s position.

“Where are you?” He growls into the forest, to nobody in particular.

[member="Tireya Syvare"]

 

[Tireya Syvare]

[SIZE=12pt][member="Bedrovelse Hevn"][/SIZE]​

[SIZE=12pt]

[/SIZE]​

[SIZE=12pt]There was something different stirring about here, now. The void of her connection to the ethereal power her eyes were long ago opened to by Valyra was lessening now. As though whatever was ushering forth that barrier into the unknown was slowing being forced to lift it. As though, perhaps, that supernatural power was once again calling to the young adept. And even more suspicious in fact, was that Valyra had since gone silent, leaving her to folly around in her own subconscious unhindered and unharassed by the whim of the unseen. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=12pt]Tireya’s fingers dug into the ground, gaining a crimson overtone as the [/SIZE][SIZE=12pt]norris root[/SIZE][SIZE=12pt] she harvested bled onto them, painting them. Just why she chose to harvest them wasn’t for the root’s intrinsic properties in resistance to energy and blaster fire - hell, she did not even know such technology existed as such things had yet to be developed on this primitive world she called a home. No, such things like that would be lost on her, as would it be for any other Riman should their senses lay witness to such things for they had an ignorance to just how far along technology had come outside of their little blue world. Even more so, the natural satellites that ran their orbits around their home were still very much alien to them. A great unknown. And a frontier beyond their limits. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=12pt]Instead, Tireya chose to harvest this peculiar flora for the mere fact that she was able to make a crimson dye from it. A dye she could used to canvas her face or body in a particularly tribalistic fashion. Or to dye a particular piece of clothing in such a color. For her, the root provided a means to satisfy a sense of vanity over her appearance and the island was full of it. It made it so replenishing the supply would come at little to no effort at all. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=12pt]But then there was a faint ‘tick’ in the distance - somewhere due east of her. And this tick was unlike anything she’d heard in her lifetime and so it stirred a curiosity within here. However Tireya did not allow this curiosity which stirred to go without an air of caution. Afterall, she was an outcast of her people - a people that still wished her burned upon some stake for immersing herself in what her people had forbidden. The unknown of the supernatural and this apparent ability to influence the minds of others, in addition to the environment around her had terrified those that had once accompanied and supported her. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=12pt]Her hand fell to the hilt of a blade that clung to her belt by her side. Simply resting the hand there, it gave her a sense of assurance and comfort. A bow found itself slung across her back alongside a quiver which held thirteen primitive arrows. She fastened down her satchel and slung it, too, over her shoulder before grabbing the final of her possessions. Her spear, which of late, had seen more use as a walking stick than the hunting tool it had been designed for. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=12pt]She was about to step away and toward the location where her ears had caught that all too unusual ‘tick’ sound, when the all too familiar voice of Valyra flowed into her conscience. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=12pt]“Forgetting something?” Valyra’s voice came across, completely lacking of amusement. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=12pt]Tireya’s gaze fell to the peculiar figure as it lay on the ground, realizing she had neglected to gather the totem which Vaylra possessed. Kneeling, she unfastened the satchel once more and wrapped a hand around it, in turn laying the spear on the ground while she secured it. She didn’t grant the spirit the satisfaction of a response and instead hurried to secure the pouch once again. She gathered the spear and once again stepped in the direction in which the sound had been heard.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=12pt]“You would do well to remember in the future,” Valyra hissed. “You’d be dead without me. That, you cannot deny.”[/SIZE]

 

[Bedrovelse Hevn]

Alpha gets back to work, pushing ahead and slaying the force severing lizards from Hevn’s path. Hevn warily paces. Every step measured and careful as he seeks the creature beaconing his blade. He holds it out in front of him, following the path carved by his crew mate. It seemed that whatever was lurking here was after the same thing. The direction of both his mission and the source of the disturbance were coming from the same place.

Alphas last shots fire off ahead, as Hevn approaches from behind him. The path was clear. He was safe to roam as he pleased. Alpha takes an exhausted seat on a log as Hevn strides into the clearing of Norris root. His sword was trembling as fiercely as ever and his dark cold aura felt something pierce it. Twofold.

Alarmed, and yet not so. Hevn confidently lurks through the brush as the presence gets closer. His eyes find the prize. A young woman. A native most likely. Primitive weaponry and clutching some manner of totem in her grasp. She was what the sword wanted? He was used to it voraciously hungering for blood, but not randomly. It helped him seek and destroy enemies of the battlefield. It liked to drink their blood and souls. Targeting a random girl was desperately confusing.

“Alpha! Quickly harvest the root!” Hevn shouts back into the clearing confirming the go ahead to begin. As the Shistavanen rises from his log he sees the girl too. Hevn’s call would have drawn attention to them both. The enormous wolf man wanders up behind Hevn, looking over the cyborg with glaring yellow eyes.

“A native? With a doll?” Alpha grumbles. He raises his blaster rifle to aim at her. “Take her out?”

“No.” Hevn replies cooly. This mission needed to be quiet, but who would believe one single being who claimed they were visited by monsters from the stars? Nobody. “She’s communicating with Phantasmagoria somehow. I should like to find out why.”

Hevn’s approach towards the girl is slow. He places the vibrating sword at his hip. He extends his hands in a sign of peace after disarming. He was pretty confident that any way in which the primitive could lash out, he could survive, should his greeting go south. He stops well away from her, to maintain some distance of her own undoubtably threatened disposition.

“Basic? Sith?” He asks her in an attempt to establish a dialogue.

[member="Tireya Syvare"]