Private Acolytes of Korriban

[Naniti]

"Korriban?" Lots of aspiring Sith wanted to go to Korriban. It was the birthplace of the Sith. Where the Tombs of the Great Lords resided. Full of ancient secrets and power for those worthy. And wouldn't you know it, every student thought they were just the specialist little Sith worthy of knowledge almost ten thousand years old. Naniti had once remarked to Lysander that such people thought themselves direct descendants of Exar Kun. Rushing off to Korriban thinking it was a field trip was precisely the sort of thing that exemplified that. So, him asking if she wanted to go was a bit surprising.

Part of her had wanted to say no. Would be hypocritical for her to go? The other part said Lysander had been there so it wasn't like she was declaring herself the brightest red force crystal they ever had seen. It wouldn't be bad to see what all the fuss was about. Surely half the stories had to be utter nonsense. Blown way out of proportion. Thousands of years and the place still had secrets? Tombs that hadn't been plundered?

Naniti wouldn't buy anyone claiming Sith Lords thought them sacred and not to be spoiled.

So, off they went. The Togruta checked her lightsaber along the way. A violet crystal matched her skin color, which suited her, but was it going to cause trouble on Korriban? Should she exchange it for a red one? Not to mention her hilt was banged up and scuffed. Wasn't like the best materials were offered to those that hadn't graduated or didn't have some well-off Lord backing them. If there really were Ghosts of ancient Lords, they'd just have to swallow their indignation. Like that would happen.

Their ship swept in over the Kor'ethyr Academy on Korriban once they'd entered atmosphere. Apparently it happened to be in the region of the Valley of Golg. Convenient. So there'd be no shortage of things to see on this trip.

Naniti tried to peer out a viewport as they descended. The world really was broken and barren. "Someone put a lot of their self in building this Academy," she commented aloud. "In honor of Korriban, of course." No one would do anything selfish on the soil of the Sith's place of birth, right? Place certainly looked imposing. More so than the rocky outcroppings everywhere.

"Their food any better here?" Naniti asked Lysander. Not that it mattered, but as far as comparing institutes it was a subject they could speak confidently of.

Lysander von Ascania

 

[Lysander von Ascania]

Naniti

​

The descent reminded him of why he’d first come here, years ago. He saw those familiar ridges, empty valleys.. red sand. That planet had a way of making you answer to it whether you wanted or not. It was the same place where the Sith Order first began digging its claws into him, where he stopped pretending the Mid Rim would ever remember he existed. Korriban had given him roots, a family of shadows and whispers that stretched across the Outer Rim, into Brosi where he’d settled, and beyond..

It also reminded him of how much he’d been running for a time when he stopped studying here.. from his past, from himself. That was until he met his current master, Kaila, who had forced him to stop pretending.

He leaned back a little, letting the ship’s hum vibrate through him, and for a moment allowed himself to simply watch Korriban itself. Even after all this time, it still left an impression.

Shifting in his seat, his focus eventually flickered over to Naniti during the lightsaber inspection. Convincing the Togruta to tag along also meant keeping his guard up, watching her, adjusting according for her reactions. There was no denying she had a sharp tongue, quick wit, and a certain insistence that made him.. reluctant. A little wary, too. Not that he minded entirely. Some part of him, buried under years of caution, found it.. pleasant. Complicated, but pleasant.

The blonde tilted his head slightly at her remark. “The trials were tough. More than most would be willing to suffer. But.. oddly, some good came out of it.” His green eyes drifted back to the viewport. Most saw the Sith as living in a treacherous state. How to explain he was treated better here than back on Naboo? Or that the training itself was next level, raising him beyond anything he had dared hope for there.

"You learn who matters. And you…find out just how far you can push yourself before breaking.”

He let a quiet stretch settle between them. “There’s discipline you can’t get anywhere else.” A faint shrug. “Not all of the pain left scars. Some of it left strength.”

The food question raised his brow before he ever had a chance to hide it. Out of everything Naniti could ask, she picked that. He respected it.

“Food,” he echoed. “Crucial fething topic.”

In truth, it was a serious thing, even more so in the presence of the acolyte. Calling their first shared meal mystery stew would have been generous. You couldn’t really lower the bar any further than that.

Lysander tapped his chin, thinking. “We should totally grab something from one of the street vendors along the way. Quick.. hot, and at least it won’t try to crawl off your plate.”

Already he felt the dark currents before the freighter landed, a reminder that the Force ran thick here. The ultimate destination was the Force nexus, deeper within the valley. But there were some stops along the way that could be made, observation points, ruins, the Academy, honestly just depending on how she felt about it all. As the freighter settled fully, the landing struts hissed.

The energy pressed even further in. It was not threatening, but impossible to ignore.

Moments later, he was starting down the ramp. “Welcome to Korriban." There was a note of irony in his tone. “Not much in terms of scenery, but the history will punch you straight in the face if you let it.” A hand gestured toward Kor'ethyr Academy.

 

[Naniti]

It wasn't weird to find Lysander speaking well of the training he'd gotten there. Didn't matter if it's been brutal, and perhaps even torturous. That was just what Naniti came to expect. What she'd been told to expect, and even that had been an understatement. And she couldn't deny it. Not exactly. Some of it was the student's fault for just accepting everything in front of them as the truth. Unquestioning. Simple. Nothing seemed to be that easy even if no one taught you what the undercurrent were.

Was he overselling it? Did he mean it? Naniti wasn't certain how she should feel about the way he said there were things one could only find on Korriban. "Is the same true for Desevro?" The Togruta did in fact ask that question. Did that Academy offer things this one did not? Or was she getting a lesser experience? Maybe that was the sort of thing that had Lysander worried. Most students wouldn't dare utter a question that might be interpreted as doubting authority. Thing was that wasn't why she asked, but that wouldn't matter to some Masters.

A shrug and smile accompanied Lysander's retort. Important? No. Conversation piece? Definitely. It was something they shared. Its highs, its lows. And it wasn't controversial. Not that she avoided hard topics, but it didn't hurt to have something 'safe' either.

With the ship settling down, the pair got to their feet and made for the exit. There wasn't much to see or do on the ship, and they'd have too much time to do just that again on the way back. Naniti followed her guide toward the ramp as he 'welcomed' her to the red world.

How quickly he noticed was left to Lysander's senses, but it was around the time he joked about history hitting her in the face that the Togruta stopped moving at the bottom of the ramp with her feet on the ground. The pupils of her eyes had constricted and gone unnaturally still. Eventually, whether by time or physical-and-verbal disturbance, Naniti would blink and drew in a deep breath.

"Kam tuti j'us niti?" (What were you saying?) Naniti asked in High Sith. "History," the Togruta nodded as it came back to her. "I've heard there's a lot of that here even if it doesn't have forests and massive cities. This Academy looked impressive enough for the sky, and," she looked up at the spires towering over them, "not less impressed down here either."

"Whatever you want to show me, I'm here for it." Naniti gave Lysander a nod instead of a smile. There were people already eying them, wondering why they were there. Did any of them know him? Or had he been gone long enough the students hadn't any idea? Well they were out in the open so no one was going to do something truly offensive. Accidents only happened in dark places.

Lysander von Ascania

 

[Lysander von Ascania]

Naniti
​

Lysander’s steps immediately slowed just after noticing her pause. He’d spent more time around her recently, and was slowly finding himself attuned to her movements. But even this managed to surprise him. The Force also hummed in response, that weight felt without even a need for focus. So he stood there, no need for urgency, no need for commentary. He just breathed, eyebrows furrowing, gaze shifting to the spires and streets before them.

Korriban was absorbed through both senses, and intuition.

He caught the words in High Sith next as though they were but a whisper, caught the cadence too, though his own grasp of the language was underdeveloped to say the least..

Enough time had passed to reflect over a question from earlier. Desevro. Lysander finally gave voice to it. “Desevro… it feels promising,” he admitted, eyes scanning the streets ahead once more. “Just newer.. that’s all. The methods differ, sure, but the instruction is.. precise. Of high caliber. For all the minor flaws we poke at there, I do not believe time is being wasted.”

There was a modest attempt to fall in stride next to the Togruta, unhurried, just allowing the street to open before them. Red dust swirled in the wild, accompanied by the heat of this forsaken planet. Externally, he didn’t display any discomfort though. “Studying there for me is.. partially a choice,” he confessed. “A means to continue my education and training beyond what Korriban offered. I needed the challenge, the structure, the… unexpected.” He glanced briefly at her as he spoke, emerald eyes catching the gleam of curiosity. “You will have my guidance for as long as you require it. I would like to be present, Naniti, even in those blind spots of what’s next, whatever they be.”

Fingers brushed along the edge of a wall as they passed, brushing off that damn dust as though marking the passage of time. It was every bit a habitual gesture, one she might see from him often throughout this little journey.

“There’s a Force nexus here.. and I thought it might.. help you.”

Finally, those fingers let go. “When you train, how do you gauge your own growth. Is it through control, intuition.. or instinct maybe?”

Then, a wry tilt of his head followed. “Or have you discovered anything in your own practice that surprises you? Something you didn’t expect.. in the way the Force… responds?”

​

 

[Naniti]

It was... well, it was relieving to hear Lysander thought Desevro was a suitable educational institution. The feeling was what it was, and she'd only be lying to herself if she tried to frame it as anything but relief. She had to get stronger. Smarter. Better. All things easier to say and yearn for than do. Having a solid framework to build from was important.

Her gaze slid over the sights as they walked. The towers, the sweeping arches, cut columns, and gates that gave the impression of a maw of fangs ready to crush unwelcome visitors. Then there were the people. Heads held high with a brisk pace, and wearing tended if not pristine clothing. Naniti wondered what it would be like to live there despite the heat.

The Togruta turned to look over at him at the sudden invitation. Guidance? He was offering to guide her? "I'd like that, Lysander," she replied as calmly as she could. One had to be sure they didn't look too hopeful or excited by news. Or even embarrassed. A small smile did touch her dark lips nonetheless.

It was difficult to say whether she fully understand his comment about being present in her blind spots though. In fact, the saying itself resonated on a personal level.

"Y-Yeah," Naniti responded energetically with a smile. Inwardly, she could already feel her heart racing. Just breathe, she told herself. She knew how. Deep, steady breaths in and out. Just a matter of remaining calm. "Would a Nexus help in a particular way, you think?" He thought it would help? Its ripples already crashed against her from a distance. Was it small Nexus or a large one? Part of her hoped it was large because the sheer power at this distance if it were 'small' would have terrified her at the thought of something larger.

She lifted her chin and regarded Lysander for a moment as he asked about how she measured herself. That hadn't been something she put to words before. That was unexpected. Which was good. It was good to be challenged and forced to view things she hadn't even considered. "I guess it depends on what I'm training. A lightsaber is control. Knowing how the opponent moves, and how to respond. Instinct when that isn't an option, but control is the foundation."

"The Force?" Naniti lowered her chin slightly and glanced to the side. "It doesn't surprise me." A roll of the shoulders and a sigh escaped her. "Sometimes it does. I can control it until it suddenly wants to be seen. It needs to be seen." Blue eyes lifted to regard his emerald ones. "This place?" Naniti gestured at their surroundings with a tightness around her eyes. "Screams to be seen."

"What do you feel, Lysander? Does it surprise you as well?"

Lysander von Ascania

 

[Lysander von Ascania]

Naniti
​

After catching her smile, the corner of his mouth twitched with rare softness, and cheeks nudged up. It was unstoppable. Hope.. it felt like a foreign word these days, but nonetheless, Lysander did hope the Togruta might recognize the genuine intention behind his offer. There was a bounce in his stance, a barely there lift of one shoulder, like he wanted to say more but let the smile do everything for him. “Cool. It is settled then.”

But his eyes darkened after, forced to reflect on the gravity of a topic he brought up. “It can sharpen perception, make the currents of the Force clearer.. but there is danger too. A nexus, at least from my experience, will not forgive hesitation, doubt, or overconfidence. If we step in unprepared, fear and temptation may be overwhelming. The lessons it offers are powerful… but only for those who approach them willingly..?”

Brows knitted together, a crease over the twin emeralds, considering how to frame what he already knew. Sure, these lessons had been lived.. but not articulated, and definitely never unpacked in full. Teaching, as quickly as he realized he was enjoying it, was still unfamiliar territory.

That balance between caution and clarity.. it was challenging.

“I won’t lie. A nexus can challenge anyone.. even me.” The furrow lingered for a few seconds longer. Which truths were safe to share, how could he inspire her? “I’ve walked its currents before, felt the pull, but.. explaining it is something new. Something I need to learn just as much as you might.”

An awful answer, and he knew it. So naturally, he added more.

“The Force stretches in ways we don’t always anticipate. Seeing it together… that might teach us both something.”

His visage carried that warmth of boyish honesty as his head pivoted to gauge her reaction.

Then he found himself recalling some of his old lessons. “I’ve learned that discipline without adaptability is hollow. Instinct without guidance is reckless. You.. you’ve already begun to thread those together.”

Fingers flexed like they were ready to test Korriban’s air. “It does. Not in the way one might expect. The Force here… it has a clarity, a vibrancy, almost like it’s daring you to notice it. It demands engagement.” A trace of wry admiration. “I think you’re right. It wants to be seen, and it will be.. if you let it.”

After a slow exhale, his gaze swept over the street again. “No matter how far I go, or how long I stay away, it continues calling to me. There’s a rhythm here I can’t seem to forget.”

Amid the rising spires and red dust, another familiar structure came into view.. a temple. Lysander felt the pull of the force there. Subtler than the nexus, but still like a heartbeat beneath the planet.

“If you want, we could see it. Just a peek. The temple ahead.. its presence is.. grounding, a reminder of what lies ahead before we reach the nexus. Might give us a better sense of the currents without being overwhelming.”

A hand gestured toward the dark silhouette. “Only if you want to, Naniti. It’s.. different. But it makes sense to me, to see the beginnings before diving any deeper.”

 

[Naniti]

Sharpen perception of the Force? That sounded useful and dangerous. Everything Lysander said only seemed to emphasize that all the more. And obviously the more experienced man struggled to articulate the true nature, and perils of exploring something so invaluable. Which made sense. It didn't answer any questions, but something so powerful and nebulous would be difficult to put into words. It was just something she'd have to experience to truly understand. Like so much else in life.

Naniti crossed her arms and cast her eyes down and then back up as she tried to conceptualize what a Nexus was. "I'm sure we will. I just-- Just be prepared. If it's as strong as you say, there's no telling what might happen." Maybe that'd sound odd coming from her, echoing his own sentiments, but there was a reason for it. One she too had difficulty articulating.

As evidenced by Lysander addressing her comments about the Force's desire to be seen. "It does," the Togruta acknowledged with a nod. It certainly would be seen if she let it. Though it was interesting to hear Lysander describe the Nexus being a constant temptation. It affected other people like that?

Her brow rose as the invitation to visit the temple was offered. "Yes." Both hands spread out to the side palms up. "We've come this far, let's see all of it." Different, huh? Well a Nexus was different and might be overwhelming, and they planned on going there. So why not stop by somewhere milder and probably storied in some fashion. Anything that wasn't barren rock on this planet probably had a story to it -- a reason it existed, a purpose behind it, a meaning. Things to be witnessed as their creators intended.

"Why just a peek?" she asked with a lean in his direction. Did the temple not allow visitors inside or something? That'd kind of curtail the whole experience wouldn't it? Well, whatever, they were there so they should go.

Lysander von Ascania

 

[Lysander von Ascania]

Naniti
​

Lysander believed himself to have mastered the art of feigning indifference in the face of the Force.. but this time it was a delicate dance, for the consequences could reach beyond himself. With his head down, he trudged through the shifting red dust, hands casually tucked behind his back.

He stepped forward, letting the temple’s dark silhouette dominate the horizon. The spires and carved stone seemed to pulse with the planet's deep rhythm, shadows sliding across the steps. “Yeah, temple first,” he repeated, with that familiar edge of amusement that never seemed to leave him.

From the rapport they’d built thus far, it was safe to say they both enjoyed their indulgence. So perhaps it made more sense for them to approach everything the same way here on Korriban.

Inwardly, he was already smirking.

“This,” he began, gesturing toward the dark entryway with a smooth flick of his wrist, “is the appetizer. A place to taste the currents, feel them without getting knocked off your feet.”

He leaned slightly toward her in return. “Think of it like.. we’re sampling a few small plates before the main course. The Nexus..well, that’s the full feast Just like on Jutrand. Rich, maybe even a little dangerous if you bite off more than you can chew. But here.. here, you get a flavor, a hint of what’s to come!”

Those words would hang for a beat, and naturally he glanced over for her reaction. Then he offered a small shrug, as if to punctuate the metaphor, trying his best to sell it. “And, of course,” he added, “I know we both appreciate a solid meal.. so I figured we could start slow. Build up an appetite before diving into the really intense stuff.”

He paused at the temple entrance, glancing over his shoulder with a raised brow. “After you, of course. Don’t want to steal the first experience from you.” His head tilted slightly, letting his smile do some of the work words couldn’t. It was almost apologetic.

Maybe it’s just his modest attempt at lightening the mood. The Nexus wouldn’t leave room for levity, that was for sure.

​

 

[Naniti]

One of Naniti's hands lifted to rub her arm as they moved deeper into the Academy grounds despite the heat. Soon enough they'd stand before the entrance to the temple with Lysander describing as an appetizer. The Togruta didn't even give him a dubious look at the food metaphor. Her eyes were directed upward with a slight parting to her lips.

When Lysander leaned in, his companion's eyes managed to break away from the face of the building to look over at him. "I've always wondered what the Force tasted like," Naniti quipped, but with a slight unsteadiness to her voice. The Nexus was a feast compared to the thing before her being a mere sample. Why did she feel apprehensive then standing there?

A soft laugh followed Lysander saying they both enjoyed a meal. "Yeah, well, a Togruta's gotta eat." As a carnivorous species it was important for a growing woman to have solid meals. "But if you give me too many small plates I won't have room for dessert."

"How courteous," Naniti replied with a smirk to Lysander offering her to go first. Mister etiquette here.

Her first step was slow with her eyes peeling away from Lysander's almost apologetic features to look where she was going. As she crossed the threshold, however, the careful step that seemed to test the space ahead quickened. Her shoulders relaxed into the stiff pose of a trained fighter rather than tense from expectation. Instantly the High Sith spilled from her lips with a fluidity of a native speaker, "Ri wodsasi wasia iw wodsasyuha waria nindz tuti nurmuqurmi. Warji ri arsia dihjir iroi. Ayatsir anim tatki an harahûhada iaysahiw iw ri arqakstirsi. Mis shiyi a shuta arsia Tsitira Acrilla ikiurin diâ Nu norit ri shukûâ ir doziuris an titji jiso sitmi is drasasja--" (The subterranean network of tunnels won't be defenseless. Send the scouts first. Monitor them closely to minimize casualties of the infiltrators. We have an hour before Darth Acrilla arrives and I want our people in position to keep his horde from claiming--) Her hand waved off to the side or swept before her as she spoke aloud. Now and again her eyes looked to her left whether anyone was there or not.

Whether by physical interruption, or after several seconds of strolling down the center of the chamber, Naniti's forward progress slowed. The last step caused her to rock and sway as though dizzy and unsure of her own fotting even for just a second. A hand rose to her forehead with a soft moan. "Did we bring enough...?" The Togruta blinked and forced herself to her full height to look around as the Dark Side of the Force ebbed and flowed through the hall. Currents of power that permeated the walls, the ceiling, the floor... There were even vague shapes among those currents. Almost humanoid. "Lysander?"

Lysander von Ascania

 

[Lysander von Ascania]

Naniti
​

A spark of amusement danced across his countenance. The world outside the temple, the heat, the dust, the shifting sands, all seemed to fade into a soft blue. The ripple in the currents of the Force had him shifting between hesitant, curious, and always, undeniably present. Lysander's lips quirked in a way that was appreciative, and her comment breathed life into the laugh that broke free from him after.

“A Togruta who talks about dessert before the main course,” he said, shaking his head slightly, “I admire your ambition.”

It was then he truly felt it, the awakening of his spirit, like a breeze weaving beneath his skin, a vibration that brushed against every nerve ending. And without hesitation, he yielded to that silent song, aligning himself.. shadow to shadow, rhythm to rhythm.

At first, he stayed a few paces behind. In ways that he would not feel elsewhere, he could almost observe and mark the flow of energy that accompanied his companions' words and gestures, how it bent around her. Lysander then inhaled slowly, drawing that very presence into himself.. meticulously cataloging it, understanding it.. not to seize command, but to be prepared.. a hand poised to guide should the tide potentially turn against either of them.

He stepped forward, each step like a whispered verse, as Naniti's voice traced his name. "The temple remembers every presence. Every intention, every fear. Let it see you clearly.. but don't hide from it."

When his voice flowed, it was untouched by judgement. "Take your time. There's no shame in moving with caution. Let it guide you, but do not allow it to dictate your pace.."

And in the quiet spaces between syllables, his mind stretched outward with tendrils of the dark, exploring those invisible lines along the edges of the temple, charting the borders, attuning himself further to the environment.

With the sweep of a hand, he beckoned toward an alcove nestled in one the chamber's corners. "Follow me," he murmured. Lysander melted into the embrace of gathering shadows, ghostly fingers brushing against exposed skin.

There, he halted, surrendering to the moment, descending to his knees with grace. “It’s been some time since I’ve meditated here.” The blonde surveyed the sacred geometry of the space. “Sit, if you wish. Let the temple speak to you. I’ll be here."

 

[Naniti]

Hide from it? Where would she go? Naniti felt the urge to grab a lightsaber and defend herself with the way the Force circled her. It felt like a predator that stalked in prey in search of an opening to strike. Or perhaps hungry to wield her instead of her wielding it. Whatever it was, it gnawed at her with a sense of palpable dread.

The Togruta turned her head with her eyes sliding over the same surfaces Lysander sought to map in his own mind. She heard what he said, but wasn't sold on letting it guide her. Not in the way most meant. If anything, she took the opportunity to focus on her breathing again. Calm. Steady. Measured. Controlled. With that in hand, she saw what might be called a path ahead -- or guidance as most spoke of it.

As it turned out, the path led to the alcove Lysander had gestured toward. "On your six," she replied quietly with a slight inflection of being distracted by the Dark Side that strongly permeated the hall. Her steps would be only two behind his own. Didn't matter if there was a way through and Lysander seemed at ease in the place -- enough not to be concerned, anyway -- Naniti wouldn't let it creep up on her thinking her oblivious.

Once they arrived, Naniti paused before the shadows. Her blue eyes looked up and to the right, then up and to the left. Right. A Sith Meditation alcove. A place placed or designed to concentrate the energy for one of their kind to bask in it; to soak up the raw power and make it their own. With an exhale, she stepped forward with a slight bent at the waist to keep her head low. Once she neared Lysander, the Togruta woman knelt down beside him slowly despite the sensation of the darkness extending out toward her.

Let the temple speak to her? Perhaps, should she...? Lysander spoke of being allies. Perhaps what some would call 'friends.' It remain difficult to reconcile that with teachings not to trust others, however. They came from different roots. Different origins. Habits, as they said, were hard to break.

Naniti let her eyes close despite the haunting sense of peril all around them.

"Isatri. Ri waria isatri. Tizn ir ri draki. Armonsi. Armonsi!" (Eternal. Our will everlasting. Just within our grasp. Listen. Listen!) the High Sith returned.

Only a moment later, however, her voice changed and the words were in modern Sith, "Diena Wo Hama ir Umjak Gti. Tave vodsasyuha kelias jura. Kair zodis kia tave kata iv Katedij oim kaj. Skautas prasasja kia girdeti zuca tollis is, kad niekas zinot luai stai nuo nurqare simtine. Kia minti tave irasa galez buti tiesa, ir Graush ai Ztalvtesaga galez buti is re raka. Kaxai mes sith zhol mes valia--" (Day One Hundred and Eighty Three. The tunnels run deep. Some say to the heart of Korriban itself. Scouts claim to hear voices further in, but nothing has lived here for countless centuries. To think the legends might be true, and Graush's Folly might be in our hands. Once we perfect it we will --)

A voice only Naniti could hear hissed, J'us run unsenr zemas kia buti stai. Mirtis asarji visa anas dalyva. Tutzala. Alkis! (You are not meant to be here. Death awaits all that enter. Oblivion. Hungers!) Naniti's eyes snapped open as she sucked in a deep breath and leaned back. Her blue eyes shifted side to side in search of something that wasn't visually there. A presence that'd leaped for her with its claws spread wide open to rend flesh from bone.

The Togruta snorted as she leaned forward to sit upright again. "What is it the temple tells you, Lysander?" she asked, either unaware of what she had said or just refusing to acknowledge it.

Lysander von Ascania

 

[Lysander von Ascania]

Naniti
​

Both hands settled upon his knees, while Lysander's spine stiffened, bracing against the cruel tide pressing in from every side. It clawed at his psyche, swirling around the fragile thread he clung to. These currents passed over him like a biting wind, whispering, prodding, and forever hungry.

And beneath that veneer of calm so often worn lay a scrape of helplessness. His eyes narrowed, lids drifting halfway closed, as the visions seeped into the chambers like ink bleeding through parchment. They came in waves.. banners unfurling in blood red and black, entwined with echoes from the two wars he'd endured under them. The Galactic Kaggath, Ukatis, Naboo.. he too would wrestle with those haunting phantoms. A glance was flicked to Naniti as her voice wove itself into the High Sith chant.. fluid, precise.. almost like a dark melody.

He even clung to the sound, striving to grasp its meaning, though it would just be another reminder. There were gaps in mastery that were impossible to ignore. Whether it be fascination, or that ting of inadequacy, truly a myriad of emotions, it all folded into a gaze which refused to break. Memories pressed inward, though they remained shallow ripples on an endless sea. From afar he saw a longing to reach out once more to his former master; the patter of rain on Naboo, the agony of his shattered body on the edge of death during the Galactic Kaggath, and his father’s final breath on Ukatis.

One hand shifted, flexing against his thigh, while the other brushed against the floor. Fingers splayed, reminding himself where he was.. still present, no matter how hard the temple tried to devour him.

His chest felt tighter now. Somewhere in the moment, when foreign words continued spilling from the Togruta’s lips, he saw images of himself being mocked by instructors at the academy, shamed for poor fluency.

Lysander always walked that knife’s edge.. trying to master the Dark instead of being consumed by it.

In the recesses of his mind, he witnessed himself in shadow.. a silhouette swallowed by the Dark. The currents wrapped around him, whispering for him to submit fully.

Voices hissed.

You will kneel. You will belong.

He didn’t know when.. but he could feel the inevitability of it.

Submission wasn’t defeat.. it was part of the path.

His eyes clouded, green irises shadowed.

"What is it the temple tells you, Lysander?"

Through the murk, it cut, reaching some corner of him that knew what it was like to be seen, instead of summoned. His own breath dragged in like someone who’d been underwater.

“I..” He started, but stopped. The Dark hadn’t left; it only waited.

He almost told her. He wanted to.. but how did one explain the way the past bled? How could he possibly give shape to the wars, the voices, his sister’s shadow.. without letting them own him again?

The smile that followed was one well-rehearsed, a mask out of habit.

“The usual,” he murmured. “The temple likes to remind me of what it already knows.”

Easier to avoid elaboration, than lie outright..

His gaze shifted from the Acolyte to the floor, then back again, desperately trying to force composure.

“Your command of it.. the old tongue..” The words left him quieter now. “I could barely follow. My understanding of it is rusty, to put it kindly.”

His chest lifted just enough to lean forward a fraction. "Enough about my failings.. tell me, what did you hear.. or see?"

 

[Naniti]

The Togruta grunted. "The Force knows everything. If you know where to look." Thankfully, it was insanely difficult to peel back the facade of reality to glean whatever you wished about the past, present, or future. Some people spoke of certain abilities being difficult. Peering through the keyhole of existence? Excruciatingly difficult and rare. For good reason. "Perhaps, when they aren't listen..." she trailed off leaving the invitation unspoken.

Her blue eyes slid over to him, but she didn't look at him directly. The hands of the dark still lay upon her shoulders as she knelt there.

"Old tongue?" Naniti managed to sit up a little straighter with renewed focus to her eyes, the observation distracting her from the darkness. "What..." The Togruta bit her tongue and averted her eyes for a moment. "It isn't something a lot of people bother to learn," she added in an effort to change the topic. "But its instrumental if you study holocrons." That wasn't entirely true. You could learn from a holocron even if you didn't understand the words. The darkness that crept and slithered from it would grasp at and snare those that listened to its corrupt teachings for too long. Though Naniti believed you wouldn't learn as much as if you understood what was being said. Not that any Master had allowed her to touch something so sacred.

"I saw," the young Sith paused as she contemplated the vision, "a warning. Death to those that seek to escape its grasp." Naniti barked a laugh. "You asked me to listen to the temple, and it seems it sought to speak plainly to me not to trouble the dead. Not that anyone ever listens." She managed to smirk even as the dark swirled about them. There was a slight shake to her eyes, however, as visages distracted her, and she sought to focus on Lysander all the harder.

Lysander von Ascania

 

[Lysander von Ascania]

Naniti
​

Before much longer he shifted until both legs folded beneath him in a lotus stance, perhaps even an attempt to disguise some of his unease. The temple’s chill continued to bite through the fabric of his attire as palms came to rest lightly upon his knees once more. When her words began drifting into the chamber, Lysander heard more than just her voice.. the walls around them seemed to answer, murmuring in echoes that pressed against his mind.

The Force knows everything. If you know where to look.

He exhaled through his nose, a tremor breaking the surface. Control, always control.. it was a mask he wore as naturally as breathing, but the pulse beneath dared to throb like an old wound.

Does it care? A question that had no answer.

“Maybe the danger isn’t in seeing… but in allowing yourself to believe you’ve mastered it.”

High Sith, holocrons, forbidden knowledge.. yeah, he wasn’t entirely convinced by her description. Something in the way she skirted over the deeper implications left a fraction of doubt at the edges of his mind. But there was too much else pressing in to linger on that. Lysander had never seen a holocron himself, only heard the stories, those whispers from both masters and apprentices alike. Apparently they were like little cubes of power and knowledge that could either enlighten or consume.

But even in rumor.. the very idea did stir another spark of curiosity.

“Curious.”

As he saw it, the shadows remembered who reached and didn’t forget easily.

His mouth twitched with wry acknowledgement at her laugh, though, it wasn’t humor so much as recognition.. an understanding of how her spirit was even here in a place like this.

“Some.. prefer to speak to the dead, rather than listen to the living.”

But then he finally gave in, the corner of his mouth lifting again as green embers in the dark flicked back to her. In a way that few understood, there was an odd warmth at seeing someone defy the temple’s oppressive pull.

“Be careful, even laughter has its cost here.”

Leaning forward, his chest lifted a fraction. “Not everyone listens. And fewer still hear without flinching. It could be the warning is for those who still think they can outrun it.. or refuse to understand its patience?”

Even if his vocabulary in the Sith’s old tongue was limited, it wouldn’t stop him from reciting what he did know and understand, the Sith Code. Each phrase seemed to coil along his spine, threading into his nerves, brushing against memory..

.. as much as belief.

From there, a deeper echo rose from within. The Tenets of Wonosa. The philosophy of freedom from all limitations kindling a spark of longing. Fire and control.. restraint and defiance.. all wrapped in promises of self-determination. Then, there was the memory of Kerstas, their belief in revenge.. and so the flame of vengeance, teased the edges of his mind. It quickly reminded him of the power he may wield.. and the price he might pay. That alone pulled at him, back to Alvaria, Malum’s home, left in ruin by other doctrines of the Sith Order. That memory was still painful, a wound not so easily forgotten.

Lysander murmured fragments of the prayers under his breath as the words scratched at his throat.

Time passed, and he allowed a long exhale to escape. Some of the tension ebbed, but it didn’t make the temple any less observant. They had come to this place for a reason, and it only made sense that he would finish that much.. honor the space and the ritual..

Slowly, his head pivoted to Naniti, searching for her reaction, and her presence too.

Doctrine was a cage to some, a ladder to others..

“So, Togruta.. what do you believe in when no one else is watching?”

 

[Naniti]

Mastered it? If she'd mastered it things would -- she hoped -- be easier. Skilled is what she'd call herself. Which being entirely biased on the matter, and without any frame of reference, might be a gross overestimate; but her's was the only opinion on the matter.

Speak to the dead? Naniti examined Lysander uncertain what he meant. Voices in the Force? Was it the dead? Was it the Force itself? She'd read several philosophical debates on that matter. What was the nature of existence? Some lightweight reading between bouts with a lightsaber or education in how to quickly dispatch one's enemy. Perhaps, at some point, Lysander would learn why she read such weighty things.

As for the answer... Well, the answer was 'it depends.' Ironically there was a certain amount of faith one had to possess wielding the Force. Didn't matter if you were Sith or not. Finding someone to discuss that was challenging. What did it matter so long as you got stronger, right? How could you decide what mattered if you didn't understand its nature? Not exactly mess hall-level conversation. Lysander sounded... interested though.

After all, he seemed interested in the warning. Though Lysander seemed to think it was for those that did not take the Valley seriously. Perhaps he was right. Though there were legends concerning the Valley related to death. She just hoped the warning wasn't specifically for the two of them.

Silence reigned except when broken by Lysander's recitations. The Sith Code was audible. Prayers less so. The Togruta closed her eyes and sought to ward off the horrors that lurked in the dark while drawing in the power brought along those abyssal currents. Her hands lay atop her thighs to keep them still as the formless tips of claws passed just shy of her flesh. Was it defiance? The Togruta's heart rate fought to run away from her, but she focused on her breathing to control it. Whispers of betrayal and suffering plagued her efforts to plumb the depths of the power there. It was easier to believe if she didn't move the monsters wouldn't get her.

Naniti's lips and brow twitched as she knelt there, but not in time with Lysander's words necessarily. Just the dark trying to sink its claws into her to drive her mad. With the way her nerves jittered it wasn't doing a bad job of it either.

"Myself," she replied without hesitation. Her blue eyes slid open and slide to the side to regard Lysander. "Because in the end that's all I can be certain of; if that fails, I am lost." What did that mean for her beliefs? Her values? Did Lysander want to dig that deep? On what topic? Naniti thought to give him the broad answer and see what he wanted to know without babbling like a fool.

"Should I expect the Valley to be even stronger than this?"

Lysander von Ascania

 

[Lysander von Ascania]

Naniti
​

Lysander’s brows drew together, enough to go unnoticed if one weren’t watching closely. A quiet certainty in the midst of uncertainty.. it stirred something in him, something almost reflective, almost reverent? It was a side of him always kept guarded, but even here, he didn’t feel embarrassed or wary about it.

A half smile flashed, one that didn’t carry the arrogance or bravado many expected. “Well, I’ve always had a talent for carrying more than I should. Maybe this… this sense of something to hold onto is what stops it from falling over entirely.” He leaned back just a fraction. “Something worth carrying beyond my own weight, I guess.”

That barely scratched the surface, and she didn’t seem inclined to go deeper.

He’d entertain it a beat longer though. A touch of curiosity softened his expression.. “Do you ever find it.. grounding, to have something that remains, even when the rest drifts? Or is it more so you prefer the unknown to keep you.. sharp?”

In a place like the temple, silence had teeth. It pressed against Lysander’s skin, curled into the spaces between breaths.. made every thought feel a little louder than it should. It was definitely easier to just fill it.

“Yes,” Lysander said at last, like he didn’t want to disturb the oppressive weight settling over the temple. “It will be considerably stronger.”

The floor leached warmth from him, but he didn’t mind..strangely, it helped him think. “I’ve been close enough to feel it scrape at the edges, you could say.”

Another short breath, part sigh, part laugh, part nerves. “We don’t have to go right away. There’s no prize for rushing into something hungry for us.” The teen held her gaze a shade too long, drawn by the way the temple’s shadows carved her features into something almost.. unreal.

A knowing slant graced his mouth. “And speaking of…” Fingers curled loosely against his knee. “If we die, at least it won’t be on an empty stomach.”

He let that thought hang a moment, and, of course, he knew he wasn’t being entirely noble about it. Maybe he had been thinking about food the whole time.

 

[Naniti]

Naniti looked over at Lysander as he spoke of having something other than himself to hold onto. She understood the concept. A cause. A purpose. A vision. Whatever someone called it it was higher than themselves and could carry you through dark times. "I was honest the first time we met, Lysander. The Machine. I've seen it. I've seen it fail. If there's something outside of myself I strive toward it's understanding It. And I heard what you said last time; asking what it would mean if it turned out to be a delusion. That's true for any belief, isn't it? The risk of it all being nothing but a fantasy, quickly shattered and leaving nothing." The Togruta shrugged slightly. "That's what this temple wants."

"I don't just feel it. I hear it. I see it. All the power that fed into the well-spring of this place that chooses to focus it on people like us... it wants to rob us of everything we brought with us. To devour it and leave us empty vessels." Why? For what purpose? Was someone paying her to be a Nexus' therapist? Her services weren't cheap, and it would be an exhaustive subject to study.

A grunt. "I'd like something... tangible to hold on to, Lysander," Naniti got around to answering his question directly. "Something I can... interact with and understand sooner than later. Perhaps that guides me toward a better future -- if I'm so lucky." Even she wasn't invincible. Much as she relied on herself, it would be nice to have a second opinion or something relatively objective to cling to. A lighthouse when tossed on dark waters.

Then Lysander affirmed the actual Nexus would be worst. Naniti merely nodded.

"Lysander," she broke the silence a moment after a wan smirk accompanied his quip about food, "you should know..." Her voice trailed off and her eyes narrowed. A shaky breath passed between her lips as the darkness whispered of a threat if she said more. "I... my past... I see the world differently than most. And I don't know what that'll mean if we go 'all the way.' For good or ill." Another paused. "Maybe we'll learn something new because of it." A shadow of a smile sought to rose despite the oppressive aura about them.

Lysander von Ascania

 

[Lysander von Ascania]

Naniti
​

The Machine.. he thought, still uncertain what she truly meant by it all, and wondered if this temple, this crucible, was the right moment to pry. He remembered the first time she’d mentioned it, back when they first met, but his mind had been elsewhere then.. tangled in the discipline of training and unsure where the acolyte’s intentions truly lay.

Lysander found more than one quiet thought stirring through him. How rare it was, to hear someone else’s assessment of risk and faith. The temple’s weight pressed against his spine as he leaned back fractionally. “It’s dangerous to look for something beyond yourself, to carry a belief that might be nothing but ash in your hands.. maybe it’s exactly the kind of thing this place hungers for too.”

Along the floor he could see the rise of dust in the corners of the chamber, whispers in the air that made the darkness almost.. tactile. Even so, it didn’t prevent a small quirk of amusement, even as he could feel it, that tightening in his chest, the pulse of blood echoing in the ears.. as if Korriban’s temple was leaning in.. listening.

“But.. to risk nothing is to feel nothing at all. Maybe it’s why you came here, or maybe that's why I haven’t left.”

He did understand striving toward it, even if smoke was beneath the fingers, even if the ground gave away.

Naniti’s words sank into him.. not like the shadows pressing against the walls around them, but something quieter, an invitation he hadn’t quite expected. The whispers of wind through the chamber brushed his cheek, like a reminder that this was real, that every gesture, every word mattered. So, instead of letting one of his usual deflecting quips fly free, he held her eyes, letting the hush carry a gentle grace across the distance, bridging them without words.

The blonde drew in a slow breath, steadying something inside himself first. “You’re not alone.. not while I’m here.”

That comfortable rhythm he had a way of slipping into became harder to hold onto. His posture went still.. not rigid.. but attentive, the kind he only offered when something mattered. The darkness brushed along his senses like a ghostly hand, but he didn’t look away.

A part of him, the one that had learned far too recently how to guard every piece of himself, almost reached out. Another part simply listened.

“Naniti..” he breathed, the name leaving his lips a soft exhale. “Whatever you are. Whatever you’ve seen.. I’m not afraid of it.”

It wasn’t grand or poetic.. but he hoped it carried enough warmth to repel everything curling around them.

“We’ll learn it together.”

He pushed himself up slowly, rising to his full height with the same grace he carried into every duel. He didn’t make a move for the exit, and neither did he offer a hand.

“Yeah.. I think that’s enough for now.”

But how he stood, should’ve made the intention clear.. without her, he was bound to stay.

“Come on. Let’s get outside and.. strategize.”

 

[Naniti]

Trust? Here? The temple doubted such sentiments. It didn't believe in such qualities in others. Run. Flee. Hide. Fight. Claw. Tear. Bite. Never let someone close. Never show your back to them, or a lightsaber would be plunged into it. Everything her Masters had taught her was whispered in her ear. A coaxing voice designed to lure one into the consuming embrace of the void.

The Togruta managed to nod at Lysander's words, however. Not alone. That sounded nice. Could she trust him? The Temple begged the question. Naniti hadn't seen or felt the man betray or even speak ill to her. No actions to suggest he would. A risk...

A small smile. A soft snort. "I'm still just a Togruta, but thanks." Whatever she'd seen? Naniti wasn't certain about that. But here and now wasn't the time for it. The Temple had ears. A will that didn't need to be fed.

Blue eyes rose to follow Lysander's rise. "Well, not everything I've seen is bad."

A slow breath was drawn in before she fought to rock forward and then push up from the floor with just her legs. "Right." Enough temptation to just sit there forever and let everything go. If you emptied yourself you became a vessel for even greater, dark power or so the sweet voice whispered in ways other than words.

Naniti pivoted and started to leave the alcove, but she did check over her shoulder to make sure Lysander was following. What was it, she wondered, that lured him to place? What did he strive toward? Someday she'd ask him, but not in the temple.

"Strategize? How to delve into a Valley of ancient power? How to find new strength without succumbing to the visions or the living dead?" Naniti chuckled to herself. "I wouldn't mind being one of those storied Acolytes that found an Ancient Master's lightsaber. Flashy." Not at all enlightening, but it made people ooh and ahh. An amusing daydream.

Lysander von Ascania

 

[Lysander von Ascania]

Naniti
​

The temple’s alcove began to slide behind the two like a curtain. A scrape of boots, the temple’s sigh, the whispers of air, all if it pressed in one final time. Though his body might’ve been tighter than an instrument's string, at least he appeared at ease. Just another well-rehearsed skill.

“I know we can’t fully prepare for it. Doesn’t mean we can’t try, even if only in our minds. Keep an eye on the dangers, respect them.. but don’t let them hold us back.”

For a moment he tried to picture the saber she spoke of, imagining it lying in some tomb covered in red dust. Could it tempt someone like her? Or him?

Lysander’s lips tilted a smirk.. almost hidden, almost private. “I’d settle for less flashy.” He let his voice thread between them like a tether as they drew closer to the entrance.

In the depths of his mind, the memory of the curved hilt surfaced, conjuring something from back on Coruscant, when the world beyond Ukatis was still young and full of promise. The same weapon he held now, its shape crafted by Cora's, should have brought a smile. But it did not.

“How do you feel about your current lightsaber?” The words were quiet.

The way the Academy bestowed the weapons upon them during their trials always struck Lysander as peculiar. The process cold and efficient, but left no room for individuality. Of course, given the ruthless, unforgiving nature of Sith trials, he imagined most were content to accept whatever weapon was gifted to them. But Lysander had always been ritual coded down to his very core. His only real complaint was that they lacked the intimacy of creation, the way one's weapon could carry a piece of the wielder.

Stepping out of the temple, they were greeted by the harsh Korriban heat. The sun dared to scorch his skin, so he turned slighly, shading his eyes with a hand. From this angle he could see her clearly. “What are you in the mood for? Food, training, or straight for the Nexus?”

All three had their own charm.

​