Private Acolytes of Korriban

[Naniti]

Naniti nodded. She wasn't sure how to describe it either. What it was. Who made it. She knew nothing and if it were real then that frightened her. How was she supposed to do anything about it's collapse if she didn't even understand what it was. Or where. "Calladene," she said as she looked into his eyes. "Whatever we can find about what happened. It has something to do with it, I know it. But I couldn't read the report itself; only enough to get a sense that they'd seen it. Part of it. But everything about what happened is classified." At least a mere Acolyte wasn't getting her hands on it.

"Not the sort of tools I need right now though," she sighed. Not that she was disappointed in what he'd said, merely frustrated at how little of the vision she could grasp. "But, thanks."

The furrow in her brow lightened as Lysander spoke of the Nexus ahead once more. Better to focus on the immediate danger than the nebulous one out reach. It sounded like anything was possible with such concentration of the Force. How did someone... shape it? Guide it? Or did it decide for them and they just made sense of it all afterward? Maybe she should stop wondering how things worked, but it was a habit.

Lysander was surprising responsible and concerned for the fate of those potentially around or beneath him. Naniti wondered if those sheltered by his concern returned the favor? Did she? Honestly, she did like being around him. The young man was pleasant to be around, and seemed inclined to offer her opportunities she might not have on her own. Hard not to favor someone like that. Maybe... Well, maybe Naniti would have to help keep the knives out of his back.

"Are you certain you should?" The Togruta's blue eyes watched him as they moved. "We all have our demons, but they remind us of mistakes that shouldn't be repeated." What he'd gone through she didn't know, but she could appreciate his sentiment.

Then the ritual itself. That strange curiosity he'd mentioned earlier. Naniti squinted at its description. "Seriously? Who put that at the entrance?" So much for spike pits or ravenous beasts.

The Togruta's eyes seemed to have grown brighter as they stood before the entrance. A slight twitch to one corner of her lips followed. Then her gaze pivoted over to Lysander again. "I can conjure lightning, so guess that's that. I've read manuscripts on alchemy and 'magick' but not a lot of tutors on those subjects for someone like me." If he was offering a choice it sounded like he knew both? They weren't that different in age, but obviously he'd lived a charmed life. Perhaps a dangerous and sorrow filled one, but charmed. "What about you?" Might be a hell of thing to ask now if they both could only do lightning, but she had a thought about that if it came to it.

Lysander von Ascania

 

[Lysander von Ascania]

Naniti ​

Lysander understood the meaning behind her words. Caution, wisdom.. concern? And he knew she was right, too. His mind threatened to race, memory of every choice, every road he’s taken since leaving the Mid Rim. Every failure now stitched into his bones. The voice that was urging him to erase everything was a fire he couldn’t put out. Every promise of power carried pain. He knew it was never meant to be easy.. it was meant to burn.

His gaze dropped to the ground beneath his boots, the stones and crimson dust. Lips parted at last, giving voice to a confession. “I have to.” Eyes lifted to hers, allowing them to linger on the blue.. searching for some spark of understanding.

“It’s something I must see through.. even if it leaves me.. hollow." A small curve appeared on his face.

He traced the massive orb before them. Carved into its surface were ancient Sith runes. “I’ll take care of the fire.. my skills should suffice for what the ritual requires.” Fingers itched, the anticipation of channeling pyrokinesis stirring through his being. The idea of conjuring flames wasn’t new, but it was always different when they were meant to serve something so unforgiving.

Most of their training had been with sabers.. forms, strikes.. but he still found himself surprised to hear she knew how to conjure lightning, a welcomed one, of course.

With a slow, grounding exhale, his awareness swept over the orb again. “It has to blot out the sun.” He lifted a hand, fingers weaving a line through the air like he was measuring the horizon. “The flames need to ignite every rune etched into the surface. Only then.. your lightning hitting it at the right moment creates the eclipse. That eclipse.. that’s what will open the Nexus.”

Those who knew him would have recognized the signs.. the twitch at his mouth, the gleam in his eyes. Pride, yes.. but threaded with a thrill, that pulse of excitement at a challenge ahead. That spark.. it had been with him since his earliest days on Ukatis.

“Then it’s both of us. It’s going to be precise. Fire, lightning.. the eclipse. The timing has to be perfect."

Patience, calculation.. and a little madness all in one. But not impossible.

A hint of dry amusement threaded his wirds next. “And.. I guess we’ll find out who’s better at controlling a little elemental chaos.”

Air hissed from his nostrils. Well, no point in overthinking it. Taking another step forward, his fingers curled as if preparing themselves for a physical grip. The stone was far larger than it appeared from a distance. The strain of lifting it pulled at his shoulders and biceps. Sweat beaded along his temple, trickling down the side of his neck.

“By the blood of Graush and the shadow of Chwuqmidwanottoi. Let the seventh moon rise, and let the maw open.”

An inch at a time, it moved, the air around them buzzing with Force energy. Muscles coiled, his jaw clenched, brow furrowed. Every fiber was burning, teeth clenching. “I can’t do this alone. I need your help.”

 

[Naniti]

Naniti blinked and tilted her head a fraction to the side as she stared at Lysander. "We all got things we have to do too." A ghost of a smile graced her lips. It didn't make sense. Didn't sound healthy. But as someone with a crazy vision in her head it was difficult to even be hypocritical in that moment. If it was something he felt he had to do then that was that. "Maybe you don't have to do it alone though." Would it help to have someone by his side? Could they avoid the worst fate? Who knew. The future was always in motion, but she'd try her best.

His attention turned toward the orb next, which drew her gaze. With a pinched brow, Naniti wondered who designed such a ritual the more Lysander described it. Two people had to lift an orb to blot out the sun? That alone took a level of trust between partners. Then there was fire, and lightning as the eclipse reaches its totality. Certainly not a lock someone was getting through by chance.

"Perfect." Something they hadn't practiced. Something they'd get one shot at or lose an arm -- or worse as Lysander hadn't described. And it had to be perfect. Befitting a Sith Lord's domain. And Lysander didn't look the least bit daunted by the prospect, or that he was relying on someone he knew, but not exactly well.

Then again, Naniti was trusting he was telling her the truth and there wasn't a sacrifice regardless of what they did.

"You've already got the two element trophy," she quipped in response to his statement they'd find out who was better at elemental chaos.

As Lysander stepped forward, his partner exhaled and let her eyes drift closed. Perfect. The right moment. Naniti let herself float in endless waves of time as that moment drew ever nearer. Ever more pressing. As he fought to lift the orb, her brighter blue eyes slid open to regard the landscape before her.

"I'm here," Naniti replied softly as she lifted and stretched out her hands toward the stone. A pinch at the corners of the eyes followed suit as she fought to overcome the weight of gravity's pull on such a terrible mass. Perhaps a more accomplished Lord knew how to bypass mass altogether to make the stone light, but she was just an Acolyte. Lysander and her would simply have to bear its metaphysical weight on their shoulders. "Remember to breathe," she said with a strained voice.

Dark shapes seemed to move in the periphery of her vision, but Naniti knew they weren't real. Somehow. They weren't there. Just physical strain given a visual hallucination, she figured.

Lysander von Ascania

 

[Lysander von Ascania]

Naniti
​

Veins traced like cords beneath his skin. Telekinesis was no stranger to Lysander; not his strongest skill, but far from a novice. The orb itself was resisting, pressing into his psyche as much as the currents of Force around them. Indeed, he recognized the feeling, as if it wanted to test where he could crack first; it was quickly testing every single fiber of his discipline. A hiss of effort left his lips, more sweat beading along his temples. Though his mind refused to acknowledge it, his muscles stretched right to the edge of fatigue.

Beneath the roar of exertion, Naniti's voice reached him. A shared effort.. two wills pushing against the same weight.. not lighter, not less taxing either, but somehow it moved differently.

With a shift of his grip, adjusting the angle, his chest rose and fell. More than strength it was coordination, anticipation.. and trust?

Another inch upward, and the whisper came. “Just a little more..” Speaking it into existence reminded him of the rhythm he needed.

“I am breathing.” The words came out dry, but they weren't meant to be dismissive. There was no chance of filtering them, but Lysander did understand the principle.. a quiet validation threading through the struggle. Proper breathing was tactical; it enhanced endurance, and just about every other measure of effectiveness. So, he inhaled again, filling his lungs with a calm that may have been foreign to many Sith, but it did keep the energy flowing evenly.

Rivulets ran along his side, dampening his attire. Lysander welcomed it though. Just signs of exertion, of a body and mind fully engaged.. that he wasn’t phantoming the effort.

Near the apex, the sun vanished beneath the mass. Then, the blonde flexed his other hand, fingers curling, preparing for the next step. The summong of fire stirred, pyrokinesis unfurling from his core, tracing along his nerves and into fingertips. Heat bloomed and flames licked outward like restless spirits, beginning to ignite each rune.

Even if Lysander bore the flame, the orb would recognize no hierarchy, capable of pressing against both minds involved. Was it malice? Hard to say.. but as he understood it.. it was more so an ancient mechanism testing whether their combined efforts were strong enough.

Steady burned the flames. “I can hold it.. just.. give it the charge–”

 

[Naniti]

Naniti grunted and forced the air into her lungs only for it to spill out again. Strain. Tension. The diaphragm could fail to suck in enough air with so much effort thrown into lifting a rock. An intangible as the Force was it behaved so much like a fluid or a gas in times like these. They were standing in front of a tank with hole bored in it trying to force more water into an already full container. So not only were they trying to breathe, but the Force wanted to flow back and smother them for the effort.

The last bit was Naniti directing scorn at the Force for being so uncooperative. Better rage than lamentation she'd been taught.

Lysander's earlier remark of perfect timing put another kind of pressure on the Togruta at his side as well. Not that he could see it; even the physical toll was easily lost in the struggle to hold up such a massive boulder. She could see the moment. Watched as it loomed closer as her partner readied the fire.

"Now." Legs spread and arm extended to sustain the load, the ring finger and pinky curled inward as her focus was divided. The flash of light struck half a second before the crack of thunder. Naniti's eyelids fluttered pinched at the corners as though an irritant had gotten in her eyes and she was struggling not to blink or turn away. A triathlon of powers. Naniti clenched her teeth and leaned forward slowly in defiance of the strain.

Lysander von Ascania

 

[Lysander von Ascania]

Naniti
​

Heat that wasn’t from Korriban’s sun began to crawl up his shoulders into his arms. The orb’s resistance continued pressing against every tendon and joint too. Lysander gritted his teeth as exhales tore from him in ragged bursts. His lungs burned as he tried to feed oxygen into the muscles. It became more than physical too, lancing about his mind, testing focus.. patience. A few whispers of doubt crept along the edges, like the Force was mocking him.. a feeling he hadn’t tasted in a quite some time.

Perhaps, that was the galaxy trying to keep him humble.

More flames erupted from his fingers, keeping him present. Then the lightning arced from Naniti, tangling with those flames, that danced over the orb’s surface, as it began to shudder from the pulses of their combined efforts. Then, the weight shifted abruptly. The absence of pressure threw him backwards, arms flailing as he stumbled back onto the ground beneath his boots. A cloud of red dust flew up.

Fully charged, the orb hovered, glowing with light that seemed.. alive.

His chest burned with the next intake of air, heart racing. The valley’s rock face responded. Lines splitting.. stones groaning. The hidden entrance was finally revealed, the orb being the key which unlocked it.

Standing again, he brushed dirt from the sleeves of his tunic. He’d seen countless wonders across the Outer Rim the past couple years, but the terrifying beauty of this moment with elemental power merging.. it was beyond anything his mind could grasp.

The orb cracked before falling, hitting the ground with a sound that seemed wrong for its size. Delicate, almost.

A cautious step was taken forward, keeping a few feet of space between them. Lysander’s limbs were heavy. Most of his energy was spent. It wasn’t loud, but there was a little echo of triumph from what they just accomplished, too.

"Before we step through, I want to know.. is there anything you need to tell me? Any.. doubt, or hesitation, maybe a question that's been nagging at you?"

Something about asking felt wrong; he wasn't the type to pry into another's story.. though he knew the same question could just as easily be turned back on him.

"I'm not trying to overstep, and I don't want you to think I'm trying to undermine your strength, either. If there's anything you want to tell me.. I'm listening."

 

[Naniti]

Naniti exhaled sharply when the pressure vanished. So too did all three Force streams, which left her slightly slumped forward with a little too much blood pressure in her head for her liking. Her eyes, however, stayed forward and on the orb just in case there was more to it. A moment of triumph was easily exploited. It was a valid tactic according to numerous Sith teachings.

After a moment Naniti had to blink hard. Then blink again. Perhaps she'd strained herself too hard. Tried to do too much. Just the entire thing had felt so important she absolutely had to get it right. Eye strain. Dry eyes. Trivial suffering to ensure they advanced forward -- and survived.

Her hands hung at her sides. The Togruta gave both shoulders a roll, one after the other.

Only when Lysander spoke did she finally turned her attention from the orb. Even after it had cracked and fallen back to the ground. Her brow pinched just for a split second at his question. Where had...? Well, this might be the last opportunity to confess anything or coordinate before things got... interesting.

"I've never been inside a Nexus before. If it forces me to face my demons or something," the Togruta trailed off for a second. "Let's just say they're colorful and plenty. Remember what we were talking about before? About putting people in their place? You don't always get to pick and choose. Enjoy the show? Defend yourself? I don't know how this works."

There was more, but Naniti wasn't entirely aware of it herself so there was little should could say on the subject.

"The only question I have," she forced herself upright having gotten her heart rate and breathing under control -- or near enough -- again, "is whether this labyrinth of trial and suffering is going to teach me something useful? And that question I direct squarely at whatever ghost still haunts it."

With a shrug, she snorted softly. "Do we know anything more about what's inside? Or is it only the entrance that's been documented?"

Of course, Naniti was curious of the same about Lysander, but was there a need to ask? Seemed she was about to find out first-hand, and if nothing actually did happen then she'd harass Lysander saying he owed her one. He might even feel guilt ridden about all the trouble to give her details. A woman had to know when to play her cards.

Lysander von Ascania

 

[Lysander von Ascania]

Naniti
​

Lysander took in another slow breath, trying to settle everything inside into something coherent, though his ribs felt like they still wanted to negotiate. Naniti’s words struck a place he often tried to ignore. His diaphragm expanded again. The red sun above them wasn’t helping; his pulse still felt close to the surface. He continued listening carefully to what she revealed.

Eyes drifted downward. Older memories rubbed the surface of his thoughts. Fragments of Korriban, shards of Naboo. With the dark, sometimes fear could feel like a hand inside the skull, twisting something he wished not to be touched.

At least his tone was steadier than his pulse. “I understand. Really. I have a.. colorful one myself.” They were unwelcome, of course, but predictable. Sometimes the Dark didn’t whisper.. it just stared.

He didn’t elaborate; Lysander wasn’t hiding anything but wasn’t quite ready to pull that thread.. not here. Probably a better time for clarity than more confessions.

“Sometimes it doesn’t even give you the chance to defend yourself. Sometimes it just… shows you what it wants to. What it thinks you fear most. But you won’t be doing it blindly. And you won’t be doing it alone.”

The silence breathed for a few heartbeats.

“I think.. I think the usefulness isn’t always immediate. Not exactly the kind you can hold in your hand or catalog from a training lesson. The visions.. they aren’t rewards. They’re tools.. tests. Some will show you what you already know, some will twist that knowledge until it feels alien, until it hurts. That’s what I’ve been told.”

Fingers glided over his tunic's seam while contemplating on what to say next.

“It’s not a gift to be here.. it’s a crucible, a teacher. You don’t choose what it reveals.. just how you respond. Many sorcerers have sought this place. Resurrection, bending life energies. Some came to learn, some came to dominate. Most left hollow, some.. worse. Whatever they gained or thought was power, it was just another chain. Another step deeper into the Dark.”

A hand went to the back of Lysander's neck, pressing lightly.. before falling back to his side. “Everything past the entrance is hearsay and.. ghost stories. Scholars scribble about relics and chambers.. I heard something about necomantic fires once, and shrines to immortality.”

Gravel crunched under his boots as he took a step forward, and the Force settling over him was more dense, slower, tugging at both limbs and thoughts. Shadows were already stirring at the edges of his vision, and noises were amplified. The valley was watching them.

 

[Naniti]

"What I fear." Naniti rolled her shoulders again and her head to loosen up. There wasn't a storm of thought or emotion from the Togruta that stood there. If anything, she'd managed to right her posture and stared at the entrance in defiance.

Lysander continued after a moment, which drew her blue gaze back to him. Suddenly the violet woman laughed. "You hear the expression about staring into the Abyss?" Naniti grinned. "Some Nexii should be careful who they look at too closely." Not that her life's tale was truly exceptional. Plenty to stoke Dark Side flames. Plenty of anger, rage... and other things. But, no, her thoughts were more on a talent that had left her subjugated to peoples' expectations, and their reproach at not meeting them on their schedule. Would that matter in a place like this? Well, she liked to think so. If for no other reason than to spit in some ghost's eye.

"And you think this is somewhere you need to be?" Naniti asked once Lysander spoke of a crucible that left most worse off for their effort. Hell of a training ground. She might have been joking, but there had to be something worth all the suffering this place had brought forth. Something for people to keep coming back and expecting to be The One or whatever. As for them, she looked over at Lysander and thought of what he'd said before. About changing the past. There were things worse than death. A number of them had been written down by people too eager to share what monstrosity they'd conjured up for their enemies.

Well, what was all her work for if not to make sure the worst case didn't befall her. By extension Lysander. He'd only just begun to train and show her things, after all; Naniti wasn't letting anyone rip him away.

"Immortality, huh? Every Acolyte's wet dream. Most Knights, and a few Lords too -- none of them ashamed to admit it." Some of them went out of their way to crow about their life's work and how many they'd sacrificed for it. Everyone had their way of 'keeping score' in life. Suppose some of them were messed up, but Naniti wasn't powerful enough yet to tell them that to their face; nor terribly inclined to waste effort doing so.

Lysander took a step forward and stepped. Naniti took a step forward and then another, and another. She wouldn't stop until her hand rested on the orb. "We really must install a door. Traps and beasts are well enough to test mettle and strength, but there should be more. Even a dullard can slay the Hollow--" her voice cut off as the Togruta's head snapped in the direction of the maw. "Be silent," she snapped as her wrist snapped in the direction of the consuming darkness within. Something stirred in the tunnel and then fled. Suddenly even the tunnel didn't appear quite as dark any more. "Ravenous thing. Graush--" she turned around to look in Lysander's direction before her voice cut off again and a furrow brow accompanied a gaze that slide over the scenery. A deflated sigh followed. "He's not even here. Off experimenting again. I'll do it myself."

Lysander von Ascania

 

[Lysander von Ascania]

Naniti​

"I've heard that phrase before." Just an honest reflection settling between them. "And I think.. maybe there’s some truth to it."

Though the shadows of the valley began to lengthen, his eyes didn’t leave hers. The question she asked was too simple for what they would face. But she deserved honestly, not that careful calculus he usually offered. Admittedly, some of their talk here on Korriban had planted a seed. And maybe, at a better time, they could explore that conversation fully, to sift through what was left behind.

“I.. do, Naniti.” The words were like a whisper against the wind. “Even if it sounds absurd or sounds like some.. inevitability I’m grasping at in the dark. It's something I wrestle with constantly.” But, there was a strange sense of clarity in the absurd. Maybe it was the Dark, or just chance.. but it’s where he was meant to be.

His gaze drifted back past her as they stepped past the threshold of the Nexus. Immortality didn’t quite have a place in his deepest yearnings. There wasn’t even a bitter emptiness from the notion. In fact, it ranked near the very bottom of his totem. Maybe it was purpose that defined the contours of his soul.

“Yeah well.. It’s not mine," he admitted. “If you ask me, it’s just another story written by fools who refuse to live fully in the moment they’re given.”

A small quip was forming on his tongue; that was, until she barked a command, a side of her hadn't seen before. But it caused Lysander to pause, barely registering what stirred and fled immediately after.

“Seems Graush prefers tinkering to responsibility.” Another murmur. “Good thing some of us prefer to improvise.”

He felt the pull of the Force in the tunnel, already testing, curling around his senses. The shadows weren’t just darkness; they were alive and aware. Boots crunched on the dust. “A door might have been.. less dramatic. I can already picture some miserable ancient scroll, the kind a Sith scholar would leave behind. ‘Beware the Hollow. Enter at your own peril. And mind the door’. Almost comforting.. in a terrifying sort of way.”

There was a hum that pulsed from the walls. And whatever he just shared with Naniti felt like the shadows themselves were absorbing it too. A chill ran down the teen's spine while whispers began tugging at the corners of thoughts he hadn't touched.. in months? Years? Regret, doubt, choices he'd buried, playing over memories that only became louder. The energy was heavier here, pushing against Lysander in ways he could not analyze.

Do you trust yourself? Are you strong enough? Do you truly deserve to step further?

Each was like a phantom's hand brushing his psyche. Whatever quip, levity, shared comfort from just seconds ago.. was gone.

The Nexus began prodding at the edges of patience. Figures.. the moment he stopped worrying shadows, they decided to start talking.. with teeth, too.

A figure emerged.. not fully formed, but enough to trigger recognition. His chest tightened. It even moved just like someone he once knew..

It’s not real, Lysander told himself.

"Everything.. only as heavy.. as I let it.." Another mantra, one he went on to repeat three more times to himself.

Even an echo of doubt here could become heavy enough to sink a man if he let it..

 

[Naniti]

"Less dramatic?" The stiffness in Naniti's voice was gone, replaced with uncertainty about what Lysander was talking about. "Comforting. I guess tombs don't usually have modern doors. They aren't meant to be opened once sealed." Not without effort anyway.

The Togruta's breathing had become heavier as they slowly entered the tunnel. She turned her head to one side, then the next, and rubbed her arms with a soft expulsion of breath. Fragments moved in the shadows. They drifted near or passed without so much as a glance. Their eyes were... sightless. Empty. As were their voices. Echoes of moments long gone. Were these spirits or merely impressions? Whatever they were, their number had lessened inside the cavern, but that came with a sense of... solidity those outside had lacked. Perhaps the echo were stronger in emotion? Or maybe it had just been the person living it had been stronger in the Force.

"Lysander, up ahead," Naniti pointed to a visage only she might actually see. Her gesture wilted, however, as she took a combat posture with her blue eyes focused straight ahead. So many things to see, so little time. And now the Nexus brought them here.

Heavy? Lysander was repeating something about it being heavy. It was heavy. A heavy burden not to let the darkness boil over within. They had yet to discuss her past. There was a great and deep well of emotion to farm there, but it would lead only to disaster if it got free. As an Acolyte she could hardly say she'd learned how to harness it. Control it so people didn't feel it raging within, perhaps, but not harness it like a proper Sith warrior should.

"If this Nexus doesn't settle down, I'll snap its karking snipe," the Togruta hissed. The figures faded away for the time being. Perhaps they'd return later, but Naniti wouldn't be any more tolerant of them being conjured then as she was now. If anything her long-suffering might be at an end by that point.

"Come on. The Expedition went that way," she said as a violet finger pointed down an adjoining corridor. A look was spared over to her partner to see if he was still wrestling with a demon of some kind.

Lysander von Ascania

 

[Lysander von Ascania]

Naniti
​

There were so many echoes leftover from long ago. And they weren't just tricks of the light of random shadows playing on the walls. No, it was something deeper, like a buzz you'd get by stepping into a place soaked with stories of ambition and failure.. things left behind when other Sith reached too far and fractured themselves on the altar of the Dark.

He caught the contours of a visage that folded in the shadows. Ephemeral and insistent. The Nexus continued to disturb the rhythm of his stance. Lysander tried to focus on his breathing, allowing ribs to expand without rushing. A minuscule nod acknowledged Naniti. As they pressed forward, both hands flexed with rotations of the wrists, preparing muscle memory, in case something here decided to engage.

“I imagine even tombs prefer their quiet,” he murmured under his breath. A half smile threatened the edge of his lips before vanishing. Just a quip for the shadows, not his partner. Timing kind of mattered here.

“Figures. Graush prefers tinkering.” His glance shot to the edges of the corridor. He could step forward and test it, could wait and see which way it prefers to move.. both options would just be lessons. Control in perception felt like the closest thing to control in action.

“Then,” Lysander continued, “we follow the Expedition. Shadows here are… polite for now.” Except polite wasn’t a courtesy they could trust. The most minor twitch here could be twisted.

The corridor tightened around, another step forward. Lysander stepped forward, letting his boots find their rhythm again. A shadow figure ahead shifted. Not closer.. just clearer, like ink bleeding into water. It advanced with patience, if one could call it that, searching the space as if asking permission to exist. Perhaps the Nexus was smart enough not to give it a face.

“Naniti, tell me you see it this time.” If she didn’t see it, he needed to know. If she did, then the Nexus was escalating. Either outcome mattered. Everything here wanted something, so what did it truly want?

“This one looks like it wants a conversation.. or it’s terrible at making an entrance.”

Deeper in the corridor, a second presence stirred. “Whatever that thing is.. it isn’t alone.” Lysander kept his hand from the lightsaber. The first trial lay in understanding, or so he believed.

 

[Naniti]

"Garush?" Naniti echoed the name, uncertainty evident in the waver of her voice. Her eyes were on the tunnel ahead. The tomb filled with the damned. Odd as the name was, there wasn't time for her to turn and ask what Lysander meant properly.

A soft hike in her breathing accompanying a brush with one of the shadows. "Curse you," she said under her breath as she planted one foot in front of the other. Lysander seemed to be forcing his feet to take the next step, but his Togruta partner had little effort moving. If anything, she moved side to side and clenched then unclenched her teeth often.

Blue eyes narrowed at the shadow that'd taken residence in a narrowed portion of their path. "This time?" her voice full of incredulity. "The place is full of them."

A mirthless bark of laughter followed his comment that it might want to talk. "I bet it does." Her lips thinned. "I don't see a way around it." Naniti hadn't moved from where the two had stopped, and her head had barely moved. If anything her attention was fixed on the specter ahead.

"Alright, look, if something weird happens you'll have to tell me, Lysander. You hear me? You'll have to tell me. Afterward." There was a pause to see if he'd acknowledge what she said. If he instead asked what she meant, the Togruta would only shake her head. Either way, she'd step forward with a scowl on her lips. "Alright, you piece of undigested squid..." This next part was not enjoyable.

The violet woman stepped forward and reached out her hand toward it.

"What do we have here?" Naniti's voice had grown deeper and more formal as she turned to look back at Lysander. "How many times is it this month-- no, this week alone? Lord Garush is not to be disturbed unless you have ingredients for the ritual." A show was made of leaning to one side and peering beyond where Lysander stood. "I don't see any new subjects drug behind you." A long-suffering, drawn out sigh spilled forth. "I doubt anyone assisting him in this work is aware of the depths of the Force the Lord has explored. Be grateful he allows you to see as much as you have, and doesn't wipe your mind every time you leave. Last thing was need are the 'curious' prowling around."

Naniti straightened up and waved a hand dismissively. "Go on. Return to the barracks until you're summoned."

She turned to look back at the other shadow that remained merely a ghostily visage. "Few are strong enough in the Dark Side as it is for the Lord's taste."

Lysander von Ascania

 

[Lysander von Ascania]

Naniti ​

The Force tugged at him from every corner.. waiting for a slip. Waiting for another thought to turn into doubt. Waiting for him to betray his own rhythm. Lysander had walked through danger before, unaware he had no right to survive it. This was different. Rather than the threat of a saber or some ambush from being unprepared, it was judgment. Quiet.. vast.. inward and outward at once. It left him wondering if he was assessing it correctly. Was he reading it as it intended.. or out of fear?

The Torgruta’s presence made it hard to hide from himself. He breathed out a slow exhale, drawn through teeth clenched, as her words sank in.

“Nothing hidden, no half truths” he affirmed. Lysander reminded himself once more that it washe that brought her here. The thought of her trusting him, of stepping forward into this foreign space with nothing but faith in his presence should’ve been enough.

As his partner addressed the shadow with poise, he unconsciously made an adjustment on his heels. He couldn't help but observe the more formal inflection in her voice. Though new to him, it was clear command and authority radiated from her. And in truth, it was difficult not to admire that, for not many could elicit that kind response without awakening every horror lurking in this forsaken place.

A tiny fissure in the stony visage he'd been portraying, there was a twitch of his lips that hinted at approval. "That was.. great,” words barely above a whisper, “even I almost believed it”

Lysander let something snake through his own chest, coiling, constricting, trying to suffocate the uncertainty that had been knotted inside him ever since they crossed the threshold. His hand reached out, a grasping talon, taking Naniti's wrist, a reminder of existence in this realm of twisted memories and ethereal illusions. Under the warmth of her skin, he too would feel the pulse of her vein thumping in time, synchronizing with his own.

Right now, he didn’t need to be the leader the Covenant insisted on, nor the figure his master might expect him to embody. He’d walked through worse, faced situations that should have claimed him, and here he was.. still live. The part of him that craved to prove itself, to rise into some ideal he’d yet to fully understand, would have to wait. This current area was registering as a bit too claustrophobic for his taste anyhow..

“Stay with me on this.” Not that there was anywhere else to go, but the words felt right to say. The shadows never paused, still sniffing for hesitation. One misstep could undo him. Both of them. He let his voice serve as a bridge across the fragile space. “I have an idea.” That phrase could scream caution in any corner of the galaxy. Not a strategy.. just a spark to grasp. That would have to be enough.

Tilting his chin along with a light tug he moved forward. “Follow me.” Releasing his hold, he broke into a run. A controlled run, like that might somehow carry less consequence.

Light and dark began bending into impossible geometries.

A flicker of orange light caught his attention. Too far, too fast? It didn't seem possible. But whatever this new chamber was, it radiated danger. Roaring flames were felt from afar in ways that made his teeth ache. Murals lined the walls, showing Sith stepping into fames.. willing or forced.. twas difficult to say.

“We’ll make it through. Watch the fires, and stay close..”

Everything here suggested more warnings and lessons.

 

[Naniti]

Naniti blinked and pulled slightly away as her eyes fell to Lysander's hand and then back to his face. Her eyes were widen and brow furrowed. "What...?" Lysander then said to stay with. That he had an idea. The Togruta gave him a slow nod in acknowledgement, but with the way she looked around clarity was obviously lacking.

Soon enough he gave a tug and leased her almost in the same breadth before making a run for it. Naniti didn't know what was happening, but things were in motion, which was enough to keep her right behind him.

Once they arrived in a chamber, the Togruta drew close to a wall and planted a hand on it. Her eyes were a light blue when they were opened, and at that moment they were not. An ache crept its way across her brain and down her spine as she stood there. "Too many," she breathed to herself.

"Both," Naniti said unbidden as her eyes opened. They shifted slightly as if having trouble focusing on an object. "You probably don't hear it. The screams. How many passed through here, and how many were strong enough to emerge? Nothing but screams." A sharp snort followed as if she'd expected more.

She pushed off from the wall and moved closer to where Lysander stood. "I'll be fine, Lysander." Maybe she should be the one in front. Difficult for her to explain why. Actually, she found a lot of what they were doing here difficult; there seemed to be lapses in her memories. "Are you going to use your skill with fire to manage this trial? The more you do, the lesser the reward." One could nullify the fires altogether presumably to pass, but there would be nothing worthwhile gained in doing so. Well, except for the certainty of not perishing in the flames.

Lysander von Ascania

 

[Lysander von Ascania]

Naniti


From the corner of his eye, he saw the violet Togruta near the wall. Her anguish echoed, but to name it aloud.. maybe that would only stoke the flames further. He wasn't sure. Even from his current position, heat was radiating in waves. It wasn’t entirely different from when they’d first crossed the threshold; it tested presence, patience, and where he’d stumbled earlier.. the ability to see and move. Without hesitation..

Lysander looked back to the murals where the fires danced along them. Not really the transformation he was looking for today, whatever this unspoken calculus of survival might be. The hiss of tortured bodies, ambition turned to nothing more than ash?

“Well, if nothing else, they picked a room with an ambiance.”

He glanced at Naniti, standing closer now. “You know. I’m beginning to suspect these murals exaggerate a bit. None of these acolytes ever look like they’re having fun.” Quips were the best armor. Even more so on Korriban. Humor, perception, timing.. they all had their places in survival. Or when running from life’s problems.

The meaning behind her words would not strike all at once. Just slow burning clarity. Part of him wanted to maneuver around it the same way he so often did with navigating the rest of the galaxy. Overpowering the flames was tempting. But understanding finally settled. Lysander held her gaze for a second before the chamber began tugging at his awareness once more.. a pull that was relentless. The effort it took to keep his focus on her eyes rather than those dragging currents bordered on painful.

Sure, bending everything would diminish the reward, but he couldn’t deny that something happening to her might cost far more than forfeiting whatever strength this trial offered. After all, he imagined there would be many others here. One of the rewards was already standing before him, a strange alignment of chance that seemed improbable in the Outer Rim. The other, the one whispered at the end of the Nexus, carried its own allure. Well, whatever Lysander felt.. he could not overwrite her path with his own strength.

“No sense pretending this isn’t going to be a disaster. Just stay close..”

Short on words or a proper explanation, he just stepped forward, into the flames, expecting the heat.. the pain.. something that’d tear at both muscle and bone. Nothing touched his skin; instead it all rushed straight for the places he guarded the most. A storm of his own thoughts. While it did not burn his body, it did peel at his composure.. chewing through memory and every protective wall he’d ever built.

By the time he realized the fire wanted his focus more than flesh, he was already deep in it, vision swimming. Time lost shape in that gnawing expanse, but he soon found himself where another corridor awaited.

 

[Naniti]

"At least the only shadows are those on the walls," Naniti replied regarding the room's ambiance. Well, there were also flickers of them in the flames, but they were washed away as soon as they appeared leaving only their screams of anguish. Failure was not lightly tolerated among Sith -- sometimes lethally 'corrected.'

A dubious warble in the Togruta's brow accompanied Lysander's mirth. Fun? Just his... playful mannerism. It was endearing even if Naniti had to consciously recognize it; her snap judgment was always harsh, but then her pre-Academy instruction hadn't left room for levity. Which is why she tried to smile when she could otherwise Naniti figured she'd be one of those scowling Sith Ladies in later years. "Free hair removal." Not that Togruta were known for having hair. Probably would have worked better with a Wookie?

No. No one wanted to see a hairless Wookie.

A disaster? No, Naniti knew it wouldn't be that. Unpleasant? That was a given.

As the sights and sounds assailed her, Naniti held her hands open out slightly to either side with her chin high. She could feel the power lash against her with the strain evident down the length of her body. Yet, while it sought to sear certain composures and burn away certain needless aspects, all it got out of her was a single fiery thoughts, That the best you've got? Not that she enjoyed it. Even when the memories and words rose unbidden out there in the world, Naniti did not enjoy or relish or desire their company. But they were. This place sought to dial it up, and she felt it, but if it thought she'd crumple to the ground this Togruta was happy to defy its expectations.

Lysander von Ascania

 

[Lysander von Ascania]

Naniti
​

The heat slowly began to fade, but its echo was stubborn. It was present to his skin and memory.. but tolerable. Just what he needed, another ghost he couldn’t shake. Lysander drew in a slow breath, letting it fill his chest before exhaling slowly.. an attempt to steady the currents the flames pulled askew. Was it meant to further test endurance? Or his patience? Or maybe to remind him that presence was never neutral.

His gaze immediately found Naniti. Recognition, caution.. respect, each layered across his awareness. A smile ghosted, born from traces before the chaos. Free hair removal? Somehow, the galaxy, or whatever it is, decided humor could exist next to screaming flames. Okay. Fine.. oddly reassuring. Since he remembered, that just meant they were still themselves, even after walking through ‘fire’, right? Well.. clearly the shadows had pulled different things out of each of them.

The look he gave the violet Togruta was steady. “So. Why the spa pitch right in the middle of all that?”

Moving forward, the corridor began to slope downward. The air thickened along the walls and floors.. not with heat this time but it still promised trouble. Foreboding.. ominous. He didn’t like it, not one bit. Faint runes glimmered along the stone. Given that this was a Dark Side nexus, that just meant death was patiently waiting in one of the corners. Was he considering being the one to test whether they actually delivered? Yes.

Then something else caught his eye. A vault.. or something close enough. His gaze swept slowly, noting a talisman here, a saber hilt there, an amulet tucked in a corner. Each one hummed with the Dark Side.

Do not touch. Seriously. Do not touch.

He didn’t look directly at Naniti, but obviously his words were meant for her. “Pretty sweet collection, no? I wonder who the interior decorator was.. Exar Kun?” Yeah, the memory was folded into the corners of his brain. The mention after their first time with Shii‑Cho never quite left him.

On a narrow shelf, jagged edges caught his attention before he could fully name it. Upon closer inspection, they appeared to be fragments of a shattered holocron. Lysander had never actually seen one in person.. only read of them, about the teachings of their potential knowledge and power, ever since his earliest days back on Coruscant. He didn’t consciously seek it out.. but the pull was undeniable.

One step forward, then another, and before he realized it, he was hovering over it. These relics were not passive.. and neither was he.

 

[Naniti]

Naniti straightened up as Lysander found her comment amusing, her eyes focused on him after they emerged from the flames. "To spit in a Sith Lord's eye, of course." Attacking their ego was the only lasting blow you could deal to one of them. Especially if they were dead. Even then would it last? Not something the Togruta felt like humoring after the damn place had her remember quality family time.

She followed him out of the chamber and down the corridor. Her eyes drew to the faint runes in the stone as they went. There was the sense of familiarity; as if she could almost understand what they were saying or intended to do.

Then they stopped by another chamber with treasures on full display. Half-lidded eyes turned in Lysander's direction at his quip. A small smile touched her lips. "If that's Exar Kun's lightsaber me and this tomb are getting into a fight." She seriously doubted it was though. Maybe Garush's? That'd make more sense, but wouldn't be any safer to waltz up and claim.

"What are you doing?" The Togruta's brow furrowed as the man started to move toward a pile of... well she couldn't really tell from where she stood. It didn't look like anything. "Lysander!" she shouted as a large, dark ephemeral maw appeared with dark red smoldering eyes. It loomed over the broken holocron as the Dark drew together. Naniti appeared at his side with her hands raised in time to catch the lightning that erupted from either side at the two of them.

The enormous power dance danced in the palms of her hands like wild beasts. Snaps of power arced between her limbs. Strain was evident on her face as she struggled to hold her place under the barrage. It began to grow difficult to breathe as the darkness washed over her figure.

Lysander von Ascania

 

[Lysander von Ascania]

Naniti
​

Even if they were in a Dark Side Nexus with a reputation for breaking people, the crease over Lysander’s brow at her question wasn’t one of alarm. He found himself hyper focused on the shattered holocron, as each edge whispered secrets to him. As he understood it, it was ancient knowledge forged by ambition.. long forgotten. Even so, he was also aware that this wasn’t the exact holocron he partly sought.. but there was still a magnetic tug to this thing.

An ache even crawled along his spine, but it didn’t prevent his fingers from lingering. Then, a shape took form. His gaze shifted to the red eyes burning with malice. Reflexively he moved back into a defensive stance, where he found Naniti at his side. Lysander’s own limbs moved to anticipate that surge of storm-like energy. Digits curled into microgrips as the air tore itself apart.

He was never one to lean away from anything, so he pushed forward. Maybe it wasn’t any different than a dancer to anticipate a partner’s move. The energy quickly brushed his own skin in violent waves. More than pain, it was that same gnawing pressure that’d been on his heels since arriving.

Any pain Naniti carried radiated toward him through the Force. The first note tugged in his chest.. one a Sith might, no, would definitely frown upon. Empathy. But then, Lysander' s worldview always leaned tribal in its own way. He knew many, but his circle was narrow, composed only of those he deemed capable of shaping outcomes in this crazy thing called life. Perhaps, that was why, her struggle mirrored back through him. There was nothing sadistic about it.. just clarity that sharpened him like a blade. If the Nexus demanded everything, then he would give it without hesitation.

The teen's palm rose, fingers splayed, allowing the dark energy to respond. From the back of his skull to his shoulders, and along his arms, he could feel that power brewing.. begging to be unleashed. A crackle hissed as lightning of his own conjured, arcs dancing along the shape of his hands. Fixed on the broken holocron, the lightning struck. Shards and other metals instantly went flying.. but he didn't stop there. The entire shelf began to groan until fragments splintered. It bordered on mindless rage from him, but he couldn’t stop. Moments later, dust and chips of where the shelf had once been began raining down on them.