Private An Audience

[Nyxira Valis]

​

The skies over Eliad churned with dark, rolling clouds, a tempest brewing unnaturally above the capital city. The people below hurried through the streets, their eyes cast nervously skyward as the first streaks of crimson lightning tore through the heavens. Storms were perhaps not uncommon on Eliad, but this one felt different. It carried a weight, an oppressive presence that pressed down upon the city like an invisible hand. The air hummed with tension, and whispers spread among the populace as they tried to make sense of the storm's sudden arrival.

Above the capital, a sleek black shuttle pierced through the swirling clouds, descending silently toward the city like a predator stalking its prey. Its dark hull gleamed faintly in the storm's eerie light, an unmarked vessel carrying no heralds or sigils to announce its presence. It landed unceremoniously in one of the less populated districts, the hiss of its landing ramp opening barely audible over the rumble of thunder.

From the shadows of the shuttle emerged a figure shrouded in darkness and power: Darth Nythera, her imposing frame silhouetted against the flashing skies. Her long, black cloak billowed around her as she stepped onto the rain-slicked streets, her piercing violet eyes glowing faintly with an unholy light. The faint pulsing of Sith runes etched into her armor added to the aura of menace that radiated from her like the storm itself.

Nythera moved through the streets with a deliberate grace, her tall, commanding presence drawing the wary gazes of the few brave enough to remain outside. Those who saw her quickly averted their eyes, sensing instinctively that this was no mere Sith — they could feel the storm's wrath following her every step. She paid them no mind, her focus fixed on the towering silhouette of Darth Malum's palace dominating the skyline.

Each step brought her closer, the storm growing more volatile as if echoing her will. Lightning arced across the sky, illuminating the dark spires of the palace in brief, jagged flashes. Rain began to fall, cold and relentless, hammering against the stone streets as she approached the gates. The guards stationed there, caught between their duty and the overwhelming presence before them, hesitated as she came into view.

Nythera stopped at the base of the palace steps, her gaze sweeping over the guards with cold indifference. Without waiting for their challenge, she ascended, her voice calm but cutting as she spoke. "Inform Darth Malum of House Marr that I have arrived. I demand an audience."

The storm rumbled overhead, and the lightning seemed to crackle in agreement, casting her in its crimson glow as she stepped forward. She did not come to request an audience — she came to take one. The doors of the palace loomed before her, and with them, the opportunity to test the strength of the Dark Council's resolve.

Darth Malum of House Marr ​

 

[Darth Malum of House Marr]

Even after taking power on the world, Malum was unsure if he much liked the Golden Palace that Darth Xyrah had made to cement their rule here, it was... lavish, there was little denying that, what more could one expect from a construction that rippled with gold, yet, much in the same way it was lavish, it was equally so... gaudy. In some way, for a world in which nobility was so entrenched, avoiding the bourgeoise and working-class revolutions that had played out in so many other worlds, it was exactly the kind of home he required on the world.

No King of Eliad could claim age of descent, or dynastic prestige as a reason for the right to rule over the nobles here. Indeed, Eliad was such a planet where one could not truly prosperously rule without the consent of the aristocracy that had been ever so firmly entrenched here for generations, near millennia now. Any one of them could claim a greater right to the throne.

Which made each of them more willing to snidely compromise with an outsider than the other. So he saw why the Golden Palace was necessary... still, there was not a day that he did not miss the Palace on Alvaria, it was true majesty, with an age far beyond him, it held memory that went further back than he imagined most that walked the galaxy.

In that place those which had been veritably worshipped by a whole planet.

And he was to take command of that legacy...

...Somehow it was preferable to this place, so large, so cold... so empty.

At least today, it would seem he would have company, the purple storms seen through the stained glass windows had been an intriguing sight, but far from the first indication that one sought... something, on his world, and with how open they were being, it seemed there had been little want to be subtle, as the defensive fleet above the planet's orbit, had allowed the single sleek black shuttle passed the blockade, as then, the capital was given sight to the most peculiar weather phenomenon.

There had been reports from Dromund Kaas of the return of a certain enigmatic figure.

For one of Braxus' creatures to come visit him unannounced, yet, without seeming to keep it much of a secret...

...Well it was enough that the anti-air guns had not sung.

Masked red eyes glanced towards the light flickering by the side, confirmation that she had made her descent at his landing bay, and was being escorted up to his office. Malum poured the last of the red wax on one of the crowning letters, pressing the emblemed ring down, the mask of Darth Marr pressed upon wax, the seal of House Marr made plain.

Such had been another... eccentricity of this world.

As he began writing another letter, awaiting the arrival of this Darht Nythera.

Nyxira Valis
Mentioned: Saryn Zambrano Darth Prazutis

 

[Nyxira Valis]

Nyxira ascended the steps of the Golden Palace with deliberate precision, her boots echoing against the polished stone as the storm raged overhead. The guards flanking the grand doors shifted uncomfortably in her presence, their unease evident in the stiffness of their movements. But none dared to challenge her further after her initial demand. Her aura was a force unto itself, radiating authority and danger in equal measure.

When the grand doors creaked open, revealing the opulent halls within, Nyxira's gaze swept over the interior. Gold upon gold, intricate carvings, and shimmering chandeliers — it was a monument to extravagance, yet to her eyes, it carried the same emptiness that she often saw in the hollow ambitions of lesser Sith. It was all surface, lacking the depth of true power.

She allowed a faint smirk to curl her lips.

The escort led her deeper into the palace, their movements precise but cautious, as though afraid to stray too close to her. She walked with a predatory grace, her violet eyes taking in every detail of the environment, every angle of the architecture, and every subtle tremor in the Force. This was Darth Malum's domain, and she intended to know it as well as he did by the time their meeting was done.

When they reached the entrance to his office, the guards stationed there hesitated for a moment before pushing the heavy doors open. Nyxira strode inside without waiting for permission, her cloak billowing slightly as she crossed the threshold. Her gaze fell on Darth Malum, seated behind a grand desk, his crimson eyes glowing faintly behind his mask as he regarded her with a calm, measured intensity.

The room was quiet but for the faint crackle of lightning from the storm outside. Nyxira stopped a short distance from the desk, her presence filling the room like a stormcloud ready to burst. She inclined her head slightly — not a bow, but an acknowledgment of his station. Respect, tempered by the implicit challenge that hung in the air between them.

"Darth Malum," she said, her voice low and smooth, carrying the weight of her intent. "You are a difficult man to meet, though I suppose that is by design." Her smirk deepened, sharp and knowing.

Her violet gaze locked onto his, unflinching and piercing. "You know why I am here," she continued, her tone growing colder, more focused. "I did not come to admire your gilded halls or kiss your boots. I am here because you are a man of vision. And visionaries… they understand the value of power."

She gestured faintly, the faint crackle of crimson-tinged lightning sparking briefly between her fingers. "I am building something that will reshape the balance of power within the Sith. Something that will outlast the ambitions of the weak and the pretenses of the undeserving. But to do so, I require allies who can see beyond the petty rivalries of the present."

Darth Malum of House Marr ​

 

[Darth Malum of House Marr]

Masked head drew up as she entered the room, even behind a mask that revealed nothing, the painted stare of rubies was impossible to not be felt. Only, for as the first of her words to begin, for the pen to begin its continued writings, the words mattered little, only the act in itself as letters conjoined together, in swirled styles. A new pot of wax had been delivered in the interim of her arrival, with only the scratch of ink imprinting upon paper filling the room.

Well, that, and the thunder rumbling after yet another purple lightning bolt struck the earth.

It would rain soon, how good... he did so quite enjoy the rain.

She appeared to be everything which the reports from Dromund Kaas promised, all her actions thus far seemed as much in character as he would imagine them to be. Confident, nay, arrogant. Powerful, he had felt her presence far before he had laid eyes upon her. Beautiful, at a height that rivalled his own, raven locks much like his own flowed down with shine down past her neck, past her shoulders, yet, that was where similarity seemed to end, a narrow nose sat abreast black lips accentuated by amethyst eyes. While her form...

...It did serve to leave little to the imagination, arrogant was right, she knew what she was, or at least she believed she was something indeed, and she was not without the ability to flaunt it. Still, she was not without hope he supposed, the bow, or more aptly the nod of her head showed some respect for betters. It reminded him... he smiled beneath the mask, that it reminded him of himself likely was not her objective.

The pen continued to make purchase upon the parchment, only ceasing, as her words concluded. A silence drew on between them, as they faced each other, and through unseen eyes, their presence melded in the air between, testing, considering... battling.

His mask drew upwards, finally again facing her, yet still, sat upon his seat. The lightning struck outside, filling a darkened room with the barest moment the full face of light, as the thunder boomed outside.

And the rain began to fall.

"Most interesting..." He mused, as if it was the most disinteresting subject in the entire galaxy, "...With such vagueries do you intend to gain my curiosity, let alone my attention?" The question seemed genuine, as an unblinking mask stared right ahead, "...Darth Nythera, you are not the first to ask for my favour, you are not even the prettiest," The pen fell upon the page, gazing back down as finger grasped around the pot of melted wax, the red viscous liquid poured down upon the writ, and then his ring pressed down upon it, leaving his mark ever prominent, "So, what is it which makes you different? What makes you worth considering? Or shall I be required to banish you for wasting my time?'

Nyxira Valis

 

[Nyxira Valis]

Nyxira's smirk remained fixed as Darth Malum spoke, his masked visage and veiled dismissal only serving to amuse her further. The storm outside raged on, the rhythm of its thunder punctuating the silence that followed his words. His deliberate posture, the calm precision of his movements, the air of superiority—it was all so... predictable. Yet intriguing, in its own way.

She allowed the moment to stretch, letting the weight of her presence fill the room further. The violet glow of her eyes intensified, flickering briefly as if in time with the crimson lightning outside. When she finally spoke, her voice was smooth, yet carried an edge sharp enough to cut through his feigned disinterest.

"What makes me different?" she repeated, her tone low but resonant, as if the storm itself whispered with her. She took a deliberate step closer, "The same thing that makes you sit there, behind your mask, pretending not to care while you listen. I am not here to beg for your favor, Malum. I am here to offer you a choice."

She gestured faintly, a subtle wave of her hand causing the storm outside to intensify, the lightning briefly illuminating the room in jagged flashes. "The Sith have become too stagnant. Sith Lords who have ruled for decades cling to power unchallenged, and I will never serve a King who does not bleed. Without struggle, there's no growth. No power and no future."

Her gaze locked onto his, unflinching and piercing. "Dromund Kaas is my target. The Kainites have ruled it long enough, their empire rotting under the weight of their complacency. I will shatter their hold and forge something new, something stronger. And you…" She allowed a faint smirk to return. "Could be part of that desire to challenge what's established."

Nyxira moved closer, stopping just short of his desk, her presence bearing down on him like the weight of the storm outside. "I'm offering you the chance to shape the future of the Sith. To align with a force that will not only challenge the old order but destroy it, or die trying. You speak of favor and time, but what I offer is purpose. Power."

Straightening, she let the silence hang, her violet eyes boring into his mask. "I came to you because I recognize your vision. Your potential. But I do not waste my time with those who lack the resolve to act."

Darth Malum of House Marr ​

 

[Darth Malum of House Marr]

She was proving herself every bit the Sith Lord which was promised, alas, she was also proving herself to be as much the kind of Sith Lord that Malum had grown to dislike. Of course such dislike only grew as the smirk remained upon her features, the irony was not lost on him, how naturally the same expression fell upon his features.

He supposed indeed, the arrogant hated none more than the fellow arrogant.

Still, if there was any gain to the conversation, it was all which stemmed outside of words spoken, her stretch served to highlight how tall she was, he imagined that she would rival his own prodigious height easily enough. Yet, what which hidden red eyes concerned themselves with, were the swell and sway of her core.

If that was on purpose or not, was open enough question, but it was enough to draw upon him the ghost of a smile.

He listened quietly, as she spoke, there was only two points which if he had been unmasked would have revealed a raised brow. It was no coincidence that they were intertwined, Dromund Kaas and boldness.

"I believe you have confused a life-long training for politeness for some respect for a woman that I have never met," He countered with an icey tone that shattered the metaphorical blade, another strike of lightning and their faces were made alight, as the thunder echoed along the air, "You claim the Sith have grown too stagnant, yet, we have claimed victory against every one of our foes... indeed it seems to me that the only reason such has not continued is the very infighting that you seek to promote further." The lies concealing his true feelings fell easily enough as spoken words acted as the weapons of this verbal spar.

"I have no desire to serve another, my lady Valis," The smile behind the words spoken were evident, "Yet, you are correct, I have no love for the stagnant, I have no love for those immortal tyrants who send their mortal subjects to death without risk to their own... Dromund Kaas, would be worthy prize indeed, alas, to expend such effort for stranger is hardly an intelligent manouevere, even if to hurt a foe." Musing speech continued effortlessly, "You do not come to me for favour, but a choice, alas, I fear if such is all you will be disappointed, I have no desire to shape the Sith for someone else's vision, neither am I one to compromise my desires."

It was her move.

Nyxira Valis