Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos

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Private Apprenticeship || Genesis of Greatness


G E N E S I S
LOCATION - The Mors Mons, Sith Academy
TAGS - C Cygnus of House Marr
370d9lz.png


The selection of an acolyte was never an easy task, for the acolytes or the lords. For the acolytes, especially in the days of empires past, success or failure meant the same as life and death. For tor lords, choosing the right acolyte to make an apprentice of was as vital to their future as it was the acolyte's; every lord of the sith aspired to find the perfect apprentice, who complemented their own skills in such a manner that, when united, there wasn't a single weakness to be found, but did not contrast so heavily that they could not be taught.

It was where the Jedi and the Sith had a fundamental divergence, the Jedi trained their younglings in the basics of all things, releasing them to their masters to be influenced heavily. The Sith trained it's acolytes till adulthood, till they were set in their ways and proficient in their disciplines. The Dark Lord, Darth Helonus, had himself taken to finding an apprentice as of late. Truthfully, he had waited a deal longer than he should have; he might've taken an apprentice when he was a knight, many years ago. Instead, he had waited.

Rayden would be remiss if he said he cared much for the lengthy process the academy would put him through, waiting for a group of acolytes to be ready for selection, even though his claim superseded that of mere lords and knights, and then waiting for the overseer to give the advantage to their pride and joy, running the acolytes through carefully catered tasks and trials to ensure only one excelled.

It was most fortuitous that his new ally, the apprentice of the Dark Lady and Grand Tribune, Ophidia, had sent a prospective relative to him. A cousin named Cygnus, if the Dark Lord's memory served him, a task it never failed in. He had sent for the young Marr, summoning him to the The Mors Mons, the Emperor's personal flagship, upon which he had a sizeable chambers reserved for him. It was not in his chambers that he waited for his apprentice-to-be, however. He had palaces in three Jutrand Districts, and similarly grand estates on multiple planets which he could have used, if he wished to inspire awe.

No, he called him to the flagship's state-of-the-art academy.

It was there, in one of the academy's many multipurpose training rooms, that the Dark Lord waited. Surrounded by an eerie silence, knelt down in meditation with his lightsaber and mask laid out before him, robes spread out on the floor like a gallon of spilt shadow.
 

G E N E S I S
LOCATION - The Mors Mons, Sith Academy
TAGS - C Cygnus of House Marr
370d9lz.png


Still. He was unnaturally still.

Knelt down on the cold metal floor of the training room, he did not flinch at the hiss of the door, did not shudder for breath in the bitingly cold room- No, even as his new apprentice humbled himself opposite the Dark Lord, he did not react; not at first, not till the subtle hiss of the only entrance closing and locking itself faded to silence.

It was then, and only then, that the Dark Lord rose to his feet, black robes flowing from him like long shadows. His movement had been simple and silent, save for the hollow rapping of his armour as it made contact with the floor. With a wordless exhale, the cold emptiness of the room turned to something far worse; the room was filled, if only spiritually, by the darkness that resided within the red-skinned sith, built up like water in a dam during his meditation.

It played on every sense, and then some, contaminating the air and filling the lungs of all who breathed it. For all who were not intimately acquainted with the Darkness, it felt as though every breath was of fire, and then every beat of their heart pushed boiling magma through their veins. If one was, however, acquainted with the Darkness, the sensation was more akin to wading through the cool mist of a waterfall on a broiling mid-summers day. A truly epic sensation.

"Cygnus, of House Marr; my apprentice." Rayden stated, his Imperial accent stressing the syllables, rolling the young man's present destiny off his tongue like a stone down a hill. "As you should well know, if young Malum has done his duty, I am Darth Helonus; your master."

"I will waste no time in informing you that I am not a complacent master. You will give me your all if you are to flourish."
he lead in, spitting the word complacent as though it was poison on his tongue. "Do not be mistaken; if you withhold yourself, even fractionally, I will guarantee no safety net, offer no guiding insight or hold out a helping hand."

Rayden paused, turning his devilish, golden gaze down to meet the crimson-eyed man. "Satisfy that mere condition, and I can guarantee you that you will not find a better master in the whole of our Empire." he said, a tone of reassurance filtering through, if only briefly.

"Stand and unfold yourself, boy, and tell me of yourself. I wish to hear your story, your aspirations, your desires. Tell me what it is you seek from me as a master." he said, gesturing for the young Marr to rise and, with the same movement of his hand, calling his lightsaber to his hand, weighing it perfectly. "Do not fret to ask questions of me, apprentice. You are entitled to know my claims, my legacy and all." the Dark Lord continued, tone perfectly calm yet carrying an air of inherent superiority.
 

G E N E S I S
LOCATION - The Mors Mons, Sith Academy
TAGS - C Cygnus of House Marr
370d9lz.png


"A warrior?" he repeated, simply, "You wish for victory, for power, for fear. These I can provide you." the Dark Lord promised, beginning to pace slowly around the young man, like a predator around prey. "I can transform you into an immortal soldier, a crushing fist, a flawless fearmonger." he paused, just behind his apprentice, his tone taking a lecturing, almost mocking, snarl.

"
These things are within my power, if you wish to be nothing more than another abomination in my house of horrors." Rayden warned, before continuing his pace till he was in front of Cygnus once again, scowl set deep in his face. "Make no mistake, the Dark Side is a foul thing, a twisted perversion of all that is good and natural. It preys upon the weak, the ambitious, the undisciplined- It preys upon you."

"Without care, without a proper temperament, you will be nothing more than a scarred and decrepit mess, a pathetic creature reliant on your most vile and disgusting passions for survival."

He took a momentary pause, eyes closing as he breathed deep, scowl fading from his face as he composed himself once more. Raising his gaze back to meet the young man's, Darth Helonus considered him a moment, as if weighing a decision. "If you are to be my apprentice, then you will learn patience, for without it your pursuit of power would cripple you before you became worthy of my concern."

"Your first task is to study one of the Eternal Saints; search the database till you find one who aligns with you." Helonus said, turned to face his apprentice as he returned to his meditative pose. "Return to me once you feel as though your knowledge will withstand my scrutiny."

"
Go."

 

G E N E S I S
LOCATION - The Mors Mons, Sith Academy
TAGS - C Cygnus of House Marr
370d9lz.png


The Dark Lord maintained his silence as his young apprentice took his leave, departing to fulfil the task assigned to him. As the door hissed shut, the assiduous Sith allowed himself a wry smirk, for his own unforeseen fortune; if his observations were any measure of certainty, then the Marr lineage lived up to the legacy of their forebear. Each powerful in their own right, with a dedication and fire rarely seen amongst the youngbloods of the order.

A fire that burnt especially bright in his apprentice, restrained and checked by the man's own willpower. Helonus would be a poor Dark Lord if he could not sense the aggressive fluctuations in Cygnus' temperament, the urges he had, however momentary.

- - -

As Cygnus made his way into the librarium, he might note the grandness of it, and the near-incalculable mass of physical tomes and holocrons kept within, even if most were locked away, exclusively for the lords of the Sith and those doing their bidding. What was more odd, however, were the number of acolytes and apprentices studying; amongst them, a select few lords could be found browsing the archives.

All these things were of varying importance, but foremost amongst the features of the library was a centralised database, a terminal permitting access to all unrestricted resources within the grand archive. The apprentice, should he choose to use the terminal, would find himself promptly shoulder-checked by a lord of the Sith; not a Darth, if his attire was of any indication, but his trademark superiority gave away his superior standing and arrogance.

"Move, boy." the lord spat, pausing and half turning to meet the eyes of the apprentice, whom stood above the lord by a matter of inches. The lord in question was red-skinned like Helonus, but in an altogether different way, the prominent horns on his head a giveaway as to his origins; a Devaronian of orangish complexion and sharp features.

The lord, though an obstacle, was just one unexpected trial on the path to the terminal, which might present the young apprentice with a selection of the most prominent of the Eternal Pantheon;

Tulak Hord, the Lord of Hate and Master of Gathering Darkness.

Darth Bane, the Lord of Two.

Naga Sadow, the Lord of Sorcery and Eater of Suns.

Ajunta Pall, the Father of Rebellion.

Darth Vitiate, the Eternal Saint.


These options, while prominent, were not the only ones, with the terminal offering insight into the entire pantheon, as prescribed to the young Marr, and many Sith of varying relevance not included in the pantheon.
 

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