Private Bewitched

[Pom Stych Tivé]

B E W I T C H I N G​

Tag: Darth Carnifex​

The most intriguing aspect she found regarding him, is the unspoken connection which she hadn't anticipated. Peering into his eyes is like staring into the beginning of the abyss so alluring, where the line is drawn in the sand between the physical realm and the Living Darkside of the Force he commands which fashions his being. And she absolutely loves that aspect. It feels like Home. Mesmerized beyond the barrier mask of his green orbs yet again, he had asked to accompany her back to Dathomir to see it. She had smiled that he would genuinely take interest in her ways.

They had spent much time talking on Dromund Kaas, bonding. She mentioned to him how she moves through her power, like calm amidst the chaos, rather than the way of the Sith whose power is fortified through anger, and he seemed intrigued by her remarks. A portion of how she automatically replied to him however, earned realization that she truly required deeper reflection. He walked her through her discovery.

In addition, she spoke about his Scientists' experiments on the Warlock's Gate performed on Dathomir, and how it affects a radius of the land around it. She knew immediately by his reply, that he was already aware of the strange phenomenon. She understood wholly that he can read her thoughts even before she speaks, and she did not feel the least uncomfortable in this fact.

He wanted to witness what had proliferated out of the experiments organized by his men, and to see how such affects the Magick of the Nightsister Covens. She doubted anyone could have foreseen what had begun happening there.



The Matriarch took his strong hand into her own, and raising the other she tore a doorway between the Halls of Solomon within his Citadel on the planet Dromund Kaas where he had invited her to dwell with him, and the Bone Temple upon Dathomir where she would venture amidst the shadows with her Mielis.



The Bone Temple stood a testament to physical death, and yet represented to the Nightsisters eternal life of the Soul. It stood high above the terrain, just an erection of decaying bones stacked upon one another, in a methodical fashion likened to an insane art. It currently radiated absolutely nothing beyond what struck within one's own consciousness. Pom's first encounter with the Temple occurred when it was hidden behind a large mass of vines. The Temple marked the location were the roots of carnivorous vines interconnected which outstretched far across the land. The carcasses of anyone they trapped and consumed was drawn and stacked here. It's existence is ancient and quite morbid, but Nightsisters don't prohibit nor score their Magick based on a scale of what is considered conscionable before they raise it. How they do perform their rituals upon the Altar set back within the far chamber here, with utmost sincerity and devout worship.

Pom looked up at her Emperor Emeritus to study his face as she stood with him before the Temple structure. "The Witching Hour shall occur soon." For now, its just a construct of meticulously placed bones. Soon, however, something phenomenal occurs.
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[Darth Carnifex]

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The red landscape of Dathomir spread out before him like a tapestry, the sharp red plateaus accentuated by the abysmal darkness of the valleys which crisscrossed between them. Thick clouds roiled overhead, spreading out in a thick blanket that dimmed the light reflecting off of Dathomir's four moons. The loud sounds which echoed across the land were reminiscent of other wild and untamed worlds that he had visited, though the subtle differences in how these native animals sounded marked Dathomir as its own entity.​

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"The beauty of your world continues to impress."​

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Carnifex turned to look at the smaller witch beside him, one who had caught his eye so long ago. She had lost none of her potency, and he had lost none of his desire for her. Some might have classified her as little more than a passing curiosity, another of the once-Emperor's many desires that he had taken into his arms and then abandoned sometime after. He believed differently, there was something about the witch matron which encouraged him to keep her at his side.​

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Besides the child that she had born him, of course.​

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She had taken well to his instruction, grasping the concepts that he had introduced to her fairly quickly. She was a capable pupil as well, eager to learn and not one given to the disposition of failure. Not only that, but she clung to his each and every word. A voracious student as he could find, though she was not a Sith yet.​

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That could still change.​

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Looking up at the towering Bone Temple, Carnifex marveled at its construction. He had seen many ancient temples before, but there were few that could inspire such awe and admiration. "I am eager to see first-hand what you have described, my love. I believe that it will be quite momentous for both of us, as I intend to sow the seeds of another child within you once the anomaly occurs."​

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Pom Stych Tivé ​

 

[Pom Stych Tivé]

B E W I T C H I N G​

Tag: Darth Carnifex​

So smitten she is. So foolish. Yet she harbors no regrets. His words caused her cheeks to reflect the color of her planet. What he had said! Why they would be right here at the altar of the Bone Temple! She had heard stories of what other matriarchs did in the Temples, while they…it did lend a magnanimous connection to their God, but they were never tales of her! She would spoil him the only way she knew how. He is her addiction.​

She shall discover just how serious he is or if he only teases so. "Perhaps you aren't imagining the whole picture," she replied with a coy smile she just cannot contain, "but…" Her eyes lit with delight as she suppressed a giggle and found she could not finish her sentence. "Soon enough," she promised finally, looking him over while she spoke. She wondered if that had ever been done before, generating life out of death; such simply did not sound holy.​

Never was there a Witching Hour that passed where the Nightsisters did not use the hour to fortify their Magickal prospects. Even though Pom had been out of their presence, and they did not expect her arrival, the Nightsisters of her coven began arriving at the Bone Temple. Each adoringly greeted their Sith Lord with a curtsey, and their Matriarch they kissed just before each crossed the threshold.​

Dathomir's sun gleamed brightly seconds before slipping under the horizon. Far off in the distance a glistening shot into the sky just above the ridge where experiments began on the Warlock's Gate, which itself lay beyond anyone's direct line of sight. The wind picked up from its direction, and upon it carried the phenomenon of the change his Mistress described. As the sky darkened, the moons hung high enough to grant one ample sight.​

Dathomir suddenly transformed, a portion of her land cast into the Netherworld, taking with her everyone and every living creature within radius around the Warlock's Gate. ​

The trees all around began to crackle under bending limbs, as nearby platform crypts began to empty of their inhabitants, while the corpses of Dathomiri ancestors rose to walk the land once more.​

"I believe its the experiments, along with all the Magick which lingers here. With our ancestors buried here, ages of their spells never die away, and we compile our own upon them." She spoke and her eyes, as always, turned black as coals. "We seek to assure the continuance of such a remarkable feat."​

A placidness overcame her and her body language accentuated a change. His Mistress became touched by the spirit world. From inside, she is called by her sisters to be present, called to perform her duty as their Matriarch. She could refuse them her purpose, no more than she could refuse him his needs. "Come with me, Mielis," she invited him to bond with her in this sacred manner. Pom laced her fingers with his and she stepped with him towards the threshold. The Bone Temple breathed and it began to thump audibly as if alive with the thousands of corpses which comprise it. They were no longer witnessed as dried bones, but living flesh and blood conjoined.​

As she led her Lord Adored within the Bone Temple, heads of the departed turned to follow the rare site. The dead astounded by the embodiment of Darkness which would lend power to commit the abominations of the Nightsisters this night.​

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[Darth Carnifex]

The once-Emperor watched the transformation which overtook Dathomir with rapt curiosity, for it had never been observed anywhere else in the galaxy. The limbs of trees writhed as if animated by living intention, the spirits of the dead materialized near the earthen cairns where their mortal coils lay rotting. The clouds whirled overhead, the moons dominating the night sky like a terrible beacon of foreboding. The necrotic energy of the Netherworld, the realm of the dead, suffused the land as the scientists near the Warlock Gate conducted their regular experiments, their instruments gathering more and more data as they toyed wantonly with the rift.​

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He reached out and intertwined his fingers with that of Pom's, an amusing sight considering the vast difference in their statures. He followed her into the Bone Temple, which had become filled with the other witches that followed their mistress in this ritual. Their eyes were upon both of him, himself a foreign entity in this sacred ground tread upon by only witches for generations.​

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It was a momentous privilege.​

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He untangled his fingers from hers, letting both of his hands fall upon her shoulders as he began to meticulous peel away her articles of clothing. He made a meal out of the occasion, every action of his designed to be sensual and alluring. He tossed aside each scrap of her garment, reducing Pom down to only her bare skin which became pricked with goose-pimples in the cold dead air. His hands reached out to now disrobe himself, casting aside his cloak and tunic to reveal his scar-kissed flesh. Black tattoos in the runic language of the Sith crisscrossed his broad muscular torso, trailing around to his back and further down towards his groin. He discarded his other articles of clothing just as quickly until both of them were standing bare before one another.​

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Without effort he picked her up, taking her to the altar of their communion. The light of Dathomir's moons shone through the entryway of the temple, illuminating their joining as the other witches stood in silent witness. The Dark Side roiled in anticipation, their every action magnified by the powerful otherworldly energies which freely reigned across the land. ​

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And when the ritual ended, and the once-Emperor stood above Pom, sweat glistening off of his toned physique, it would be known that she was now burdened with child.​

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Pom Stych Tivé ​

 

[Pom Stych Tivé]

B E W I T C H I N G​

Tag: Darth Carnifex​

She held her senses solely upon him while she slowly led him to the backroom where her coven gathered around the sacred altar. Within the darkened corridor, the breath of the living Temple drew so very powerfully, to tousle her hair back and forth over her shoulders. No mere man would possess nerve enough to continue. Here, amidst the dripping of such magnificent magickal forces, her Nulis would perceive a complete oneness with her, with the heart of Dathomir and her precious Gate, with everyone present whom Pom deemed Sisters. Her Lord could decide that the Darkside of the Force decreed what would manifest here. The Nightsisters saw it a tad differently, for they actively awakened their Fanged God who rained down his own energy upon his faithful within his Temple. Her god is a living deity, who blesses their worship by agreeing to cooperate with the coven, sharing his profound connection to the Darkside of the Force.​

Pomstychtivé held onto her Lord tightly inside the altar chamber. The Spirit of Ichor illuminated the darkness herein, producing out of the altar. It streaked across the entire room. The energy coiled and writhed with life.​

The pulsing glow of the energy visually caused physical boundaries to disappear. Everything that manifested here formed from an ethereal state of existence. From within the Warlock's Gate great power surged, and it enticed the Fanged God to mingle with it.​

Pom stood with Lord Carnifex, her Will locked on his intentions. They were completely encircled by her chanting sisters. The Dark Lord's connection to the Darkside of the Force radiated within the chamber and intermingled with what manifested here. He magnified what is already remarkable, to beyond cognitive deciphering. His Nightsister swayed upon her heels before him. The embodiment of the Darkside in human form, he never could know rejection, never from his faithful! His Mistress held her breath while she melted at his touch. Her individuality fell away.​

When Carnifex finished the action he decreed, she relented further to satisfy her instincts, permitting the Force to levitate her body into the air. From her lips drew out twelve streams of black smoke which dropped down around the altar. They are twelve ancestral Matriarchs of the Wanica. Slowly the spirits took form and stood tall, dressed in black tattered.robes. The last development would be their faces, pale and quite beautiful.​

The thirteen Witches began to guide the coven to focus their power into one unified projected magical Ichor, where all of their magickal desires would proliferate here and now. The coven together worshipped their god, who permitted them to worship their Dark Lord as his physical representative. Never before had their god been presented by such pure and magnificent a Dark Force. Never before had the Dark Lord of the Sith come to Dathomir during the Witching Hour. His Mistress so obviously adores him, he can rest assured!​

The Nightsisters are indeed immensely grateful for their long running opportunity to be affected by the existence of this Warlock's Gate! They expressed such, proven by how they doted upon him over the next hour. And when the Witching Hour completed, they would not cease, lifting him to a plateau he likely never experienced.​

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[Darth Carnifex]

The stars and moons wheeled overhead, dancing in concordance with the movement of their bodies in the cool air. Though the ritual had long since concluded, the witches and their suitor did not cease in their activities until well beyond the first light of morning crept over the distant horizon. There Carnifex sat upon the stone steps leading to the altar, the sweat-slickened bodies of over a dozen Dathomiri witches sprawled out about him. ​

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Their night's sabbath had been as intense as it was intimate, the conjoining of so many individuals within a short period of time.​

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Rising, Carnifex summoned his clothing back to his hand, though he did not redress yet. He turned back to look at the assembled witches, and an idea began to creep steadily into his mind. They had given themselves to him willingly, and he in turn had infused them with a fragment of his essence. They were now totally devoted to him, and in that, he saw an opportunity to advance his interests. ​

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"Witches of Dathomir, my coven of the night. In our union, we have forged a bond that transcends mere flesh. You now stand at the precipice, and I would ask that you kneel. Your mistress Pom has shown you the way, and you will join her in worship."​

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Worship of him, total slavish devotion. ​

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And in return, he would give them life.​

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Pom Stych Tivé ​

 

[Pom Stych Tivé]

B E W I T C H I N G​

His Mistress is the conduit between the realms. She exists as the Medium between her lord and her devoted coven, and became so caught up in feeding emotion and sensation carried upon the exchange of Ichor, that at some time during the night all Pomstychtivé could do is writhe from the altar chamber. Throughout the night, her mind willingly and easily slipped into the heart of the very source of the experience, the Darkness. She would muster plenty enough willpower to adore him each time he reached for her.

The Fanged God reigned here, and when all was satiated, and magick set in stone, the demigod blessed Carnifex with a gift in return for his willing participation in their union. What better representative could he have chosen? As the Dark Lord rose upon the night’s completion, the twelve spirits of the Nightsisters’ ancestors, the Wanica, transcended from their physical manifestation and returned a state of apparition. Each leapt one by one into the body of his Mistress to slumber under her protections.

At the unexpected direction of the Dark Lord's proposal, the Nightsisters who remained perked up to sit upon their heels along the base of the altar which he had just descended. The similarities between Lord Darth Carnifex and the masculine god of Dathomir did not escape their notice. The Dark Lord poured out an abundance of Darkside energy. These Nightsisters have yet to discover the difference between he and the Fanged God. They had never been off Dathomir to learn that their own God has no reach beyond her. They glanced between one another, and back towards their Matriarch, perched mightily weary, but exhibiting curiosity of her own, from her place atop the stone altar behind them.

These women know how to appease their worthy men. Were their Lord any lesser being, they would have answered him that they had already worshipped him adequately enough; yes? The Dark Lord, after going the distance, for the Nightsisters granted him far more than an inch, sought to gain an extra mile here today. It seems to be however, not any terrible development; those present do indeed feel a mutual connection has formed, which promises the potential for currently unimaginable gains in return to themselves, where most men possess little next to nothing to offer them. Most men are not permitted to live, after so much as requesting a moment of companionship with a Witch.

Their Mistress, as excited as she became for them in their situation, felt on fire to the core of her very bones after the magnitude of Ichor that had assaulted her body. Their Dark Lord would surely see to it to bring her to tears with his added request. If she tried to rise she would surely slump to the floor. The Dark Lord intentionally returned her from the state of unconsciousness quite a few times during the length of their ceremony, and rescued her from the brink of insanity.

In spite of it, she smiled back at them, praying to sleep the rest of her day without interruption. Even the cold stone block seemed to offer her comfort. Once again the Matriarch outstretched her arms before them, and the coven did the same action to complete the circuit, with Lord Carnifex in the mix…

Mentally, Pomstychtivé fed their Lord the emotions and thoughts of the coven, having honestly no inkling of his intentions.
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[Darth Carnifex]

"Good," cooed Carnifex, every word malicious smooth as it dropped into a raspy whisper.​

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His voice seemed to emanate from every corner of the room rather than coming directly from Carnifex himself. The shadows lengthened in the temple, growing longer as they seemed to be drawn towards the Sith Lord rather than following any natural trajectory. Standing tall and bare before the assembled witches, Carnifex raised both of his arms as the shadows began to crawl up his naked flesh. Higher they roamed, practically covering the Sith Lord in darkness blacker than pitch before swimming towards the palm of his outstretched right hand.​

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Before their eyes the shadows lept from his skin, amalgamating into a sphere before morphing again into the shape of a dagger. With his left hand, he grasped the shadow-dagger by the hilt, and slowly he drew the blade across the palm of his still outstretched right hand. Black blood oozed up from the wound, bubbling over as each heartbeat compelled more and more acrid liquid to seep out into the open air.​

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"Come, and drink of my blood. In this, you shall establish an eternal covenant."​

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Pom Stych Tivé ​

 

[Pom Stych Tivé]

B E W I T C H E D​

Tag: Darth Carnifex ​

It happened quickly.

The offering.

The ascending of the sisters.

The moment the Dark Lord presented himself, the Nightsisters became overcome. A man, a Sith of great power, nobility…supreme drew his own blood within the Altar Chamber and bid the Nightsisters to have at him. She could not say she ever witnessed the like before. Everything she learned of him surprised her.

All at once the coven became overcome by primal instinct. Their Matriarch rushed into action, Apparating between them and her mate. She could feel the Ichor and his blackened essence fighting to co-mingle. For the Nightsisters, his magick masked that of the Nightsister's most fearsome Spell of all, that of the Blood Trail, an ancient practice which links servants to their Mistress.

Pom looked towards the Dark Lord and she identified sincerity and Will woven within him. She interceded for him, infusing her own Magick with that of the Coven. Neither would be forced to subjugate like a mere animal.

The spell which he lead and the Magick the Nightsisters fused to it will however, be incredibly unpleasant.

For Him his Mistress offered herself as his intercessor, an extent of relief for what he would experience, knowing full well how much the Darkside of the Force is strengthened through pain. Pom reached up and forcefully drew him to her lips. While the witches bore their spell into his being, she warped a dysfunctional sense of sheer pleasure to his increasing pain.

She allowed him to draw her into his sensations. In her mind, she felt herself standing with him at the edge of solid ground, facing into the abyss. Gripping tightly onto him, Pom willingly leapt into the all encompassing Darkness along with him.

The Nightsister feasted upon the generation of power and magnified it, granting a freedom for their dark lord to mold it. The Blood Trail formulates unity, pact, need.

The dark force is suffocating, Pom marveled, determining it therefore glorious! "What do you imagine we shall accomplish hand in hand, my lord?" she asked. She felt an incessant longing to garner so much more, and yet with each passing day, so much more became introduced to her. The Fanged God reached into Carnifex's personal abyss, and gripped hold of the Nightsister. Pom stared back at the Dathomiri demigod with a sternness and spat. "You couldn't even dwell among your devoted without enlisting a vessel." The Nightsister discovered a truth regarding the limits of her so-called god, which she had never imagined she ever would; for just months ago she would have called her own beliefs today to be sheer heresy. She replaced her devotion to her god with newfound interest in the most intriguing Sith Lord. He taught things, and as he did so, it was always like she already knew them; she knew them because he welcomed her to know aspects of him. While her god downgraded to a mere tool to be utilized when she had a need.

As Pom stared into the eyes of her mate, the Nightsisters lapped and memorized the taste and smell of the Dark Lord's blood.

There is no turning away.
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[Darth Carnifex]

"Drink deeply of this given vitality, and know all of my wonders."​

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The Nightsisters lapped eagerly at his blood, the acrid blackness seeping into their bodies upon consumption.​

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Immediately, their minds were assaulted by distant visions.​

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Stars, ancient beyond measure, surrounded by clouds of gaseous vapor. The broken ruins of worlds danced a decrepit waltz around these pitiless suns, whatever civilization that once graced their surfaces having been scoured bone-white by radiation and heat. Graveyards of bones stretched for as far as the mind could fathom, the ruins of Empires coalesced into an endless sea of death. Far ahead the light of distant stars were only faint memories, their light blocked out by ever-encroaching darkness. ​

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In rapid movement, the ancient star collapsed in on itself and detonated with the power of creation. All worlds in its purview were wiped away, the slate cleansed of imperfection. The burgeoning light of destruction cast illumination on the darkness which neared, revealed it to not be some amorphous entity, but rather a fleet of tens of thousands of star destroyers. Endless in number, depthless in rank, they scourged the galaxy clean of corruption one system after another.​

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Star and star shattered into nothingness, the galaxy left empty and cold after eons of devastation.​

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Only to be reborn as new stars formed in the absence of the old.​

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The fleet again moved across the empty galaxy, bringing new life to that which had been cleansed. The galaxy was reborn, brought into a new golden era as the fleet now stretched from one end of the cosmos to the other. ​

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One man stood at the head of this armada, one man who had the vision to correct the imperfection of creation and reshape the galaxy in his own image.​

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The man the Nightsisters drank so greedily from, so eagerly from. The one whose fate they were now bound to, a fate in which they were offered a place to stand tall and proud. ​

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"Do you see now?" Carnifex placed both hands gently on Pom's shoulders, squeezing affectionately as he pulled her close to his naked form. "This will be the paradise I shall write into creation, and you shall be one of its mothers."​

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Pom Stych Tivé ​

 

[Pom Stych Tivé]

B E W I T C H I N G​

'Know all of my wonders,' invited the Dark Lord. There had always been secrets concerning a grand scheme for his sacred bloodline to bring peace to the galaxy. Being close with him, Pom knew such depths into his psyche exist. He holds a potential for unimaginable success. Such supports a portion of reasoning she so adores him. What lingers in such depths ought not be stirred, and thus no question has ever been posed regarding his secrets. No thought tarried on contemplation, out of respect for his individuality.

And here it becomes witnessed as his vision for all…

The only way to stop war is to conquer and rule one's self. The Jedi have shown that they do not intend to leave any portion of the galaxy to its own merits. They declare their entire existence superior to that of all others and are clearly the galaxy's terrorists. They disregard their own prophesy for balance in the Force, as they continue to storm across space into the Sith sectors threatening the existence of Darkness itself and all life touched by it. The Nexus here, clearly stands as proof that this is not their place to own!

The Light falls easier unto Darkness, than all Darkness be brought unto Light!

What option has the Sith but to be first at beating them at their own game?

She watched her coven daughters swoop upon him with reckless abandon. They had shared the night with him, now found themselves becoming further enticed by his additional offering. They sought self exaltation as he, a mutual exchange. The way before them now had been paved by the dreams of their Matriarch. All agreed, this Sith very well may be the one to possess the potential to finally satisfy the prophesy of old, that of the Sith'ari.

Is he the savior? Surely such Sith Lord would live forever.

Lord Darth Carnifex 's Mistress' mind danced as visions manifested utilizing the Galaxy's Darkness, while he led her and her Nightsisters on his magnificent trip. Her heart leapt as he spoke promises for her future. He had given her Dathomir when he hadn't even known her. He followed her progress from that moment forward. He called in her debt, and in addition sired her daughter for whom she felt great longing, —a studious child capable of puppeteering a small army of men with her Magickal wiles. More than Pomstychitvé ever dreamed was satisfied by him. She felt more and more endeared each time he offered her more. That he continued to do so time after time, flamed her desire to further satisfy him.

Remembering her humble roots, the Matriarch hoped to build up Dathomir's Nightsisters stronger than history ever depicted. All many before could ever pray for is that her people prevailed. So many threats arose across the galaxy, not all stemming from the Core. All however, exist because her ancestral Dogma is not understood or accepted among the masses. During her time among the Sith, Pom discovered understanding without prejudice, respectful of all manner of expertise. Darkness recognizing like, and it attracting like none other. Sustaining that Magickal Darkness is all that ever mattered to her people.

There is so very much which would never have been revealed to her, had she not come across Lord Carnifex. To answer his statement put to her, all she could respond tenderly slipped from her lips, "Keep me with you."

What more could she desire?​

 

[Darth Carnifex]

Carnifex held the Nightsister close to him, his hands roaming her body as they basked in the glow of his power and vision. He was the goblet overflowing with drink, the streams of dark liquid pouring down his sides and slipping in to fill the empty goblets of the Nightsisters until they too were full. ​

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Drunk on the power of Carnifex, the Nightsisters were dedicated to his will. He would become their new Fanged God, rising above the worship they once dedicated to an idol who had long since passed from sight.​

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He cupped Pom's chin with his hand, drawing her gaze up towards his. ​

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"You will always stand by my side, my most loyal devotee. Walk before me faithfully, and in time you will give rise to legions of disciples. My bond in your flesh is to be an everlasting covenant, and so you shall reject all those who do not share in this bond of flesh."​

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He was the Supreme Being, the axis on which the universe rotated. In the mythology of the Sith, this being was known as the Sith'ari. The legends stated that the Sith'ari would first lead the Sith, and then he would destroy them, before ultimately raising them from death and strengthening them as never before seen. Once upon a time, Carnifex might have rejected such notions as foolish and superstitious, the byproduct of an age of religious fervor. ​

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But now...​

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His mind warped by megalomania, the creeping influence of his solipsism. It was clear now that he believed himself to be the Sith'ari of legend, the one who would rule the Sith and then destroy them, giving rise to a new generation of stronger Sith unrestrained by death.​

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The time would come for him to put his delusions into practice, but he required the most fanatical of servants to carry out his will across the galaxy.​

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And Pom made for the perfect vessel, her devotion to him unwavering. ​

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He whispered to her, his lips brushing against her ear as his power again entered her. "Kruso Sith'ari."​

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Hail the Supreme Being.​

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Pom Stych Tivé ​

 

[Pom Stych Tivé]

B E W I T C H I N G​

Pomstychtivé became delighted when she realized that he is pleased with her.

Upon what greater scale could her devotion be measured, that she not only shares everything she possesses, but multiplies what she can provide through her own intricate magick? In addition, she rendered him her support and sought for him the success and accomplishments he sought for his legacy. The reason why isn't difficult to determine. She is immensely honored to be a part of the meaningful scheme of someone so worthy of reverence.

Her children born unto him, she blessed in ways beyond those most can comprehended. Certain aspects of Darkness, her children would naturally gravitate towards, all because of her constant meditation and spiritual devotion. Her's would follow him, their creator, anywhere he so leads without question.

Her spirit held enraptured by the future he offered. She believed that anyone who gazed into his eyes as she does, should recognize in his gaze exactly the same power she witnesses. Never before had she seen one who bore a single gaze to speak as intensely as his. It resembled the power risen forth out of focussed ritual…the moment a Nightsister meets her god. He never wavered.



Worship him…he encourages.

Oh yes she desires to worship him! She swooned upon her heels as he held her tightly. This region of space is most unique among the vast array of Darkness which envelops the System of Dathomir, only a small portion. Carnifex had taken part in the Nightsisters' Dark ritual; it hardly affected him, as much as it affected the Nightsisters' coven. If anything, it granted him the ability to see himself as Pom declared him, as the Sith'ari. Pom had fore-knowledge of what she would elicit from her ritual. She gave into the voices of the ancients last night when she ensnared him. Through her actions, the Will of the ancients manifested, the siring of Pom's next child. Certainly these spirits had known this Dark Lord while they walked by day. Maybe too they had known him during the fall of night as well. All in all, the ancient Matriarchs sought to lift up the Dark Lord, in a bond of unity with the coven.



There was never much of her lifetime wasted, where she was not truly living in the moment, that she dove right into what magick had risen while he were present. It is also true that she often finds herself with an unhealthy longing when he parts from her. Darth Carnifex is the only one living who could please the Mistress Malcontent. She thoroughly enjoyed observing his mind at work. She loved just knowing she could satisfy him during the moments he is with her. So much passion read in his eyes every second. She realized that while he became the center of her ritual, she had become the center of his own in return.

His Mistress reached up and gently caressed his cheeks between her palms, while she stared deeply into his reflective orbs; here among the darkness, his are a homing beacon for the weary, the yearning. The Nightsisters exalt and also utilize the ones they deem their gods; but she feels how this relationship has suddenly evolved to be far more sacred than she could have imagined. She found that life with him unfolds with wanton abandon.

With the new covenant, there is one being whose energy she still intends to use for her magick, but who stood quite vehemently opposed to his change in station, and intended to impede upon her evolution.

Pom smiled tenderly before she kissed Carnifex. She paused and suddenly withdrew, her thoughts stolen elsewhere. The Fanged God would punish his daughters for their insubordination, through attempting to incite the Dark Lord's fury against them. Confusion overtook her expression as her instinct sparked regarding a presence. Suddenly the Fanged God's Spirit of Ichor leapt from the Nightsister, and sought to encompass the Dark Lord, the occurrence most uncommonly, totally out of her control. She was caught off guard.

"How dare you use my power to bond to this other!" cursed the cruel ancient god of darkness. "And how dare this other seek to covet what has been mine for era after era."

The coven hissed at the sudden appearance of their long standing god. Unaware of the current decisions of their Matriarch they instinctively recoiled from his presence. Instinct however quickly led them to determine the reality of the situation and they stood to defend their Magus. They saw their Matriarch's onyx amulet which for years hung over her heart as the source of the energy assault.

One by one the Nightsisters reached out to grasp hold of the black gemstone, layering their hands about the amulet, that together they might master over it, as the current burned while it coursed through them…​

 

[Darth Carnifex]

He welcomed her embrace, his lips brushing over hers only briefly before she pulled away.​

​

He could sense it too.​

​

Bracing himself, Carnifex watched as an explosion of dark power rippled out from Pom. It was just enough to buffet him back, but not enough to topple him. A foul gale ripped through the temple, scattering loose items as if they were a child's plaything. Pom and himself stood in the eye of the storm, face-to-face with the Nightsister's dark benefactor. It was apparent that the Fanged God, or the creature masquerading as the Fanged God, did not permit such trespass on what he had claimed as his.​

​

Carnifex was unperturbed by this turn of events, it was something he had anticipated could happen. ​

​

Reaching out, Carnifex set his sights on the onyx amulet that Pom had worn for as long as he had known her. Seizing it with the Force, he willed it to fly from her neck and into his outstretched palm. Fingers closed tight around the object, squeezing ever tighter as he willed the power of the Dark Side to lend him the strength to shatter this bauble. It gave way beneath the mounting pressure of his fist and exploded with a burst of Dark Side energy which sent out a shockwave through the temple.​

​

Carnifex then turned his attention to the looming specter, spider-webs of dark red lightning shooting out from his now extended fingers to strike the Fanged God. The wraith was bathed in the powers of the Sith'ari, the full unmitigated might of the Dark Side of the Force put on display. Arcs of electricity shot through the air to strike the empty altar as well, vitrifying the stone and causing it to shatter and explode.​

​

The barrage only ceased when all had settled.​

​

Pom Stych Tivé ​

 

[Pom Stych Tivé]

the
M I S T R E S S
M A L C O N T E N T​

'He will care for us?' the Nightsisters marveled during the onset of the confrontation as the Fanged God appeared. The Coven hardly expected to be protected to any extent by the Dark Lord, while the god over their own planet is insistently cruel even after they freely offered it a life of servitude.

'No manling shall tell us what to do,' this lot griped through gritted teeth at the entity as it threw it's fit. 'Never again!!'

This moment blossomed into an utmost momentous one. Never in the life of either of them would any have believed they would revere another more than they had their Fanged God. Somehow, it just began to feel right to elevate Carnifex. Somehow he had earned the honor. It is their Dark Lord's destiny! The Fanged God's direct attack upon their Matriarch helped greatly to change the mind of each most quickly.

Carnifex tore the amulet from the shielding hands of the Nightsisters. As the chain was stretched until the links tore apart, Pom wailed and doubled over, feeling as if her heart were just ripped from her chest through her throat. Her hands instinctively reached for her neck and she gazed downward at her chest, relieved to learn nothing physically harming suffered unto her. The Nightsisters instinctively moved their hands over her womb to protect her child.

Pom felt suddenly caught up into a dream state. Events only vaguely familiar bombarded her conscious thoughts. Her mind became mesmerized with memories long forgotten, and which had been long ago hidden from her awareness, instilled into the onyx pendant. Dazed, she stood staring off into nowhere in particular, as one swallowed up by a mighty tsunami, amidst the whirlwind created by the Fanged God and the raw energy bombardment of her lord. She suffered visions of her past lives… families… and skills!

The Coven used Pom as a conduit through which they moulded Darth Carnifex 's power, in order that they may join him in his assault of their malevolent god. The coven spread out, their circle bordered the entire room. They began chanting their Spell in unison, infiltrating the mystical great beyond. Carnifex, "He is glorious," raged against the singular being which birthed Darkness, the Fanged God of The Ones. Alone, perhaps a single Nightsister would have succumbed under the weight of magnitude with such raw energy whipped through them; jointly however, they formed a formidable front.

At the onset of a searing pain, Pom turned her back towards Carnifex to join him in facing off their opposition. She raised her hands up and gripped hold of Carnifex's forearms, to aid him in his assault. In unison with her lord, she focussed to strike at her ethereal subjugator.

"Nevermore," the Nightsisters hissed.

Long fed up with their discontent, these witches sought to bind the Fanged God, and they let him know their intentions too. The Bone Temple rocked on its foundation as the bastard moaned, his ego rendered as wounded as his soul. How much he suffered precisely, they would not know, for their Dark Lord succeeded what he set out to do!

As Carnifex raised his assault upon the ancient Dathomir god to an amazing magnitude, Sith Runes burned from the surface of the temple. The beaten god was expelled, when the flesh of the Nightsisters retained the ancient Sith blessings. The Matriarch smiled as she watched on to witness Carnifex destroy it's altar. "This temple belongs to our coven," she sneered. "This altar belongs to the supreme being whom we so choose to exalt!" As Pom turned, likewise the Nightsister Coven raised their gaze towards Lord Carnifex, lifting their arms high in unison, raising power of their own.

The sight of the altar rendered as nothing more than a pile of rubble gave the Matriarch an idea how it ought be rebuilt. A bright smile cast for her Magus, this Mistress wriggled her fingertips and magickally crumbled the remainder of the main altar block into dust. Spirits appeared to tend the command on the wind. The Temple rattled and moaned with activity. The walls of the chamber began to be torn apart and rebuilt. Skulls of murdered invaders bowled across the cold stone floor to gather where the altar had been destroyed. A new monstrosity would become created out of the corpses from enemies to Dathomir, as the Temple's entire construction consists. The Skulls were stacked and crushed one into another to form an altar to their new benefactor.

There is a single common attribute which the Dark Lord may find quite pleasing. The bones which make up his altar had each once belonged specifically to Jedi.​

 

[Darth Carnifex]

Strands of lightning still sparked through the air even as the Sith'ari relented on his assault, the dastardly spirit of the Fanged God having been banished from this temple. Tremors rumbled throughout the temple, knocking the bones for which the temple was named down to the ground. They rolled, one over the other, towards the spot where the altar to the Fanged God once stood. They amalgamated, coalesced, into a new construction which he knew was dedicated to his majesty.​

​

An altar to service the Supreme Being of the Dark Side.​

​

Yet bare of covering, Carnifex approached the altar as it was finished. He reached out to run his hand across the construction, feeling the death of each and every Jedi whose bones now constituted the icon of his worship. The Dark Side of the Force reverberated through it, an umbral beacon of hate and fear.​

​

"You have done well, my faithful."​

​

He called them to his side, arms outstretched to accept them. Outside, a dark object suddenly appeared in the upper atmosphere. It was gargantuan, far larger than any vessel that had ever graced Dathomir in thousands of years. It was Malsheem, the secret throneworld of the Sith'ari, and the epicenter of his vast secret Shadow Fleet. They would be able to see if overhead, looming large like another moon.​

​

"Your temple shall join mine, and your worship will know no limits. The powers of the Dark Side of the Force will be at your beck and call, and none will be able to diminish your standing before me."​

​

Pom Stych Tivé ​

 

[Pom Stych Tivé]

the B E W I T C H I N G​

His Mistress stood present in the moment, her mind reeling in thought and emotion over the sudden turn of events. With his words of acknowledgement, her purpose became affirmed in that she had pleased him yet again this day. As he offered her further inclusion into his empire, she never would have imagined that their original treaty would have been ratified to this extent.

Mother of his children.
A place in his future galaxy, offered to her family, those who matter in her life.

She marveled how her coven adapted, accepting of the new development. How easily they gave up their ancient god; probably not so difficult because he was ever so malevolent. They seem so resilient, moreso than she at their young age, Pom raised under the iron fist of orthodox doctrine.

They followed her lead, religiously.

Her responsibility to them she did not take lightly. That her Lord accepted them as wholly intimately as he had, pleases Pom greatly. Until last night, her life was divided between two homes. At this very moment, he offered to close that gap.

The magnitude of trust extended, surpassed the Matriarch's anticipation. Her coven recognized their blessing in what Darth Carnifex offered. That her amulet is finally destroyed, not a single painful memory which Pom recovered in all her incarnations, in all their emotional onset could come close to overshadowing how deeply she became moved by the turn of events.

The seeding of his next son.
Malsheem, a secret he kept up until this moment.

His actions signified for her an act of passage. She felt acceptance, and it immediately and deeply humbled her to her core. This Nightsister's vision blurred through a well of tears.



From the synth-planet Malsheem, a large disc descended, casting its shadow over their location. As it hovered above the Temple, a powerful stream of energy shot out from the disc's edges to slice through the ground with ease. The vines which built this shrine writhed, recoiling towards the bone stacked walls of this mysterious haunted place. A large plot of land was encircled and gathered up into a force field dome to be lifted from this holy land. Included in it, are the very burial scaffolds which were not long ago vacated by the twelve ancestral Matriarchs who melded with Pomstychtivé.

As she marveled at the ordeal, Pom wondered if the Bone Temple would still come to life while up on Malsheem, as it undergoes during the Witching Hour inside the reach of the Warlock's Gate. The phenomenon soothes her soul so, much like normal people are overcome with serenity standing upon the coastline contemplating the magnitude of the ocean, beautiful and so very deadly.



As the bio-dome began its climb to join Malsheem, and while their Lord eagerly embraced her coven daughters, Pom stood apart from their huddle. She reached instead for his hand and grasped hold of it. The Nightsister bowed her head and slowly lowered onto one knee. Locking eyes with him in her state of submission she touched his fingertips to her puckered lips. In her tender kiss, she willingly accepted a drop of his blood roll over her tongue.

She has three words for her beloved. Three words not often expressed. Three words so rarely even felt, that she often forgets the possibility such a state can even exist. Three words that when she does feel so, the emotion is so profound it is immediately recognized enough to greatly overcome her whole state of being.

She spoke those three words to her beloved, "I am content."



The Holy Temple is hereby named Ji Tik Valzino, 'her only god,' a personal sanctuary to be utilized to honor the sacred Sith'ari.
​