Break forth, Darth Lykos

[Darth Ophidia]

A place unknown, yet found by those who wished not to be seen. It was a moon known only to those whose masters had taken them there and pushed though their first steps to perfection upon the frozen salt soil of the nameless moon. It was cold, barren, dead, yet alive with the singular, overpowering pressure of the dark side of the Force. It was where the nameless came to die, and the dead lay forgotten.

A storm threatened to roll down from the dark, shard-like mountains that tore at the clouds in the manner of jagged fangs protruding from the maw of a monstrous beast. Flashes of pale-blue lightning tore along the mountain peaks in the horizon, but only a heavy stillness hung over the destination.

A path, framed by monoliths of lost Lords of the Sith, faceless, nameless, failed and doomed to stand a watch everlasting, lead to a hill. Upon the hill jutted the perfect, angular, peak of a pyramid in dark stone. A faint glow of red emitted from the gaping maw of a door, cresting the silhouette of a slender woman in a dark cloak and cowl. Her eyes were fixed upon the distant storm, yet watching the path for the approach of her apprentice. Her hands were on her back, left hand holding the right wrist, and a white serpent lingered on her shoulders, looking into the dark corridor and the faint, red glow within.

The Irridonian Apprentice, Xavka Duquo; it was his time to ascend the steps where his master once had walked. It was time to accept the mantle as Knight of the Sith.

[member="Darth Lykos"]

 

[Xevek Nekonis]

The giant monoliths that towered above him on both sides stared down upon him with heavy, featureless glares that felt as if they penetrated deep beneath his skin, sinking ever deeper until they touched a place within his soul where the malicious maelstrom formed from accepting and embracing the Dark Side resided within his soul. Or, at least, that is the feeling that Xavka got at he slowly, steadily made his way up the path that had been carved into the side of the hill, a deep scar that marred the naturally formed landscape, his cloaked form flitting between the large, pitch black shadows cast by the statues, feet that were bared to the environment sliding over stone with as much ease as if they were covered, as the storm raged on the horizon; arcs of pearl white lightning arced across the sky leaving behind a rich taste that hung heavily in the air, even if the storm clouds only gathered in the distance - around the peaks of the jagged mountains that seemed to tear at the sky as if they were the claws of some imaginable beast.

Despite the distance between him and the dancing lightning and roaring thunder, it was all Xavka could do to fight down the flinches that tried to shiver through his body, his Ceraunophobia trying to break through the usually unbreakable levels of self control that Xavka constantly sought to achieve and maintain; succeed more often than not out of pure will if nothing more. Indeed, it was only through attempting to release his fear out into the Darkness for the intangible, unthinking entity to feast upon, to grow stronger from, that the Zabrak was even coming close to keeping his self control intact; such an action being made all the easier by how prevalent the Dark Side was gathered on the nameless moon. The barren wastelands that covered the surface of the satellite were bereft of life and, as such, no Presences existed to sway the alignment of the moon away from the corruption that spread outwards from the small, stone pyramid that Xavka could currently glimpse from his location; the countless deaths of the weak and unworthy that Xavka could feel echoing within the Force, a warning for what was to come, only served to deepen the connection to the Dark. The effects of the corruption could easily be felt by any being that stepped foot upon the barren moon from how a intangible heaviness settled around your shoulders, whispers of temptation were hissed inaudibly into your ears and every breath of cold wind seemed to pierce into your bones,

Finally reaching the crest of the hill and stopping only a couple of meters away from the silhouetted form of his Master, stepping into the reach of the faint red light spilling forwards from the looming doorway behind the Rattataki Sith, Xavka felt yet another shiver run down his spine. However, this time, instead of this shiver being from his warm blooded body fighting against the grasp of the harsh cold that covered the moon, the tremor that though his body came from the increase in heaviness he felt as he came ever closer to the epicenter of Dark Presence. And, even as the shiver ran down his spine, his lone eye shone with the anticipation of one day being able to wield a power of similar strength.

Moving without any rigidity but much grace had become second nature to the Zabrak now after the exhausting amount of practice that had gone into honing his craft as an Assassin and, as such, it was within one smooth movement that Xavka transitioned from standing at his full height, straight backed, to bowing deeply to the shadowed form of his Master, even as his gaze never moved from staring at her, and back again to his standing position. Halfway through coming up from his bow, Xavka's voice broke the silence between the duo as it growled forwards, gruff from the scars that reached across his throat. A single word was what was spoken, as Xavka saw no point in wasting time nor words on pleasantries or the unneeded; even when it was his Master that he was greeting.

"Master."


[member="Darth Ophidia"]