Bryn'adûl | Tesham Mutna

[Tathra Khaeus]

​Somewhere in Wild Space
​Tesham Mutna - Hightower of the Zealots

​In truth Tathra had only been at Tesham Mutna once before, when he previously oversaw the institutes construction and left the finalisation in the hands of his protégés. Today, his visit had as much to do with the institution of the Zealots themselves as it did with the progress of his progeny.

​Vaynala had been with the Zealots for some time, but not long enough for the Chieftain himself to be satisfied with leaving her entirely unsupervised. She bore his name, and thusly represented him. Represented the strength of his seed, and he would not allow weakness to be conjured within Vaynala due to any neglect on his part.

​The Frigate that Tathra had travelled on was nothing of particular note. It hung in the sky, releasing several Ra'mak Carriers to deliver supplies to the Hightower. Tathra would soon leave the frigate to arrive at the hightower aboard one, yet he lingered. Procrastination was sometimes instinctual, perhaps he needed a moment longer. His body was still recovering, he could feel it.

But on a physical and mental level he was more powerful than ever before, however the severance from the force; feeling a part of himself torn from his very being had left a mark. There was an awareness, a mortality that gripped at him. Perhaps the sight of his kin would sooth that turmoil or at the very least shift his focus from some fickle distractions.

​Once on the ground below, there was a buzz in Tesham Mutna. The news of his arrival was hushed, but quickly gossip brewed. What else could be expected of assassins. The Chieftain passed by the others, unwilling to acknowledge the majority of the onlookers. He gave word for his Daughter to be sent to him.

​He'd chosen her residence within the tower as the place of meeting. He arrived first.

​The room was by in large, quiet. It's walls were hardly adorned, and the shelves held historic literature and documented discussion on the mantra of brutality. Little more of interest held his gaze, bar one element. Tathra knelt, observing the bizarre implementation.

​A plain sheet of grass. He remembered now, when Vaynala had been incredibly young - he had taken her with him on multiple ventures, typically domestic matters for the sake of education. As he recalled it, every time Vaynala required a place of residence - a small space was cornered off and grass grew from the soil. Tathra saw it as the impish acts his cub's spoilt mind. But, time and time again he watched the grass grow.

​Eventually, he understood what Vaynala had understood from her conception. No matter how steep, the ability to rise is always possible. Grass always grew, no matter what terror had scorched the plains, grass endured. That was what it meant, and why a small area was sectioned off in his own residence on Draemidus Prime. The memory brought upon a minutely softer visage, the intense glow of his eyes fading slightly as a relaxation quelled enduring aches.

​Tathra stood, the familiar scent catching his attention.

​Vaynala.

​| [member="Vaynala Khaeus"] |​

 

[Vaynala Khaeus]

Time.

[SIZE=11pt]It helped the grass grow out from mere dirt as long as it was watered by nature, or in this case, nurtured by someone who cared enough to see it grow. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]And Vaynala had grown as well, taught in the ways of a Zealot, even with the durability of a Draelvasier- a Baedurin no less -she had been challenged to a breaking point, her last name ensured that much, but she had been expected of much more.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]The grass had grown unchallenged, given light, given water and given the needed attention to provide both. Vaynala Khaeus had to earn her right to the light, had to fight for water, and had to prove that giving her the attention needed to teach an adequate assassin was worth it.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]The last name, Khaeus, it wasn’t so much of a gift- much rather, it was a curse for all those too weak to bear it. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]She had not died yet and weakness did not prevail in the Hightower, she walked the halls, alive, scarred but proven her worth for now. Yet everything she had achieved would be tested by the mere presence of her father.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]His presence wasn’t just a test of her worth as a Zealot, what he thought, his judgement and belief, that would prove if she had enough worth to still breathe. Not even the most experienced masters could ensure her future, all the literature within their grasp couldn’t give her the knowledge to justify herself. All this effort and pain put into training her, it was all to prove if she had any worth to HIM.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]And that stress and fear could be felt as he had stood up. Her body was still, standing behind him, quiet as she could be.[/SIZE]

[member="Tathra Khaeus"]

 

[Tathra Khaeus]

​Tathra did not turn to face her, allowing the moment to prolong. He could smell her, the anxiety she felt ebbing outward to meet the stern silence that he conveyed. His brow furrowed slightly, acknowledging her restless nature with some surprise. He had come to find a proud warrior, not a fumbling child awaiting his approval.

​Still, one did not exclude the possibility of another. But he could not disregard how easily she allowed her weakness to swell within her, all emotions were a tool. None were to be expelled from the body, but to allow them control was to deride yourself of integrity. He knew that, intimately.

​His mass anchored, each footstep hundred feet deep as if the sound of every footfall was born from deep in the earth itself. His daughter stood just beyond him, a little smaller than he was; but even then his form was broader, thick with scars and built. His chest, layered with a deep cobalt plate that only barely concealed the masterfully crafted musculature underneath.

​His arms themselves were nearly as wide as her waist, her lithe form complemented her agility and prowess as an Assassin. But it made her little more than the child she was but three years ago. His eyes glow, fluorescent ambiance encircling orbs that peered at his kin. A flash of her as she was birthed crossing his mind, stricken to the back of his mind quickly as he observed her. Well kept, and orderly.

​He waited, expecting his daughter not to forget he was also her Chieftain.

​| [member="Vaynala Khaeus"] |​

 

[Vaynala Khaeus]

The size of Tathra was enough to cause fear, a warrior of intimidating scale that could break her limbs as if they were mere twigs. Vaynala had no eyes, but she didn't need sight to move through the environment, detecting objects and people through noise and vibrations. It was as if she could feel the weight of each step itself, how the surface quaked under the weight of each step her father made. Even if an entire city had been bustling around them with various aliens and machines, of vehicles and wild beasts, she would still be able to detect those steps. It became impossible to forget them as she got older, the stories she was familiar with regarding her father and the achievements he had made were something she'd admire at first hearing them, but when the realization that her name meant she was expected to achieve the same level of success and brutality as he had...Those expectations, much like her father and each step he'd make, had become rather frightening.

But the Zealots with their brutal training had rid much of that fear, though what fear remained was often circulating the topic of him.

"Chieftain." Her voice sounded as if she had a mask covering her, as could be expected of her exoskeletal structure covering her face "I was told," she paused, even though it was only for a second- was it wrong to give explanation why she was here? Her mind raced for a minute, but even as fear coursed through her body, she tried to keep a confident appearance. Even for a Draelvasier and a Baedurin, her emotions still had a way of overcoming her more monstrous and instinctual behavior when facing the Chieftain. "-told, to meet you here."

And she hadn't moved a step, keeping her arms at her sides, 'staring' right at him with her faceless plating, wearing what could be expected of a Zealot. Everything Tathra witnessed was what once could expected out in the field, though if that would be enough was still up to his judgement...

[member="Tathra Khaeus"]

 

[Tathra Khaeus]

​Her movements were so subtle, but it clearly portrayed a mixture of pride and cautious anxiety. Her clean carapace stood adjacent to him, shifting slightly as she began to spoke. Her mind was racing, perhaps she was confused or anxious.

"I was told,-told, to meet you here."

Fear was a natural flow of emotion, he would not diminish her for it, but rather press upon it. How she adapted, was what was important. He remained silent for a moment, glancing unfavourably at his daughter for a moment - allowing his harsh features to boil into her. He lightly grunted in a response to her stutter, only a few moments later - pacing a single step to the right of her.

​"Daughter." ​He spoke, critically observing her.

​| [member="Vaynala Khaeus"] |​

 

[Vaynala Khaeus]

The armor clasped to her form was what to be expected from a Zealot, perhaps a bit less plating then to be expected and more cloth and markings, having been customized over the course of her training. Though 'customized' in the sense of having been battled tested, and whatever could not be kept intact or whatever she thought was unnecessary was removed. And on that armor was harnesses and pouches, various straps not only to keep it together, but to keep weapons and ammunition on her during battle. A mere spike rifle and glaive, the spike rifle was rather generic and been through her training without much of a scratch. Though the glaive had been bloodied- though not covered in blood, it had clearly been through the grindstone more then once, the metal sharpened over and over. The pole had various marks scratched into it, as if having blocked the sharp edge of other weapons.

It seemed tempting to reach for one of those weapons right now.

She was able to gather enough confidence to speak towards her father once again, the sheer thud of each step echoing into her senses. "My training is almost complete, it wont be much longer until I'm to meet our enemies in battle." Vaynala continued to try and justify herself in the eyes of the Chieftain, it seemed she was going to continue but...was too caught up in his presence to try and explain any further.

[member="Tathra Khaeus"]

 

[Tathra Khaeus]

​​Tathra's expression was almost entirely neutral, one of slight disdain as deadened eyes sat upon his Daughter. Her comment did not even register the flicker of expression on a single feature of his face.

"If mere social conduct deteriorates your performance..- ​Tathra allowed the pause to drag, taking a singular step closer - looking down at his daughter now. ​-How can you hope to maintain focus in an active combat field, especially essential when operating as a Zealot, separate from the main Bryn'adûl forces." ​Tathra's tone betrayed his lacklustre face, circling her with hands clasped.

​Tathra wanted to test her, to push her. And, he was genuinely interested in her retort. Her records portrayed a prestigious Warrior, but Tathra required more. He demanded more, more than anything - her intelligence was in question.

​| [member="Vaynala Khaeus"] |​