Private Crepuscule

[Spasa]

Destiny's Volition​

Tag: Darth Carnifex

'How do you decipher what direction you should take, during a time when every dream you have is tarnished nightmarish and your every instinct is crying out to you in forewarning? What kind of life would it be, to never take another step out of unforeseeable fear?' Spasa pondered while inscribing her journal.

'Fear grips not those of the Light aside from a fleeting manner. This is not a fleeting manner, but persistent. Clearly it is prophetic. But what lies at the root?'

"I'm slipping."

What scares a well practiced Nightsister? Her ways during her past had been adept and unmoving, with complete disregard to compassion necessary for adequate execution. She made choices regarding what had to be done, for herself, for her people. What scares a Nightsister surely could be simply the idea of an anomaly, or specifically an abomination which clearly ought not physically or spiritually exist. Unnerved and no idea as to why, can only mean that what is understood to exist is all manner of the unseen. The spirits, angels and demons, devils, elementals and demigods, all forced to prostrate and provide for the Nightsisters upon her calling, returning to her while she no longer uses them. What could there possibly be left to fear to step out from among the unknown?

'Perhaps its something which rests outside of my sorcery.'

There should not be fear stirring in one who has studied extensively in the art of the Light under a number of Jedi Masters first Cedric Grayson , then Jax Thio . Spasa, born a Nightsister, never lived to conjure the depth of darkness which her hands are capable, as was explored by PomStychTivé. Spasa is the surviving twin Soul torn from her darker half, who lived apart from her counterpart. Spasa, the good twin, doppelgänger, the epitome of Light intentionally cast by the wayside by PomStychTivé, who sought desperately to obliterate her Light, so that she could converge deeper within the Darkest Arts. PomStychTivé had loved, and she had grieved, forcing her survival instinct to cut ties with her own heart. Spasa did not make such foolish mistakes.

Spasa never could have imagined the magnitude of death rendered through Sith Magick which had been revealed to Pom, and yet compared to similar dark magick she cast in her past, such could not cause her hairs to stand up along the back of her neck as they are.

"Perhaps its the mere idea of having an inborn ability to conjure Magick without much more effort than thought." If Pom could fall, so could Spasa who is one and the same. "Environment and experience made all the difference between us."

Upon the initial outcast of her Light, the tearing of her own Soul, Pom trapped Spasa within the Nether, in its doom and gloom, but despite all of its effort to break her spirit, still her Light prevailed. Spasa, even then, had not lost all hope and given in entirely to fear.

'Months ago,' she wrote, 'rumors reached me that Pom had been vanquished by her own spell gone horribly wrong.' Spasa did not know the details, the depth of debauchery necessary to take down the Nightsister Queen. Neither did she know of Jax Thio 's hand in it all, how the Jedi Master had ambushed and fought PomStychTivé when she was on a hunt for potion ingredients to save the bastard Sith Carnifex. The violent engage caused the Nightsister to drop her ingredients. Jax had stealthily switched out one of her most crucial herbs cast upon the ground for a common imposter imbued with a Sleeping Time Bomb Spell. The ingredient destroyed the Nightsister's ability to recover from a grandiose spell she had cast in unison with Nightsister covens stretched across Sith Space. This Jedi eventually fell to his own inherent dark compulsion, and personal enemy to Pom or not, the Witch won; Jax Thio broke.

Having lost track of her mentor after his commitment to battle, and not keen at all as to his condition nor whereabouts, Spasa had a pact with Jax and Jairdain that if all communication had been cut continuously for a number of weeks, she would seek refuge within a specific Jedi Temple left standing amidst a long forgotten city, where not much was rumored to be going on for this currently neutral political planet. Each promised to meet up here to reunite.

Spasa sat in her small accommodations, at a little desk and tapped the quill against the parchment of her leather bound memoirs. Writing in her journal felt labored, as vague concerns raged in her mind, sparking life to a very queer emotion amidst her sensation of unwarranted fear. She heeded it twice before by walking the halls, only to find no one of serious authority bunking nearby. She brushed it up for perhaps the arrival of an arcane artifact, perhaps on some traveller.

'While PomStychTivé were alive, always such thoughts came to me intentionally by her will…in fact I almost became lost to insanity because of the weight of her malice.'

Little did Spasa know, her twin soul, Nightsister Queen of the Wanica, and an entire Nightsister Coven of 13 broke out in casting curses against her from the dark void of an undefined limbo, carried about and protected by the galaxy's most notorious enemy, demiurge.

From her window by her desk, Spasa, the Redeemed watched as the sun's light slipped below the horizon, causing a sudden chill to the night air.


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[Darth Carnifex]

A sleek ship dipped below the treeline, coming to rest amidst a field of flowers and tall grass. The being that emerged towered over the foliage, cloaked in darkness as He struck out across the field and into the forest beyond. The darkness was not simply the obstruction of light, it was the total absence of it. All light shrank in its presence, diminished by the power the cloaked being wielded. Life avoided it if possible, the grass beneath their feet withering in their wake.

His glowing eyes burned bright beneath the wide brim of His hood, the veil of shadow draped over His face doing little to conceal their luminance. They were focused, fixed on the path ahead, and at the destination that He journeyed towards. The forgotten city lay ahead, nestled amidst the valley bordered by soft-peaked hills. The sun had set, and the inhabitants of the city had mostly retreated back into their homes, the lights sporadic as much of the city was left unoccupied.

Times had not been kind to this world, trade had gradually dried up as lanes shifted and the larger vessels found anchorage on other more prosperous worlds. The shadow moved amongst the empty streets, passing like a gust of wind, moving closer and closer to the temple that lay at the city's heart. Even here, the Jedi sought to take root, their vile ideology leaking into whatever remained of this world's people. Perhaps when He was done, He would wipe it all away.

Reaching the temple's outer wall, He leapt up with great speed to land on an open terrace. The intruder than stalked the halls of the temple, moving unseen in the shadows. He sought a door, which opened up as His approach; quiet and soft as a whisper. It closed behind Him, His silhouette looming large as it entered the room. There was only one other within, the object of His trespass.

"I've come for you, Spasa." Rattled the nightmarish voice of the Dark Lord of the Sith, His gleaming eyes staring down at the smaller woman. Darth Carnifex then drew back His hood, revealing Himself to her in all of His dark majesty. "The two shall be made one."

Spasa ​

 

[Spasa]

Tag: Darth Carnifex

'And there it be..' she thought in earnest, while the massive, suffocating dark presence unfolded before her. The Nightsister caught unaware of the predator until he presented himself, immediately jumped out of her chair, sending it toppling across the floor, the desk nearly following. She stood alert with her back against the far wall.

His words roiled in her mind, and she wondered, 'what in the hell does he mean by that?!' Her heart leapt sideways causing her consciousness to momentarily slip, an instant which quickly recovered. She is no stranger to absolute Darkness such as this being represents, although her recent studies are of the Light, originally begun to learn how to defeat it from within; eventually the witch grew accustomed and partial to the emotions it flourished, and the Light won her over from the inside.

Spasa focussed upon the weight of his presence. It felt strangely familiar, something of a torment which Jairdain wiped away from memory, with her unique magick. Jax Thio is correct, Spasa is not ready for this encounter, a fact which she is keenly aware.

Insights into this being, Darth Metus had revealed long ago from his personal encounters, if only Spasa, then called Pomsty, had paid more attention to her old father figure while he willingly instructed her. All in all, she never gravitated far from her roots. The Nightsister was too learned, too vain to ever imagine her true allegiance to anyone other than naturally designed by her blood heritage. This was always apparent to Jax, and to his obvious dismay.

"As far as I am aware, my Lord," she cleverly began, customarily brave and calm, her regional dialect thick in delivery, "the Nightsisters and the Sith are not at war." The Nightsister waggled her fingertips to righten her study space, while her eyes focussed on the brazen intruder. As of yet, however, she knew not the identity of he who stands before her.

Spasa's mind wondered if perhaps before her passing, Pom made arrangements for this particular, likely sordid event, targeting Spasa to pay one of Pom's personal debts. "You have me at a disadvantage," she added, a mild hint of wavering uncertainty in her delivery. "I do not know your name, nor of what reference you speak." She could clearly determine, that whatever services he requires shall be rendered despite her willingness to participate.

A single brow lifted arched, and facing the predator she stiffened her stature just then, not that it would make any difference to the mountain of a…man? 'Demons I know. I can control demons,' she thought with assurance as she studied him. She and Vytal Noctura once made their so-called Fanged God dance like a hand puppet, and in turn he only loved her all the more for it.

The Nightsister's eyes locked in gaze with her guest.

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[Darth Carnifex]

He towered over her, fully endowed with the power of the Dark Side. Every fiber of His being radiated with wicked majesty, the innate strength afforded to Him through His umbral communion with the darkness. It would be no stretch of the imagination to envision that He could merely reach out, with His hand or with the Force, and crush her right then and there; to extinguish the spark of life that existed within her. Undoubtedly to her relief, He did not, but rather stood imposingly in the doorway, His shadow draped across the chamber.

"No, there yet exists peace between the order and the clans." His reassurance was cold comfort, for then why did He come all the way here? For her specifically? Perhaps He would elaborated, "I have come for you in particular, Spasa." He knew her name, most discomforting. "I come on behalf of your other, some would perhaps describe her as your better half. Long have I sequestered the Nightsister known as Pom Stych Tivé within my dominion. Long has it been known to me that she is but an incomplete part of a greater whole, one that you are the other piece of the puzzle."

He did not reach for His lightsaber, which hung in clear view at His side, but He ensured that she was made aware of it. "I would prefer if you came without conflict, otherwise I would have to break you. If the others in this temple were to be made aware of my presence, then I would have to empty it. If the city around us was then alerted, I would have to scorch the air and wipe clean the earth. But if you submitted to my generous request, then none would need be made to suffer."

His eyes, so brilliantly bright, bored into her with a withering gaze. "Unless you yearn for such destruction, then I would have no other recourse."

Spasa ​

 

[Spasa]

Tag: Darth Carnifex

That is always their game, for men to just begin with threats. Spasa looked over the beastie and she deduced, "Don't waste both our time, Majesty. You cannot possibly love PomStychTivé, neither does she honestly want you to. Being one in the same, I can say I am a free spirited woman; always have been." The Nightsister waggled her finger at him as she stated her facts on the matter. "You should remember before, when you thought you killed me with yer physical aggression, and with yer spiritual confinement. Did ye not fail at yer attempt?" He failed because Spasa had her amulet, but Spasa doesn't possess the same amulets as she had before.​

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In the depths of her mind, recollection of her time imprisoned to Carnifex in spirit stirred in her memory. Jairdain had worked so hard to eradicate those memories. Jax worked hard to keep her from this moment. When her magick was used to fortify Carnifex's armor, her spirit had actually become a part of him, and she learned more about him than he had wanted her to know.​

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The age old holy ground had a few tricks up its sleeves yet. Spasa reached out and grounded her spirit. Even the Jedi Magick knew what is wrong must be put right. Spasa realized that it is her current state which is an apostasy. Pom has no conscience on her own. That is a wrong that must be righted, and only Spasa can fix it. "Why must we go anywhere? Is it that ye 'ave a chronic sour stomach to the remnants of the Light of the Force?" 'How the dead do cry out in their fury against one such as this, disrupting their peaceful slumber.' Spasa simply smiled in return. Long ago Pomsty wanted to study this Light, thinking it a horrific state and something she needed to do in order to survive in this galaxy. Darth Metus encouraged it. It was easier to study under the Sith, without an inner light to disrupt her with a conscience. She learned alot of Magick from each extreme, among Jedi and under tutelage of Carnifex himself. In the end, both her light and dark aspects became well evolved. She no longer sought fame amidst the turmoil of the systems.​

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Spasa knew that while Pom would surely feel the need to strike out in the utmost extreme, wanting to be the only psychological persona to exist, the evil twin would do better to regain her balanced nature, and Spasa could do with a little less sugar herself; such made her sick any day.​

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"You might do well to remember what lies at your own core being; yes? It is the dashing youthful spirit of Kaine who stayed your hand at killing me long ago." Carnifex might not like this fact, but she knew he couldn't deny it. If he had to put up with it, so could she. Pom raising magick without any conscience, for Spasa to allow that to continue would be an unforgivable sin.​

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This had to happen someday, she always suspected. Her whole life had revolved around this unprecedented method of learning as much magick as possible, and she realized its now over. Her brows scrunched together in contemplation. "I will give you one thing," she said thinking about all the places she studied. "You are the only one who didn't either truly attempt to kill us, or leave our side." She wondered why was that.​

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[Darth Carnifex]

"You are mistaken."

Just as she stood her ground, the Dark Lord did not budge. He loomed large in the small chamber, a pillar of physical might enriched by the Dark Side of the Force. Every aspect of His being writhed in the Force, the abject wrongness of His existence a stain upon its fabric. There would be many that would call Him a Wound in the Force, a maw which swallowed up all who drifted too close. Others thought of Him as a beacon, a guiding hand, the only one who could right the galaxy and deliver the devoted onto paradise.

In truth, He was a hunter. Like the ancient people of His homeworld, He was well-adapted to His environment, an apex predator. Before Him was His prey, and though she remained defiant against Him, that was all she was to Him.

"It is at the request of Pom Stych Tivé that you be taken from this world and delivered into her hands. Your existence as a separate entity will come to an end, and that which was divided shall again be whole. It is inevitable." And in turn, He may yet discover more about how to reunite with His own disparate half; Demiurge. Carnifex was degrading rapidly, in time He would not be strong enough to persist in this world in any meaningful way. Reunion with Demiurge was the only way, that much was clear. Bringing Spasa to Pom, and rejoining them, was a step in that direction.

"Prepare to depart, I will not have us linger."

Spasa ​

 

[Spasa]

Tag: Darth Carnifex

'Pom really stepped in it deep with this guy.' Spasa never imagined her circle of friends would ever be so swayed to extremism. She knew nobody started off this way. Part of her core knew what to expect and what she should and should not accept to be forced to undergo. She mulled over her predicament and the beastie's place in it all, as if the whole event unfolding before her eyes were all possibly part of the original plan.

Spasa fell short of her goal in learning all possible skills to be conjured of the Light, as she expected Pom had slipped short of truly impressing the rogue Sith as well. She knew Pom would have kept to her strengths, and left the common skills to the wayside. Jax knew more than Spasa was able to comprehend, and she thought of herself as a rather mediocre student, at least at the particular mental skills the Jedi insist on practicing. Spasa preferred the old ways of achieving the same manifestations. In her desperation to avoid Pom in the physical plane, and the nature of the Jedi, they taught her many skills to protect herself. But the depth of Darkness is far more dangerous than diving into the Light of the Force. Both extremes are destructive to the Mortal body, but only one guarantees spiritual corruption. Pom dedicated herself for intently and took her own evolution of knowledge to more unique studies. Spasa wondered if it truly had to end right now. Could she walk the middle of the line again and still keep peace with those she has built relationships? She doubted this one would understand.

Spasa's eyes danced in thought at what was destined to ensue. 'Balance restored?' she wondered. "I get the feeling you aren't exactly experienced in what you believe she intends to do." She couldn't die and also be joined… although… that would be balanced alright! Life and death at the same time? Is that what Pom learned? But that would not be the original plan for her going into her studies as she had. She and Pom were of an understanding how it would all start, how it would all progress, and how it would all be concluded. There is a certain protocol Spasa is counting on, the Magick they had been sworn to raise. She knew Pom would be difficult…but 'she simply cannot welsh on our pact; or had Pom slipped so egregiously that she thinks she can successfully avoid it?' Spasa was almost afraid to find out how off the path it could all go; she has her own tricks up her sleeve, to nudge the Magick to succeed, but not near enough to totally derail some insane Sith Ritual without proper planning.

"Why do you help her?" Spasa wondered if it is a life debt she would have to repay. 'That would figure. Rejoin after there is a life debt to repay.' Spasa drew her journal to her chest, her sigil began to roil in preparation for what might be in the works to unfold. "Who are we in your Court?" Spasa hopes she should be free to return home at her leisure, maybe check on her family. 'Doesn't Pom have children?'



She listened to him, and went along with his little game. 'Powerful men are such control freaks.' Spasa suddenly tromped across the floor towards the beastie quite swiftly, to signify she made up her mind, and that he doesn't scare her…not yet. As she made her way to the doorway, she swiftly cocked her head to peer up towards his big face, before settling her gaze ahead of them in the grandiose corridor.

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[Darth Carnifex]

"Because it is beneficial to me," responded the Dark Lord as Spasa walked past Him and out into the hall. He followed after her, looming large at her back, an opaque shadow amidst the twilight gloom. Carnifex did not feel the necessity of justifying His actions to other people, a predator did not need to explain itself to its prey; it only acted. There would only be one outcome to come of all this, and the Dark Lord would pursue it without hesitation.

This was how He was.

"Pom Stych Tivé serves as the mistress of a Nightsister coven that has pledged their loyalty to me, one that I have saved from the destruction wrought upon Dathomir." Truthfully, their relationship spanned further back than that moment, but it was a fine frame of reference to mention to give context. "They relocated to my abode, where they do all that I ask. The secrets of the Nightsisters is open to me." They had taught Him many things; how to harness the ichor, how to recite the old incantations. With this newfound power, He had gone on to achieve many of His ambitions.

"It will be her that you answer to when we arrive, and your fate is decided."

Spasa ​

 

[Spasa]

Tag: Darth Carnifex

The small female began to crack a smile as the Dark Lord spoke about the other half of her being, which she immediately squashed. She felt a well of satisfaction to know that she found a placement of esteem among the great Sith. "I am very pleased to learn of your pact with the Nightsisters. This means alot to me. In time I too will know what has transpired between you and Pom," she said. He wondered how he came this far with his connection to Pom on a chain around his neck, and it seems he hasn't understood this moment. 'Not surprising, because like myself, Pom had forgotten too.' Spasa clasped her hands together as she walked, thoughtful.​

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"Perhaps there is something about all this that hasn't yet occurred to you," she began as they walked. "You brought the amulet with you. It within my proximity triggered the Spell I require to conjoin. That triggered my memory. Like myself to Pom, I have that amulet's exact duplicate. When I was a singularity, I divided them and created both of them the moment I turned myself into two beings while inside the Nether, one Light, one Dark oriented." If Pom isn't afraid of him, Spasa resolved that she too would not be either. "I began on a mission to learn all I could. I wanted no surprises, to become well rounded to assure the survival of my Nightsisters." Spasa remarked, matter-of-factly, "Pom seemed to have gone off in reckless abandon when she met you. But my half of the amulet this very moment, has already led her to remember our original intentions." The Black Onyx stone around the Dark Lord's neck began to vibrate, while from thin air Spasa conjured her Moonstone into her palms. "I tell you, she is just fine with what shall transpire."​

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The Moonstone glowed within her hands, and she suddenly knew that there is much more to the ancient being than Carnifex revealed. Spasa stopped and turned towards him, a gasp escaped her lips. "Children? Of course!" She had always known of them in the back of her mind, but never honed in on the details surrounding their existence. Pom, Spasa….or herself known as Pomsty, she has always loved children, loved teaching. Such is a very serious responsibility to the Nightsister.​

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'In time, when it is finished, none shall feel so alien to me.' Their memories, emotions, carnal feeling, all their life discoveries will be intertwined as one.​

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Carnifex had this depth of Darkness, like a black velvet shroud, a fog that alienates and blocks the Light from her experience. Spasa wondered what Pom had learned that enabled her to orbit this great Sith Lord and find kinship and commonality there, perhaps even comfort. She felt he simply could not resist threatening her…because in his mind he is protecting Pom, his Mistress. Spasa did not know what response the final result of joining Light and Dark would draw out of the Dark Lord. She will not ever be again the extremist she had once been around him. An awareness of his acceptance of Gunnr surfaced in her thoughts. 'Peculiar.'​

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Both of her amulets intermingled powers, and so she picked up her pace within the corridors. If any Jedi were hiding out in the Temple, they certainly would not be blind to her Nightsister Magick now.​

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[Darth Carnifex]

Carnifex was aware of the amulet's awakening, how could He not be? But it did not concern Him, though His hand did reach up to idly clutch the token between two fingers. His was as dark as midnight satin, utterly devouring the wavelengths of visible light that strayed too near. It was like an empty abyss, not just the diffusion of light into shadow, but its abject absence. Even His fingers temporarily vanished as they neared, though they quickly returned the moment He let His hand slip away.

"Within me they have made a new covenant, and have drank of my blood. The seed that germinates inside of them shall bear forth daughters strong in the Magick, but they shall find that they are barren in turn. The propagation of the Nightsisters requires the vitae of Jedi. I spoke true when I said that I would not slay the Jedi in this Temple, for they shall serve a grander purpose."

This was made readily apparent as a Jedi, unbeknownst to the danger in their midst, passed the corner just ahead of the two. They only had a second of realization before they were struck by a sudden paralysis, collapsing to the carpeted floor with a dull thud. Their eyes darted around in their sockets, fear taking root as the Dark Lord slowly approached. Then their eyes glazed over white, and they went still as a corpse. "Not dead," explained Carnifex as He knelt down to turn the Jedi's head to the side. "A prisoner in their own flesh."

Then the body levitated up off the ground, buoyed by the Dark Lord's will. It floated alongside them as they continued walking, quickly joined by more Jedi as the Dark Lord ambushed others along their way. "In time, you and Pom shall see the destiny that I have written."

Spasa ​

 

[Spasa]

Tag: Darth Carnifex

The Light exists not as the absence of Darkness, nor is either ever absolute. None fully abolish the other within the vastness of the Universe. The Light exists from phenomenal measures, is intrusive and seeks to reach into every crevice possible, while Darkness naturally exists without it. There is one thing the old Spasa remembers, the vast difference between the two extremes crammed into so little physical space suddenly felt nauseating.​

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Spasa wonders just how deeply steeped in Darkness is PomStychTivé. The extreme actions of the Dark Lord did not stir unrest within her spirit, for slowly her true nature began to unlock, actions of Nightsister rituals flashing into her conscious mind from memory. These days seemed of old and dated as she recovered slowly from ritual imposed amnesia. Yet the actions of the elder do indeed seem precisely familiar. As the Jedi monk gazed about, first in fear of his predicament unable to counteract, Spasa wondered if her studies were in vain all along. She wondered what this Dark Lord could know, that she has missed. 'Can they not fight for their lives?' she wonders.​

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"Is it fear then that so unsettles and incapacitates the practitioner of Light?" she asked in curiosity of the Dark Lord's philosophy, her head cocked in genuine curiosity.​

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"I felt like I had learned much of the Light, enough to avoid falling victim to it being wielded against me. You see, forever it truly nauseated me, like an aversion. In order to protect my people, I set out to study as much as possible in order to focus my findings into a method to counter it. I suppose the Pom you knew already put what we learned long ago to the test. I hope she continued her master studies in Potions?" Spasa wondered if the Dark Lord understood what she told him.​

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She proceeded to walk the halls, unfazed. "I was unsuccessful at requesting to study directly under a Grandmaster. They seem quite focussed on being Battle Masters, and less on sharing the extent of their presumably vast knowledge." She did meet some remarkable people, such as Jax Thio a Jedi Master who was quite adept at fully emerging himself in the Light of the Force.​

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A portion of the Spell requirements which would be necessary to procure the Magick at hand, flooded into her thoughts, and she felt confident in the capability of the Dark Lord by his overwhelming presence alone.​

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[Darth Carnifex]

"Knowledge is power, and all who wield power are afraid to lose it; even the Jedi. The Sith and the Jedi are equally covetous, though the Sith do not make excuses for their nature. The Jedi delude themselves and others into believing that they alone are the arbiters of knowledge, parceling out whatever information they deem fit to bestow. It is this delusion that blinds them, among other things. The Sith knowingly hoard knowledge and likewise parcel out what they wish to whom they wish, but not for the benefit of any false moralism. Those who hold knowledge, and thus power, have the right to keep it for themselves; to keep it from others. That is the dominion of the strong."

By now, many Jedi had fallen victim to the Dark Lord's power. Their paralyzed forms hovered quietly a meter off the ground, stricken in whatever pose they assumed when they had fallen. Though, they yet lived, as the Dark Lord had explained, but could only watch with silent eyes. He needed their life force, their innate power in the Force that lay within their spirit, so the propagation could continue apace. Such was the price of power, the price of darkness.

Others would pay that price, as the Dark Side demanded.

"The Light is only a half-measure. It can bestow the wielder the power to do many extraordinary things, but it fundamentally lacks that which Darkness has in abundance. Surety of passion. True strength comes from embracing every facet of your being, not to deny them. The Jedi reject anger, fear, and hate, but the Sith embrace them as equally as joy and sorrow. A learned Sith should study the Light, as they should study the Force in all it's aspects, but only to understand it's weaknesses. When an adversary's weakness is known, they are all the more easily to destroy."

Spasa ​

 

[Spasa]

Tag: @Carnifex-Demiurge

She listened to him speak his wisdom and felt what he believes to be truthful. At the last words he spoke Spasa froze in her steps. She looked at him with a gaze which signified a deeper connection. "She loved you…and yet she was afraid to love you. She wanted more from you, to hold an honorable title…and yet she wanted to retain her freedom. She was envious of the others, but also extremely accepting of your family situation. She was all these emotions, even with the Light vanquished out of her. She felt that you didn't ever hold this against her." The younger version of PomStychTivé felt a sudden onset of a sense of worry. "You won't discard me when I am whole again?" she asked, knowing the alignment to a few most closest to him through Pom's shared memories of her family. She wondered how she will feel in their midst, as one capable of wielding such extreme Darkness, and also compassion for those most closest to her.

The Onyx that hung around the Dark Lord's neck, where Pom's soul was stored along with the Wanica Coven, shot out a vortex of energy and focussed onto Spasa's Moonstone. She gripped hold of the chain as the two stones pulled violently toward one another. She could not refrain from being drug towards him. They two stones came to touch, leading Spasa to choose to grip hold of the Sith Lord and be held in his arms, lest the tug of the stones should break her neck. A blinding flash of light produced along with a thunderous sound that rumbled between dimensions.

Utter Darkness followed. For the moment she found herself blinded, the immediate area transformed from the physical realm into the ethereal. Two versions of PomStychTivé's Soul finally occupied the same space, but both were far from inhabiting the body in which they belong. She kissed him with a passion long missed and overdue, as the Wanica encircled the Dark Lord and his Mistress. The undead which he brought with Him, floated unto their altar of skulls. They were returned to the Bone Temple upon the Worldcraft Malsheem.

Time had rebounded, and Spasa would find herself clinging to the Dark Lord, looking upon the scene from months ago, the moment when the Dark Lord Himself was ailing and his Mistress PomStychTivé stood over her Grimoire adhered to the altar in a living Temple. The moment her own galactic-wide Spell went awry due to the actions of Jax Thio switching out her ingredients with a virgin unimproved imposter herb.​

Spasa's heart raced at the very sight, for she could not have fathomed the extent of the Darkness from the scene as portrayed in Pom's memory. She felt fear of the great power awakened, and also pity for the ailing Dark Lord in the scene. She wondered if their presence here could possibly change the history of the outcome. She could not know what is next to follow.
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[Darth Carnifex]

"She did," answered the Dark Lord, "And I her, though such emotions are lost to me. Few would recognize such devotion, but it was always there. When I came to Dathomir after such a long absence, I found myself pulled towards her; a sort of magnetic attraction. I took her for myself, and her coven too. I raised them up, elevated them above all the other cults, covens, and tribes of her world. Ultimately, I led them to salvation before their world was ravaged by those without understanding."

More than that, He also wanted control over the Warlock Gate; a bridge between the living and the dead. Initially, that's all it was, a means to gain control over something without becoming mired in conflict to hold it. But, it evolved beyond that. Pom became something the Dark Lord cherished and coveted in equal measure, a treasure that He adored. She was His confidant and His teacher, passing on her knowledge of the intimate mysteries. Her and her coven met Him in carnal union, strengthening the magic that flowed between them.

Now their world was a ruin thanks to the New Imperial Order, but their power was waning as the Sith again began to rise. He would have to return to Dathomir and cleanse the stain.

"Your fears are misplaced, I would not abandon you once you are whole. You shall become even dearer to me then than now."

Spasa ​

 

[Spasa]

Tag: Darth Carnifex

She felt the passion behind his words and she suddenly didn't care about his alignment being so extreme leaning towards utter darkness. If who she had once been had found love even amidst this level of Darkness, then her presumptions are correct, that there truly is no absolute of either extreme. The Dark Lord could never become wholly Dark so long as he cherishes another, nor could the Jedi ever refuse their emotion enough to become aligned with absolute Light. There shall always be hope for co-existence among the greatest of minds…as the lesser among all men battle themselves to death. She gazed into the depths of the Master's eyes and became deeply moved, for saw herself reflected in them in a way she never imagined possible.

The etherial vision surrounding Carnifex and Spasa suddenly warped, and Spasa found Pom standing next to her now. Her surroundings returned her to the moment among her past when she her soul had been torn in half, resulting her to exist as one White Witch, and another individual aligned with Darkness. She stood looking back once again toward her Darker self, the very moment that the two envious gods, the Fanged God and the Ashla, played a tug of war with her Soul within the Nether Realm. The Ashla had gripped hold of her once again, and Pom was held bound by the Nightsisters' own god.​

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Spasa looked up at the Ashla and felt sincerely thankful for this whole life experience, understanding that if this event had not happened to her, there would be no daughters born from her womb. Pom had many children with the Dark Lord, and she could never wish otherwise. Now these shall also be her very own daughters.​

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Then their surroundings changed once again…the Nightsisters are ready for their presence in the Bone Temple.​

Spasa stood with Carnifex, this time willfully gripping firmly onto his hand. She began walking amidst the forest of Dathomir within the Netherworld, as it is cast across her homeworld by the Warlock's Gate which Carnifex so coveted. This world in the physical realm exists very different, but the Nightsisters control the upside-down realm of the Nether occupying the same space and Time.

Spasa followed other Nightsisters living and dead as they walked towards the Bone Temple, alive with Magick through their enchantment and unified incantations. All gathered to assist in the ritual to reunite the twin Souls of their beloved Matriarch.

Spasa felt alien there and yet also familiar with these ways. She felt a comfort to know that soon she will be whole again. The prisoners which Carnifex brought with him from the Jedi Temple, the Nightsisters took hold of and prepared for their purpose in the ritual. Pom's own Epimoní Coven of the physical realm, led Spasa to lie down upon the Altar of severed heads. They led Carnifex to stand by her side. The Coven removed both the Moonstone amulet from Spasa, and the Onyx from their Dark Lord. The leader of the incantations held the amulets above her head and called upon the Wanica to produce themselves for the ritual.
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[Darth Carnifex]

The time had come.

They had crossed the vast distances of time and space to be here, for this moment. The Jedi Temple was but a distant memory, it's importance quickly fading away as they walked among the endless chaos-scape of the Netherworld. Many times had the Dark Lord of the Sith traversed the shifting incandescent realms of the Nether, no two incursions ever the same. The Nether was fickle and shifted often, creating a chaotic tapestry of shapes, colors, and sensations. Few things were constant, but the Nightsister's forests replicated within the Nether were one of them. It was oddly comforting in a way.

Before them rose the Bone Temple, hallowed ground of the Wanica. Nightsisters both living and dead came to meet them, leading them deeper into the ancient temple. Carnifex had been to this temple several times before, oft to commune with the Wanica cult which revered Him as the embodiment of the Fanged God; their personification of the Dark Side of the Force. They had shown Him a great many things, and He had harnessed the ichor of Dathomir for His own purposes. Magick was not unknown to Him, and He wielded it with ease.

The Epimani coven took from Him the Onyx amulet of Pom Stych Tivé, and from Spasa they took the Moonstone amulet. Spasa was made to lay upon an altar of blasphemous portents, the Dark Side growing stronger with every passing moment. Soon the Wanica would come to join them, and they would commence in the ritual long foretold. Words of power began to suffuse the air around them, spoken from lips inked in black inscriptions, uttered from throats pierced and run through with bone and ivory. A great keening wail, like that of a low trumpet, uttered forth as many of those present began to sing directly from their throats, amplified by strange instruments of bone.

"So it begins," spoke the Dark Lord, "The rejoining of those who were divided, and the rebirth of the Nightmother."

Spasa ​

 

[Spasa]

Tag: Darth Carnifex

Under the weight of Darkness gathered herein, the Temple shuddered and exhaled violently as the faces of Jedi wept in utter agony. This call, felt by Nightsisters near and off-planet, to begin the holy ritual of the ancients, in a unified effort.

The start of this incantation stirred sleeping Darkside gods, gathered among the many malevolent shadowy places across the universe, capable of powers above and beyond those necessary to accomplish the Nightsisters' command.

The Fanged God revealed himself and gazed down upon his daughters, from his place behind the veil. He bled out wildly, his Spirit Ichor poured down over the tabernacle and illuminated it's many creeping shadows.

Servants of Darkness who mere men label gods, besought the direction of Darth Carnifex their Master, as they defiantly balanced on the cusp of falling entranced by the ongoing song of the Nightsisters. They sought his permission to fulfill the demands of the Nightsisters.

Spasa's heart raced as she watched events unfold. Her memory of who she once was, magick she practiced, things that long ago mattered to her before she was made a vessel of the Light, began to finally creep back into her memory.

"Keep her calm," the witches encouraged their Dark Lord.

The onyx amulet held fast in the air suspended alongside the Moonstone. With the ailing breath of the Temple voices, the onyx cracked, scattering shards upon the body of Spasa who shielded her eyes from her place resting upon the altar of skulls. The moment this occurred, the soul of the Late Pomstychtivé, along with her possession of the Wanica were released from the Nether. The Wanica materialized, and took their place as skeletal sentinels encircling the sacred room. After a moment, their appearance evolved them into beings of beauty. They wanted to be noticed by their Dark Lord. The incantation withdrew his Mistress' physical remains from her resting place within one of the many alcoves that contained the shrine erected for her cremation urn. The ashes of her discarded body, carried upon the wind and piled before the sacred altar. The ashes collected into the formation of the last physical existence of Pomstychtivé.

His Mistress' Grimoire materialized out of thin air and rested next to Spasa's head, open to the last Spell she incanted. Lifeless, the Matriarch also formed before all out of her ashes, slumped over the altar, with her arms outstretched and face buried in the pages, just as she had been when she incanted her spell to fortify the Dark Lord.

The altar faces shrieked in terror as the veins which had joined Pomstychtivé to the living Bone Temple itself long ago, once again fortified all that comprised it into living flesh and bone, as it linked Pomstychtivé to be one with it at the altar.

Spasa's moonstone amulet shattered next…
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[Darth Carnifex]

The Dark Lord was flush with power from beyond the veil of the Force, unburdened by earthly restraints and buoyed by the incantations of the Nightsisters at His back and side. Truly, the Dark Side moved through His body like current through an electrical wire; but there was no limit as to how much power could pass through Him. His eyes shone with green light, arcs of lightning piercing the air around His body as the ritual progressed, growing more and more complex.

"I am one with the Dark," intoned the imperious tyrant, "And the Dark is one within me. It is by my hand that all is set into motion, so shall it be with the Nightmother's rejuvenation." Lightning danced about His body, crackling angrily before snapping with a bright flash into nothingness. The Dark Lord placed His hands upon Spasa as she lay upon the altar, and some of that power that rested within Him began to spill into her, anchoring her body to the altar. It was like touching a powerful electrical current, you could do nothing to tear away your hand from the source, you could only watch petrified as it flowed into you.

As the spirits of the Wanica materialized around them, the Dark Lord's eyes remained fixed upon the altar below. Even when their skeletal remains transmogrified into flesh-wrought beauties, His gaze never wavered. He knew His task in the ritual, though it went unspoken and unbidden. He was their Dark God, the pinnacle. By His hand, they would see their mother reborn in new flesh, restored of power and memory, and elevated beyond all that she had once known.

Such was His promise, now to be paid.

Spasa ​

 

[Spasa]

Tag: Darth Carnifex

The materialization of the Wanica Coven provided comfort to the mind of the Nightsister. History tells of such deep respect and idolization to their ancestors for their determination and strive. Their materialization is thought to bestow blessings upon the ritual, and are regarded as a highly holy event.

And then there is HIM.

Carnifex's magick controlled and utilized in full force, cause the Jedi Temple to cry out in a chorus of terror. The living which had been harvested, remained held in a trance as they were made to slip willingly into the Netherworld. Their physical bodies were then torn apart to fulfill another horrific aspect of the ritual sacrifice, to become conjoined to the living host itself, body and soul trapped in eternal fear, in servitude as a conduit to enhance the darksider's connection to the Force. The Bone Temple exhaled in the Jedi's agony of defeat. How they suffered under the conscious weight of their predicament, eternal damnation unjustly bestowed upon them, yet now free to finally delve into and thoroughly explore their human passions. They are forced to feel what the Sith stirs, be it physical for his Mistress or deeper in his consciousness which rules the Darkness abound throughout all of creation.

Darkness predates the Light.

Spasa's head swooned amidst the pouring out of Carnifex's raw energies as she was sewn by his hand, to become bound to the living body of the altar. Her eyes focused upon a dark vortex which opened up above the altar. It stretched seemingly to eternity. As her mind filled with questions of its mysteries, the young Nightsister succumbed to the answers it force fed into her mind.

Chaos…
Fear…

…the source beyond.​

The ancestral dead of the Nightsisters flooded the area, standing toe to toe in the physical realm and the Nether, each connected through the phenomenon of the magnificent Warlock's Gate. In unison the Nightsisters chanted fortifying the miracle about to manifest. The Matriarch Pomstychtivé, died in a sacrificial effort to save Carnifex, her body remained slumped over the Grimoire. As her spirit became freed from the Onyx, she raged within the altar chamber and wailed. The bones of her decayed body emitted a loud crack, as her soul fought to re-inhabit her form to no avail. Whispers of her Spell long ago uttered, echoed throughout all of Dathomir.

As the Moonstone shattered, Spasa's Soul discorporated from her physical vessel and fell into the vortex that had appeared over Carnifex. She felt herself being transported. Her physical body let out a terrifying shriek of the unknown. Despite immense fear, she felt the complete control which Carnifex masters over this abounding Force. The Fanged God no more than an imposter before the magnitude of Carnifex, bowed down in servitude to lend a pitiable measure of magick in comparison to that stirred here and now. They put this outdated god to shame.

The Nightsister's spirit finally came to a halt, floating in the midst of nothingness. Utter Darkness. Absolute Chaos. She took in the visual of the pre-dawn of Time and Space. There is no presence of Light here. Carnifex's reach exists here, and she could see him. Energies suddenly and violently stir within the very moment creation begins. The Darkness gathered abound in absolute chaos and suddenly implodes before bursting outward producing all manner of chemistries. Darkness and Light are now manifest in unity.

Darkness gave of itself to manifest the Light.

The altar skulls screamed once more, louder now than it ever had before. Spasa inhaled sharply upon the return of her unified Soul, while the dead body of the Matriarch degraded and fell away to ashes once again. The Jedi released Spasa from their grip, their medichlorian fortified blood retreated from her veins.

Balance.

Spasa and PomStychTivé took hold of Carnifex's hand, and at his calling both were drawn back into one body. Pomsty awoke as she had existed before the Ashla and the Fanged God tore her soul into equal portions. She remembered both journeys her life had taken, one basked within Light and the other steeped in Darkness. She gazed up from the altar stone towards the body of her avowed partner. Her mind turned over the words she heard him utter regarding his mutual love and adoration for her. Delighted with the magnitude of the affirmation, the Nightsister raised up her hand for Carnifex to take into his own. In the midst of all his astounding glory, she identified the splendid effects of Kaine's influence upon the Dark Lord.
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[Darth Carnifex]

Her hand slipped into His, and the darkness sang. She was radiant, wreathed in shadow and light, perfectly balanced. Though it contrasted against the overwhelming darkness of the Dark Lord, He nonetheless accepted her eagerly. Power flowed between them, surging forth from His heart and into His fingertips, slipping into her body with a crackle of electricity. She was now whole, made anew by His hand and the faith of their covenant; born of blood and flesh.

They were together again, stronger than they had been before. He brimmed with the power of the Dark Side, endowed with a greater magick than any could hope to possess. By just being near here, He could feel the power bristling just beneath the surface. It was their bond, their deep connection, fastened by the power they had called upon to bring about this new beginning.

"You are exquisite, Nightmother," crooned the Dark Lord, pulling her closer. "Remade in all your splendor, again mine to behold."

Spasa ​