D O M I N U S
N A B O O
![Social-Waltz.png](https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/617676313573982235/751889889443971122/Social-Waltz.png)
![Darth Elyria](/data/avatars/s/15/15788.jpg?1619424860)
Devotion.
In the beginning, the Sith did not understand the depths of her nature. Due to this ignorance, he looked upon her with confusion and attempted to mold her into the box of his meager understanding. He looked upon her as a threat - as an adversary that needed to be overcome. Yet, as the days turned into months, nuggets of knowledge worked into his mind. He began to look at the actions taken by the Primordial One. Began to examine why someone as monumental as she would not simply deny all the right of existence. The answer? Devotion.
Ah, she would never utter such a word. It would never fill his ears, for she was a creature of well-earned pride. A being of might so mountainous that it dwarfed the culmination of his experience. Thus, she would never lower herself to such a plateau as to admit her motives. Just as the Titan would not divulge its innermost feelings to an ant. Yet, for as meager as his knowledge, Darth Metus began to understand. And there was no greater moment of clarity than Ryloth. Though the world had gone dark following the Chaos Insurrection, their answer to the challenge of the day spoke volumes of her intentions.
Together, they worked to raise the spirits of the long-suffering. They tapped into the eons of anguish which had poisoned the very soil of the world. But, as any who tampered with the Darkness knew, the greater the power, the greater the cost. To perform such an art would require sacrifice - and the willing lamb was the Primordial One. Without hesitation, she allowed herself to be diminished. To be made nearly mortal for the sake of preserving the Sith's ambitions. She saw what the morrow brought - she had seen the culmination of his ambitions. She had seen the man of her present...and was devoted to making that person a reality.
Though she had taken the brunt of the cost, the ritual itself had left the Sith himself diminished as well. The fragility was such that his recovery had prevented him from being present during the defense of Rodia: a crime that he would never again commit. Yet, in the instant of the summoning's completion, Darth Metus took hold of
Darth Elyria
. The path betwixt worlds was rend open by his will, and to her home did they return. The Abyss which had been such a hated locale for the man was now a refuge. The monstrosities that dared to impede him before now hastened his path.
It all ended with her return to the crystalline refuge. To rest within a sarcophagus made of the purest "glass." As he laid her down to sleep, with his lips upon her brow, the knowledge first took root within his mind. That morsal of understanding - Devotion. From thence, its twin took root within him. She was not his enemy. She was not a calamity to his life. She had more than earned the seed of devotion which now grew within him.
And as she rested, he tarried at her side - only departing when matters of the waking world required his attention. He tarried faithfully and grew accustomed the Primordial that she called home. He tarried and came to understand the ebb and flow of the Deep. He tarried and wrote his name upon the Darkness. Darth Metus claimed his domain within the Dark Side - a terrifying pact between he and the very concept of Dread. And by that pact, he would have the means to sustain her ravenous appetite. He would have the power to repay the Devotion which had been given to him.
So did she feed. So was she sustained.
The time soon came when the glass began to shatter in response to her waking. Cracks. Ripples. A mighty falling away until the Primordial One stood tall. And on that day, she found that she was very much so not alone. Nor would she be, ever more. Shortly thereafter, a return to the waking world was made. The Abyss was left behind in favor of those ambitions she had sacrificed so much to maintain. In the moment, a celebration had been undertaken at the new home of the Viceroyalty. Therefore, it was Darth Metus' duty to attend.
A duty that he welcomed her to share with him.
Never before had he presented his partner to the eyes of the public. In fact, Ryloth was the first time that she had been truly present before any political entities. Yet, as the "First Couple" entered the Gala, it was as natural as breathing. Darth Metus arrived, dressed to kill, with a bright smile upon his features. Waves and nods were given, of course. Brief recognitions in passing as they navigated their way through the growing number of persons. "I challenge you to a duel." He said, the jest in his tone evident as he led them closer to the dance floor.
"I promise, I won't step on your feet."
In the beginning, the Sith did not understand the depths of her nature. Due to this ignorance, he looked upon her with confusion and attempted to mold her into the box of his meager understanding. He looked upon her as a threat - as an adversary that needed to be overcome. Yet, as the days turned into months, nuggets of knowledge worked into his mind. He began to look at the actions taken by the Primordial One. Began to examine why someone as monumental as she would not simply deny all the right of existence. The answer? Devotion.
Ah, she would never utter such a word. It would never fill his ears, for she was a creature of well-earned pride. A being of might so mountainous that it dwarfed the culmination of his experience. Thus, she would never lower herself to such a plateau as to admit her motives. Just as the Titan would not divulge its innermost feelings to an ant. Yet, for as meager as his knowledge, Darth Metus began to understand. And there was no greater moment of clarity than Ryloth. Though the world had gone dark following the Chaos Insurrection, their answer to the challenge of the day spoke volumes of her intentions.
Together, they worked to raise the spirits of the long-suffering. They tapped into the eons of anguish which had poisoned the very soil of the world. But, as any who tampered with the Darkness knew, the greater the power, the greater the cost. To perform such an art would require sacrifice - and the willing lamb was the Primordial One. Without hesitation, she allowed herself to be diminished. To be made nearly mortal for the sake of preserving the Sith's ambitions. She saw what the morrow brought - she had seen the culmination of his ambitions. She had seen the man of her present...and was devoted to making that person a reality.
Though she had taken the brunt of the cost, the ritual itself had left the Sith himself diminished as well. The fragility was such that his recovery had prevented him from being present during the defense of Rodia: a crime that he would never again commit. Yet, in the instant of the summoning's completion, Darth Metus took hold of
![Darth Elyria](/data/avatars/s/15/15788.jpg?1619424860)
It all ended with her return to the crystalline refuge. To rest within a sarcophagus made of the purest "glass." As he laid her down to sleep, with his lips upon her brow, the knowledge first took root within his mind. That morsal of understanding - Devotion. From thence, its twin took root within him. She was not his enemy. She was not a calamity to his life. She had more than earned the seed of devotion which now grew within him.
And as she rested, he tarried at her side - only departing when matters of the waking world required his attention. He tarried faithfully and grew accustomed the Primordial that she called home. He tarried and came to understand the ebb and flow of the Deep. He tarried and wrote his name upon the Darkness. Darth Metus claimed his domain within the Dark Side - a terrifying pact between he and the very concept of Dread. And by that pact, he would have the means to sustain her ravenous appetite. He would have the power to repay the Devotion which had been given to him.
So did she feed. So was she sustained.
The time soon came when the glass began to shatter in response to her waking. Cracks. Ripples. A mighty falling away until the Primordial One stood tall. And on that day, she found that she was very much so not alone. Nor would she be, ever more. Shortly thereafter, a return to the waking world was made. The Abyss was left behind in favor of those ambitions she had sacrificed so much to maintain. In the moment, a celebration had been undertaken at the new home of the Viceroyalty. Therefore, it was Darth Metus' duty to attend.
A duty that he welcomed her to share with him.
Never before had he presented his partner to the eyes of the public. In fact, Ryloth was the first time that she had been truly present before any political entities. Yet, as the "First Couple" entered the Gala, it was as natural as breathing. Darth Metus arrived, dressed to kill, with a bright smile upon his features. Waves and nods were given, of course. Brief recognitions in passing as they navigated their way through the growing number of persons. "I challenge you to a duel." He said, the jest in his tone evident as he led them closer to the dance floor.
"I promise, I won't step on your feet."
![Metus-Elyria-Bottom.jpg](https://i.ibb.co/nLMPfxV/Metus-Elyria-Bottom.jpg)