Private Dark Shores Once More

[Vytal Noctura]

​

Vytal paused and looked back at Sabine with a dark smile. The Nightsisters could be fickle, it was true. She doubted Sabine was afraid of them, however; more likely she didn't want to deal with the hassle of women that would send specters and haunts to plague you from afar. To avoid their gaze was easier than to call off their curse.

"Tis certain," the pale Witch acknowledged. Sabine was not the sort to be lethargic. Activity kept the mind sharp and passed the time.

It was important for her to walk on Dathomir once more. Whatever they might end up creating together, ensuring the safety of her Sisters had always been her goal. Every moment in the Confederacy had been intended to find technologies or knowledge to get back to Dathomir for its protection -- not that all of it was accepted. How quickly people forget what you tried to do for them. Times changed. People changed. Vytal just hoped they hadn't changed too much in her absence.

"Yes, let's. Before the galaxy falls apart without us." At the time during the Planeshift that sentiment was a bit more literal than usual.

Sabine Delacroix​

 

[Sabine Delacroix]

Sabine's eyes lingered on Vytal's dark smile, the corners of her own lips curving in a quiet echo of it. She understood the meaning behind it well enough not mockery, not threat, but the shared weariness of women long accustomed to the burdens of power, and the ungratefulness of those they bore it for.

"'Tis certain.'"

"A truth I've found few have the patience to appreciate," Sabine replied, her voice calm, nearly reflective. "To act is to risk being misunderstood. To not act is to be forgotten. Either way, the song they sing of you is rarely the one you intended."


She settled into the co-pilot's seat with unhurried ease, trusting her thralls to handle the vessel's course while allowing herself a rare indulgence: stillness.

"'Yes, let's. Before the galaxy falls apart without us.'"

Sabine chuckled once a soft, dry sound. "It does seem to have a habit of doing that when we turn our backs."


She leaned back as the ship lifted free from Malachor's broken surface, eyes closing for just a breath as the darkness of space enveloped them.

"To Dathomir, then. Let's see what still remembers us."

—

When the stars reappeared, Dathomir loomed before them like a specter in red. Its surface was wild, veined in tangled jungle, blackened stone, and mist-choked valleys. Cloudbanks churned slowly around the equator, as if the planet breathed with heavy lungs. The world had not changed. Or if it had, it had not softened.

Sabine stood from her seat as the ship began its descent, her stride measured, quiet. She said nothing at first, watching the blood-colored world grow larger in the viewport. The Force stirred faintly around her not welcoming, not hostile, simply aware.

The ship descended through heavy cloud, weaving between jagged ridgelines and craggy mountains worn down by time and war. But it did not seek out any settlement, nor temple, nor great altar of bone or stone. Sabine guided it toward a forgotten plateau nestled between two dark cliffs, where the earth still hummed with the pulse of ancient rites and buried voices.

The ship landed in silence.

Sabine moved first, the boarding ramp hissing open to reveal a sky the color of old blood and the thick, humid scent of untamed life.

She stepped into the open air, boots striking Dathomiri soil once more after so many years. Her cloak stirred in the wind, not as an announcement, but as acknowledgment.

Then she turned to Vytal, and with a faint smirk playing at her lips, said

"Shall we see what the sisters will say?"

She gestured toward the path ahead with one hand, the other resting lightly against her side.

"I'll let you go first. You were always more diplomatic with the dead."

TAG: Vytal Noctura

 

[Vytal Noctura]

​

Suddenly Vytal laughed.

They'd settled on Dathomir, and strode down to his ruthless and uncompromising red surface. A world bathed in the dark of its sun. Where blood was spilt freely. Somewhere she had been gone from as long this time as the first. Perhaps longer. Home. Vytal had followed in peace, though wondered why she would find among the living.

And Sabine spoke of the dead.

"You will find some in the Nether would disagree with those words." The pale Witch sighed as the laughter fled. "Plenty of ancient entities required a reminder not to trouble this plane."

Vytal drew in a deep breath and released it just as thoughtfully. "I never held much influence here. A sad testament, but my purpose was with Ryloth even if my heart was for Dathomir. I hope Pom held her peace here, and that the Outsiders did not trouble my Sisters over much."

Her emerald eyes turned over to Sabine. "Are you certain you wish to be here for this? It will take time to establish my authority. Time still to convince them of the urgency and need to partake in galactic affairs. Nightsisters have never been interested in joining hands with Outsiders." Which was not something the galaxy should seek to change too blithely. If the Witches of Dathomir grew too bold they could cause more catastrophe and destruction than the Sith. Not every nightmare required a big, ship-mounted gun.

Sabine Delacroix​

 

[Sabine Delacroix]

Sabine's steps slowed at the sound of Vytal's laughter sharp, sudden, and rich with something rare. Not mockery, not scorn. Something alive. And for the briefest moment, it stirred something old and almost forgotten in the elder vampirika.

She turned her head toward her companion, and for once, her usual composure softened without calculation. Her lips curved in a genuine smile small, private, but unmistakably real.

"I had almost forgotten what that sounded like," she said quietly, the warmth in her voice as rare as the smile itself. "I didn't know you ever laughed."

Then, as Vytal sighed and the laughter faded like mist, Sabine's expression shifted back to its familiar elegance but the smile lingered, just at the edges.

"'You will find some in the Nether would disagree with those words.'"

"Oh, I expect as much," she replied, her tone amused. "The dead rarely agree with anyone but themselves. Still, a few of them remember when to keep their distance. And the ones that don't?" Her smile thinned, but her eyes glittered. "They can relearn."

As Vytal spoke of her past, of the tenuous hold she had once had here, Sabine remained silent not out of disinterest, but respect. She let the words come, let the weight of them settle before responding.

"'I never held much influence here.'"

"Great, neither of us will hold any sway then. Not often we are on equal footing." Sabine said with a dry amusement.

Her gaze drifted over the horizon, where the red-tinged mists curled between the peaks like ancient breath.

When Vytal questioned her presence, Sabine looked back with the calm certainty of one who had already answered the question long before it was spoken aloud.

"'Are you certain you wish to be here for this?'"

"I am," she said. "Not as an observer. Not as a guest. As your friend. I've faced empires. Armies. Monsters that clawed at the edges of the veil. I've never once turned away because something was difficult." Her voice dropped, low and unwavering.

TAG: Vytal Noctura

 

[Vytal Noctura]

​

The pale Witch looked over at Sabine with a glow to her emerald eyes. It was true. Vytal didn't laugh often. Not in public. The world was always so full of serious matters requiring a hard resolve and a strong back. Even in times of celebration she had been charged with being the monolith that stood as a foundation for all those witches under her care. Should she have tried being more open? More... friendly? Was it not enough to invite them to speak and to see to their needs? Perhaps. A woman from Dathomir knew little of how someone was expected to behave out there among the stars, after all. The people of Dathomir did not laugh as freely as so many other people; they understood and embrace the hardship of life, and left levity to private moments shared with those that would remember them. Even when the inevitable struck.

As for the Nether, perhaps Vytal would speak more of it later. Or sooner than late. Conversation turned to Dathomir itself and its people, however, and that was far more interesting to a Sister than denizens that had no place in their realm.

"A friend. A Sister even." A hand extended toward the other woman. Someone that dabbled in the ways of Sith even, but Vytal knew of Sabine more than just a title or exposure to certain philosophy. Others that had been brought up as Sith would have found establishing as much trust quite difficult. "Empires, armies, and Ancient Ones are easy by comparison. They are forces to banish, rebuke, or repudiate. When it comes to your Family whose future is as cherished as your own... Conflict is inevitable. Wounds you cannot evade. Blows you must stand your ground as you take them. In time, Goddess and Gods willing, they understand."

Her eyes swung aside toward mountains nearby. "It occurs to me, a sanctuary may be needed. A place not already claimed by any coven." A soft harumph followed. "Trees and stone. So familiar," of Ryloth, "and so different." Vytal turned her attention back to Sabine. "Time has a way of bending back on itself."

Sabine Delacroix​

 

[Sabine Delacroix]

Sabine did not hesitate. When Vytal extended her hand, Sabine took it firmly, deliberately. Not as ceremony. Not as politics. But as acknowledgment.

"A friend," she echoed quietly. "A Sister."

Whatever paths Sabine had walked through Sith courts, across battlefields, through centuries of blood and empire none of them stood between this moment. Her grip was steady, warm despite the cool air of Dathomir's heights.

At the mention of Family, her expression shifted less smile now, more understanding.

"I wouldn't know about family. I was raised by the Sith, such as they were. That was my family, hardly something you miss or look upon fondly." Sabine said. Her gaze followed Vytal's toward the mountains dark silhouettes rising against the blood-tinted sky.

"A sanctuary, I have such a place on Nathema." she said, thoughtful. "But here, I would never dare I am no witch. My presence, would not be tolerated I suspect."

"Time bends" she agreed. "But it does not circle without change."

Her gaze shifted back to Vytal.

"We will build something that does not need to beg the galaxy's understanding. And if they wound you for it…" Her amber eyes sharpened, "They will have to answer to me as well."

"Show me where you would place this sanctuary." She motioned for Vytal to take the lead.

TAG: Vytal Noctura

 

[Vytal Noctura]

​

"There are Covens that have dealt with Sith before," Vytal replied. At times those dealings went poorly, of course. Not all. Though as a waif, a young Vytal had heard stories and seen power-hungry self-proclaimed Lords feigning interest in teachings. They did not strive to the extent her Sisters had in mastery. They sought power unearned in haste. Still, some Coven Mothers had deemed them of worth for some reason.

"More importantly, I welcome you here. Twould need to discuss any sanctuary you might seek, but as an individual I will not have them refuse you." Not that Sabine was likely to abuse that trust, but despite hating politics Vytal knew it might not look well if any haven were too expansive. Or if other Sith showed up as a result. Anything so much as suggesting 'invasion' would be received poorly. They would figure it out.

Who was Vytal to extend such an invitation? A woman that had honed her skill in the Nether against no small monsters. As much as Nightsisters spoke of communion it was not unheard of for conflict to arise. This was one Witch confident in her ability to stand before a challenge when words failed.

With a nod, the pale woman set off toward the mountains nearby. Such a hold would do well if assaulted. It was familiar enough ground for a Nightsister Coven to find seclusion and safety amidst unyielding firmament. Even those off world had a tendency to do the same.

"Will you be able to stay a while, Sabine, or will other matters draw you elsewhere?" Sabine was kind enough to bring Vytal back to Dathomir, but she likely had been pursuing her own designs for a time. Hopefully none that would draw her away soon, but eventually? As before, the pale Witch was not one to subsist on handouts even from a friend. If there were ways Vytal could return Sabine's friendship -- her kindness -- she would need to understand in what manner.

Sabine Delacroix​

 

[Sabine Delacroix]

Sabine listened without interruption, her gaze steady as Vytal spoke of covens and Sith, of old stories and caution earned the hard way. There was no offense taken—only acknowledgment. She had seen the sort Vytal described. Lords who mistook hunger for discipline. Power for mastery.

"Some dealings go poorly because both sides mistake curiosity for understanding," Sabine said evenly. "I have no interest in plundering Dathomir's teachings. I learned long ago that what is taken without earning has a way of turning in the hand."

When Vytal welcomed her clearly, deliberately Sabine inclined her head in quiet acceptance.

"I appreciate that" she said.

As Vytal moved toward the mountains, Sabine fell into step beside her, studying the ridgeline with a tactician's eye. High ground. Narrow approaches. Natural stone chokepoints. The land itself offered protection without the need for fortification. Dathomir favored those who respected its harshness.

When Vytal asked her final question, Sabine did not answer immediately.

"Will you be able to stay a while, Sabine, or will other matters draw you elsewhere?"

The wind moved through her white hair as she considered it not the political calculus of courts or empires, but the weight of choice.

"I will stay" she said at last, voice calm and certain. "Long enough to see foundations laid. Long enough that my presence does not look like a passing curiosity."

Her amber eyes shifted toward Vytal, softer now, but no less resolute.

"There are always other matters. There always will be. That is the nature of the galaxy. But not all fires require my hand. And yet some work is worth tending personally."

TAG: Vytal Noctura