Goddess
[member="Sedita Helion"]
The delay of what choice had to be selected ended. There were other witches about who could handle the outsiders. That would allow her to return home. Petra decided on the latter being better. Of course from that choice, another idea formed quickly. It would use the Sith she killed as a tool on the outsiders. That might amuse her for a little time.
So Petra went back to Morte Clan’s stronghold. In her home, she went down to the lowest level. That was where the Temple of the Ancestors was for the clan. The low level had three massive doorways which each led to a different facility. It was the one with people reaching outward from the rock face that she went to. The doorway was so large that Petra was an ant passing through. Of course the church on the other side was large space too. Witches and rancors used this area for sending their dead off to the catacombs on the side of the church.
The room was smooth from top to bottom and only the altar interrupted the flow. On the altar was the sith she killed. Walking up, she looked down at the sith. “never place faith in others… like the wind, they change.” Petra remarked loudly to herself. He did run off with another witch but that one fled, and left him at Petra’s mercy. Even if he was died, that was only the beginning to what she could do to him.
On the other side of the altar where urns and bowls, one urn was selected and place next to Sedita. She opened the top which allowed a faint green glow to hover in the air. A bowl was brought up to rest next to the urn. She poured the glowing green water into the bowl. Then the top was placed back on the urn and put with the others next to the altar. A pause, single moment was taken as she looked at the Water of Life in the bowl.
Petra held her right hand over the bowl with her palm facing up. Taking a deep breath in, she focused on her hand. It slowly began to open like a knife was running over. Then she turned her hand over and placed it in the bowl. After a minute, the hand was lifted up. Thick green smoke rose with her hand, filling the gap between the bowl and her hand. Her hand rose higher into the air. The smoked formed even more to fill the gap, and it wobbled as if it would tip over like some jenga tower.
Focusing on the next step, the ichor from the water and hand stopped it movements. This allowed her to reach outwards. Having that reach made it easier for Petra to swing her hand downward. She hit over Sedita’s chest, more so over his crushed heart. Ichor, green smoke was almost blasted into the body. Petra lifted her hand and more smoke formed under her hand. She repeated the strike. It was like using a defibrillator on a person.
The heart of the Sith was forcefully repaired with the powers that had crushed it. With the strikes, the restarted body was alive, but the spirit was missing. She took the bowl and poured some of the water into his mouth. Then poured a little where she was hit, and brought the bowl up to drip three drops on his forehead. The bowl was placed above his head on the altar. Petra used the droplets to draw a Dathomirian symbol. After she had finished the symbol, she stepped back.
Petra stood perfectly still. Her hands were at her side and the pose was more a tadasana posture. On the surface, everything seemed have stopped. However, Petra was mentally focusing herself, ordering the mind for what was coming. It had to be done like it was done time before.
Slowly her hands turned and rose into the air. A rumbling noise began to fill the church. Like a freight train, thick green ichor barreled out from the catacombs behind her. It split right before hitting Petra, and it circled the altar and her. Spinning around Sedita and Petra, the ichor thicken even more with its increase of flow. Even voices of those that were entombed there had their words. They spoke of the Dathomirian magick and power being pulled into the central location. However, some voices were nothing but echoes. People who original bodies were there, but Petra had brought back to inhabit new bodies. Deep in her mind, a mental note was taken to look for one such person, the daughter who was not on the same planet as she was.
With the magick flowing and charging her more, Petra drove into the force. Reaching deep into the unseen reality of the power that binds the galaxy together, it was that energy which needed to be penetrated. The witch summoned even more of the force to claw through to find Sedita. The deeper she went the more her youthful appearance faded. Decay, undead appearance was rising to the surface for the witch. It was a drain to do so. However she found his presences and began to pull him from the force, the chaos, the afterlife, or whatever one would like to call it. The ichor, the magick funneled upward then came crashing down like a wave on to Sedita’s body when Petra took him from the force. The smoke flowed through him as his presences was restored to the body. Then it blasted outward from all angles before fading into nothing.
The spirits had gone back to rest. Petra took the now empty bowl from the altar and placed with the others next to the urns. She knew how she looked just from witnessing her hands when the bowl was taken. If one had to describe her appearance, then it would have been something close to the Crypt Keeper. As she dealt with her vanity (appearance) and the force, Sedita’s next phase was on him. It was now his choice to awaken among the living or remain there until another death came to release him from the body.
The delay of what choice had to be selected ended. There were other witches about who could handle the outsiders. That would allow her to return home. Petra decided on the latter being better. Of course from that choice, another idea formed quickly. It would use the Sith she killed as a tool on the outsiders. That might amuse her for a little time.
So Petra went back to Morte Clan’s stronghold. In her home, she went down to the lowest level. That was where the Temple of the Ancestors was for the clan. The low level had three massive doorways which each led to a different facility. It was the one with people reaching outward from the rock face that she went to. The doorway was so large that Petra was an ant passing through. Of course the church on the other side was large space too. Witches and rancors used this area for sending their dead off to the catacombs on the side of the church.
The room was smooth from top to bottom and only the altar interrupted the flow. On the altar was the sith she killed. Walking up, she looked down at the sith. “never place faith in others… like the wind, they change.” Petra remarked loudly to herself. He did run off with another witch but that one fled, and left him at Petra’s mercy. Even if he was died, that was only the beginning to what she could do to him.
On the other side of the altar where urns and bowls, one urn was selected and place next to Sedita. She opened the top which allowed a faint green glow to hover in the air. A bowl was brought up to rest next to the urn. She poured the glowing green water into the bowl. Then the top was placed back on the urn and put with the others next to the altar. A pause, single moment was taken as she looked at the Water of Life in the bowl.
Petra held her right hand over the bowl with her palm facing up. Taking a deep breath in, she focused on her hand. It slowly began to open like a knife was running over. Then she turned her hand over and placed it in the bowl. After a minute, the hand was lifted up. Thick green smoke rose with her hand, filling the gap between the bowl and her hand. Her hand rose higher into the air. The smoked formed even more to fill the gap, and it wobbled as if it would tip over like some jenga tower.
Focusing on the next step, the ichor from the water and hand stopped it movements. This allowed her to reach outwards. Having that reach made it easier for Petra to swing her hand downward. She hit over Sedita’s chest, more so over his crushed heart. Ichor, green smoke was almost blasted into the body. Petra lifted her hand and more smoke formed under her hand. She repeated the strike. It was like using a defibrillator on a person.
The heart of the Sith was forcefully repaired with the powers that had crushed it. With the strikes, the restarted body was alive, but the spirit was missing. She took the bowl and poured some of the water into his mouth. Then poured a little where she was hit, and brought the bowl up to drip three drops on his forehead. The bowl was placed above his head on the altar. Petra used the droplets to draw a Dathomirian symbol. After she had finished the symbol, she stepped back.
Petra stood perfectly still. Her hands were at her side and the pose was more a tadasana posture. On the surface, everything seemed have stopped. However, Petra was mentally focusing herself, ordering the mind for what was coming. It had to be done like it was done time before.
Slowly her hands turned and rose into the air. A rumbling noise began to fill the church. Like a freight train, thick green ichor barreled out from the catacombs behind her. It split right before hitting Petra, and it circled the altar and her. Spinning around Sedita and Petra, the ichor thicken even more with its increase of flow. Even voices of those that were entombed there had their words. They spoke of the Dathomirian magick and power being pulled into the central location. However, some voices were nothing but echoes. People who original bodies were there, but Petra had brought back to inhabit new bodies. Deep in her mind, a mental note was taken to look for one such person, the daughter who was not on the same planet as she was.
With the magick flowing and charging her more, Petra drove into the force. Reaching deep into the unseen reality of the power that binds the galaxy together, it was that energy which needed to be penetrated. The witch summoned even more of the force to claw through to find Sedita. The deeper she went the more her youthful appearance faded. Decay, undead appearance was rising to the surface for the witch. It was a drain to do so. However she found his presences and began to pull him from the force, the chaos, the afterlife, or whatever one would like to call it. The ichor, the magick funneled upward then came crashing down like a wave on to Sedita’s body when Petra took him from the force. The smoke flowed through him as his presences was restored to the body. Then it blasted outward from all angles before fading into nothing.
The spirits had gone back to rest. Petra took the now empty bowl from the altar and placed with the others next to the urns. She knew how she looked just from witnessing her hands when the bowl was taken. If one had to describe her appearance, then it would have been something close to the Crypt Keeper. As she dealt with her vanity (appearance) and the force, Sedita’s next phase was on him. It was now his choice to awaken among the living or remain there until another death came to release him from the body.
