Alkor Centaris
Son of Liberty
He placed both hands on the altar and stared into an abyss.
Blood trickled from two fresh lacerations on his chest into the stygian pool, and steam rose off the surface to sting his face. Meaningless words in a language he understood, but could not comprehend resounded in the chamber around him, and his pupils dilated. Alkor gripped the dias to prevent himself from collapsing.
Acolytes with unseen faces swarmed around him, keeping careful distance as the dark energies sequestered inside him slowly flowed to freedom. He had no commitment to undergo this ritual, nor did any among the Sith.
He chose to give his proof of damnation, not to prove himself to anyone, but to test himself. He did it to ascend higher, and to surpass greater challenges. "Few who partake in these trials ever survive," the eldest of the Kissai murmured, a haunting voice that echoed in his ears even as reality grew hazy. Other sounds drowned as though under water, or faded entirely.
Reddened like fire, Alkor's eyes rested on the one thing in focus. The Priest at his side. Rage flared within the Jen'jidai as his life flickered and washed away through open wounds, feeding the greedy basin as it returned his gift with one of its own.
The red skinned being touched his flesh, and heat lanced through his veins. Alkor felt the warmth grow and the pain intensify, and his stomach turned. "Do not taint the mixture," the Kissai warned. "It's vitality is linked to your own. Weakness begets weakness."
He swallowed a mouthful of bile and blinked away the tears that welled up from the sulfuric taste. Perspiration lined his brow as he concentrated- it was all he could do not to give in.
The Priest barked out in High Sith, and the Acolytes swarmed.
Whips cracked and welts rose on the Dark Jedi's back. Skin broke, and blood cascaded down his ribcage. He grit his teeth and his bones groaned. "Do not lose consciousness," he was commanded. "Or you will die."
Alkor let out a ragged breath, then nodded.
Slowly.
Blood trickled from two fresh lacerations on his chest into the stygian pool, and steam rose off the surface to sting his face. Meaningless words in a language he understood, but could not comprehend resounded in the chamber around him, and his pupils dilated. Alkor gripped the dias to prevent himself from collapsing.
Acolytes with unseen faces swarmed around him, keeping careful distance as the dark energies sequestered inside him slowly flowed to freedom. He had no commitment to undergo this ritual, nor did any among the Sith.
He chose to give his proof of damnation, not to prove himself to anyone, but to test himself. He did it to ascend higher, and to surpass greater challenges. "Few who partake in these trials ever survive," the eldest of the Kissai murmured, a haunting voice that echoed in his ears even as reality grew hazy. Other sounds drowned as though under water, or faded entirely.
Reddened like fire, Alkor's eyes rested on the one thing in focus. The Priest at his side. Rage flared within the Jen'jidai as his life flickered and washed away through open wounds, feeding the greedy basin as it returned his gift with one of its own.
The red skinned being touched his flesh, and heat lanced through his veins. Alkor felt the warmth grow and the pain intensify, and his stomach turned. "Do not taint the mixture," the Kissai warned. "It's vitality is linked to your own. Weakness begets weakness."
He swallowed a mouthful of bile and blinked away the tears that welled up from the sulfuric taste. Perspiration lined his brow as he concentrated- it was all he could do not to give in.
The Priest barked out in High Sith, and the Acolytes swarmed.
Whips cracked and welts rose on the Dark Jedi's back. Skin broke, and blood cascaded down his ribcage. He grit his teeth and his bones groaned. "Do not lose consciousness," he was commanded. "Or you will die."
Alkor let out a ragged breath, then nodded.
Slowly.