Darth Abyss
Eldritch
Katarr, The Drowned Archives
"My lord, I ... I'm sorry. Please, spare my live. Please I have seen what happens to the dead."
Abyss stood motionless, an empty husk, an abomination that defied reality as the woman kneeling on the ground had defied him. Her name was not important, her face, her thoughts and fears were not important, only her treason. He had found her, a dirty street rat living in the wretched depths of Nar Shaddaa, he had given her power, knowledge and a place where twisted minds like hers found a home. He had allowed her to become a Necromancer, a honor few of his Warlocks had been granted, and yet she had not only disrespected, but betrayed him.
"Silence Insect. Your fate was decided the second you raised your blade against me."
The hollow armor stepped forward, a claw like hand reaching for the throat of the woman and lifting her up with ease. Her blue eyes meet the empty eye sockets of the Mindeater, allowing her to stare deeply into the abyss within him. There was no twisted laugh, no mockery or taunting words spoken by the lord of deception, only cold hunger that lingered over her body and mind.
"Fear not, death is a luxury you have not earned. I have a fate far worse in mind for you."
Fear began to grow in the eyes of the woman, and yet no tears and no screaming emerged from her body. Even now she did her best to defy him, even now she desired to remain unbroken. Abyss would not allow her, he had given her to much to show the smallest hint of mercy. While his right was still wrapped around her throat, his left slowly rose towards her forehead. There it was, her first scream. All in his service that had been granted the right to stand so close to his presence knew what it meant if the Prophet lifted his hand.
The screams grew louder into a violent crescendo. Then silence, as all signs of a mind faded from the eyes of the woman, almost all she had been devoured by the endless hunger of the Mindeater. That alone would've been a fate far worse then death, but he was not yet done with her. Her live had been dedicated to raising the death under his tutelage, and now she would learn why he was the master, and she merely another meaningless insect he had forged to serve him.
Coldly the husk placed the shell of the woman on the ground, beginning an experiment he had planned the day he had sensed her betrayal, weeks before she herself had even known about. From a storage container close by he reached for a simple set of armor, light and weak compared to the one that made up his whole being. It would not protect her, it would imprisoned her to serve until the end of the galaxy itself.
The first step was to place her body within the not yet cursed steel, then using the tip of his lightsaber to melt the parts together to inhibited her from ever taking it off, leaving slight burned marks on her skin in the process. Once again the husk walked to the container, reaching for a myriad of scribbled notes full of sith runes and twisted spells.
He lowered down his hollow body, a long claw starting to etch a copy of the runes into the armor, two sets of six runes each, creating to perfect hexagons on the backside of the armor. They would serve to give to force form. Then he reached into the boot on his left foot, retrieving the odd knife hidden there. Without hesitation he rammed the blade into her exposed throat, just deep enough to have her bleed out in a matter of few minutes. Satisfied he pulled out the blade, dropping the blood on it onto each of the runes. They all emitted a slight crimson glow, burning into the armor and into the skin of the woman below.
Then he began the last step, the incantation that would tell the runes exactly what to do. First would come her curse, then her newfound strength. Words in the old language of the sith began to fill the air, broken echoes and whispers that allowed him to bend reality as he desired.
"Satpejona pradzia darval, mirtis zinot nenx armijio visita. Buti nuyak xarnait dabar ir dekomet, is luai ir mirtis, ana dekomet diable guduma ra." ("Traitor rise again, death had not yet called. Be my servant now and forever, in live and death, walk forever cursed undead.")
The woman inside the armor opened her eyes, and an silent scream emerged from her lungs, her cut throat allowing for no real sound to pass through. She looked at the sith lord, who had began to fill her mind with bits and pieces of her old mind, only the few things he would need to serve him, and not a single true memory of her old self. Now it was time to truly make her new, a weapon of his designed, a weapon unseen to those with the force.
"Vuts buti nie letas is tu'iea raka, kad is manosi. Buti aikstus ra, buti girdeti ra, buti tave wo lauke zo vuts kia visita sh'jatau." ("Fate is no longer in your hands, but in mine. Be unseen, be unheard, be the one without a fate to call upon.")
From one moment to another the woman faded from Abyss otherworldly vision, erased from the sight into the future, the past. Now she was truly Fateless.
"My lord, I ... I'm sorry. Please, spare my live. Please I have seen what happens to the dead."
Abyss stood motionless, an empty husk, an abomination that defied reality as the woman kneeling on the ground had defied him. Her name was not important, her face, her thoughts and fears were not important, only her treason. He had found her, a dirty street rat living in the wretched depths of Nar Shaddaa, he had given her power, knowledge and a place where twisted minds like hers found a home. He had allowed her to become a Necromancer, a honor few of his Warlocks had been granted, and yet she had not only disrespected, but betrayed him.
"Silence Insect. Your fate was decided the second you raised your blade against me."
The hollow armor stepped forward, a claw like hand reaching for the throat of the woman and lifting her up with ease. Her blue eyes meet the empty eye sockets of the Mindeater, allowing her to stare deeply into the abyss within him. There was no twisted laugh, no mockery or taunting words spoken by the lord of deception, only cold hunger that lingered over her body and mind.
"Fear not, death is a luxury you have not earned. I have a fate far worse in mind for you."
Fear began to grow in the eyes of the woman, and yet no tears and no screaming emerged from her body. Even now she did her best to defy him, even now she desired to remain unbroken. Abyss would not allow her, he had given her to much to show the smallest hint of mercy. While his right was still wrapped around her throat, his left slowly rose towards her forehead. There it was, her first scream. All in his service that had been granted the right to stand so close to his presence knew what it meant if the Prophet lifted his hand.
The screams grew louder into a violent crescendo. Then silence, as all signs of a mind faded from the eyes of the woman, almost all she had been devoured by the endless hunger of the Mindeater. That alone would've been a fate far worse then death, but he was not yet done with her. Her live had been dedicated to raising the death under his tutelage, and now she would learn why he was the master, and she merely another meaningless insect he had forged to serve him.
Coldly the husk placed the shell of the woman on the ground, beginning an experiment he had planned the day he had sensed her betrayal, weeks before she herself had even known about. From a storage container close by he reached for a simple set of armor, light and weak compared to the one that made up his whole being. It would not protect her, it would imprisoned her to serve until the end of the galaxy itself.
The first step was to place her body within the not yet cursed steel, then using the tip of his lightsaber to melt the parts together to inhibited her from ever taking it off, leaving slight burned marks on her skin in the process. Once again the husk walked to the container, reaching for a myriad of scribbled notes full of sith runes and twisted spells.
He lowered down his hollow body, a long claw starting to etch a copy of the runes into the armor, two sets of six runes each, creating to perfect hexagons on the backside of the armor. They would serve to give to force form. Then he reached into the boot on his left foot, retrieving the odd knife hidden there. Without hesitation he rammed the blade into her exposed throat, just deep enough to have her bleed out in a matter of few minutes. Satisfied he pulled out the blade, dropping the blood on it onto each of the runes. They all emitted a slight crimson glow, burning into the armor and into the skin of the woman below.
Then he began the last step, the incantation that would tell the runes exactly what to do. First would come her curse, then her newfound strength. Words in the old language of the sith began to fill the air, broken echoes and whispers that allowed him to bend reality as he desired.
"Satpejona pradzia darval, mirtis zinot nenx armijio visita. Buti nuyak xarnait dabar ir dekomet, is luai ir mirtis, ana dekomet diable guduma ra." ("Traitor rise again, death had not yet called. Be my servant now and forever, in live and death, walk forever cursed undead.")
The woman inside the armor opened her eyes, and an silent scream emerged from her lungs, her cut throat allowing for no real sound to pass through. She looked at the sith lord, who had began to fill her mind with bits and pieces of her old mind, only the few things he would need to serve him, and not a single true memory of her old self. Now it was time to truly make her new, a weapon of his designed, a weapon unseen to those with the force.
"Vuts buti nie letas is tu'iea raka, kad is manosi. Buti aikstus ra, buti girdeti ra, buti tave wo lauke zo vuts kia visita sh'jatau." ("Fate is no longer in your hands, but in mine. Be unseen, be unheard, be the one without a fate to call upon.")
From one moment to another the woman faded from Abyss otherworldly vision, erased from the sight into the future, the past. Now she was truly Fateless.