Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos

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Private Generational Suffering



The Temple Magnus shifted in its place as Maliphant walked through the confines of it's lower halls. On each side there lay laser cells, lined with the remnant survivors of the gladiator tournament only a few days prior. Many were still frenzied and insane, but many more were slumped in the corner of their cells shivering. Not for a lack of heat - but for the trauma they endured over the last few days. Now, yet another Sith seemed the stalk the halls - and any without severe pride cowered from his discerning gaze.

Darth Carnifex Darth Carnifex had already promised him his prize, and Maliphant knew exactly where in the labrynthinian prison it was kept. A young acolyte who hadn't managed to win the scuffle, but had certainly caught Maliphant's attention. His name was Venn Kolis Venn Kolis and Maliphant had taken a sweet spot for him - and with his own need to expand his reputation and influence, Venn had become a step towards his inevitable goal.

When he had rounded the last corner to the Acolyte's laser cell, he ensured his guard were direclty behind him so the young man could see. Brutes in their own right, they stood behind apathetic masks and dark visors - while Maliphant himself carried black eyes and ruby centers, dancing over the young man's form before he spoke.​
"I am Darth Maliphant. You did well during the skirmish. What is your name?", he asked. It was already known to him, of course, but giving the boy a chance to speak would be the first step in seeing just how capable he was.​

 

Venn could feel the man coming before he saw him.

The closest he could come to describing him was like a reverse star. Every step Maliphant took down the dreary corridor sent a new wave of ice through Venn's heart. He half expected to see his breath fog in the stale cell air. Even separated by a laser partition, Venn felt as if there was no hiding from this man. From those eyes.

Darth Empyrean Darth Empyrean was tall, stylishly dressed, and carried himself with a quiet grace that spoke to years of assured power and domination. The prodigy, Kesran Opadal Kesran Opadal , had emanated a similar strength, but only in tone and appearance; in substance, the Darth was on a whole other level.

For unknown hours, Venn had wondered why his life had been spared after the work he'd wrought in the pit. He'd pondered nothing but this question for days without sleep, without sustenance, without movement. Unknowingly, he'd found focus through meditation for the first time. In all his consideration, only one answer seemed to hold sway: Venn was alive because in trying to entertain The Prodigy, he'd managed to entertain somebody else.

And now, that person had come at last.

Sitting against the far wall of his cell, one knee pulled to his chest, Venn raised his eyes slowly, forcing himself to try and hold the Dark Lord's gaze. The young man's skin was gaunt and pale, contrasted by the soot that days later still stained his hands and forearms with a deep black char. Ash was streaked in the corners of his eyes; eyes filled with a natural green being choked out and suffocated by a sick yellow.

"I am Venn."
 


"Venn.", Maliphant repeated.​
It was good that he had the courage to speak - it was a minor challenge, but one would be suprised how easily it was for Force Sensitive acolytes to not even manage to speak words when faced with a power like Maliphant. He had seen it with a number of Sith Lords, a number of Acolytes - at times he blamed the indoctrination, but more often wrote it off as poorly suited personalities. Still, it made him think of something else.

When Maliphant was himself an acolyte, he had no name. Venn was one to be proud of, a moniker - from a mother, a father, perhaps self chosen. For years Maliphant had no name, nothing he would allow anyone to truly claim him by; but in time, he had chosen a psuedonym, and a title. Dorian Harper was a good name to pretend to be under, but one he knew wasn't his own - something Srina Talon Srina Talon would enjoy to hear. Maliphant was a title he had claimed - but while under the manipulations of mind control. Even it, while something to be proud of, was still not his own in some sense.

His lips pursed at the thought as the eyes glanced back down to the boy. With a slight nod, one of the guards nearest him pressed a button on his energy cage - and the red grid like lines dissapated with a harsh 'shhzzzp' noise. Maliphant spoke with the same apathetic pride he was known for -

"You need to eat, Venn. Come with me.", he said with a motion of his hand.

When they would walk, he would speak once more;

"How did you come into a place such as this?", he asked without looking. They were trailed by the brutes in black armor, their unseen eyes boring into the back of the young man.​

 

Venn perked up a bit at the mention of food, and left his cell obediently.

On legs stiff from disuse, he walked behind the Dark Lord, not daring to venture to his side, but trying to stay in his peripheral. He ignored the menacing escorts as best he could. In the pit, in his last desperate rampage, he'd slain a pair of guards in similar armor. These men seemed much larger, more dangerous. Even with The Prodigy's polearm, he'd stand no similar chance here.

And of course, Venn understood what was happening. This man, Darth Empyrean Darth Empyrean , wasn't interested in Venn, per se. He wanted that fire; the power that had seized him when his body had been wracked in agony. The strength while starved, the speed while injured, the flames.... they had to be connected. And if Venn could make that power his, if he could become the power, then Maliphant would be interested in Venn. The only problem was, Venn had no idea how he'd done the things he'd done in the pit.

At the sound of the Sith's voice Venn flinched, then after a pause, he answered the question. "They came down out of the sky and rounded everyone up. No one fought back. The ones who ran were caught. They took our blood, and priests touches our hands and faces. A few of us were taken, no more than 4 or 5. They put collars on us, gave us numbers. The rest.... were burned."

A thousand questions came to Venn's mind, questions he was certain this man could answer. But the boy didn't even draw breath to ask. He didn't dare. It was enough that he was apparently being taken to food. The thought that Maliphant might be lying floated by harmlessly. Why would he lie to a slave? And what could Venn do about it? This man's will would be done. That much was already clear.
 
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"A force relocation.", he mused to himself more than to Venn.​
It was assumed that was the case, Carnifex often held no qualms about force servitude as Maliphant did, but he was not in the position to save so many damned souls from their cells on his moral whim alone. He was not the Emperor, nor was he Carnifex's better - at least for now. Instead he'd ignore it - as he often did with other Sith's efforts, and mind his own hypocrisy in the meantime.​
"Often those without the mean's to defend themselves are left to the dust. It is the way of things, and something you have thus far overcome. Do not mistake your survival for chance, or for destiny - it is the result of your efforts alone.", he said with a partial glance to the apprentice.​
"Take pride in that, and I will cultivate you to bear great fruit, Child."​
When they turned the corner, two more of the guards he had seen were at the end of the hall. Massive and imposing, they stood like pillars around a door that opened to their approach. Beyond the portal was a room of great decadence, and sat upon a large obsidian table was a meal fit for kings. Maliphant motioned to it as he found himself a seat and the door closed behind them.​
"Eat to your heart's content. From this moment, you are a Sith - and Sith are to enjoy every facet of their existence when able. Struggle may be our existence, but temperance is a virtue of the Jedi, not us."​

 

Enjoy every facet of existence. Faced with such incredible food after so long hungry, those words struck the young man in his core. The horrid pit had taught him that selflessness was foolish suicide. If Venn lived only for himself, then didn't it naturally follow that the purpose of life was to be as comfortable, as happy, as safe as possible? You are Sith. If this way of life, these teachings writhing in his unspoken thoughts, were the Sith way, then Venn could only agree with the dark lord.

At Darth Empyrean Darth Empyrean 's permission, Venn rushed to the opulent feast. Quick hands found an empty plate, and began to sample a bit of everything. Any vegetable or plant matter that was brightly colored, he guessed to be vitamin rich, and piled onto his platter. The sweet and honeyed was savored, and then left behind. It was delicious, but not what his aching body needed.

Atop his huge salad he dropped a cut of every kind of meat he could find. He tried a hunk of something that was almost bread, and found it hearty without being sugary. He took the whole loaf, and a tall decanter of water, to his now-full plate and moved the heavy portion to sit across the table from Maliphant. Still having difficulty looking directly at him for very long, he nodded in gratitude before setting upon his food.

The memory of his life before Temple Magnus was still charred and blackened, scorched by the fire that had consumed him in the pit. But Venn retained the sense that this wasn't the first time he'd gone hungry. His hands forced him to eat slowly, despite his desire to wolf down his meal like a starved Orlax. He knew that too much, too quickly? And his body would eject the nutrients, and he'd end up hungrier and sicker than he already was. Best to take this methodically, savor the.... the flavor.... wait. Wait.

The young man swallowed a bite of meat, and his hand, already full of leaves, dropped back to his plate. What had he just compared himself to? It was.... a creature. It was important, wasn't it? Wait, yes! They were only found on his home planet! It was an Or.... he was from On....

Why bother?

His thoughts were incredulous. Why did he care where he was from? His mind was only latching onto the detail out of habit. His base reaction was to cling to the memory, to fill the gaping abyss in his recollection. But there were more worthwhile ways he could use the space.

In one long continuous draught, Venn emptied the water vessel before plunking it down on the dark table and looking up at his new master. Really looked at him. Maybe it was the aid he'd been given, or the way Maliphant's words had struck him, but for one reason or another, Venn felt brave. He felt a light beginning to glow in his stomach again, and there was just enough impetuous in his heart to ask a single question. So he asked the only question that really mattered.

"What does it mean to be Sith?"
 


"A question many have attempted to answer, but most fail. A question for the ages, even.", he said with a knowing purr.​
Leaning forward, he plucked a grape from a nearby fruit basket and chewed it. The pop of its thin flesh was visible even with his mouth closed, judging by the small jerk of his jaw muscles - but a moment of chewing later, and he would look back up to see the acolyte once more. His gaze was piercing, ruby embers swimming in obsidian pools, and with them carried the weight of knowledge.​
"In a word, Freedom.", he said simply, but carried on none the less.​
"Once, the Jedi and Sith were a single order - both using our great gifts to strive for freedom. Freedom from opressors of every sort, of every caliber, of every creed; but in time we departed from one another in our methods. The Jedi lost sight of true opression, of true tyrants - they believe now that they can save every soul from great evil by topping authoritarian regimes and warlords. In doing so, they spread strife - burn cities built on efficiency and purpose, creating refugees where there was once a happy working family with purpose..."​
He sighed loudly before leaning back once more.

"They are misguided. In their short sightedness, they have allowed themselves to become the Judicars of the Great Tyrant. Yet what great evil could do what not even the Sith could; to enslave the Jedi to their own will and hold the galaxy hostage on their strength?"​
A squint, as if testing the acolyte for the answer before filling the blank in himself.​
"The Force itself. Destiny. The great cycle - that which forces war upon children, murder on the innocent, and slavery on the poor. For our rebellion against the greatest power in the universe, we are scorned with scars that mark us to the world...", the lord said with a motion to his own eyes.​
"This galaxy is controlled by a great throne controlled by the ever weakening hand of the Celestials. To be Sith is to fight that tyranny, to strive for freedom from destiny itself - to choose your own fate, whatever it is you choose it to be. And in time, to raise the Sith'ari to their greatest place - as the God of this Universe, and the herald of a new utopia. With no destiny to enslave us."​
"That is what it means to be Sith. To rebel against the Great Tyrant."​

 

He was a rebel. A rebel against the very cycle that drove the galaxy onward in its awful spiral. Whoa.

The epic weight and responsibility of this realization fell upon Venn in that moment, as if the gravity in the room had just increased. Suddenly the man's awesome power made total sense. Matched against mere men, Maliphant's strength might have seemed almost unnecessary. But he was a soldier in an impossibly vast war. Venn had been asked to survive a pit full of crazy people, and the experience had given him flames. What incredible power must Maliphant have developed after matching himself against Destiny itself? And what awful cost must have been exacted from him?

Much as he yearned to ask those very questions, Venn could sense he wasn't yet ready for those answers. Hadn't earned them. Instead he set his food aside and looked at his teacher with a new sense of reverence and respect. Though some part of him still feared Maliphant, the idea of such an astronomical enemy as Destiny Itself bearing down on the both of them made Maliphant feel more like.... his commander.

"I'm not ready.... Master. But I want to be. I want to know everything I can."

Standing from his seat, Venn faced Maliphant across the table and held his fist up to his eye level. Glaring at his clenched hand, he reached out for that rage he'd felt in the Temple pit, and found instead something even more potent. The thrill of true purpose. A treacherous calling. A static swelling inside him, like the warm crackling wind that came just before a thunderstorm.

A spark flashed before the boy's eyes. His fist was engulfed in a bright orange flame. And it hurt.

But not as badly as before.
 


"Fire is the greatest personification of passion, Venn.", he spoke as he leaned forward.​
"What you hold in your hand now is what makes you a person - what makes you singularly alone in this Galaxy. The Force can feel you draw on your own power, it will try and isolate you for it; know that the only companionship we have is in our Order, in those we choose to bring to our side."​
With that, Maliphant slid his chair back and stood. Motioning to one of the PRAETORIAN soldiers near him, Maliphant spoke once more;​
"See to it that Acolyte Kolis recieves a bath, a haircut, and whatever it is he needs. I want muscle on his frame.", he said to the faceless guard.​
"You journey begins today, Venn Kolis Venn Kolis - and I will shepherd you through it as long as you require it. So long as I live, you shall not want nor need - and in exchange, you will cultivate great strength. I need to be proud of you, so make me so."​
---​
Aboard the Acerbitas...​
874 ABY​
Amidst the Sith Estates at the rear of the ship, Maliphant stood amongst his forge fiends. Their hammers banged against metal as they forged and poured darksteel ball after dark steel ball; all while the eyeless, shirtless Maliphant watched. He had yet to remove the scars of his capture, nor would he show them willingly to most - but the heat of the room had forced him to prefer comfort to impressions. The Great Lord was scarred - even if he wanted to hide it now, he could not.​
Afterall, his eyes were missing. In their place great cavities remained - fleshy and scabbed. For his efforts, most the damage was gone; but he had not seen it fit to replace his eyes with simple organic replacements like so many others. His mark of the Sith was gone; his new symbol would something greater. Yellow eyes were a sign of great corruption - a mark of success to those who bore it; and Maliphant had long transcended that. His eyes were a black void with floating ruby centers - a sign of how deep his corruption ran.​
Now, they were gone; jewels lost to Mandalorian Blaster Fire and Siv Dragr Siv Dragr 's knife. He frowned at such - but at least his efforts were not a complete waste. After his release, he had sold the information of The Enclave's homeworld on the holonet for a hefty price; exposing them to the galaxy at large. For his eyes, he threatened the security of a burgeoning empire; and in that regard he imagined it was a fair trade.​
Now with arms crossed, he waited for the forging to complete so he could impart upon them great spells and incantations. One of the most skilled alchemists in the galaxy, Maliphant was feared for the artifacts he could create; and he would put his all into ensuring that his new eyes would be something everyone would fear. A step above the glorious corruption his once pristine obsidian ones were - a mark of his success as a Sith.​
The door behind him slid open, and his head adjusted slightly - then he relaxed once more as he spoke;​
"Venn. It's good for you to be here.", he said simply, his attention seemingly focused back on the forge masters.​

 


His hands twisting anxiously, Venn stepped into the forge and walked slowly to his master. He'd hardly seen Maliphant since the ordeal on Kestri, and the time intermediary had allowed him ample time to overthink, to worry, and to critique himself. Now he moved to stand almost at Maliphant's side, halting just behind.

"Master."

Beyond that word, which was so appropriate and fitting for the man who'd given him his new life, Venn found himself totally unsure what to say. Venn's master had a way of always being so.... honest? Genuine. Straightforward in his presentation, while endless secrets flitted just out of reach of his cool demeanor. Deciding he was being foolish, Venn simply let his own thoughts spill out, a few drops of magma at a time.

"I will not rest until the Enclave have been made to burn for this atrocity. I know it might have been... reckless of me, to go to Kestri myself. My powers have grown in the course of my pilgrimage, but I am still far from a servant worthy of your power. When I learned of your capture, I felt I had failed you. I wish for the strength to punish any who dare challenge our freedom. I want to be worthy of the title Sith."

The flame-forged Sithspawn all around Venn were a marvel to watch in their craft, but rather than observing them closely, Venn's eyes numbly stared straight ahead as he waited to hear his master's word.
 
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"Stop groveling, Child.", Maliphant said without scorn. A plain command, barren of any emotion besides the stern undercurrent of his presence.​
The forge master walked towards Maliphant with another darksteel ball. Venn Kolis Venn Kolis would feel the darkness leaking from the artifact - screams of a thousand dead force sensitives condensed into the confines of an eyeball styled steel ball that both empowered and threatened ones very sanity. As soon as it touched Maliphant's hand it quieted down to nothing - almost inperceptible as he studied it.​
"It was a ploy on my own part. I got captured on purpose - and don't think I didn't end the lives of more than enough to make up for what occured."​
He didn't mention that it was thousands of dead mandalorians prior to him ever being captured - but that seemed like a minor detail at this point.​
"If I needed your protection, I wouldn't be a good teacher - would I?", he said idly, passing the ball back to the forge master with a frown. The sithspawn offered him a deep bow and returned to the forge - dropping it into hot magma nearest where their hammers lay heavy on a highly decorated anvil.​
"Protect yourself and only yourself for now, Venn. In time you will have the strength to protect more - but it is a mistake to let yourself be strained so thin. When you are strong enough to protect yourself, then you can become strong enough to protect another - but at this moment, you can't do either."​

 


Though he was being reprimanded and set aright in his course, the words of his master reassured Venn, and renewed his confidence. Of course this had all transpired according to Darth Empyrean Darth Empyrean 's design. To think otherwise had been folly on Venn's part. Freedom- true freedom, had to be the power to protect all that one desired to preserve. Of course that was something a novice like Venn wouldn't yet have. Rather than apologize for groveling (which would have been just more groveling,) Venn inclined his head. "Yes, my master."

Even as his master's touch quieted the steel sphere in his palm, the screams still echoed in Venn's ears. As he pondered the mystery of Sith Alchemy, an art foreign to him, he realized the voices he'd heard calling though the Force could only have been screams of those who were Force-Sensitive. It was a chilling reminder to Venn that even his ability to use the Force did not make him indispensable or unique. Maliphant was right; Venn's foremost goal had to be to become infinitely more valuable as a living asset than a screaming soul in an alchemized artifact.

To this end, his journey to Korriban's blasted desert had borne fruit. "The Pilgrims on Korriban used rings of petrified wood to venture into the hivemind of the Drengir; ravenous plant monsters. Linked with their psyche, I saw one of their ancient memories, a memory of the Sith of Old sealing them away inside statues. The preparation of the statues, I did not see, but the sealing technique I've been able to use to keep the Drengir from my mind. How best can I develop this power?"
 
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Maliphant moved his head towards Venn as he spoke - as though he could see him; but his lack of eyes cleared any assumption of such instantly. Empty socks stared at Venn as he spoke of the Drengir, of the efforts old Sith used to seal them away. When Venn came to his question, Maliphant blinked - more out of habit, but it was noticeable for the lack of tension on his lids.​
"Be careful of the Drengir, Venn. They are a dangerous hivemind.", though the warning was likely already fully understood.​
"The Drengir were sealed through artifacts that dampened the Force and put them into stasis. The artifact itself was not advanced nor is the technique applied in other ways.", he said simply.​
"Often a Sith strengthens their abilities in the fire's of conflict - but we rarely recieve a second chance at if we fail. Were I to make a suggestion, practicing the strength of one's mind is best done against those without mortal intent. Drengir or not, invading one's mind is often done in the same manner."​
"Willpower is the key aspect of a good mental fortitude. Staving off a Drengir, or Jedi's, will comes down to simply overcoming it - most of the time, at least."​

 


The dark red of Maliphant's sockets, flecked with the black and brown of dried blood, glanced in his direction. Venn felt as though the floor had shifted under him. There was something in those deep hollows that was otherworldly. He listened attentively, nodding at his teacher's instructions. Practice mental domination against those without mortal intent.... Venn enshrined the counsel for later.

Willpower was key... most of the time? But then, did that mean Venn had overcome the collective willpower of all Dregir on his own? A mere novice, who had yet to even acquire a lightsaber? The Dark Side was incredible, but the apprentice couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to it. It never entered into Venn's head that Maliphant could be mistaken about his sealing skill. That was a laughable notion. The Dark Lord's knowledge was a planet of secrets to Venn's grain of sand. Which meant that something else had to be going on with Venn's ring. That would warrant further experimentation.... but was not worth agitating his master with more questions.

The Sithspawn around him seemed to give off their own heat, and standing in the presence of Maliphant's aura of unnatural cold, Venn felt as though he were trapped in the midst of two conflicting powers. He fell to one knee and trained his eyes on the floor, grinning at the relief that it still was to have his master back. "Thank you for your counsel. I will anxiously await my next lesson or task; however, you are engaged in a great work. Shall I withdraw to the ship's training deck?"
 
"I do not do great work yet - I only observe it.", Maliphant corrected gently.​
"Stay. You should witness these things yourself. Doubly so, resistanting the mental influence of the Dark Steel may help in your goal. I assume you heard the screams?"​
He glanced towards Venn Kolis Venn Kolis once more, a cock of the brow forcing his dropped eyelid to shift uncomfortably.​
 


Marveling at his master's humility, Venn turned his attention from the Sithspawn laboring dilligently for Maliphant to the fruit of their labor. "Yes. I could hear. They're little more than whispers, now..." He stepped towards his master slowly, curiously observing the orb in Maliphant's grasp. He listened closer for the voices he'd heard, and realized he was listening with more than his ears.

There were specific emotions that Venn had never used to tap into the Dark Side before, emotions that seemed well-suited for the honing of the senses. The thirst for knowledge, and the fear of ignorance. This desire and fear went beyond lusting for power or fearing humiliation before Maliphant (although these certainly burned within his chest as well,) but were separate kinds of Fear and Desire: as Venn's appreciation for Knowledge grew, so too did the genuine fear of living in the shadow of incomprehension. One bright jewel of understanding made Venn truly hunger after more for its own sake.

Of course, those further gems of understanding would also help him stay valuable to his master, and avoid ending up like the souls screaming in the tiny orb before him. When the wailing suddenly became louder, assailing Venn's ears and hurting him, he reactively flared up in anger and fear... and then let his inquisitiveness take the reins again. The volume grew quieter, and the words became clearer, more distinct.

"It's incredible..."
 


"Indeed it is.", he said.​
He let the force pull the ball of metal from his hand and offered it - hovering - to Venn Kolis Venn Kolis . Its intricate details, the slight waves in its metal folds - and the intricate sense that it contained hundreds of partial souls locked in eternal torment. What was held in his hand was an alchemic masterpiece - but one of the greatest evils to ever come to the galaxy, were he sensitive to such things. For Maliphant, it seemed that it was nothing more than common iron - passing it aside so easily.​
"Every ounce that exists I created myself. Those dead within are those I killed, every ounce of that metal is the great weight of my own sin. For it, I have created the strongest metal in the galaxy - and a boon to any Sith that would hold it upon them. Control its nature and you can hold off most - make armor of it, and you'd be invincible to all but the greatest warriors. Keep that, Venn, work with it. It will serve you in the coming years - until you can master it yourself."​

 


Its awful beauty seemed appropriate when appreciated alongside the dark truth of its creation. Taking the steel ball in his hands, the chorus of agony flooded into the boy's ears, deafening him, his vision going wild with static. What was mere iron to Darth Empyrean Darth Empyrean ? was a reliquary to Venn.

All around him the pained sirens swirled, reaching out with their screeching, begging for sympathy, demanding justice, wailing about mercy, or simply screaming. The boy's curiosity had brought every one of these cries into perfect clarity to his ears. Now that clarity was going to split his head in two. The pounding pain was bringing back some vague recollection from his old life; some kind of animal had kicked him in the head? Wasn't really helping anything. Venn swayed on his feet, crouched as if about to fall to his knees...

And then he dug in his stance and began to stand tall again. "Enough!"

The shout fell from his lips unintentionally. Immediately the volume around him fell, but only began to rise in pitch again. The room came back into focus, then began to slip away again in the blur and the shadow. But Venn knew what he was seeing, what he was hearing. He spoke again, without his voice this time, the way the Drengir spoke to him. Mind to mind.

You are shattered pieces of broken people. You died for the sake of the greatest of causes, most worthy of fights. And now you will serve me in that cause. Are your stories tragic and unfortunate? Undoubtedly. Were your happy endings worth the preservation of Destiny's Tyranny? NO. If you are not Sith, then your very existence can only further the destructive cycle of the Galaxy. So scream all you want. I can't hear you.

And suddenly, he couldn't. Holding the little ball up to glint in the light of the forge, a little smirk slipped onto Venn's face unconsciously. "Yeah, I think I've got some idea what to do with you."

Only then did the boy fall to his knees; not out of pain and confusion, but respect and gratitude. "I shall work diligently to use it to its potential."
 
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"See that you do.", he said with a quiet consideration of Venn's shout.​
When the next pair of eyes were handed to Maliphant, he nodded and walked to a nearby table. It black obsidian marked with tool scars and wear. In the center lines converged to hold artifacts - and to drip lava into their creation. Maliphant rested the eyes in their places and pulled a level above them - letting the hot liquid magma drip through the cracks and find their hold beneath the eyes. Quietly, he began to mouth something - Venn may recognize it as ancient Sith, ur-Kittat spoken fluently and without hesitation.​
Hands hovered over metal as screams began to grow - loud and pained, they begged for forgiveness, for retribution, for an end to all their suffering. Maliphant ignored these, spoke his incantations and worked tirelessly to instill within those eyes a great darkness. Venn would feel it - how thick the Dark Side was becomining in the air. It felt like breathing oil, slick and wet down his esophagus - dripping into his lungs and threatening to hold his breath where it stood.​
The eyes glowed - from heat or the magic it was hard to tell, but they grew in pitch as vibrations began to take them over. Hypersonic, it was more a whine than a true rebellion to their shackles; but it insisted. Amidst it, Maliphant raised a dagger from the wall as his own chants increase - and a slice across his palm let the blood drip onto both. The eyes sizzled, but the blood did not fall away in steam - but rather filled the glyphs and marks on the iron to form their own cooling patterns.​
Maliphant stabbed the dagger into the table's far edge - and lifted the eyes with each hand. Their heat seemed not to bother him, but his chants grew as he raised them above his head. Heavy, harsh, hot - the room was spinning with the energies before Maliphant shoved both orbs into his empty sockets; and the sizzling returned. The smell of burnt flesh, the muffled groans of Maliphant as he leaned forward over the table. Smoke rolled from his eye sockest and his chest heaved.​
And when it stopped, he would turn and look at his apprentice. In the sockets, their existed the glowing incarnation of his eyes - with a fiery red pupil to greet him. Charred skin fell away to show undamaged flesh beneath - and a smile grew on Maliphant's lips as sight returned to him once more.​
"Alchemy is a great gift for the Sith, Venn. In time, you will come to know it as I do - come to utilize it as I do."​
"Know me for the greatest Alchemist to ever live, and consider yourself fortunate you may learn under me.", he laughed.​
Hearty and healthy - heat permeating from his body like a furnace. In this moment, he seemed barely human at all.​

 


He was triumph incarnate.

Venn remained on one knee and looked up in awe, the first to look at Darth Empyrean Darth Empyrean in his new eyes. Once he'd been told that true freedom lay in fighting a fight that seemed by its nature impossible. In that moment, Venn could see it. A vision of what it was to live outside the constraints of Fate; the cruel march of time's tragedy and senseless depravity. Freedom, truly earned. Fought for. Bled for. Forged, crafted, perfected. Won. Maliphant was victory.

A chuckle born of actual joy fell from Venn's wide grin unbidden as he looked his master- his hero, in the eye. Dreams of laser swords and starships were gone from the apprentice's mind. Because every molecule of Venn believed it; he was in the presence of the greatest alchemist to ever live. And he counted himself as more than fortunate.

He was ready to become.
 

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