Private Hello Again, Brother

[Veradun Sharr]

​

Location: Mustafar
Time Frame: A Year After the Battle of Woostri
Objective: Reconnect with Someone From the Past



Veradun stared at the encrypted message on his datapiece, his mind slowly turning as he sat in the silence of his personal quarters, deep within the heart of his Master’s fortress on Anoat. The message stirred to life memories the young Nagai had buried deep within himself, and had seemingly forgotten until now. Memories of a day spent on Faldos, searching for his lost family with a Sith Knight he had come to regard as brother.

Someone whom he was so sure had abandoned him when he came under the authority of the Dark Lord, Darth Nefaron . Someone who was connected to a period of his life that had seemingly died when his High Priest had fallen.

Kasir Dorran .

Last time he’d seen the man had been on the bloodied and war torn world of Woostri over a year prior, when the Sith had waged yet another battle against their ancient foe, the Jedi and the Galactic Alliance. How the man had managed to sneak him a message, he wasn’t entirely sure. But it was in his face now, and he needed to decide what he was going to do about it. He could ignore it, he should ignore it - if he wished to avoid the cruel wrath of his Master.

And yet…there was a small part of Veradun that simply couldn’t let the message go.

Kasir had sent him coordinates, along with a brief message, a reminder of the ties they shared…and a beckoning. The young Apprentice debated back and forth on what he should do…but eventually, the curiosity and stirrings of his old loyalty…won him over. He memorized the coordinates, then erased the message - deleting its presence in hopes that the Corpse Lord wouldn’t catch on to anything.

He then went about his business as usual, as he began to form a plan on how he would slip away from Anoat without the Dark Lord’s notice…or at least, in a way that would be above suspicion.

I could always go on a slave raid. That would please my Master enough, perhaps enough to keep him from discovering this…secret.

It was risky, but it could work. Veradun had left Anoat before to conduct slave raids on his own; this time would be no different. He collected a small squad of Legionnaires to use as a cover, then disembarked from the toxic planet on one of the transport ships. For all intents and purposes, the Apprentice of Darth Nefaron was simply on a self imposed mission to supply his Master with the bodies that he needed to continue his work - ever the dutiful and loyal servant of his twisted overlord.

It wasn’t until they were well out of the Anoat sector, that Veradun enacted the other part of his secret mission. First, he had to get rid of his entourage. Though fierce warriors, the Legionnaires were no match for the growing strength and might of the young Sith. He was too swift, too lethal and precise, for them to counter. He had truly become the perfect assassin for his dark Master - and he would become even more dangerous over time and with continued training.

The last body to drop was that of the pilot. Veradun spent time dragging the corpses to a nearby bay, before sealing it and opening it to the vacuum of space - dropping the bodies out into the frigid darkness. Finally alone, he sat down in the pilot seat and disengaged the tracking beacon, before he input the coordinates he had memorized and set the ship to autopilot before making the jump into hyperspace. The young Nagai then settled back to relax for his trip, though his nerves began to eat away at him - paranoia and nervousness making him alert and jumpy.

What if his Master discovered the true nature of his little outing? What then? If he learned that Veradun had gone to meet with someone from his past, someone connected to Wonosa…then he could see it as a betrayal, and kill Veradun.

Or worse…use that remaining connection to find and destroy the last ties the young man had to his past.

Was it worth the risk? He wasn’t sure yet.

Maybe this was all a mistake…and maybe Kasir had lured him out to kill him, and put a dent into Nefaron’s plans and schemes. Veradun didn’t believe he could fight Kasir off - but he would certainly give the man his best fight. Still, there was the faintest of hopes within the boy’s cold heart that maybe, just maybe, Kasir’s intentions were not to kill him - but to try and reconnect.

They were like brothers, afterall.

Kasir was all that Veradun had left from his old life.

The ship dropped out of hyperspace, just outside a planet the boy wasn’t familiar with, but one that simmered with dark energy and presence within the Force. Whatever this place was, was deeply rooted to the dark side. Taking manual control of the ship, Veradun guided it towards the planet’s surface, breaking through its atmosphere to get a view of the surface beyond. The landscape bore signs of geologic upheaval; old and fresh, black lava flows could be seen - and there was a toxic haze that drifted over the desolate landscape. The coordinates guided the youthful Nagai towards a rocky outcrop, and he set the ship to autoland and set it down nearby, before powering down. Wariness still clung to Veradun; he was nervous of his Master tracking him here, but he was sure that he had covered his tracks enough to slip through the Corpse Lord’s watch…if only for a short time.

He took several long moments to pull himself together and reduce some of his Force presence. He made sure his weapon, a simple katana in a sheath, was at his side - and checked his hidden dagger on his right arm one more time, before he disengaged the ramp and allowed the oppressive heat and choking air of the planet to drift over him. Silently, he emerged from the belly of the transport ship, and stepped foot upon the blackened ground - pale eyes searching everywhere around him, waiting…

 

[Kasir Dorran]

Veradun Sharr

Kasir sat in silence deep within the Wonosan enclave., the cold stone wrapping around him like a grave he wished would consume him entirely. To him, time had begun to lose meaning, for moments were longer bound together. Seconds of years, there wasn’t any tangible difference now, but instead echoes of what had once been, and what might never be again. Beneath the pale visage, something darker writhed constantly, a connection bounder to a former member of the same dark doctrine he continued to follow. It was quiet, but over time, it became a constant itch at his will, always threatening to break his silence.

Trying to locate the boy had proven to be more challenging than expected, always just out of his reach, cloaked in something deeper. Veradun was one that felt like more than an ally; unlike others who were but a name soon to be forgotten, this was someone gave him the faintest flicker to any humanity he’d ever known, and perhaps the only semblance of family experienced since his days in the gutters of Dromund Kaas. And since the carnage on Woostri, it was a name that plagued him more than ever. Aside from the molten flames, the energy of Mustafar continued licking at the edges of the enclave, conjuring reflections that felt real. Tonight, there was no attempt to hide his presence, for he was never one to suppress his recklessness. The attempt to do so was abandoned long ago, forever flirting with the finality of death, as if offered what he craved; instead, it was a promise that only teased him.

Like every other night, his meditation was anything but a peaceful retreat; rather, it was a descent straight into the tempest. As the Sangnir shifted through the different waves of fury and despair, his senses became sharp like a blade, drinking in the silence around like a fine vintage. Amidst his tormenting thoughts, a disturbance ripped through the air. Lifeless orbs, void of emotion, snapped open for the first time in hours, piercing through all that they fell upon. Within the depths of his black heart, something stirred; and so, it was possible that the young Nagai had finally answered his call; and unlike Kasir, also chose to not let a shared past simply rot away.

A beat later his presence was stepping through the building's many hidden passages; every twist and turn was etched into his psyche. Before long, an outcrop rose in the landscape of the one place that truly felt like home. Raven locks and reflections of his skin peeked out from a cloak’s hood. There, the boy stood; he appeared older, bigger, and without a doubt having grown in prowess as well. When he approached, without hurry, the shadows parted instinctively, letting it be known that darkness was now one to bow in his presence.

Kasir allowed a long stretch of silence to hang between them. It was then he assessed the figure with the same ruthless precision of a hunter sizing up prey, measuring him not as one that should have been a brother, but a threat.

Finally, a slow exhale escaped from his lips. "You've changed."

Standing like a sentinel in the current spot, his hands casually rotated, showing that he was unarmed.

"It's strange," he murmured, "what we choose to carry with us. Some moments fade away with ease, gone before we even notice, but others.." His gaze flickered, not quite sharp, nor was it soft, "some refuse to be buried, no matter how much we try to forget them."

A beat passed. “I wasn’t sure if you’d come,” he admitted. “And now I wonder how much of the old Veradun still remains.”

 

[Veradun Sharr]

Tag: Kasir Dorran​

The Nagai didn’t have to wait long before his presence was noticed, and pale eyes shifted to land upon the shadowed figure that emerged from within the rocky outcrop before him. Veradun watched the figure closely, noticing how the shadows seemed to bend away, like a slave before the presence of its master.

Kasir came to a halt across from Veradun, and both Sith eyed one another as one might a potential enemy. The Nagai made no move against the other Sith, however, and Kasir revealed in his subtle way that he was not armed.

"You've changed." Kasir said after a long exhale.

Veradun’s stance didn’t change, nor did the expression upon his face. “I could say the same about you.” he murmured, before his eyes narrowed slightly. “There is something…different about you now.”

"It's strange, what we choose to carry with us. Some moments fade away with ease, gone before we even notice, but others…some refuse to be buried, no matter how much we try to forget them." Veradun listened in silence as Kasir spoke, tilting his head ever so slightly as he pondered the meaning behind the other Sith’s words. “I wasn’t sure if you’d come, and now I wonder how much of the old Veradun still remains.” Kasir admitted quietly to the Nagai across from him, and for the first time there was movement on the boy’s pale and emotionless face - a faint half smirk.

“I debated the risks in coming. I almost didn’t. But…as you said, some things remain - despite how hard we try to bury them.”

A heartbeat or two passed, before the faint smirk slipped away and was replaced by the near emotionless mask the young man wore. “As for much of the old Veradun remains, well…let's just say my Master has done a good job of destroying what was. I’ve had to…adapt…to survive. To be the apprentice the Dark Lord desires me to be.”

There was another pause as the Nagai regarded the other man across from him, probing with the Force in a subtle way as one might when assessing a threat. “And how much of the old Kasir remains, hmm? Where is the man that helped the Nagai boy through the streets of Faldos, those years ago? Is he still there, I wonder…?”

 

[Kasir Dorran]

Veradun Sharr

The Darkseeker’s gaze was steady upon Veradun, unreadable. When he noticed the half smirk, his statue-like stillness flickered, so brief it could have been imagined, but undeniably beneath the Sangnir’s icy detachment. His posture remained rigid, shoulders squared, hands casually relaxed at his sides; it had been honed by discipline, by necessity. But there was a hesitation, a weight behind his eyes, one that only someone who knew him well might catch.

"Change was inevitable. I had to evolve.. just as you did."

The words were sharper than intended.

Truth often carried teeth.

Kasir inhaled slowly, the heat of Mustafar curling into his lungs, heavy with ruin. Words had never been his weapon. They had always been difficult, slipping from his lips like daggers that never quite landed where intended. Perhaps that was why he had found purpose in silence, in the precision of a dual blades, in the obedience to a Sith Lord who asked only for loyalty.

It had been simple.

It had been enough.

"I was Sangnir before I had the chance to question if I wanted to be. The process was… thorough. Efficient. It ensured I was not forgotten into the void. Though.. the result still lingers like a curse, even now." Kasir’s gaze darkened. Some part of him, buried deep within the abyss of his mind, admitted that he was simply reluctant to see the boy alive.

Because seeing Veradun meant facing himself— facing the memories.

He considered pressing further, testing the edges of whatever might still remain between them.

"When you stand before your Master.. does he truly see you, Veradun?" The question lingered. Kasir’s head tilted slightly, as if studying something he never fully understood. "Or have you simply become what he needs.. a blade, a shadow, nothing more?"

 

[Veradun Sharr]

Tag: Kasir Dorran​

Veradun didn’t flinch when Kasir’s sharp words about change flashed out to bite into him, for he knew the man was right. Both of them had to change, had to evolve, in order to become whatever it was that they were now. But just what sort of change had occurred in the man Veradun had considered to be a brother, was still yet to be revealed.

A tense silence persisted between the two of them for a few moments, before Kasir spoke once more - telling the Nagai how he’d become this ‘sangnir’ before he had truly processed if he even wanted to be whatever that was. The pale teenager’s eyes narrowed slightly as he received the information, his sharp mind turning as he tried to understand.

What did Kasir mean…that becoming this sangnir…spared him from becoming forgotten in the void?

What even was a sangnir? Kasir didn’t look much different from the last time Veradun had seen him…but perhaps there were changes he wasn’t aware of. The boy was in his thoughts, when the Sith before him asked him some thought provoking questions.

"When you stand before your Master.. does he truly see you, Veradun?" Kasir tilted his head as if to study the young Nagai for a moment, before he pressed further with his statement. "Or have you simply become what he needs.. a blade, a shadow, nothing more?"

For several dozen heartbeats, Veradun simply stared at Kasir, contemplating the words before he decided how he wished to answer them.

“My Master sees what he wants to see, and he has the power to make it be so. For now.” Veradun stated carefully, his voice cold and clear, before ending in a growl as his icy blue eyes flickered with something hidden within him. “I do whatever it is he bids me to…because it permits me to stay in his favor. And the longer I am in his favor, the more I learn how and where I can destroy him when I have no more use for him as a Master.”

The Nagai eyed Kasir for a moment, letting his words hang between them, before he spoke further - his voice still clear and soft, but this time carrying a hint of emotion that once existed in a younger version of himself. “If I was nothing more than his blade, his shadow…then I wouldn’t have come. I came to find the man who became like a brother to me…and I hoped that I might find him here.”

Pale eyes glimmered as they locked upon Kasir’s darkened gaze, as he bluntly and coldly laid out the choices that were before the two of them: “So…Kasir…sangnir…whatever that is - are you that brother I am seeking? Or will you become just another body left in the shadows to rot?”

 

[Kasir Dorran]

Veradun Sharr

Kasir’s gaze remained sharp as a blade as Veradun stood before him. Even under the boy’s words, surprising as they were, he kept a neutral expression. Honesty, in the way he spoke of his Master, his patience, the growing hunger for destruction, stirred something within.

The Sangnir's chin tilted slightly. “You’ve already decided then... not just that he will fall.. but that he must."

He inhaled slowly, the oppressive heat of Mustafar curling in his lungs. The taste was always the same--thick, and with ruin. "That makes you dangerous.. more than most, no? Because ambition alone does not destroy a Master. It is patience. It is a calculation. It is knowing when to play the role of the obedient apprentice and when to sharpen the blade behind your back."

Back on Formos, he had learned the true meaning of survival; it was not just raw strength, but the ability to outsmart enemies, paired with the determination to rise above one's circumstances.

A lesson carried everywhere now.

It was not just a matter of wielding a blade; no, he knew that true control came from the decisions made in the shadows, where influence extended far beyond the reach of any weapon. He learned to become a master manipulator, true to their kind, able to nurture or discard petty alliances all the same, while continuing his own ascent. And though many Darkseekers fell, it was not by his hand, but by his choices. It ensured is path remained with obstruction.

Whenever he saw weakness, he let it crumble. He viewed it as his own way of testing them; those above him, and those beside him. Some could have been spared but sparing them would serve no purpose. Leaving them behind to die was not something he regretted. Kasir simply each was as a necessary sacrifice, a steppingstone towards a higher calling.

And now, standing before the young Nagai, he recognized that same ruthless edge.

Pale digits twitched slightly at his sides.

A pause. A breath.

The cold gleam in his eyes darkened, swallowed by something vicious. Narrowing slightly, they began to burn.

"I searched.. I watched. I tried to follow trails that would eventually lead to nothing, only to chase the next possibility, that you might exist somewhere beyond the reach of your Master’s hold. The galaxy is vast.. and yet, I kept looking.”

His breathing rhythm was slow; his existence didn't leave room for emotion, rather than the thrill of the hunt, the satisfaction that came with killing.

A weapon crafted for destruction.

“It wasn’t out of sentiment or some type of nostalgia. Through the chaos, the darkness, I just knew. I knew you were still out there somewhere, and for some reason, I refused to let you fade into nothing.”

He exhaled slowly.

"If you truly intend to rid yourself of him.. you do not have to do it alone." His tone remained cold, but the words carried certainty. "More than ambition, more than patience.. you will need allies.”

He felt like a hypocrite, to be sure, as the words did not align with his actions. But he was also at loss for any other way to convey how he felt. Perhaps, it was a small price to pay for the sake of trying to protect someone.

The silence between them thickened.

“You will need me."

Lingering for a moment, he stood as an observer; there, he searched for any shifts of physical grow, noting subtle changes since their time back on Faldos.

"You ask if I am still your brother," he murmured, then shaking his head, "Even if I knew you were already lost, I would have still spent years searching for your presence.”

He did not offer warmth or invitation as his body began to shift, appearing as a silhouette, ready to lead into the enclave, should the other Sith choose to follow. Beyond that, his defenses were raking at something he long buried under all his control. It was strange, foreign, and in truth, a sensation found utterly unwelcome. The next time his lips parted, the undertone of his voice shifted. "I may have left my emotions behind, but that doesn't mean I am completely blind to them," he confessed.

Finally, he pressed back to the enclave.

Kasir had made his choice.

Now it was Veradun's turn.

 

[Veradun Sharr]

Tag: Kasir Dorran ​

The Nagai was still as Kasir digested his words in regards to his Master, and a faint smirk tugged at the corner of his lips in response as the Darkseeker commented that what the boy had revealed made him dangerous, more so than most - admitting that it wasn’t just ambition that destroyed a Sith Master, but patience and furthermore, calculation. Kasir seemed to find the value in Veradun’s reasoning in being obedient - while also making plans in the shadows.

He watched as the pale Sith inhaled the thick and hot air, those eyes never straying from Veradun’s face. There was silence between them for a length of time, and the young Nagai didn’t miss the twitching of Kasir’s pale fingers - almost as if he was contemplating reaching for a weapon.

The other Sith’s eyes grew colder and darkened further to almost a black hue, and as they narrowed - they suddenly seemed to burn as Kasir responded further to Veradun’s words.

"I searched.. I watched. I tried to follow trails that would eventually lead to nothing, only to chase the next possibility, that you might exist somewhere beyond the reach of your Master’s hold. The galaxy is vast.. and yet, I kept looking.”

The Nagai remained silent and still, his face slack and emotionless even as the Darkseeker’s words burrowed their way into his mind. Kasir had been searching for him this entire time?

And here he thought the man had abandoned him. Especially after the fall of the High Priest.

That was a topic the boy refused to touch upon; he could have sworn he saw the familiar figure of Darth Strosius there on Woostri, but he refused to believe it to be true. And even if it was - Darth Nefaron had sunk it deep into his psyche that Sith such as Strosius were failures.

Not worthy to even be remembered.

“It wasn’t out of sentiment or some type of nostalgia. Through the chaos, the darkness, I just knew. I knew you were still out there somewhere, and for some reason, I refused to let you fade into nothing.”

Still, Veradun remained quiet, though he dipped his chin in acknowledgement of Kasir’s words. You would be the only one, my brother - the boy thought to himself bitterly. If Darth Strosius was alive, he clearly didn’t care enough to pull the boy from his circumstances. Neither did his sister; he hadn’t heard or seen her in so long, he almost forgot what her face looked like.

Maybe she died when her failed master died. He didn’t know, and part of him didn’t want to know. He knew what would happen to him if Darth Nefaron discovered he was holding on to old attachments. Veradun knew that his time in slavery would look like a vacation compared to what the Dark Lord would do to him.

"If you truly intend to rid yourself of him.. you do not have to do it alone. More than ambition, more than patience.. you will need allies.”

Kasir’s words pulled him from his thoughts, and the gaunt Nagai blinked in surprise at what he heard.

“You will need me." Kasir said further, and his pale gaze narrowed once more, weighing what the older Sith had just said to him.

Finally, the boy decided it was time to speak, to respond. “I would be a fool to try and rid myself of him without allies, and my own network to fall back on. But let it be known, I will be the one to destroy him in the end. No one will take that from me, and those that even try I will butcher with my bare hands.” he growled, his eyes flickering gold with the surge of emotion that came with his words. But as soon as it came, it was gone, and he returned back to his near emotionless self, especially as Kasir continued - admitting that even if he felt Veradun had been lost, he wouldn’t have stopped searching for the boy’s presence.

It was the confirmation the Nagai needed to hear, to know that the man was still like a brother. Still saw the boy as such; and though time and circumstance had changed them both, at least this singular thing remained between them.

Having reached some sort of internal decision, Kasir turned and began to head back within the complex that was built into the volcanic rock of Mustafar itself, and lingering there was a silent invitation for Veradun to follow along - should he choose to.

The boy hesitated for a heartbeat or two, casting a glance up into the toxic sky as if looking for some sign that his Master was watching - before he followed behind in the wake of Kasir. His strides brought up and somewhat beside the man, where he cast the Darkseeker a wary glance before looking ahead once more to the pathway before him.

If Kasir had wanted him dead, then they would already be well on their way in trying to kill one another.

Together, both Sith walked on in silence, before Veradun broke it by exposing more of his carefully hidden thoughts.

“You are bold to claim that I will need you to accomplish whatever lies before me in regards to my Master - you certainly have me intrigued by such a statement.” he cast another glance at the pale, dark robed Sith beside him. “I would like to know where the confidence in that comes from. A boon of an alliance with you, perhaps, brother? Do you have something, a skill, that I could use against my Master - that would give me an edge over him?”

 

[Kasir Dorran]

Veradun Sharr


Kasir continued towards the enclave, his steps unhurried under the oppressive sky. Long before the Nagai came into his peripheral vision, he felt the stirring of his presence through the currents along them; it was dark, inevitable, and undoubtedly powerful. Yet it wasn't a power that sparked resentment, nor the type that struck him as a threat; instead, there was a different stirring, for under the many layers of his guarded nature, he acknowledged the boy's trajectory with quiet acceptance.

Earlier, when Veradun had declared that he alone would be the one to end his master, Kasir admired such an edge—one that, was not entirely unexpected, as he could only guess that he experienced constant suffering under Darth Nefaron. His own encounter with the Sith, equivalent to fixing one's sight upon a fragile bag of bones under the standard black robe, was limited to a small invasion fleet fueled by ambition to New Cov.

Memories flooded his mind, of the time he returned to Bailiff Station with a blonde rat that worshiped Ashla, even praising the Sith Lord, only to be met with rejection of their entire doctrine soon after. The bitter taste of being used and discarded in the ever-changing game of power lingered.

That same sourness was still there.

There was another familiar sting when the boy spoke; though his words were perhaps poorly chosen, they were laced with truth, nonetheless. Under his own facade there was a web of emotions, even guarded affection. Revealing too much would only jeopardize the boy’s survival in an unforgiving galaxy. The Darkseeker’s nature had always been predatory, and upon embracing the Sangnir form came a stronger desire of dominance radiating from his core; but now, there was something else, a sense of territorial protectiveness over Veradun himself.

"It is not a matter of necessity, nor me doubting your capability," Kasir's voice dripped like a lethal toxin, "but rather an acknowledgement that I cannot bear to watch you wage this war alone."

There was no false bravado, only raw honesty.

“Your master shall fall by your hand, as you so wish. But if another blade dares to strike at you before that day arrives, then they will find me waiting."
He led the way through the expanse of Mustafar’s tortured landscape; rather than sight, he was guided by memory, as he dwelled here more often than anywhere else.

Occasionally, the ground roared, and the veins of lava carving paths made it appear as though the planet itself was bleeding.

Hidden and waiting, the enclave emerged from the darkness. The entrance was worn, the blackened walls swallowed whatever approached. Once inside, the air would be noticeably cooler, for the flames of Mustafar would not reach the heart. The halls were long, but narrow, etched with ancient markings. Green flames flickered within cages, casting shadows that shifted when no eyes feasted upon them. More than a place of residence, it was akin to a tomb.

Here, he turned to face the younger Sith. “Perhaps we’ve spoken enough of war and power–for now. Tell me–what else has the galaxy done to you in my absence? You’ve changed, as any would have, but surely not all has faded. I imagine you’ve been pulled through places even I would not recognize.”

Fingers twitched once more—whether brushing something unseen, or dismissing any lingering tension, that much was unclear. Lowering himself, his cloak was like liquid around his lithe frame. And unlike so many who favored the lotus position, Kasir would kneel instead. His knees graced the enclave’s floor, then leaned back, his weight settling just over his heels.

It was not submissive, but carried a quiet sense of self-possession. Both hands came to rest upon his thighs. The green flame nearby, though dim, cast a faint glow against his sharp features; with high cheekbones and a firm jawline, his presence was every bit ethereal. His gaze, so often commanding to those it fell upon, was now inviting.

"Speak freely, brother."

 

[Veradun Sharr]

Tag: Kasir Dorran
​

Veradun’s steps echoed as he walked alongside Kasir, waiting for the older Sith to respond to his question, to his blunt statement made only moments prior. Kasir’s response surprised the Nagai teen, enough that it broke through the pale and cold facade he normally wore around others. His elder brother’s raw honesty caught him a bit off guard, and stirred to life a mix of emotions within Veradun that he hadn’t felt in so long.

Kasir couldn’t bear to see the young Nagai wage this war of his alone…and even confessed that should anyone try to strike the boy down before he could claim his Master’s life - then Kasir would be there, blade drawn to shed blood.

Even after all this time…there was still a sense of loyalty. And that alone made the boy’s mental walls and barriers crack, just enough to let Kasir in.

“...I accept your aid then. For you are correct; this isn’t a war I can win on my own. And I know that. My pride would like me to, but I am smart enough to know that I would just get myself killed in the process. Or worse.” Veradun responded after a while as Kasir continued to guide him through the fiery and volcanically torn landscape of Mustafar.

Eventually, Veradun was greeted by the mouth of a hidden enclave, the entrance carved into black basalt stone and worn with time. Once inside the halls, the air grew significantly cooler and provided an almost healing balm to Veradun’s heat scorched throat and lungs. He hadn’t complained about it, for it was really no different from the toxic atmosphere of Anoat that he had long since grown accustomed to…but the cool air was refreshing. As they went through the narrow and shadowed halls, the Nagai spied green flames flickering within sconces, and wondered how such colored flames could even exist.

When they reached a larger chamber that appeared to be some sort of living space, Kasir turned his head to regard his younger companion from the shadows of his hood and spoke once more: “Perhaps we’ve spoken enough of war and power–for now. Tell me–what else has the galaxy done to you in my absence? You’ve changed, as any would have, but surely not all has faded. I imagine you’ve been pulled through places even I would not recognize.”

Veradun realized that Kasir was skirting past his question on if the man knew of a way that could help him gain an edge over the Corpse Lord, but he knew better than the press on the topic. Though it only served to amplify his curiosity, he moved on - knowing that when the time was right, Kasir might share something with him.

The pale Nagai watched as Kasir lowered himself down to the cool stone floor, taking up a kneeling position as his hands came to rest upon his thighs. Sharp, predatory eyes settled upon Veradun - and seemed to almost invite him in as Kasir told him to speak freely.

The boy lowered himself down, taking up a similar kneeled position - the only one he was allowed to take when in the presence of his Master, and something so ingrained that he didn’t think to sit any other way now. Pale eyes slid over the surrounding chamber, landing on the flickering green flame once more, before shifting elsewhere before he turned his attention back to Kasir as he tried to find the best way in answering his long lost brother.

He was told to speak freely, so surely he was safe to do so.

“It is not what the galaxy has done to me but my Master…” he started, his voice uncharacteristically muted and somber even. The usually cold eyes were a touch softer now, as if he was reliving memories. He was silent for a little while, recalling points from his past - recent and distant - before everything began to spill from his lips, and he couldn't have stopped himself from doing so, even if he had wanted to. “My mouth got me in trouble, on more than one occasion. The worst…was after the Kaggath. I…I lashed out against my Master in anger, that he would disrespect my fallen mentor in such a manner. He nearly killed me for my audacity, made it very clear to me that all my former allegiances were dead. And that I had sworn myself to him, and him alone, and I belonged to him. To reinforce that he…he stripped me of my title as apprentice, and sentenced me to his slave pits. I…lived as a slave for a long time, months I think. And just when I was beginning to believe he had forgotten me, or caste me aside, he gave me one chance to earn my freedom back, to find my place at his side, as his apprentice.”

Pale eyes shifted to look Kasir in the face, holding gazes with his brother as he spoke the next bit. “But only if I turned my back on my honor. I was forced to betray the one who had kept me alive and fed me in the slave pits. Who became like a father to me, who bore my workload - even the punishment meant for me. I was forced to murder him before Nefaron, and I didn’t hesitate. The way I see it…I gave him the greatest mercy I had to offer, repaying him for his kindness to me by releasing him from the nightmare that he endured under the Corpse Lord’s lash.”

He took in a deep breath and exhaled slowly in a controlled fashion, before he continued. “I sacrificed everything, including myself and my honor, to regain my freedom. Since then I have served loyally, and obediently. I have aided my Master in the battle against the Jedi on Woostri, completed a Sith ritual that helped him win the day on some other Force forsaken planet…and aided his schemes on Ukatis. In return, he’s taken me around the galaxy to ancient Sith worlds and others - to learn, and grow in my power.”

“And what about you? What has transpired since we were last together on Faldos? Surely you haven’t been cooped away in this cave, have you?” he questioned, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.

 

[Kasir Dorran]

Veradun Sharr

It took time for Veradun’s words to settle, to absorb all of what his brother had endured. His fingers flexed in their resting place, resisting the desire to tighten them. Not once did he look away, but instead would remain composed. The Sangnir’s head titled in acknowledgement. Soon a quiet and deep inhale followed, and his voice became cool as the enclave’s air. “You survived. You adapted. There was no other choice.”

A pause, Kasir’s gaze still steady, now sharpened.

"Stripping you of your title, breaking your identity, forcing you into the pits.. it sounds more like programming." His tone carried no pity; this was an emotion the Darkseeker could no longer register. "To make you believe that the only way out was through him.”

Here, in the dark space, it was easy to partake in reflection. His chin tilted.

“You were meant to come back broken, into something easier to shape. He wanted a tool. Instead, he has forged the very blade that will end him.”

He wouldn’t press further than necessary. He wouldn’t demand explanations. Instead, he would take what had been given, store it away in the vault of his psyche.

“It sounds like your Masters clings to power through isolation; perhaps, this is why he has become so distant with the rest of the Sith Order. That is his flaw.”

Contradiction pressed against his mind, though his own solitude was much different. The Darkseeker withdrew from so many others of the Sith hierarchy not out of weakness, not out of fear, but because it was a space where no master could truly dictate his path. He had no empire, no legion of bodies tied to his will. And yet, he too, so often retreated to the shadows, forever distant from alliances, content with only honing himself.

“Faldos was only the beginning." A glimpse was affected toward the walls of the enclave, as though looking toward distant memories. "Much happened after the Kaggath. Too much. Wonosa shifted after the High Priest’s absence. Jutrand, too, the air there, felt heavier, after his fall.”

Kasir refrained from speaking of his own transformation.

For now.

"In the depths of those times, I sought to cultivate an acolyte in my image. Young, ambitious. I attempted to mold her, to chisel away at the chaos that simmered within."

His fingers drummed lightly against his knee.

"I was not always successful. And as much as I tried to guide her, I could not escape the truth that she was my own creation, a reflection of my own darkness. I lied to myself, saying it was my duty, guiding her with what I had learned under the High Priest.. that it was meant to better serve our doctrine. But.. it was only a distraction, a way to keep myself busy while the only world I knew lay shattered."

A rare admittance. Strange, for someone like him.

"When the pressure on Jutrand became too much, I left the region entirely rather than report to those who remained within Wonosa. I spent time on Malachor V until things settled. Eventually, I ensured that the girl returned to the academy, to continue her studies. But even now, the memories of that chapter cling to me like a stain, seeping into whatever still resides within."

Something lingered in his voice before another beat of silence, then came another admission.

"It’s true that I spend much time here, alone." His voice was steady, but it carried something deeper. "The enclave keeps me sharp. The training droids here are built to push me to my limits every time I spar." A faint tug of the mouth appeared. "They are less treacherous, after all, and only try to kill me from the front.. rather than the back. I.. don’t mind that."

Another pause—heavier than the last

"Woostri." The word left his lips quietly. "I was there."

Kasir did not blink. "I have seen your sister, far from here."

Then, the final truth.

"And the High Priest has returned."

 

[Veradun Sharr]

Tag: Kasir Dorran​

Kasir was silent as Veradun opened up the floodgates and revealed all that had transpired since the start of his apprenticeship. It felt strange to the young Nagai at first, to be so frank and open with someone else for a change. To have someone else hear and understand, perhaps, what he had to endure. And when Kasir finally spoke again, he echoed the same thoughts that rolled around in Veradun’s mind too: he had done what he needed to do in order to survive.

And he would continue to do so. Not to just simply survive, no…but to thrive and grow in his power.

Kasir continued to speak, his gaze sharp as he laid bare the truth of what Nefaron had done to Veradun, what he was still trying to do. Programming the boy to be a useful tool, a weapon that the Dark Lord felt confident in using in any manner he saw fit. But Kasir was right about his next assessment:

Nefaron was only forging the blade that would see him destroyed in the end. But the Sith Lord knew that would be the outcome, he had told Veradun that much in the past. He knew his Apprentice would rise up and attempt to strike him down, and Nefaron expected it. But it had been over a year since the Sith Lord had taken the Nagai under his authority, and the boy had yet to make any move against his Master.

“It sounds like your Master clings to power through isolation; perhaps, this is why he has become so distant with the rest of the Sith Order. That is his flaw.”

Veradun tilted his head at the comment, his pale blue eyes glinting in the low lights as he did so. “Some see it as a flaw, especially those who do not know his machinations. Darth Nefaron is like a slow progressive disease…his influence is subtle, or distant as you put it…enough to make most if not all the Sith in the Order turn a blind eye towards him or write him off as unimportant, until it is far too late to stop him. He schemes in the darkness, and his cunning knows no bounds. He knows exactly what he is doing.” Veradun replied, his voice still soft and cold like a winter’s breeze.

Silence fell between the two men for a few moments as Kasir seemed to ponder Veradun’s inquiry on what all had transpired in their time apart, and when he finally began to speak, the Nagai listened intently. Kasir confessed that much happened after the fateful events of the Kaggath, and admitted that the Order of Wonosa went through a shift after the fall of Darth Strosius. Veradun remained as neutral and guarded as possible hearing this information; as much as he hated to admit it to himself, Nefaron’s poisonous talons had somewhat corrupted the boy’s views of Wonosa and the late High Priest.

He almost viewed them with disgust, now. Hatred, even.

But Kasir didn’t need to know that.

Veradun tilted his head once more when I heard that Kasir had tried to train an acolyte of his own during the tumultuous time after the Kaggath, and continued to maintain his silence as his brother revealed a little more about himself and his inner workings - and an admittance that he had only been lying to himself, and had used his student as a distraction to keep his mind from wandering to the truth of what had happened, what had been taken from him and destroyed.

He even admitted to leaving Wonosa behind for a time, spending his days on Malachor V until the dust settled. Kasir paused briefly, before moving on - admitting further that he had spent much of his time upon Mustafar and within the dimly lit caverns and chambers, training with droids to sharpen himself. His comments about the fact that they at least attacked from the front and not the back brought forth a rare chuckle from Veradun. That was a sentiment he understood all too well. His training droid was programmed for something similar, but beyond that the apprentice of Darth Nefaron had to contend with the ruthless and savage Corpse Legionnaires.

The threat of being stabbed in the back was always there when the soldiers of Nefaron were involved; they were always testing their newest master, and co-ruler of Anoat, and he was always happy to remind them that there was a reason why he had been elevated to second in command within the Legion, behind the Dark Lord himself.

The next pause between the two Sith was heavier, before Kasir confirmed his presence upon Woostri, but before Veradun could respond…he admitted to something else that made the boy grow very still.

Kasir had seen his sister, Revna.

And beyond even that, the High Priest - the one whom Veradun had watched die in the arena…had returned to life, somehow. How very interesting. He wondered how the Sith Lord had managed that.

Veradun was like a stone statue for a long moment, his gaze upon Kasir piercing as he absorbed this information. But strangely, it seemed as if the news had little impact on the young Sith. Nefaron’s poison had pierced deep, and though the boy recalled memories and felt the flicker of emotions that came with it, he strangely felt disconnected from it all. Like it had all occurred in another life, one he was no longer attached to.

“I haven’t heard from Revna in a long time.” it was hard to miss the edge of bitterness in the boy’s voice, as if there were some repressed negative feelings there, buried deep. Truthfully, Veradun had grown bitter and angry towards his “sister”, believing that she had abandoned him.

But still, there was a twinge of curiosity within him to know of her whereabouts.

“And where might she be now?"

 

[Kasir Dorran]

Veradun Sharr​

Kasir didn’t answer right away.

At the mention of her name, his gaze shifted, just slightly, to the empty space between them, as if Nagai had summoned a ghost from the green lit shadows. He remained seated, posture straight, but tension began to coil in both his pale jaw and the faintest twitch of a hand resting against his knee.

“I met her on Korriban,” he said at last, his voice low.

“She survived things that most wouldn't survive. A Sith that goes by Darth Prazius captured her. Broke her. Reforged her spine.. Fused something inside her.. something sentient that causes pain with every breath…”

A surge of bile churned in his gut. He longed to spit it out, to watch it dissolve like acid upon the graves of those who preached a false doctrine. “And they have the audacity to call this power.”

The words lingered in the air, much like the ash on Mustafar. Soft traced along the edges of his tone, but it didn’t make it any less sharp.
For a moment longer, he pondered on how much he should reveal. Yet it was clear that no matter how much spilled from his lips, it would not alter the trajectory. In truth, part of him believed this situation to be beyond the grasp of even the combined forces of Wonosa and Korriban.

“She told me the pain kept her alive. That pretending to serve bought her time to plan an escape.”

Kasir then leaned forward slightly, forearms resting atop his thighs.

“She asked about you.”

The Sangnir didn’t blink from the confession.

“Not directly in the beginning. But eventually.. yes. She wanted to know if you were alive. If you were still you. Your sister said she hadn’t heard from you since her capture.”

He stopped, gaze falling over the flicker of green flames. The light danced, as it always did, but his voice was steady now. “But even after all of it..the torture, the device in her spine, she still held onto you."

 

[Veradun Sharr]

Tag: Kasir Dorran​

Kasir didn’t respond to Veradun’s inquiry, not immediately anyway. And when he did, the young Nagai found himself rather conflicted.

On one hand, he felt a stab of rare guilt for feeling such anger and negativity towards his sister, if she had indeed been captured and forced to endure things that most others would not survive. He hadn’t even been aware that she had been captured - no wonder why he hadn’t heard anything from her, or seen her.

On the other hand, however…there was a cruel sense of coldness that developed within him, and despite his best attempt to keep his emotions in check, a sneer curled on his lips.

…how had his sister been so weak as to allow herself to be captured? Broken? And if his former High Priest had been so powerful, why hadn’t he gone to take her back? Any other Sith Lord wouldn’t have stood for such an insult.

Perhaps Darth Nefaron was right - perhaps they were indeed all weak.

The young Sith kept his silence as Kasir continued, sharing further what Veradun’s dear sister had said. His icy eyes snapped back to Kasir when he was told that she had asked about him. Wanted to know if he was still alive, still himself. That she hadn’t heard from him since her capture, that despite all her seeming torment, she had held on to him.

A scoff escaped his lips - a bitter one tinged with disbelief and anger.

Anger at himself, for letting his memories of her become so poisoned, bitter that any of this had happened in the first place, and disbelief that he could have tried to reach out to her - but he never did.

Perhaps that was a good thing, for if he had and she never responded, then the anger he felt for her now would have been worse.

Still, he had to confront the truth of the matter, and decide what he was going to do with the information. His Master’s expectations echoed through his mind, and never truly left him. In the dim silence, the Nagai shook his head as blue eyes reflected the green of the flames nearby.

“I can’t help her, and neither do I want to. I doubt she’d accept my aid anyway, or anyone’s aid truthfully. She’s always been one to try and figure things out on her own, strive on her own merit, her own power. If she breaks free from her bondage, then it will be something she earns. If she is deserving of it.”

He fell into silence once more, his mind swirling with thoughts, before he exhaled heavily and tore his gaze away from Kasir to stare off into one of the green flames for several long moments. “I am…relieved to hear she is still alive. Though in time, I may come to regret it. I must maintain appearances, Kasir. My Master must believe that those of my past are seen as nothing but rivals to be destroyed in time, that my connections are truly severed. That includes you, Revna, Strosius…anyone else I had ties to. I am willing to maintain contact with you, as my ally who will help me defeat the Dark Lord in time. But even then I must be very careful with how I interact with you - if we do so, beyond this point in time.”

Pale eyes turned back to regard Kasir, his brother, once more. “I hope you understand.”

 

[Kasir Dorran]

Veradun Sharr ​

Kasir hunched forward slightly, both elbows on his knees now, hands clasped; yet, his eyes were fixed not on the boy, but somewhere in the green fire. It was as if the flames spoke truths, like a voice he’d become familiar with during the prolonged durations of solitude. His brow furrowed when Veradun mentioned relief at Revna’s survival, and once more at the dismissal that came immediately after.

As the young Nagai finished speaking, Kasir dragged in a slow breath. He would wait before speaking. But when he did, the Sangnir's voice was quieter than normal; though, it was anything but fragile. It was pulled from a place deep inside, perhaps a place where those he cared for were more than just pawns.

“I do understand, Veradun. More than you think.” His gaze flicked sideways. “I, too, have told myself that pain is a weakness. That distance is strength. That I could lock every feeling behind doctrine.” He looked back now. This time, it was directly into his brother’s eyes. “I also understand what happens when such bonds become cut. The memories rot.. But the regret? It festers. And sometimes, they can become fuel for your enemies. I have seen powerful Sith meet their end not by blade, but by ghosts.. ones they tried to forget."

He straightened, pale digits drumming against his thigh. “You don’t have to save her. That will be handled soon. But.. you don’t have to lie to yourself and say you don’t care. Not here.”

A hand lifted, but it was not at the wall, but through it.. at Mustafar itself. “Places like this.. they teach us to slice away every ounce of devotion, until there’s nothing left.”

Kasir didn’t know the full extent of whatever once lingered between Veradun and Revna, but if he had to guess, he would’ve assumed they were very close. He also recalled the Disciple of Faith back on Korriban, where they vaguely discussed his apprentice. On that very day, it had been difficult to digest, to fathom the idea of his voice softening. Much of it still echoed in his memory, and he welcomed it.

“At times, even for those on our path.. there is clarity in what you desire to protect."

Unfortunately, clarity did not arrive until there was distance between them. The soft affection he possessed for her remained, a thread he'd never tried to sever. He tilted his head, just slightly, the way predators do when smelling something in the air. “She endured torment.. and still asked for you. Even in the darkest places, she remembered your name.” A repetition of words spoken earlier, but intentionally so. "That line, whether you acknowledge it or not, is still there. If she were to stand before you, I don't believe you would see her as a memory erased."

 

[Veradun Sharr]

Kasir Dorran​

Veradun was silent for a long time after Kasir had finished his response, simply letting the other man’s words sink into his mind, into his spirit. He held his brother’s gaze for several long moments, before he too turned his eyes towards the green flames, letting them consume his vision. For the first time in a long time, he allowed himself to remember Revna…remember their times together. How proud he’d been to be her little brother, how much he looked up to her.

He told himself that he didn’t anymore, but it was a lie. A lie he said to protect her, protect himself.

Pale eyes slid back to Kasir, and the facade that still remained cracked and fell away until the innermost part of who Veradun was, was finally revealed.

“Nefaron will try to kill you all, if he even believes for a moment that I still hold a sliver of affection or connection for any of you. And he will force me to do it. I have to say, believe, that none of you mean anything to me…to make him believe that to be true. And even then, I know it isn’t enough.” He paused to let that settle and linger for several heartbeats.

“I suppose I do want to protect her. And you. And I did so by severing my bonds, so he couldn’t use them against me. But I am deceiving myself with that. Because he will use you all against me; that is how my Master operates. He must be assured of my loyalty…and the only way to do that is to eliminate all others that would still have even a fraction of it. If I have to face her, or you again after this reconnection, it will be to cross blades and with the intent to kill.”

Veradun heaved a sigh, exhaling sharply as he did so. “It…angers me from a familial bond to hear she endured the suffering that she did. But as a Sith I see it as a crucible. If she was truly powerful, then she will endure her suffering. Otherwise, she is weak - and not fit to call herself a Sith.”

The Nagai regarded Kasir, sitting in the cool silence as his thoughts cycled back to something his brother had mentioned earlier, and now tugged at the edges of his curiosity. Pale blue eyes narrowed as he cocked one head to the side.

“You mentioned earlier about becoming something different than what you were before. A…sangnir? What…is that exactly?”

 

[Kasir Dorran]

Veradun Sharr ​

The silence was not only the absence of sound, rather, it was calculated, forged from the depths of his soul, ready to strike. As the emerald flame flickered between them, casting both of their faces in a sickly light. There, it would become abundantly clear that Kasir's features were never truly softened, instead, they seemed to be in a state of refinement. It was easy to see the edges being sharpened, especially when compared to their time on Faldos.

“Yes, he will try,” Kasir murmured, the words like cooled magma. He shifted slightly, the weight of his body pulling against the stone floor now. “You cut the thread so it couldn’t be pulled. I’ve done the same. We’re taught to control what we feel.. but not everything stays buried. If you cross me, then I’ll bleed. But then.. I’ll bleed knowing you tried to choose your own path first.”

He wouldn't answer immediately, his silence like a veil of darkness, suffocating, as he gazed upon the young Nagai.

But something behind that cold facade seemed to flicker, a hint of vulnerability, of memories that still haunted him in the shadows of his mind. It wasn't dominance, nor shame, but something quieter.. something more insidious.

“Sangnir is the name given to us,” he said, his voice low with the finality of someone speaking of both a species and a grave. “But it’s not a birthright. It’s.. a bargain.”

His posture shifted; it would be enough for Veradun to feel a shift in the air. A hint of danger hung like a storm cloud, one not native to Mustafar. “On Jutrand, that hunger was forced upon me, yet when I lay in ash, feeding on it became the only thing that kept me alive.”

He extended one hand slowly, his fingers tracing the edge of his cloak where it draped like spilled ink. “Anima,” he continued, his voice almost reverent now, “That’s what fuels us. Not blood alone, but life itself.. drawn from veins.. consumed, and finally, converted.” A subtle gesture upon his chest, one with grim weight, one felt in this very moment.

It was difficult to find the words for the burden of this curse.

“At first, it gives you strength. Faster reflexes. Sharpened senses. Regeneration. You feel.. invincible.” His dark orbs flashed with a malicious glint. “Until the hunger settles in. The constant need.. it frays you, warps you even. Anima may grant you power, yes, but the price it demands.. is heavy."

His tone dropped further, as though it too, slid into shadow. “A reservoir near the heart which no longer serves me.” Each word was measured like an ancient ritual. "That’s why I don’t age. The wounds.. they close before the pain could ever have any hope to find me. It's why I should've died multiple times since.. but didn’t.”

He inhaled slowly, letting the silence thrum between them. “Don’t romanticize it. It makes you strong, yes.. but it also makes you hollow. And..” A long breath shuddered from him. “Hollow things are easy to fill.. with rage, with hate, and.. regret.”

He straightened, shoulders tensing, before leaning forward. 'I'm not here to lie, or to convince you of anything. I'm only placing an option before you.. however brutal it may seem. Nefaron won't grant salvation. But this might grant.. what you need.'”

 

[Veradun Sharr]

Kasir Dorran​

The weight of understanding that settled between Veradun and Kasir was like the finality that came with certain and unavoidable death. Kasir understood what his younger brother had said, and knew just what would be expected of Veradun once he returned to his Master. Knew…what was to come, when they met again one day.

Veradun didn’t want that future, where he made his brother bleed, or saw the look of disappointment and sorrow in his sister’s eyes. But it was a future that couldn’t be avoided. Not while he served Darth Nefaron. And he knew he would continue to serve the Dark Lord, dutifully, until the proper time came for him to drive a blade through the Sith Lord’s heart.

Silence filled the space between the two men after Veradun inquired about the sangnir. There was a glint of something behind the elder Sith’s dark eyes, something the Nagai teen couldn’t quite put a finger on. For a moment, he feared that Kasir would decline to speak on the matter…but that was soon proven false. There was a subtle shift in Kasir’s posture, in the air that surrounded him, as he explained that the name Sangnir was what was given to people like him…that it was attached to something that was not a birthright but that came from a bargain.

He shared further that this new nature of his had been forced upon him on Jutrand, mentioned the hunger, and a faint frown flickered over the pale face of the boy across from Kasir. Pale eyes, like glacial pools, watched as Kasir raised an arm and traced the fabric of his cloak, speaking on the topic of anima…and its importance to what he was. Veradun was quick to understand that the anima came from blood, taken from living beings, and was what a Sangnir fed upon.

Veradun’s attention sharpened as his brother’s tone dipped lower, sharing more knowledge with the boy about his very being. The Nagai absorbed every word, stored it within his mind. Kasir would never age now, and his wounds…healed, as soon as they were dealt. Death would not find Kasir as easily, and this strangely gave the boy hope about their future clashes. It was rather comforting to hear that he wouldn’t be able to kill his brother, even if he tried. Perhaps, it meant that he was one person that Nefaron would never be able to take from him.

He was musing on all of this when silence returned to the space between them. The more he had heard, the more…intruiged…he became. A glint of dark and morbid fascination shined in his eyes, unhidden from Kasir’s sight. Something about all that had been shared…clicked in the boy’s mind. It was the nature of a hunter, a predator…one that fed upon others.

It was something that Veradun connected with, as it was who he was already.

“Don’t romanticize it. It makes you strong, yes.. but it also makes you hollow. And…Hollow things are easy to fill.. with rage, with hate, and.. Regret.”

Kasir’s words brought the boy’s focus back to him, and he realized that his brother must have sensed what he was thinking…or perhaps it had been plain to see upon his face. Kasir straightened himself, before leaning in slightly, drawing Veradun’s full and undivided attention to him.

"I'm not here to lie, or to convince you of anything. I'm only placing an option before you.. however brutal it may seem. Nefaron won't grant salvation. But this might grant.. what you need.”

Veradun’s lips parted slightly as he inhaled a near silent breath. Had…had his brother just offered this condition of his as an option for him? Could Kasir be right…that this pathway could be the leg up that Veradun needed over his Master?

It was risky…but it had its rewards.

Veradun sat back and inhaled deeply before expelling the air in his lungs heavily. “...this option is…tempting. There is something else though…that this speaks to within me…” Veradun murmured, his gaze distant, before he turned them back to peer into his brother’s dark and predatorial gaze. For the first time in a long time, the facade the Nagai wore fell away, and he allowed Kasir to see the dark beast that lurked within him.

For he knew one predator would recognize another.

“You didn’t hide the truth of the cruel edge that comes with being what you are. Yet it did nothing to…dissuade me from truly considering this option…” A pause, a breath, then he continued.

“I exist in a perpetual state of hunger myself, one I crave to satisfy, but find difficulty in doing so. This would allow me to feed that hunger, and give it purpose. Give…death…meaning, to me. I despise watching the life leave a victim, knowing that who and what they are…or were…goes to waste. But this…”

Veradun’s voice trailed off into a cold whisper.

“This nature of yours…could not only give me a possible advantage over Nefaron, but also allow me to pursue my own hunger and feed that part of me.” his eyes narrowed as his thoughts sharpened; his head tilted to one side, the green glow of the flames making him almost appear more pale and corpse-like than he already was.

“...consider me interested, but before I make my final decision on this, I want to know more, what I can expect should I accept this. Weaknesses...strengths...whatever you know to tell me. Are there others of your kind out there?"

 

[Kasir Dorran]

Veradun Sharr
​

Kasir trailed the young Nagai's movements; a natural response for his kind, attuned to the predatory ways long before ever committing to the dark. And so, it was clear, his younger brother had been draped in a cloak, as expected, concealing so much of what emanated from him now. How easy it was, to notice the familiar hunger that sang to him, one that beckoned primal desires. Many would run in terror from that kind of beast lurking within, but the Sangnir knew all too well that it called to both of them; perhaps, they were always bound to share a special bond, one that meant embracing a path where the light could never follow.

He didn’t speak right away, instead choosing to silently absorb his brother's words. Seldom did the Darkseeker's expression ever waver, no lingering smiles or revealing pride. But there was something deeper now.. a recognition of power. It wasn't the kind that came from seduction, like the whispers of the dark side, but that which was forged from ruin, and rebuilt with purpose. Even so, this revelation would not change his opinion of Darth Nefaron, not after the aftermath of New Cov.

The verdant flames licked at his outline, as if acknowledging his place among them. “You’re speaking a language I understand now,” he finally spoke, his fingers clenching and unclenching at his side. “A predator, sharpening its teeth..not solely out of necessity.. but driven by something entirely different." A slow exhale was released. "For vengeance."

His head tilted, but the gaze bore no challenge. It was a deadly invitation. “I believe, you’re not asking to join me. You’re asking to stop pretending you’re anything else.”

He looked to the space between them before continuing. “You want truth, then take all of it.”

The flames intensity mirrored his message. “It grants agelessness; your cells regenerate before decay can touch you. Wounds recover faster before any physical pain can register. Your senses.. they sharpen to a new edge, detecting movement, intent.. even breath. During combat, that will become a dance you lead. And perhaps, most potent of all, you learn anima conversion, to draw life essence from others and turn it into raw power, fueling your body.”

A pause bloomed between them, not empty, but heavy. “With power comes that hunger,” he said softly. “Anima never sleeps. And neither will you, if you fight it.” He fell quiet again, staring past the heat. “That ache of not belonging.. it doesn’t leave.”

Maybe it never had.

He would remain kneeling for a beat longer, the glow pooling at his shoulder blades. The faintest shift of weight was calculated and precise. With his forearms pressed briefly against his thighs, digits were splayed across the stone floor. And in one motion, he rose from his position.

The shadows behind him stretched as if drawn to his aura.

“There are others like me,” he breathed, each syllable a confession carved in the darkness surrounding them. “But we don’t gather. We don’t really belong… not even to each other.” His focus drifted to Veradun with understanding “You won’t join a people, brother. You’ll become a shadow between realms.. something even Nefaron can’t define.”

His chin lifted so that orbs carved from glass at a funeral caught the younger Sith. "I'm not whole anymore.” Another borrowed hush, and his shoulders loosened so that a note of regret could escape. “I am what remains when survival carves you into shards. I traded my identity for this armor, this mask that I can never remove." A single step closer, akin to trailing frost in his wake. ”But if you burn, I will burn beside you. That's all that's left of who I used to be. And I would choose that over living long enough to forget your name."

As he extended a slender, pale hand toward the corridor, his fingers curled with the claws of a nocturnal beast. The faintest curl of his lips hinted at something cruel, savoring the inevitable surrender now whispered through the air.

"Come," he beckoned, voice like ink spilled across parchment. The very sound could weave despair, delicate nonetheless, while dripping with the promise of surrender. Kasir pointed down the hall. "There lies a corridor where hope goes to die."

In the distance, she moved, like a melody forever threaded into his memory. He felt it then: the presence of another predator, one gentle on his senses, a pulse in the void of his own existence. The Sith demanded detachment; his hunger begged for possession. He was incapable of either.

​

 

[Veradun Sharr]

​

Kasir Dorran

​

If only I could join you now, brother. In time, perhaps…In time.

Such was the silent whisper through Veradun’s mind as he and Kasir came to an understanding; “Yes - I am tired of…hiding.” He replied softly, his gaze distant for a moment as his thoughts wandered briefly, before he refocused his attention upon Kasir as the Sith agreed to share further truths about his Sangnir nature to the young man. Veradun listened intently, his sharp eyes like windows into his icy soul - which absorbed everything shared to him.

Agelessness. Rapid regeneration. Heightened senses… taking power from life itself.

But the cost was ceaseless hunger. Of being something so wholly different that there would no longer be a true place for Veradun within the galaxy. Not unless he carved one out for himself.

The Nagai watched as Kasir rose to his feet in a fluid, graceful motion. He was seeing the man, his brother, with new eyes now. There was a strange, new sensation in the air between them - almost alluring, a beckoning towards a kinship that went beyond mortal constraints. Veradun rose to his feet too, the motion silent as darkness seemed to cling to him. He continued to listen as Kasir shared further that yes, there were others out there like him - but they did not gather together. There was no sense of belonging, not even amongst his own kind. He told the Nagai that, if he took this step into the unknown, then he wouldn’t belong to a people - but become something else, something that not even Darth Nefaron could define.

Icy blue eyes glimmered as thoughts raced within the youth’s mind; “I am already a shadow between realms, Kasir. Here, and not there. Present and yet…a breath that has come and gone. It’s who I am.”

Kasir lifted his chin slightly as he peered at his little brother, his expression cold and devoid like the grave. He confessed to Veradun that he was no longer whole; a being broken and the shard made sharp by survival. He took a closer step towards the pale Nagai, but Veradun didn’t shift or move from his place, for he was not afraid of the hunter that stared back at him.

” - But if you burn, I will burn beside you. That's all that's left of who I used to be. And I would choose that over living long enough to forget your name."

The weight of that declaration settled over the Nagai like a funeral shroud. The two men, both Sith, both brothers…eyed one another in the low shadows. Veradun could feel that he was on the very edge, the cusp, of something far greater than he could imagine.

And yet all he could feel was the urge to take that step…to truly embrace the darkness that sought to claw its way out of him each and every day. To step into this new ending that now faced him. Kasir, who seemed to sense that his younger brother was on the very edge of choice - extended a hand and gestured towards a darkened corridor. He bid Veradun to Come, and go where hope died.

Veradun stared down that black corridor - felt the shadows almost reach out to lure him into its depths. He hesitated for several heartbeats, not from fear…but to savor that delectable moment that exists just before the end. It was like the final heartbeats before the last breath was exhaled by a victim of his mercies.

He cast one more glance at Kasir, holding the darkened gaze of his brother’s for a heartbeat longer than necessary, before he finally spoke: "Nefaron will try to take everything from me, but if this path allows me to have one person at my side in the end...then I will gladly take it. It will be I who has the last laugh in the end...and if I had to choose someone, I would like you to be there with me, brother."

Veradun then took a confident and fearless step towards the corridor, marking his decision on matter. He let the darkness of it wrap around him and swallow him whole as he took measured steps towards a surrender, an embrace, of what he felt he was meant to be.