Private Mysticism Unraveled

[Pom Stych Tivé]

the M I S T R E S S
M A L C O N T E N T​

Her drive Darth Carnifex​

Anything for power, has it not been the drive all along? What would give cause for thought regarding Shakkai? Is it not something which pleases him? Certainly to give him the pleasure reaps pleasure in return. Ah, but isn't it the fate of all without ritual, to feel nothing while nearing their end? Could she fall into more discontent than ever before, then with the ritual once past, live eternally as one who will never be fulfilled?

In one end result there is eternity sharing in his power. The other potential offers emotional fulfillment…yet one-sided, for he is not truly present enough to join her.

Surely there is some way to conquer this singular effect, for his Mistress once believed that there is a magick to beget anything fathomable. Sadly her aspirations faded over time, as life's developments grew more and more critical.

He always knew everything she fretted over, yet never spoke aloud. The desire to join him in his immortality weighed heavily down upon her thoughts as of late, but while he offered her to share in his immortality, he also had all of forever to await her answer. Secretly he held onto her Horcrux, Spasa, forged into his armor which precisely measured half her Soul. What he acquired of the Light, settled steeped into the Darkness generated to imprison her there, as secure now as Pom herself in him.

Still she wondered, surely there must be something which could guarantee she can have it all without losing the best aspects of existence, a magick yet unrevealed.

Days ago Pomstychtivé entered into his Bone Temple. The Matriarch slowed her respirations and her heart rate considerably, and she welcomed her mind slip into deep meditation. The Wanica who possess her form, joined her quest at the altar. The Witching Hour came and went but none consciously stirred within.

The magick that roiled across the Nether to awaken the Bone Temple upon Dathomir and Malsheem together fortified their intentions. Her body levitated over the altar and endured the assault of living magick. Possibilities slipped into her thoughts over time and she finally began to slowly return to consciousness.

As much as the Shakkai ritual requires great measures and sacrifice to institute, how much more her answer revealed would push the body beyond its limits. Is it merely nothing to attempt however, for one who masters life and death as he?

The Nightsister's body slowly descended, setting her feet squarely upon the ground, while finally she opened her eyes once again to her physical existence.

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[Darth Carnifex]

His footfalls echoed through the trapezoid corridor, ringing off the walls so that anyone within his vicinity could hear his approach. Sterile white light flooded every inch of space, illuminating from light strips built into the walls and floors. It was a sobering reminder that nothing could be hidden from him, no shadow survived to give comfort to his foes anywhere in his domain. ​

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Various grim-faced functionaries followed silently behind him, their heads bent low in reverence to his perceived divinity. It was believed that to gaze upon his visage without leave to do so could cause agonizing death, a fate that none around him wished to inflict upon themselves.​

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"Wait here," he spoke as they neared a closed door.​

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The functionaries knew better than to disobey, and so they lowered themselves until their foreheads touched the cold metal floor in subjugation. He would continue alone, stepping through the partition as the door closed behind him and cast him into darkness. Ahead was a massive temple wrought of stone, one that had been meticulously moved brick by brick from a world steeped in ancient magic to rest within the shadow-wreathed chamber. ​

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Through profane rites, the temple occupied two locations in time and space. The same exact temple existed in the wilds of Dathomir just as much as it existed in the chamber before him. As he stepped through the sublime porte, he was assailed by a distinct shift in atmospheric pressure as he left the regulated and artificial worldcraft of Malsheem and found himself on Dathomir.​

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Ahead was the object of his journey, the levitating form of Pom Stych Tivé over an altar he had a hand in erecting. The colossal dictator walked up towards, towering over the smaller witch by several feet as he extended his hand for her to take.​

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No words were spoken between them initially, such trivialities were pointless as the dark power which rested in Carnifex flowed from him and into Pom at the simplest touch.​

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A bond writ in blood.​

 

[Pom Stych Tivé]

the M I S T R E S S
M A L C O N T E N T​

Thine Sith'ari Darth Carnifex​

The most arcane magick, combining items in physical existence with spiritual energies, in such a meticulous manner, the chemical result produces a desired outcome, whether tangible or intangible. The details lay beyond comprehension at times. It is such cosmic held secrets surrounding Physics that the Nightsisters strive to unravel.​

Her very Soul she fabricated into his most intimate possession. The experience of his touch is exactly what she does not wish to dwell without. His Shakkai Ritual shall stricken such everyday sensual pleasure for all eternity. Even before she became fully conscious, she instinctively stretched her fingers out, to reach between his own. Casting forth a lifeless gaze, she began to perceive the altar room around her. His passions wrought from being fully steeped in the Darkside, she always recognized as quite different than her personal experience. There are so many pleasures yet she would never consciously desire to forever put behind her. For the moment, the Nightsister honestly loves and adores him, her children and her extended coven family. She could not comprehend how that might all change.​

The images from her meditation flashed through her mind as her Soul imbedded once again into her physical body. Life returned to her eyes and she cast her Lord a bright welcoming smile. He always arrives to assist just when she realizes she needs him.​

She did not yet comprehend just how she will be able to pull off casting her spell with the information the galaxy revealed to her during her meditation. Life and death must clash for the forging of most of her magickal accomplishments. Ingredients are gathered under specific circumstances, and stored by particular means, everything so meticulous. The cycle of Time itself, every detail worked together under equally strict circumstances. The walls around her became alight with numerous fleeting flames. The details of her Ritual scripted into the dried bone which fabricate the Temple walls.​

Her spirit enlivened as she gripped hold of both his hands into her own. "Can it not be done?" she asked, knowing he would be able to comprehend how his phenomenal Eternal Sith Spell would commune with her own!​

 

[Darth Carnifex]

Carnifex cut a fearsome figure.​

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His broad muscular body was concealed by form-fitting clothes tailored to his exact measurements. A double-breasted dark green field jacket was fastened across his chest and midsection, with no insignia or plaque to denote his station or rank. His hands were normally concealed by black synth-hide gloves, but he had removed one prior to entering the temple so that he could grasp Pom's hand skin-to-skin. His crotch and legs were covered by black trousers, and both of his feet were snugly pushed inside of black synth-hide boots. ​

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"All can be done," he answered, bringing her fingers up to his lips to kiss them. "There is nothing in this galaxy that is beyond my ability, as all will soon see."​

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Carnifex had dedicated a great deal of his time to studying the ancient magics of the Sith and the Witches of Dathomir, to harness their power to achieve his own ends. To his side, he had assembled a great many practitioners of these profane arts. They toiled ceaselessly to appease his appetite for knowledge, some having succumbed to the dark magic they sought to harness. ​

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His burning eyes stared down into Pom's, his irises flickering with dark power. ​

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"Tell me of your work, dearest Pom."​

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Pom Stych Tivé ​

 

[Pom Stych Tivé]

the M I S T R E S S
M A L C O N T E N T​

Thine Sith'ari Darth Carnifex​

Pom breathed in the sensations he rousted as she peered deep into the glory never hidden behind his eyes. So many fear existing within him, what to Pomstychtivé is merely her own likeness, the total opposite of the Light.

The opposite of the Light is not wholly barbaric. It is not wholly selfish, because one is not single-minded. One seeks to drive family forward. Pom loves those for whom love is deserved. Where the light loves upfront before it is earned, giving the benefit of the doubt to any, the darksider has erected walls that only those deserving may step through. Her love has a cost, expectations. The price continually alters, assigned to every changing whim, ambitions met or those cast aside.

She met him in whatever fancy he decided to entertain because she wants everything he offers, and knowing him wrought a particular prestige. In all of what she cherishes, she still holds onto a sense of freedom in the legal sense. Mundane becomes the life of a couple who have promised the impossible to one another. In the moment, such promise never seems out of reach.

She is always open with her thoughts where he is concerned. "Regarding the Shakkai," began his Mistress, "It is these particular moments which I desire to preserve." In all that she knew of love, herself being steeped in the Darkness of this abyss he masters, the Nightsister ever declared her love for him. The exchange would be, he could grant her eternal life, for her sacrifice of gratification in simple pleasures.

For a moment she hesitated before she spoke, her old world dialect drawing out her words to express her passion. "All my life, I taunted the jedi for their decision to commit heinous acts of violence with total apathy. I accuse it to be their intentional separation of their sin from the thoughts of their being. They refuse to take responsibility as they rage war. We indulge in our passions in all things, while they deny the very nature of humanity…at least, that is how they prefer to declare their experience; but I know I rile them when I speak to them. I give them far more cause to feel than they are able to withstand."

She tenderly massaged the leathery flesh of the Sith'ari's exposed hand in her own. "Maybe I do not entirely understand what you ask of me; but I find the thrill of our engagement, far more preferable to eternal life."

Her looks are in no danger of deteriorating, not unless the most common of Nightsister Potions suddenly becomes void in all of the Galaxy's Black Market! But there is ever the possibility that death awaits one at any given moment.

"But I want to join you, I do." She does not understand why such a cost must exist. Her tone revealed her eagerness to succeed, along with an inclination towards madness she harbors regarding her most dangerous of undertakings. "If I might find a way to play with the aspects of this mystery which you have unravelled, then I may be able to instill an alternative to its extensive nullifying effects." A pleading depicted in her eyes as she regarded him. "If with each passing decade you find yourself more and more void of joy as you have described to me, I might someday lose you entirely," she lamented.
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[Darth Carnifex]

He listened calmly, silently, as Pom regaled to him what had been dwelling on her mind. She was worried about the ritual he had offered her, the same ritual he himself had taken to achieve the immortality that he now claimed to possess. True immortality it was not, for he could still be felled by a lethal wound, but there was a myriad of other safeguards in place to render that fear a fleeting memory. ​

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Reaching out to caress Pom's cheek, he drew her close to him so that their lips could interlock in passion. Pulling her into his embrace as he seated himself upon the altar, enjoying the allure of her flesh with a unique intimacy and familiarity that needed no words to convey.​

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When they finally parted, Carnifex spoke in gentle tones; "The ritual will rid you of distraction, my dearest. Trivialities that plagued you will no longer do so, and you will be free to enjoy the greater pleasures of existence." Those who had subjected themselves to the Shakkai would find their emotions gradually taken from them, their bodies numb to the world, and their tastes slipping away. In exchange, they would no longer age, and they would no longer experience pain. The only emotion and pleasure they could enjoy would be the most extremes, the heights of experience that were often too great a task for those burdened by their lesser feelings.​

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"I would show you a new dimension of experience, my love, existence as you have never before known. You would be an immortal queen, the grand magistrix of the Nightsisters. None would be your equal." None but him, which went unsaid. He was above all.​

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"And, you would never grow infertile. Your children will span eternity."​

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Pom Stych Tivé ​

 

[Pom Stych Tivé]

the M I S T R E S S
M A L C O N T E N T​

Thine Sith'ari Darth Carnifex​

The weapon the Nightsister wielded many times against men to get what she wanted, long ago before she became a powerful force all her own, Carnifex was keen to turn against his Mistress. So long ago he had called in her favor and she approached him in turn with her proposition to beget her beloved daughter Zeptepi. She since found herself ever after unable to recoil from his urges. He always made sure he earned her attention! She is fully aware that he is equally as selfish as is she herself! She is learned in an ancient knowledge he desires to put to use for personal gain, and she rose in notoriety upon his coattails. Their interaction is an unspoken game they play. From time to time each takes their turn bestowing the attention of a predator. Pom learned in it all, that the power she holds over him, is as equal in her prowess as it is in her surrender into submission to his whim.

She found herself at times, jealous in wanting to be alone with him. Always she found he would come into the Bone Temple when she dwells therein. None else of the Nightsisters ever entered without her being present and they adhered to the strict time schedule of the Witching Hour. More and more the Matriarch set out to enter when no one else would suspect her there but he. His Mistress in her solitary presence, worked him over like she were not only one woman.

His words were not only reassuring, but enticing. She loves her children dearly, and she also loves the time necessary long awaiting their birth. But would these little wondrous joys fade into naught after she should undergo Carnifex's ritual?

Her upkeep to retain her beauty as a Nightsister is quite a prolonged ordeal already. To maybe someday never bear children regardless, the mere thought stabbed at the core of her perceived womanhood! 'Surely there is a way for a Nightsister to retain fertility!' Regardless of all those pleasures life brings, Pomstychtivé could not accept the natural order of life slipping her by, and as a result losing her feminine powers over him. He wants her to join him, and she shall, just she wants to attempt to have it all.

She rested upon his lap and gazed up into his eyes. All the memories she had of their most beloved daughter flooded her thoughts, and Pom felt a sorrowful hesitation surface that she might never enjoy her own children in the future after undertaking her beloved's ritual.

All in all, she determined, "I owe it to the honor of our ancestors to try."

When her mate was threw with her, she collected herself. A porthole tore open before them both. Pom held out her hand for Carnifex join her along in her quest.
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[Darth Carnifex]

"Then let us proceed."​

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Carnifex reached out and grasped Pom's hand, which appeared exceptionally tiny in comparison to his, and stepped through the porthole. Beyond was a kaleidoscopic tapestry of light and sound, time and space splitting apart at the seams as they traveled down its many avenues. A bright light appeared ahead of them, engulfing them, and temporarily rendering their sight inert.​

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When their sight returned, they had appeared at another place in the galaxy.​

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Jungles rose up to meet them, the thick foliage appearing all around them as the air grew heavy with humidity. Carnifex knew immediately where they had been transported, for it had been ingrained in his mind for decades. ​

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This was Dxun, the Demon Moon of Onderon.​

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Carnifex reached down and plucked a flower from the undergrowth, studying it quietly before letting it fall back to the ground. "This is Dxun," he turned to face Pom, "When I was an apprentice I was tutored to a Sith Lord by the name of Daxton Bane. One of my trials involved being stranded on this moon for an entire galactic month, surviving with nothing but my wits, my skills, a knife, and the Dark Side of the Force. To ensure that I would be properly tested, Bane dispatched multiple hunter-killer droids to stalk me through the jungle."​

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That trial took place over thirty years ago, but Carnifex's recollection felt as if it were yesterday. Daxton Bane had been an unorthodox master, one who was not as wholly committed to the ideals of the Sith as he made it appear to be. Carnifex understood that Daxton Bane was still alive somewhere in the galaxy, but during his training, he had quickly surpassed his master in both skill and strength in the Dark Side. He felt no need to keep tabs on Bane, he did not estimate him to be a threat to his power. Although, last he heard he was consorting with the Confederacy.​

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"I destroyed the droids and survived, for my strength in the Force was strong even then. Such trials are essential to the growth of a Sith, although; Bane made one error in leaving me on Dxun. I hail from a world called Panatha, and like Dxun thick jungles coat its landmasses. If he had truly wished to test me, Bane should have stranded me on Hoth. Remember this lesson, Pom, should you desire to walk the path of the Sith and take an apprentice of your own."​

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Pom Stych Tivé ​

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[Pom Stych Tivé]

the M I S T R E S S
M A L C O N T E N T​

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Something familiar came to mind as he spoke about having been here before, a vague feeling, perhaps an echo picked up from her trips into the Nether, where Time, like god, is clearly ruled by nothing scientifically tangible.

Pom reached into her Bag of Conjuring seeking further insight. The second bag of the charmed pair, rested inside an alcove within the Bone Temple on Malsheem. She conjured to her grasp a series of powders from there, and withdrew them from her pouch hung at her hip.

"I think raising your daughters earns enough merit to consider them personal Apprentices!" she returned. In all honesty, the Sith bred would not be able to accomplish much of the Magick of the Nightsisters, the coven members as natural born witches begin their training while still in the cradle! Most of these first lessons concern protection from harm, possession, and poisoning. A Sith would be far behind the Nightsister raised Witch.

Cupping the powders in her palm, she sifted them between her fingers before slowly releasing it into the air. The incantation to her spell slipped from her lips, trained into her memory long ago. Faithful, her magick enlightened her to comprehending the specifics of her intuition.

Time warped inside her mind, and she saw the past unveil before her eyes. Her head cocked lightly to the side as she followed the trail of her powders hung in the air. Not far from where they now stood, the Nightsister witnessed a young Darth Carnifex deposited upon this very soil. Secluded from the elements and beasts, he sat studying something he recovered in nature here, working it in his hands, affecting it's existence with his magick as he willed. Pomstychtivé uncovered the specific types of items she is required to collect in order to perform Carnifex's Ritual of immortality upon herself, certain things which will represent significant meaning to her and to him. Her ghostly image whispered to this younger Carnifex, "Remember where you stash this, Love, and do not waste it on anything trivial." With a smile, she watched his reaction to her ethereal touch. She then implanted a single word into his young mind which she shall speak to him again in the present, to help him recall this specific memory.

Pom's vision ended and she gazed up at Carnifex, "Kik’suyapi," she said, simply 'remember'.
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[Darth Carnifex]

Carnifex slowly moved down onto one knee, reaching out and brushing aside dirt and foliage from a specific point near a large stone. His diligent digging made quick work of the soil, unearthing weathered cloth tied together with a leather sash. Gripping it gently, Carnifex pulled the satchel out from the hole and held it up to inspect it quietly.​

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He did remember burying this, that memory had existed deep within the farthest recesses of his mind. He had not recalled why he had done so, only that he had felt the deepest urge to do so.​

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Now he knew.​

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He held out the satchel for Pom to take, the items she required for this ritual hidden within.​

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"Time is an amusing concept, is it not?"​

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Pom Stych Tivé ​

 

[Pom Stych Tivé]

the M I S T R E S S
M A L C O N T E N T​

​

Darth Carnifex ​

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Everything about the ritual revolves around him. Naturally any tweaks she could think to attempt to concoct must come from aspects of him in particular, his life, things he affected, some trivial, some pivotal moments.

She took what he handed her and inspected it thoroughly. An exoskeleton, of a poisonous critter; not well preserved, but far just enough for what she has in mind. She slipped it into her bag for secure keeping, for the moment.

"Do you still have the scar where it stung you?" she asked. The man's flesh told a story all its own about battle. She knew he had a story for every scar, a prize, honoring his accomplishments. For he had a scar, and the enemy suffered far worse!

She wondered if he knew her secret, the toll her trips to the nether had begun to take on her physical body. The extent of her magick required to sustain her, increased so much with time. She knew full well that as time passes, she will eventually have to dive into his ritual, regardless if she is ready with the alterations or not.

"Do you understand why this means so much to me?" she asked, curious as to his answer, but she did not put pressure on him to reply. "There simply are passions worth preserving, I feel, even the most subtle." What would he think of her, if she just said, she enjoys the relationship between a mother and her children? She feels obligated to teach them everything she is able, magickal secrets she shares with no one else. She believes in their value to the galaxy, should just one among them rise up, beyond either of their imagination. Does he know that she loves them all? Nobody seems to expect the Nightsister to be out front changing the galaxy, as they expect of Carnifex. Pom works behind the scenes for him, striving for greatness.
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