Private O, beware, my lord, of jealousy;

[Darth Vitium]

God's Gonna Cut You Down

It is the green-ey'd monster, which doth mock the meat it feeds on.
- William Shakespeare, Othello​

There were so many benefits to a kingdom built under the crust of its planet, hidden from the spying eyes of enemies that might peer down from the heavens, cut off from the rest of the world and the stars beyond. So long a list to justify the sense of security it gave that its own protection robbed itself of the greatest mitigation of threat, the knowledge of one's own hubris. Impenetrable, unassailable, untouchable. She had heard them all before, long before the Empire was even in its infancy, when she'd been trained as an acolyte and well into knighthood. There was no fortress too great, no defense so strong, to keep everything outside of its walls. It was often times that these magnificent stone facades and iron gates lulled their protectors into the same presumptuousness that the Sith themselves fell into.

It was only a matter of time before the weight of their own hubris would prove them wrong.

-

It was oftentimes thought that the Jedi were the greatest enemy of the Sith, that their eternal war that was sparked at the genocide of its Pureblood ancestors made them their greatest threat. As Silara walked quietly through the gates of this massive subterranean city, welcomed with perhaps only the slightest scrutiny, as inconspicuously as any Sith could in their almost uniform mode of dress, she challenged that very concept herself as her robed form was lost in the sea of people within. It was a common misconception that the Empire was founded on the ban of kaggaths because its emperor believed them bad for his people, or that the careful placement of laws and propaganda that fostered a cult of personality were meant as a means to glorify their dear leader rather than prevent the very infighting and treachery that had acted as the first of many moves on the proverbial dejarik board.

Hours later, when a guard never returned to the barracks, a connection might have been made and hubris might have been recognized. By then, however, Vitium had already made her way deep into the city and arrived outside the palace walls looking just a little different. Gone were the robes of the Sith, but perhaps most puzzling of all the woman that had walked into the city as, well, an older woman, was now in the guise of a much younger man - or perhaps in his flesh. Such sick things one might do to take from another what had been taken from them.

Just another day for the city of Amaranthine. Maybe a squabble between a merchant and a customer here, or a quickly silenced insurrection in the quarters of the poor, but otherwise normal. And a rather unremarkable guard heading to his post?

Darth Morrow

 

[Darth Morrow]

Indeed the missing guard had been noticed by the supervising captain, though it was far too late to make the connection of an intruder in their walls. A quiet search drifted among the city in between crowds and alleys, the common thought of a man shirking their duties being the first conclusion. No eye was batted at the new guard making way to post, the reflective helm leaving no hint of difference. Only when Silara passed into the palace itself to relieve another was a glance spared in her direction; though it was not the servants place to question.

The winding halls of the palace unfolded before the woman, finely decorated with tapestries and murals, fresh flowers surprisingly alive in the edge bringing heat that crept up ones spine. In passing, the large door to lower chamber remained ajar, the stone walls flicking with candle light. Sparing glance inside the room was lined with small statues of those fallen before her, a young girl no older than ten carved in a dark stone, in her hand resting an ancient sword with runic carvings up the blade. Another was a zabraki man carved in great detail, tattoos and all decorating the work with his gaze cast to where one would stand before it in offering. Another was a boy, his features similar to the lady before it, sharp jaw and high cheekbones, in his hand a toy bear carved in marble. Down the room were many others similar, though all of their candles were dim, and the flowers before them faded.

Morrow stood before the boys statue in silence, a hand held before her and in its palm a small flame to light the dark chamber, the candles flicking in the stillness of the air. The hairs on her neck raised as the head peaked into view, the all too familiar feeling of palatable malice creeping across the space.

"I would ask why you have gone through all the trouble to hide yourself and find me, though I'm sure I already know the answer."

The flame in her grasp extinguished itself, her hand moving to rest on the stone shelf before the boys figure. Volcanic eyes illuminated the gripping darkness around them, set on the unwelcome visitor.

Darth Vitium

 

[Darth Vitium]

A smile etched itself into her face, her real face, which distorted the mask of flesh worn over her own skin. Though the idea of wasting her time on someone other than her actual political rivals was anything but pleasant, there was an oddly poetic similarity between the situation she found herself and this woman in now and the circumstances she'd been forced to endure when her eldest child had been ripped from this world and denied the next by the kin of the man this woman was supposedly attached to.

For a moment she contemplated altering the plan, to deliver this woman's head to her husband in a more tame gesture than she'd been given when her child had been decapitated in front of her very eyes, but it was merely a moment all the same. "Don't flatter yourself, you're merely the tablet to carve my message to your betters with." She said, her voice a harsh rasp. Amber eyes sized up the distance between the two of them, which seemed unfavorably wide, before she took a step towards the Iridonian woman. "It occurs to me that this.. suit.. might prevent an accurate identification." She said with an uncharacteristically amused look to her face, the facade of the dead man's flesh slowly sagging away from the corners of her face to greatly exaggerate the expression underneath, while she reached for the lightsaber tucked into one of the many pouches on the dead man's belt.

"I was named Darth Vitium - a reminder to Jedi and Sith alike of their vices. You will be the reminder to Vornskr and Prazutis of theirs."

The crimson beam erupted from the curved-hilt saber, held up in front of her in the traditional Makashi salute.

"Perhaps you will learn to choose better company in the future."

Darth Morrow

 

[Darth Morrow]

A hand reached to her hip where a metal band wrapped its way around her waist, eyes of yellow cast across the gap between them. In her grasp the metal melted and curled, warping around her hand and up her arms to contort around her wrists and form itself into blades attached to the back of her hands.

"To my betters." The ghostly woman shook her head, taking a step forward with her hands outstretched, what would be a sign of peace had they not brandished deadly instruments.

"You seem rather confused. What would they gain by a message carved in me? I'm nothing but a woman seeking silence." An unimpressed expression held her mouth in a line, black lips pressed tightly as she waited for the faintest hint of movement. "Were it my choice I'd have stayed on this planet all my life with my husband and child. Why persecute for a life forced by anothers hand? I promise you they will all care nothing of a simple message carved in my chest. They wouldn't bat an eye."

The womans words were slow, calculated. Every word holding truth, yet how true they were was hard to tell.

Darth Vitium