Private Our Summit ~ Lord Carnifex is Dying

[Pom Stych Tivé]

A Purposeful Life
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His Mistress Pomstychtivé felt it. They all did on Malsheem. The Darkside had shifted to more chaotic violence and less controlled. The entire worldcraft felt like a Darkside experiment gone badly. But what truly drew curiosity is how the reins had not been properly reared in since. The Dark Lord Darth Carnifex is a beacon to all who procure the Darkside of the Force, the foundation of all power, a god, and he is interwoven into their souls here, through and throughout. She could not fully comprehend what exactly is the culprit however, because her lord did not openly express indifference. Her spirit secretly slipped to him while he dreamed, and to her dismay his ghost would not reveal his secret dilemma. She received bits and pieces of the truth of the matter from her jinn. Whispers of Intuition popped into her mind at all hours, but still the Nightsister Matriarch could not fully put into words what exactly he suffers.

She senses it as something she has seen before, eons ago, but only to be found mentioned amidst the pages of the most rare and well sought journals of the Darkest Priestesses ever known to have lived. If it is as she suspects, timing is critical. She left word that she would depart on a journey and she must venture out alone, leaving her endeared coven to remain to tend her many tasks, for her cards and the oracle have revealed her part in it all. What for exactly, still remains the mystery.

Pomstychtivé would die for him.

The servant who delivered her massage to the head wife Gunnr Zambrano , returned with word that Pom should meet with her immediately. Hesitation filled her spirit as time stands against her, to locate the specific, nearly 9,000 year old ritual she seeks, is cause enough for panic, but she obeyed directly as requested.

"I saw something. There is not much time. I must go," she said the instance she stepped over the threshold to stand in Gunnr's presence, and found her to be alone. "But it certainly would help to hear the whole reason why, and exactly what it is I am feeling. Would you please explain it to me?" Her visage dropped to one of a lover's pleading.

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[Gunnr Zambrano]

All Gunnr's official duties as Seneschal halted abruptly the moment Koe confided the grievous extension of his physical impediments. Her staff and the Ruling Council kept Gunnr abreast of all dealings and decisions, she held the honours, but the day to day rule slid to the Council while Gunnr was indisposed. Many saw this as the dutiful Seneschal, who ruled in totem during Carnifex's absence, taking a much necessary respite. Few knew the gruesome truth: Her beloved husband was dying.

The cure for Koe's condition was as macabre as its' cause. From their Uncle Darth Prazutis and his clone-craft soul gathering to the studies of their kin, it fell to Gunnr to tend the man. Why would it not be her responsibility?

"Pom!" The Epicanthix woman rose immediately from her desk, where all manner of holocrons and totems scattered. The regal gowns worn for Kaine's benefit shifted off for a more utilitarian long sleeved blouse of grey spidersilk and black trousers. "Come, sit with me my friend. Koemi is with Magnus and Girak-Kaine. Raya's skills are giving us time."

For the first time, Gunnr admitted the light-sided slip of a mind-fekked girl was useful as more than a distraction for the younger children. Ahani's child remained worthy, for the moment. Pom was as powerful an ally in the battle for Kaine's body as any in the universe Gunnr could petition, yet as Ahani said frequently, the Force led those who listened.

What to confide to the Nightsister? "Kaine confided in me some years ago the method of immortality he uses was fallible. Imperfect. Unlike Ahani, who looks the same today as she did 900 years since, eventually his method and the corresponding Dark Side corruption will lock him into his body. Sight, sound, the sensation of touch… you must've experience it too, how he feels no pain nor touch. Nothing but the most passionate of feelings. I knew… I knew his eyesight began to be affected some time ago, colour bleeding out of his world, blackness in his periphery. But he also kept the full extent of his degradation from me, one less duty on my brow."

'You bear so many burdens my beloved, why would I trouble you with one more?' Kaine's face, as dour as a statue, twitched for her. A wealth of worries in the man most saw as wretch or god. Perhaps Kaine was a form of god, but one whose mysteries opened to her.

"The form of procuring immortality Kaine performed is stealing his ability to function, and will continue to degrade him lest we do more. Prazutis is doing what he must, the clone tanks are churning as quickly as we can for the blood-rites. I know cousin Adara is also on a crusade for souls. Ahani waltzed off on a transport ship yesterday, which means the Force is guiding her to the right place. And while she is off, I have him resting, with the twins and Raya in deep rejuvenating meditations. His soul, Pom… it feels… worn. Ragged."

Pom Stych Tivé

 

[Pom Stych Tivé]

A Purposeful Life
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Tag: Gunnr Zambrano @​

Pom would be lucky to come up to Gunnr's elbows. She ran over to the large desk but did not climb up the oversized chair to sit; she laced her fingers together and set her forearms down upon the table, to provide a cushion for her chin.

With an air of deep shame Pom turned away and admitted to Gunnr, "I did not undergo the ritual. I did wish to, out of respect and conformity." She walked around aimlessly for a bit, her head bowed with her hands interlocked behind her back. "I…wanted to secure for myself and my Nightsisters a way to minimize the functional losses I anticipated would accompany a ritual of such astounding power. But the Wanica do not know this power personally. We were not a hundred percent successful in our quest. Our result had been rather unique, although far less enduring than we would have liked." Neither had any of the coven members been convinced to undergo the ritual as it was presented. Thankfully their worth to the Kainate is far greater than simple compliance. "In all honesty, either for or against it, I must admit I am too vain to know what would be the right thing for me." Keep her looks and child bearing years, but lose so many remarkable physical and emotional experiences in life? To willingly choose to live and die both at the same time, sacrifice her humanity for a man who does and yet does not entirely love her. If Carnifex directly requested this ritual of her, she would have been more compelled to comply. Thankfully he did not. He respected Pom fears, that with the sacrifices of the ritual she would not be able to raise her children with the proper care they required. She can still care as deeply as the Darkside of the Force permits, and wholeheartedly mean what she spouts.

At the news following, of the severity of Carnifex's degenerative state, her knees dropped out from under her and she slumped down into a cushion. "This is the reason he has been so removed, so absent, so quiet," she murmured. Tears flooded her dark eyes. "I didn't want to believe the worst." Her jinn whispered things, sad things, urgent things, but she refused to truly hear it. Just a moment ago their lover would live for an eternity. He could not die was the honest to god reality.

Now all truth has crumbled.

If she cannot believe in Magick, what the hell is there left to reality?!

She forced herself to focus. "It's a long shot, but the Nightsisters mastered an ancient ritual for quite a similar suffrage." She shook her head in disbelief. "It is a tale that dates back nearly 9,000 years, and I am sorry but it is popular belief to be fable today. I have seen visions of its success, but for as many years as it is dated, so must there be equal in number a ritual sacrifice. This I am sure of." She paused in thought for a moment, contemplating the risks. "If its a fable, its a fable from hell. Is it true that when one murders in cold blood, they lose a piece of their own Soul in the act?" She wondered what would be left of her sanity after 9,000 sacrifices…all committed in the blink of an eye.

She rose, struggling not to sway again. "Provided I do find this ancient grimoire, I need 8,981 life forces for the ritual sacrifice. Can you have Uncle (Praz) round those up for me. Virginity is not a factor. Neither is spiritual (Force) alignment." The Mistress felt like her heart was crushed inside her chest. Her weeping would not help him, but it would help her vent so that she is able to focus on the task at hand once again.

Who cannot believe in Magick? This is what you get for relying on Sith Sorcery! Nightsisters don't study the works of just a n y o n e ! !
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[Gunnr Zambrano]

"Koemi did not desire it of me to undergo the ritual, it was… a gift of trust to lay my life at Koemi's feet, and a belief he would never let my spirit fail, and thus I have taken no lessons from Ahani or any in such matters, and now for my sweet ignorance, I am seeking through every method I know and many I've not but heard of to both heal Panatha's scars and Koe's… apologies, I get pedantic when…" When what, a thin voice echoed in her mind, when had she lived through such torrid times? Yet, the soul Gunnr possessed indeed lived terrors worse than this albeit beyond her memory thanks too, to Pom herself.

"Feel no shame for having a mind of your own. Koemi has millions of mindless followers, he values us for the independence of our minds as much as he values our… assets." The Seneschal and Empress-Consort attempted a smile, which crashed off her face and lingered elsewhere, perhaps another memory unattached. She sat upon the desk, the Nightsister dwarfed and petite as humans were, while condensing power into their relatively tiny frames. Gunnr ached to release the yawn growing in her ribcage, sleep was a luxury and now as she waited upon her husband's bedside, the wealth of the Zambranos was not enough to afford such hours.

"Yes. Koe cheated death and death is of ill temper. He…" Gunnr stuttered to silence, her lungs halted. Not metres away, in her chambers laid the unconscious body of Darth Darth Carnifex guarded over by only three of the children. Body lifted, coddled by Raya's healing powers and the synergy of the Twins. Pouring over potential leads to a cure, Gunnr battled her instinct to stay beside her Koe, no. He put trust in her, and she in turn trusted their children. Pushing off the desk, the Epicanthix paced her office, the wild flames of her ginger hair as tempestuous as a fire. "… rrrgh! No! I refuse to mourn him, I will not lose my mate to some… spell! There is a solution, otherwise Ahani would be here and Prazutis would be razing the galaxy to build a pyre from ashes and… no. No, Pom.

Kaine Zambrano does not have our permission to die." Vicious snarls overtook the last of her words, enough bombastic anger to shrink lesser beings hid the crimson lid to her eyes. Salt water poured down her cheeks to the edge of trembling lips. Finally, with a moment spent outside the eyes of Courtiers, Council Members, or children, Gunnr slapped her back against the wall and slid down until she sat legs akimbo on the floor. Face covered with both hands, her shoulders shook. Aware of the dangers to weakness shown of any kind, Gunnr unravelled in the presence of another, whose tears could also not be withheld. First Panatha's devastation, then the shake to Koe's hand? The shutter of his eyes, dimming of his senses? Gunnr hid the quiver of his hands to her own mind's bastion, none would see the weakness of his flesh unless they be as intimate or dear.

"How… long of a shot is it, Pom?" Gunnr's eyes, while stained with her tears, were keen as they bore into the diminutive woman's visage. "If this is to be done, I must know it so we do not have a miasma of conflicting techniques applied to our love."

Our love. Gunnr was well aware and accepting of Pom's affections for their mighty lover, aware of the devotion their daughter displayed. While Zeza's treatment of Girak-Kaine and Magnus often raised Gunnr's eyebrow, her devotion to her sisters and father were as admirable as Pom's willingness to conduct her ritual.

"Do all the sacrificial life forces need to be willing?" Gunnr dragged her hands away from her face, sniffed and held her breath. "I cannot lie to you. Killing in such a fashion, it… empties a person. Destroys the majority, who undergo such things, if they have no tether. But for one who has no such attachment? There are doors, which when shut, become walls."

Pom Stych Tivé

 

[Pom Stych Tivé]

Tag: Gunnr Zambrano @​

Pom listened intently to every word which the well respected Head Wife spoke. It felt a burdensome release hearing the words that she felt Pom should not consider herself any less respectable because she refused the Magick which the Dark Lord Carnifex demanded of his servants. She needed to be reminded of that fact from time to time, as Carnifex himself had spoken much the same to her.

Then…Pom broke, Gunnr too lost control. Pom's heart sank all the more to hear her Elder curse and weep over their situation. Pom discovered a newfound strength when Gunnr wailed, Kaine Zambrano does not have our permission to die, because that he indeed does not! "Over my dead body, first!" she cried out with renewed determination, but the tears still flowed nonetheless. 'How he would scorn us for our pathetic pity!' she thought, and it is most certainly true!

Pom rushed to Gunnr's side and with eyes lowered to respect her elder in her moment of weakness, slipped her arms around Gunnr's neck and set the Epicanthix's head down upon her small shoulder. They would not, could not let him fall!

As the Elder raised her head to look upon Pom, and asked how certain Pom is that that her ritual will mend Kaine, the ornate black Onyx gemstone amulet rested over Pom's heart audibly whirred, signaling its magick initiated for whatever reason. How light reflected across the face of the stone would warp. Pom's gaze drifted off to a distance for a brief moment as it began. "My jinn are loyal to me," she stated in truth. "They led me to the solution…" but she cannot say why it is she believes so strongly that the ritual will work. "It…it…" It only works for our loved ones. She lost the focus of her wording because her amulet concealed the truth from her, the reality of her past. She could use such knowledge this moment however, but Pom has grown so accustomed to the whirring sound it emits, that she does not even hear it anymore. She doesn't even remember that she is ensnared in its magick. She cannot remove the amulet, as it always reappears around her neck, but perhaps someone else can hold onto it for long enough to let her see what evades her…

Pom blinked for a moment, trying to recall why she knows it will work, but the recollection avoided enlightening her conscious thoughts. She relayed what she recalled of the fable behind the ritual, "Sacrifice. They must come from planets where there has been such a dark ritual initiated before. Any city where a dark ritual of this magnitude took place is acceptable. The darkness raised by one who used it, taint such a place forever." She turned to stare directly into Gunnr's eyes and declared, "Demons will follow along with the capture of those they possess, to further torment the victims, but they too will be trapped to bond with the Current of Souls." Pom's eyes softened, whatever possessed her to say what she said had just released her.
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[Gunnr Zambrano]

Often the eradication of emotion seemed to find no benefit in the lives of those, who supported the diarchic mighty Lords. Solid as beskar was the belief Gunnr held: her Koe required emotion from her, a litmus test for events outside his experiences, cold and hard as he was. While the useful taming of emotion was an encouraged and powerful pursuit, the ability to feel at all gave Gunnr strengths her husband swore off decades before she was born.

The feel of his right hand weakened with a shake nigh shattered the image of Darth Carnifex's invincibility. Was he invincible, or divinely mighty? As her head crashed onto Pom's shoulder, Gunnr revived the moments of their past, dropped beneath Dromund Kaas in a nefarious plot. Even then, alone and starved, Kaine was perilously strong. When he suffered wounds without pain, waved off explosions which levelled cities, watching the man's hand tremour and vision dim was agony. To see his ears unresponsive to his children's voices, long pauses in distant stare… was it always this way? No. The degradation took years to fester as much as it did. The Queen and Seneschal wept in Pom's arms, a kindred lover who adored their beloved.

Was the man beyond their aid? Gunnr dried her eyes with her palm and sniffled.

"He hides so little from me… Braxus knows all, they share a bond I live in wonder of, as they should. Braxus and Kaine are two, but one. He won't let Koe fade… But I shall not stall and mourn like some whimpering coddled princess. You and I, we will do what we must to maintain him. And while we allow our ministrations to heal his failing body, we will find the cure." Reaching for a tissue (mothers perpetually kept them somewhere), Gunnr took another breath and wiped her face. "How does the spell work? I assume there are few places that exact spell were performed. Dathomir perhaps? I know Wayland and Mandalore both received wroth of considerable note, Wayland perhaps would be an easier raid, and faster with less attrition in the brave. Are there other, less known places? I will have Iza's spies investigate."

Their tears spent, Gunnr stood and cradled Pom into her arms to set her atop the desk. With a wave of her hand, she called forth a holomap of the galaxy, waved away uninhabited worlds. All the while the reverberations of Pom's amulet called to the Panathan Priestess, sung a hymn she nearly recognized, if the thought was allowed to linger long enough.

"That amulet, may I? I've never seen one quite like it… maybe once." A brotherly gift echoed in her mind, then shifted off. "I sense… maybe it's the day's exhaustions donating a fiction."

Pom Stych Tivé

 

[Pom Stych Tivé]

Tag: Gunnr Zambrano @​

Pom's heart broke for her sister, as it did for sisters one and all. Sometimes such things are necessary to remind us of our humanity, or the true spiritual nature of whatever species to which we are fashioned. So many indulgences taken upon a whim, yet to truly feel and be present is sometimes hindered by many other things what steal our attention. Not this moment however. "Here. Take this." Pom reached into her purse tied to her hip and untied the drawstrings. She reached in and magickally recalled a small glass vial into her grasp. Its cork is sealed with Blue wax. She held it out to Gunnr. "One sip in the morning, and another at night. For you, and if necessary for him."

Pom thought about the many questions Gunnr asked. The answers lingered just outside of her grasp. She knows the answers. Why won't they form fully within her mind and upon her lips? Pom nodded as Gunnr mentioned her Onyx amulet. Normally she wouldn't think to remove it, but with Gunnr so tall, the Nightsister thought it a might disrespectful to expect the Head Wife to bend down to view it. Pom reached out with the pendant to place it in Gunnr's hand and then quickly she removed the chain of gemstones from around her neck.

As soon as Pom released the magickal item entirely into Gunnr's grasp, Pom's mind flooded with the answers, revealed among a history she purposefully hid from herself. She froze, her vision did not see where she was, but was painted over with where she had once been. This amulet was a token from the Fanged God on bequest of Pom herself and Vytal Noctura. Pom learned since that her Dathomiri god is no god compared to Carnifex who vanquished the beast's hold upon the Nightsister long ago. Pom learned to use the dated Nightsister god, and not have it be the other way around. She is nobody's servant.

"Is there some pace you can put that, where it's magick cannot reach me? Somewhere in absolute seclusion?" she requested of Gunnr. "Do not tell me where you shall send it, for it is never apart from me for long. It always finds me. I need to remember something important, and it must remain securely locked away from me in order that I recollect fully."

Pom waited for Gunnr to send it far away, hopefully quickly. "Learn with me?" she invited. At that moment she reached out a hand towards Gunnr, as a spirit that had been held off in the distance by the Amulet came crashing into Pom's, delivering her lost memories as if carried upon the clash of a tidal wave. Pom's first thought was of her desire for a particular potion to sustain her, but she could not make a move for it, as the visions drew her in immediately both physically captivated and emotionally curious. As Pom witnessed flashbacks of her past life, she permitted Gunnr to see as she. Pom knew the answers to her questions would be found here. The Force knew it to be true.

She saw herself, and yet understood this was also not herself, not here and now. An estranged husband led this Sith to separation and fornication with her true Soulmate. His jealousy would not be bridled. Images flashed before her eyes of her love child, a son, grown to manhood a great warrior!​

Her being filled with unbridled passion these two lovers had shared between them, emotion far greater than any other this Nightsister could ever recall enjoying. No other joy during her past lifetime stole her attention away from Kamari, except for that of their son.​

Murder followed, her own torturous murder by the ex-husband who demanded her heart, but she could not and would not give it. Arcane technology limited their raising the Force to escape. Her Soulmate and true husband, Kamari, a little over two hundred years ago had been forced to watch the tragic event. Her ex surely earned retribution for all his heartache.​

Her son's heart was so wholly crushed at news of Cylaeria demise, that he commissioned the Nightsister Matriarch to raise his Mother from the dead having only a chip of her dried bones in his possession. Her body was regrown inside the Nightsister High Priestess' womb, and Cylaeria's memories destroyed her mind and her unborn's darkness devoured her life energy. Far from ample gestation the surrogate mother died, and Cylaeria's body would be grown and born to a mother long sustained on life support. This resurrection abomination did not remember her origins. Such would be revealed in time.​

Her son fell on the battlefield, leaving Cylaeria to be raised by the Nightsisters who named her Pomstychtivé meaning 'Vengeful'. She was adopted and raised among siblings. In time Pom somehow naturally gravitated home to her husband again. Her past fought to come alive as her Soul struggled to remember the truth which Kamari revealed. She found her lifetime as Cylaeria pushing to the surface, causing Pom to develop a split personality. The passion Kamari offered was far too intense for the Nightsister to withstand, who after spending some time with him ran as far away from him as she could travel. The whole ordeal, and the idea of him, far too overwhelming to accept.​

All this had flashed through her mind almost instantaneously, causing Pom to force her thoughts to reveal what her own Soul had witnessed before her reincarnation…the ritual that tied her to her new body, let her retain her self-awareness with her likeness the spitting image of Cylaeria. The outcome which brought about a second lifetime for Pom had been the third among five different versions of the same Spell. She remembers seeing the ancient journal which contained each of these. She could literally see the words just then while in her trance. Pom would venture into hell to find these five; luckily, having a direct connection to it as to have undergone the first three steps of the Spell, she is quite capable of discovering its location amidst the vast galaxy.

"Any place where any extensively heinous magick or Force power was called upon is an acceptable place to cultivate such sacrificial offerings," she answered Gunnr finally, releasing their bond. "As for an easy method to corral these people…steal them away into the Nether. Let them draw all manner of entities and demons to themselves there. I shall submit them all, spirit and demon, elemental and entity alike as sacrifice!"

The words on the parchment she just witnessed matched up exactly with what she remembered of the fable. The thought caught her focus for a moment. "We have one single, complete Dathomir Moon Cycle. No longer, no sooner." And the first Full Moon occurs within this very night. Had she left as she had planned, a few hours too early, Pom's impatience could have ruined the whole Spell! "It is almost as if being taught this fable as a youngling, somehow, the Nightsister Elders foresaw the ritual's utilization in this very event, for the sake of sustaining Carnifex. They kept my origin a secret from me for the longest time. It was not until I found Kamari that they relayed the truth. They feared his retaliation for holding onto me for so long, not knowing he even existed. My reincarnation was a monetary purchase."

"A drink, please!" she requested, but with her emotions regarding the recollection of her past life and the origins of this one, caused her to sound half demanding in it.

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[Gunnr Zambrano]

Tag: Pom Stych Tivé

This lady in Pom's arms was always wild. A force of gravity and violence when cornered, but perilously gentle in the intervening times, the soft lilt of affections ferociously kept. Civility was a cloak upon her, but how ragged would that cloak become if she lost her centring influence? Gunnr sniffed again and stretched her neck from side to side, sinews and muscles popping as she did.

"Thank you. I will take as directed." Fatigue laced her eyes, already red with their fallen tears. Still, although she held no memory of particulars, Gunnr knew she'd survived harder times than these.

The amulet had a suspicious weight, girded by the energies which surrounded the onyx stone the second it hit Gunnr's palm. "… Pom? Are you well?"

Gunnr thumbed the stone, felt the weight of its' removals and powers. It sung to her, a dissonance out of tune with her own soul, but eager to attach and sing again. She nodded with a purse of her lips, and cleared her throat. Within seconds, a wiry girl in the beginnings of her pre-teen years with raven hair which waved about her flushed olive skin trotted in.

"Yes, mother?" Taiya's emerald eyes widened as she caught her breath and smoothed the front of her dark green dress.

'Take this. Hide it in the chamber where Gigi goes and call Adara. Have her remove it from this place to one where no magicks can sense. Go now. Come back when this has been done.' Gunnr handed the necklace to the child, her voice silent to Pom but strong in Taiya's mind. Before the child rushed off, Gunnr leaned down and kissed her forehead. Ruffled the black tresses.

"Little Taiya… she was an infant a blink ago, I swear. I find myself counting more on my children than a mother ought, these last days. But! They are strong and capable. She wants only to be of use so one day her parents can be proud." Seated next to Pom, Gunnr stared at the woman's slight hand for enough time to assure the amulet was whisked further afield. "Yes, I will sweet one."

A sordid tale relived in the blink of a breath, Pom's true memories craned into Gunnr's mind like an arrow's shaft which cracked and fragmented while inside a wound. She gasped for air, her mighty body ashudder as she shook her head to clear it. Wine was brought with another quick order from the Seneschal, two wine glasses and plenty of the beverage between them. Gunnr waited for the decraniated servant to pour by searching the holomap, before swirling and sniffing the vintage.

Let it settle her, let it hold her to the moment instead of flitting away in a tumult. As the wine tipped past her lips, Gunnr gasped and shook her head again, dried her eyes with a tissue. The energies from Pom's amulet, flashes of vision… settled close to another woman who loved her spouse, a woman who too went through the blazing embers of the Netherworld and death's grip, one who prepared to conduct a heinous ritual to save her beloved, Gunnr whispered.

"He killed me, I think." Released, the thought blossomed until it contained the room, silenced all other noise or thoughts. "I remember drowning over and over, while the waters would not break. I remember his arms, the whisper of a voice thick with battle-tar. Pomstychtivé I think my husband killed me. The way my siblings look at me, when they think I am otherwise engaged, there's a sorrow I do not understand. They seem wary as caged beasts in Koemi's presence, which at first I thought was significant of their harrowed devotion and recognition of his power. But they continue to seem shaken."

She stared at the holomap, dragged her fingers to recenter on Mandalore, so close to Dathomir. "They are Mandalorians, I am not. They survived wars, I've fought only battle for Panatha or with Koe… but I… I see weapons and know their techniques. Perhaps it is only my talents in the Force, and I am content with that, but… even Girak-Kaine, my firstborn son, the way he looks at me. Minces words… If Koemi is hiding some secret from me, if I did something which became reason for my death…"

Her words crashed, a muffle to her ears as she voiced them. Spinning the map, she came upon Bastion instead, then expanded the scale to the entire galaxy. Dispelled unpopulated worlds, then those which from their Malsheem records had no Dark battles upon them. Focused on Maena. "… I trust his rationale as I trust him. Completely. How could I not lay every part of me at his side, when I receive his mercy as few would hazard to fathom it? Not many Sith could say such things, but I don't believe my trust is foolish. It is battle-worn and I will fight any deity, power or principality which takes that man from my side. From us. Maena. We can procure the necessary lives from Maena."

Never spoken, not considered except in the quietest of moments, Gunnr revealed the breadth of the secrets she understood, an intimacy shared in-kind with Pom as they drank wine and planned mass murder for their lover and their Lord. "Refresh my mind, one lunar cycle on Dathomir, exactly how much time do we have before the ritual must take place?"

 

[Pom Stych Tivé]

Tag: Gunnr Zambrano @​

"… Pom? Are you well?"

The Nightsisters' equilibrium shifted off kilter but she held her stance and continued to sit properly upright upon the edge of the desk. She watched their young daughter approach, and intentional forced her thoughts to concentrate elsewhere, for having no clue where the amulet would be taken would help her cut ties with it for the time being. It always finds its way back to her, far sooner than she would prefer.

Pom wondered if the son revealed to her once again, ever lived long enough to have children of his own.

The deafening of its hum she has never been without, since it's creation and token offer to her. Pom had exchanged loyalty to the Fanged God for its seclusion of her thoughts from consciousness. How amusing, Carnifex subjugated the Nightsisters' Fanged God, and Pom still utilizes that demigod's powers regardless of his current lack of will to provide for her! Their Dark Lord has given them so much to be thankful for! Pom felt a sting of melancholy for Carnifex.

Only moments ago, Cylaeria, a pastille memory trapped within Pom's consciousness, unearthed the details of her Soul's own torturous murder. Kamari, her lover had broken free of his chains and killed her estranged husband. There is no one left alive to appease her wrath. Her stomach nearly wretched at the vividness of her recollection. She had been caged, the Darkside of the Force blocked from her use. The sword slowly slit into her flesh and withdrawn repeatedly. It felt like an eternity she begged to die. She had been sliced and diced to a pulp.

For love? What truly is its worth in the end, when love calls upon an equal measure of anger to suddenly level it into non-existence?

The Nightsister already felt shellshocked before Gunnr shared some similarities in her own tale. Gunnr's words forged a deeper connection with Pom. The Dept of her sister's pain. The memory of, and knowledge which had been cultivated by Cylaeria, struggled to surface throughout all her life. It had been held at bay only by the amulet. It is the reincarnation ritual she had undergone that kept her memories alive. "What good is it to remember?" she asked Gunnr as she drew long from her wine glass. "I feel the intensity of the ritual from my past a guide for me. To remember for the time being, is just something I must endure. But do you need to remember as I?" Pom could help Gunnr forget, but instead she did something better. She set out her Jinn to ask questions and listen to the echoes of the past. There are events Pom will never inquire about her own life, this one, or the last. Her son fit into that category. How she had mourned the loss of him while she last lived with Kamari.

What Gunnr had revealed warped the image of her perfect mate in Pom's eyes. "I choose to no longer bare the burden of one who brandishes a desire to be loved." The Misandrist at heart, broke out in a laughter tainted with an air of lunacy. Then her smile suddenly vanished all too quickly, she swayed lightly at the effects of the wine before continuing. "Love cannot exist without hatred in equal abound. Is that not what we believe? In all things balanced?" She turned to stare into the face of the strong woman before her. "He loves you," she stated in fact. "He loves you. Everyone else is second, or simply last, when you are around. I don't worry about him reaching inside my chest and crushing my heart because he has you whom he loves." She focused on her glass. "I love your wine. Is this the sacrificial stuff?" She slipped right back on topic. "You know, I was always envious of you. It is just my nature, don't be alarmed. You don't think it haughty of me; do you? It is not any attribute I appreciate of myself, believe me. But my own past, that glimpse into it…THAT fully explains why I am so discontent with life. Would you agree? I'm so bored, I feel aimless at times, and yet I would not dare to top any life experience I suffered before! No, I do not want to be loved ever again."

Her thoughts slipped to when she ran away from Kamari. She was always seeking the next level of high. Then when she had her amulet, she found no reason to be so careless with her own existence. She would raid the cupboard later tonight for sure, her addiction set in it some time ago. "As soon as we finish the ritual," she seethed, her speech slurred, and with a frown aimed right into the brim of her glass, "I must have the amulet back." Pomstychtivé felt emotions of yesterday as if flourished just now, and she could not shove the intense pain, both physical and emotional, back out of her mind.

"How long do they have?" she had been asked. She wrangled a finger in the air as if drawing out the Math, grasping tight the stem of her glass with one hand. "Four moons break away from their current daytime celestial alignment in two days time, to converge along the proper path…afterwards…in two point one-two-five weeks."

Pom's spiritual servants returned to her and whispered to her once again, this time regarding Gunner's outburst about her black memory. Pom reached out her hand towards the woman's chin. "Do not fret," she told the head wife. "For I have it on good authority to inform you that your memory of drowning may very well go farther back in reincarnations than you may remember. I think its ties to a more distant time, and is not a reflection on any mistreatment of our beloved Carnifex."

Pom cupped her ginormous host's goblet and sipped the very last drop…then slipped off the edge of the desktop, onto the floor.

Was she headed out somewhere?
Two days time to prepare…

And BLACKNESS completely overtook her vision.


'It's so quiet without the amulet.'​

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[Gunnr Zambrano]

Pom Stych Tivé

One could but wonder at the inner machinations of another's mind, as an Epicanthix Gunnr was naturally impenetrable in all empathic intrusions aside from her own spoken words. While Pom rested in silence, Gunnr wondered what it was like for other species, whose thoughts came as jumbled fogs. Open to others as mist opens to the air of a planet. The truth of her weighted down, Pom Stych Tyvé was power and empathy when the Nightsister appeared vicious without restraint. Was it right of her to doubt her death? To question the drowning, black waters, which once released gave her lifetimes more?

To question Carnifex's mortality was to question her own, as she'd laid her lifespan at his feet in spousal worship. Thus, Gunnr clung to the battle of it, the fight of conquering death for her beloved and herself. For their children and those among them they called blessed. Those like Pom. Gunnr sipped deeply of her cup and waited for more to be poured. It would not dull her as quickly as it seemed to dull the Nightsister from metabolism and size alone. Vicious images of death.

"Let me learn from you. I do not wish to remember. Whatever Koe took from me, I must believe I am better for it, even if my siblings still bear the burden. Since I see they do bear it, and have made no action to inform me, I hold to my convictions. It is better not to know." Slice upon slice, the severing of a spine. The drowning of deep waters. She eyed Pom with a stern but supportive face, micro-movements in her brow and cheeks the indication of mercy. Curious sensations, love, and another's view of it. As Pom spoke of Carnifex's singular love, Gunnr felt the sway between her ribs. An infilling grand enough, horrific enough to keep motion in their desired stars.

"Our affections have always been tempestuous. I cannot fathom giving up such a fuel, but passion's vein is my way through to the angers the Dark requires." Gunnr laughed, the expectorated sound clung to the walls, an echo to the warmth of Malsheem. "We are beasts and monsters, apex predators in the same range, Koe and I. Attacking each other was as inevitable as Nexu meeting Nexu in the wilds of Vendraxa's jungles. But love? It came slowly, crept like another beast in the grass. A mutual understanding, it's…"

Gunnr stopped and sipped her wine, tasted the words which pressed upon her tongue before she spoke them. "… you are mighty, but physically breakable. Think of the care and attention to control Koemi must use to so much as touch one of the half-blood children or one of our lovers? Even Salara, albeit Epicanthix, is no taller than you. With me, we held nothing back, fought hard. I remember this one battle, don't know why we were fighting, but I elbowed him so strongly in the top of his head his brains spattered across my armour. He threw me to the other side of the battle tent, held me down with the Force and… I watched his face reconstruct. Watched his stagger and repair. No matter what I threw at him, he always in the end, held me.

I think in his eyes he admired the violence. It felt like release." Yes, he loved her. As fission loved the explosion of heat, he loved her. They shared their weaknesses, as limited as his were, the memories of childhood. She knew him like none but Braxus their mighty immortal Uncle. Different levels of knowing… did it create jealousy? "It's from Vena, the wine. Braxus' daughter Adara has vineyards still on the planet. Jealousy is inevitable at times in romance, especially when one is given to multiple lovers. I… I can never fail him. I can but throw every part of me at his fists, and hope they extend to open arms. And our children! I understand too well some of their half-siblings and precocious youths who wish to make their mark may swell with a desire to see them fall. His love is an open challenge to my little family, Pom. We must be exceptional to keep this love we've earned, and understand its' causeways, lest others attempt to supplant us in his eyes. Yet… I trust it. I trust in it, strange, it's not the most Sithly of traits, but… maybe for him I have always been a trusting, foolish woman."

As she held the smaller woman, Gunnr breathed and ran her hand along Pom's hair, to smooth it. She thought of the pillow talk, the times he entered her dreams when they were apart, images of his abused childhood and how they shaped and skewed his resolve. And when he slaughtered his parents' souls in the Netherworld, Gunnr felt the act as if she'd been waiting with eyes-wide some metres off. "… two days, then two weeks…"

When Pom slipped off the desk, Gunnr steadied her with a telekinetic push to a cushion their youngest played on most days, while mother worked. Gunnr swirled her wine and sat, legs sprawled shoulder width apart and picked at her lip with an idle finger.

"Viggo."

"Mother?" Young Viggo saluted with all the strength in his fifteen year form, stood at attention with a dour purse to his lips. She stared at the dusty hair darkening from its' near-blonde of babyhood, the armour he wore over his tunic and trousers. The lightsaber hilt at his side. "… Mum?"

"Bring your Uncle Skorvek to me at once. And have Adara brought to me the moment Taiya and she finish their current business. Go now."

"But… who will protect you?" The boy quirked his eyebrow, stepping back only once.

"Hah. Who indeed? I protect myself, son. Go." She waved her hand at him and he felt the soft telekinetic push, before he ran off with the eagerness of youth. Hitting her comm panel, Gunnr called up an encrypted chime for Darth Prazutis . What she wished to discuss was for no other ears, but the chime was a gentle method of petitioning the mighty Dark Lord that Kaine's beloved had word. "Uncle Braxus, a word, when convenient."

 

[Pom Stych Tivé]

Tag: Gunnr Zambrano ​

The Nightsister Matriarch heard and understood everything the Head Wife shared. There is one thing which perhaps bonded them closer than every before. The Nightsister knew jealousy could be the root cause of murder; such was the cause of her own during her prior incarnation. Nightsisters, however hold to a code of integrity, whether or not Gunnr knows of it. Pomstychtivé upholds her promises. Jealous or not Pom, was raised with a particular devotion to uplift sisterhood bonds over all others. Sisters will always be there to pull one another through. It was not just by Carnifex's choice to welcome her into his life that Pom felt a kinship with the bloodline she helped evolve, but the fact that in addition she truly admires the Head Wife.

Men have always kept to their own agenda. Women could be cast aside like nothing of value when their agenda takes a turn. The sisterhood exists because of the mistreatment of men. Men are ever so fickle. They think women are, and women know they are and will tell you so, but in the course of her personal history, a man will never admit to being incorrect in the first place, which might lead to the changing of his mind, perhaps due to denied quirks. They are head strong and have to retain their righteous exterior no matter the circumstance. A man can see a thing’s truth, and if it fits his agenda best to deny its very existence, he shall with fervor. He will rant and rave in error, of intelligent scientific background, or absolute malarkey, but still rave all the same. He would uphold his lie to everyone around him, try to convert them to his lunacy, convince himself to believe it too. He may even start a church revolving around his nonsense, before he would admit to himself that he is in error. All this he might do shamelessly, to make the woman be wrong. All this he does for certain to spite her who has tarnished in his eyes because she no longer buys into what spouts from his mouth.

Any woman who behaves this way ought to keep a man as her best friend; they deserve one another. That is no sister any woman with a moral compass needs to endure…or maybe she is just being fickle. We cannot know until she decides to tell us so.


Through the following two days Pom has secluded herself to absolute Darkside meditation, her focus observed and amplified by and attentive Wanica Coven. Through ritual, she became spiritually prepared to set out on her mission, while the Sith Lords plotted an orchestration for the cultivation of worthy Souls.

A single requirement remains which she must possess before she embarks. She requested Gunnr present her to Carnifex where he rests. Understanding the need for the presence of the children to remain by his bedside, Pom insisted they turn their faces away while she prepped Carnifex for what was to follow. She did not look him in the eye, for she did not wish to see the magnitude of his degeneration which brought Gunnr to tears; however she could feel his slipping endurance. She thought about the weight of his state upon the children, and lastly she peered at Gunnr, in her heart she vowed she would succeed for her family. Upon his bedside blanket, she set down gauze, tape and a pair of pliers. In swiftness of action one of his digits would be removed. His wound quickly wrapped before the children could comprehend exactly what she had done. She left his room immediately for her departure, leaving him in the care of his wife.


The singular most self destructive realization bothering the Nightsister is that it took her spirits to discover the sorry state of existence. She had turned the thought over and over in her mind.

‘Carnifex accepted that he was going to die. Others fought with all their might to sustain him this long. Not a word of this fact did he speak. He was just going to allow himself to up and die…

…and he didn’t even tell me.’

She wondered if in others alone lie his absolute measure of faith and trust? This silent thought grew to a self inflicted wound which hurt Pom more than the thought of losing him, for with the involvement of everyone, his body and his Soul can be mended. Wounds however do heal when the inflicting party is not even aware they exist.​

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[Skorvek]

When he recieved the request he didn't hesitate to come, he even used the Netherworld to speed up travel for it sounded urgent as a tear opened and he walked out and the tear closed up behind him he immediately went to find Gunnr Zambrano , His sister required something and wether he said it or not too her before her new life if she needs something from him he will deliver. If she wants the stars in the sky she need only to ask and he will snatch them all and deliver them too her, If she wanted every soul within the Netherworld he will swallow his paranoia of such a place and give her the keys.


He observed the other as well Zeptepi Zambrano he only has seen her once but she was a interesting individual what experiments do they have in store this time?

 

[Gunnr Zambrano]

At once, Pom would see how dire the situation became with the source of the light in Gunnr's personal chamber. No illumination globes nor faux glows from holographic landscapes bathed the world-craft's inner sanctum. Hovering over the bed, a being of pure white light shone as both beacon and cascade. The steady breath from Darth Carnifex 's lungs eased when Gunnr stepped into the miasma and took his hand.

'I've got you, Daddy. Your Ray'a Sunshine's got you.' Raya, eldest of Ahani & Kaine, floated in a trance by her father's head, hands open on either side of his temples. Flickers of prismatic colours flashed out of fingers and hair as the young woman radiated a devoted and healing life. Silver hair roiled with colour, skin glowed and the devotion upon Raya's face betrayed the truth: Only with her careful control was her power not burning the beings of Darkness to cinder.

'My strength will not fail you, father.' Magnus and Girak-Kaine hovered at either side of Carnifex, the eldest twins of Yasha and Kaine conceived inside the then-untamed Force Nexus of Dromund Kaas, in those black waters Gunnr remembered. Both twins, taller than even their father, stayed in a meditative trance with legs folded. Slit at their arms, blood flowed in a rivulet between the three: father and his sons. The blood flowing from Carnifex was as black as the ichor of those cursed waters, through Magnus it flowed, becoming the colour of deep ochre.

'...' Girak-Kaine's face contorted with his shifting head, the youth's foresight aided Raya's healing, took the deafness, the lack of peripheries from his mighty father. He looked constantly into the nearest future, guided Raya's concentration. The blood flowing from Girak back to Carnifex was as bright red as the crimson within their livery. A gift of stabilization. Removal of any one from the tryptic would cause devastation to replace devotion. Magnus' strength & Raya's healing without Girak-Kaine's temperance, Girak-Kaine's scattered mind without Raya's passion and Magnus' focus. Raya's light without filter of the Dark twins… the father suspended in the middle was in this one moment, a man of faith not in himself but the strength of others.

Koemi would never have committed this vulnerable act if the situation wasn't dire or if he held no trust in Gunnr to preside over it. The enemy at their gates was more than militia and lone fighter seeking to gnash their jaws at a mighty man's weakness. The jealousy of lovers. It was Kaine's distrust, the perilous pride he kept in being formidable. And she saw him. She saw the child he'd been, shared over dreams and pillow talk. She saw the grasping young man who learned the Force and bled in battle. The man who became ineffable to keep and grow his power to a fever pitch. She saw Kaine Zambrano become as a god. Gunnr saw him hold her in the chasms beneath Dromund Kaas, as her teeth chittered and body shook with hallucinations. The way he breathed Magnus' name when as a child of five, Magnus finally climbed his 'talking mountain' to sit on his father's shoulders.

"Children? Rest." The energies flickered, superficial wounds closed and all three youths flopped groggily onto palates on the floor beside their father's bed. Girak-Kaine gently set their father onto the bed and crashed unceremoniously against his brother's back so Pom might get the digit she needed, unquelled by Raya's agonizing Light. "Do what you must, sister."

Without the trio, Gunnr steadied her shoulders and grew her spirit around him, nestling the man inside her ever-lifebound aura. She would not let him fall further into degradation. If gentility could become the man even for a moment, the relax of his lips, ease to his cheeks and utter belief in his safety at Gunnr's touch proved the smallest measure of it. "Rest, my love."

The truth deepened beyond Pom's knowledge. Koe kept his worsening condition from even Gunnr, confidence in finding a solution himself waned as the shake took him. Aware she may have been of the potential for an acceleration of the spiritual disease, but the extent of it? The rapidity of the degradation was kept from her too. Once Pom left, Gunnr laid beside Koe and held him in her meditations.

The monstrous power of Gunnr's sibling swept through the antechamber connected to this space, but out of sight of it. Gunnr's head rose.

"It's okay, you go. We've got Daddy." Raya wobbled to her feet, and with a shrug of her shoulders, returned to her meditative pose at his head. Gunnr watched her sons mutely mirror Raya, the dark circles under their eyes and pale cast to their skin another gift they gave their father. Tying her hair up in a messy bun atop her head, Gunnr walked out of the room in crumpled clothing with eyes rimmed from fatigue.

"Brother!" Without word of the predicament happening a room away, but for the feel of the myriad energies, Gunnr hugged Skorvek and set her face on his shoulder. She rested there a moment, caught her breath. This was no 'lover's vacation' as she and Kaine told the populace… but what? "I need your help. I need you."

She inhaled and held in the breath, centred herself before gently shifting within arm's length from his Anubian form. "There is a ritual, I… I need 9,000 living people. Preferably from Maena or a place where dark magics reigned. They must be kept in the Netherworld surrounded by sithspawn until the ritual's time then transported here to Malsheem. We… there is little time, A few days, a week. Remind me, where are your Netherworld gates? I would have Malsheem move to the nearest position."

 

[Skorvek]

He felt the myriad of light and dark funneling through out the room and now he was asked to bring 9,000 souls to the netherworld? ...What is the purpose of this asking for so much, he returned the hug before he asked her he had a phantom of himself return to the Nether to collect all the entities needed from dark places such as Erebos or Maena as well as collect every soul adn beast within the nether as well

As my sister I will see it done but I must ask ....what has transpired I haven't seen you panicked like this before, as for the gates near by to Malsheem Erebos and my city on Lahos hold a nether gate entrance.


Something has transpired and it wasn't long after she spoke with Carnifex that this happened either.

Zeptepi Zambrano Gunnr Zambrano

 

[Gunnr Zambrano]

Gunnr knew manipulating her brother's love was in her, an aspect of the Dark she could exercise to receive the help Koe needed. With a few words, a careful lie, she could keep Carnifex's illness at bay. Maintain the image of Dark Carnifex as perilous and mighty, which even lying in coma, he was. Dark powers radiated from the man's body, threaded through his sons and the Light of his daughter. As she kept her forehead against Skorvek 's shoulder, Gunnr's mind wandered momentarily to Pom Stych Tivé 's words from her Jinn. The drowning was a previous experience…

Skorvek knew, he knew what Gunnr did not. Was it family's place to dispel evidence where harm could be done? Stepping back, Gunnr sat atop her desk and used her palms to dry emerald eyes. Sniffing deep, Gunnr searched her brother's shoulders, the muzzle of his chin and flicking black ears. Did he keep the truth from her out of her benefit? Again, the trust Gunnr naturally carried for her loved ones turned true. While this trust did not reside in her heart for all she loved, when it came to her husband and her brother, she clung to it like a balm to all pains.

"If I asked it of you, would you tell me how I died? Would you tell me why? Was it…. a mistake of drowning? My foot caught on a branch?" No, although manipulations and lies were part of Sith life, they could not reside in Gunnr's. "I know there are moments which haunt you when you look at me. I don't know what they are… but I trust the silence is for my benefit and you and Koe do what is best. Trust me, I do what is best. These… souls… are for a ritual to save life. I…"

Working her jaw, Gunnr looked to the door between Carnifex, the children and the antechamber. Koe would want as few people as possible seeing him like this, and Gunnr knew to guard her husband's dignity. "… I am asking this of you for our family's sake. I've called on Adara, she can prepare the Lahos gate, Malsheem will make its' way to Lahos immediately… when the time is right, I will tell you, if you ask it of me."

 

[Skorvek]

With her words it practically answered his question for me...to save a life and she was in this state would only mean someone close to her in the family is dieing or has died, Adara last he heard was healthier then ever, Stardust was equally as healthy and he just saw Ahani not too long ago and he could feel the living presence of the other children near by.

This means Carnifex was dieing.....If this had been told to him during his Mandalorian days he would probably have accelerated his passing however this is not the same Anubian he owe's Carnifex due to saving his sisters life and giving her a new one, then the question he knew was eventually coming to pass came to pass, She asked him about the life she used to have...memories she doesn't have that he does, It was better to tell her then to not tell her. His posture indicated a sigh as he sat down and motioned her to do like wise before he spoke.


I will tell you the life you used to have, It is the least I can do, but know this ...you where given a life better then the one I met you in, may these memories benefit you in this life further rather then be a anchor...Actually I believe this will do better then words, I will show you the life you used to know as I have seen it...if you wish it.



Gunnr Zambrano

 

[Gunnr Zambrano]

"My husband, Dark Lord of all the Sith, a man of cruelty unparalleled of any but Braxus, to those he considers unworthy, he…" Gunnr's mouth wobbled incredulous, she sat on the desk behind her, atop the scattered flimsiplast documents and tomes, research fine enough to send the most eager treasure hunter to their deaths to find a corner of the material. "He gave me this?"

She motioned to the antechamber, its finery unlike anything outside Panatha in its' glory. Her heart sunk to the children, their emerald eyes and olive complexions, the strength in even little Azarna whose four (and a half, Mummy) years shone in acrid times, the enchanted lives made hard by a perilous dictum that they be ever closer to perfection unachievable for any but her younglings. But theirs…

"Darth Carnifex altered my mind, and gave me this? A perfect childhood on Panatha, scattered screams of joy and militant training in Qocia, hunting in the jungle when I was small, alone with Mother. Responsibilities befitting my station in House Fitz-Kierke, to prepare me for amazing things. I lived a charmed and noble life. Every second of it. Loved by you my family. Loved by him, even when I ran from his intensity and degradation, when I fought him, when we battled so hard palaces shook. How lucky was I, a life of perfection. I prayed to Nussyn for her bastion of Light that I was so singularly blessed…

And now my brother, whom I trust implicitly offers me the dross removed. Answers to the pain in your eyes, the way Adara shrinks when she thinks I can't see. You offer me the way I died, and all I can think… a man of cruelty and blood bestowed nothing but disciplined joy upon his beloved… and I would not reduce his gift, not when he gives so few of such perfection. Koe is not a man of many affections, nor is he a man of love. This? This is unique, and it is perfect. We cannot break the one good thing in him. We cannot break this.

Through your pain, and admittance this life is better, I know enough. Maybe one day, but not today. Not when all my energy is utterly needed… thank you for staying by my side. I see it cost you more than it cost me. I will repay your loyalty with all I can."

Gunnr hugged Skorvek with enough strength to crack a rib if she weren't careful, and shuddered in his brotherly arms. "… come with me."

Into the crucible they entered, the room glowed with the prismic light flickering off of Raya as she floated in a meditative state beside her father's levitated head. Flanking either side of Kaine Zambrano, the Twins Girak-Kaine and Magnus also hovered, the trio's meditations releasing and cleansing their father's blood. Yet Raya's Light was filtered by Girak-Kaine's neutrality, and emboldened by Magnus' Dark.

"He loves me, Skor'ik. Koe gave me paradise." Gunnr did not recognize the Mando'a endearment she spoke, the knowledge she spoke it was beyond her. Kaine Zambrano was more vulnerable than any moment in his life since the day he was born. The face of the slayer of Mandalore, the Butcher King, was soft, as Gunnr came close his brow unfurled and a visage as close to surrender as the man possessed took hold. "How could I not do everything I can for him? But! I am not naive. Without Darth Carnifex seated in power, Braxus would be a wild and unforgivable force, and we? The children, you, Ahani, all of us, I don't know how to protect all of us without protecting and healing him. I need my husband. I need him like I need breath, and the 9000 souls, they… They're all we know to do without…"

Gunnr reached to take Koe's hand through the miasma of energy, stroked it with her thumb. "… if Pom's ritual does not work, the only other one I found would cost my soul. I would gladly bind my soul to his, to purchase more time and if that time runs out? I would share his fate."

 

[Skorvek]

He nodded as she responded to him was only fair response he was asking her to relearn her old life versus the life she has been given now, how can she say yes to this and risk learning the life she used to have. He followed her to the ante chamber to witness what was there this was the first time he has seen Carnifex so vulnerable and helpless. He was glad he was no the Mandalorian he used to be anymore...others must not know of this or they may storm this place with all their soul and might to try and take their rage on him. He listened to her words with care and knew all to well that Braxus with Carnifex is a terrifying storm waiting for a excuse to be unleashed upon the galaxy and all around him if Carnifex falls..there will be no anchor to stop him.


He even heard what Gunnr Zambrano said she would do if the ritual failed that is why he will ensure it will not fail even if he has to feed the entire Netherworld into Carnifex's own body he will not let it come to the point where Gunnr must bind herself to him fully.


If the ritual fails, There maybe yet another solution then binding your soul to him, It will take a great deal of energy from me but if I must I will find the strongest beasts and demons within the Netherworld and use their strength and power to give Carnifex life again.


Pom Stych Tivé