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Kiskla chuckled humourlessly at their suggestions. The darkside wasn't seductive to her; she'd conquered those demons long ago by learning Vaapad. She despised that part of her, that burden that she was tasked with to keep the balance of The Force alive and contained. If the deity siblings were to break free from her; utter and complete chaos.
In reality, they should be thanking her, not trying to kill her.
There was a cold front amongst the triangle--she'd put enough distance between them all for thought to come back into their actions. They could consider just how foolish rushing her was. The Force nurtured her, it was the very air she breathed and was thicker than the blood that pumped through her veins. Even now, standing there, her core of culminated light threatened to outglow their pitiful shadows. She stood, waiting for their advances, not allowing another transgression to slip from her pouted lips.
Her light eyes, aglow with The Force, drank in the situation and focused on both their silhouettes, gripping both lightsabers firmly. Her expression was placid, threatened only by a faint smirk across the princess' mouth as she nodded to them both, coaxing the Apprentice's lesson to continue.
Although, the Vong staff did intrigue her. She thought that bit of history to be completely eradicated.
@[member="Adamus Straife"] | @[member="Arvis Syphex"]
He would fight her alone, at least for now it seemed. His Master simply continued to fuel his power within the dark side and he started to walk forward slowly at first before he began to gain speed and he formed a force shield over his body, he leapt forward, until he was within ten meters of her and he leapt up into the air with the aide of the Force.
Sending his amphistaff forwards at her in a thrust, the snake's head launched it's venom at her face and at the hands that held the lightsabers. The snake's head continued to bite at her while it got closer, and Arvis's free hand launched a force push at the grounded Jedi Master. "How many Sith have you killed, Jidai? Hmm? How many have you struck down?" He asked while the force push emerged from his hand and flew at her.
To expect that Kiskla was in stasis mode through that entire advancement would be foolish. But for arguments sake, she was, and waited until the Apprentice was airborne. Her eyes followed him, and assumed his attack would mirror one she would have made similarly. As he leapt, she stepped out of range, taking a speedy retreat to the side and narrowly missing the oncoming venom. That thing was crazy and needed to be neutralized, stat!
With the amount of momentum he had gained, the only thing that would have prevented his descent to the ground would be the Force Push he had sent that was meant for her, but instead only separated the ground. Kiskla, lazily, lifted her lower arm to shield her eyes from the oncoming spray of dirt and gravel. She snapped to attention and reached out to his existence, feeling his signature like spell work. Effortlessly, she penetrated his darkness, coupled with his Masters. With little difficulty, she was able to find his core as opposed to the other Sith's interference and she preyed on that.
"Ask me again after today." With a metaphysical, bone crushing squeeze, Kiskla searched out the Apprentice's frayed connections and exposed them. All wounds, all pains fresh or old, were exposed beneath his armour and she dwelled on them, manipulating shatter point to heighten the amount of excruciating pain he would feel before she released him. Mercy stepped in and she cast a wary glance to his serpentine staff. She considered calling out to it, but it appeared the two had already bonded and she would just be taunting mortality too much to get away with it.
She stepped back, shifting her weight to get farther from the snake's face and venom.
He felt the pain. It was excruciating, when he landed he landed in a crouch, though his amphistaff was still in his hands. He thought of taunting her, but what would that achieve? No, he would have to prey on her order. "Oh, yes, the Jedi Order is so high and mighty." He started to rise to his feet, albeit slowly. "Beating back the Sith and striking where it is important. Hmm." He started to rise slowly and he planted the amphistaff in the ground to help him stand up.
"Do you think, that Darth Avara and I, are alive because we are weak?" He was finally on his feet. "No. We are Sith. You, are the ones who are weak. Do you really think the last of the Sith will end like this?" He summoned the Force to him. Her shatterpoint had almost shattered him. But he had been broken a long time ago. He was Sith, and he would not be denied. He fed off of the pain that she had delivered to him. He hungered for it. He grabbed at it, he stuck to it. Like a leech would, once attached to a leg.
"Tell your Order of us. What will that achieve? Nothing! We will be seen, if we want to be seen. We will be heard, at the very HEART, of your Order...Believe it." The grin underneath his mask spread across his face. He was ready. He hurtled a force push at the ground in front of her, throwing up a veil of dirt and grass.
He stepped forwards until they were in range of each other, the amphistaff and her, and then his hand found the blaster pistol around his waist. Through the veil of dirt he fired three bursts at her, before shoving it back into the holster that was hidden by his black robes. All the while, he had long since moved from the location the bolts had come from, and then, within the twenty meter range, the snake's head of the amphistaff launched glob upon glob of venom at her.
He watched his apprentice take the helm with the duel. Perhaps rushing into the battle was a mistake on Darth Avara's part, but those mistakes would be rectified in time. Instead, he essayed to smite the Jedi Master in other, more devious ways. She wore a proud smirk, confident to the point of arrogance; were the Jedi not taught to conquer arrogance? Avara paced side to side, watching his apprentice engage her, watching him taunt her with his every move. The Jedi seemed high and mighty indeed, and the light side in her core shone like a beacon in the darkness; only this darkness was not one that could be put out, it would only consume her. Insatiable, voracious, and impervious to damage, she would be slaughtered as if a lamb.
Avara disignited his lightsaber, placing the hilt upon his utility belt once more. With both hands free, and a glob of venom heading towards the Jedi, the Sith lifted his arms up high and channeled the very strength of his sorcery into his hands; the darkness began to swell, and he focused it upon her mind. A memory walk, they called it; where the victim is forced to relive all of the most painful moments of their life. Avara was proficient in illusions, and torture by chagrin was by far his signature and most favourite of abilities. He cast out the Memory Walk technique to her mind, attempting to hinder her and bring her to her knees. Her mind was strong, but his will and the power of the dark side between him and his apprentice was stronger. They were the Sith Order now. Master and apprentice.
Kiskla made no move to defend herself from the dirt, other than maintain the woven force shield around her body. Terrain sprayed at her, and bits of gravel struck at her with no impact, and merely dropped to her feet. Soresu took over, and sweeping defensive arcs were created by her own cerulean blade; a basket of blue weaving a protective shield to prevent the blasters from scalding her. He was so close though, that this act was rather awkward and with a slight move, one of his blasts skipped across the back of her hand. A yelp of pain released from her diaphragm and she stumbled backward. The shot of plasma had torn through her gloves and exposed flesh and blood now; thankfully it had ripped across her hand rather than right through it. Years of training had at least made her capable of that much. She sucked in a hot breath, biting down on her lip to keep from focusing on the pain as the Apprentice was relentless in his attacks. No time to host a pity party. He was an opportunist, taking advantage of their proximity. His damned snake was active again, and spitting hot, dangerous saliva at her., to which she responded with the same defensive techniques as to the blaster. This time though, she extended her omnipresent use of Art of the Small to attack the poison on a molecular level; touching whatever her blades missed.
With the combination of the heat from the plasma blades, and the molecular dissection, all the globs were decimated; aside from one that slipped through her defences. This particular pool of venom slipped over her hand, the one that had already fallen victim to a blaster burn.
"SON OF A mother karkingMURGLAK." She hollered, recoiling backward even more; her blades spinning with her movements; still maintaining her warrior spirit. Having distanced herself from The Apprentice was good, again, because she was brought to her knees with another yell of pain; this time it was on a level that was beyond her physical discomfort. Her vision of the present was temporarily blinded as her brilliantly blue eyes tightly shut. The heels of her palms slapped against the sides of her head, both blades pointing away from her as they hummed, their wielder grimacing and dropping to her knees. Her attractive features twisted to exhibit the amount of pain she was suffering from as her visions' blackness filled with flashes and images of her history. Thankfully, Kiskla had a resilient personality that refrained from her being connected to fear as an emotion, but a powerful memory, vivid as the Apprentice and Master now, splashed across her mind.
Raxus Prime
Four years ago.
She'd been choking on her own fury the whole way here, stalking with determined incentive. Crime lords were on her docket, and had been for months. The young blonde had to extricate herself from Master Marclonus' care and dedicate herself wholly to answering the threat messages to her father. A transmission she was not to have received, but by chance intercepted. Her focus was not on training anyhow, the entire time visions of distress and immense pain robbed her of sleep and plagued her conscience. She had to do something. Nobody else was. And so, at sixteen the Padawan departed from Naboo and implemented her Kiffar heritage to track the criminals who had taken her family ransom. Up until today, she'd been three steps behind the organization. Finally though, with the air as heavy as lead around her, and the wicked stench attacking her nostrils and stinging her eyes, she was here.
A powerful, rolling blast of energy belched from her hands, knocking the assortment of guards from their feet, scattering them. She was radiating raw energy, completely abandoning the principles Antares had so engrained in her. The only things she was going to implement were the ones useful to her motivation. The shadows were interrupted by a sinister chuckle, and out emerged the hunter. He looked unarmed. But his friends didn't. "We've been expecting you." "Kiskla.." came the soft, shaky voice. Kiskla didn't need to be a Jedi to detect the distress that enveloped her mother. She bolted forward, her face stained with sweat and dirt. The woman now in the teenager's arms looked starved and frail, more delicate than usual. It didn’t matter that she was alive when Kiskla had got to her, there wasn’t much life left in her. She was fading quickly, paling rapidly. The only thing keeping her strong for this long was her connection with The Force. Melosa was everything S'het wasn't. She was nurturing and kind, benevolent and beautiful above all else. And, she never abandoned anybody in need, most unlike her disassociated husband. Kiskla squeezed her with relief, clenching her mum's body close to her own. Melosa was covered with acidic burns, bruises and her own blood. The criminals had not been kind. They had wanted to make their rival pay, and the amount of sweet satisfaction they got from their deviant deeds was nearly as good as if S'het had shown up himself. But he hadn't. His impressive, and non-passive offspring had. A massive wookie ripped Melosa backward, and with no strength she couldn't protest. Kiskla had been so overwhelmingly blinded that she fell forward when the woman she had been clinging to was ripped away.
"But being our guest doesn't mean we're going to give you what you want." The blonde moved to stand, her brows knit furiously and her knuckles white. Everything that composed her internally was shaking, working overtime to keep up with her adrenaline fueled heart rate.
"Then I'll take it."
The adversary's lekku quivered when he chuckled. "Feisty." Then, he gave the signal for the barrage of blaster fire to exterminate the blonde. But, that was predictable and she was ready, weaving her blue blade defensively to deflect the bolts, directing what she could back to those that had fired them. This didn't seem real. They ceased fire, recognizing the uselessness of it. Plus, she'd managed to deflect one right back to a henchman's now smoldering chest. After that, blind was the main descriptive word. Her vision had blurred and instincts took over sense. That's when the wildfire ignited. She burned passionately, lunging at the henchmen with a powerful burst of energy. Pushing them again off their feet and twisting to draw her blade through a torso. And another, all the while parrying beskar blades and blasters. She was blind. Then it was her and the head honcho, him standing tall and muscled, clutching her mother by the neck with his bionic arm. She looked pained, every essence of her was draining. And Kiskla had foolishly and recklessly expended all her energies. His hand was clenching, she could feel the physical pain her mother was in. Melosa didn’t have the strength to pry his fingers from her neck, and Kiskla had entirely drained her sixteen year old self. Almost entirely. It had been a complete fluke, but her blade had whipped from her hands, and spiraled right through the limb of the surprised hunter, who was forced to drop the Padawan’s mother. He stumbled back, his circuits shortening while the girl dashed forward, to her collapsed mother, swooping her arms to cradle the older woman with hot tears stinging the open cuts on her cheeks. Melosa’s mouth was too dry to speak, but she tried. Her beautiful lips curved, trying to gather the strength to advise once more, but instead they broke into a horrified ‘o’ shape when the deadly hum of a vibrosword silenced her finally. Kiskla had been too late, too far behind to save the other members of her family, and now this. Now her mother, limp in her arms. She hadn’t been given time to mourn, because the one-armed hunter brought his blade overhead and slicing downward to the girl, who propelled forward, diving toward him when she heard the devastating sound of the blade meeting her mother’s corpse again. She hollered something, an outcry of anguish and let the blindness take over her again, exacting any means of revenge she could on the murderous, vengeful hunter.
Katarr
Present Day
The memory receded, and she broke through the hold The Sith had on her; a slight whimper tumbling from her lips at the uncovering of a memory she'd long since fought to bury. Her knuckles slammed into the ground, and her entire, skinny body shuddered. Between the poison, and the dark magics at work, Kiskla had enough to feed Son on a level beyond what Vaapad could offer.
The Sith Knight's internal speculations about her being different were true. Why? Because balance; she was the house to both the light and the dark.
Balance /'baləns/ noun; a condition in which different elements are equal or in the correct proportions verb; offset to compare the value of (one thing) with another.
With the amount of darkness in the air, Son ravenously used it to fuel him. He consumed it, sucking it into himself and leaving little available for the Sith's use. It was similar to as if he was draining the Force from them, but in truth, he was really just robbing the availability of darkness in order to fuel his warden rather than those that manipulated it against her. As much as he was against the light, he was still under the instruction of the blonde Mistress of the Force; and owed her servitude in order to remain alive. Remember how I said they should have been thanking her, rather than trying to kill her? Well their lack of gratitude was turning on them. Manners matter!
Brilliant blue eyes, aglow with The Force snapped open as the Master requested the breath of The Force once more. Particles of the light swarmed to her, dancing about excitedly as more and more grouped within and about her. There was a feeling of serenity in the air before what happened next (and perhaps confusion, considering the dissipated darkness).
Pure light exploded from Kiskla's lithe body, aiming directly at both other Force Users in radiant and controlled beams. Her exposed flesh began to glow with the planet's life force, and the burn on her hand also began to glow. Shadows cast from pebbles receded, the overhead clouds rolled away, and more importantly, the malevolence of the darkness from the Sith before her was being blasted by the light. Her lightsabers disengaged and automatically floated by her side as she stood, extending both hands to ultimately control the blasts toward both Sith. This amount of Force light could not have been summoned by herself, but once more, a sibling was involved. Daughter's own impressive presence was involved in the outpour of raw, lightside energy; making it a light, radiant blue. This blue blast was to rid them, albeit temporarily, of their darkside connections which would give Kiskla enough time to vacate the planet.
Hopefully, considering she'd need to see a healer immediately about that vong venom.
He watched as she had fled from him. By that time the veil of dirt and gravel had already settled, but then he felt the pain of the memories that the Jedi Master felt. He fed upon it...But then just as soon as he had started to feed upon the power of the dark side it disappeared...Maybe not disappeared but it was being sapped from the area.
And then there was a light that was coming from her and she stood. He wouldn't be fazed from the power of the force light. He planted the amphistaff in the ground, though he still held on to it. He continued to call upon the power of the dark side that was present in the planet. In the planet that had been devastated by the Sith Lord Darth Nihilus with naught but a few words. He felt the death of the Jedi who were upon the planet, the death of the millions of beings that were upon the planet.
No matter what the single Jedi Master did with her allies, the dark side would be present on the planet for a little longer. He began to lend his power to his Master and vice versa, already starting to cast the Force around them to protect them from the beams of light that came from the Jedi Master.
A blue light began to form over the both of the Sith Lords. With their power together, Darth Naefas slowly retreated until he was with his Master again and the bubbles began to overlap to strengthen each other even more. Due to the power of the dark side being sapped from what was apparently the planet itself, Darth naefas began to take his own strength to continue to fuel the protection bubble that was forming over them.
He had seen the venom from the amphistaff that had gotten to the Jedi's hand long before. He was smiling now, she couldn't continue to hold the force light on forever, the amphistaff's venom no doubt already reached her bloodstream, and it would be killing her at the same time if she didn't leave and seek medical attention.
But that was fine, let her die. He stepped forward in step with his Master so that they could eventually get to her. And possibly envelop herself in it.
The torture by chagrin had seemed to work, he delved into her memories, bringing them all to life; though she was resilient, there was one memory she could not escape. Darth Avara let that one flourish within her mind in all of its glory, and he fed upon her pain, her anguish, and her inner darkness. Avara could feel himself winning over, invading her mind and exposing her to her deepest fears; but as sure as victory was, it was taken from him within a flash. The Jedi Master forced him out, and he reeled back as a sharp pain rang through his head. As he came to, he sensed a malevolence within the Jedi Master, uncommon within others of her order. It made Avara nervous, but he steeled himself for what was to come.
She released some form of power, something indescribable, but powerful in its own right; far more powerful than his apprentice and him, and even the Jedi Master that wielded it. This power was not of her design, but she could somehow control it, focus it into her techniques. She released her potency in the form of a blindingly powerful ray of light. The Sith Lord panicked, but his apprentice had it in mind that a bubble of safety would keep her at bay. He was right, in some aspects. Alone, he would be eviscerated, but together they would be able to survive.
He drew on the power of the dark side within himself, and a blue light shone over them both; master and apprentice. Combining their strength, their protection bubbles overlapped, becoming not one layer of the Force, but two. The rays of light that shot out bounced across the sky from the bubble, refracting across the sky and impairing the Sith Lord's vision. He remained focus - he would not allow this Jedi to achieve victory through mysterious trickery and hidden powers. Darth Avara had many of his own, and he would use them to full effect.
As the venom that splashed against her body began to take effect, Darth Avara and his apprentice poured their malice and cruelty into their protection bubbles. Together, they pushed forth into a heavy pace, and with their strength combined they released the expanded sphere of energy outward like a freight train. The Force cascaded along the ground, tearing asunder the earth beneath it, steam rolling toward the Jedi Master with malicious intent. He felt the heavy toll of exhaustion beginning to weigh upon his body, but the pain was a welcome sight. He fed upon it, and forced himself to stay upon his feet. It was that, or death.
It was strange that a power that was meant to consume darkness hadn't taken effect when the two Sith embraced their darkness. Maybe she was slipping. Either way, Kiskla knew that her back was against the wall; no matter how tired they might have been, she had poison coursing through her veins and she needed a way out.
Her power of light was at it's culmination, and with a slight 'oof' a WHOOOOMP of light burst from her palms, radiating brilliantly toward the two; hungry and starved ready to consume their dark prowess like a meal.
Kiskla closed her palms as she ran, snatching the two lightsabers and darting toward her Cruiser, one that had been unaffected by her telekinetic blast earlier. It had also gone unattacked, somehow.
Skidding, and nearly missing the gangramp, Kiskla recovered and darted up and into the airlock, sealing the door behind her as she moved through the passenger vehicle and into the cockpit. She'd had it on standby, since she'd only landed here to meditate, not be attacked. Instantly, the ship was active and hovering above the ground. She waited for it to gather enough energy to dash to the coordinates she punched in; where the Healer's Circle was located, run by @[member="Rianna Organa"]. She was remotely frantic, and feeling all too warm. Her hours were numbered, and she knew it as she settled into her seat, deeply focusing on nothing but the flow of her own blood, and using the Art of the Small to dissect whatever had been infected her stream.
He felt the wave of the dark side encompass him, shattering his barrier and sending him cascading to the floor. Temporarily, his connection to the dark side was weakened by her light. He felt his hands go numb, and he became disoriented. As if someone had struck a head blow and nearly knocked him out. When he came to, the Jedi Master was running away. He smiled, knowing she was fleeing due to the amphistaff poison within her system. He doubted it would kill, but if she didn't get to a healer in time, then she would be as good as.
He watched her board the ship via the gangramp, lifting his hand up with his lightsaber within his palm. "COWARD!" He bellowed at the top of his voice. "I WILL FIND YOU!" He let the anger travel out of his voice, a loud bark shaped and manipulated by the Force. He would make sure she heard it before she left. Her ship sailed into the sky, hovering from the dirt and soaring through the upper atmosphere, becoming a mere blink in the eye of Darth Avara. She had escaped him, but he would find her again; he would discover her hidden power; and most of all, her name.
