Shielded Secrets

[UserSpace103]

P A N A T H A
V A I N H A L L O W C I T A D E L


A hooded figure, face shrouded in darkness, moved across the elaborate flooring with an ominous grace. Tall, slim, all but her lips were hidden under her hood. Her midriff was exposed, and her legs moved fluidly towards their common goal; she had a sway in her walk. The clicking of her heels matched every step and suddenly it all fell silent when her steps came to a stop. Two guards cut her off, and no words were spoken from either party. From below, in the reflection of the flooring her red eyes glimmered and she reached up to pull back on her hood.

Pale, purple flesh. Eyes bouncing from one side of the room to the next. Her mouth parted for words, but her voice seemed like it had another voice under it, and another voice under that one. Echoes almost; Sinister.

"I have come to see the King of this reach...the god himself."

She had been trying for such a long time to get this audience, her security depended on it, and so did some of her current goals. For what she wanted to do...she needed to align herself with those who could provide her with what she needed. This man, or being had it all and then some. All she wanted was to serve at his feet...to be his servant. All she sought? Was protection...security.

She had repeated this message to many guards before this group, and so when they seemingly began to let up she fell into her walk again. The clicking began, and so did the echoes throughout the hall. There was a sway in her step; fearless. What else did she have to lose...

This was the last step, and when she was granted entrance she would continue for a few feet and then fall to a knee. Her cloak spilling over and covered the floor just beneath her. She would fall into silence, hoping to be addressed by the void she felt pulsing in front of her. It wouldn't be her place to speak first.


[member="Darth Carnifex"]

 

[Darth Carnifex]

Guards in steel gray armor pulled aside the great iron door of the throne room, an overwhelming sense of oppression and tyranny rushing out to stain the halls. Neither said anything as they ushered in the pale woman, and once she had passed the threshold they turned right back and around and pulled the door closed behind them. Before her was an Imperialistic room with high ceilings, slanted walls, and a high-back chair and angular desk raised upon a six-stepped dais with a great wall of ornate green glass behind it.

In the chair sat the man that [member="Syndra Duskmere"] was so desperately searching for.

Even in the custom built chair he seemed to be too large for it, his muscular frame cutting an imposing picture even while sitting. The light pouring in past the glass behind him bathed all of his surroundings in an eerie green light. On either side of the dais stood two imposing Imperial Sentinels, their seven-and-a-half foot tall bodies clad in black heavy battle armor shrouded by reddish-purple cloaks emblazoned with intricate gold patterns at the chest, back, and shoulders. They wore large helmets that concealed both the head and neck, leaving only their glowing red eyes visible.

The whole room radiated with the power of the Dark Side. No hope, no light, no salvation.

The Dark Lord waited a minute or two, embroiled in something on his desk, before he finally turned his attention to the new arrival kneeling before him. "Quite audacious of you, girl, to walk willingly into the dragon's jaws. You must think yourself mighty important to occupy my personal time, so let's hear it. Tell me why I shouldn't vaporize you on the spot."

 

[UserSpace103]

A breath, a long drawn exhale.

Her figure twitched under the material that made up her cloak. Then from her position, her eyes would rise and their gaze would fall on everything in front of her. The void in the room seemed...comforting; she was getting use to it more and more. Her insides boiled, she wasn't nervous but it was a sort of excitement that made her completely intrigued with this situation. The god himself spoke...and his voice caused a shiver to jolt through her body.

"Forgive me..." her voice started at a whisper, "I would never think so highly of myself to be ever so important to waste your precious time." she lowered her head and then she looked back up but trying not to meet his gaze.

"I come with an offering my lord. Every god needs subjects...you have many, but none such as me." She then met his gaze with her own, it was brief, but then it fell back to the floor. "If you will allow it, I wish to serve you. Whatever you would have me do...I wish to do it, faithfully, in your name and for your glory."

"I wish to pledge myself to you..."

Her head fell low, and her words simmered out as she looked down.

[member="Darth Carnifex"]

 

[Darth Carnifex]

The Dark Lord rose, his form even more imposing now that he was standing to his full height, and rounded the table to stand atop the dais stairs. His muscular body was cloaked in a shroud of cloth the color and hue of freshly spilt blood, his face partially obscured by the hood that was drawn up over it except for the smoldering embers of his molten eyes that bore down upon [member="Syndra Duskmere"] with intense scrutiny.

Being such an infamous figure throughout the galaxy had made the man cautious, especially when an uninvited and unannounced guest strolled up into his private quarters and begged to be included among his vast legions of servants and worshipers.

Still, he sensed the potential that she may yet possess. Her form intrigued him as well, her skin was a light pale purple like that of a corpse, and she stunk of the Dark Side much like he did but in a vastly inferior manner. He descended the steps to stand directly before her, his stature dwarfing hers even if she wasn't kneeling, and he gestured with his hand. "Stand and reveal yourself to me, I would truly look upon the one who so easily pledges themself to my service."

 

[UserSpace103]

From facing the floor she could feel his gaze on her. Just as she looked into her own reflection she was reminded of why she had to do this...a quick shutter of the eye followed just as she heard his footsteps and saw that he was descending the steps and walking towards her. She shuffled in her position, re-aligning herself in a manner to which it showed respect. He requested she stand, and her head shot up and she did nothing for a moment as his stature took her by surprise.

She slowly stood to her feet, raising her hands to the sides of her face and gripping the edges of her hood. Before long the dim lighting from above hit her entire face as she pulled the hood back, it took away the emphasis on her crimson eyes and highlighted her pale, purple skin well. Her hair, blonde, fell and laid across her chest.

She refused to look him directly in his eyes, so she stood firm and looked forward. "Does my appearance displease you God-King?"

It could have been lucky for her that her corruption hadn't forced her to stray too far from her original appearance; it could have been far worse. One would definitely be able to tell she was something akin to Sephi...or perhaps just near-human.

[member="Darth Carnifex"]

 

[Darth Carnifex]

He reached out and gently cupped her chin, angling her head this way and that way to get a better look at both sides of her facial features. His mere touch could elicit feelings of nausea and revulsion, even through his gloved fingers, so mighty and vile the darkness that stirred deep in his black soul was. He was a living, breathing, walking personification of the Dark Side's corruption, an avatar of malice that was completely in sync with the Dark Side of the Force that flowed uninhibited through his physical form.

"No, not at all." In truth she was still beautiful even with her corpse-like pallor, her features were well-sculpted and could easily turn the heads of lesser men. Kaine, however; was the farthest thing from a lesser men, and while he occasionally partook in the sins of the flesh he found no pleasure from such trivial things anymore. His sense of pleasure had long since eroded away along with his humanity, and now he only found jovial bliss in the pitted heat of grueling war. He was not completely heartless, however; as he placed a certain significance on his immediate family and often sheltered them from danger and lauded upon them great riches and prestigious titles of power.

The thin line of his mouth drew down in a frown, "What made you this way, girl? Enlighten me of your genesis."

[member="Syndra Duskmere"]​

 

[UserSpace103]

She took a breath in just as he reached and gripped her face. Unexpected, she assumed his touch would be of the rough variety. However, despite being a conduit for all things dark...he examined her facial features quite intimately. Whenever his moved his hand, her head moved along and deep inside she felt her stomach churn but she didn't reject it. He wondered about her appearance...she glanced a look on his figure in full before turning back to stare at whatever she could in order to keep her looks from being a sign of disrespect.

"I was once Sephi...but treachery and corruption led to my transformation. The taint of the Dark Side turned me into an abomination my lord."

She figured he of all people would know what sort of powers led to this, if she were to serve she even hoped to learn more about it. She could only go off what she knew...and she was still in the process of figuring that out. "The Monarch' on Thustra saw it fitting to expand their reach onto Null. Thus the Valyrr Imperium was formed...but deep within its bowels was a taint, a corruption. Destruction from within came, the entire Empire came crumbling down. I am what remains...this was my curse. Now I only seek to serve you."

[member="Darth Carnifex"]

 

[Darth Carnifex]

He listened intently. Not a word of interruption was uttered by the Dark Lord as he paced slowly around the fey-like woman as she regaled her origins to him, his hands clasped behind his back once he had took his fill of feeling her delicate facial features. Her tale was not unlike those of the many others he had collected in the years before and after his ascension to Sith-hood, the broken and discarded often flocked to men like him seeking guidance and a sense of belonging. He put them to good use, turned the things that society spurned them for into their source of empowerment, a wellspring from which to deeply drink the inky waters of the Dark Side.

When her recollection came to its end he stopped his circling prowl and placed a comforting hand upon her shoulder. "You bear no curse. The flesh that caresses your spirit is the greatest boon you will have ever received, for it is a form born from the Dark Side of the Force. Every cell in your body cries out for its nourishment and I will slake its hunger."

The air grew heavy and thick, discharges of energy lancing through the air with blinding flashes of incandescent light. Power reverberated through the Dark Lord's body, dark steam billowing out from his being to pour into [member="Syndra Duskmere"]'s body filling it with both indescribable pain and pleasure as the darkness within engorged itself on the raw energy being channeled into it. After a moment, or was it an eternity, the Dark Lord removed his hand from her shoulder and cut off the supply of power.

 

[UserSpace103]

He reassured her that she was no victim of a curse, that is when he stole her gaze. She looked upon his massive form just as he hand came to rest on her shoulder. Just as she parted her lips to speak on what he said, she felt a sudden shock of pain shoot through her shoulder and her stomach grew heavily as the air around her grew thick as if to suffocate. Despite the crimson color of her eyes, the sparks from the lightning conjured up could be seen just as the pain began to course through the entirety of her body.

Pain. It was painful...but deep down it was a beautiful feeling. She began to enjoy herself, as her body took the energy as nourishment. It was almost like a drug...she wanted more and then suddenly it ceased. Her head shot up, her breathing was fast, she saw him withdrawing his hand from her person.

"I'll do whatever it is you wish...my life for yours." she spoke those words with barely any breath. "I'll conquer the galaxy in your name..." came much after she got her breath back.

First she would get her revenge, gain more power, and then she would carry his banner. "What are your orders?"

[member="Darth Carnifex"]

 

[Darth Carnifex]

He knelt down before her, his hand reaching out to caress her jaw and chin. "I have a task in mind for you, my child. I want you to return to Thustra and collect those of your former kind, they will serve you as a new generation of dark warriors molded by my guiding hand."

He rose then, letting the tips of his fingers run along the flesh of her face as he moved away. A hooded servant emerged from the darkness carrying a dagger atop a pillow of purple fabric, which the Dark Lord took in his right hand and held it up so Syndra could see it. "But first I must bless you with my mark, your flesh must taste the blade's kiss and be adorned with my greatness. For that you must disrobe and leave yourself unveiled so that I may begin the ritual."

This was not uncommon for those who served under his banner, there were just as many males as females who held the Butcher King's titular scarification across their entire bodies. An insidious webwork of markings and runes wrought from the language of the ancient Sith that firmly marked one as the property of the Dark Lord of the Sith.

[member="Syndra Duskmere"]​

 

[UserSpace103]

His hand would run across the length of her chin, and as so her gaze would rise and fall on his figure. She would accept her mission without a thought, it had already been apart of her plan. She felt the need for the monarchs to burn...and she would find a way to interweave that into the plan he laid out for her. Slowly, her head rocked forward and then back as she agreed in silence first.

"As you wish..." she said softly, while he withdrew his hand, snatching up her attention as he rose back into his greatness.

From her peripherals she saw the dark hooded figure fade into the light with an offering for their king. She would now obtain his mark...and she didn't falter at the thought. In fact she wanted it more than anything. She rose to her feet with her hands working to remove her cloak. Once that fell from her body, she worked to undo her cuirass. This was some sort of twisted fantasy reverie, amongst other things it was her finding a new purpose. She welcomed everything he would bestow.

"I open myself to you..." her hair at this point had fallen to its natural length since the removing of her cloak. She removed the other articles of her attire in order to prepare for the ritual.

All she could see in her minds eye was fire...

[member="Darth Carnifex"]

 

[Darth Carnifex]

He looked over her naked form having seen many others before it, both male and female, relinquish themselves before him to bear his villainous mark. Again, he noted her beauty. She would serve him well in that regard, for many in the galaxy could be swayed by toned and succulent flesh.

But not he, he had risen above such things long ago.

He approached and took stock of her form first, taking deliberation on where to begin the first cut that would serve as the genesis to the mark. He knelt down and examined her midriff, one of the only areas she had deigned to expose even before he ordered her to undress. He raised his knife and began to slowly carve a spiraling Sith rune orbiting the indent of her navel that would continuously expand outward the further and further he expanded the symbol. The mons pubis was not spared neither, his blade cutting into that fatty flesh just as it would cut into her thigh or stomach. He never took too long on any one segment of her body, always ensuring that it was fully marked before moving on.

After thirty minutes the entire lower half of her body would be marred by bleeding cuts, the marble beneath her feet stained with pooling crimson. The Dark Lord was not yet done either and he stood to grasp her breasts and carve unique patterns there as well, each nick of his blade causing a new river of blood to trickle down Syndra's perfectly toned body. Her arms, shoulders, and upper back was also gifted with the symbols of the ancient Sith along with the Dark Lord's personal runes. The last place that he would touch would be her face, and it was there that the Dark Lord applied only minor ornamentation. He would carve intricate lines of runes directly beneath the eyes and a symbol not unlike the one that was tattooed on his own forehead onto hers as well.

After a little over an hour of intense and constant scarification, the ritual was at last completed. The Dark Lord moved away from Syndra and ordered a mirror to be brought in so she could bear witness to his handiwork. He did nothing to wipe his blade clean of her blood, but instead handed it off to another servant so it would be taken and secured deeper within the castle for later use. "Behold now, you wear my greatness."

[member="Syndra Duskmere"]​

 

[UserSpace103]

The fire was how she wished to see Monarchs and their kingdom on Thustra. It was a symbol of the whirlwind she wished to unleash upon them, she'd get there soon.

She had no quarrels at all with exposing her flesh before the King, she'd make such decisions in a heartbeat if it meant exposure to his power and grace. She felt the cool tip of the blade after the sting of his gaze subsided. Then, their was moisture upon her toes, a growing puddle between her feet. Blood.

The intricate motion of the blade cutting through the surface of her skin was in some ways refreshing. Though before long the pain had subsided, her mind had twisted it all up, making her think she was receiving a gift of some sort.

Blink. Another. The flutter of her eyelashes began to match the pace at which the blood dripped from her person. Once the Dark Lord began, it all flowed in one continuous motion. Her lower body had become adorned with symbolic trails of blood; she didn't feel a thing.

He filled his hands with her flesh, out of respect she tried not to make eye contact with him, should she step beyond her station and interrupt the process of the ritual. "You bless me with your mark my Lord..." her voice started at a whisper, backed by slight echo.

In what seemed like a few minutes, she had been covered from head to toe in rivers of blood that flowed through intricate and ancient trails. Suddenly, her reflection had appeared before her. Just then...she had become intrigued with her appearance, more so the patterns. She scowled and looked away before her ears became full with Kaine' voice.

"I am grateful for you blessings." She turned and kneeled before him. "I will not fail you."

[member="Darth Carnifex"]

 

[Darth Carnifex]

"Be sure that you do not, I have little tolerance for failure."

The Dark Lord bid her rise and redress, the mirror taken back to whence it was retrieved by the hooded servants that milled about in the darkened corners of the throne chamber. He climbed the steps of the dais holding his throne, and took his seat upon it. "Now go, my huntress. Return to your homeworld and shepherd those who would serve me well. From them I would make an army of rangers, armed with the power of the dark side. And you shall lead them in battle."

The door that she had first entered through when she arrived at the throne room was opened again, a small cadre of soldiers waiting to escort her to the landing pad where whatever vessel she had arrived in had been taken and impounded only to be replaced by a ship specifically for her mission to Thustra.

It would serve her, and her new master, well.

[member="Syndra Duskmere"]​