Private Spat From The Nether

[Saer Lorian]

Years ago the galaxy as a whole was thrown into chaos. Millions going missing in the blink of an eye. The resolution of that event closed that yawning maw that had gobbled people. One such soul that got dragged through as that maw closed found himself in a place that made no sense. Not where those that had gone missing, oh no. This place that was between was a whole other beast.

In a way it was a realm of its own, the living and the dead were sometimes one in the same. Beasts that had never been alive wearing the face of a friend. Nightmares incarnate. And somehow it also mirrored the Galaxy all at the same time.

It is here a man once Serian Loria grappled with the improbably impossible. Losing himself, fighting himself, fighting things that sought to devour him. Spirits. He had even grappled with something that had claimed to be a god. Except his victory saw him losing chunks of himself in the process. Saerinn had been a creature who had once been worshiped and fed by its followers. Their loss turned him into a vengeful thing only to be put down by a mortal soul that was more fragment than soul.

To save himself he had to become like the creatures around him. He devoured this Being. The rebirth of sorts didn’t see him becoming a god or Other, he was still a man, but he found the slippage and fragmentation stopping. He had memories of his life as Serian Loria, well, mostly memories of people. He just wasn’t Serian Loria, that man… Had in a large sense, died within this strange spirit-scape. Saer Lorian took his place. Lesser spirits sustained him, but he largely subsisted on absorbing things that managed to slip into this space. From where? It was hard to say. There was a place that was walled off, that small things managed to slip free of.

He assumed some kind of prison, for he sensed bigger and more dangerous things clawing at the restraint. Not really the kind of thing he wanted to poke at truth be told. No. He needed free of this realm. He did not belong here, he knew that much. The how, however, eluded him.

He sensed other lives that were like himself, people who walked these twisting paths. Yet he dared not allow himself to be seen, some sense that he would be seen as something that needed putting down. It filled him with rage of course, but what could he do? It was almost an eternity later, well, hard to say in a place that held no time that something ripped through with enough force to drag what shouldn’t be let free into the world he once walked.

And it spat him out into a battlefield. Weak, he managed to do what gnawed at him, he hid. What could he do? He had spent so long in a place where anything was possible, only to land right back into a plane that had limitations. He remembered lessons to harness power in this place, but he had had barely any energy to crawl to where he took shelter.

When he woke next, he was in a hospital with other ‘survivors’. In the days following he had to learn to use flesh and blood again. To be flesh and blood again. It didn’t help that some of the healers treating those with wounds from this taint looked at him strangely. Something told him these knew that he had been a ‘creature’ freed of the Nether. Except he had been a man, once and hadn’t gone to that realm like other spirits. He was simply returning to what he’d been, even if in a way he was born again.

This Solanaceae. Something about them teased a fragment of memory, but so much was lost in his time in the Nether that he didn’t bother to try and grasp it. Witches. He eventually learned. However once he could sit up, move, he was pitched from the bed and told to leave. So be it. The Confederacy, a name that was familiar, once in his other life he had been in this place. A student of his, one Abel Denko came to mind. Fragments, but he could barely fit it all in place now.

Tempted as he was to see if the man still lived, he chose not. Call it pride or call it shame, he had to make a new life for himself. So he took himself away, traveling the old paths of memory to relearn and control his Force affinity. A painful process, but necessary. At least he hadn’t forgotten this like so much else that hadn’t been so lucky.

His eventual return to the CIS saw him taking odd jobs. Old memory of a man who had been above such things had taunted him. However a man such as himself had no such wealth or security. One thing did remain true however, he was not cut out for labor. He did catch whiff of a woman who made him wary. This Nightmother Vytal Noctura who he had felt once or twice in the Nether. Nothing like her underlings and he worried she might be hunting him. So he hid his essence as best he could, just trying to get a roof over his head.

Eventually he landed a job in a shop that sold perfumes, oils, lotions and the like. At least his sense of smell was useful here and it paid well. The owner didn’t like him much, but he kept his head own and worked, eventually landing an apartment. When the business opened a new shop, he went to Naboo. He liked the age of this place, the scent of the ocean and above all? It was frankly cheaper to live here.

It was a new start, in a new place and that was what he needed. He couldn’t recall if he’d ever been to this world, but who cared? The crowning of a new queen had been a lively event. And he took it as a good sign.

 

[Vytal Noctura]

"You let him leave?" The Nightmother's green eyes bore into each of the women and men that were unfortunate enough to be standing in the immediate area. It had not been one person's mistake. It had been many. Even those that should not have known better.

Before they began to spin a tale, the pale woman's eyes narrowed and she cut through their words asking, "Which room? Which room was he in?"

Teeth clenched together not out of anger, but pain and the determination to propel her body despite the exhaustion, the Witch turned toward the room they indicated. She stalked over to it careful in her step to not to collapse while they watched; yet unwilling to let another moment by without knowing. All manner of foul creatures might have slip through the crack. Was the terror and damage inflicted by the torn veil not enough to tell them of these things?

They hadn't room to treat the injured and dying. Yes, Vytal knew what they would say. How many places had been consumed in the chaos. They hadn't time to think about the consequences or the importance of what had happened or their actions. Monstrous beasts and spectral visages were not the worst of what might have appeared -- merely the most evident and easily dispatched.

Too much time had passed since the breach to think the creature would linger near. So, the Nightmother worked with the only thing at her disposal -- the room in which he'd stayed. Prayerfully there would still be the thinnest of threads left of their passing. An echo to follow, or the faintest knowing should they cross again. A sharp grunt followed the blood letting to conjure the powers to peel back time and lift up the traces of those that had been there in recent times.

Fortunately, whatever it was had a distinct signature that was not so easily buried among all the other souls that passed through here. It seemed the spirits were not forthcoming in identifying the location of this man, however. No "short cut." That was fine. In the time it would take to track him down the Nightmother would have conversations with her spiritual partners to reassert old ties. They'd not been there when they were needed most; too conflicted about whether the Natural Order should be preserved or if they should exploit it for themselves. A Witch did not need the greatest source of power to evaporate when it was needed most. She had thought most of the spirits understood the importance of the Balance. Perhaps she needed to pointedly reaffirm it.

Some time later, the Nightmother strode down to the surface of Naboo from one of the Solanaceae's vessels. There was even more reason not to needlessly venture through the Nether seeing how many dark spirits she'd angered in sealing the breach. Fear? No. Prudence. When one stalked prey, you studied them and their environment for the opportune place and time to strike. It was no different with spiritual beasts than it was living ones. Once Vytal found the right one, a powerful and well-regarded one she would strike; and all the lesser spirits would reassess their desire to be disperse. At the very least there'd be fewer spirits apt to assail her in unison, and some semblance of Order would be restored.

"Nightmother Noctura, welcome back to Naboo. Your chambers are ready, as always. How are repairs on the Academy progressing?"

Vytal spared a look over to an attendant that often ensured arriving dignitaries -- especially those of station in the Confederate command -- well taken care of, and to arrange for whatever they needed. Meetings, supplies, information. She suspected Shadowfeed had a few of them in their employ. Not that the Intelligence group would care to admit it. Internal security was supposed to be Knight business, after all. "They are progressing," the pale woman replied with resolve. It would take some time still to ensure the structural integrity and clean-up from the... affair. "Are there any new shops in the city?"

"Hmm, yes, quite a few, though I hear the expansion is being carefully managed. Naboo wouldn't want to lose itself, after all."

"One with ingredients for concoctions, then?" Vytal lifted a brow as one eye regarded the man.

"Perhaps. I'll give you directions, if it please the Nightmother."

Tag: Saer Lorian

 

[Saer Lorian]

The small apartment was going to take some getting used to. The feeling of strange lives pressed around him, the sounds of the city. He didn’t like it. Everything was too close, too loud and all the other sensory input was just… Stressful. He had discovered through the weeks how it was that his circumstances had changed. Energy was the most sustaining and, blessedly, the crowded capitol that was Theed had ample places where he could find it. Lives, those afforded the best, but he’d rather sup on raw energy than people.

The memory of that first discovery was still very unpleasant. Even if there was some good to it. He spent the hours he wasn’t doing what he needed either working to pay rent or just getting what he was missing, meditating. Mainly because he was slowly managing to remember things, mostly how to grasp those skills of his former life. There were more unpleasant things, like Saerinn’s memories as well. Rituals it had observed, people who had been necessary, all of it wholly strange.

Not much of it was even useful, which added to the annoyance. Eventually it was time to head to the shop and once there, carefully help with preparations for making the host of things that the shop sold. Of course his job wasn’t the careful tending of the plants, but cutting, cooking and displaying the wares. Apprentice work, but at least he had some ability with mixing and the cooking. It wasn’t unlike say, making paints or preparing mixtures for things he had hazy memory of.

At least here the shop was strangely quiet. Not much from the outside intruded and it was welcome given how noisy things were. He finished the last of the trimming and set it in the water when he heard his name being called. A blonde woman slipped up the stairs to look down her nose at him. “We have a customer, I don’t want to do it, so you might as well. Get down there and take care of it.”

Roshya, the laziest chit he could recall ever seeing. She wasn’t that much newer than him, but liked to boss him around. He put up with it, despite the annoyance, what was the point of making things more difficult? As he cleared the stairs and turned, he found himself staring at a woman that set his heart to racing. Not with anything good, no, this woman he’d seen a time or two as he was recovering in the triage set to deal with the tragedy on Geonosis.

She had made his instinct scream to ‘run’ then as badly as now and this time? This time he was well and truly trapped. He took a deep breath, put a pleasant expression on his face and walked over. His tone was low, only she would hear. “Let's take this somewhere private, please?” Then louder. “How may I help you miss?”

Because after that Roshya’s footsteps drifted off and he knew she was no longer watching to see if he did as told. He then motioned towards the back, then moved to go out into the alley. At the very least they weren’t likely to be disturbed, bad part was? He had a feeling he was going to have trouble.

What the Nightmother would see was a man of a bit over average height, an even six foot. Lean athletic build who was dark of hair and eyes. The suit he wore was clearly uniform and frankly if it wasn’t for the dark inky pools that were his eyes, there wasn’t anything much to stand out, unless you counted his accent. He was handsome, aristocratic features, straight posture and graceful movement. His accent was old imperial, some places in former Imperial held territory still had that old world touch. Crisp, clean and precise, yet pleasing to the ears.

His expression was resigned, but otherwise unreadable for he hid his emotions well. Even his body language was controlled. He kept his hands where she could see them and just waited on her to do or say whatever it was she intended. He didn’t act like a threat at all. He faced her head on, but not in an aggressive manner. She might get the sense he was expecting trouble from her, which was true, he was. He doubted the fact she was here was a coincidence.

Vytal Noctura

 

[Vytal Noctura]

The pale woman strode through the doorway of the store with her green eyes scanning its interior. A decently organized, well-kept interior with the molded architecture meshed with modern accents of Naboo evident along the perimeter and in the overhead ceiling. Most of it would probably not be considered material that a Witch would care for in alchemical or mystical research. Perfumes and oils almost exclusive intended for personal use only. However there were a few items that might be useful. A new store was always worth a look in the event they had something rare, unique, or not seen anywhere else. It was a large galaxy and stores were always competing with one another so you could never tell what they'd get their hands on.

A woman was seen in the back but briefly before they vanished. Perhaps they were occupied with inventory or other tasks. Or perhaps they didn't want to deal with a pale woman with tattoos, which a discerning mind would know for a Nightsister -- and a less discerning one a Rattataki. Whatever the case may be, Vytal occupied herself for a time stolling about examining the wares for sale.

There was always much to do, but a soul must take some time for a casual stroll lest the stress and anxiety strain them. It wasn't too long before the sound of another descending could be heard, or perhaps it was the woman -- but it would turn out the former was the truth. The Witch turned in place to fix the man with her eyes before her head rotated a few scant degrees at his appearance.

She made no movement nor said a thing as the man seemed to draw closer and then speak his true desire softly. A strange turn of events, but she saw no reason yet to dissent nor cause a 'commotion.' Unless he tried to run. A Nightsister had two modes -- warn off, and capture or kill. Warn off wasn't on the table.

Soon enough a slight raising of a brow followed the man motioning toward the back. Perhaps it was best to conduct this outside in the event things became... animated. No reason to ruin a perfectly fine if not altogether useful store.

Vytal stood still for a moment as the two faced one another in the alleyway. It hardly seemed necessary to rush the moment; the man seemed content to wait for her to say something. Or do something. A curious situation which she had not anticipated especially on a chance encounter.

"You know why I'm here." The Nightmother paused for a few seconds to let the man contemplate what she meant if it hadn't by some means already crossed his mind. "Your restraint and ability to blend in is impressive. But many perished because of a careless act that could have torn our worlds apart. I'm not partial to allowing entities of the Nether cross over."

Tag: Saer Lorian

 

[Saer Lorian]

The dark eyed man regarded her, crossing his arms and tilting his head as she spoke. “Your assumption that I am wholly a creature of the Nether is incorrect. I survived the Nether, I did not reside there originally. My memories are bare fragments, but I was a man of this realm who fell into that place by accident. By defeating and absorbing another entity, more later on, I managed to eeke a pathetic existence and cling to life. Truth be told, had that event not freed me, I may well have been stuck there and eventually become the very thing you accuse me of. I am no more pleased about how I have changed than you are of my existence. However, aside from a single mishap that saw me defending my life… I have killed no one else.”

He looked at the shop with scorn. “Believe me when I tell you my current circumstances are less than ideal. I have barely any time to take stock of the changes about myself and study them. I understand that you cannot simply let me go free… I could make a long detailed list of why you’d need not bother watching me, but I am relatively sure that I would be wasting my breath. So. I have a proposal…” He shifted running a hand through his hair. “Allow me to prove myself by living within your sight and give me work that suits my talents. This way I can earn your regard, income and above all? Learn my new limitations in an environment that is conducive to allowing me to do so.”

Because as it stood now, his ignorance was steadily becoming intolerable. She could say no and try and kill him, but he hoped his proposal would at least be considered. The fact that she didn’t immediately attack him, suggested she was willing to at least try. Of course, she could also throw him in a cage, but he hoped she would not. “And, I feel like pointing out that I have broken no laws and I am a citizen of the Confederacy. So, an attempt upon my life given my law abiding record would put you squarely on the other end of the considerable laws this territory is governed by. Technically you can’t even arrest me because ‘being from the Nether’ regardless of circumstances is not enough probable cause. The fact I am willing to put myself in your custody, providing my rights aren’t violated, should be ample proof enough of my peaceful intentions.”

He was also incredibly tired of living from check to check to simply keep a roof over his head. A roof that frankly wasn’t worth living under, but the walls afforded him a modicum of privacy. He was of course doing everything in his power to persuade her into doing something that would give him better than what he had. “Besides… Your people are a curiosity to me and I am sure you’d wish to study me as much as I would like to learn of you.”

It was a rather tidy little deal he was proposing.

Vytal Noctura

 

[Vytal Noctura]

"If an earthen barrier separating a lake and an ocean were demolished and then rebuilt, would the isolated water still be the lake or the ocean?" Vytal posited the question in reference to the man's earlier dismissal of his Netherworldly status. His situation was unique to a degree, but then he had not merely crossed over and back again by his own admission. "And if two entities owned the lake and ocean separately, who owns the newly isolated body of water?" The Nightmother didn't stand around waiting for Saer to scrounge for an answer. It was not something to be decided upon in the spur of the moment. The pale woman would herself take time to contemplate his place in galactic affairs; though there was some urgency to do so soon.

"Let me correct you of your own misinterpretation of recent events," the Witch continued. "Being from the Nether is a matter under which the Solanaceae has broad authority. You seem to recall a great deal of the Law, or have spent time learning it to blend in; regardless, there are no spiritual laws enshrined as the...innocent people of this galaxy hardly needs to be bothered worrying about such things." It was also a subject fraught with morally dubious or questionable circumstances with no right answer and only unending grief. The less people knew of how thin the veil between Life and Death truly was the better.

As Vytal crossed her arms over her breasts, her green eyes ne'er strayed from the man's personage. "Matters of theory aside, your deal is not without merit. Do you have affairs you must put in order? There seems little love lost between you and this store. Which I am curious if they performed any sort of background check on the man they hired, and how you would have passed such scrutiny." Saer said he'd only killed one so far. Some would find that criminal enough to disregard everything else he said, and throw him in prison. Nightsisters were not so hasty. Unless it involved another Nightsister (or Solanaceae), of course. No one tolerated an attack on one's family.

Tag: Saer Lorian

 

[Saer Lorian]

Her counterargument had so many holes in it that frankly it was not worth pursuing. To the average person he was just another stranger. “They did, they found nothing of interest. When I arrived back in this space and registered I was treated as someone who had no registered identification, which I didn’t. The only one bringing up my last place of residence is you, I intended to eke out a living till I had my circumstances and oddities figured out and then planned to change things. I have broken no laws within the Confederacy, so yes, my offer has plenty of merit. This is especially true if you decided to attack me, by the time one of us fell to the other? This place would be a wasteland and wholly on your shoulders as I would be defending myself, whereas you? You would be the aggressor.”

He then closed the gap between them, meeting her gaze. “While the CIS may have changed compared to what fragments I remember. I doubt it has changed much. Make no mistake Woman-whose-name-I-was-not-given, I will not let anyone rob me of my freedom. I go with you to spare the lives around us, but the moment you seek to threaten the only thing I hold dear, I will lay waste to you and yours. I am no criminal to be apprehended and thrown into a cage.”

He crossed his arms and looked away, trying to remember anything he could. " Abel Denko , I can’t really remember the circumstances around why I knew him. I just feel a connection, something was between us, something strong. If he still lives, if he still remembers the man I had been, then he may choose to speak on my behalf. I cannot say how I myself changed, I don’t remember who I was or where I came from. I just… Don’t belong there.”

He couldn’t be blamed for wanting to retain his freedom. For being willing to fight to keep it. He told her what anyone else in his circumstance would. Only difference was, he could make good on those intentions. “As long as I am treated as a guest, you and I will have no issues. I am just as unsettled and on edge about this strangeness as you are. I may not remember much about myself, but I do know something isn’t right. The vague sense of myself does not sit well with the sense of self I have now. And while I may be the first from there who seeks… Coexistence, like other sentients. I need to learn about myself as much as you do for the next that may come who isn’t as peaceful as I. Going with you is for as much selfishness and self interest as you have for wanting to take me. We’ll both benefit, as long as the manners and level of respect remains acceptable.”

Vytal Noctura

 

[Vytal Noctura]

"If you wish to be forthright, then I shall be likewise. Should I determine you to be a threat to either the Confederacy or this plane of existence, I will not only commit every resource I have to containing such a threat; but ensure that your very soul does not possess the capability of lingering in the Nether." There were ways to make certain a soul dissipated back to the Source. Some might consider it 'Final Death.'

Were she of the mind to enter into some sort of male demonstration of power, Vytal would have continued to correct the man in his mistaken impressions of his circumstances. Namely, that she would care for whatever blame might be assigned to her should this man cause the destruction he claimed capable of under... poorer relations. Whether it was meant as a threat or not, she would extend him the gracious belief it was merely a polite insistence that they should not engage in a fight here; as the Nightmother was unaccustomed to being threatened and would not take kindly to it. Matter of fact was the moment Saer was a threat to the Living Realm his time among mortals would be short indeed. Collateral damage was a small price to pay to ensuring the Balance of all things.

"You are welcome to stay with the Solanaceae so long as you continue to abide by the law, as you have done so thus far. I am certain we can locate Abel Denko. If you knew them before your encounter in the Nether -- with a creature that has earned you no small amount of attention by entities whose names you do not wish to know," not from choice, but because one could rest easier at night not knowing, "then," she continued, "they may be of some help recalling more about who you were."

The Witch regarded the man for a moment and held up a finger. "Consider if remembering is worth whatever cost may come with it, or if this is an opportunity few seldom get as unnerving as it may be. Either way, the Witches and the Knights of the Confederacy can provide you instruction on the judicious use of your power. How ever much you desire, and that you can manage."

"You may call me The Nightmother. What name should I and others call you? For now, if you discover another name in your travels." The male made a point of pointing out he didn't know her name, while having not provided his own. A bothersome male characteristic to be unnecessarily aggravating.

Vytal crossed her arms across her chest as she stared at him. "Back to my earlier question. What have you need to do before we depart?"

Tag: Saer Lorian

 

[Saer Lorian]

He scoffed. “Fine then, I guess I will call you ‘Nighty’. I am not your underling, thus your title isn’t necessary and frankly, rather pretentious considering the circumstances. I am Saer Lorian, Saer can suffice. I have nothing of value I need to retrieve nor anyone of note who would miss me.”

He then gestured with a hand in a ‘lead the way’ manner. He had been slowly recalling a lot of the education of his past life. He assumed that, judging by the memories, it was because these memories left a very strong impression. In fact, all of them were unsettling and painful to recall. His past life must have been incredibly painful and unpleasant. All the more reason to be grateful he forgot most of it. Except… Who was that man he mentioned? “My dietary requirements are… Unusual. Apparently I feed on energy, but life energy is the most sustaining. I have been leeching off the power grid. I am not sure how to go about taking from people in a way that won’t likely lead to their deaths. So if you have a power source that I may take from, all the better.”

He at least learned how to take from the grid without more than flickering the lights. It left him wondering if people were similar, but he had no interest in trying it out. He was also pretty sure that if he suggested he learned how to control that, this woman might constitute it as a threat and use it as an excuse to try and take his life. Except that it did fall under the auspices of ‘learning control’. Perhaps once he earned a measure of her trust, if that ever happened, he could bring it up with less risk.

Vytal Noctura