First Reply The Azure Respite.

[Serina Calis]

The Azure Respite.
Location: Manaan.
Objective: Relax.
Allies: ???
Opposing Force: ???
Tags: ???

Enough is simply enough.
​

The sky above Manaan stretched wide and endless, painted in hues of deep cerulean and shimmering gold as the sun dipped toward the horizon. The ocean world was a tapestry of liquid sapphire, its vast waters stretching beyond sight, undisturbed save for the occasional ripple of a breeze gliding across its surface. The gentle lapping of the tide against the floating platforms of the resort was a melody all its own, slow and rhythmic, like the steady heartbeat of the planet itself.

Serina Calis sat alone on the balcony of her private suite, a half-full glass of wine dangling loosely between her fingers. The bottle—an exquisite vintage, sourced from the distant vineyards of Naboo—rested nearby on the polished wooden table, its dark glass glistening under the warm glow of ambient lighting. She had barely touched it. The first sip had been smooth, rich, delicate. The second had been nothing more than an afterthought.

For the first time in what felt like years, Serina allowed herself to simply exist. No plotting. No masks. No layers of deception. She had come here under an assumed name, of course, because she had to. But beyond that, there was nothing—no Sith, no Jedi, no hidden agendas, no inevitable conflict. Just the sound of the waves, the distant murmur of guests enjoying their evening, and the feeling of the sea breeze brushing against her skin.

She took a slow breath and exhaled, releasing some of the tension knotted in her chest. It had been too much. Everything. The weight of secrets she had uncovered, the betrayals, the endless, ceaseless manipulations of those who sought to twist the galaxy to their own ends, like herself. She had seen too much, done too much, had her hands stained in ways she wasn't sure could ever be washed clean. And for what? Power? Knowledge? Survival?

All of it.

And none of it.

She lifted the glass to her lips and took another sip, savoring the way the flavor lingered on her tongue. It was a quiet indulgence, one of the few luxuries she allowed herself. She had always found a certain poetry in wine. The way it carried the essence of where it was grown, the labor of those who harvested the grapes, the careful process of its creation—it was a kind of art. A rare beauty in a galaxy that so often felt cold and cruel.

Serina leaned back in her chair, her gaze drifting out over the open waters. Even in the fading light, the ocean shimmered with an ethereal glow, the surface occasionally broken by the silhouettes of native Selkath gliding beneath the waves. The resort itself was a marvel of sleek architecture and natural integration—floating terraces, translucent walkways, and subtle lighting that reflected off the water like scattered stars. It was peaceful. Almost unreal.

For so long, she had been running. Chasing after truth. Chasing after power. Trying to carve out a place for herself in a galaxy that refused to give her one. And in doing so, she had lost something—something she wasn't sure she could ever get back. She had always known she was different. Smarter. More ambitious. She had never been content with the role of a mere Jedi, and yet, she had never truly embraced the Sith either. She had carved her own path between the two, but where had it led her?

To war. To suffering. To revelations that had shattered the foundation of everything she had once believed.

And yet, for tonight, none of that mattered.

She didn't care about the Jedi. She didn't care about the Sith. She didn't care about whatever power plays were unfolding across the stars, nor the weight of her ambitions pressing against her back like an unseen hand urging her forward.

Tonight, she was just Serina. A woman sitting alone, listening to the ocean, drinking wine, and watching the sun slip beneath the waves.

The thought almost made her laugh. If anyone saw her like this—truly saw her—they wouldn't believe it. Not the Jedi. Not the Sith. Not the allies or enemies who whispered her name in hushed tones. They all saw her as something more, something contradictory. A force to be reckoned with, yet weak. A cunning mind lurking behind a beautiful smile, yet bitter and ugly. But none of them had ever seen this side of her. The one who, in a rare and quiet moment, could find solace in something as simple as the sound of the tide.

Maybe two of them had. But to dwell on such thoughts was assuredly oblivion.

Serina closed her eyes for a long moment, letting the gentle sea breeze wash over her. It smelled of salt and warmth, of something ancient and enduring. When she opened them again, the sky had darkened further, the stars beginning to flicker to life overhead.

She could stay here forever.

But she wouldn't.

She couldn't.

Because even now, in this perfect, fleeting moment, she knew the galaxy would come calling for her again. It always did. And when it did, she would have no choice but to answer.

But not tonight.

Tonight, she would drink her wine.

Tonight, she would listen to the ocean.

Tonight, she would be Serina.

And for now, that was enough.

 

[Mystra Midnight]

​

Theme: The Devil you Know
Tags: Serina Calis

---

​

The voice of the god came calling and it was once again time for Mistress of Midnight Mystra to remerge. It had been so long since she had felt the call from her maker, it wanting her to bring a reckoning. Yet it wasn't reckoning to the world of Manaan, her God destruction didn't want her to destroy a world but instead individuals. The question was why, the herald of destruction was not one who followed her god unquestioningly especially when it had been so long since she last heard it's call.

Mystra went over the list mentally of the names, some had hidden themselves well and others were well guarded. Yet the ancient magicks of sight and tracking would eventually find them all. It meant the reckoning would eventually come to all the names on the list one such name had brought her to Manaan.

Mystra stood near the seashore staring out at the waves and lightening the sky as the light faded from this side of the planet. Mystra empty her mind and let the feeling of the world itself wash over her as she stood their looking out on the waves. A world of a wild ocean ruined by sentient life's need to corrupt everything.

She wished her god had asked her to wipe this world of all life rather than a single one. It deserved better than pollution living brought to it. The diminutive ghost continued to linger looking out at the ocean before them taking the feeling of the world around them. It hungered for destruction but knew it could not indulge this day.

It was strange for Mystra always at odds with the God she worshiped but always coming to it's call no matter where it led because just like her maker she thirsted for an end to the madness. She sought the silence of Galaxy devoid of life and devoid of life's pollution. Her destruction not the same as the god she served but similar enough that sometimes they did agree.

Now the question came how to draw out the prey that it's God had called for sacrifice. Mystra cleared her throat and then let out a siren's call. A sweat melody that might draw someone in.

"Come to my shore child

Rest your weary bones on my banks

Let the salt sea take your pain

Drown yourself in the relaxing waves

Come to me let my tides carry you.

Come to me little child"​

 

[Serina Calis]

The Azure Respite.
Location: Manaan.
Objective: Relax.
Allies: ???
Opposing Force: ???
Tags: Mystra Midnight

Enough is simply enough.
​

Serina's fingers tightened around the stem of her wine glass as the melody drifted to her on the sea breeze. It was haunting, a whisper woven into the salt-tinged air, slithering through the stillness of the evening. It didn't belong here, amidst the tranquil rhythm of Manaan's waters. It was too deliberate, too unnatural—like something pulled from the depths of a forgotten abyss.

She did not turn toward the sound immediately. Instead, she exhaled softly and tilted her head, letting the last sip of wine linger on her tongue before swallowing. For a brief moment, she had been at peace. For a brief moment, she had allowed herself the illusion of escape. And yet, the galaxy refused to let her go.

The call was meant for her.

Serina rose from her seat on the balcony, her movements slow, measured. The air carried the distant hum of resort life, laughter and conversation echoing from nearby floating terraces, but none of it felt real anymore. Not against the weight of the summons pressing into her mind like an echo of something ancient.

She stepped barefoot onto the cool stone of the balcony's edge, eyes narrowing as she gazed out over the ocean. It was a beautiful thing, this world. A vast, untamed force that existed before her and would exist long after she was gone. And yet, even the tides could be swayed, manipulated, called upon.

Like this voice.

Like the presence that lingered at the shore.

Serina had spent enough time around whispers in the dark to recognize the cadence of a calling. This was no ordinary voice—it was something steeped in power, wrapped in purpose. A summons. A challenge. An invitation.

She was not in the mood for games.

The air around her seemed to still as she reached out—not with her hands, but with something deeper, something unseen. The Force rippled outward, a silent current, stretching past the gentle waves to the shore beyond. Searching. Feeling.

And there it was.

A presence, small in form but vast in intent. A shadow at the water's edge, laced with something old. Something destructive. Serina had no name for it, but she knew its kind well enough.

But Serina was no child to be lured by pretty words, after all, temptation was her game.

A soft, knowing smirk curved her lips as she finally answered the call—not with words, but with presence.

She let the Force surge through her, filling the empty spaces between the air, the sea, the melody itself. Her voice was not song but steel, a sharp and deliberate intrusion against the gentle seduction of the siren's whisper.

"I do not drown so easily."

The words carried no venom, only amusement—a quiet defiance, a refusal to be drawn like a moth to a flame.

Serina stepped forward, the glow of the resort fading behind her as she descended toward the bottom, unhurried, her expression unreadable. She did not yet know who had come for her, or why. But if they had come seeking sacrifice—

They had chosen the wrong name from their list.

 

[Mystra Midnight]

​

Theme: The Devil you Know
Tags: Serina Calis

​

---

It is coming, Mystra told herself as it called out to her. Interesting these people so full of themselves, pride and arrogance blinding them from the truth. She could feel the presence of Serina approaching but Mystra calmly looked out to the sea. She didn't turn to look for the presence to coming from behind her.

"There are only two types of people that don't drown." Mystra spoke to her without turning, there was no fear even if Serina struck out to stab her in the back. The diminutive beings voice soft and calm, the only thing that eclipsed the illusion was the destructive nature in the soul.

"The sociopath and the psychopath. Everyone else drowns in regret, failure, and pain. Some coop by drowning themselves in booze, drugs, and other vices but it is still drowning. As for the sociopath and Psychopath one doesn't feel anything and the other can turn it off like a light switch." People usually destroyed themselves and those around them more than a bullet to the brain pan ever could.

"I don't know much about you, just a name in a dream my god sent me. So, you must have done something to gain her wrath, she has been silent for nearly thirty years. I wonder what it is that you have done?" Finally, Mystra turned to face Serina, Mystra face painted in black and white paint and her eyes pure black. Her clothing now in full display, she was dressed in simple black robes and didn't seem to be carrying any weapons. However, as she turned the face under the paint would be familiar in passing to Serina though older not the girl she had met once. "What is it you regret?"

Mystra was curious as to why this one had been chosen as a sacrifice, what she had done to deserve the gods ire. She would indeed kill this woman, but she had all the time in the world muse and question. "Or are you a sociopath or a psychopath?

 

[Serina Calis]

The Azure Respite.
Location: Manaan.
Objective: Relax.
Allies: ???
Opposing Force: ???
Tags: Mystra Midnight

Enough is simply enough.
​

Serina stopped a few paces away, her bare feet sinking slightly into the cool, damp sand. The ocean's tide whispered against the shore, the water rolling in and out, as if breathing in time with the world itself. She had seen and met many strange things in her life—creatures of darkness, acolytes of forgotten gods, zealots who believed themselves agents of destiny. This one was different.

It's voice was quiet, calm, yet laced with something volatile beneath the surface. It was the kind of voice that belonged to someone who had long since made peace with destruction, not merely as a tool but as a fundamental truth. And yet, despite the weight of the words, despite the blackened gaze and the deathly presence, Serina only smiled.

A slow, deliberate smile, touched with something knowing.

"That's an interesting philosophy," she mused, tilting her head. "But I think you're oversimplifying. Drowning is more than regret, failure, or pain. And those who claim they do not drown—they're often the first to sink."

She let the words settle, watching the woman before her, studying the face painted in black and white. Serina recognized it now, in some distant, passing way. A girl she had met once, long ago, now twisted into something… else. Older. Touched by whatever god had chosen her as its herald.

"A name in a dream, you say?" Serina's tone carried no fear, only curiosity. "That's fascinating. And what did your god whisper to you when it gave you my name? Did it send you a vision of the sins I've committed? The lives I've ruined? The choices I've made that have sent ripples across this galaxy?"

She took another step closer, unafraid.

"You ask what I regret. That's an interesting question." Serina's voice softened, her blue eyes glinting in the fading light. "And yet, I wonder… does your god regret calling on you after so long? Does it ever wonder if the hands it chose will falter?"

She let the question hang for a moment, then chuckled softly. "You seem very sure of yourself. So tell me, little ghost—do you think I am a sociopath? A psychopath? Or something else entirely?"

Serina didn't give her a chance to answer before stepping forward again, close enough now that she could see the fine cracks in the face paint, the gleam of Mystra's darkened eyes. Close enough that the sea breeze carried the faint scent of something ancient and strange, something not entirely of this world.

She leaned in slightly, her voice barely above a whisper.

"If you're here to kill me, you should do it now. Otherwise, we can skip the philosophy and get to the real question—"

Her gaze sharpened, piercing, her presence in the Force pressing outward like the slow pull of the tide before a storm.

"—What does your god fear?"

 

[Mystra Midnight]

Theme: The Devil you Know
Tags: Serina Calis

---

“Over simplified, for the weak minded.” A wicked smirk crossed the figures face as it stared at up at the woman calmly approaching her with out fear or trepidation. “Your own words speak a lot, those who claim not to drown sink first. You do not drown easily so must sink fast.”

Mystra did not move as the prey stalked closer and closer, just kept her dark eyes on Serina’s eyes. Mystra listened as her questions were answered with questions which did not impress and told her more than she wanted to know.

In the first few minutes of conversation, she had already figured out why her God had given this name to her. The only thing this woman before her had going for her was her lack of fear. Yet barbarian tribes of Ewoks didn’t have fear either, it didn’t make them intelligent creatures.

The being tried to get at her nerves with goading her about her God with out understanding or knowing it’s nature fully. Mystra knew her god well uncaring, cold, and destructive. Though it had not called on her in a long time it was not the first time that had happened. They had a peculiar relationship; they knew each other better than anyone could.

“You are prideful, arrogant, and unintelligent. The way you answer questions with questions tells me you think you are cunning. I don’t need my God to tell me what you have already revealed.” Mystra wasn’t underestimating the person before her just observing and commenting on what she saw before her. “But to answer your question just a name marked for destruction.”

It was true Mystra did not know why those marked with destruction were marked as such. Her own curiosity wanted to know but, on some level, she knew some of the names might not even have a reason with her God just random names pulled out of a hat.

She let the woman approach and whisper in her ear goading her, Serina thinking her question was some gotcha. Mystra turned her head slightly and smiled at her before speaking.

“Not you, or else she would have come herself.” Mystra laughed a wicked little cackle, her God loved facing her fears to wash them away herself. Mystra knew her role well when the maker called, these worlds, these people were annoyances but not ones her God would bother dirtying her hands with.

She thought for a second about lunging at Serina with her teeth bared like a wild animal and biting the woman's face off. It would have been a mad display of her God's will one that would have marred such a beautiful face. Yet it was to soon to attack, to expected and would only make thise creature before her think she got under Mystra's skin.

"Killing you, was not what I was asked to do, it might be a by product of destruction that I cannot avoid. But as for what you are from what I see, just a lost child not sith, not jedi, not anything else of consequence. A slave to the will and to a fate your arrogance won't let you change. Unwilling or unable to do what needs to be done. Am I close Serina?"

 

[Serina Calis]

The Azure Respite.
Location: Manaan.
Objective: Relax.
Allies: ???
Opposing Force: ???
Tags: Mystra Midnight

Enough is simply enough.
​

Serina did not move as Mystra spat her words, as the self-proclaimed harbinger of destruction wrapped herself in grandiosity and veiled threats. She did not sneer, did not lash out, did not even shift in response to the baiting. Instead, she merely smiled—a slow, knowing thing, the kind of smile that was not meant for this moment alone but for something far greater.

Something inevitable.

The tide swelled behind them, the ocean whispering against the shore like a breath caught in the throat of the universe itself. The breeze stirred through the darkness, and Serina let it roll over her, let it wrap around her like a cloak woven from the silent acknowledgment of the galaxy itself. It was listening. It was waiting.

And so, she spoke.

"You believe yourself a servant of destruction. You believe yourself the hand of an uncaring god, one who marks names and beckons death upon the chosen. How quaint." Her voice was calm, steady—not cold, not heated, but something that held weight, something that did not demand attention but commanded it.

"You call me arrogant. You call me unintelligent. But you are here, standing before me, and you mistake that for superiority? That is the difference between you and me, little ghost. You serve something that does not care for you. You grovel before a thing that offers you no more understanding than a storm offers the fool who prays to be spared. You think it makes you powerful. You think that because you are the one with the knife, because you are the one with the names, you have authority over something so vast, so infinite. But you are wrong."

She took a single step forward.

"You are nothing more than a blade without a hilt, a weapon without a mind. You are not destruction. You are not even a force of nature. You are merely the trembling whisper of something that does not even deem you worthy of an explanation."

Her eyes burned like twin stars against the dark.

"You think I am a child? That I am lost?" A soft, almost amused breath left her lips. "No, my dear. I have never been more found."

The Force swelled around her then—not as lightning, not as fire, not as fury, but as a weight. A presence. The air grew thick, charged, not with rage but with something deeper, something insidious. It was not an explosion—it was something creeping, something slipping into the cracks, something so intrinsic to the very nature of existence that it could not be stopped, only accepted.

"You speak of drowning. But what you fail to see, what you refuse to see, is that I do not sink—I spread. I seep into the foundations of this galaxy, into its bones, into its soul. I do not need to strike you down, because you are already lost, already rotted, already mine."

Her voice did not rise, but the very atmosphere around them seemed to darken, as though the very idea of light had become an afterthought.

"You see, little ghost, I am no servant. I am no slave to fate. I am no mere Sith, no exiled Jedi clinging to broken ideals. I am the thing that creeps beneath the doors of kings and gods alike, the thing that festers behind every throne, every temple, every desperate plea for salvation. I am the whisper in the back of every mind that tells them they could have more—that they should have more."

Another step.

"Your god marks names. I write them. Your god calls for destruction, and yet it sends a fragile little thing like you to carry it out in its stead. I do not serve destruction, because destruction is wasteful. No, I take. I consume. I infect."

A breath. A slow, deliberate pause.

"I am Corruption."

The word itself was not shouted, not declared with fanfare, but spoken with such undeniable certainty that it might as well have been the first law of the universe.

The tide rolled higher, the waves cresting and foaming in eerie synchrony with the cadence of her voice. The wind no longer whispered; it held its breath.

"And your god—whatever wretched thing it is—has made a mistake in calling my name."

Serina's expression did not change. The smile remained, the glint in her eyes unwavering, as if she were not speaking to Mystra alone, but to the force beyond her, the thing that had dared to reach out and touch something far, far beyond its comprehension.

"You call me a name in a dream. A sacrifice. But tell me, little ghost, what does a god do when the thing it sought to kill refuses to die? When the thing it tried to erase does not merely endure, but thrives? What happens when the infection is not purged but instead grows—deeper, stronger, inevitable?"

She leaned forward, just enough for her voice to drop to the barest of whispers.

"Your god fears me. I defied fate itself, multiple times."

The wind exhaled. The tide surged once more. The weight of her words, her presence, hung in the air like the promise of a plague yet to come.

Serina stepped back, slow and deliberate, her eyes never leaving Mystra's. The moment lingered, stretched between them like a tether—one that could be severed in an instant, or left to pull ever tighter.

"Now then," she mused, tilting her head ever so slightly. "Shall we test just how well your god prepared you for this?"

 

[Mystra Midnight]

Theme: The Devil you Know
Tags: Serina Calis

---

If those words were meant to harm or somehow break through Mystra's cold exterior they did not. She stood firmly uncaring, just like her the image of the maker she was formed in. If she thought those words meant anything to the figure they did not. She was well aware her God was uncaring one. "I have seen the beginning and end of time itself. I have bathed in the fires of both and survived. I can tell you almost everything in in this reality is finite."

Was all she said for a moment toward Serina's statements, she could explain that she did not grovel before her god, but she doubt she would understand that destruction doesn't want to prayer only judgement rendered. She could explain that the service was to bring about something greater but choose not to. She could explain that the avatar of destruction does not care about anyone or anything except the end.

"I do not think you are a child, compared to me you are one." The diminutive figure stared directly into the twin star eyes of Serina. Her Black hole eyes peering into the twin suns almost sucking them in with her gaze. The air growing heavy with invisible energies surging all around them.

"You speak in contradictions of your own words, manipulations to try to confuse the mind. You may even believe some of your own lies. Which is why you are lost." The waves crashing in the background but neither seemed to willing to give ground to the other.

"You stand for nothing which is why you fail at being a corrupter. Corruption just like destruction without purpose is wasteful and meaningless." That was the real difference in Mystra's mind her destruction, her God's destruction had a purpose. There was an end game, one which only a few could see. The Jedi and sith squabbled over peace and order but failed to see there was only one way to achieve it.

"Destruction comes in many forms, one is death yes, but it is not it's only form. You presume my God wants you dead or cares anything about your corruption. Though I don't know exactly why they gave me your name I can tell you my God has destroyed people and sent me to destroy people out of pure boredom." Serina wanted a reason so Mystra gave her one though as she watched the woman with her dark eyes, she kind of figured there might be more then boredom.

"If you only knew who my god was you would know how false your words are." She scoffed a bit a the proclamation of her God fearing this one. Mystra could list all the legends of this Galaxy her God had fought with and against and all the deeds she had brought with out an ounce of fear. Yet Mystra was not here to totally stroke her makers ego.

"Fate is easily tricked but it has its ways of catching up." That wicked grin on her face appeared once more like a little devil. "Okay defier of fate, we can attempt to shed blood and make this messier than it has to be? Then again, we could put your defiance of fate to the test with a little game?" From the calm tone she had been speaking up to this point, this time it came off mockingly as if to taunt Serina.

"If you choose to play my game and you defeat fate, you can walk away relatively unharmed. If you choose to fight I won't hold back or give you a chance and I can't guarantee you will live."

 

[Serina Calis]

The Azure Respite.
Location: Manaan.
Objective: Relax.
Allies: ???
Opposing Force: ???
Tags: Mystra Midnight

Enough is simply enough.
​

The stars above them gleamed like distant, indifferent eyes, casting their pale light upon the endless waters of Manaan. The air between them was thick with something unspoken—an impasse not of force, nor of will, but of fundamental truths clashing in the silence.

Serina did not blink. Did not waver. If Mystra thought herself an immovable force, she would soon learn that Serina was not an object that moved—she was the slow, creeping erosion that wore away at all things, the silent, insidious force that took root where nothing else could.

She laughed, softly. Not out of amusement, nor derision, but something deeper—something that lived in the marrow of her being, something that stretched into the infinite beyond.

"You speak with such certainty. Such finality."

She stepped forward again, closer, not as a warrior advancing but as something far worse—something patient. Something that understood.

"You say you have seen the beginning and the end. That you have bathed in the fires of both and survived. And yet, for all of your experience, for all of your time spent as a mere echo of something greater, you have not yet learned the most fundamental truth of existence."

The wind howled, the tide crashed, and the force between them twisted into something unseen, something vast.

Serina's voice was calm, weightless, yet heavier than any threat Mystra could offer.

"Nothing is finite."

She let the words settle. Let them sink.

"Not you. Not me. Not your god, nor the stars that bore witness to its rise. All things that claim to be inevitable are merely waiting to be surpassed."

Her blue eyes gleamed, catching the flickering reflection of the waves.

"And you, little ghost, for all your wisdom, all your supposed knowing, are bound by the very thing you pretend to transcend. You claim your god does not want prayer—only judgment. But judgment itself is merely the illusion of control. Even the executioner swings the blade because something commands them to do so. And you? You are no different."

Serina's smile did not fade, but there was something new in it now. Not amusement. Not even arrogance.

Certainty.

"You are a child. Not in age, not in experience, but in understanding. Because you do not see that even as you speak of destruction, you remain bound by it. Chained to something that does not care, that will never care. And the most pitiful thing of all?"

She leaned in just slightly.

"You accept it."

Serina exhaled softly, straightening once more, letting the weight of her words linger like the pull of the tide. She could see Mystra's expression—unchanging, unwavering, that same hollow look she had worn from the start. But Serina knew better than to look at a face and believe it told the full story.

Mystra had been expecting a pawn. A mere mortal playing at divinity.

But she had found something else entirely.

"A game?" Serina mused, tilting her head slightly, considering the offer as if it were an idle thing. "You call it fate, but fate is nothing more than the excuse of the weak. A thing created by those who do not wish to take responsibility for their own ruin. You want to test me? To make me prove that I do not bend to the will of something greater?"

Another soft laugh.

"You think too small."

She took another step forward, deliberate, closing the distance between them until there was nothing but breath and fate itself lingering between them.

"I will play your game, little ghost. But understand this—I do not defy fate."

The ocean swelled, the wind surged, and the night itself seemed to hold its breath as Serina spoke the words that would echo long beyond this shore, beyond this world.

"I rewrite it."

The force rippled, unseen yet undeniable. And for the first time, as the tide rose around them, it became clear:

This was not a battle.

This was the first move in something far, far greater.

"Now then," Serina purred, voice like silk woven with steel, "what are the rules?"

 

[Mystra Midnight]

Theme: The Devil you Know
Tags: Serina Calis

---

The creature known as Serina moved closer always trying to intimidate and manipulate. Yet the monster that stood before her was a different kind of beast. One created in the image of a God that did not bend and did not break. The visage of a demon who had faced terror's to the galaxy far greater then Serina would ever be. So many had tried to break her God's will, the same will she was blessed with but not a single soul had been able stop the unchained spirit.

She let the girl bluster, boast about her superiority wrapped in so many lies and contradictions. Yet all Mystra saw was someone who did not know who they truly were and had to make themselves bigger blind to the fact their own words betrayed them. She let the woman bluster until she accepted to play the game.

In silence Mystra arm went outstretched in front of her. The palm of her hand open and face down towards the ground. "You say things like those that believe they don't sink, sink the fastest. Yet you claim not to sink only spread." A single silver ball appeared and seemed to drop from Mystra's open left palm out of thin air. The ball was 33mm in size and dropped to the ground and rolled between the short distance between Mystra and Serina's feet.

"You say you a defier of fate, and next you claim you are not, but you rewrite it." A second ball dropped, and it rolled right next to the second ball on the ground.

"I can tell you; I know how to rewrite fate it is not an easy task." Then a third ball followed the second.

"I can also tell you existence as you know it is an illusion crafted by one's own mind. Your existence lives and dies with you no one else can perceive it so it is very much finite." Then a fourth ball fell from the palm as Mystra continued.

"People believe the force is infinite, but there are worlds, people, and other realities completely devoid of it proving it too is finite." Then a fifth ball dropped as Mystra stood there calmly keeping her eyes on Serina like they were in some eternal staring context.

"There have been so many before you that said all the things. Made all the claims you have, you are not the first nor will you be the last. You speak of not being a sith but you have the same delusion of greatness as most of the Lords I have met." She let the sixth and final ball fall from her palm and then with a smooth fluid motion she turned her palm up towards the stars over Manaan and as she did a dagger appeared in the palm of her hand.

"Maybe you're Mandalorian as they are the only ones with as big of egos as sith. If so maybe this game will be easier for you." A wicked cruel smirk hung heavy on the painted faced witch. "Before you is six choices, each choice has a consequence as all choices have consequences. Some seem benign, the butterfly effect unseen until it's too late."

Mystra's right hand gestured to the six silver balls laying between them. "A one in six chance to choose which fate befalls you. One is ball of disintegration annihilating everything that is you. One is a ball of memory destroying your mind completely making you a blank unwritten story. One is pain a nerve agent that will rack your body with pain every waking moment of your life destroying your body. One is the will, severing you from the force the well of your power. One is of the soul, given to the god of destruction making you one of its harbingers. One is of gold, it glitters and gets everywhere even long after you think it's gone you find specks of it on your clothing." All had consequences and it was a one in six chance to see if one could defy fate itself. Though the glitter bomb was the lesser of all the evils presented and they were also all consequences Mystra's God had endured and overcame.

"The dagger is because to change or rewrite fate there is always a sacrifice that needs to be made." Mystra did not say it but she had sacrificed a lot to rewrite her fate and protect certain people. She had sacrificed so much and lived so long she knew the consequences of messing with fate too much. "If you remove one of your fingers One ball of your choosing can be removed from the pile. The simplest sacrifice to getting you closer to the fate you desire. If you remove one of your ears two balls of your choice can be removed from the pile. Remove one of your eyes with your bare hand and three balls of your choice can be removed. Bite off your own tongue and four balls of your choice can be removed." All the sacrifices mentioned were symbolic of things Mystra's God had done to gain their power. A test of how far one was willing to go to stay true their belief.

"If you make the sacrifice, you could be down to the two choices that you picked. Then you take one and see what fate has in store and I take the other. If you don't make the ultimate sacrifice, we pick one each from how many ever balls there are." With that Mystra held the dagger out to Serina wondering if she would make the simple sacrifices or one of the harder ones or if she would take a chance on one in six.

 

[Serina Calis]

The Azure Respite.
Location: Manaan.
Objective: Relax.
Allies: ???
Opposing Force: ???
Tags: Mystra Midnight

Enough is simply enough.
​

Serina stood still, her arms folded across her chest as Mystra's words slithered through the night air, as the silver spheres glimmered like stars fallen from the sky. There was no fear in her gaze, no hesitation in her breath. Only thought. Consideration. Calculation.

This was not a game of fate.

It was a test of will.

The dagger gleamed in the moonlight, the silver blade catching the reflection of the ocean's waves. Mystra had laid out the rules, the sacrifice, the price of defiance. And Serina? She listened. But not to Mystra.

To herself.

A voice stirred in the void.

"You hesitate."

Serina inhaled sharply. Not from pain, not from fear, but from the sudden weight pressing against the inside of her skull. The voice was hers—not Mystra's, not the voice of the so-called god of destruction, not some foreign entity pressing in through the Force. It was her own voice, but twisted with something else. Something older. Something inevitable.

"Don't be absurd," Serina whispered under her breath, barely audible.

"Then why do you wait? Why do you still play by their rules? You already know what to do. You already know how this ends. You will not let fate decide anything. You will take it, as you always do. But this? This is a test, and I know you hate failing."

The air grew colder.

Serina did not flinch.

"You are me, are you not?"

A quiet laugh echoed in her mind, a rich, knowing sound.

"You already know."

And she did.

She had felt it, whispering in the back of her mind for some time now. The knowledge that she would not end. That she would not be bound by time, nor gods, nor the fleeting mortality of those who came before her. Corruption does not die—it only spreads.

And this was the final proof.

She truly was speaking to herself.

A future self. A self that had already won.

"She thinks this game matters," the voice purred. "She thinks we are playing along. But you know better. You know how to stack the deck. You know how to take control. Do what needs to be done, and I will handle the rest."

Serina exhaled, steady and slow.

Then, she reached out, took the dagger from Mystra's hand, and smiled.

"A sacrifice." Her voice was calm, almost amused, speaking to Mystra directly. "You think pain is a deterrent? That bodily mutilation is the price of victory? How… quaint."

She twirled the dagger between her fingers, examining the blade. It was sharp, well-balanced, designed for precision. A tool of finality.

"You give me choices. But you forget—I do not make choices. I dictate them."

Without hesitation, without flinching, without breaking eye contact with Mystra—Serina opened her mouth, bit down on her own tongue, and ripped it from her mouth.

The pain was exquisite. Blinding. Sharp. It should have left her staggering, should have sent her to her knees, should have made her scream—but she did not. The blood welled in her mouth, thick and metallic, spilling over her lips like a sacrament to something far greater than Mystra's god. But Serina did not fall. She did not waver.

Because even as the pain lanced through her body, the voice of her future self took over.

Serina licked her lips.

"Good girl."

"Now then," Serina continued, her voice smooth, unbothered by the gory display that had just transpired. "That removes four of your pathetic little fates, doesn't it? Let's see now…"

The spheres glinted at her feet. Six choices. Now only two remained.

Serina stepped forward and picked one up.

"I told you before, little ghost—I do not defy fate. I rewrite it. And now, you will watch as I do."

She held the ball up, studying it. The game was coming to an end. The test was nearly complete.

Blood dripped from Serina's lips, dark and gleaming in the moonlight, yet her face was eerily composed. The severed tongue lay discarded in the sand, a sacrifice without hesitation, without regret. It had been necessary. A mere inconvenience. The body could be repaired, reshaped, reformed—it was nothing compared to the truth unfolding before them.

Serina's future self had taken control, and there was clarity now.

The silver spheres lay glistening at their feet, six once, now only two. The choices had been reduced, the game had been rigged, and Serina knew what had to be done.

Her gaze flicked over the remaining orbs, and she smiled.

"Oh, little ghost," Serina purred, the voice smooth, untouched by the mutilation that should have left her silent. "Did you think you were the one in control here? Did you think that I would simply play along? No… I do not gamble with my destiny. I sculpt it."

Without hesitation, Serina bent down and took two spheres into her hands.

One for herself.
One for Mystra.

She lifted them, letting them glint in the pale light, the ocean's restless waves crashing behind her. The choice had already been made before she had even touched them.

For herself— The Ball of the Soul.

A sphere that would not break her. A sphere that would not shatter her mind, nor annihilate her body, nor sever her from the power she had spent her life cultivating. No, this was something far better. A gift. A challenge. A corruption waiting to be embraced.

Serina's fingers curled around the sphere, her grin widening as she turned her gaze upon Mystra.

"You wanted me to be a harbinger of your god?" she mused, rolling the sphere between her fingers. "How poetic. Do you not realize what you have done?"

Her voice dropped into something syrupy and dark, something inevitable.

"You have not made me a servant, little ghost."

She brought the sphere to her lips, her blood-stained mouth parting as she let the weight of fate itself slide past her tongue, dissolving into her very essence.

"You have made me your equal."

"And now…" she whispered, her head tilting, eyes burning with star-born malice, "I believe you should taste fate as well."

For Mystra— The Ball of Memory.

A fate far worse than death. A perfect end for a creature that prided itself on knowledge, on its ancient wisdom, on the centuries it had endured. Mystra was old. Mystra had seen things that others could not comprehend. She had bathed in the fires of creation and the end of time itself, and yet now—

She would remember nothing.

Serina threw the sphere at Mystra's feet.

"What will you be now, little ghost?" Serina murmured, tilting her head. "Without your wisdom? Without your purpose? Without the centuries of knowledge that made you who you are?"

She stepped closer, her voice a silken dagger, her presence an infection creeping into the cracks of reality itself.

"You wanted to see if I could rewrite fate."

A slow, knowing smile curled on her lips.

"Now, let's watch together as I erase yours."

 

[Mystra Midnight]

Theme: The Devil you Know
Tags: Serina Calis

---

Mystra let the rewriter of fate revel in her supposed victory over her. Her dark eyes looked at the sphere at her feet. Yet no sense of concern or worry seemed to wash over her at what that sphere contained. She stepped over it and went to the other remaining balls on the ground picking up one.

She looked at its silver shine in the night sky, the glint on it just perfect in her dark eyes. "You played the game indeed you did." She smirked as she tossed the sphere she had picked up in the air and as it flew up it disappeared.

"The will and it's power remain yours, but like I said there is always a butterfly effect when messing with fate." The ball of the will, the power of the force after disappearing, reappeared in the middle of temple somewhere full of force users. It went off like a lightening strike zapping and severing all in the temple of their power.

Then Mystra went and picked up one of the other discarded balls, the one of pain. "You take the power of others and there will to fight for their existence. Causing so many people unimaginable pain." Mystra tossed up the ball of pain into the air and it disappeared. It came to land in an orphanage of children that only dreamed of what there lives could be. The ball went off and the children's bodies racked with pain like something was tearing at them from the inside trying to rip out of them.

Mystra then went to the ball of annihilation and tossed it up into the air. It landed into the middle of a hall where hundreds of guests were celebrating a wedding. A joyous occasion but all were turned to ash disintegrated. "Destroying lives and futures, stories unfinished and will remain so."

"But." She went and picked up the ball of gold. "Some might just benefit, gaining wealth and more power from the fate you choose to rewrite." Mystra tossed it up in the air and the ball disappeared as a vicious cruel dictator on Canto bight pulled the lever on his slot machine. The ball hit the slot machine, and a jackpot rang out giving dictator even more wealth.

Mystra then moved back then to standing in front of the ball but did not pick it up yet. "You are right the game was rigged. You had eight possible futures for yourself, not just the six you thought you did. You removed your tongue by removing four choices and having the right to dictate the remaining. However, I didn't say you couldn't sacrifice to remove all balls nulling all fates." It was a truth a tongue removed the most choices at once, but Mystra never said she couldn't sacrifice more because you can always sacrifice more.

"That was the seventh choice for a future, but you chose the eighth option which surprised me." With that Mystra levitated the ball of erasure up to her hand. "The rules were, you take one and I take one. You took both, taking on both fates." Serina had taken both in her hands therefore they were her fates.

Without hesitation, Serina bent down and took two spheres into her hands.

One for herself.

One for Mystra.

"Of all the possible futures I did not see that one being chosen. Your soul is now branded with my God's mark." Serina would feel it and sense the blood trail being marked on her soul so that Mystra's God could always find her. She lifted the sphere of erasure up between her thumb and pointer finger before grasping it in her fist. "We will save this as an insurance policy to make sure you do what you are told. So much for being my equal, better luck next time." A wicked smile crossed the Mistress of Midnights face. It was simple the game was called Tegan win's and Tegan Starfall the Goddess of destruction always won. "Thanks, for playing."

 

[Serina Calis]

The Azure Respite.
Location: Manaan.
Objective: Relax.
Allies: ???
Opposing Force: ???
Tags: Mystra Midnight

Enough is simply enough.
​

The night air was still thick with tension, the weight of unspoken forces pressing in on all sides. Mystra stood there, monologuing like some omnipotent, all-knowing force of the cosmos, spinning her web of fate, flipping reality like a credit chip at a Sabacc table, and just loving the sound of her own voice.

And Future Serina?

Future Serina had had enough.

The moment Mystra uttered, "Thanks for playing," there was silence. A long, painful, awkward silence. The kind of silence that felt like a planetary cycle had passed, where entire civilizations could have risen and fallen, and still—still—this nonsense persisted.

Then, Serina—well, Future Serina speaking through Serina's now tongueless mouth—let out the slowest, deepest, most exhausted sigh imaginable.

"Oh karking god, are we still doing this?"

The voice was still smooth, still confident, but there was something else there now—something deeply, profoundly done.

Future Serina inhaled, composing herself, before she clasped her hands together in a perfect display of professional-level aggravation.

"Alright. Alright. Listen. I have played your stupid little game. I have listened to your cryptic, self-important bull. I have humored your goddamn existential parlor tricks like a good sport, and I was even willing to roll with it because, hey, sometimes you gotta match energy. But now? Now, you're just dragging it out."

Serina's arms extended slightly, palms up, as if addressing a group of children who had somehow not yet grasped basic arithmetic.

"You spent all this time setting up a grand, complex, fate-defining game, laying out the stakes, giving choices, forcing sacrifices, throwing in cosmic consequences like you're some omnipotent game master of the universe, and now you want to tell me that actually—plot twist!—the game was rigged in ways I didn't even need to play along with?"

She threw up her hands, shaking her head.

"You really could've led with that and saved me the trouble of ripping out my own tongue like a goddamn lunatic, but nooo, we had to make a whole karking show out of it, didn't we?"

Future Serina took a step forward, every motion deliberate, the walking manifestation of absolute exasperation.

"And now, now, you want to tell me that her soul is marked? Her soul? My soul?"

She laughed—a sharp, bitter, almost hysterical laugh that echoed across the ocean, because at this point, this was comedy.

"Do you even know who the kark I am? My soul is already spoken for. By me. You're out here acting like your god just waltzed into a room and slapped a claim tag on me like some kind of predatory loan shark, but here's the kicker—"

She leaned in slightly, voice dropping to a slow, condescending whisper.

"You cannot claim what is already owned."

A pause.

"Let me break it down for you, sweetheart."

She straightened, rolling her shoulders, letting the tension in the air shift entirely in her favor, because she had stopped caring.

"I'm Corruption. I'm not following fate's script. I'm writing it. So whatever lovely little doom prophecy you think you just stapled to my ass? I will eat it for breakfast and out from my behind will come a better future."

She pointed at Mystra, her expression exceedingly polite, yet fundamentally threatening.

"Now, let's address this insurance policy bull. You have an orb. A tiny, shiny orb that you claim binds me to some future directive of yours, like I'm gonna be sitting in my grand, galaxy-consuming palace one day and suddenly go, 'Oh no! The orb! Mystra's coming to collect!'" She made a mock gasp, hands dramatically placed over her chest. "What ever will I do?"

Then, deadpan stare.

"No."

Future Serina pointed to the orb.

"Break it. Right. Now."

Her tone was not a request.

"Because here's the thing, my dear self-important little spooky prophet—you made the rules. And by your own rules, I took a sphere, and you took a sphere. That means there is no leftover insurance policy bull. You want to break the game after it's already ended? Then you're breaking your own rules, and let me tell you something, honey—I will not be bound by hypocrisy."

She crossed her arms, tapping her fingers against her bicep, staring unflinchingly at Mystra.

"So do it. Break the orb. Because if you don't, that means you lack the spine to stand by your own damn game. And frankly? I would be embarrassed for you."

Then, as if finally unleashing the deepest, most long-held grievance, Future Serina threw up her hands and let everything out in one go.

"And another thing—why the kark does the galaxy insist on finding me when I am trying to take a karking break? I came to Manaan to drink wine, enjoy the karking ocean, and forget that the entire universe is an absolute dumpster fire, and somehow—somehow—I still end up in a goddamn fate duel with a self-proclaimed cosmic executioner!"

She gestured at the surroundings wildly, as if the entire planet was at fault.

"I didn't ask for this! I wasn't out here monologuing about fate, I wasn't plotting some grand scheme—I was literally just vibing! And then you show up, whispering your spooky crap, talking about gods and destruction and fate and sacrifice like we're in some ancient prophecy human roundtable, and I just—I cannot keep doing this."

She closed her eyes, breathed in, exhaled.

"I need a vacation from my vacation. And a fucking drink."

Then, back to dead seriousness, Future Serina locked eyes with Mystra again, her presence pressing down with the full weight of someone who was absolutely finished entertaining nonsense.

"Break the orb."

A long pause.

"And then do me a favor and kark off."

Future Serina cracked her neck, adjusted her posture, and smoothed back her blood-stained hair like she had just wrapped up a high-stakes corporate meeting.

She rolled her shoulders, stepping back toward the resort, toward the actual life she was supposed to be relaxing in.

"Tonight, you're going to break that karking orb… or you're going to prove that your games mean nothing."

A final glance.

"Your move, little ghost."

 

[Serina Calis]

double post, pls delete XD