The Bane of Innocence (ATTN: Darth Abyss)

[Alara Slayn]

While apprehensive and suspicious, by now she'd trusted the Dark Lord at least enough when it came to discussing the bread and butter of the Path, rather than on searching for fresh, innovative and creative ways to mentally crush her spirits and flatten her. The great derelicts they entered seemed ancient, its luster lost to the millennia, but none of its apparent, seething corruption. 'Evil' wasn't the appropriate word for something so hauntingly beautiful. The ruins themselves, while looking like little more than piles of obsidian rubble, were magnificent - in the sense of that they stood for - Power. Unlimited power. As much as she probably could have fathomed with regards to its implications, or how grandiose and sentimental a moment it could have been for the aspiring initiative, admittedly most of it was still lost on her young, ever-so-malleable mind. The dark corridors felt damp and dead to the touch, and everywhere the smell of ozone and limestone made for a revolting cascade of aromas - enough to make a little girl heave herself, which she managed not to out of fear that she might give the Dark Lord more ammunition to use against her.

As she walked through the derelict with [member="Darth Abyss"], she gradually came to tune into these phantom-like whispers that seemed to beckon from the darker corners - whether it was her mind playing tricks on her or something else she didn't know, but either way it caused her to keep turning her head from side to side just to make sure the two were alone. It was a harrowing little tour of an already menacing-looking structure. Most unsettling.

"... Okay.."

At this point, she had no more bravado left. Many read about Sith temples, but how many actually got to step in one? She felt like a defenseless child only dressed like an Acolyte in this point, but perhaps that was intentional. She turned to the Darth first as if not sure what to do next, but decided right away that trying first was better for her than momentary weakness. Everything had to be done with conviction - after all, this is what she wanted, wasn't it?

Initially, she saw only darkness and heard only silence. With her eyes closed she heard little more than her own breathing, as well as the Dark Lord's as the dioxide emissions exited from his mask. Her brows furrowed in frustration after about a minute, but it was only when she finally stopped bickering to herself internally that she began to hear something. At first it was the same wall of mumbling whispers, but over time the voices grew louder and louder, and without the proper mental fortitude to regulate herself, quickly escalated to a migraine.

Her hands seemed to tense and shake as she tried out this new technique, and almost immediately her palms grew sweaty, as did little beads of sweat begin to drip down her forehead. So many glory days lost to the Sith, she made out as a wraith-like chorus of voices whispered to her from the nether beyond. It all seemed to reopen old wounds she shut, and with every one freshly torn open again within her heart and mind, it was as if the spirits reveled in her pain. Already shaking and trembling, she fell to her knees, breathing heavily - almost gasping.

"What's... WHAT'S HAPPENING?!"

And as she opened her eyes, the stroma behind her retina began to transmute. Where there was a once lovely, deep emerald green, against the backdrop of painful memory and suppressed rage, there was now a sickly, pus-like yellow-to-red color again. Her muscles spasm-ed as she struggled to calibrate the technique properly for herself, but it wasn't a pleasant process, being rudely awakened to the Dark Side. Was it ever?

"MAKE IT STOP!!!! PLEASE!!!", she cried out, tears now strolling down her eyes as almost every unpleasant memory was forcefed back into her conscious memory, and by some ethereal magic refused to un-think itself. She clutched the sides of her head, pressing it against the cold floor as she vainly applied pressure to try and compartmentalize it - to no avail. A small, blue spark of electricity jumped out from one of her knuckles, lightly searing her skin as with one climaxing scream she finally fell silent.

Still on her knees and grasping her temples with her head pressed to the floor, her body seemed to make no movement at all. It was as if she had been turned to stone, and made little more sound than the silent, suppressed weeping under her red locks of hair. And soon enough, she began to whisper as well - as if mimicking the voices in her head, but not necessarily understanding all of it just yet.

 

[Darth Abyss]

"Do not fight it, apprentice."

The sith lord watched as she suffered and as she fell to the ground, haunted by the darkness encased in every ever so small molecule that had waited for them in the ruins. First contact with this side of the force could be taxing on the unprepared mind, especially in a place like this. He could've introduced her to the technique with a more neutral object or place, but the effect would've been lacking, her inner eye only opened the sligh bit. The darkness of the academy on the other hand ripped it open all at once, the power that still lingered to much for a mere acolyte to comprehend instantly. Building contact to the past was different in detail but it still shared many attributes with contact to the future, and once it was accomplished it opened many doors for further exploration of the force.

"Now your mind is open, attuned to the ripples that death, hate and darkness have left behind."

He stepped besides her, lifting a small rock into his hands with use of the force. She probably hadn't yet understood what exactly this skill had to offer, but soon she would. It was one of the few that made him powerful, the one that had always aided him best in his never ending pursuit of more ancient and more obscure knowledge. He brought the stone up in front of his eyes, the fingers of he left wandering of the cold surface like others would hold a lover. History was almost as vibrant and vivid as the day it was written in places like this one.

"Everything has a story to tell, even the smallest stone. All we have to do is listen. Who has touched it in times long by? What has it witnessed when the academy fell apart? Now have the power at your fingertips to find that out by yourself."

He chugged the stone down in front of her, waiting for her to attune herself to the small object. At first she would only see, hear and feel small glimpses, but if she would practice the ability she would be all to follow the trail of the past, from the day it began until the present day. It wasn't a very flashy and impressive application of the force, but it was no less useful. Knowledge was power, and a skill that allowed to find it was valuable to all that carved more power.

[member="Alara Slayn"]

 

[Alara Slayn]

Her sobbing, while soft, was incessant. More than the physical pain, it was the psychic component of being forcefully pried open that was difficult for the young girl to bear. While her face was hidden under her hair, and without a puddle on the ground to offer a reflection, she could feel the head emanating from her eyes. It had felt like steam, but Alara quickly learned to cope. As her new master, [member="Darth Abyss"], continued to offer those perverted words of comfort as he stood high, above and before her, she took what little solace she could in the company of a master, and in the darker, deeper recesses of her mind simply lied to herself that for a moment, however brief, he cared enough to walk her through it. It seemed to be the only coping mechanism to keep herself from igniting her lightsaber right through the thick of her skull.

As he lay the stone down before her, Alara's head quickly tilted upward, in a pathetic display mirroring how a beaten slave would do so. Her hands quickly scrambled for the little rock, which in her mind was beginning to register more as a tablet and a repository as opposed to a plain old clump of Earth. It felt terrifying and seemed like the embodiment of a little girl's every nightmares, but having one small point to focus on felt a lot more manageable than having to listen all around her. She secretly hoped she would never have to do that again, or at least until she was actually ready.

Initially she couldn't really make anything out, and she almost seemed to silently mouth out pleas to the rock, waiting for the voices to kick back in as she had yet to fully master the technique - and indeed it would be a while more. Eventually she did learn to listen though, this time a little more composed. One could observe her occasionally making small gasps, and the expression on her face with eyes intently looking downward and mouth agape suggested that it was as if she were listening to someone whispering directly into her ear. She seemed drifting, lost in a trance-like state as she continued to listen and connect with the spirits. Slowly she fell deeper and deeper into damnation, as Alara's skin began to grow sickly pale and the threads through which her blood ran began to discolor her skin in places where it was thinner.

About a minute in, her head suddenly jolted upward - as if she had either come to a sudden realization, or she was seeing some visage.

"..Marr?.."

 

[Darth Abyss]

Like her he was listing, but without touching her mind he was unable to say exactly what she was able to make out of the whispers that the stone was ready to give away. In a scenario like this it would be to dangerous to extend the dark tendrils of his mind into hers, the combined pressure could be to much for her, break her sanity into a number of small pieces, and that was something he would rather avoid for now. Instead he simply kept a close eye on her, watching her initial struggle, followed by a quick moment of comprehension, the moment she was able to really hear what the stone could offer.

Then her body was struck by a spasms, he head pulled back as something shoot through her body. Then a single word. "Marr". For a second he was convinced that it was a simply a noise born out of pain, but the more he thought about it, the more he became aware what, or rather who she had seen. Visas Marr, the apprentice to the Lord of Hunger, an echo of her still kept intact by the dark side itself, bound to the stone in her hand. He was a firm believer in fate, and as his figure was reminiscent of Nihilus, she was haunted by the image of Marr, which had to mean something, even if he couldn't pinpoint it. She already was his apprentice by now, if she wanted or not, and he had felt some sort of spiritual connection to all that he taught. This had a meaning beyond the simple, twisted bond of master and apprentice they had created in their short time together.

"Tell me apprentice, what did you see? A girl without eyes, shrouded in red?"

Whatever it was, he needed to find out. But it wasn't his own vision, and her skill was still lacking. Yet every small bit was important to him, and so she had to tell him every detail, no matter how nightmarish and terrifying it could have been. Nihilus didn't made into the history books for being a very friendly teacher, and he didn't expected a vision of his apprentice to be a very pretty sight.

[member="Alara Slayn"]

 

[Alara Slayn]

Alara continued to grasp at the stone; her fingers rummaging about its clay surface in the same manner a blind person would. Her eyes looked in the general direction of where [member="Darth Abyss"] was standing, but her haze seemed far off. Her pulsing, yellow eyes seemed hazy as the young girl went through the motions of projecting the events of times long past - replaying even the rawest of memories etched into the surface of the Force as history was written. She sat still on the ground with her legs now crossed, still obviously terrified by the visions but choosing to brave the horrors rather than capitulate.

For a moment she looked up at the Darth, as if for a brief respite the shroud of the Dark Side fell to allow her to see the present again - a comforting look at her master who opened the maw up to her. A tear ran down the side of her face, and just as quick as she snapped back into this reality, she was lost again - her head titled backward, only now she let go of the rock as it now floated before her. Alara's yellow eyes rolled back as her hands dropped from the stone and onto her lap. As her head rocked back forward and Alara's conscionsness moved back and forth in her trance-like state of psychometric projection, she was finally able to answer her master, however in broken fragments.

"I see.. a planet, drained of all life. A wound in the Force, an oblivion ever-consuming. A Miraluka running from the inevitable. A crimson veil, spared as an entire world was consumed by the dark..."

Alara then slowly came to, and in an instant the rock fell into her lap, which she caught with both her hands as she looked up at her master.

"I... felt everything, my master. And yet, I saw nothing. I saw only death, and the oblivion of the lasting silence after."

It was an odd thing to hear her say, considering she was now speaking with a lexicon atypical of a sixteen year-old. She couldn't interpret it in any particular way either, as the deeper meanings behind the imagery and the symbolism seemed to yet elude her young mind. In some strange way, it seemed prophetic yet chillingly haunted. Gradually, Alara's Force signature began to change. Where there was once exuberant youth and restless spirit, there was now only dread. Dread, and the creeping, silence of annihilation.

 

[Darth Abyss]

"What, or rather who you saw was the Lord of Hunger, Darth Nihilus. A sith that rose the power here on Malachor, on the day that it became the wasteland we know today."

She saw cryptic visions, glimpses and fractions of what there truly was to hear, and he possessed the knowledge needed to piece them together. While he didn't revealed it on the outside, he felt satisfaction over all this. Rarely he had meet others that shared his natural talent for the more esoteric applications of the force, and so it found his approval that his new apprentice had just discovered her gift. Maybe she would be better at predicting the future than the past, or even something more obscure, but her path seemed to hold many parallels with his own.

"He became powerful enough to consume entire planets, or rather he was powerful enough to consume the essence of every living thing inhabiting the worlds he ravaged."

Nihilus had always been a great inspiration to him, a man untethered from the chains of his body, nothing but pure intent with the goal to consume all live until the galaxy would've been empty. Not that Abyss hoped that the every live in the galaxy would perish, but the concept of absolute, pure defecation to an idea was something he could connect to on a deep, personal level. Like Nihilus he was plagued by a hunger, neither as strong nor as devastating as that of the ancient sith Lord, but still strong enw to haunt him his every waking hour. Only that he felt it for minds, and knowledge and not for live and essence.

"The miraluka you saw was Visas Marr, who became Nihilus apprentice, exactly like you are now becoming mine."

He turned towards her, towering above the girl on the ground. They already called each other master and apprentice, but now that he understood the vision and what it meant it became clear to him what he had to do. She had the potential to carry his legacy, the potential to strike him down on a day in the far future, and so he had to make sure that she would keep her loyalty to him until that day came.

"I expect absolute loyalty from now on, apprentice. If you have to pretend that it lays elsewhere to trick whoever has taught you to this day, I allow it. Just never forget that I am your true master."

[member="Alara Slayn"]

 

[Alara Slayn]

Alara absently nodded, saying no more as she appeared to caress the rock in her lap with her fingers, like a child with a toy. Mentally she was shattered, and struggled to resist as the Darth now imposed himself upon her. But could she really resist? She had just been split asunder, but that was the necessary cost of being awakened to the awful truths of the galaxy. If anything, she began to rationalize, she should be thankful for the gift - even if the time had not yet come for her to fully appreciate and grasp the doors it opened for her.

Alara's face was now a mess - a sad conflux of sweat, tears and dirt as she looked up at [member="Darth Abyss"]. Resignation was not the appropriate word here, for she could have attempted to make a run for it earlier. She chose to stay by choice - this was an opportunity that graced few - most would be doomed to live and end their lives in degrees of ignorance. Here now, in her soiled but nonetheless intact acolyte's dress, she finally submitted herself to the ruinous powers that be. While for most Sith the Dark Side seemed to imbue vitality-enhancing attributes and flourish them with an appearance of, however corrupted, longevity, for a select few, as it was now for Alara, it took a much darker turn. Perhaps it had to do with each one's psychic predispositions, but either way, logicizing the situation made little difference. The herculean battle fought inside her mind as she was introduced to the art of psychometry left her scarred and deformed. "He had the power to sap entire worlds of their wills", she replied to her master as she took heed of his words. Learning Force abilities around the clock was peachy, but the Path's greatest lessons were always laid out by those who'd gone before - for that she respected Abyss, who seemed to have an excellent grasp of the dark order's history - its personalities, its rises, its falls, its intricacies. "A chorus of souls would cry out his name in fear and hatred every time, and he consumed that essence. "It was.. magnificent."

Alara then rose to her knees as she now lay the rock back down on the ground. Now kneeling on one bended knee before the Darth, she didn't seem quite as before. There was a more sinister quality to her now as, with a piercing, intent-ful stare, she looked up at her new master with her yellow eyes. "I pledge myself to your teachings", she simply responded as her face seemed to express no other emotion than intensity.

 

[Darth Abyss]

"Then Alara Slayn is dead."

She might had made a few steps into the world of the sith, but now, with Abyss as a strict, yet wise master she would be forged into more than just another hungering for the corrupted power the dark side could offer. Under his watchful eyes she would suffer, but she would also flourish, until she was strong enough to stand between the others that called themselves sith.

"To me you will bear no name, until you find a new one."

Not all sith placed importance on names and identity, but Abyss required his apprentices to give up their former live and become a blank slate on which a new picture could be painted, one worthy of the sith. She had to hold on to her pain, her anger and hate, but she had to break free from the attachment it was born from, or else she would always be held back by the memories of the past. Some sith picked a new name when they were named Darth by their Master, others picked one the second they were released from their old live, exactly like Abyss had done.

"This is your new live, your new past, present and future."

He began to walk in a circle around her, his hands clasped on his back, the exact same position his master had used when training him. Both her eyes and her aura showed that even this little lesson had already brought her far closer to the darkness, and soon the pain and confusion would be replaced by the empowerment, the addictive euphoria that came when filling the body with sheer endless energy. There was little doubt in his head that this girl would one day become a sith that would rival his own power.

"Rise apprentice, your training has just begun."

OOC

Spoiler

So I feel like this would be a good point to end this thread and continue her training in another, but the decision is up to you lol.

[member="Alara Slayn"]