Fallen Phoenix
Aboard the Vhailor, the personal ship of Sith Knight Kära Vi'dreya, sat the Ashborn in a meditative stance upon the floor of his chambers. Like it had for a while now, his mind was in disarray; visions of what seemed to be his past flashed before his eyes more often than he would have liked, interrupting his thoughts and actions. He had been trained in assassination by one of the best, yet how could he hope to accomplish such a delicate act with running the risk of having his mind giving up on him? It brought his thoughts to his beloved Queen, who he regarded above all other beings - she was his reason to exist, and should he fail to protect her from the killing blow his life would be forfeit. But now, another one had entered his life, opening the doors to further understanding of himself, yet simultaniously to futher insanity, it seemed. Little @[member="Sin Lykos"], the young boy discovered by his master on Coruscant and now being taught the ways of the Sith and the Force, had sparked further memories of old within the mind of the Ashborn. Pain mixed with understanding; the more he managed to make out of the images the more his inner, chaotic self tormented him, wishing the images gone for good. A vicious circle, one which was to either ensure complete understanding of his past, or utterly destroy him.
He had removed his protective shell, being his armour, and placed the inter-locking pieces of it to rest against the wall opposite of himself. He was naked once again after a long time, and all the soot and ashes trailed off of him whenever he would move about the room. Snapping out of yet another disrupted meditative session, his two glowing eyes lit up as he opened them. A quick glance down to examine his hands and forearms, their fiery-red veins visible through the layers of ashes comprising his entire being, made him regret waking up at all. As much as he wished to be out of his suit, to set eyes upon the monstrosity that was his true nature proved difficult. His hands falling back down to rest against his thighs, Thyrian lifted his gaze slightly only to be met by the cold, dead stare of the mask of his armour resting against the opposite wall. As the Ashborn slowly came to life after having meditated for hours on end - his body resembling that of a charred corpse when meditating, with no veins visible - he rose up from the floor just as his body was set aflame, with calm, entrancing tongues licking the immidiate area around him. His chambers had been secured to withstand any heat he could muster, but it was hard to say if even a normal floor would be set ablaze by the weak flames surrounding him. For now, Thyrian was in control, and he would not wish his master's ship damaged by the malice of his inner self. His back was turned towards the door, which was closed, but not locked.
He had removed his protective shell, being his armour, and placed the inter-locking pieces of it to rest against the wall opposite of himself. He was naked once again after a long time, and all the soot and ashes trailed off of him whenever he would move about the room. Snapping out of yet another disrupted meditative session, his two glowing eyes lit up as he opened them. A quick glance down to examine his hands and forearms, their fiery-red veins visible through the layers of ashes comprising his entire being, made him regret waking up at all. As much as he wished to be out of his suit, to set eyes upon the monstrosity that was his true nature proved difficult. His hands falling back down to rest against his thighs, Thyrian lifted his gaze slightly only to be met by the cold, dead stare of the mask of his armour resting against the opposite wall. As the Ashborn slowly came to life after having meditated for hours on end - his body resembling that of a charred corpse when meditating, with no veins visible - he rose up from the floor just as his body was set aflame, with calm, entrancing tongues licking the immidiate area around him. His chambers had been secured to withstand any heat he could muster, but it was hard to say if even a normal floor would be set ablaze by the weak flames surrounding him. For now, Thyrian was in control, and he would not wish his master's ship damaged by the malice of his inner self. His back was turned towards the door, which was closed, but not locked.