Phantom of Death
Kasir walked beside the girl, unhurried, for the night was young. It wasn't long before the cacophony that consumed the Concourse became background noise. His presence swallowed the Felacatian’s words without hesitation, like darkness greedily consuming light without reflection. Somewhere along the way, the twitch of her claws was registered, but this was just another tremor the Darkseeker had learned to read like a map. A year of her company provided all the instinctual insight one might require. He too, was still occasionally fighting battles within.
Just ahead, he could see flickers from alchemical items that were suspended from the air. With every step closer, Kasir felt a growing ripples, like cold hands skimming along the walls of the Arcane Court. He was well versed when it came to the steady hum of the Force, but these sensations were different, scraping at his consciousness. He chose to ignore it, for now. Without turning, he continued from earlier. “I only measure you against who you were yesterday,” he said, eyes fixed ahead. “I do not desire to shape you to become another.. but only in ways that you can survive as yourself.”
As they ventured further, figures began to emerge from the shadows, their faces veiled beneath hoods. In any other situation, or event, this would have set off a warning in his mind. The only other time he had been among so many Sith was under the eye of Wonosa, but even then, his role was different. In between missions, moments of freedom were granted, and seldom did he choose their company.
In a way that was now alien to him, the Force resonated like a beating heart. But it offered no comfort, but only memory instead.
His undead senses were teased by a surge of blood. The scent was overwhelming. His jaw clenched against the tension, muscles tightening in a controlled restraint. Slowly, his stance shifted, as though he were trying to ease Soah into the view. Stares from every corner turned. He found it rather peculiar, at first, how this place seemed to be absent of visitors; in truth, the Sith could see why it carried no appeal. But he knew its importance. Here, she might find sustenance of her own, just as he had found purpose and meaning in guiding her.
Through the shadows, he caught sight of a blood oath ritual in one corner; it was an unwelcoming sight of crimson stains. In another, an artifact gleamed under intense red lighting. And not far from there, there was a Holocron, which pulled his thoughts back to a time where they traveled to Malachor V.
Standing there, the Darkseeker was given vision, not of his own doing.. a predator without teeth. He saw himself as a child, alone amidst the cruel streets of Dromuund Kas, all family ties gone, and desperate for survival.
Finally, he prepared to take a step back, so that she may go forward. "You're not prey here," he murmured, a quiet vow to remind her she was not alone.
Here, in the darkness, his own flaws began to reveal themselves.
