The Crimson Throne

[ToKola Bakari]

Morradon~The Royal Palace~The Center of Velociton​

​

Cold, depraved eyes looked over the ash covered city of Velociton. There was an especially cruel glare that came from those azure eyes. One so contemptuous that you would never guess it came from a man who had lived surrounded by the city for the entirety of his life.

Gael stood on the balcony to his room, maintaining a silent watch as he listened to the piercing noises that the city produced.

The roaring lava, the soft echoes of metal banging against metal, the beautiful uproar of production.

As Gael looked over the sight he could not help but feel a mixed sense of pride and disgust. Crowned Prince of Morradon he peered out over his birthright, knowing one day he could use it to create power and respect unlimited. The disdain came from his father, the man who had breathed life into a son who he viewed as nothing more than a half-bred disappointment.

You who sits on a throne of blood and fire, yet commands nothing. You who was given the power of molten rock and forged steel, yet remains silent in the galaxy. You who is granted power, but allows it to dwindle away. You dare call me a disappointment. His words never found voice, yet as he thought them he parted the locked hair from his face, revealing a growing scowl that seemed to find it's roots deep within.

The Sithling stepped back from his place on the balcony, his hands finding home in the comforts of his ash-shaded cloak. He turned back towards his quarters, running one of his elongated nails across the metallic threshold as he made his entrance. The boy's room was by no extent, modest. On Morradon the finest of metals had been preserved for the use of the Royal Palace. The elegant, gothic, interior would surely draw the eye to any who was not used to such scenery. His eyes fell over his unmade bed, large enough to fit four of him in it, comfortably.

Leaning against his wall was a blade, savage in appearance, as black as the darkest cavern on Morradon. His hand wrapped around the weapon, taking it into his hands as he tested it's weight.

A weapon he forged for himself, it would do the deed of defending him, for now. He placed the weapon back where he had found it, glancing down at the lightsaber that hung from his waist. A much less elegant weapon, but far easier to transport.

Gael made his way out of the room and into the hall, his eyes scanning over the dark interior closely as he moved about. The young prince ventured off into the Palace courtyard, feeling a session of meditation may cool his raised ire.

 

[Xadorn]

An alien trapped on an alien world… These words rang true in Xadorn’s mind as he sat at a table surrounded by the other ‘advisors’ of the current Lord. There was no diversity among the group, nothing but Dathari surrounded the lone Falleen. They may not voice their dislike of his kind yet Xadorn could feel it, he knew the animosity was there. He was not one of them, how dare he sit at the grand table, a green skinned alien among themselves. The notion nearly brought a smile to Xadorn’s lips, nearly… Falleen were not like humans, they did not let their emotions show on the surface, less it give them some advantage in their own manipulations. The Dathari in this room were of no threat to him, they knew the abilities of Xandor, they’d come to know them well all those years ago when the Falleen had accidentally wandered into Velociton. Half starved, downtrodden, and yet still more than capable of dispatching the finest guards that were brought to bear against himself.

Reaching out and clasping the goblet filled with an elegant wine Xadorn swirled it, his freshly manicured nails shining in the light as his reflection was visible in the crimson liquid. All he could hear were the constant mumblings of the Dathari in the Sith language, on and on they went. Speaking of the future, of the arms they had created, yet these pitiful creatures lacked ambition. They couldn’t see the boon they’d been granted, one of the finest forges in the galaxy powered by the force, and yet here they sat crafting weapons, technology and the like that would never see the light of day. Such a waste… Xadorn thought. Raising the goblet to his lips the Falleen let the cool liquid coat his tongue in the slightly bitter flavor and eventually descend down his throat. There was a slight warming sensation but nothing more. For the past forty-five years, Xandor had been trapped on this world, not due to being unable to leave. He could just as easily return to the surface and utilize his ship to leave the damned planet yet there was a reason he stayed.

What the Dathari hoarded among themselves could change the galaxy, the tides of an entire galactic war, they could build the finest armament the galaxy had ever seen. It was only due to the current and past Lord’s that it hasn’t happened as of yet. But soon there would be a change. Rising from his seat goblet still in hand Xandor looked out the glass windows and down to the courtyard below. A Falleen’s eyes were sharp, their vision far greater than that of a humans’ and down in the courtyard there stood none other than the young prince. Xandor had been around since long before the children were born and after their birth, he had remained a constant in their life. Offering advice when he could, and bonding with them. They were all alike, aliens on this world, filled with ambition and of a noble birth. Those children could bring a great change to this world, and then to the galaxy, all it took was a small push.

“Dismissed.” Raising a hand and making a shooing motion Xandor influenced the Dathari in the chamber through a slight exertion of pheromones that filled the air. It didn’t bend them completely to Xandor’s will as then they’d be more likely to notice his manipulations, no it was a small subtle effect, his words had been a dismissal and the pheromones would make them more agreeable. With no hesitation, the Dathari rose leaving the chambers with a scuffling of feet. Now, to go see the children…

[member="Gael Addock"]

 

[Enara]

[SIZE=11pt]The courtyard would not have inspired peace to most in the galaxy. It featured obsidian stone which matched the black, gothic structure that loomed behind it, the Royal Palace which sat high above the subterranean city of Velociton. Lava from the planet’s nearby core oozed from the cavern’s rough stone walls, forming rivers and lakes of the molten earth. This same semi-liquid flowed into the courtyard in carefully constructed canals, bridges allowed the residents to cross over them carefully. Seraphina sat on a tiny island, it seemed to float in the center of a small pool of magma. There were no bridges to the small island, and yet she there she sat, still enough to be mistaken for a statue. She spent several hours in the deep meditative state every morning, in the distance she could hear the faint, phantom screams coming from the Dark Forge. The spirits of those slain in its construction constantly cried out in their shrill voices to her and everyone else with ears to hear. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]But there was a nearer sound also, throne of blood and fire, the words stood out to her in the jumble of thoughts rising up from the city. Gael’s thoughts cut through the background noise, the bond of siblinghood enhancing her natural, Force fueled, telepathy. She could feel a darkness present in her brother’s mind, power of molten rock… silent… power… dwindled away. He was coming. Presumably to meditate, though it was possible he was seeking her out. She would know soon enough. Even from here she could feel the anger in that had been born and nourished in her brother’s soul, directed at their father. She shared his disdain for the man, but the disdain in her own soul was a mere ember compared to the blazing intensity of Gael’s. She wasn’t the only one in the Palace who could sense her brother’s malevolent intentions [/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]Her thoughts drifted back to her father. The man had been as a god to her as a girl. His sharp gaze had terrified her. Once, when she was seven years old, he had summoned her to the Dark Forge. He demanded a demonstration of what she had been learning. She was terrified. He had ambiguously demanded that she learn something ‘worthwhile.’ She could remember standing there before him, his eyes burning into her as he waited expectantly. Unsure of what to do, she remembered panicking as if falling into a deep abyss before ultimately producing a single bolt of malevolent energy. Anywhere else it would have made her prodigy. Before her father, it meant nothing. Her serene expression was jeopardized for the briefest of moments as she recalled him turning his glare towards her. It was like the weight of the world was suddenly on her shoulders and crushed her. She collapsed before him, groveling for forgiveness, trembling at the prospect of punishment. He didn’t strike her- in the moment she had misconstrued the gesture as mercy. He simply stood and left, it was nearly a year before she saw him again after that failure. Somehow that had been the most grievous thing of all. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]She pushed those thoughts from her mind, returning them to the secret vault deep in her soul where she kept those and countless other equally devastating recollections. It had taken this long to learn, but she knew now that those sufferings were held the potential to unlock power beyond even her most magnificent ambitions. Her father’s cruelty proved to be his greatest gift. And for that she still admired him. She could sense Gael approaching the courtyard, his presence drifting closer like storm clouds on the horizon, threatening a dust storm of epic proportions. She opened his eyes just as he stepped into the courtyard, her blue eyes locking on him almost immediately. She rose from her position with all the poise and elegance demanded of one born to her station. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]“Elder Brother,”[/SIZE][SIZE=11pt] her voice was soft and sing-songy and she spoke so gently that those around her had to lean in to hear her clearly. The sight of him brought a sweet smile, a sharp contrast with the hellish landscape surrounding her. [/SIZE][SIZE=11pt]“Your aura is strong today, Brother,” [/SIZE][SIZE=11pt]she commented in the same, inviting tone. She moved towards him, stepping without fear off of the small island, her foot was caught immediately by a wispy shadow that appeared from nowhere, preventing her heel frim being singed. She continued without breaking pace towards her brother, another shadow appearing to catch her foot with every step. As she came back onto the cobble stone of the she frowned for a fleeting moment, [/SIZE][SIZE=11pt]“Your aura is also dark,” [/SIZE][SIZE=11pt]she said almost sadly. She came alongside him and wrapped one arm around one of his and rested her head on his shoulder. [/SIZE][SIZE=11pt]“Tell me, Brother,” [/SIZE][SIZE=11pt]she whispered, barely audible over the clanging of metal in the city below, [/SIZE][SIZE=11pt]“what darkens your mind this day?” [/SIZE]

[SIZE=14.6667px]Before her brother could respond she felt a trimer in the Force as someone turned their eyes towards them, she reached out with the Force and traced the gaze back to its source. She tasted ambition, isolation, haughty pride. She was familiar with the complicated mixture, far too complex to be a mere Dathari, but without the potent hatefulness that emanated from her father. Xadorn. She turned the gentle blue glow of her irises towards the tall approaching figure and offered him a smile only slightly cooler than that she afforded to her brother. [/SIZE]"Xadorn," [SIZE=14.6667px]the alien was not as susceptible to her charm as the other handful of species she had encountered over the years. [/SIZE] "Welcome. Please," she waved invitingly with her free arm while keeping the other around her brother, "join us."

 

[ToKola Bakari]

The prince had always maintained an elegant stride, befitting of his title and station if not his "unworthy" blood. As his timber shaded boots connected with the refined stone that was laid beneath his feet he set off a soft tapping, easily drowned out by the uproar of the city around him.

His pale hands came up to his face, once again parting his lackluster hair from his eyes. He pulled a strand of the hair from the side of his face, glancing at it absently before a soft smile formed over his lips. He could hear the words of his father echoing through his mind as he toyed with the hair.

Were you to shave your head you may hold some semblance to a full-blooded Dathari.

The scornful words had been spoken on multiple occasions, reminding the boy of his tainted blood. Yet Gael's response remained the same every time, as if expected of him.

I am so much more than a full-blooded Dathari. The thought of his open insolence to his father continued to lift his spirits. It was nearly astounding to think that once the boy had vied for his father's approval, for the hand on the shoulder claiming Gael as his son and rightful heir. Yet it never came, and over time that childish prospect died.

A soft voice, much like what Gael believed the winds of a spring morning would sound like, called over the courtyard to him. His azure eyes took to the source of that voice, finding his sister's presence in it's place. A warming, almost serene, smile came to his face to replace the bitter smirk that had held dominance over his expression.

The one true beauty of Morradon, his younger sister, Seraphina. She was truly the treasure of the world, and the only real family Gael had ever had. Her words were often like honey, sweet and sticking to the boy regardless of his own wishes. To hear her comment on his aura and the sadness her tone took gave him a reason to recover his thoughts. "My aura is always strong, my sister." He said, placing a caring hand on the side of her face in greeting. "As it is always dark." He added in a softer tone.

She was able to see through him as if he was made of glass, it never ceased to amaze him. "I-" He paused, his sister's expression changing as he felt her sense shift away from him. The link the two shared was a true gift, feeding of of each others emotions and senses as if they were their own. His eyes averted their gaze to see the contrasting green skin of Xadron, stepping into the courtyard with the two. His sister openly invited the Falleen to the courtyard, bringing no grief to Gael as he often speaking with the man.

The Falleen had seen much and his time and could often entertain the siblings with anecdote's of his travels away from the hellish Morradon. While Gael had a primal love for his planet he often felt trapped in a loop of inefficiency that caused him to wish for freedom, but he always knew his place was here, on the throne of ash and fire. "Yes, join us." He added, escorting his sister towards the adviser.

"Tell me, you are my father's chief adviser, has he broken words on when I am to take the throne?" His words were blunt and held the power of over two decades. For the past five years his father had denied his heir the throne, even though the elder Dathari had been nearly half his son's age when he was given the power of the Dark Forge from Gael's estranged grandfather.

​"Or does he simply wish for me to join the Voktari in harvesting karking stone and metal?" He said, cogitation showing itself in his tone.

[member="Seraphina Addock"] [member="Xadorn"]

 

[Xadorn]

Hands tucked at the small of his back Xadorn strolled through the courtyard, his elegant Byzantium purple robes flowing over the darkened stone. There was no sound as Xadorn approached, each step slow, calculated, and measured. Every action the Falleen took was devised, each move leading into a more elegant plan. Often times Xadorn did not even realize he did such things, it was as natural to his life as working in the forges was to the Dathari. Looking to the children the side of Xadorn’s lips curled in what was the ghost of a smile. This was probably the closest to genuine emotion that a Falleen could show and even then, this was just due to Xadorn knowing he wasn’t the only one that didn’t quite feel at one with the Dathari people.

The grey eyes of Xadorn fell on the young siblings as he neared, the grey in them matching that of a storm clouds which the children had probably never seen in their lives being raised beneath the surface of Morradon. Xadorn had accomplished a considerable number of things in his life, witnessed things the children could only dream about, and he shared these stories with them ever since their youth. Despite being in his eighties Xadorn was still young in comparison to others of his species. Glancing between the two, Xadorn gave a curt nod of his head in greeting. The children seemed to be more than accepting of the alien, more so than the full-blooded Dathari who Xadorn could still find cutting their eyes in his direction. “I did not mean to interrupt, I often find the walks through the courtyard calming… Can you not hear it?” Stopping and tilting his head Xadorn listened to the clangs of hammer on steel, of the sounds of materials being processed. If they were in the lower portions of Velociton the sounds would be unbearable, yet from the highest portion of the city it was like an orchestra.

Oh, young Gael, the poor boy... Such ambition, such strength, that flame that burns within him. I know it all too well. If he were born a Falleen, Gael would’ve fit perfectly into the culture. Xadorn thought as he listened to the young noble’s questions, how the boy wished to sit upon the throne, to possess the power the title granted, to escape the forsaken world. This boy was the future of Morradon… His sister on the other hand. She was frightening, Seraphina’s abilities in the force were prodigious, Xadorn had borne witness to her abilities since she was but a toddler and was glad his people were immune to the mental manipulations of the force as he feared nothing more than becoming a puppet of them young woman in the future. Any truly cautious being would, plus no one wanted another prying around in their mind.

“Gael…” Breathing heavily Xadorn strolled past the two to stand at the edge of the courtyard, he stared out at Velociton, he felt the waves of heat wash over his body. “Your father is a man of greed, he craves power yet he possesses neither the ambition or guile necessary to bring your people to prominence. He wishes to not secede from his position, he craved it, strived for it… I fear your father will sit on the throne as long as he goes unchallenged.” Turning on his heels to face the children Xadorn let a small inkling of disappointment fill his eyes, his skin changing from the seafoam green to a bluish-gray to emphasize the emotion.

“I fear that your father plans to be rid of you two… I can’t in good conscious let such a thing happen. The lesser advisors whisper in his ears, how you aren’t truly his heirs, he’s come to the point of denying your births… He could care less about either of you, he’ll never see you as the true heir Gael, nor will he recognize your abilities Seraphina. I swear not a single hair on your precious heads will be touched so long as I live.”

[member="Gael Addock"] [member="Seraphina Addock"]

 

[Enara]

[SIZE=11pt]“You brood too much, dear Brother.” [/SIZE][SIZE=11pt]A small laugh escaped her lips, a melodious, inviting sound. [/SIZE][SIZE=11pt]“Tell me,”[/SIZE][SIZE=11pt] she whined, tightening her grip on his arm ever so slightly to emphasize her point, [/SIZE][SIZE=11pt]“what’s occupies your thoughts?”[/SIZE][SIZE=11pt] He had only just begun to respond when she felt his thoughts shift to the alien, Xadron, while she had grown to enjoy the alien’s presence over the years, but her brother intended to use his advent as an excuse to avoid her question, and this brought a small pout to her face. Still, pouting wouldn’t help and so she too turned her attention to the new arrival.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]“It’s always a pleasure to see you Councilor,” [/SIZE][SIZE=11pt]she returned his dim smile with one not as restrained, another giggle at the sight of him, he was such a stoic person that even the smallest hint of positive emotion expressed on his face brought a little joy to her. It was also a necessary hint at his inner thoughts, he was the only person she had ever encountered who she simply couldn’t read very well. The Dathari whispered that, near Seraphina, there were no secrets. The thoughts of others flowed freely into her mind, but not with this alien man. It made him something of a mystery and a frustration, but it also meant that she was perpetually intrigued by the man. [/SIZE][SIZE=11pt]“You always are dressed so beautifully, Councilor. Your home world must be a dizzying display of beauty.”[/SIZE][SIZE=11pt] She pondered for a moment what, precisely, the man meant by ‘it.’ In the distance, she could still hear the screams of the damned coming from the Forge, and she could hear what sounded like the tides of a sea below as millions of Dathari thought and worked, but she was unsure which of these many sounds he was referencing and so she simply allowed it to pass unremarked upon.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]Her focus was caught by the sudden thoughts crashing through her brother’s head, they came too quickly for her to hear clearly without listening more intently than she was inclined to do. Besides, it was unnecessary- the lust for power and unbridled ambition seemed to radiate from him and soon he began to speak, inquiring about when their father would relinquish power. Even without being able to sense the exile’s thoughts she knew the answer- never. And Gael knew it too. Even in the midst of his words she never detected even a hint of hopefulness in his soul. She tilted her head slightly as the advisor responded, listening carefully to his comments. She didn’t appreciate the words he chose to describe her father, despite the fact that even she wouldn’t object to their truthfulness. Her eyes narrowed when he suggested that their father intended to kill her, however. Renewed frustration at the challenge to read the man filled her as she failed to feel anything from him- deceit or genuineness, though there may have been the tiniest pang of disappointment present in his mind.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]Gael had given up long ago on ever pleasing their father, that was an ability- or perhaps a gift- that she had never learned. Even today, she pushed herself beyond all limits in a desperate race to earn his approval, or at the very least to escape his hatred, before the flame of father’s life force was finally extinguished. She could sense her brother’s thought, they were thick with stubbornness directed at the Lord of the Forge, his emotions rippled through the Force ever so slightly, but enough for her to perceive them. If she had ever believed that something as simple as shaving her head would have earned her the acceptance of her father, her locks would have been gone many years ago. But he had never asked. As his heir, father had always been more focused on Gael- something which made her envy and respect her brother in equal measure. But he was as aware of the boy’s dark ambitions as she was herself.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]It had not yet been a year since he had summoned her to the Dark Forge early in the morning. She remembered the summons well as it was one of only three times she had stepped foot into the inner sanctum of the greatest Forge in all the galaxy. He had spoken to her with dark whispers. She had always been the more powerful of his children, he assured her. She, not Gael, had devoted her life towards achieving his approval. The Dathari was becoming paranoid in his old age, and believed Gael was plotting his demise. If, however, he advised her- if she were to assist him. If she were to strike Gael down, she would inherit the Forge. He promised to teach her everything he knew, and more than that, he promised her his affection. If he had approached her with the same offer seven, five years earlier, she would have made an attempt on Gael’s life at once. But she was not the same little girl anymore. While her longing for his approval had never wavered, her strength in the Force had grown exponentially over that period. She could feel the deceit. He cared not for her and, while his promises were sweet, they were only- for him- a means to an end. That end being the elongation of his own reign. She had left without answering him and had never told her brother what their father had offered her that morning. It would serve only to strain their relationship further.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt] “Dear Xadron,” [/SIZE][SIZE=11pt]she said softly when the exile concluded his comments. [/SIZE][SIZE=11pt]“Your sentiments are welcomed and appreciated, you know that we admire your steadfast faithfulness to us.”[/SIZE][SIZE=11pt] Her voice was so gentle that it was difficult to hear, her eyes expressed a sense of sadness at the accusation. [/SIZE][SIZE=11pt]“Father has refused to praise my abilities because I have yet to master anything deserving of his praise,”[/SIZE][SIZE=11pt] she even mostly believed this. [/SIZE][SIZE=11pt]“Father is advancing in years and maybe more easily persuaded than he might have been in his youth. But he knows that Gael,” [/SIZE][SIZE=11pt]she moved closer to her brother as she spoke, [/SIZE][SIZE=11pt]“is the one true heir to the Dark Forge. There is none other who can keep the Forge operating. He knows that, and no number of scheming Dathari could ever dissuade him from this reality.”[/SIZE][SIZE=11pt] She turned to her brother, now she was close enough to him that she could be heard with her voice barely louder than a whisper. [/SIZE][SIZE=11pt]“With your blessing, I’ll go and speak to Father, surely this is nothing more than a gross misunderstanding.” [/SIZE]

 

[ToKola Bakari]

Gael had often recounted to his sister his interest and general appreciation for his father's High Councilor. In a few ways, in many ways, they were rather similar. Both had ambitions that rose far above the mundane industry of the Forge and both were sectioned away from the Dathari populace as if carries of a plague. However, the Falleen had a unique talent that Gael only wished to posses, the ability to manipulate others through his pheromones. As a boy Gael often requested the viridescent adviser to use his pheromones as a source of entertainment for the young prince. He was often denied the amusement, but there were a few times where Xadorn had indulged him. The Dathari prince listened to Xadorn's utterance on the sounds that surrounded the palace and he could only meet the alien with a knowing smile. Another pleasantry shared by the two, their appreciation of the near-melodic sounds that erupted from Velociton.

As always his sister was the light in the darkness. Complementing Xadorn's prepossessing clothing that set him apart from all others, even the royal family. A motion of adjustment was made to his own cloak as he glanced down to the alluring material that covered his body. The two were of a different taste when it came to coloration, of that there was no denial.

Xadorn spoke out, informing Gael of his father's opposition to the young boy finally taking his place on the throne. How could there be any surprise from such information? It had been a statement the boy had lived out his entire life practically waiting to hear.

You're too brash.

You do not yet possess the mental fortitude to take the role of King.

More time on the Forge will give you the discipline needed to rule.

You still think like a human, boy.

The negatively enforcing words of his father were spilled into his mind as his anger came to a calm peak. For seven years the old man had denied Gael, his one true heir, his right to the throne. And now he would deny it indefinitely? Again, there should be no surprise. A contemptuous smile spread over Gael's face as he closed his eyes, recalling every scornful remark and redirecting comment his father had ever given him. As Gael thought of it, it made sense, did it not? His father's strength had begun to wane, while Gael's rose in abundance. Where his father once commanded the full power of the Forge it was already beginning to recognize Gael as it's true master. The power the King once drew from the Forge was slowly being siphoned to the prince, and they were both conscious of it. As he dipped himself into the nether of the Dark Side, listening to the swirling emotions and screaming presence that it drew, he could see something that he could not see before he submersed himself.

A light which once had been like fire....was now a small flicker, no longer capable of providing the power necessary to create the monstrous inferno needed to utilize the true power of the Forge.

The twisting nether ceased as Gael's eyes came open, bringing him back to the realm of the existing. "My father..." He begun. A soft chuckle echoed through out the courtyard, again it was quickly drowned out by the uproar that sang from Velociton. "My father...can no longer use the Dark Forge. I have foreseen it. It calls to me." He said, his chuckle growing into a humorous laugh. However, he was pulled from his spirits upon hearing the news that Xadorn had given the two of them. The news of his father's plot to breath death into his children was also something that came with no large amount of surprise. They were his greatest mistakes and most haunting achievement in mirrored unison, why would he wish them to remain in his light? Yet the aged man had grown old, and his children remained young and powerful. Gael listened to the soothing voice his sister maintained as she spoke to their Falleen adviser, yet her words were as predictable as ever.

"I would enjoy seeing that old fool try." Gael sounded, making no added remarks as he glanced down to his younger sibling. Her words were of peace and steadiness of the hand. Two things that the prince was known to be expertly lacking in. As she spoke he closed his eyes, making an expression of uncertainty. Her words were sound yet he did not trust the desperation that seemed to be exuded from their father.

"Sera." He said in an apprehensive tone. "Father has a soft spot for you, we know this. Yet I fear he will harm you in an attempt to get to me." He pointed out, placing a hand on his sister's shoulder before glancing up to the barren ceiling of rock and stone that made up Velociton's sky. Finally his gaze came back down to his pleading sister, finding it harder to deny her when they were joined by vision. "Very well. But you must take Xadorn with you, I will not leave you without proper guard." The older brother placed himself in front of his sister, a soft, yet protective hand placed on either of her shoulders. "If he places a single hand on you, I will flay him upon the very throne he so wishes to protect." He said, turning his attention back to Xadorn. "There are few I can trust with my life, fewer with Seraphina's. Do not make my list grow shorter, Councilor."

[member="Seraphina Addock"] [member="Xadorn"]

 

[Xadorn]

“Oh Seraphina, you are far too kind my dear. Not many would be willing to accept one of my people so readily…” Eyes moving to Seraphina taking her in Xadorn watched her giggle, was that just a ploy? Was it genuine? It had become difficult for Xadorn to tell as he watched the young girl grow into a woman. Seraphina had a wit and sharp tongue to match the finest of politicians. Her skills in verbal fencing so skilled that she could utterly destroy one with a few words. That took a true talent, Xadorn admired Seraphina for that skill and feared her due to it. All at the same time. “My world…” Reiterating the words Xadorn had to stop looking to the ground. Thinking about Falleen, about the events surrounding his exile, it brought a pang to the Falleen’s chest. He hadn’t explained to the children why he’d abandoned his homeworld but this simply cemented the fact of how dangerous Seraphina was without even meaning to be so. “My world was beautiful, the skies were most brilliant of blues, it was a marvel that matched the splendor of Coruscant, more amenities than Correllia, and a landscape to match the fields of Naboo. The wind stood fair, the nights were perfect... It truly was a beauty.” The planet names possibly meant nothing to the children besides what tales Xadorn and other off-worlders brought to them but they were more so for Xadorn.

Standing there Xadorn paid attention to every move Seraphina made, each action was a symbol, it spoke magnitudes about the woman as she clung to her brother. She was the angel on Gael’s shoulder, they were more important to each other than any sum of riches the galaxy could offer. Despite the power that could be theirs if they struck down the other they stood as one. It was a beautiful sight… And concerning to know one was so close to the heir and had his ear. So, when Seraphina’s eyes narrowed Xadorn took note of it, his words may have been offensive and if overhead could even be considered treason to the more rambunctious or overly patriotic. Hands coming from behind his back to tuck into the opposing robes of his sleeves, a stance many politicians and jedi alike took.

Seraphina’s dependence on her father’s approval, the cravings she felt. Xadorn knew her better than she could ever know. He came from a house of noble birth, he had numerous siblings, each one striving for their parent’s approval, to be seen as the proper heir, to be congratulated. Even the most insignificant of praises was enough to make the Falleen’s day. His heart fluttered, his skin would shift, and he’d be at peace. “No… No Seraphina.” Withdrawing his hand from his sleeve Xadorn reached out to stroke a strand of hair from Seraphina’s face with one of his well-manicured nails, it was gentle and upon touching her silken skin she’d feel the cool nail brush against her. “You have done so much, your abilities have done nothing but grow since you were a child… They exceed that of the finest of your father’s guard. Right now, I bet you can feel the force itself calling out to you… You can, can’t you? You feel so alert that time feels like it means nothing when you’re one with the force. I have watched you grow, and if your father can’t acknowledge what you’ve become I will. You are more powerful than you could ever imagine.” Words of praise could be seen as contemptible or just as a ploy yet each word of Xadorn’s held weight. Each one was driven with emphasis as one would a nail with a hammer. Hand moving away from Seraphina, Xadorn would turn back to Gael not forgetting about the young man.

Gael needed no inspiration, his ambition and pride already soared so high and could one day reach the sun… “And you Gael, right now you can run faster, fight harder, jump higher than ever in your life before with your abilities. Yes, you draw on the forge but there is so much more you can learn.” Taking a step back and opening his arms Xadorn continued to speak. “Alone one day you’ll be able to move mountains on your own, have powers to bring civilizations low. But together, you two will be able to do so much more. The galaxy will quake before your power! Even now together your father wouldn’t be able to match your might as you stand together.”

“I thank you for your trust Gael, but it is not me who should be with your sister.” Putting a hand on each of their shoulders and bowing his head for emphasis Xadorn spoke. “ It’s you. Did I ever tell you the story of the Shattered Prince?” This was a rhetorical question, Xadorn had never told this story to anyone, not on Morradon at the very least.

Beginning the story without waiting for an answer Xadorn released their shoulders beginning to pace to and for his robes billowing behind him. “The shattered prince, a young boy from a world oh so far away, and who lived long ago… As the name implies he was a prince to one of the most prestigious families on his world, he had it all. Riches, fame, power, it was all there. He became complacent, he never knew fear, all he knew was love in those days. He cared for his family more than anything, yet it took only one moment of indecision, one moment of sparing a foe and everything he ever knew came crashing down. His home brought low, his parents, siblings, his entire lineage wiped out in a single bombardment… What had once been the brightest light of his family emerged from the rubble as a great darkness. He came to be known as “The coming storm” And when he struck those who wronged him he brought such ruination upon his foes that naught but ashes and dust remained… He’d won, the world was his. Yet what was it worth when you had no one to share it with? When you lost everything you cared about and even lost yourself in the following destruction? Nothing... They say the boy left his world to never return.”

Throughout the story Xadorn kept his pace even, his tone the same and his eyes on the black tile beneath their feet not a single emotion revealed on his face till the story neared its middle, a bit of perspiration built up but as quickly as he’d turned to pace back the building water was gone. “The moral of the story is that even a moment of indecision can cause you to lose everything… Do not make my-“ Catching himself Xadorn stopped clearing his throat with a cough. “Don’t make the prince’s mistake. Stand together, do what you must and I will stand alongside you.”

[member="Seraphina Addock"] [member="Gael Addock"]

 

[Enara]

[SIZE=11pt]The girl listened to the description and nodded serenely, [/SIZE][SIZE=11pt]“a lovely planet. You will have to take me on a tour sometime,” [/SIZE][SIZE=11pt]she assured him. A small laugh escaped her as she a thought crossed her minds, [/SIZE][SIZE=11pt]“and the rest of the planets you mentioned also.”[/SIZE][SIZE=11pt] A slight rose overtook her cheeks as he expounded on her abilities, she was supremely unaccustomed to praise and was never certain how to respond to it. She demurred when asked if she could hear the Force- it had become a comforting, familiar comfortable ambient sounds, present in every scene of life. She moved her hand to touch the alien’s as the cool nail pressed against her, her skin was soft and cool- practically frigid compared to the boiling atmosphere native to Morradon. Though she said nothing, she did meet the man’s eyes, and her thanks for his words were expressed clearly there. Behind her eyes, hidden away from his powers of observation, she was frustrated by the silence of his mind to her. She could never be certain of his intentions, but beyond that she had no grounds to question his sincerity. Loyalty did not have to stem from the heart to be genuine. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]She leaned in as he told her tale. The Shattered Prince, the words floated around in her mind as she listened carefully to each and every word. If she couldn’t sense the man’s feelings, she would have to detect them through more traditional means. The story was interesting, and the conclusion somber. She processed it slowly- the man’s mistake was that he did not have a confidant to advise him. He allowed his lust for vengeance drive him and he lost himself in the process. Precisely the fate she feared her brother would suffer. Though his lust would be for power, not vengeance. And then he slipped, the word ‘my’ rang in her mind, pulling the pieces together. She was uncertain if she had been told his own story or if he had told her a story that he related to and one he wished that he had heeded, but regardless, she would not quickly forget his slip. She needed every bit of information the man would give… or which she could take. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]“I won’t abandon Gael,”[/SIZE][SIZE=11pt] she said to her brother but to answer the alien. Everything in her world was centered on two men; Gael and her father. There was no escaping that reality, even if she desired to. She turned her attention to her brother’s remarks, filled with anger, lusting eagerly for his chance to sit atop the throne. He was so ambitious. One day, she imagined, entire systems would bend towards his will. What a glorious day that was destined to be, when he ascended to his rightful place in the galaxy. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]Gael was still set on violence. Seraphina’s eyes spoke clearly in her silence, her reservations along this course of action were many and they were strong. Her brother claimed that he had foreseen his ascendency, but she had not seen any such visions. She feared that her brother’s ambition and sense of urgency had clouded his vision. She did appreciate her brother relenting from continuing beyond ‘old fool’ but the fact that he’d make such a comment in itself indicated that his mind was filled with hostility, set on violence. He was ambitious. And, if he wasn’t cautious, that could prove to be his undoing. Ambition was well and good but must be soothed with patience and wisdom. Otherwise, one would always be compelled to go one step further until, inevitably, they went one step too far. Her eyes lit up when he said her name, or more accurately, her nickname. There was a vast void of distance between she and the natives of this world, which caused a critical want of intimacy. Her brother was the only one with whom she shared any sense of intimacy, and the warmth of that trust had transferred to the word itself. And, it always seemed in her ears, that Gael saved a special tone for her. A softer, gentler tone. And it was always presence when he said ‘Sera.’ She listened to his terms- take the alien, sufficiently agreeable. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]“I am certain we can resolve this,” [/SIZE][SIZE=11pt]she said to him in her soft way. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]“You should not march in to confront our father regarding these accusations in your current state, dear brother,” [/SIZE][SIZE=11pt]her pleasant voice was laced with concern, a beauty reminiscent of a somber string quartette. She could feel his confidence, practically taste his disdain for their progenitor. He was in no condition to confront him; needless violence would ensue. Worse still, there was no guarantee that, if the two did come to blows, that he would prevail. The Alien and the Prince both believed her father to be weakening, to be losing his grip on power. But she could hear the screaming souls of the Dark Forge, even now, far off and yet near all at once; like a distant but poignant memory. With such awe-inspiring power, it was brash and foolish to confront the man directly. She placed both hands over her brother’s hand resting on her left shoulder. He had a unique ability to calm and comfort her with his touch. Maybe that is just what trust feels like. An idea crossed her mind, and she lifted herself up to the tips of her toes, wrapping her arms around Gael’s neck so that she could whisper softly into his ear. [/SIZE][SIZE=11pt]“Let me bless you with the Elysium,” [/SIZE][SIZE=11pt]she locked eyes with him, pleadingly. He agreed and at once a smile broke like the sunrise so foreign to hellish Velociton. It was unusual for her to perform the Elysium outside of the most private, intimate settings. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]“Okay,” [/SIZE][SIZE=11pt]she said considerately, she reached out with her hands and guided Gael’s hands to either side of her face, resting them on delicately on her cheeks. She reached up and placed her own hands likewise on her brother’s face, guiding his head so that they locked eyes. She exhaled slowly and smiled once more to reassure him before wiping away all emotion as she concentrated. It was a difficult act to perform and had the capacity to rapidly exhaust her, and so it took focus to keep herself steady. She took a final large breath, in… and out. And then… she spoke. [/SIZE][SIZE=11pt]“Hear my voice,” [/SIZE][SIZE=11pt]she said mellifluously, [/SIZE][SIZE=11pt]“hear my voice,” [/SIZE][SIZE=11pt]she repeated, she could feel from her fingertips the muscles in Gael’s neck relaxed. She said a third time, more sweetly than the two previous, [/SIZE][SIZE=11pt]“hear my voice.” [/SIZE][SIZE=11pt]She could sense that he was hearing her now, the sounds of clanging and forging, the bubbling of the lava pools faded from both her and Gael’s hearing, becoming more and more silent before, finally, the only sound either of them could hear was her voice. [/SIZE][SIZE=11pt]“Hear my voice, and hear my thoughts…” [/SIZE][SIZE=11pt]the word trailed off and she felt her mental defenses slowly falling, wall and wall and fortress by fortress. [/SIZE][SIZE=11pt]“Hear my thoughts,” [/SIZE][SIZE=11pt]she said again, her brother’s defenses likewise tumbled and their thoughts began to intermingle as the two minds became one. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]“There is no anger. There is no violence. There is no hatred. There is harmony. Tranquility. Serenity.” [/SIZE][SIZE=11pt]The world around them seemed to melt away, leaving only her eyes in his sight and his in hers. [/SIZE][SIZE=11pt]“There is no fear. There is no disappointment. There is no isolation. There is peace. Love. Unity.” [/SIZE][SIZE=11pt]Her voice coed, echoing in his head, resonating through his soul. [/SIZE][SIZE=11pt]“Look to me. You are not alone. I am here. With you. We, together are united. We together are one.” [/SIZE][SIZE=11pt]There sight was filed by an infinite field of white, blissful, nothingness. An indescribable peace washed over both of them in innumerable waves, each more tranquil than the last. All their stress, tension, vanished and was replaced by the ultimate achievement of peace. They stood there for a solitary minute, but to them it passed like an endless eternity, allowing them to bask in the soft, white light that filled their entire existence. [/SIZE][SIZE=11pt]“I give to you,” [/SIZE][SIZE=11pt]her voice as gentle as the waves that drove out all fear and anxiety, [/SIZE][SIZE=11pt]“Elysium.” [/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]To the Falleen, however, the sight was not so idyllic. To Gael, her words were so soft and sweet, but Xadorn heard with true ears. His immunity to the mental manipulations of the Force afforded him to see Elysium for what it was- powerful Sith sorcery, intimately tied to the Dark Side. While Seraphina’s soft and loving voice was present, she spoke in unity with what seemed to be an undead chorus of a million whispers. To an observer, it was clear when the man’s mental defenses collapsed. As his sister spoke, wispy black tendrils manifested slowly, rising from the ground near Seraphina’s feet, and swirling slowly up her body, down her arms, along her hands, and finally, wrapping lazily around Gael, binding the two together in deeply malevolent power. While the siblings saw only white, Xadorn would see the color slowly fading from both their eyes until their iris and the whites of their eyes were engulfed in a deep, unholy black. The color contrasting sharply against their pale skin. And then- as soon as it had come on, it was gone. The tendrils withdrew suddenly as she released withdrew her hands from Gael’s skin. Both seemed physical at ease and spiritually content, the black fading from their eyes as their natural colors were restored. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]“There,” [/SIZE][SIZE=11pt]she said weakly, smiling at the peace that she had transferred to her brother. Her form trembled for a moment before she collapsed, being caught by Gael’s steady arms. She took a moment to regain her strength. [/SIZE][SIZE=11pt]“Now,” [/SIZE][SIZE=11pt]she said, turning her disarming gaze towards Xadorn, [/SIZE][SIZE=11pt]“now we can leave.” [/SIZE][SIZE=11pt]She moved, letting Gael and Xadorn fall in behind her. Fortunately, their father was not residing in the Dark Forge today, but he was in the palace, having come to the heights of the city for one reason or another. [/SIZE][SIZE=11pt]“Please,” [/SIZE][SIZE=11pt]she said to both of them as she guided them through the dark walls of the palace, [/SIZE][SIZE=11pt]“let me speak to father alone…”[/SIZE][SIZE=11pt] she turned over her shoulder and locked eyes with Gael, [/SIZE][SIZE=11pt]“your defiance… tends to frustrate him.”[/SIZE][SIZE=11pt] They approached the throne room of the palace. Typically, it was vacant as the Lord of the Forge’s place was, naturally, in the Forge. There were two guardians lingering outside the room who blocked them as they approached. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]“Apologies princelings,” he said in something more akin to a growl than a voice, “the Lord does not desire to be disturbed.” Seraphina turned her eyes towards him, giving him a warm smile. He stood there for a moment completely still, then there was a slight twitch in his eyes, and finally, he stepped aside. “I’m certain the Lord would wish we make an acceptance for you Princess Seraphina,” he said, bowing to the party. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]“Thank you,” [/SIZE][SIZE=11pt]she turned back to her brother and alien, [/SIZE][SIZE=11pt]“I’ll resolve this matter. Worry not,” [/SIZE][SIZE=11pt]she said kindly before slipping into the throne room. [/SIZE]

 

[ToKola Bakari]

Xadorn spoke of Gael's abilities in such a light, one that he seldom saw in the darkness of Morradon. The jade-skinned man spoke of the days to come, when Gael's power would flourish and where the chapter of his father's oppressive shadow looming over him would finally be brought to a much awaited close. Yet he was clear in his wording that the day had not yet come, not yet.

It was as if Gael, for but a moment, had flashed back to a simpler time. A time when, as a child, he stood by Seraphina listening to whatever tales could be won from the baffling man who stood chief adviser of Morradon. His words were as they had always been, strong and empowering, holding equal parts of meaning and grace. As the Falleen clasped the young prince's shoulder and gave life to the story of the shattered prince Gael's expression grew calmer, yet his heart remained in an open blaze.

As Xadorn spoke of the great prince Gael turned from the man, his ears yet open to the story that was gifted to the two. His eyes fell over Velociton as he heard the words he so wished to hear when associated with his own name.

Riches. Fame. Power. These were the things that Gael wanted, to turn Morradon into a thriving kingdom where he was empowered by his subjects and feared by his enemies. His lust for power was feeding him to the point of excitement, as he stared over the molten city his eyes became as windows to his hungry soul. The need and want showing itself more than ever as he heard the story of the favored prince. Yet, as it often did to those in a place of power, calamity struck the price's tale. His entire line destroyed, his name besmirched, and his rule soured the prince had turned to revenge as most in his position would. Gael's mind drifted from his hunger of power, taking in the tale as it was given to him. His hands became braced on the ebony railing that separated the courtyard from the empty skies of Velociton.

The story came to it's end, yet not without Gael being left with one word to key him to the adviser's true identity.

My.

Had Xadorn been the prince from the story? And if so why had the man elected to hide such a thing from the two of them. In the end Gael decided not to dwell on the thoughts, in his time with the Falleen he had learned one thing about the man's past. Whatever you learn, you earn it. Now was not the time for such a delving, no, his mind was on a far greater purpose. Pushing himself from the railing Gael returned his form to the others, his sister's words of caution being given in advisement once again. It was not until his hand was taken by his sister's that the man's eyes fluttered in a mock sense of exhaustion. "Sister, I am-." His words were to be spoken in an attempt to calm his sister's troubled mind. Her words were soft and held the grace of a flower pedal, yet the prince could sense the distress that grew in her heart. As an open book he could see how she worried of his own temper, and of his ability to face the one who had given them life.

Her arms were wrapped around his neck, her skin much like the silken robes one might find on a world more inclined to beauty than power. Her words and intention were clear, she wished to cast the Elysium upon the prince once again. As she pleaded to him his eyes abandoned hers, a moment of contemplation required before allowing such a ritual to take place.

It would not be the first time his sister had requested to use the spell on the two of them, and likely not the last. The Elysium was an ability rather simple in nature, yet complex in his sister's implementation of it. To an essence the two of them would meld into one on a mental and spiritual plane. For Gael it would center him, often bringing the fire's of his desire to a subtle stand still, clearing his mind and focusing him into the being he was sure to grow to be. For Seraphina, however, it was known to ignite certain fires within her and leave her diminished in the wake of the technique. His contemplation was not drawn out, for he knew doing such would do nothing to aid him in proceeding with his desires. "As you wish." He spoke softly, glancing down to his excitable younger sister.

He watched as she guided his hands to her face, her soft cheeks held by Gael as he awaited the start of the ritual.

Her words became low and not before long they were deafened to the prince. Opening himself into the ethereal plan of the Force he became entranced by the silence until finally...

Hear my voice.

His sister's words echoed through his mind, bringing the focus of his mind and soul to her command. His body, which had become merely a vessel for his soul to inhabit, repeated the words she spoke, as if they were his own.

"Hear my voice, and hear my thoughts..." He repeated.

“There is no anger. There is no violence. There is no hatred. There is harmony. Tranquility. Serenity.” The prince continued, becoming lost in the mystics of the Elysium. “There is no fear. There is no disappointment. There is no isolation. There is peace. Love. Unity.”

The words became as reality, the fires that had burned in the man's soul began to settle. Quelled by the abilities his sister wielded through Elysium.

"We together are one." He finished, what had been a peaceful darkness was now a blinding void of nothingness. Simply raw emotion, formed to peace and harmony that washed over the two as they awaited the spells end.

The void slowly faded away, once again replaced by darkness that was quick to be washed away the image of his sister. The harsh sounds of Velociton returned in a steady stream until once again the prince was returned to the helm of his physical being. Gael pressed a soft hand to his temple, bringing his scattered thoughts to a single apex. His senses returned in time for him to see the soft tremble given off by his sister. As if foreseeing the collapse Gael's arms reached out, taking her from her path to the hard ground.

He kept her in his arms until he was sure of her ability to support herself once more. Only then would he release his sister. "A useful skill, Elysium." The Prince braced a hand on his waist as he looked over his free hand, finding the new outlook gifted by his sibling interesting. "It has been a while since you have done such, yet it has left you drained. You will not be doing such again for some time, dear sister." He spoke, his words holding a much more calculating approach to them. They were not meant in warning, nor ultimatum, but in simple fact.

​As Seraphina passed by the two men Gael's eyes took to Xadorn for a split moment, some reserves about his sister's plan beginning to show themselves. Alas the prince turned, following his sister as she strode inside, departing from the obsidian courtyard.

Gael's eyes fell over his sister as she moved through the palace. The man had always had a deep bond with his sister, since the day she was born. Born into a world of ash and fire his father had ordered her executed, devoured by the dredge's of the Dathari. It was Gael, who in the dark of the night, stole his sister away from the nursery. Yet the man had not done such merely out of his own knowledge, as a young child he swore he could hear his baby sibling calling out to him, reaching out with her very presence. It was that call that ignited the boy's actions. He recalled his father's words vividly.

"If you will not turn her over she will be yours to care for, and if ever you abandon her, her life is forfeit. Will you accept this, boy?"

The answer spoke for itself. As years passed his father's disdain for his daughter was overshadowed by his disappointment in his children as a whole, and his prodding ended. Yet Gael had never stopped watching over his sister, nor would he, she was indeed the only family he had.

His sister's attention was called back to Gael, asking that he allow her to approach father alone. The man did not offer a verbal response, yet he inclined his head in affirmation, giving his blessings. With his senses heightened there would be little done that the prince would not sense, and it was enough reinforcement to allow his sister to proceed, unmolested.

They found themselves staring at the coal-shaded door that stood barrier between the main hall and the throne room. Gael toyed with the locks that fell into his eyes, as he often caught himself doing. However, his attention was pulled from his hair when he heard the tone the guardian who stood before them had taken with his sister. His eyes were soft, calm, nearly emotionless in their serenity. Yet like a calm storm they fell onto the guards who dared speak to his sister in such ill tone.

They're time shall come as well. The half-blood prince mused, paying them little mind as his sister once again turned to her elder brother. As she disappeared behind the metallic doors of the throne room the prince clasped his hands at his waist, closing his eyes for a moment, dipping himself into the Dark Side of the Force. As if a cool wave of water it washed over him, welcoming him into it's cool embrace. His eyelids slowly rose once again and his sight turned to the guards who stood before the door. "Leave us." His words had been backed by the shadows of the Force that clung to him. His abilities at mental suggestion were no where near as skilled as his sister's nor Xadorn's, yet his presence in the force was enough to show the men there was little jesting in his command.

They exchanged glances before finally bowing their heads, uncertainly at that. "As you command, my lord." The lead of the two muttered, with a voice matching a man of exhaustion. They moved away from the door, glancing back to the two who they left in silence.

As their footsteps turned to silent memory Gael turned back to Xadorn, running one of his elongated fingernails over his chin in a silent consideration. "I trust her, yet I do not believe it was wise for her to go unaccompanied." He said, finally.

Gael stepped towards the door, bringing his palm to the face of the door as he exhaled softly. There was a pause before he removed his hand and turned back to Xadorn silently. He wished to exercise his will over the Force, placing himself in the room through ethereal means, yet his father was sure to sense such an intrusion, even in a weakened state.

[member="Seraphina Addock"] [member="Xadorn"]

 

[Xadorn]

The way in which the children clung to his words was something Xadorn was familiar with, he granted the children the approval that their father never had, and without their mother around now it all fell to Xadorn to assure the children of their prowess, to boost their confidence to new heights. While Xadorn endeavored to elevate the noble children, their father sought to tear them down, and so did every other Dathari. Xadorn was the pillar of support for them… Was it idolization? Did they see Xadorn as a friend or merely an ally to be used? What was it that these children truly thought? While Xadorn could certainly get impressions from their appearances and actions he could not penetrate their minds while being immune to the mental aspects of the force was a great boon, it was also one of the costliest, it restricted the Falleen from being able to use the same abilities that he was able to resist. The blush of Seraphina said everything it needed to, the way she touched his nail. She did believe his words and clung to them as though they were a life lesson.
The twinkle in Gael’s eye as Xadorn heaped praise on his head was evident, the young dathari hybrid craved for such recognition, he certainly hadn’t been given it by his father. Leaning in Seraphina gave the impression of the child she and Gael had once been. So anxious, curious about the outside world and stories that came from outside the Dathari culture. Gael had grown more pensive, he instead walked away listening but imagining it. It made Xadorn wonder if the heir would ever truly understand the costs of great power. Gael was not cautious enough to know the fate that could possibly befall him in his quest for power, nor after he achieved it. The heir believed himself powerful yet in a galaxy where some could cause stars to explode Gael was nothing. At least not yet.


The first to have responded to the story was Seraphina who clung to her brother out of what? Desperation, fear, love possibly? It was so hard to perceive what was genuine with the princess. Seraphina could one day rival the greatest of politicians in her manipulations or even the finest of Falleen noble heads. It was a terrifying sight, and with her abilities in the force constantly growing she would simply continue to grow more dangerous and here she was about to put her powers on display before the Falleen. Keen on witnessing the events to come Xadorn stepped back becoming silent. He did not wish to interrupt, more to examine. His own skills in the force were of a more mundane nature. Xadorn had a connection that allowed him to focus on the more mechanical aspects and understanding machinery. Along with a skill in the telekinetic school.

The words of Seraphina matched that of a Jedi’s they were the words to calm a beast, to reassure them that no harm would come. Oh, how innocent the words were, yet the voice or better yet voices that spoke them were horrifying. Xadorn’s blood chilled to near freezing as the temperature changed, it should’ve been impossible in Velociton, yet here was Seraphina achieving it. The chorus of the damned sung with her, they aided the young princess and gave her a power that made Xadorn truly consider her a threat. As if from thin air tendrils of malevolent energy took shape and began to form around the two. Xadorn had only done minor studies into both the jedi and Sith. He knew not what ability this was but it certainly wasn’t one of the light.

Hands tucking into his robes Xadorn’s eyes never broke contact with the two, whatever witchery Seraphina had cast was dazzling, and as the tendrils withdrew Xadorn quirked a brow with it coming to an end. Whatever Seraphina had graced Gael with it was obvious that it had taken effect. Will have to keep my eyes on that… If Seraphina was granting Gael power she could be far more dangerous than Xadorn gave her credit for, with her sway over her brother she would perhaps be the true ruler of Morradon if she ever wished to be.

“I wish for the best in this encounter,” Xadorn answered his eyes catching Gael’s. Offering a reassuring smile, something that didn’t happen often Xadorn moved to follow Seraphina alongside Gael. An excitement swelled in Xadorn’s chest as he knew that this day would make a change, not only for Velociton but for Morradon as a whole. The world itself would quake, this would change history and the actions on this day could go on to possibly shape the galaxy as a whole. Here Xadorn stood at the center of it all playing such a pivotal roll. It had been he who had accelerated this, he had forced a change when it possible wouldn’t have taken place for decades. Whether it was purposeful or not would be for the historians to guess at. The motivations and plans of Xadorn were and had always been a mystery. The counselor who cared for the noble heirs or the grand manipulator tugging at their strings.

They moved as one, the three-marching forward till they reached the door with the guards and then the differences between Gael and Seraphina became more apparent. Seraphina’s honeyed words allowed her to slip past the guards with no issue, a quick smile and she was inside the Lord’s chambers. Not a single complaint offered. If only I’d been gifted with her talents. Xadorn mused as Gael dismissed the guards. “That was a good start. The guards at least know to show you and your power the proper respect…”

“If you do not believe it wise for your sister to go alone why do you stand out here?” Turning to the young noble Xadorn looked over him. “That is your sister in there, if you perceive her to be in danger why do you not join her? You are siblings, it is your duty to stand together! Even before someone such as your father…”

Sighing and looking to the obsidian colored door Xadorn shook his head. “You should do what you think is best. Do not sit here and be content with your sister going to face a battle that is for the both of you.” Placing his hands on the door Xadorn waited a few minutes letting the Lord greet his daughter and begin talking before pushing the doors open with a loud Thoom! One long, elegant step brought Xadorn into the chambers and as the six guards acted bringing their spears to bear he spoke a single word. “Stop.” In that instant, the children would witness the power of a Falleen’s pheromones, it was an outright command and Xadorn enforced it, his voice harsh, cold, cruel. The Dathari struggled against the command but found themselves unable to move, they understood what was happening yet were unable to fight it.

“Hope you don’t mind Seraphina but Gael wished to be with you for this.”

[member="Gael Addock"] [member="Seraphina Addock"]

 

[Enara]

Seraphina slipped in and closed the door behind her, allowing her a brief respite as she rested against it. Gael was easily concerned for her, and she did not wish to display any hint of weakness before him. His mind was turbulent and easily clouded both by ambition and his instinctive protectiveness. There may have been many solutions to his suffering, but the only one she truly believed in was the Elysium. It allowed her to transfer some of herself to him- it calmed his ambitions by granting him her peace. It soothed his short temper by imparting to him her patience. And she benefited too. Her natural inclination towards passivity was lessoned, she was more willing to stand up for what she believed in. She was given a sense of purpose, a drive that extended beyond her own desire to please others. She was given boldness. And her eagerness for approval from father was lessoned substantially in the wake of the Elysium.

Unfortunately, it also left her weakened and drained. Even now, there was a pronounced silence lingering everywhere. The cries from the Dark Forge she could normally hear so well had fallen silent. The thoughts of the guards did not reach out to her. In fact, the only thing she could feel at all was the faintest whisper of her brother’s presence, and that of her father’s. She didn’t need the Force, however, to tell her that the Lord of the Forge was displeased by her presence, or perhaps more accurately, her interruption. He sat on the throne, elevated above the advisors and guards who attended to him. The ominous glow of his red eyes peered down at her, the unkempt strands of white hair falling about his face without a semblance of order, his skin was impossibly pale, and his sharp nails tapping at the arm rest of his throne. He leaned forward expectantly.

You are bold girl.

She winced as the words sent a searing pain and pushed into her mind, one hand went to her temple, applying a bit of pressure to sooth the pain. She steadied herself and spoke verbally, absent the strength to respond telepathically. “Father,” she said softly, genuflecting as she fluidly moved to her knees and bowed her head, “It is not my intention to disturb you… I…” her nerves were steeled with Gael’s boldness, “there is a rumor that has concerned me, I beg you to grant me audience.”

Come.

“Yes Father,” she moved slowly towards the throne, crawling rather than standing. It was precisely her willingness to submit that had won her favor over Gael in the eyes of their father. Where Gael pushed, she gave. Where Gael stood, she bowed. The fact that she was not next in line for the throne likely also aided her position as father’s favorite. Not that the term meant that much- being the favorite child was next to meaningless given that he despised the very existence of both children.

Your mind radiates with thoughts of Gael.

“Yes Father, I care for him. You know this,” she answered quietly, she could feel the man pushing through her thoughts, creeping into her inner most mental sanctums. He could call upon the full power of the Forge and she was exhausted. He stood and moved down the steps of the throne slowly, with purpose. Each step seemed to ring out, her heart leapt and her stomach churned with each. “The most awful rumors have reached my ears, Father. Will you grant me audience?” She felt the cool, sharpness of his nails press into the skin around her chin as he gripped her face, forcing her head up to look into the his crimson glare. Her breath caught as the pressure on of his talon against her flesh intensified. “Do you intend us harm?”

Who put these thoughts in your mind?

“Shadows and whispers are all,” she responded reticently. His red glare narrowed and she felt his presence in her mind expanded through the Force, if she refused to surrender the information, he would take it. She had not the energy nor the will power to defy him, the unnatural presence causing an instant migraine as he probed.

His glare deepened and she gasped as he invaded her mind, the unnatural incursion immediately caused a screaming pain throughout her head as he pushed aside her barriers and probed for the answer to his question. “Father,” she said as she attempted to pry his hand away from her face, trying to break their gaze as she found herself impotent to turn her eyes elsewhere. “Please, stop,” he paid her no heed as he searched through her memories for the source of this rumor… and with equal suddenness he ceased, apparently satisfied that he had discovered who had passed this rumor onto her. He dropped her face and she collapsed in a heap at his feet, hands flying to her throbbing head.

Foolish child, you will know when I intend you harm when I tear the flesh from your bones to sooth my hunger.

She didn’t have the stamina to ascertain the truthfulness of his telepathic assertion, nor did she have the time. No sooner had he communicated this did the doors to the chamber fly open with force and suddenness. The throne room guards scrambled to counter the threat and she heard a single word, full of authority ring out across the vast chambers- “Stop.” The guards at once stood down, and even from the throne she could feel the distant pheromones. She glanced up, the migraine making her vision blurry and saw her Father level his furious stare at the new arrivals.

 

[ToKola Bakari]

The question that erupted from the elder Falleen was not one so easily answered. Of course Gael wished to stand beside his sister, yet she had requested to enter the chambers alone and the Forsaken Prince intended to honor those wishes. Yet as many other things in his life he soon watched his control slip away from the situation. With a hand upon the door Gael watched as the Falleen's intentions became transparent. His words had been true, yet just as the man opened the door the young Prince sensed something flowing from the chamber, danger. The door's to the throne room were thrown open by Xadorn's strength as he strode into the hall. Gael followed, his adjusting the collar of his shirt as his eyes fell to the guards approaching them.

Long before the Dathari half-blood needed to intervene the guardsmen found themselves frozen in place, paralyzed by the Chief Adviser's pheromones. They were a truly powerful ability to possess, holding their own special set of grace and command. Gael strode past Xadorn, averting his eyes from the powerless guards to the sight before him.

The laissez-faire posture the King showed upon the throne, the indifferent gaze that fell upon Gael as his father's eyes finally graced him with their acknowledgement. His ghost-like skin, long since wrinkled to an unappealing point of barely appearing grafted to his body.

"I have granted you audience, boy. Nor did I grant audience to that thing I call my adviser."

The hushed, yet lording voice of his father traveled through the room, barely falling upon Gael's closed ears. In silence Gael approached the throne, his eyes locked upon his sister as the soft echo of footsteps became prevalent. His footsteps lessened until finally he stood before the Crimson Throne, his eyes connected with that of his father's. The gaze thrown from his father met Gael's for a lasting moment, it was a battle of wills that created a pressure within the room, far surpassing the realm of the force. No, it was a pure exchange of malice that could be felt by even the youngest of children.

A pain ached in the back of Gael's head as he had approached his sister. In the back of his mind he attempted to ascertain the source of this pain. Yet once he stood but a few feet from her it became obvious what had transpired in his absence. The pain was familiar to him, so much so that he recalled the last time his father had forced his will into Seraphina's mind in an attempt to gain information.

Their father's version of a family talk was often so painful.

As if finding no more joy in the mental combat with his father Gael turned his attention for Seraphina. She was even more drained than the Prince had originally suspected, and the mental probe did nothing to help. His hand rose, pointed at his sister as he rolled his wrist towards himself, gesturing for her to take a place by his side.

"Do you still believe yourself my superior?"

The darkened voice called out to Gael, the loaded question bringing the man's attention back to his sullen father. Without words Gael's eyes never left his father, he but bent at the knee lowering himself to the ground. A knee marked over the freshly polished obsidian floors of the throne room, Gael knelt before the man he hated more than anything, yet to break words.

In a voice mirroring a man who had come upon a realization the King extended a hand out to Gael, speaking once more in his condescending tone.

"See now?....Even a young bastard may learn his place. Keep this moment in mind, never forgetting who you owe your miserable life to." The words were spoken, intently pointed at Gael's pride.

A moment of silence fell over the throne room before the King's hand waved away from the group, dismissively. "Leave." He said, his tone holding it's own supply exasperation.

Rising from his place Gael's hand fell over his sister's shoulder, pulling her close to him as he turned away from the man.

He ushered his younger sister through the large throne room, the walk from one end to another seeming to last that of an eternities. Finally they found themselves back with Xadorn, whom Gael gave a knowing look before passing him. The boy's grip on his sister's shoulder tightened protectively as they crossed the threshold. He continued to lead her silently, his eyes never averting from the path they walked, nor did it falter in stride.

His mind would appear to be as a void, emptied by the rage that overshadowed all cognitive thoughts. Finally Gael would bring his sister to another hall, far from the eyes, ears, and stench of the throne room. The door before them was one Gael often moved through, in hopes of calming himself or bettering his skills. Pressing a hand to the door he opened them into a room, three stories in height, filled from the floor to the ceiling with books acquired through out the years. The Royal library, a place of knowledge, as opposed to forging.

Gael led Seraphina to a chair, allowing her to rest as he finally released his grip on her. A soft hand came over her cheek, giving her a reassuring look before he turned away from her. Gael had been silent up to this point, his pride binding his lips, for even one word uttered could have meant their deaths.

Yet now, away from the presence of his father, he found that one word.

"Argh!" He cried out, throwing both of his hands forward, his palms reaching out for one of the bookshelves adjacent to the wall. While not an actual word it had given life to an actual effect. The Force wrapped around his arms, propelling itself at the bookshelf in a hungry strike. The kinetic wave smashed the bookshelf into the wall behind it, forcing the metal bars to clang loudly as they were bent against the ebony stone. Most of the books had been thrown from the shelves, several loose pages flying through the air as Gael's hand came to his chin, letting out a soft exhale.

[member="Seraphina Addock"] [member="Xadorn"]

 

[Xadorn]

The sight of the weakened Seraphina kneeling before her father was infuriating, while Xadorn was not susceptible or even knowledgeable in the mental aspects of the force he knew what it looked like when one was put under mental strain, Seraphina had the look of so many others that Xadorn had bent to his will with his pheromones. It was a sight the Falleen wasn’t prepared for, the storm grey eyes affixed themselves on the Dathari that sat on the throne, elderly, he looked like a living corpse. Arms once again at the small of his back Xadorn cast a glance to the Dathari which had stood down, this was easily a slight to the Lord of the Forge. He expected loyalty above all else and for his men to answer to another, even if it wasn’t by their own will was a large slap in the face. Taking delight in that thought Xadorn moved to stand by Seraphina’s side as Gael did the talking.

While he despised being called a thing, he’d be sure to make the Lord of the Forge pay for the words later. Seraphina was weak, and Gael… The boy was losing his nerve, how? They had come so far, stormed the chamber, defeated the guards in a sense, this would’ve been his chance to strike the king down while he was caught off guard but the young hybrid said nothing. No, he stood there and let himself be berated, it wouldn’t be Gael’s physical self that took a beating but his pride, his ego. The King sought to pound the boy into submission with words alone and toXadorn’s chagrin it seemed to be working. No… Xadorn thought a hand reaching out to help Seraphina but her brother was there. He’d be the one to aid her, it was important to their relationship to be the ones to aid each other. In the end it was themselves that they could trust and no others, despite what Xadorn thought of them he knew that they couldn’t trust him implicitly, not when they couldn’t access his mind. Not to mention the large threat he was.

Eyes moving to Gael, Xadorn wished he could say something to stop the boy from doing what came next but it was too late. Gael had submitted to his father’s rule, he’d swallowed his own pride for what? For his sister? To prolong his own life? They could’ve struck the king down right then if they wished. Shaking his head and silently judging Gael, Xadorn watched them stand and begin to leave. The command had been given, but the Falleen did not move. His eyes locking with that of the Lord’s, the storm that brewed in Xadorn’s eyes was the same one that the Lord had seen the first day the Falleen had found his way to the underground city, when he had laid waste to the Dathari in mass. They were frail, weak, Falleen were known to have physical abilities that put them on par with Jedi and Sith, mix that with the lethal pheromones and an immunity to mental manipulation you had the perfect individual to kill a Force User.

“You do not call me a thing, you know my name. I’ve told you it, you know my species, I’ve educated you on the topic. For your transgressions, there is always a consequence.”Stopping and looking to the guards who still stood frozen as though statues Xadorn turned back to the lord. “Show your lord the consequences of his actions.” The words may have had no meaning at first but one by one each guard drew their knives placing them to their necks slowly dragging the blades across their throats. Deep slits that burrowed into the throat and as the blade went across, even as they began to choke on their own blood they continued on till the slit was complete. Collapsing to the ground the guards’ blood seeped out, the Obsidian floor slowly began to turn red as the blood pooled. “If you ever lay a hand on those children again it will be more than just guards I kill. A Lord is no longer a Lord when there are no people left.”

With that said Xadorn spun on his heels exiting the room with a slow elegant walk, not an ounce of fear was in his gait, no nervousness nor enjoyment. This had simply been a lesson taught, walking through the halls Xadorn came upon the two as Gael flung a bookshelf. “Calm yourself boy.” Raising his hand and snapping the long fingers Xadorn willed the door shut behind them. “Why did you do that? Why did you kneel? Now that you’ve done that he’ll never stop pushing.”

Looking to Seraphina Xadorn moved to her to check how she was doing. “What did he say in there Seraphina? Do you see what I mean?”

“Do you both not see what I mean? You wished to do it diplomatically but look what happened to your sister. You can only answer something like this with retaliation."

[member="Gael Addock"] [member="Seraphina Addock"]

 

[Enara]

"I have granted you audience, boy. Nor did I grant audience to that thing I call my adviser."

A flurry of thoughts went through Seraphina’s still aching mind as their father spoke. Why had Gael interrupted? She had asked him twice to leave the discussion to just herself and their father. The beginning had been… unpleasant, but it always was. Interactions with Father were a game of patience and endurance as much as anything else. At the same time, thoughts swirled regarding the advisor, how he had dispatched the force seemingly without effort. She had seen small displays of his persuasive power, but this was a raw, unadulterated exhibition of absolute domination. She could not help but imagine what potency that ability would have if it were directed at their enemies… or if it was directed at herself or, worse still, her dear brother.

These thoughts, and countless others, were all present in her mind. But each was subservient to the one emotion that governed how she viewed everything else; relief. Father terrified her immensely, his ability to peer into her mind was incomparable to any other sensation. No matter how old she became, how strong she grew, he was always able to shove his way past her defenses and violate the ultimate sanctuary one’s mind represented. It reduced her to little more than a frightened little girl in its wake. But Gael; Gael was stronger than she, more capable. When he was near, she was safe. And while his presence frustrated her goal of defusing the tensions, it also assured her that everything was going to be okay. Or at least, it would have if not for the sheer intensity of the stare held between father and son. A palpable hatred seemed to spread across the obsidian of the throne room, this was precisely why she had asked him to wait.

“Gael,” her voice was so soft, spoken in a sigh, and she was only barely strong enough to say that much. She reached out and took his arm, pulling with all the strength she could manage to rise to her feet, though even then she required the aid of her brother’s strong arms. With one arm around her shoulders, defraying some of her weight and helping her stay standing, though her knees still wobbled uncertainly. Her eyes grew large at their father’s provoking question, what little color was left in her face drained, leaving only a ghostly pale figure clinging weakly to the young man. “Bow Gael,” she whispered into his ear, forcing herself to speak through sheer willpower alone. She could feel in her soul that if he refused there would be unspeakable consequences. “He only desires the smallest token of obedience, please Brother,” she urged him desperately, “give him that token.” A wave of relief washed over her when she felt her brother moving to obey, unable to stand on her own- and unwilling to stand over her Brother even if she’d been able to physically, she also fell to her knees as he lowered himself. Unlike Gael, she turned her eyes down in complete submission. The words her father spoke next, she knew, would wound her Brother’s pride but that was a good sign. Father only needed to wound him emotionally if he did not carry intentions to harm him physically, and their relief could be found. And then he dismissed them.

She relied on him to help her back to her feet and leaned almost all of her weight on him as she shuffled out. She could feel the color returning to her face as the tension was lessoned, her eyes were moist with tears and her hands shook with a mind of their own, but Gael had bowed and their Father was satisfied, at least for now. And that was more than enough to mark this occasion as a victory. She thought it odd that he said nothing to her, nor to the advisor once they had left the throne room, but she did not question it. As they retreated slowly from their father’s presence, her strength returned to her ever so gradually, but not in sufficient quantity to carry more of her own weight. And so she allowed herself to be half-led, half-carried by Gael through the palace, only barely noticing the fact that the alien was not moving in tandem with them.

She had always loved the library- for one, it was a place not frequented by the largely ignorant Dathari nor even her Father. Thus, it had been a place of solitude and stability in her youth; it seemed that the only souls to ever visit the beautiful knowledge filled area were herself, her brother, and occasionally their alien advisor. Gael’s decision to come here was evidence of his wisdom- it would be a good and quiet place to rest and recuperate and, she believed, that libraries had mystical, soothing atmospheres. She allowed herself to be deposited in one of the chairs, it seemed that all the comfortable furniture was either in Gael’s room or here in the library. She had long ago forfeited her luxurious bedroom for spare servant quarters with little more than a simple sleeping pad to furnish them. It had been part of a large effort to rid herself of unnecessary distraction and improve her abilities in the Force, her Father had been characteristically unimpressed with her dedication. She felt his hand press softly against her cheek and smiled at her Brother but chose not to interrupt the silence for fear of unleashing the discontent she knew boiled just under the surface.

She was unprepared for the sudden, explosive force of his fury. She jumped as he shouted, and screamed as he sent a wave of volatile Force energy against the library shelf. It was not the first time she had seen her brother so upset, but every time she was amazed at the fury with which he allowed himself release. Still, her familiarity did little to shield her from the pain that knowing he was unhappy brought to her heart, and it was an unhappiness she was powerless to sooth. The very thought made her want to cry, weep for her brother and the pain he so selflessly endured. But he had always been strong for her, it was the least she could do to restrain her tears and try to comfort him, “Gael,” her faint voice was no match for his outrage, but she knew that he would hear her all the same. He listened for her voice, as she listened for his. “Do not cling to anger, let it leave you. Remember the embrace of the Elysium, let the memory calm you.”

As Xadorn arrived, he began to attack the Prince with not even a trace of hesitation, the alien’s harsh orders were in sharp contrast to her own soft suggestions. “Sometimes, it is braver to kneel than to stand,” she said weakly, she had never been able to tolerate anyone voicing doubt in her brother. Anyone other than Father, of course. “He saved us from an unnecessary confrontation,” she pointed out. When the elegant green man turned his attention to her, she took to her Father’s defense with equal vigor, “he told me the truth,” she responded quietly. “I was a fool to even consider your warning, you must have misunderstood. Father means us no harm, means Gael no harm.” Xadorn did not seem dissuaded, even using her condition as evidence to fuel his point. “No, what happened to me was my fault,” she turned to Gael, knowing he would be understanding, “he asked me a question and I attempted to deceive him. He was right to remind me that there are no lies before the Throne of the Lord. How could he allow me to escape without punishment? I should have known better, you would have known better.” She turned back to the alien, “you have soured Father’s mood, now I will have to wait before attempting to reconcile us to him.”