Private The Mouth of Madness

[Zoyût]

Zoyût, in spite of her willful isolation from the greater galaxy, quite enjoyed having a new and eager student in the cult. Rul Tondar had proven to be devout and willing to do much for the knowledge she possessed, and so she afforded the strange little man more freedom than she otherwise might have for another student. In her capacity as an instructor she simply observed before, but as the new year approached she had come to the conclusion that now was the best time to become proactive in his search for deeper meaning.

The slaves toiled round the clock on normal days, but leading up to the new year ceremony their workload doubled. In preparation, sacrifices were gathered and placed in isolation until the day they were needed. Zoyût herself was inscribing runic patterns on the altar and preparing the relics personally, and with her student eager to learn now was the time to teach one of the important rituals associated with longevity in the Force.

A young man, bound to the altar lay awaiting his fate. He was blinded and gagged, until such a time that the ritual was to begin. The man would need his senses to fully experience his agony and terror. As cultists began to file through into the Sacred Hall of Penance, Zoyût waited for her student. She was going to guide his hand through the ritual and hopefully he would be able to glean the importance of his victim's suffering as much as he would learn about himself in the process.

 

[Rul Tondar]

The Sith apprentice had made a new home for himself amongst the blood cult in the ancient temple. Time passed differently during his horrific time in the temple, he observed many cruel and dark things that he had yet to understand. Rituals, sacrifices and prayers were amongst these new activities in his life as a cultist. Rul enjoyed them thoroughly and often wanted more once the partaken training was completed. These were indeed astounding times for the young Sith as so much new knowledge and life experience was coming his way all due to his new master Zoyût .

The Skakoan had spent his day lingering inside his chambers reading old books he had encountered within the temple, they told great stories of old sith empires and a Lord who devoured worlds. He was stuck in his world of books when he saw the time, the apprentice was almost late for his ritual that was to take place in a few minutes. This particular day Rul had been summoned to the hall of Penance, a ritual involving a young man and non-other than his Lord would be performed and as a student of the Sith, he was called to assist and learn. It was an honour to be taught by the great lord of flesh and blood, yet the spoiled royal was messing up simple things such as coming on time.

He rushed out of his chamber and into the hallway. The light was dim and the mood clouded by a scent of blood and despair, a common fragrance in these dark ruins. Walking towards the hall in which the cultists were preparing the wicked ritual, Rul thought of what treacherous performance he would be blessed with today, it had been too long since he heard the painful screams of a living being.

Arriving just in time Rul bent down in front of his lord " Apologies for the wait dark lord Zoyût, the halls were long and my legs only carry me so fast" He dared not to look at her while speaking and thus kept his head down as he spoke his apologies. Rul spoke in a lowly but proud manner, his voice had changed during his time in these chambers, with everyday fear rushing through his words becoming less and less.

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[Zoyût]

"Time is only a concept by which we guide our lives. You have arrived precisely when needed." the towering woman said with a voice both hollow and metallic. Her body was grafted in many places with alchemical alloys and it appeared to extend internally as well. There was no sense of punctuality needed for Zoyût, as she also lived on her own schedule and frequented hours of days better spent sleeping to many. While some might call it a disorganized lifestyle, there were only a few guiding points in the year that called her attention. This, being the marking of a new year, was one of them. It was not by virtue of the changing of a year, but rather the idea behind it. Discarding the old and bringing in the new. Change was dynamic and part of the Dark Side and today that change was coming to take place at the hands of her apprentice this time.

She rose from her seat and spread her long arms wide to the gathered cultists below. "Children, the hour is at hand. On this the day of the new year we mark the passage of old and the welcoming of new into our lives. My dear apprentice will begin the ceremony and by my guidance, will usher in both the year, and the next portion of his life among our loving family." she said, to a chorus of chanting and performative self-flagellation. These cultists, the bulk, were the ones that worshipped. They served their purpose as the chattel for Zoyût's experimentation and exercises in the Dark Side. That they revered her as a prophet of darkness only played into that perfectly. Still, she valued them in a strange and perverse way, as children she could guide through the Dark Side to power. Several had risen to prominence amongst their peers, and were trusted with tasks beyond Rhen Var. Still more had perished in the process of trying to achieve new power. Today, that test fell to Rul.

The grinding of stone on stone began and beside the stone altar upon which the chosen victim was bound rose a pedestal of tools. Each of them a surgical instrument carved from volcanic glass. That was not the chief property of these pieces though, as they teemed with dark energies. These devices had been used since the inception of the cult to usher in the new year, which meant that thousands of years of blood had been spilled by these ever sharpened blades. "My child, the time is here. Please, the scalpel. Make an incision in the chest cavity and begin by removing the liver and placing it in the stone urn to the left of the man's torso. I will be using the Dark Side to keep him alive while you perform the first step."

 

[Rul Tondar]

"Your words tower me, Lord Zoyût , I shall live by them henceforth" the apprentice answers with a dark smile on his face, his voice soft and demanding at the same time. Rul moved to the front of the row with the other cultists behind him. The Skakoan would not dare mingle with the lesser as he saw himself beyond them, he was the selected apprentice or so he believed. The Sith trainee stood proud as he viewed the every move of his lord not wanting to miss a single juncture in this bloody ritual.

Following the inciting words of the Sith lord, the weak minds of these halls echoed in their mutilation of flesh. The cultist's sacrifices were necessary for the gain of others, Zoyût was their Shepard and thus they followed her through all paths of life. Left and right Rul heard the dulled shrieks of pain he felt the all too familiar horrifying aura of flesh being ripped and the soothing smell of newly spilt blood. His dark sovereign stood by her throne, the sith pupil was amazed by her pure power that could control over all of them with her mere presence. Throughout his time in the lost temple hundreds of followers left this plane of existence for her mere grace, most saw her as their motherly patron but all that returned was blood and flesh rather than tenderness and care.

This was more than a beginning of a dark ceremony this was the beginning of a new year. Shedding their old minds, the minds of the past years and, they would glorify themselves with this unused year. The past year was not kind to the Skakoan, he had lost everything those who once loved him now exiled him into space thus cursing him to ricochet around the emptiness of space. But, this all changed when he entered these unholy chambers, he had a family in these people a home in the dark halls and the care from his teacher. Now it was his time to give back.

He answered his call and approached the chilly pedestal holding tools of surgery. It seems his years of practising with these instruments back on Skako would pay off. As he felt the clean hilt of the scalpel on his rough palm he felt at peace this was his calling and he would not disappoint. Going through the rest of the tools Rul was fascinated by the material of the blade the volcanic glass was old and visibly used, tools used for centuries, tools with history but most shockingly the sinister force pouring out of these tools reawaking something inside of him, his old voices. The peaceful silence of his mind was once more filled with screams demanding cruel things of the weak Sith but, the laudest desire was to do exactly as Zoyût instructed. Taking the scalpel the onetime doctor made a precise incision in the chest as blood started pouring out. The cut was large enough for him to move his hand within the man's body. Rul was both in a trance but fully aware of his actions. Removing the liver was easy but painful as the man screamed his lungs soar as the Skakoan forcefully removed his organ. Such surgical procedures would happen surprisingly often within his lab. The Sith apprentice was once more awoken and placed the freshly blood dripping liver into the stone as directed by his teacher. He looked at her his eyes filled with despair and grief as the voices roared at him to do rotten things.

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