The Sights of Other Worlds

[Vrak Nashar]

[member="Irid"]

Something watched Irid.

It made no noise.

It asked no questions.

It simply watched in silence.

The apprentice would feel it once the poison began to spread. She would sense it once she centered herself. An odd sort of darkness that bore to the heart of the fortress, a small press of the mind, a tiny little itch at the back of her head that she would only feel when the time was right. The poison spread and spread, forming around her and wisping to the side. For a second if she looked closely she would see the fade of something, a hand shaking through the poison, a face floating through the clouds.

"Come to me"

A voice would ring from nowhere.

It sounded within her head, within her ears, within her very soul. The voice called out to Irid, a cry of desperation, of sadness and despair. The face within the poison moved, shifted, and then disappeared as more of the gas flooded into the room.

"Come to me."

the voice repeated once more.

 

[Irid]

Whatever gas had been released within the air was now circulating her lungs and her bloodstream. This much was evident by the beginnings of a tingle in her extremities, fingers and toes felt slightly cold and numb.

Was she to die so soon after entering the tomb? Should she have turned back and begged Lord Nashar to forgive her failure? Perhaps her symptoms weren't deadly. At the very least she would rather chance that than face her Master in failure of his tests.

Onward down the hallway she walked, the illuminating light of the wall torches becoming ever closer and showing the opaque fog of gas that surrounded her still.

She stopped, heart racing.

A shiver.

Cold.

Come to me.

The words pierced her mind, her psyche. It wasn't loud in terms of volume but it shook her core and sent her stomach into knots that grew ever tighter. The voice was not a happy one. Brown eyes turned, catching a face in the toxic smog that only sat for a moment before swirling away into nothing.

Truthfully Irid had very little desire to do as the voice had asked, but this was what Lord Nashar had asked and that was a task she did hold desire for.

It spoke again as the young woman slid along the wall, finally coming to a torch which she immediately tried to pull from the wall. However it did not budge a single inch, as if it was not meant to ever leave its place.

Instead she had to move onward, regardless, every torch she passed the girl attempted to pull from the wall. As if one might have been different, but it would seem that she would be required to adapt to the darkness.

---

[member="Vrak Nashar"]

 

[Vrak Nashar]

[member="Irid"]

The voice did not speak again, but the odd sort of pressure that pushed against Irid's mind would continue.

She would recognize the feeling the odd surge of power that she had felt when standing besides Vrak. It would be clear from Ryral's teachings that this was the darkside of the force. It was like a thick perfume within these halls, a pressing musk that seemed to float through the very air. The scent stung the nostrils, pressing and holding against the senses. It was an oppressive presence, making it difficult to breath, and perhaps even see.

"Kill"

The voice suddenly spoke.

A low rumble would fill the halls before Irid, a slight growl, the scratch of nails against the ground. It sounded out low first, then high. Within the darkness something stirred, something began to move. There was a guttural shriek as she moved forward, the very darkness seemingly shifted before her.

"Kill"

The voice repeated once more.

It begged for an answered, asked and cried out for mercy. It called to her, sung to her, a steady drone within Irid's mine that would beg nothing less than her complete attention.

 

[Irid]

The slave flinched as the voice came again, this time with intentions that seemed vastly different to the last. It felt like pins and needles upon the inside of her skull as the itch that had pervaded her fingers and toes crept further up her hands and feet.

Another sound. Was it real? Was it all in her head? Faint scratching down the hallway, growing ever louder. Something was there. Something beyond shades in the darkness. Something real.

Who did the voice command.

Irid reached for the lightsaber at her belt and did not hesitate in activating the blade, the red light bathing and illuminating her immediate surroundings as an awful cry sounded from in front of her, growing closer as the scratching was joined by the thudding of feet upon the ground. A singular stampede.

With the light of the blade at her side the girl shifted to the middle of the hallway to give herself more room to face what was thundering towards her. Trying to form some kind of stance in which she could defend herself.

Legs heavy. Heart pounding. The voice sounded again and it threatened to bring the girl to her knees just as the creature came upon her. It pounced with all of it's momentum and in a last ditch moment of pure panic Irid threw herself back against the wall, the air whooshing past her face along with the creature.

Before she could even regain herself the beast was upon her again, the glow of red eyes matching the hue of her own weapon. It charged once again and this time she wasn't quick enough. It overwhelmed, overpowered, knocking the girl onto her back and the lightsaber out of her hands.

Savage teeth snapped at her face as the slave had to use all of her strength to keep the beast from tearing it off. Thick saliva sprayed her, and terror gripped her soul in the face of such a monster. Viyers always told her about beautiful and fantastical creatures of the galaxy, he had seemingly failed to mention these kinds of monstrosities.

She tried to kick, her hands perilously pushing at the beast's neck and face (and trying to avoid mass rows of large teeth), claws scratched, barbs tore at her hands. In the heat of panic and immediate fear for her life there was a sudden burst of the Force that pushed the beast backwards and off of her.

It was only a brief respite, but this time she was ready. Thankfully the relative narrowness of the hallway allowed the girl to snatch the lightsaber hilt as she scrambled to her feet. Reactivating the blade once more, the creature rounded upon her again. This time slowly, smelling her blood and fear in the air.

She backed up as it approached, slashing the air in front of her with its claws. In return Irid feverishly slashed the lightsaber in front of the beast. Neither making contact but both showing intent.

Finally the animal made a true lunge and in return Irid made a wild swing. Snarls died mid-air as the red blade cleaved through the creature's neck with ease, a loud thud echoing through the hallway as both the head and body of the animal hit the ground at different times.

Deactivating the blade Irid immediately crumpled, falling down onto the hard stone, gasping for breath after the exertion involved in fighting off the beast. Even after that ordeal she felt weak. How was she supposed to go on?

---

[member="Vrak Nashar"]

 

[Vrak Nashar]

[member="Irid"]

"Stand."

The voice whispered. It filtered through her mind, the darkness still surrounding her. Wrapping around her and slowly twirling about her in an odd sort of ethereal form. A hand formed from nothing a mist that seemed to come from nowhere. It reached down and gently touched Irid upon the floor, it's fingers slowly grazing through her hair.

"Stand."

It commanded again.

The darkness that had surrounded her would cease it's oppression. Her lungs would no longer burn, the air would no longer bite, power would begin to flow through her. At first it was a trickle, at first it was nothing but a small stream, but steadily it became more.

"Stand."

The voice said once more.

"Continue. Find me."

It urged her on.

 

[Irid]

Stand.

There it was. The voice again. She had shifted herself with the back against the stone wall, lightsaber deactivated but hilt still gripped tight within her hand, drops of crimson tainting the hilt and splashing upon the floor.

She looked up, eyes facing the fog, exhausted, a coughing fit emerging as both a side effect of her exertions and a residue of miner's lung. Her chest heaving, the tingling moving upwards, creeping into her arms and legs. She couldn't stand. She felt weak, smothered. This felt like the very tip of the iceberg, barely even a scraping of what the tomb had to offer in terms of testing her.

How could she do it?

The ethereal hand reached out and touched her head, commanding her once more to stand. Willing her against her own body and her own thoughts. Irid thought that she couldn't, that it might have been over so soon.

However, the suffocating crush against her lungs seemed to relent, as if she had been smothered prior by an oppressive blanket of darkness and it had only just now been lifted. Strength seemed to flow from out of nowhere, breathing new vitality into the slave.

Once more the voice urged her to stand, to carry on.

This time she could.

Slowly Irid pushed herself off of the wall and back to her feet, keeping the lightsaber hilt clutched in her hand as she continued the journey ever deeper into the tomb.

---

[member="Vrak Nashar"]

 

[Vrak Nashar]

[member="Irid"]

The voice stayed silent as she traveled down the darkened halls, but it was there.

Irid would still feel the pressure, the odd sort of net that had weaved its way around her mine. It seemed to hang there within the air, lurking, watching, waiting with open arms. It was like a mother seeking embrace, a lost child trying to find it's way home.

Was Irid home?

The voice did not ask these questions. It said nothing as she moved through the darkside, it only seemed to grow ever more present as she made her way towards the center of the tomb. Light seemed to grow even dimmer, the world became smaller. Time itself seemed to slow.

The presence became all encompassing as a door appeared ahead of her. Massive stone and carved with the tale of the lady who had once risen within these walls. As Irid stood open them the voice finally whispered to her once more.

"Open."

There was a loud groan, and then the stone parted.