The Tree I Planted

[Lief]

Thank you, for mercy

~ The final words of a dying man, to the child who had torn him from the Galaxy. More so than this, the child who had ceased not only his life but his rest too. @[member='Azar the Mystic'], the thorn in Saeldar's side, the spirit who had clung onto the material world in hopes of converting a member of the damned. So far he had failed, but because of this he remained in a state of unrest. For four long years Saeldar had endured him, often at the expense of those too closed-minded to see the spectral form often at her side, or close by. She knew that this was a test of some sort, of her endurance, her patience... Or maybe the former-Ewok still believed he could bring her to the light. That has been tried, tested and failed. No, Saeldar was beyond redemption.

Since Azar's death on Metalorn the girl that was Kära Vi'dreya had undergone change, internal tumult and corruption. Never had she been so immersed in the darkness that was both suffocating and necessary. It had engulfed her, and she had embraced it all too willingly, casting aside her former self, the weak child that she had been, the Family she had come to know, to lose, to break apart from, it was all unnecessary, it was all in the past, cast into the flames like an unread note. And from such flames Saeldar had been reborn anew. None within the Empire knew that this Apprentice, who had gone through a complete change of appearance on top of everything else, was Kära, nor that she was Umbaran... That was, no one save @[member='Tyrin Ardik']. But that was to be expected.

She had succeeded in the ultimate detachment... From one's own identity. It had been a necessary transition, to the world the child she had been was dead, slaughtered as part of a Jedi Counter Attack to the events which had transpired on Metalorn, as revenge against the loss of a Good Jedi Knight ~ if only they knew the truth. But it was better this way, she had become nameless, without a pre-determined entity, she was finally a shadow. That was, to all save one. The thorn. This thorn in my side is from the tree I planted she would often muse, indifferently. The annoyance she sometimes felt at having what was effectively a spectral stalker was in turn used to fuel the very thing the Ewok was trying to counteract, Saeldar's inner darkness, but otherwise she ignored his presence, like a persistent heat-maddened fly buzzing at a window... The window of my life. He could monitor her as and when he desired, it was out of her control, and thus she feigned ignorance.

Saeldar was being groomed into a weapon for the Empire, a knife in the dark... Her natural prowess in deception and stealth had increased profoundly over the course of the past few years, honed to near-perfection. While still lacking any physical strength, she had found her muse where lightsaber form was concerned, through use of Makashi, the strict footwork and delicate styling of which had only aided in her shadowed abilities. Light of foot, sleight of hand, she could enter and leave without detection in most situations, a vast improvement to former years. Each day was a further challenge, wherein she was pushed to her limits. Even the slightest of mistakes was not tolerated, and while it was difficult, taxing even, she found it to be highly beneficial. I will never be weak she still vowed, perhaps the only part of her old identity she still retained.

 

[Lord Depravious]

This ignorance.. This arrogance.. It all disgusted Lord Depravious. The girl that he had found had so much potential, but not as this seperate personality, as Kara. For one to disconnect from themselves, to Lord Depravious was like killing themselves. Perhaps they would attempt to justify it with something along the lines of, "Well I was merely killing the weak parts of me." Yet, that was not what a true warrior resembled to Lord Depravious. A true warrior was so much more. A true warrior was not someone who just focused on combat, but instead strove to be perfect at whatever it was they were good at. They accepted themselves, and rose from sheep to lions. Lord Depravious slowly clenched his right hand into a fist whilst watching the girl from the shadows. His brothers and sisters that died in that war, they were not all the best in combat, but they were the best at what they strove to do and be. Osamu was not the greatest at fighting, granted he fought like a true warrior, but he was loyal. Not because that's what the sith wished of him, but that's because he as a person was loyal, and he strove to be the most loyal. When his loyalties were torn, he made his decision crystal clear..

A true warrior, was not someone that severed themselves from their weakness, but accepted their weaknesses and ascended to divinity with them.. The Sith Strove to be perfect, but to be perfect you must accept every side of you, you must be able to do everything perfectly. You must be able to kill with nobility, with honor, with malice, with hatred. All of these things were things that did not go well in death, they did not go well in killing, but you must be able to not only comprehend all of those things in killing someone you must also be able to facilitate and portray it. The severance of ones self could do nothing of the sorts.. And thus, Lord Depravious finally stepped from the shadows, his boots thudding along the moist dirt as he walked up to the girl. Her guise would not fool him, he was after all the one whom found her.

And this girl thought of herself as being fashioned into a weapon? Lord Depravious nearly spit on the ground at the notion as it crossed his mind. We are not objects, we are not tools to be used for the Emperor, or the Dark Lord of the Sith to merely fashion into what he or she likes and be thrown away when they're done. The Sith are individuals, out spoken, the ones who fight the silence. The intricacies to the Sith are un-comprehensible, unlike the intricacies of a weapon that one merely used to cut down their enemies. The Sith were proud people. Some of them leaned more on the arrogant side, yet those were only sheep. The true pride of the Sith Order rested within it's very core. The Ideology of something more then the Jedi had, there was an art to being a Sith. Instead of walking outside like a machine, not seeing and recognizing the different colors, the Sith could, and that alone was something to fight for. This, "fashioning into a weapon" business would no longer stand as long as Depravious stood on Sith soil.

His cape slid slowly along the ground as he approached her, collecting the slight bits of moist ground that had separated themselves from the hard packed down rock and mud that had lasted upon that planet for eons. Lord Depravious's presence strengthened, a presence that the girl should know all too well. His face full of scorn, his aura full of depression, full of absolute sadness. The hands that reached up and grabbed him after the battle had ended, now reached outwards from his aura. The purest manifestation of the force, the greatest manifestation of the force lay right there in his aura. Each one of the hands reached outwards, grabbing the girl in an almost physical manifestation of the force before he spoke. "Greetings Kara" The Sith Lord spoke, his voice pristine as the words floated from his lips into the air around the room.. He wouldn't play her little games anymore, he was blunt for a reason.. Everything had a reason, and there was always a test.. A test within a test is what his brother used to say..

 

[Lief]

There, stood amidst the dirt, Saeldar waited. Her curved hilt had settled within the grip of her dominant left hand, thumb settled over the ignition, eyes fixated on the sandstone ruins ahead. Far from the Academy itself, Korriban had become quite the wasteland, or perhaps it had always been this way. It was there, amidst the desolation, that the girl had taken herself into self-imposed isolation. It would not last, for that had not been the purpose of doing so. Darkness swirled around her as she drew upon the innermost depths of her soul, the very core of her being, without any external signs marking the raging emotions which lay within. It was rare that she showed herself to be rash, and while she did not lack the fuel to ignite the flames she kept it well hidden; a shadow could not draw attention to itself, and thus Saeldar was usually seen to be calm and collected, speaking in a rational manner, even if she were taken by a sudden flare of passion, or emotion.

Believing herself to be alone, although a nagging chill had begun to spread down her neck, urging her to turn and look, the girl allowed it all to build up, to consume her for a brief moment in time, to release it. It tired her to uphold such a fake persona, and there were many times she regretted indulging in the idea at all, but she had come this far in the latter four years. Kära or Saeldar, it makes no difference of the name ~ that is only what the world sees. But could she really believe that? During times such as these her thoughts would linger back to a time before Saeldar, and before even Kära was known to the Galaxy, back on Umbara before Zarathustra left, before the child followed and lost it all. The relentless tracking, following her would-be-sister through Space, drawing on the bond they had shared... Only for the light to become extinguished the moment she reached the village on Maramere. Had the Force other plans?

She had once been told as much, but those days were long since gone, and the girl had learnt that you had to pave your own way through life or risk becoming a pawn to another's game. Which is precisely what has happened. This realisation hit her hard, but in another way she knew it were not so. Or such is what I make them believe. Because, if truth be told Saeldar had definitely been making her own way, separate of Tyrin's plans for her. The Ashborn she had subjugated, the man reborn as hell-spawn, taken by Circe yet claimed by Saeldar herself. Even now the Witch as Thyrian liked to name her was searching for her lost-experiment, all the while Saeldar watched and waited for the opportune time to strike. To be crushed by your own experiment... The irony of it was almost humorous... Yet the girl knew that there was time yet before such plans would fall into place ~ for one she was not yet ready to reveal him. Her deception was not yet complete.

Finally the presence she had felt flared into life, while her body became rooted into place. Saeldar did not even attempt to struggle against it, instead she closed her eyes and breathed in deeply, focusing. The individual she could sense was extremely familiar to her, one she would never have forgotten. Aside from Zarathustra he was the first person she had ever sensed through the Force, his presence had imprinted itself on her mind, as though the Force itself had not wanted her to forget him. But it had been seven years since his disappearance, Saeldar had given up hope of ever seeing him again... "Depravious" she said, moments after he spoke her true name. Something about the way he said it, however, made the hairs on the back of her neck rise. Why had he returned, how had he found her here, and why could she sense disappointment beneath his voice?

@[member="Lord Depravious"]

 

[Lord Depravious]

This young poor girl, she had no clue who she was, she had lost herself in all of her deepest darkest desires, and Lord Depravious knew it. He had been watching her for quite some time now, hidden in the shadows watching as the Sith Empire crumbled and rose again, watching as people ran and came to the Empire. As he spoke, his voice danced from the edges of his lips and into the air. The air itself reverberated around her ears displaying the noise, but it was also a symbolic gesture of power. Depravious and his brothers had trained so heavily in the force that they were able to manipulate atoms in the air around them. Slowing the atoms down to cool them and create a cryofreeze state around people, or speed them up to the point of combustion. When his eyes narrowed down to the back of her head, his piercing gaze cut through the back of her head, he was disgusted, and his face showed it. "How dare you." He began to speak.

For a moment he paused though, allowing it to sink into the girl to know just how disappointed he was, how saddened he was by her choices. "I brought you to the Sith Empire not to be twisted and contorted into this monster you have allowed yourself to become.. When I found you upon Umbara you were beautiful, and now you have become this.." As he spoke, his voice grew deeper in his sadness, " You could have been a priestess of the Order.. So feared when you went into battle that your battle cries shook people down to their very core, it shook their essence.. And now what have you become?" The Sith Lord gazed upon the girl, his senses on high alert. Every spec of her was being analyzed, she had after all become a mere demon, a tool to be unleashed at the bidding of this so-called Emperor. Should she attack he would most definitely be ready; however, it wasn't what he wanted. He had struck down enough of his brothers and sisters. He was the pitbull of the Empire before he took the throne over, the internal affairs.. Their blood still stained his hands, and he would never forgive Lord Shadow for the devastation that he caused in the Sith Empire.

And yet, here she stood.. The Animal that the Sith Empire bid her to be.. As he began to speak once more, his face contorted into a disgusted look.. The sides of his mouth tipped downwards, his nose scrunched up and he brought his chin slightly upwards, "What have you become my dear?" He slowly shook his head for a moment, while he finished the rhetorical question.. When he began to speak again, knowing that she would not interject until he was done because of the power he held in just his left hand, his sadness returned, "I disappeared to watch your progress, to let you make your own choices, to let you grow on your own.. And instead you disconnect yourself from who you really are and merely plot. You allow yourself to succumb to the dark desires the Sith tell you it's okay to succumb to.. Do you know how to reach perfection my dear..? It's not through engulfing yourself in the darkside, it's taking the Darkside over.. It's being able to kill someone from a noble position and be honorable while still having a ravaging anger about you. It's being able to hold eons of rage and sadness within yourself and only unleashing it at the precise time that it's needed.."

In the middle of his sentence, the Sith Lord in a flash brought his blade to the side of Kara's face. It's cold steel blade slowly caressing the side of her face, kissing the skin that lay upon her cheek. The sadness that was kept within this blade was unimaginable, it was forged just like his axe in the fires of his ancestors hatred. Their hatred for him, and their hatred for all those whom betrayed him. On the side of it there was a carved insignia labeled Paer Vorstyili it stood for, "Darkness shall remain" in the tongue of his ancestors. The blood of many had soaked this blade; his enemies blood, his friends blood, his lovers blood, and if Kara was not careful with her next moves it could be her blood that would soak this blade next. The failed Thyraeselar, is what he would label her should she be struck down on this day.

"You must be careful Kara.. Turn into an animal, and I shall strike you down like one." His voice was much deeper now, a power resonated deep within his lungs. His face also was much more jaded at this point, she had almost in this moment proven to him that she was an animal just following in the footsteps of Lord Shadow. She would seemingly do anything to attain and keep power it seemed.. Each of these things came to Depravious in a matter of moments when he saw her.. He would do everything he could to save the girl that he so desperately wished would have made it through the order without being tainted by it's dishonor, or by it's ravaging ways. Should she not, she would merely have been a failure of Lord Depravious, and something that he must end before she ravaged the Order more.