Public The Weight of Passing (Apprentice Seeking/Interruption Thread)

[Lord Reficite]

Ziost
Several Miles away from the Sith Citadel
Late Morning​

Time never did seem to slow down, Darth Reficite always knew this. He was surprised though all the time, at what structures could remain even after a normal humans lifespan, much less one that has been constructed over a millennia or longer. Though like all things, nothing can stand up to the passage of time, not even the tombs of the Sith. Standing before a large statue, he glanced up to remark the structure as one he had visited more than a few occasions. The mask betrayed no emotion from the Sith Lord, the eyes looking towards the face of the statue as it had long since eroded away from the many years since it was constructed. The structure around it, had fallen apart from its walls, most of the stones most likely stolen or thrown away in the many snow storms of Ziost. That...or the people he once knew, came back to dismantle what was a sign and lesson against Reficite, along with those that defied the Old Order.

"We have both made our mistakes...mine is numerous but yours was fatal...my old apprentice."

Looking back down, he let the cold, frigid air surround him. It was a site of pilgrimage for a very long time for the Dark Lord, a reminder of what he had failed towards and things to rectify many years down the road. Even in death, not a month goes by without a crossing thought of what he would have done different. Even after over two millennia, the idea of teaching once more was a daunting task to him, but one that started to grow stronger since his rebirth. Eventually, he would have to move on, find a way to pass down what he knew before his life ends forever...he never denied that someday, the Force will deny his revival. It was only a matter of when. With the wind howling stronger, he slowly took a step forward and let his left hand glide over the statues eroded marble.



(This is a thread to seek for an apprentice(s) or for anyone to interrupt, whether it be Jedi, Pilgrim, or simply a passerby. Post as you wish!)

 

[Taresa Kae]

Ever-Conflict, the lasting legacy, and the continuum of Kethenites.​

The old order. How old? How much tradition was sort, and how far did ambitions extend? Ziost wasn't completely uninhabited, One sith Kethenite zealots inhabited several hidden sites. The galaxy had failed to purge their kind numerous times, though some had tried. Probably the most zealous of all was judgment, or the kae killer, in her eyes, all were tested before the Sith code.

Stealthfield on, concealed in the force, she was like a ghost. Like all the traditions of Ziost she sort to judge. Feeding off creatures unlucky enough to be hunted, just to survive the largely barren lands that remained. Her master was an actual ghost, a former shell of a Sith lord, like the traditions she held true.

There was the sound of very light footsteps, but no other sign. Completely concealed, the apex assassin and why she still lived. But that's all she was, an object, tool, a weapon to use, that's where one of her unrealized weaknesses was.

The Kae Killer walked around a distance from him, like she was sensing for weakness or fear.

Another small sound, very soft and faint, a distance to his left. These were assassins' footsteps and very careful. A Sith Lord might sense danger from somewhere to that side. On cue, in a flash a holoprojector came alive behind him, it showed a One Sith Kethenite adorned in golden runic armor. Projecting a legacy that had realistically decayed into dust, in some kind of magnificent fresh image.

"Who treads toward the history of our legacy?" The holoprojection stated.

All this was a ruse to let the assassin get a step closer. Nothing here was safe, in her eyes, no Sith ever should feel safe.

 

[Lord Reficite]

The Dark Lord of Rebirth could not even hear the footsteps approached. The howling of the winds blew past him and shrouded each step, making it almost nigh impossible to hear. To long was the man in the helmet still pondering over lifes existence, the ideas of what could been done and not done in the past. Living in the past almost itself, remembering when this statue was erected in the Siths honor. Rather suddenly, a voice pierced through the howling winds, a voice that demanded to know: "Who treads toward the history of our legacy?"

Darth Reficite paused for a moment, as if thinking but then turned with his voice growing in strength when he spoke. Each word carried weight, his stature straightened up completely and broad. The masks eyes, yellow, beamed directly into the hologram without realizing it at first with the words escaping from behind the mask.

"I am the Reborn, I'm the Dark Lord of Rebirth. I was the Advisor to the Emperor while having served on the Dark Council, the Battlemaster of the Sith Empire. I am over two thousand and seven hundred years old, fought through two major Civil Wars and we stand on my apprentices tomb whose legacy is more worthy than the golden armor you wear!"

As each word came out, the force signature of Darth Reficite increased by almost a degree. Getting closer to him would result in feeling pain, almost eternal suffering and hatred coming out towards him. His anger, his hatred, his suffering all came out at once, the dark side webbed and flowed violently around him. Finally, it reached its peak and it became difficult to get closer than five feet, his whole body embodied by Waves of Darkness, hiding parts of his own body while also causing great unease near him. All the while, he could start to sense something amiss as his head started to turn, agitated yet wary.
Taresa Kae

 

[Taresa Kae]

Dogmatic to the point of rigidity, Taresa still hadn't walked in the trials of the sith code. Her Master had died before she was fully trained as a Sith, lacking the practical trials a well-trained apprentice might face. When the feeling of suffering, hatred, and anger rolled around Reficite like a maelstrom, it utterly shattered her concentration, which meant her force concealment was completely broken. For a second she was still invisible to the eye but while she recovered he could sense her directly about ten feet away.

A black mirrored silhouette in the force, one hand dipped to the ground to steady herself. His proclamation was strength, legacy, and power. Older than she was, which she never had expected to find. The cutting judgment of the assassin was withheld, for now.

The golden speaker seemed satisfied that he wasn't weak or easily cowed. It spoke a command in a dead sith language, and judgment's stealth field dropped. Still dipped to steady herself, her silhouette was a like broken mirror projected around herself by her suit. Hard to make out and reflecting light, even while visible her identity was masked, changed a hundred times for each mission. She was nothing. No one. A tool for the preservation of the code.

The projection spoke. "The dead illuminate our path, we preserve their tombs. Killing those who desecrate them. " It was a small detail but it gave many of them purpose, and explained the welcome he had received. Perhaps giving away it wasn't just a projection, but an old dead guardian speaking from his dead chambers somewhere. Keth was actually for the first time speaking to someone older than he was. If such a thing were possible, he was off-balance.

Two other kethenites approached, both easily seen in the force, younger and untainted by anything but ritual devotion to dead sith tombs. Their faces were painted and anointed with the preservation of the site and others. Hidden mostly by their hoods. They were solemn but focused, and healthy, both were force users.

Lord Reficite

 

[Lord Reficite]

Hearing a dead language of the Sith...that Darth Reficite did not know of was not only rare, but an accomplishment. Words of the Sith carry great power, power that he always wished to keep acquiring...he will need to ensure that he learns this phrase in the near future. Watching a stealth field turn off nearby, the Dark Lord of Rebirth looked to the side rather slowly to acknowledge the person that had appeared. He would not admit he did not sense her...but he would not admit either through body language his own surprise. Stealth was never something he truly excelled at...and this person snuck up on him better than most.

When the words of the holoprojection spoke again, he would consider his answer wisely as his head started to turn back towards the figure in question. Perhaps someone was close by...perhaps someone was even still alive and not just projecting an audio log or some thoughtful A.I. When two others started to make their approach, he could see far off their hoods and ornate outfits, seeming focused and healthy, Letting the wind howl for a moment, he spoke up with what he considered truthful but also wary of his words of consequence.

"When I was alive, going through the traps of the tombs, to understand their struggles and even the chance to speak with the wraiths that inhabited them, to fight in their challenges for reward was more than enough. The ability to bring back from the dead any of those that have been dead even for so long, may even be the greatest of task...if the sacrifice was not so incomprehensible. No, I do not seek to discrete nor revive my greatest student...for he had been my greatest failure. The Betrayer of the Empire....the cause of our Civil War."

Turning very slowly, he finally disregarded them. Perhaps he knew that even in death, he would just return once more. Perhaps the next time, he would be more ready than before. Looking towards the statue, he merely stared at it before speaking once more, his head turned towards the would been assassin, as if to pose a question.

"What would you have picked...the one that had shown the greatest promise of a new era...or the one that had kept a firm grip of the old era? Both equal in stature, in power, in troops and those that devoted loyalty? One that had been trained by you...the other that had brought the previous new age with you?"
Taresa Kae

 

[Taresa Kae]

People didn't speak to judgment in anything but fear. The mirrored silhouette ahead of him couldn't recall the last time someone had asked her a meaningful question. Pushing off her hand to return herself upright. She looked to the projection of the golden figure but it didn't speak as it usually did for her. Choosing her words carefully.

"Without the code we are nothing." She judged. She'd watched over it so long, killed those that had strayed, hunted them across stars. @Hana Kae "Tradition is our foundation. Binding us." These were almost Keth's words repeated but there were her own thoughts on them to follow.

"When purpose fades, hearts grow weak. Answers are sort elsewhere with no foundation to their questions." There was a cutting to her words. Like the dagger she'd used to end those weaker hearts. Spite rolled off her tongue. She had seen so many sith empires come and go, left to the next new idea or Sith Lord's whim.

Keth's ghostly armored shell took the place of the golden image. Each passing year it seemed to fade more. He was watching the assassin, judging judgment. There was more to add. "Only a tradition that encompasses the cycle of rebirth, the rise and fall, can survive." Keth's gritted ghostly voice stated. You could hear his training in Judgment, his words similar, but it was incomplete. For Keth you couldn't fight man's nature, only encompass and embrace it. The strongest magnified and celebrated the cycle. Keth was speaking to what the other Sith Lord had declared earlier, if he caught and understood the meaning.

The two watching ritual acolytes moved to the tomb and began to tidy it. Not disturbing the monuments, or fixing broken stones that could not stand, only keeping the traditions clean. They were thorough and attentive, almost competing with each other for who did the better job.

Lord Reficite

 

[Lord Reficite]

"Tradition lasts as long as we wish to be. The first line of the Sith Code....Peace if a Lie. Tradition is a foundation of supposed peace...and order. We give ourselves into passion, our loyalty to Tradition. We believe the Tradition will be the strength, the unity that brings people together. With those people, we strive to use the tradition as power, to rally those who respect your ways to their cause. With those who use the power, to manipulate or crush those opposed...victory becomes inevitable. The chains of the limitations of what your tradition can do, are broken, you are freed by the Force...unless you decide instead, to break free of those traditions to become truly free in your own right."

Turning, he had long waited for them to have stopped talking. It was rather nice to see someone take care of the apprentices last rites, his tomb even so far later into death. Though the reasoning, the idea of why may have been lost to time. Speaking once more, he watched the duo from where he still stood, arms slowly crossing as he let his mask slowly look upwards.

"When purpose fades, hearts go weak. No...the will of people starts to fade. They lost sight of what is important, what defines them. To await to being given purpose, shows weakness and those with no will. Those who seek to find purpose...will never have their will grow weak and their hearts die with a whimper. To quote a man I once known...great power is not simply given, it is thrust upon them. Whether you decide to let it happen, to take that purpose once sought and become even more...or to let yourself fade away with others taking the mantle. I have done so much in the honor of purpose and tradition...and much had been thrust upon me. Some day...perhaps you will understand-" The eyes of the Dark Lord of Rebirth once more rest upon the would been assassin. "-why I spoke of tradition in the way I have done."

"The cycle of rebirth...I know it so well. I know that none of us can compete with time...none of us. Some day, we will all be gone...forever snuffed out like a candle. Some day...this place will be no more and with it, possibly no more tradition. The cycle of life though, will never end...languages may go, traditions may die, stones may rot away...but existance of itself, will never end. With that...that is the true cycle of rebirth. To create new languages, new traditions and build upon greater things. Whether or not we exist decades or centuries more...is what we teach now instead of later."

Finally, the Dark Lord of Rebirth finally silenced himself. He had been a philosophical man most of his life and had much time to think about every action he had done and how life would change in the near future. It would been no surprise for anyone to have confused or even grasped every word he said, though he stood with the passage of time and deep understanding of what the Sith Code can mean. Even when explaining elsewhere, it seemed like stepping stones in the Sith Code. Darth Reficite had long breathed, had long known and long spoken the mysteries of such a strange set of words. But they were guiding stones of his life, guiding stones of future generations. The eyes glanced though at the acolytes though, wondering if they even understood what was even said...or if it was to soon for souls such as themselves to be guided.

Taresa Kae

 

[Taresa Kae]

Judging his words, his worth, and his instruction on tradition. It was in her nature and unavoidable. "Our tradition is to preserve the cycle of conflict. Our highest law. It breaks every chain it encounters" Except for itself and all the weight it carried... That was rehearsed. Next was one hundred percent her voice, finding her own beliefs tested. "What changes that spits in the face of what was before." It ate up the history, with no respect for the code, wars, and legacies past. Emotion, spite, anger. A strength of history, but also a weakness that she had been hammered into rock, to be like a rock and unchanging. Such thoughts threatened to test what self-identity the assassin retained.

Hearing all he said of purpose. She listened much more than she spoke. Mirrored and reflected identity, blending into everything and everyone. Each new identity gave her an innate purpose. Yet… To await being given purpose. That cut home quite hard on the acolyte. Cutting jealousy within her pricked along her neck. She'd felt contained, or better yet entombed for eight lifetimes. "Yes." Judging herself perhaps for the first time, the mirrored figure nodded slowly. Shut away from the galaxy to singularly preserve the code. To her credit there was no other flinch or movement, but the emotion was there again. A raw untapped potential.

We will be gone but the code will remain, she thought to herself, the long conflict will endure. "While others preserve this legacy, it remains" She took a step closer, as if a fragment of identity was more imposed now on the moment. "When the cycles claim us, we will have been too weak, and past our use." Old, she still wasn't old enough to believe that all things end, not when this belief system of an ever-conflict endured. No matter how faded or how much it crumbled, they were still here. The work still continued.

"Mountain shaper." A teenage girl cleaning the tomb said in a broken basic, looking up, unflinching, and with no fear. Not mountain walker or breaker, "cut best stone when fall in valley." Rocks fell, sorted into best stones, and shaped into homes. Sometimes rocks fall on homes, and new homes were built from them. Her face was marked like a Khagnate wildling, one of the tribals the Kethenites had seeded with Valarith Coins to shape their development. The boy with her carried on with his task, using the opportunity to get more done while she paused.

Lord Reficite

 

[Lord Reficite]

While everything was going on, those that worked, those that moved...he listened. It was great to have potential debate among others, to hear what others would say. Looking away still, he heard still something of just embodiment. So many would say this sounded so much more similar to those of the Mandalorian culture, something he been proud to have avoided as much as possible. Though her words over how the cycles can claim the others, it made him finally turn his head, not slowly this time but in a snap. That...had caught the Sith Lords attention, those words held weight. There was talk that made sense, with a very slow raise of his left hand, he gave a point towards her with the left hand, curled up in a black gloved ball with his index finger pointing and nodded rather slowly with his head craned to the side.

"Yesss....but our bodies, our lives is the foundation of all other life. Their legacy, is not beholden to our own...no, it will become their own individual, their own creed of life, their own path to choose. The Legac-"

Then curiously, he was interrupted. The head of Darth Reficite would rise up in slight surprise before slowly turning to look at the person who spoke. A lady, young as she appeared, seemed to spoke with no fear. Almost like defiance...as if to speak the mountain would be shaped? The stone....best cut when it fell...slowly the dark eyes looked down upon her. There was something unusual, to hear someone just speak through his own speech mid-sentance...it reminded him of someone long ago. Someone he would rather put in the tomb in its place then....finally, he broke his gaze from her.

"You are right...the best stones come from that mountain. So much of it built our homes...our training halls...our way of life."

There was something unusual this time, pain perhaps? His eyes now trailed towards the mountain from afar, as if staring at it from far away.

"I was the one who told him that I was long overdue for death. I had grown weaker from my actions...oh so much secrets I had uncovered, as powerful as I ever became...but that same use, that same power...drained me greatly. I could tap so deeply into the Force...I could have challenged the Emperor himself, the Dark Council feared me for what I was capable of...the influence I carried. But I grew old, that same power now reduced my abilities in the Force...to near nothing."

Glancing down at his own hands, he lifted them up slowly as if to place them on the ridges of the mountain so far off and away.

"I was...so ready to let it all go. All Sith...fear Death, they all feared losing Power. All I was afraid of...was all the knowledge I had, vanishing away as if it became nothing. So I challenged him...he killed me. I languished away in the Netherworld, far far away. Why come back? I did not have to make...anything, my life was complete...my life..."

That ending set of words was of anger, he shook in it before finally letting his hands down. Breathing in, it seemed unusual for a Sith to have any control over his anger, much less this much for past events. Speaking out once more, he turned to the one cutting stone and answered at long last.

"The stone you polish here? That stone...was from our Civil War, our second one. This whole site...was built in the remains of that battle. A battle that...made me realize how much of the cycle, I was not finished with. The Emperor gave me this name....I was Darth Renatus first, meaning Reborn. When I came the second time, I became Reficite...Rebirth. I was reborn...to live the cycle again...to bring other cycles to life and end others."

The words finally ended, as if he had lost his voice. The wind would howl a bit again but he seemed to have said his peace. Whether or not it taught or shown anything, remains to be seen.
Taresa Kae

 

[Taresa Kae]

One time Keth had thought as Reficite did, that individuals brought their own power, and shaping that power built a stronger acolyte, a stronger code and a stronger Sith. Perhaps decay and isolation had claimed much of his old vision, forcing him to rely on what he knew at the expense of the future. For Judgment she listened because it was familiar, and she agreed in part. Much as it cut her temperament like the knives she carried, glistening along her stealthsuit. When he pointed her mirrored form nodded once.

Cultivating fear was a useful tool she had long decided. "To inspire fear is useful." If he had been stronger, "why not kill the emperor and take his place?" Judgment's cutting voice asked. She had seen a demonstration of his power, was his work more important than any rank? Practicality to the way the Echani spoke when free of Keth's influence.

Like the Sith Lord she spoke to. It might be said their decaying order was responsible for helping spark a minor civil war, one of many naturally occurring fractures. Centax had challenged Braith directly to a Kaggath at a gathering before the emperor, which had formed the Sith Keepers, but the divisions were already there before they had arrived.

She sensed anger seeking root to grow. "If your purpose was ended you would not be here." Especially here on this world. The Kae Killer judged, but her voice wasn't as sharp as usual, more reminiscent of her own duty. It wasn't her place to inspire him to the greatness he was capable of, but that was Keth's way to unlock potential, and his influence lingered on her mind.

Addressing the ritualists, they looked at the stone they worked dutifully on. "Shaper of Rebirth. Wisdom. Live many lifetimes. What cycles shaper see?" Seeking answers for today at this moment. Her tribal vocabulary was lacking finesse. Both had stopped their work to listen and both had walked closer. Carrying barbaric weapons, etched in a dead sith language, taken from a once-living Sith Sphere. The male was chanting something under his breath, barely audible, he walked forward and drove his axe into the ground to see how the Sith Lord would react.

Was it a challenge of territory, or a mark of respect offering his blade? He didn't look much older than the girl, barely a couple of years. They were savages but dedicated to their tasks, and seemingly put here for a reason. Strength sometimes only needed the right spark. Keth always had a plan within a plan.

Lord Reficite

 

[Lord Reficite]

Why shouldn't he have taken the Emperors spot? That question lingered in his mind for a few seconds, he knew the reason as to why. Though revealing it...at this moment, there was not much left not to reveal, at least for now. Giving a long gaspful sigh, he admitted it.

"I did...in theory. I lost my mind in power, the very same I mentioned that made me become so much weaker. I sought after it...over and over. I fell into the pit of madness, we dueled in the Citadel in the middle of other Acolytes practicing. They all thought we were showing off...instead, he was fighting for his life and myself, fighting to keep my power. The Emperor beat me of course...he could have ended me in the tradition of Kaggath but refused. I pondered why so often...but he pulled me from my madness. This was when he decided I was no longer fit for the Dark Council...and instead to become his adviser. Perhaps he wanted to keep me close as an enemy...or perhaps he knew, I just be an example to everyone else. I pondered many reasons...but I never came to one definitive conclusion."

"After all that, I decided it was best to let my legacy be brought forward. That is when Darth Necrid, the one at our feet...came into the fold."

"I do not lie when I say I always know my purpose in life. Almost two thousand years of waiting, after the destruction of my first....well, artifact, I came back towards from this planet. Awakening in a pool so far underground, I would not know how to return towards it. So many caverns...exist under the planet. So much secrets...maybe it was just time to return. I know the limitations of my power, as much as I know to be careful on not diving so far in, to forget who we are."

The others asked another question, something made him smile under his mask. Shaper of Rebirth, he somewhat liked that little name that was come up with. Before he could even speak, he noticed the male walking forward with an axe picked up...he could sense the strangeness of the axe, notice the sith language written on the side. When it was drove into the ground, cutting near the tomb, the Sith Lord remained deathly quiet before letting his left hand touch the eyeholes of his own mask, a black liquid started to run down it. It resembled blood and anyone with a shred of sensitivity, could see small white wisps coming out of the eyeholes as it surrounded the axe itself.

"I have lived now eight times....I lived as a soldier, a spy, a Jedi, a Sith....a lover, a seducer, a husband, a father. A betrayer, an assassin, a master of battle, the chosen to end others....I lived long enough to wield death as it was life. The words become empty, the metal becomes etched, meaning becomes useless, its blade become dull. Titsû qyâsik tnoi dro, Titsû ri Zuchjura tadti' dro, Titsû ri ridis driuni dro, Titsû sis shimina tuti tinri!"

The Sith chanting, no the High Sith chanting rang through the air, the bleeding seemed to increase drastically with a sudden shimmer of black surrounding the blade, lasting for at least ten seconds. It felt as if fire had drenched around it, setting it ablaze in a twisted flame of the Dark Side. Finally, it would die down as the axes edge seemed to be a glowing orange, almost exhibiting a faint hum from the axes blade itself. The words seemed more etched in, it felt more...complete.

"If one is to wield such a weapon, with words long lost of ours...one must be able to have it be unleashed onto our enemies. The Words....have power."


Taresa Kae

 

[Taresa Kae]

Common traits of kethenites were to fall to the abyss, consumed by their own training or worse to defile themselves as fallen sith to become Jedi. When Reficite spoke the projection stirred once more but said nothing, a lingering pressure wanted to creep out of the image. They all had more in common here than he knew, maybe that was a reason for the meeting, diving too deep can lead to the ultimate decay of everything else.

"Threat keeps us sharp, to live with no rival is to invite weakness." Taresa judged why the Emperor might have kept the Lord alive. In reality, she would have killed a defeated opponent. Judging daily brought plenty of rivals. He might not be as strong as the Emperor, but then who was, and the fact he HAD challenged the Emperor brought her intense concentration. She listened to all he said, but he was better equipped to judge his apprentice than she was, his death was the only judgment she had to see.

As the old language of Sith became new once more, the young male barbarian reached for the axe. Jealousy in his sister's eyes when he raised the searing blade. The Sith Lord spoke rebirth in his voice! The wildling turned the axe and looked over the blade. Marking a cut upon his palm and letting the oath drip to the floor. He then knelt before Reficite, again no words, the weapon held tight to his chest. It actually burned the language into his hand but he did not release it. Enduring the pain for his pledge to be real, clearly struggling but holding true.

The words have power.

The female wildling look at her own blade, clenching her jaw, a feral expression as she clenched her fist around her own weapon, tensing. Chanting, chanting but loudly, her head and hands raised to the sky. There were some pronunciation issues with all her speech but, "Titsû qyâsik tnoi dro, Titsû ri Zuchjura tadti' dro, Titsû ri ridis driuni dro, Titsû sis shimina tuti tinri! Shaper of Rebirth." An eidetic memory displayed, nothing happened of course, lacking ability or understanding, but it was repeated more correctly than her broken attempts at basic. Perhaps the sky flickered momentarily, a foretelling of what was possible with training.

Keth had facilitated two ritualists to find a master of rituals. What happened next was out of his hands. "Until forever." The ghostly projection gave the Darth one last look and vanished.

Lord Reficite

 

[Lord Reficite]

He had only listened this entire time, he let the words how a threat could kept the Emperor himself sharp, someone like him on the side. He never would admit what he truly thought, but it made more sense. The most dangerous people were on the Dark Council, Darth Reficite while not the most dangerous, was up there in terms of influence and cunning. It made him truly ponder thought the full outcome of the story...he kept silent, there was still portions not fully explained.

To see the feral savages...scratch that, curious species examining and seeing what he occurred out from his own words...it made him realize how much things had changed. Such an act thousands of years ago, would have been a simple nod and given thanks, maybe even some form of payment. But someone cutting their palm, letting it drip and kneeling to him as if he was a deity...it made him remember things, memories he had long tried to push back.

The other even tried to speak the ritual itself, the words of the Sith. He could feel the potential, he could feel the push on it...it was unique. His head was raised in surprise, no one could even recite it in such a manner, even if pronunciation was wrong, the words kept its worth as he could feel it coming through, the Force wishing to be wielded. With his left hand outstretched, the blade of hers could feel the energies of the Force, the attempt of invocation swell into it, to repair as the skies above that cackled for a brief moment, became more. When he heard the phrase from the hologram, the phrase of Until Forever...he only had one response with the black holes of his eyes almost pronouncing puddles of black looking towards the hologram.

"Until Eternity."​

"Combine with Binding, Combine with Ferocity! Tiwi na Zara! Tiwi na ri Naktis! Titiai kam oi shiyi Zûtazihri! Titiai kam tuti shiyi Zami! Zami Ir Qyâsik!"

Unlike previously, the weapon would not feel of fire, but felt shrouded into the night skies itself. It felt unusual, it felt invisible, every word seemed fair as the eyes once more on the mask bled that black liquid, the blood almost pouring now. With a bolt of heat lightning above them, it slowly started to fade away and the blade revealed...what had happened to it was now the wonder? Slowly, Darth Reficite lowered his hand and kept is posture...but it became evident. Two rituals, two weapons made...it took a small toll on him. There was no wisp of white smoke this time, there was no need....half of it was already completed, he only had to fulfil the other end.

Slowly, looking towards the two, he kept himself standing still without showing weakness. He could close the eyes behind his mask to recover for a moment, no one could truly see through. But...in a strange motion of weakness, he had started to speak once more, the thoughts now racing into his mind. No filter...just what his mind remembered.

"The Emperor...took my apprentice as his own, the Enforcer of the Empire...after a short time, my apprentice betrayed him, set a third of the Empire onto him. The prodigy...I watched souls come to the Netherworld, so many from both of their hands. I wondered when it would end...how it would end. They refused to face each other, they kept the war going on for so long...then my apprentice struck down...."

The voice finally of Darth Reficite stopped, the blood now stained onto the mask as he turned his head towards the apprentice, not speaking another word on the matter. His composure had returned...could it been blood loss? Turning towards the mountain once more, he stared at it as if thinking of something long and hard till finally...he once again spoke, his confidence returned.

"Near the east of the mountain, lies a cave with six pronounced pillars, uniformed of three on each side. The cave is of ice, crystal blue all around. Deep within...is Marauder Cheia final resting place, in a cavern filled with unique crystals. glowing in radiance...go inside and bring me one. You will know when it is seen, it will be unlike any other cave anyone has ever been in."

"Bring me one...size of at least a finger or thumb. Do so...and I will allow my knowledge to pass down. If each of you return, one of each required. Fail...I do not wish to see you again. Succeed...and I will teach you...and I will finish my story."

With that, Darth Reficite would speak no more, looking down though however at the male who kneeled to him earlier and giving a small curt nod towards him. He knew why he offered his oath towards him, but now he also challenged him further, to see what he can do.

Taresa Kae

 

[Taresa Kae]

Powerful energy shot the blade out of the female ritualist's hand, and she shouted to the heavens in ritual praise. Reaching for the fallen weapon to show she would equal her brother. The wildling's eyes dimmed with the touch on the hilt, pupils dilated to reflect the very alchemy she was given. Shadows touched her palm, threatening to grow across her arm, and sith alchemy rolled across her eyes. For a second her sight became as the words!

Not seeing weakness but power. Judgment watched the ritual's stated purpose, the old languages spoken were imposing and should be recorded. Her suit did so for posterity and archiving later. The assassin had already disappeared at his final word. Moving concealed in the force toward her target.

The sibling ritualists looked at each other, the male rose slowly and then moved toward where the Sith Lord had stated, still not a word, only the commitment in his eyes and chanting under his breath. Like he was comfortably capable of finding that which was sort, a tracker.

"Will not fail Shaper." The young female gave her own declared oath, her face had a huge smile. Her spirits soared high after his blessing! Running, fast lightfooted like the wind, the teenage girl was extremely agile over rough surfaces and stone. Hoping to slide along the rockface, her feet barely touched the ground. Almost like a certain fallen Jedi… who may yet be named, a weathered lineage evident in her blood.

Upon the mountain path, each had their own purpose in approach. It would not be long till they each found the chilling entrance.

From Tomb of Marauder Cheia.
Six pillars to guide within the gloom.
Into Bitter Cold ahead.
Three potentials sort to take hold.
Of their answers or their final fate.

Excerpt from the Book of…. ?

Despite the cold making her shiver, the female wildling entered moving with passion and purpose, the lingering shadow on her blade obscuring her hand, and the wisps of wind at her feet.

Second to arrive was the Kae assassin, silent as the graves she watched over, judging all the others that dared.

Third, the male chanter continued to declare his arrival quietly but confidently into the caverns, holding his axe proudly to his side, fire in his eyes.

What trials in this place awaited them they would soon see…

Lord Reficite

 

[Lord Reficite]

It was unusual, entering this place. The crystals shined in such...odd illumination. Blue and white crystals all around, bounce as if it was nothing. All throughout, it seemed rather peaceful...but something had corrupted part of it a long time ago. Parts of it felt...ruined, unused....bastardized. All throughout, the three would be challenged by a series of Mynocks...ones turned by the Dark Side of the Force. These Mynocks...they were smart, they would ambush anyone that got close, swarm whoever they can and try to rip them apart with razor like teeth. However they got here, they were smart enough to know how to hide with echo location...though those quiet or smart enough, may find ways to appease them.

Pathways deep within lead to a few locations. One of which was the opposite end of the mountain, having a now buried pathway...one was to wonder what was over there at some point but perhaps Darth Reficite would know. Another pathway would lead somewhere rather cold, something far fierce as the crystals were dim in this area. Right in the middle, was a Sceptor of some type with the sharp end buried into the crystals, almost made of some material like gold that shined brightly. It felt tempting...it felt so tempting for anyone to grab it. It was as if it had an important purpose. It felt as if though...something was watching over it.

Through another section of the tunnels, lead to what could only be described as a mass grave. All crumbled into a pile was of mummified corpses, people that never seemed to have been truly buried but with their skin being ripped out from other carnivores. There must have been dozen of corpses, stacked on top of the other. Littered along the walls, some now claiming it as the crystals grew, was their own weapons. Nature itself, was taking it back from them over time...though a gauntlet seems to be all that is left on the wall to acquire, dangling from a crystal like thread.

At one of the stranger forks, if guided by the Force or even tried to move somewhere warmer, one would finally see a shower of array of colors coming from one of the openings. Upon entering into it, the crystals would bounce all around, all unique to ones self...calling upon those that wished for them. These all were lightsaber crystals, several variations of color was in here from Green, Yellow, Red, Orange and even Pink. In the middle of the room, was an upright stone coffin with a transparisteel glass pane on the front. Mummified in his old state, was Marauder Cheia with black clothing. The Rodian, green as the day he was alive, held cupped together in his hands a bright white crystal. An inscription on the coffin, was in Basic.


"Marauder Cheia, Chronicler of Nature, Master of Growing. In Death, Your Greatest Creation Will Live On."


Whether or not, the white crystal within was the creation of the male rodian or not, would be a larger mystery. Apparently this was some strange...cultivation of crystals. Having grown mostly unchecked for over a thousand years, it seems ripe for harvesting. The latch on the coffin could be opened...but there is a small feeling of fear towards anyone that approaches it. The other crystals however, could be harvested...some veins even exist that seemed to be forming but was much smaller in color variations. There was even a strange vein that seems to refuse to grow, almost clear but not ready for harvest.

Taresa Kae

 

[Taresa Kae]

Within their trials had begun…

There was a pained shout as the male ritualist fought at close quarters with a mynock, showing some ferocity and courage as he leaped at it with his axe, finally cleaving it in two after getting a slash to his arm. Holding his glowing weapon up like a torch to repel the beasts. He ducked low and his sister carved one of the creatures flying toward him, almost fighting in tandem of a sort. The Mynock's wound glistened wispy black from her alchemized blade. She held her weapon up also and between them they shone a powerful signature of darkside alchemy. Their family bond was quite strong still, feeling little taint of the darkside to mistrust or question it yet. She gave him her hand to stand, and he hesitated but took it eventually.

Judgment was having a much easier time. So quiet and concealed. Walking through glimmering force hues of blue and white. Unlike the others she felt acclimatized to the lingering taint, being part of the path she walked. Mapping the entire structure deliberately, it was noted as an important part of Sith Legacy. All the way to the back of their mountain, seeking one day to unblock what lay behind. For now, her steps brought her to the scepter, cold and chilling, her body temperature wasn't much different. Invisible, she circled the scepter watching to see what happened. An eternal watcher... finally dropping her stealth and reaching into her own history. Ahead of her a doppleganger formed. An acolyte's imperfect creation of herself, it walked forward and put its hands upon the scepter.

With a last look, the brother and sister's paths would diverge them each to their own fate….

Coming across the room of bodies, and the gauntlet at the far wall. The first thing the male ritualist saw was the gauntlet, but he stopped. As a tomb keeper, he was unfazed by the dead. Scattering dust across the floor to see if there was a trap. Deliberate in his actions, he then moved his hand around the wall to see if there was a death awaiting a grave robber from a dart or lever. Much of his life around such things, the silent hunter was careful to not meet the same fate other tomb robbers had.

The female ritualist had acquired one, two, three crystals in her hand, deciding none gleaned enough for the Sith Lord she sought to dedicate herself to. Actually drawn to the stranger fork, feeling pulled toward the coffin. Fear welled up within her and she knew it demanded her dedication. The girl scampered forward and began a wildling ritual dance, so fluid in the movement like her mother once was. Chanting "Marauder Cheia" she would continue to revere the dead "Marauder Cheia" before doing anything else. Praising who had come before, her basic was poor, but the sith words she was learning were used alongside her chant, incorporated to make her worship more complete. Eventually dropping her kneeling body almost flat before the coffin.... "Chronicler. Creator. Tender of Life. Let this one carry burden. Grown tribute for tribute." A tribute she would return tenfold for every day she carried it. She sung those same ancient sith words she had been taught, as best as her broken vocabulary allowed.

Lord Reficite

 

[Lord Reficite]

Circling the Scepter, nothing seemed to happen. Though being cautious had its own set of rewards...the room seemed to shake for Judgement when the doppelganger placed its hands on the scepter. Something was not right about this room...the scepter wanted to move but seemed imbedded in the ground rather hard. When it was moved a little bit more, the cave tunnel would shake and parts of the wall would crack...this room seemed hollow. There was a distinct feeling...a feeling that if this was removed, a great challenge is going to be presented. Though the power seeping from the scepter...the closer she got, the more it felt like Darth Reficites own power flowing through it.

Though she can feel something else...something that seems to encompass the Dark Side of the Force, all around this very room. If she looked carefully enough, she would see an eye uncovered now on the ceiling...and it was huge, the size of her own head as it was watching her every movement. With a vicious yellow hue with a black dot in the middle, this must have been the watcher...but it seems embedded partly into the crystal work around it. Now comes the choice though...does she take her chance or does she leave it towards whatever is watching this?

--------------------------------------------------------

The brother would indeed feel drawn by the strange device. It was a training tool used by many apprentices and acolytes that learned through the Sith Empire so long ago. No Death seems to be drawn from this device, nor does it seem very well connected. On close inspection, it would be a launcher of some type...attached with a grappling like hook at the end with a disc launcher on top. A rancid smell came from it as well, one that came from the reservoir near it...a poison one that long since been depleted and uncleaned for over a millennia. If he placed it on, it would feel rather...comfortable and the side would actually light up to give a disc counter, three of them to be precise. If he even knew it, it be identified as a Lanvarok.

"Traitttoorrrrr."

A voice came through the pile, something started to move along it and moved bodies. The Dark Side was amplified by a massive magnitude, it felt even colder in the room. Out from the pile came an arm shooting out before slamming down, crushing one of the skulls nearby before coming out as a half-destroyed humanoid of rotting flesh. Its jaw barely hanged open, it screeched out as it echoed briefly along the halls and mostly in the room as two others start to emerge from the pile with ancient swords to fight the male though while somewhat skilled, they have lost so much speed from time...and skill.

"Foorrrrr Emperrrorrrr Necrriidddddd!"

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The sister would seem to have better luck at finding where she was supposed to go. The room did indeed allow her to harvest without issue, though what was strange was her ritualistic dance, her admiration and will to appease the one in the coffin, one whom had passed so long ago. One that not even reached the supposed rank of Lord. When her body went flat onto the coffin to worship it, the eyes snapped open and glowed a bright white light that blinded her.

----------------------------------------------------------

"Cheia! CHEIA!!!"

A voice yelled out as the white light would vanish, leaving the sister ritualist in the same crystalized room...but without the coffin in the middle. She was near the crystals, but they were nowhere near their perfection as they were now. They seemed like buddings, small shards in the wall that was being cultivated. In the center was the figure from before, a Rodian Male laying on the ground a disc embedded directly into the torso, raggedly breathing. Around the Marauder, four bodies laid around it and the lightsaber of Cheias was cut in half nearby, smoking.

Through the main entrance, a loud cry would erupt as Darth Reficite appeared with some dark acolyte, only recognized due to his mask, impaling the unfortunate Sith with his green lightsaber into the wall before slashing upwards. With the last one killed from this viewpoint, the Dark Lord of Rebirth deactivated his lightsaber and noticed Cheia, screaming his name again as he ran over and kneeled, checking the Rodian with his left hand trying to raise his head up. Only now did the distinct sounds of battle ring in, lightsabers clashing and sounds of turbolasers going off far away.

"Master...your...alive."
"As you shall keep living...I have to heal your body, lift yourself, let me lend my lifeforc-"
"No...I can feel your life. It is new...it is unfitting. It is to soon."
"I can take it, I can-"

The Marauders arm shot up and grabbed onto Darth Reficites robe, pulling him down as the cavern shook around them. The two seemed to share a deep long stare, as if there was something else going on. The Rodians mouth moved, hoarse but speaking out loud.

"This is where my cycle ends Darth Renatus...you must end this war."
"I cannot....I cannot lose you to."
"We will lose more...without you. I now know what Death feels like...I am unafraid."
"Let me tell you how to live...how to come back."
"No...there is no time. They are at the steps, the Emperor and the Fist will soon clash. You must end this...you must stop them."
"But my power...my strength in the Force."
"No buts...you have your strength again, you are no longer weak, I can feel it like a raging inferno inside you. You have been reborn once more my Dark Lord, no more showing weakness towards anyone...Justice, not-"

The room gone silent as Marauder Cheias blue eyes went darker before the room started to fade slowly in mid sentence. The crystalized cave illuminated gently before glowing as it sensed the life force leaving Cheias body. Carefully, the Dark Lord of Rebirth laid Cheias body onto the ground and stood up rather somberly. There seemed to be no words, only his eyes staring down upon the body but then turning towards another cavern like tunnel and walked towards it.

----------------------------------------------------------

The white light would vanish from her view fully as she was now reawakened back into the crystalline cavern she had entered. The coffin was still upright, the eyes now closed yet the crystal in her hands giving a somber like glow of white. Nearby towards the wall, it gave a similar glow as parts of the wall gently crumbled...as if to lead the way. If she chose to follow it, she would be given a much wider variety of bright crystals, bouncing off as this must been where it all started. The crystals here were large, so large that even taking one would not harm much in terms of having a crystal of her own. Nearby though...was a vein of white crystals.

At some point, someone tried to help guide them but it had ultimately failed. A plague was on the wall, in Basic but the crystals had grown around it, illuminating it in colors of Pink, White and strangely an illuminating crimson color that seemed unlike any other seen in the cave.

"Justice, Not Peace."
​

There was enough of it all around to take a few but not to many...though a different colored crystal from afar could also call her, if she is attuned enough with the Force. Whatever the quote means, it appears to not have an answer in this cavern.

Taresa Kae

 

[Taresa Kae]

For the Assassin

She watched her Watcher. She couldn't mask her force signature and maintain the entity at the same time. Focusing instead on her duplicate entirely. There were crystals here and her task had been to retrieve one. Unlike the others she had so many prejudged goals and opinions. The first among them was preserving an enduring Sith Legacy. With no one tending this unknown tomb that scepter was vulnerable. Her question was, to either send ritualists to tend this tomb or retrieve the artifact for safe storage elsewhere.

The Kae Killer was ancient by most standards and had all the time in the galaxy to decide. Looking toward the eye again and perhaps sensing who likely watched her. She didn't know for sure, only that possibility stopped her from impaling it with one of her many knives.

A good few minutes before she acted might pass. Turning and unclipping her helmet so her face could be seen, for the first time in many years another could see her own eyes. Never the same face month to month, what would it matter? It mattered right now and that was enough. Daggers for eyes in her stare, judging her course.

"I will send those to tend, protect and preserve your history. To live to do so, I need a crystal of history, legacy, and structure." Drawn to the coldest crystals in the room, she watched the eye. Seeing if any tremors happened. Her own hand felt compelled toward the room's crystal work, closer toward the watching eye. History in this very structure was far too compelling over any natural growth, and there was no fear as she watched the watcher.

Bargaining with the beast.

….…

For the Brother.

Chill in the air, his body shivered, muscles clenching tight. The comfortable fit of the gauntlet was taken with pride. Giving chanted thanks once more for the great gift he had received. Not pulled down but taken from the crystal that had held it. Placing that cut crystal around a chain along his waist. As with most things, the ritualist took great care when carving the crystal-free, as if shaping crystals could be in his future. Still, it was not the most impressive of the crystals, and the Hunter would continue to seek better.

Right now a wildling roar met the called challenge. The axe pressed to his chest once to sear a reminder of the fight to come. Raising the glove up in challenge and clanging axe to gauntlet one two three times.

They would begin.

Pointing the gauntlet outward, the ritualist took aim like a hunter might with a bow, almost using his full body to turn. Feeling a tugging sensation, as if this device had a specific method of use. The first disc fired but it was inaccurate and so went wider than expected, snatched with some force control mid-air. It might have grazed his target but went wide.

Unused to controlling the force in this way. There would be a loading delay before he could try again. Pointing his axe out toward his foe he began a battle chant, unaware his chanting was subtly influencing the outcome. A very small indication of a greater ability that might or might not live through this encounter.

Jumping forward, his overhand Axe soon swung to meet Sword in bloody fury!

…..

For the Sister.

She remained in completely silent reverence. Feeling and seeing all.

Blinding light gave way to an emotional vision, racked with radiating feelings that she couldn't help but experience with them. Seeing the despair, the ending of cycles, the pain of the loss. It clutched at her. The teenage girl gripped her hands on the ground, grinding her nails across the floor.

Her Eidetic memory could do nothing less than remember every emotion exactly as she'd experienced with them, each word retained, and every act in a pristine preserved detail. Staying low to the ground and not moving until her own emotional state had ended.

When free of any hinderance, toward the opening she moved with energy and purpose in her step. Selecting not the largest or brightest but the most somber-looking white crystal. The one that best represented and contained what she'd just experienced. She closed her eyes, held it to her chest, and thanked the dead for their sacrifice. Remembering exactly as the Rodian had held his crystal, she did the same, with the closet representation in shape and size she could find.

"Justice, No Peace," her memory committed exactly as written, even if her voice could not, potentially for cycles of eternity. Taking a small tool from her belt to clean and preserve the etching. One day of many she would try to spend here.

No matter if the assassin did send someone here or not, she would come herself to attend this tomb most of all.

Lord Reficite

 

[Lord Reficite]

For the Assassin

The beast above her pondered...or more or less, was all around her. The creature itself was massive, if she even knew the full scale, she would have known how well of a choice she honestly made. The creature seemed to been thinking, its eyes squinting slowly before opening a bit more with the antechamber shaking for a brief moment before it slowly stopped. Nearby, part of the wall near the exit fell apart to reveal a brilliant blue shine to it. The formation before her, seemed...unnatural to say the least. As if it had grown from a source further into the wall, as if the crystals inside did not pertain to be held here.

Upon closer examination, would been crystals that were only generally found on Kashyyyk, the Nak'tra Crystal. It felt already somehow slightly twisted in the Force...but the feeling of redemption seems to be drawn towards it as well. However this crystal got here, it has been here for a very long time...and its old crystal placed somewhere deeper into the room. The creature would allow you to take it as it kept watching her, as if understanding and believing the end of the bargin was held up.

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For the Brother

The one grazed screeched out before tripping, landing straight into the next strike down by the Brothers axe. As the chanting continued, more and more bodies seemed to be resurrected...more and more seemed to charge after the brother itself. But the battle seemed lost from the start for them, their minds already addled, fear filling them as they were reserved in the moment of striking, only to see themselves slain towards the axe!

So many bodies started to pile up, the battle seemingly tipped forever in the Brothers favor! When a tall one appeared, he tried to swing but lost his hands! Before it could react, its own head was then lopped off! So many casualties from already the undead, so many! As each strike kept going, the Dark Side could be felt ever so increasing until finally when another was killed, the entire pile of corpses still trying to raise up, screeched as loudly as possible! This kept going till they stopped, their bodies starting harden as if stone as they shook, trying to stop it...all before it finally ended.

Their arms had tried to raise up, as if trying to claw away at them. From their own hands...grew a strange red crystal, barely big enough for a lightsaber to use. It gave a crimson shine to it, it felt empowered...it felt unlike any other crystal encountered before. It was fueled by the battle, by the strangeness of the chants. It was unique to the brother, and to him alone. What he does to it now...is up to him.

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For the Sister

There was no reaction to the words, though it seemed to be rather important. The crystal itself was now hers, it felt...right in her hands. Whether or not it would lead to their future together, was beyond even the Forces means of knowing. With the etchings cleaned up and free of debris, it shined slightly more bright in the room and gave a distinct glow now in it.

There was nothing much else to do in this room. The spirits felt calmed in here, the right choices were made without hinderance. The work had been completed...though strangely, there was a feeling this cave may have been much larger.

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For Darth Reficite

Patiently waiting for people to return from their trials, it was no surprise on where he had sat that it was taking a while. Who knows, most could possibly been killed by now. If not for the reanimated undead, the protector of the caves, the Sith Wyrm or if the spirits of the cave itself lashed out among its enemies. There was little...to no chance most should have made it back or returned. With his eyes closed, he meditated near the tomb of his former apprentice, Darth Necrid.

All the while, he kept his force signature alive and all the time feeling around him. He rather not get snuck up towards so easily again...though people seem to have a way of finding him in the most unusual timings. All around him, small swirls of white lines as the souls in his mask tried to escape with Darth Reficite refusing to let them go. It was time to subdue them, to keep them right where they belonged...till their use was needed.

Taresa Kae Darth Osiris

 

[Darth Osiris]

Ziost.

In ancient times, it had been a sacred world of the Sith, a bastion of Dark Side power and knowledge rarely rivaled since across the galaxy. Its prominence had waxed and waned through the centuries, and recent times has seen the world thrown once more into obscurity. The actions of the Ashlan Crusade, the Sith Civil War, and countless other conflicts, Ziost had become a lost beacon of the Sith. For Darth Osiris, Ziost was a world that heralded a time lost to his kind.

His journey to the world was driven as much by nostalgia as it was necessity. The 'purification' campaigns of the Ashlan Crusade had likely destroyed many things on the world, but in that destruction, discovery could be made. Perhaps new tombs had been unearthed, ancient libraries uncovered, or relics long since forgotten had been given a new chance at discovery. That was the reason he told himself he was going to the world, but in the back of his mind, he knew it was for the simple fact to see the world once more with his own eyes.

He traveled near the location of the old Sith Citadel, setting down his transport beyond the outskirts and departing the craft. He was barely a few steps down the ramp when he sensed the presence of another on the world, then a second, both steeped in the power of the Dark Side. Curious, he thought, he thought he would have been alone on this world. Deciding in that moment this discovery far outweighed any other potential ones, Darth Osiris set out towards the other two individuals he sensed, crossing the barren and broken landscape in quick, Force-imbued steps, until he eventually came in sight of one of those he sensed.

Osiris could tell the man, a Sith he was certain, was doing something with the Force. At first, Osiris thought he was simply meditating, something he himself was an ardent practitioner of, but the feeling in the Force was wrong. There was another layer to what he was doing, and though Osiris had a few ideas, he did not allow himself to lock in on any potential. To do so would hinder the freedom of thought, and block out all potentials if he was focusing on a select few options.

It was with an open mind then and filled with a detached curiosity that Darth Osiris approached, his steps slowed, made loud on purpose so as to ensure the other Sith he had no intention of sneaking up on him. The Force had alerted them of the others presence long before, but the simple physical action was meant to dispel any lingering thoughts of hostility. Osiris came to a halt several meters away, his arms folded across his chest in a relaxed pose. He spoke clearly, projecting his voice towards the other Sith, and began their conversation.

"Greetings, stranger. I had not expected to see others of our kind here."

Lord Reficite Taresa Kae