It was ever a source of amusement for the Iridonian Sith whenever he was blessed with the chance to witness how feeble minded the majority of the populous that crowded the universe could be, how easily their belief as to what is tangible and true, their misplaced trust in the fact that whatever they were perceiving and experiencing was the be-all and end-all of reality. They never understood that so long as someone stood above them in terms of power, they were sheep, blindly lead and pushed onto a path of Lies and False-Realities crafted by those above them, never seeing Truth. Of course, more often than not, the path they walked was one born from politics, formed by honeyed words of those of authority, and not so much one crafted through the manipulation and weaving of the Force and, as such, the falseness of the Lies could, at times, be spotted and escaped. It was unfortunate, then, that the power that the guards encountered as they strolled through the fields of Commenor was that of the Force and one that was not so easily broken.
Smirking slightly, Lykos ran the pad of a finger along the exposed neck of the final, uncorrupted guard, the physical contact serving as the pathway that allowed for the imposing might of the Assassin's mind to enforce its will upon the guard's own mind. Tendrils of Dark would wrap around the exposed mind, tethering itself in place and forging a false reality that would become the guard's Truth, a reality of normality set under the control of the Sith. And as Lykos would pull away from the guard, those tendrils lengthened and followed after him, anchored as they were to his will, set alongside their fellows that served to corrupt the guard's own fellows.
Turning away from his now subdued targets, the annoyance they would have been should he have revealed himself whilst they were not under his sway fully neutralised, the one-eyed man focused his attention upon the tense form of Kay. Yes, she disguised her readiness and alarm well, almost perfectly, but for a Zabrak born and raised alongside hunters, trained to perceive even the smallest twitches of muscles so as to avoid becoming the prey of whatever dangerous Iridonian animal that he would have been pursuing, the involuntary coiled muscles were clear to see.
One stride. Ten meters behind Kay.
The manipulations of the Force that rendered Lykos invisible fell away as if chains had suddenly been loosed from tethers, photons no longer being bent and twisted around his form. However, even as the Assassin was no longer occluded physical, his Presence within the Force remained near undetectable apart from the faintest wisps of Dark that had served to alert Kay to his presence within the area. Also, despite the suddenness of his appearance, the guards that accompanied Kay mad no reaction, their perception of normality so under the sway of Lykos' will that they saw nothing wrong with the Sith approaching their monarch.
A second stride. None meters behind Kay.
No longer gliding on silent footsteps, the sound of grass parting beneath his feet would join the sounds of movement made by his fellow beings.
A third stride. Eight meters behind Kay.
A small cough, purposely made to alter to his location would sound out as hands would emerge from his cloak to pull back the hood Lykos wore. Ashen grey hair, jagged horns, sand weathered skin and a single amber eye would be cast into sharp relief under the bright sunlight - so opposite to the shadows and darkness that the Zabrak oft preferred to surround himself with.
A forth stride. Seven meters behind Kay.
Setting himself in place, feet planted a shoulder's width apart and hands clasped behind his back, Lykos allowed a small smirk to pull at his lips, twisting the scars that would their way across his once handsome and now disfigured features. With a near emotionless to, his gruff voice would rumble out, chasing after the sound of the cough as it dispersed into nothingness.
"It had been some time, has it not, Kay. Greetings."
[member="Lady Kay"]