The Pale Death
He knew the moment he and Eurydice set foot within Nefaron’s throneroom, that there was hell to pay. The silence lingered, even when Veradun and his co-apprentice bent the knee to their Master. The once Nagai remained in his position, even as Nefaron finally spoke, and uttered the word Apprentice with a hint of malice that told the pale young man that his Master’s fury was soon to follow. He didn’t dare look towards Eurydice, didn’t dare indicate anything that might cause Nefaron to punish her too.
He was still wrestling with the why, about that. Why did he care for her? Why did he want to protect her? Why didn’t he kill her himself, drain her, feast upon her, and prove to his Master that he was the better of the two?
Why shouldn’t he let her suffer like he was going to suffer?
The Corpse Lord rose to his feet and hovered over his two students, the very air electric with power. Veradun braced himself, and a heartbeat later his body was wrapped up in the power of his Sith Master, and flung violently into the ceiling above their heads.
Veradun could have resisted, could have flexed his own growing power - but he didn’t fight back. He had learned long ago not to fight back against his Master’s ire. Best to let it run its course, let the scarred horrid man get his taste and fill of his cruel amusement, then move on. The young pale forever-youth kept his mind shut, however, an impenetrable fortress that he had worked hard to strengthen over the years. His Master could access almost anything that belonged to Veradun…but his mind?
That was a place not even the Sith Lord was allowed to breach. Not anymore.
His body crashed back to the floor, bones snapping loudly to ring in the silence. Agony flooded through his body - and yet he could feel himself already knitting those injuries, his Sangnir healing ability already at work, though far more slowly than it otherwise might have due to the fact that he had not yet fed that day.
Nefaron’s hold on him ceased, and he turned his back on his Apprentice - no doubt begging Veradun to take the chance and try and stab the Sith Lord in the back.
"You have been ignoring my summons, Veradun. Every holo is an excuse, every progress report filled with meaningless discoveries. Even the bounty of slaves you had returned to Anoat is not enough to deceive me, boy."
Everything within Veradun went still, even as his body pulsed with pain. What all did Nefaron know? Was he aware that he was trying to plot with Eurydice, that he had made a pact with his Sire to destroy him? No, there was not a way that he could know about that…not yet. His discussions with Eurydice however? Perhaps…in fact, more than likely.
Next, the Corpse Lord turned his attention to Eurydice, beckoning her to his side. Instead of physically tormenting her, however, he addressed her to look upon his most loyal, his first Apprentice. The one who would lead his Legions one day, and asked her if Veradun should be worthy of such a thing.
Veradun rolled from his back to his front, pulling his knees underneath him, though he remained on the ground - forehead pressed to the cold floor. It hid his twisted expression, the way his jaw was set. He wanted to speak - but he knew to do so would be folly. He also knew that he was foolish to believe that his Master was finished punishing him.
"I will praise, however, your desire for increased power. Though you attempt to cloak it from me, you have changed. The force, as strong as ever in you, reacts to a body that is forever altered. You knew of an advantage, and you took it, greedy and eager for the power to challenge me. A commendable step that every Sith Apprentice must take, but you have deluded yourself if you think yourself truly powerful."
So Darth Nefaron knew that Veradun had changed. He was aware that he was no longer the same boy he had been before, no longer the Nagai with a past, with ties and loyalties. These thoughts were momentarily interrupted as the last flood of Nefaron’s fury was unleashed in the form of torrents of Sith lightning, coursing through Veradun’s body and setting every nerve on fire. His body stiffened under the assault, jumping and jolting against his will as his anima boiled and his skin cooked.
Then…it was over.
Veradun lay upon the cold floor, resting for a moment, feeling his body work to repair the damage done. Had he still been in his mortal form…this would have rendered him unconscious, perhaps. Maybe even sent him into what Nefaron called a ‘med bay’.
But now, his Sangnir biology allowed him to heal quickly - though in the process it used more Anima, and left him even more starved than he was before. The heady scent of blood pulsing underneath skin called to him, tinged the edges of his vision red.
Now he was an even greater threat to those with a pulse than he had been.
He wondered, momentarily, if Eurydice would allow him to take blood from her - like she had almost seemingly allowed before that blasted droid had interrupted them…
He suddenly found himself incredibly grateful that his Sire and Blood Brother had forced him to starve, to teach him how to endure moments like this.
When Nefaron returned to his throne, Veradun slowly rose back to his feet - what remained of his broken bones snapping back into place, as what was once electrified skin became smooth and pale once more. It was as if the hell the Sith Lord had unleashed upon him had never happened, and he was back to his hauntingly beautiful self. He could feel Eurydice’s eyes settle upon him, but he ignored it. Best that he didn’t react to her at all, not while they both were in front of their Master.
Slaves were summoned, and Veradun’s icy blue eyes darkened as his pupils flared with the scent of fresh blood entering the area. He clenched his jaw tighter, fangs grinding against one another as he forced himself through the bloodlust that pulsed through his veins. The slaves delivered shards of some object or item, and Darth Nefaron took the moment to explain what it was. He showed both Eurydice and Veradun the shard, and asked them if they had ever heard of a device called the ‘Ravager’.
Eurydice was the first to respond, slowly and with a muttered voice.
“I know about the same as Eurydice does, my Lord.” Veradun responded, his voice devoid of any emotion - nothing to indicate how he felt in the moment.
The younger woman echoed the silent thought in his mind: how had Nefaron come about acquiring this object?
…and what did it have to do with them?
He waited to hear their Master’s response, for surely it would clue him into whatever scheme Nefaron had going on in his mind.