When the Shadows collide

[Darth Abyss]

Malachor V, Abyss Academy

Many of the younger acolytes had flocked to the wide entrance hall of the academy, gathered in small groups in respectful distance of the rooms middle. They rumors that the headmaster had planned a duel against another Lord of the sith had spread in mere hours, and non of them was ready to pass up on the chance to see two true sith clash in a fight of strength, intelligence and wisdom. It wasn't like the normal confrontations Abyss had, it was a duel, or rather a sparring between two lords that shared a relationship that was as close to friendship as it was possible for them. Lykos had asked for this opportunity to train and experiment with some more strange and exotic abilities, like the use of ancient sith runes, and Abyss was quite intrigued by the chance to fight a worthy opponent and see the alchemical projects of his acolyte brother in action.

As the hooded figure of the headmaster entered the hall, his robe slightly drifting as he walked and his face obscured by his wooden mask as always, some of the acolytes began to cheer for their teacher. He had done his best to be a guardian and guide to those that came to his academy, a strict mentor that did all, including the elimination of weakness in their ranks, to ensure that those trained here would one day rise to strength.

To him their behaviour was amusing, it told him how laughably less they all knew about him and his opponent. They awaited a duel filled with flashy powers, lightning storms and saber furies, but both opponents were shadows not warriors. Sure there would be lightsabers crossing each other, but in its core it would be a fight of deception and trickery, fought with powers that ranged from the unorthodox, over the subtle to the abstract and estoric. They would learn a lot from it, just not in the way they had imagined.

His legs crossed, Abyss rested in the middle of the hall, waiting for his opponent to arrive. The crowd around him had cooled down a bit, holding their breath in anticipation of the man who would fight the headmaster today.

[member="Darth Lykos"]

 

[Xevek Nekonis]

For the students, and even Darth Abyss should he not pick up the feint disturbances left behind by unseen foot falls, the heavily cloaked form of Darth Lykos would seemingly fade out of the ether itself, appearing with no fanfare and no grand display of power. Simply, in between one moment and the next, he would appear, mid stride, a short distance from the seated form of Abyss. A low, dry chuckle would echo out from the shadows of the drawn hood, shadows that obscured Lykos' face. "My friend." The word friend carried with it a slight tensing of voice, an unspoken declaration that such a title was not as it seemed, for while a fraction of trust had been extended, it was by no means stable, instead, it was ready to crumble at the first signs of action being taken against Lykos. "Can you not control your pets better? With more decorum?" The sardonic humour that Lykos held was easily audible within his words, even as his tone was flat and stoic, unfeeling and unemotional.

Stopping a short distance in front of Darth Abyss, Lykos would bow slightly at the shoulders, nothing more than a minute movement but enough of one to convey a sense of greetings and respect. "Abyss. I see that you are well." Straightening, Lykos would instinctively fall into the stance that Darth Ophidia had often used and one that the pair of them had picked up from their Master, his back becoming straight, shoulders rolled back and hands clasped just above the small of his back. Looking around the Hall that they stood in, burnt orange eye taking in the throngs of now silent students, his gruff, growling voice would call out into the silence once more. "Should I presume that we will be preforming to an audience today? What lesson do you seek to teach with this display?"

As he had spoken, Lykos had reached up and began to slowly removed the robes that hung around his form, obscuring even the outline of his body and whatever armour and weapons he may have hidden beneath. Letting the heavy cloth drop to the ground with the whisper of fabric running over fabric, the simplistic leather armour was revealed to the crowd, along with the sheathed durasteel sword and pouches that hung from the belt on his waist. Also revealed was the dull black cybernetic arm that served as a prosthetic for his left arm, slightly glowing scratches shining from the palm. However, it was the sight of the Zabrak's missing eye and the deformed right side of his skull near the empty ocular socket that lead to waves of whispers rolling through the gather Apprentices.

Cracking his neck, feeling the ends of the ashen grey dreadlocks that were woven into his hair brush against the tops of his arms as he settle back into the pose of his Master, Lykos would await for Abyss' response while running through what he had planned for this spar. With his recent exploits into the field of Runic Sith Sorcery, the written language of the Force, they had become a source of invention and inspiration for the Iridonian, to the point that he had begun to formulate a manner in which one could fight using those versatile symbols. The glowing scratches on the palm of his cybernetic arm were Runes themselves, the four of them allowing him to shape and manipulate the form of whatever material he set his hand onto, meaning that he could form small Rune Clusters in an instant as one of the Runes would interpret and translate his will while another would power them for a short while. To that end, this was a live test so as to see how well the theory could be put into practice.


[member="Darth Abyss"]

 

[Darth Abyss]

As the assassins spoke about the crowd most remained silent, but a few upset gasp could be heard. A few gasps, and a muttered "shutta", spoken softly but yet audible, coming from one of the youngest apprentices sitting in the right corner of the room. It was hard to predict the leader of the assassins, but one thing that you could almost always count on was his tendency to insult those below him, in some way at least. A small cruel grin danced over his face, as everything fell in place the way he hoped for, exactly like he had wished. The rebellious, easily insulted nature of a young darksider was a key part of the lesson he meant to teach those gathered today, not the duel itself. It would only be a addition, to keep their ambition focused, but the truth they would learn today was another, a far more important one.

"One in humility. One about what grave of a weakness arrogance is."

Without opening his eyes, or moving his hand, the thoughts of the mindeater searched for the one acolyte who had failed to behave like he should, finding the mix of anger and excitement in the blink of an eye between the others gathered there, which all felt more of a natural, healthy fear for his opponent.

"One of you made a mistake, one of you saw himself in a position to insult a being that could easily crush him with nothing but his hands. Out in the galaxy, such behavior often means death ... And the Abyss academy is no exception. Come here, lesser one."

It wasn't a request, it was a command. After spending so much time around the young acolytes it had become easy for him to look in their heads, nothing, not even their through were save from the strict hand of the headmaster. Like remote controlled the young acolyte, a black haired human of average size stepped in the middle of the room, kneeing in front of [member="Darth Lykos"], his head hanging low, eyes to the ground.

"Lord Lykos, would you do me the honor to show those gathered here what happens to those unable to control themselves? Then we can finally begin."

The control over the mind of the man faded away, as Abyss wanted him to be in full control when death would take him. Slowly he rose from his feet, looking down on the acolyte in his last seconds. Standing straight he relaxed his arms and legs, getting ready for the fight that would follow. His hand danced over the amulet on his neck for a second, feeling the cold stone of his first real artifact for a moment.

 

[Xevek Nekonis]

Feeling the hold that his Acolyte Brother held upon the student's mind fade into the ether, for one did not train under Darth Ophidia herself and not come to understand the manipulations of the mind, Lykos simply stared down at the human, his burnt orange gaze piercing into him. Lykos was by no means an empath, for, indeed, he held absolutely no talent in the art after he had sealed his mind behind his mental shields. However, that was a side effect he cared not for as he held no need to rely upon the Force when it came to knowing the emotions of others. With his sensitive sense of smell, honed through generations of hunters within the sandstorm covered plains of Iridonia, Lykos was capable of scenting many an emotion from the alteration in pheromones should he be close enough or down wind of the target. And, in that moment, the young Apprentice seemed to reek with fear.

Slowly, the Assassin's biological right arm would settle upon the handle of his blade, his claw tipped fingers slowly biting into the leather wrappings as he tightened his grasp, eye sharpening with focus as he calculated where he would have to swing to strike exactly where he wished to do so. Slightly, the blade would be pulled free of the leather sheath, dull blade catching the low lighting of the hall. A low growl would begin to rumble out from the depths of his throat before, with a suddenness and smoothness that came from years of practice, the blade would be pulled free and slash through the air, sending a spray of crimson blood flying through the air before it would splatter against the ground; while also dripping from the edge of the sword, the sound of the drops hitting the stone flooring loud in the silence.

The human remained in his kneeling position for a few seconds longer as Lykos cleaned and re-sheathed his sword before collapsing forwards onto all fours, loud sobs of relief ringing out into the silence as blood continued to slowly drip from the non-lethal cut that reached across his throat. Standing tall, Lykos would slowly look around the gathered students before speaking, his gravelly voice silencing even the sobbing human at his feet.

"Survival. It is not just solely decided through whether you live or whether you die. Survival is instead a state of life, it is a state in which you pierce through the veils of illusions that obscure the true reality. It is found within power and strength, where victory is yours and chains that bind you to the false broken. Does this sound familiar? Do not fear death, fear, instead, what may become of your should you fail to achieve the state known as survival. For, after all, death is by no means the worse fate that can befall you."

Bending down, Lykos would crouch before the black haired human, his biological hand coming to rest under his chin, tipping his head up to stare at the Zabrak as a smile would cross scarred lips, however, it was by no means a warm smile. His cybernetic hand would lash forwards, wrapping the hand around the face of the student, holding him in place as a glow would form beneath the pitch black metal hand as a cracking scream would be pulled from the student's throat. Pulling back after a few seconds, straightening as he did so. Still looking down at the human, a smirk of satisfaction would pull at his mouth as he saw the clearly visible stone runes that had been transmuted from the human's own forehead. Gaarn'vel, Juul'darand Kilthor, memories, extraction and direction respectively.

"Let us see, Mali'kep, if you will learn the tenants of survival when your own memories are no longer there. When you know not you name nor your history. When you remember no embrace or kind word. Only pain and torture. When you know not how to speak or write, yet do know how to hear and read. Survival, Mali'kep, prove your worth and the Runes will fade. Fall, stumble for but an instant, and be relegated to the dregs of history."

With a dismissal wave of Lykos' hand, the student would be carried by the Force off to the side, his voice silently working to speak as the words would not come and hot, silent tears would run down his face. Turning back to face Abyss, Lykos would speak to Abyss, first with his voice then with his mind.

"Shall we begin, then?"

'Follow his progress, see if those Runes dispel. If they do, then he will have proven worthy of surviving, of beginning to understanding the True Dark. Should he fail, he will pass from the mortal coil in due time; most likely by his own hand or a situation of his own creation..'


[member="Darth Abyss"]

 

[Darth Abyss]

A small grin formed on Abyss face as [member="Darth Lykos"] set his punishment upon the acolyte. The sith never failed to amaze him with strange and creative ways to use his skills and this was no different. Abyss simply would've taken the mans live, but what Lykos had done was even more cruel and twisted, setting a good example for the others that watched his act. The young audience was so silent that it seemed like they stopped breathing, but in their minds, at least in that of the most talented ones, he could feel something more than fear. They had learned from this, they made a mental mark in their head why arrogance could mean death or worse, a lesson that they all had to learn if they meant to survive their training.

"Thank you, Lord Lykos. I am sure that the lesser ones have understood the dangers of arrogance now."

Abyss right hand wandered down to his belt, tightly gripping the hilt of his saber, his stance loosing a bit of its tension as he lowered his body, ready for a fight. It was untypical for a practitioner of from two, but over time the sith lord had modified the form to a large degree, to the point were it almost seemed like something else entirely.

"Now, we shall begin."

The crimson red blade came to live in his right, while his left was loosely hanging on his side, free to be used for the many tricks and ruses he had in his arsenal. Under other circumstances he would've made the first move, using a surprise to open up the fight, but Lykos was an shadow in his own right, so he deemed it the better option to wait and react, using the years he had spend with training his patience to keep the fire of passion inside him, which hungered for violence, contained and controlled.

 

[Xevek Nekonis]

As the snap-hiss of the red bladed lightsaber that Darth Abyss wielded rang out into the now once more silent hall, Lykos' face would seem to fall, shifting from what was a relaxed, if stoic and emotionless, expression to a mask of fierce determination, eye sharpening even as he remained as emotionless as ever. With a seamless movement not visible to anyone apart from maybe Abyss, Lykos' Presence shifted. Not within the Force, for he was already hidden in the Force through both Force Stealth and Art of the Small, but within the senses of Precognition. Whereas, if Abyss was to focus on him, the faintest hints of the Zabrak'ss next actions could have been discerned, now, he was nothing but a blank mask reflecting no intent, as if he had no future actions planned, as if he was content to simply remain standing where he was for the rest of his days.

With a, once more, graceful move, the sabre at the Iridonian's hip would be pulled for once more to settle with the tip pointed directly to the ground. Slowly, his bared feet would drag against the ground, his right falling back and to the side slightly while his left foot also drifted forwards slightly. Bowing his head slightly to Abyss, Lykos' mind began to spin once he realised that the first move was going to be left to him. Normally, he would pull the Force around him into a Cloak, falling invisible and striking as nothing more than a ghost or shadow. However, the purpose behind this spar was not to test themselves against one another at full strength, but to determine the viability of fighting with Runes.

Bowing his head one last time, Lykos pushed forwards, closing the gap between them with ease. Bringing the sabre up from where it hung from his fingers, the sword would travel from his lower left to his upper right in a feint before, with a flick of his wrist, the angle would be altered and he would lunge forwards, the curve of the sword meaning that the lunge would drive the tip of the blade directly to Abyss' masked face. At the same time as his right arm was moving in an attack, his cybernetic arm would come up and point the flat of the palm directly towards Abyss. There, Runes would begin to glow in the middle of the air, the very atmosphere being altered so as to hold temporary Runes. Telemath, Velinar, Vala'noria. Create, Fire and Direct.

Little sparks would dance from those Rune before, with an audible sound of ignition, a short but powerful burst of fire would fly directly at Abyss' chest at the same time that Lykos would lunge forwards. Two attacks striking at once, one physical through weapons, one physical but through the Force instead. Both dangerous.


[member="Darth Abyss"]

 

[Darth Abyss]

While it would been impossible to pinpoint the first attack of the zabrak beforehand, both due to his rather "eccentric" persona and due to his concealment of his mind, Abyss knew the concept behind it from the start. Most which would be considered a shadow or assassin by their enemies had a tendency to use attacks that included multiple layers, and multiple contact points to divide the focus of their opponents. It was something Abyss himself did most of the time, as it allowed him to even out his lack of finesse with the lightsaber.

His saber danced to block the incoming strike, but was overwhelmed by the feint, only barley managing to deflect the lunge so it only slightly burned the flesh on top of his shoulder. The fire was even more surprising. He was aware of the art of pyrokinese, but when he noticed the runes on [member="Darth Lykos"] arm he suspected something more perfide and strange then just fire. He had basically tricked himself with this, over predicting the sith lord and falling for a much simpler attack. His left was pulled to his chest, Abyss desperately trying to summon enough dark side energy to block the fire. A jedi or even some sith knew how to create protective fields with the force, but all Abyss could do was to use the art of telekinesis to pull the air to the right, where a part of the fire still managed to burn holes in the sleeve of his robe.

He was eager to use his own little runes magic, but other than that of Lykos he needed some time to perform it successfully. A evasion strategy was his best bet for now, even if it wasn't as useful against another assassin that against a most others. His right pushed two buttons on his saber at once, one turned of the blade, to other activated the light absorbing cells webbed into the hilt. These strange little devices could bend the light, and create a field of almost total darkness in an area of 3 meters, and only strong lightsources would break through it.

He had absolutely no doubt that the zabrak could see in the darkness as well as he could, but he hoped that the sudden change would still catch his opponent of guard, to give him enough time to bring a bit of distance between the two. As the darkness began, he pushed his body to the left, falling in a quick sprint until the zabrak was only left in tbe fringes of the darkness field.

 

[Xevek Nekonis]

A smirk of satisfaction would briefly cross Lykos' lips as he saw that the Runes he had crafted within the air itself work as he had hoped, the spout of flame being redirected away from Abyss but the surprise of their appearance meaning that their effectiveness had not been fully negated, even as the tip of his saber would cut through cloth to reach flesh beneath, the metal of the blade being coated with crimson. With an ease that came with practice, Lykos would reset his stance as soon as the strike had been made, saber withdrawing to stand ready across his chest and he pulled his cybernetic hand back, ready to act in defense before riposting.

However, instead of a retaliatory strike, Abyss preformed an action that he had not predicted. With a hiss, the red blade of plasma retreated into the hilt of Abyss' lightsaber before a wave of darkness would consume Lykos' sight. It was something that Abyss probably expected, but, apart from a sudden pain within his gaze from the sudden expansion of his pupils, Lykos' senses were not hampered in the slightest. His senses of hearing and smell working just as they should, doubly so now that Lykos was focusing on them and enhancing them through the Force, meant that the Zabrak's fellow Assassin's footsteps rang loud within his ears and that Abyss' scent remained strong and detectable, the Human's location easily discernible.

'He is retreating. Logically, this field of darkness cannot extend outside of a finite distance. Assuming that Abyss chose to retreat the maximum distance to gain the maximum time, then I am at the edge. So, a three meter radius. Two options, strike within the dark, or retreat and strike from a distance. Within the dark would be my preferred option, but this is a test, so, the option that would benefit the most. Retreat.'

With a bust of speed enhanced through the Force, Lykos backed away from Abyss, lengthening the distance from three meters to ten in under a second. Just before he left the field of darkness, the Zabrak clenched his eye closed, preventing the sudden influx of light from blinding his sensitive eye and, as such, slowly began to process of sliding his eyelids apart, gently reintroducing his pupil to photons.

Upon landing at the ten meter distance, Lykos dropped to the ground and sweapt his cybernetic hand across the ground. In its path, Runic Arrays of Ziggra'nar, Ur and Kilthor were left burning across the stone. With a lurch, the stone and ground beneath rose up to for a wall between Abyss and Lykos. However, before could do so, Lykos' palm had slammed down outside of the Arrays, leaving behind a single Rune, a Rune that now blazed upon the side of the wall facing Abyss. That Rune was Omifar, the Rune of seeing, of observing, that which could not be seen by the user.


[member="Darth Abyss"]