The Blood Hound
~ Pre Gulag
Nessarose lay on the cold ground of the tunnels beneath the Forbidden Temple on Endelaan. Arms spread to her sides, her eyes glowed in the dim light, staring at the ceiling. She had tried to move earlier, but the poison coursing through her veins kept her from it. She had attempted to call on the Force, to rid herself of it, thoughts of her other half and their children sharpening her minds helping her remain conscious and alert even when all else failed.
Footsteps came from her left. All she could do was try to look in the general direction, but there was nothing to greet her other than another pair of eyes that glowed stronger than hers, making the facial features of the person completely blurred.
"You show more strength than the few I have visited prior to you. By all I know, you ought to be dreaming right now," the person said. Nessaose could make out it was a female voice, timeless. Her heart skipped a beat as thoughts turned to her ancestors, Ashmedai and Bodicea. "I am not them," the voice said, and Nessarose wished she had enough muscle control to groan. It was very rude to enter people's minds and read their thoughts, and much of her early years in existence had been spent on keeping people out of hers.
So it wasn't even going to be telepathy, she sighed internally. Just think. And the person would maybe, hopefully, answer. Who else had the power to perform such a deed if not for them? Even death was not a permanent thing with those two. "You have neglected the other side of your family," the voice answered her thoughts, "but I am benevolent, and it shall be forgiven. For now."
Nessarose managed a blink.
"Dark times are coming, child of my blood. And neither you nor those I find of interest have the power to properly see them through." Nessa scoffed on the inside. The whole dark times crap was getting so bloody old. She was sure she'd heard it at least two dozen times in the last year alone. "Your mother heeded my words with more care than this." But Nessarose was not Shery. She'd never been. And right now, she had half a mind to kill whoever had done this to her and go check on some other family members. Maybe kill them too in the process.
So anyway, what now? Was she going to hear more of this verbal diarrhea before she was either killed or let go? The woman chuckled. "You take too much after your god father. If I hadn't known better I might have mistaken you for a child of his, regardless of your paramour." Nessa imagined herself puking in her mouth. A little.
"You shall be preserved, Nessarose deWinter. The next few centuries will pass with the beat of a heart, and you will return to this existence once it is safe to do so." Wait, WHAT?! No. No no no no. Nessa wanted so badly to shake her head. She didn't wanna wake up in some random future. What about Dio? And her parents? Her siblings? Her children! "Sacrifices must be made, child of my blood. I sacrified many of mine so that I could be here." There was no more groaning. No more sighing. No more puke in her mouth. Inside of her head, Nessarose was screaming.
"Planets will drop and planets will rise, planets will move across the galactic map. But my blood shall never die. Those I have chosen will make sure of that. And perhaps, child of my blood, we shall meet again in the future."
Nessarose's scream ripped through the very air of the cavern.
~ Post-Gulag: some planet somewhere, that is not Endelaan
It was the first thing she heard - herself screaming. Her eyes snapped open and she sat up, her skin expecting the soft touch of her bed sheets. Instead there was sand. Cold, sharp. She shut her mouth and jumped into a crouch, ignoring the pain signals from her body. The place seemed unfamiliar. No, it didn't seem... It was. She stared, her hands going for her belt, where her usual arsenal of weapons... Well, her lightsaber was there. Her whip was not, and neither were her blasters or daggers.
She managed to straghten up exactly for a moment ebfore dropping to her knees again. Her mind swirled as lists of problems began to form in it, but there was one that rose above all, kicking the rest of them down.
Nessarose was hungry.
Nessarose lay on the cold ground of the tunnels beneath the Forbidden Temple on Endelaan. Arms spread to her sides, her eyes glowed in the dim light, staring at the ceiling. She had tried to move earlier, but the poison coursing through her veins kept her from it. She had attempted to call on the Force, to rid herself of it, thoughts of her other half and their children sharpening her minds helping her remain conscious and alert even when all else failed.
Footsteps came from her left. All she could do was try to look in the general direction, but there was nothing to greet her other than another pair of eyes that glowed stronger than hers, making the facial features of the person completely blurred.
"You show more strength than the few I have visited prior to you. By all I know, you ought to be dreaming right now," the person said. Nessaose could make out it was a female voice, timeless. Her heart skipped a beat as thoughts turned to her ancestors, Ashmedai and Bodicea. "I am not them," the voice said, and Nessarose wished she had enough muscle control to groan. It was very rude to enter people's minds and read their thoughts, and much of her early years in existence had been spent on keeping people out of hers.
So it wasn't even going to be telepathy, she sighed internally. Just think. And the person would maybe, hopefully, answer. Who else had the power to perform such a deed if not for them? Even death was not a permanent thing with those two. "You have neglected the other side of your family," the voice answered her thoughts, "but I am benevolent, and it shall be forgiven. For now."
Nessarose managed a blink.
"Dark times are coming, child of my blood. And neither you nor those I find of interest have the power to properly see them through." Nessa scoffed on the inside. The whole dark times crap was getting so bloody old. She was sure she'd heard it at least two dozen times in the last year alone. "Your mother heeded my words with more care than this." But Nessarose was not Shery. She'd never been. And right now, she had half a mind to kill whoever had done this to her and go check on some other family members. Maybe kill them too in the process.
So anyway, what now? Was she going to hear more of this verbal diarrhea before she was either killed or let go? The woman chuckled. "You take too much after your god father. If I hadn't known better I might have mistaken you for a child of his, regardless of your paramour." Nessa imagined herself puking in her mouth. A little.
"You shall be preserved, Nessarose deWinter. The next few centuries will pass with the beat of a heart, and you will return to this existence once it is safe to do so." Wait, WHAT?! No. No no no no. Nessa wanted so badly to shake her head. She didn't wanna wake up in some random future. What about Dio? And her parents? Her siblings? Her children! "Sacrifices must be made, child of my blood. I sacrified many of mine so that I could be here." There was no more groaning. No more sighing. No more puke in her mouth. Inside of her head, Nessarose was screaming.
"Planets will drop and planets will rise, planets will move across the galactic map. But my blood shall never die. Those I have chosen will make sure of that. And perhaps, child of my blood, we shall meet again in the future."
Nessarose's scream ripped through the very air of the cavern.
~ Post-Gulag: some planet somewhere, that is not Endelaan
It was the first thing she heard - herself screaming. Her eyes snapped open and she sat up, her skin expecting the soft touch of her bed sheets. Instead there was sand. Cold, sharp. She shut her mouth and jumped into a crouch, ignoring the pain signals from her body. The place seemed unfamiliar. No, it didn't seem... It was. She stared, her hands going for her belt, where her usual arsenal of weapons... Well, her lightsaber was there. Her whip was not, and neither were her blasters or daggers.
She managed to straghten up exactly for a moment ebfore dropping to her knees again. Her mind swirled as lists of problems began to form in it, but there was one that rose above all, kicking the rest of them down.
Nessarose was hungry.