You Don't Need All Your Bones, Surely. [Thyrian]

[Lief]

The young woman paced across the deck of her bridge in thought, thumbing her chin as she inspected the specimen caged before her, an old catch she had used to lure in @[member='Valik'] so he might begin her Alchemical training. The Chrysalide Rancor made a tremendous racket, enough to set the young Knight on edge, her teeth clenching together and her hand curling into a fist. It had been experimented on, used by she and her would-be-Master, a means to their end, but now she had a greater use for it. The bones of such a creature had been harvested and used in the past to create blaster and lightsaber resistant blades for the Felucians, a natural remedy against those who would enslave or attack them. While she had no intention of making a blade out of the creature she had decided upon a new design for her lightsaber hilt, one which would make use of a small amount of this creature's bones; a grip which would make it so she would not so easily lose her blade if overpowered by a stronger foe, or at least make it less inclined to being destroyed.

But how to combat the issue of the added weight... More often than not the young woman had difficulties where her physical abilities were concerned, she was not strong, some might even say she was frail and fragile in build, and the bone weighed more than your standard lightsaber grip. That can be dealt with, the first hurdle comes in the form of the Rancor itself. Stepping towards the cage the young woman tilted her head to one side and smiled in thought. In order to acquire the bone she would have to enter it's energy cage, a difficulty in itself given that the Rancor would like as not attempt to crush her beneath it's fists. Part of her did not want to subdue it with the Force again, a twisted thought at best - she wanted it to retaliate, to fight back, she wanted a sense of achievement at the end. "Thyrian" she instructed, with little more being said, bringing her Apprentice forth from the shadows where he had been waiting. He knew his part to play - he was not to attack the Rancor, he was not to harm it or kill it, merely to monitor and watch - to ensure it did not attempt to escape, nor do any serious damage to the ship.

Steeling herself, she stepped forth and began to deactivate the shields...

@[member='Thyrian Ashborn']

 

[Thyrian Hearthfire]

"YES, MY QUEEN."

The Ashborn stepped from the shadows into the light, standing before the massive, hulking beast locked within his cage. But not for long, as his master began the deactivation of the shields containing it. His task was to maintain control of the beast, to make sure it did not damage the ship without harming the beast itself. A pretty unmanagable task to most, but he would not falter nor derelict his duty to his Queen; her wish was his command. Once the shield had been deactivated, the Rancor lingered inside at first, taking its time to comprehend what had just happened. As it came to grips with the situation, however, it chose to charge out into the large empty hold where Thyrian awaited him. Stopping just short of barging into the Ashborn, the alchemical Rancor loudly sniffed the air around him, no doubt adjusting to the scent of ashes and brimstone it managed to pick up from Thyrian. He had not flinched at its charge, nor displayed any signs of fear, which greatly puzzled the beast. For now, it was stood examining its 'prey', measuring him up. The Rancor had given no thought to Kära, who had remained in the shadows off to the side for the duration.

@[member="Kära Vi'dreya"]

 

[Lief]

"I need but an arm" she mused to herself as she slid forth from the side she had chosen to linger within in order to size up the beast whom had been upon her experimental table more than a few times. The Alchemized Rancor had no love for the woman who stood before it, and raised one of its great fists in protest before bringing it slamming down towards her body, in a meagre attempt at crushing her. But, like the Djem-So user, it had given her all the indication required for its action, so her lightweight, agile frame was able to gracefully step aside and miss the hit, although she was shaken with the blow of the impact the creature made against her lovely metallic flooring.

With a tssking noise she shook her head. "That won't do, I'm rather fond of my ship in one piece." Slowly she began to step around the creature, but she already knew what she wanted from it. She didn't even need to kill it, infact she much preferred the notion of not doing so - it left her with something to further her experiments upon, and besides she was almost certain that Valik would have her go out and fetch another. She doubted the luck she suffered last time would work a second time, all it would have taken was for the Rancor to have been slightly faster and less susceptible to her mind games for it to have squashed her underfoot. No, this would be the only Rancor in her life for the foreseeable future.

Knowing that her lightsaber blade would not bypass the creatures bones, which was the reason she was harvesting them in the first place, Kara instead knew she would have to resort to crushing them, a carefully placed blast of pure kinetic force would manage such, hopefully splinter the bone enough for her to amputate the arm. But the creature was all in a frenzy, and to do so immediately would only rile it up further. She could not afford for her ship to be destroyed, not while it lingered in orbit. "This creature will be the death of me, one day" she murmured, with a small shake of her head. Oh, how she despised the Rancor.

@[member="Thyrian Ashborn"]

 

[Thyrian Hearthfire]

When the Rancor attempted to crush his master, Thyrian flared up for a brief moment. His fears was put to rest quickly, however, as his master skillfully slipped out of harm's way. Instead, the Ashborn advanced towards the beast as she contemplated how to proceed. With an ingition of one of his lightsabers the Rancor turned to face him; he knew full-well he was not to harm the beast, and so only used the sabre as a means to catch its attention away from Kära as she prepared to make with what they came here for.

@[member="Kära Vi'dreya"]

 

[Lief]

When her Apprentice stepped up to the mark and began to distract the creature she knew that it was time. What was one arm to an already mutated creature? Not that Kara was having second thoughts, she fully intended to carry out this.... Procedure. Remaining where she was the Knight began to focus, drawing upon all her internal passions, those which were locked away for the majority of her days and released with such precision that she barely even batted an eyelid. One had to be regal, composed, at least in her eyes, and as such the idea of outwardly losing control, even when ones internal was rampaging, did not appeal. When the Rancor fully turned from her she directed a pure blast of kinetic energy at the creature's right arm, directly aimed for the elbow to push and crack the bone out in the opposing direction to its joint. The resounding noise was a sickly crack of splintered bone and marrow, swiftly followed by the most ear-splitting screech imaginable.

And now the fun began. The Rancor turned on her, forgetting the glow of Ashborn's lightsaber blade, and began to raise it's good fist, slamming it continually down into the cold metallic ground and shaking the very foundations of the ship. Several lights spluttered out and for a moment the ship itself shook in its entirety, a momentary lapse in its stabiliser rocking it to and fro. Breathing in slowly she maintained her step away from it, but two gigantic steps forwards and it was ontop of her, swiping back down at her to try and snatch her up from the ground. While it missed the creature did manage to whack its giant hand against the right side of her body, jolting and jarring the arm as the joints locked in place, and practically dislocating the shoulder. Sucking in a hissed breath the young woman drew upon the pain it caused to fuel herself, clenched her jaw, and leapt aside, keeping her right arm in one place so as not to damage it further. "Cut the left arm, from the elbow down" she said suddenly to the Ashborn, knowing full well the folly of going back in herself. The bone had splintered and snapped with her former assault, meaning it was purely skin, hide and muscle he had to cut through, alongside the tendons and ligaments of course, none of which held the resistance that the bone did.

"Do not kill it, though" she added, as she began to redirect the creature towards the cage, luring it in through taunting, the creature wanted her life, her blood, and in its frenzy it did not notice where it was being redirected to. Hopefully Thyrian would get the arm off in time for her to have the creature shoved back into its holding cell. She'd had enough of it for one day.

@[member="Thyrian Ashborn"]

 

[Thyrian Hearthfire]

Stepping forth to heed the words of his master, the Ashborn ignited his second saber and marched on the creature currently busy attempting to smash *her*; his Queen and Sovereign, his Master and Lady Sith. Had he not been given strict instructions of their buisness here, he would have cut the beast down where it stood for even thinking itself worthy of breathing the same air as her. Striking from behind, Thyrian leaped through the air and by channeling all his built up rage split the crushed bone apart where it was damaged the most, severing the arm completely from the rest. With a loud thud it fell upon the floor while the Rancor roared even louder in pain, shrieking and howling as it stumbled and blindly swung its other arm in hopes of hitting one of them. Deciding enough was enough, the Ashborn still stood behind the raging Rancor as he grabbed hold of its right leg and forcefully shoved it into its cage before engaging the locking mechanism. He then turned to face his master, who had kept her distance once the chaos erupted, then walked over to her and gently placed a hand down on her shoulder. "ARE YOU HURT, MASTER? DID IT...?" His concern was as always for her safety and well-being.

@[member="Kära Vi'dreya"]

 

[Lief]

Kära stood in place and watched as Thyrian dealt the final blow to the creature’s arm, tearing limb from torso by manipulating the weakness she had formed. Her own shoulder felt on fire, as though it had been crushed by a vice, but truth be told it was due to the dislocation. It could be fixed easily, but the effects would linger for a few weeks until the shock-damage dealt to the joint eased off. When the Ashborn forcefully pushed the Rancor it flailed and stumbled back into the cage, disorientated due to the loss of its arm, causing it to be badly-balanced and woosy. When Thyrian came to where she stood and settled a hand upon her shoulder the woman seized and tensed up, but she made no noise to show discomfort. Instead she clenched her jaw and stared up at him, dismissing his question. “The arm, I would have it” she asserted as she turned on her heels and made her way across to the surgical table, distinctly keeping the damaged arm in one place. What she would ask of Thyrian next would no doubt go against his ideals. “I need you to force my arm back into place, you are physically stronger than I am and so you’ll be able to relocate it with much more ease.” Truth be told she did not care if it displeased him to do so; he had his order, and she would see to it that he followed it through. Right now she could not be dealing with a worried giant, there was too much to be done.

@[member="Thyrian Ashborn"]

 

[Thyrian Hearthfire]

When ordered to he turned from her and walked to grab hold of the severed arm, dragging it towards her against the floor of the ship. Tiny twitches arose from it, like a fish on land desperately trying to return to the sea it came from. Once back at where Kära stood, he loosened his grip and let it fall to the ground a few feet away from her. Her next order, however... made things difficult for the Ashborn. Unable to reply at first, he was stood still towering above his master, looking down into her eyes without a sound being made. It was as if he'd blanked out for a second or two. "FORGIVE ME, MASTER. I..." A great conflict had arose within him; while his master, his Queen, was in pain in her current state, should he inflict even greater pain to relieve her from the old? Could he? To inflict damage onto that which he held most dear - the only thing he held dear in the Galaxy - was inconceivable to even consider. Her words were sure of themselves as she had uttered them, however, meaning she wished him to carry out his duty to her. For an unfeeling monster such as he, Thyrian cringed at the prospect of harming her. Very gently gripping her arm within his huge hands clad in armor, her delicate skin dancing upon his touch, he held it in place stretched out from her towards himself. The next step on the other hand, was seemingly impossible for him to carry out. For several seconds he hesitated, remaining stood like that. "KÄRA, I... I CANNOT..." His grip loosened somewhat. "I CANNOT BRING MYSELF TO HARM YOU, MY QUEEN." His head tilted up to meet her gaze, his eyes pleading behind the mask he wore.

"DO IT!"

A menacing hiss echoed loudly within his mind, his inner self howling at him. Without any say in the matter his chaotic nature took command over his grip and violently snapped the arm into place, far too rough than was necessary. It took a brief moment for the Ashborn to realise what had just happened; his limbs operated on their own during that very moment. Once the moment had passed, however, a loud roar made its way to the Ashborn. "NO!" he cried out, slamming his fist into the nearby wall several times, before slumping to the floor as if in physical pain. "M-MY QUEEN, I... I DON'T... I-I CAN'T...!" In an instant his world had shattered, and had he been able to he would have shed tears over what he had just done. A slight panic arose from within him, feeling unable to cope with it all. His other nature had brought physical harm to the one person he loved in existence, tearing open a wound within him unable to heal. On his knees before his beloved, he felt unworthy of her presence. "KÄRA... MY LITTLE ONE..." Before him stood no longer the commanding master of his, but the tiny little girl he once knew. Imagining having done harm to such a delicate creature was an act only punishable by obliteration. "I WISH IT TO END, LITTLE ONE... PLEASE, END ME."

@[member="Kära Vi'dreya"]

 

[Lief]

While Thyrian struggled to do what she had bid the woman used the Force in order to lift the arm up onto the examination table, not trusting in the strength of her dislocated arm to carry the burden. Her eyes snapped to the screaming Rancor, and a large breath was required to calm herself and fuel the darkside within her through the pain in order to force her mind inside that of the beast. Twisting it at first caused the screams to increase, before she hit a soft spot and the creature fell, slumping down in an unconscious state. It would awaken, eventually. Right now she simply could not deal with two shouting giants. When he finally grasped her arm she braced herself, and yet she was disappointed to find his refusal. “You can, and you will” she asserted, her voice chipped and icy. This was as painful for her as it was for him, and vice versa. She stared back into the voids of his eyes until snap – her arm was reslotted into its socket. A gasp resonated from the woman, a reaction she would have shown in the presence of no other save this her humble giant.

The ship rocked as Ashborn stampeded away and slammed his fists into the walls which had been reinforced to contain him. Yet when he slumped down in shame, fearing he had harmed her, the woman rolled her shoulder, drew upon the lingering pain, and made her way across to him. Crouching down before him she looked back into his void-filled eyes and glared. “Get. Up.” Her voice warranted no compromise. “I did not bring you purpose for you to throw it away. Get. UP.”

@[member="Thyrian Ashborn"]

 

[Thyrian Hearthfire]

There was no compromise. There was no weakness. There was no... emotion. None of these could be found in his Queen, evidently, even in this time of personal crisis for the Ashborn. Part of him feared she had become too corrupted by the dark forces wielded by the Sith to recognise any signs of care and compassion, and that she was no longer the same little one he had stayed with for so long. Thoughts like these only worsened his decaying state, as it made him question his loyalty to his master, who he loves beyond the end of time, thereby believing he is the one who is at fault. His humble stance got even more so as he refused her at first, instead lowering himself further towards the floor of the ship to show his remorse. "YOU... ARE MY EVERYTHING, MY LITTLE ONE. I SWORE I WOULD NEVER HURT YOU AGAIN, AND NOW... I HAVE BROKEN MY VOW. I AM NOT WORTHY OF YOUR ATTENTION, MY MASTER." He did not say these things out of self-pity, but out of love for his master; she gave him life, and what did he ever do to repay her? He felt inadequate, useless even. She was all that he cared for, every part of her, and he was all everything he despised. She was perfection, and he was the filth beneath her feet. "WHY DID YOU BRING ME TO LIFE, KÄRA? WHY NOT LET ME DISAPPEAR INTO NOTHINGNESS?"

@[member="Darth Kyros"]

 

[Lief]

For just a moment her composure slipped and she realised just how genuine his words were. No longer was she the Sith she had become but instead the caring child who had brought him away from Circe's chains... And into what? Her own? No, she refused to believe that she was as Circe had been, as Circe was. But by forcing him to remain alive was she just as guilty? Stepping slowly toward him she slipped a hand out and settled it to the side of his helmet, staring into the pits of his eyes. "I am not hurt, you broke no vow, nor did I agree to such terms" Her voice was quiet, careful and oddly caring for once. "So rise, my Phoenix, and return to my side where you belong."

She turned away from him to focus on the task at hand when his second question hit her hard. "Because I needed you, as much as you needed me. I could not bear to see Circe win again, nor you to be treated like a caged animal. I do not regret the decision." Without another word she stepped over to the workbench, frowning to herself at how open she had been. But it was Thyrian, the only soul in this Galaxy she trusted - aside from his brother. Rolling her shoulder again she waited for the pain to subside before getting to work removing the skin, flesh, muscle and other unnecessary components which made up the Rancor's arm, stripping it down to the bone and removing enough of the marrow to make a snug fit. It would take a while for her to shape this correctly, but the end result would be worth it.

@[member="Thyrian Ashborn"]

 

[Thyrian Hearthfire]

Watching her as she wandered off towards the workbench, his hollow and glowing pits of eyes were fixed upon her. Such a graceful and nimble thing, she was, yet resourceful and calculating at the same time. Rising to his feet, he giant remained stood in place for a while, merely watching her work from several feet away. A quick glance down at the arm he had procured for his Queen, he couldn't help but frown upon her getting her hands filthy by staining them with this lowly creature's blood. He set his eyes on her as he made his way over there with just a few huge strides, positioning himself behind her. His hulking, armour-clad frame could be seen as threatening coming up behind someone, but she knew better than to be frightened by the one person who genuinely cared about her. Slowly he stepped closer to her, reaching around her tiny frame to grasp at her dirty hands. "STOP." His voice was calm and at peace, yet deep and booming all the same. "PLEASE, DO NOT STAIN YOUR GRACEFUL FORM WITH SUCH FILTH, MY QUEEN." His large, metallic fingers couldn't help themselves from caressing her delicate hands, dispensing with some of the filth covering them. In truth he did not know how she would react to this obvious show of affection, as she had never been one to shy away from doing things herself. He would not be swayed from his set course, however, as he picked up where she had left off working on the bone and stripping away the flesh and whatnot, all while encompassing her from behind in a sort of embrace. "I WLL KEEP YOU SAFE..."

@[member="Darth Kyros"]

 

[Lief]

To say that Kära was livid when Thyrian dared to ask her to stop was an understatement. Rage filled her small form when he grasped her hands from behind and held them away from the severed arm, her eyes turning slowly from their icy blue form to a corrupted, sulphuric yellow. “Remove your hands this instance” she hissed, tone low and threatening. “Do not presume to order me around, nor decide which tasks I do.” She was unused to this sort of affection, even from the giant who had kept her safe all these years. Kyros had grown up alone in the world, with very little assistance or guidance from any. She did not deal well with others trying to assert themselves over her and her actions. It took all she had to avoid lashing out at him, giving him one firm chance to remove himself from her personal space and permit her to continue. He had been broken and remade by her hands once, when she was but a child, she had no doubts in her mind that she could do so again.

@[member="Thyrian Ashborn"]

 

[Thyrian Hearthfire]

The reaction of which his master displayed to his attempt at showing affection forced a deep sigh upon the Ashborn, who felt confused and bewildered at her menacing response. A wave of sorrow and frustration alike washed over him as he immidiately let go of her hands and backed away; sorrow over the fact that he had wronged her, and frustration over the fact of him being... him. His eyes were fixed upon her as he backed off, as a thousand thoughts assailed his mind at once, most of which served as a reminder of his failures in service to his Master. At least, that was what his raging other self kept chanting at him. No words could be found, and he suspected she would not hear them had he found them. Instead he turned and was about to leave her to her work, but before he was able to he clenched a fist as the other hand savagely ripped apart his helmet. He was tired, so very tired. Weary of his pitiful existence, made only tolerable at best through serving his Queen. His face and head both flared up as he started walking, yet he found himself unable to leave her here, alone. It was maddening, to say the least, to love someone without remorse yet she showed little signs of affection, if any. He could not act against her in any way, nor talk back at her, for he loved her beyond measure.

Instead he took out his frustrations on himself, for he was the one to blame, as always. He began pacing back and forth, breathing heavily as his frustration built up, turning into pure rage as a hissing, insane ramble spouted forth from his flaming pit-of-a-mouth. But before he managed to explode into a fiery inferno completely, he instead lost his balance all of a sudden, and began stumbling backwards until he hit the wall of the ship. He fell to the ground with his back towards the wall, and his rage quickly died off. In its place there were quiet sobbing, and not the sobbing of a grown man, but of a little boy. Solemn tears of molten rock dripped onto the floor of the ship, fizzling as it touched the dark metal. The fires consuming his head faded and assumed a faint glow, blue like the weakest and most vulnerable of lit candles. The Ashborn may be a giant inferno in shape and size, but his alchemical engineering at the hands of the Sith had made him such. His mind was anything but his own, as he was torn between his beloved and the raging behemoth lying dormant within him. To top it off, any quiet moment was marred by the visions of... someone else's life, seemingly. He was tired, so very tired. Sitting with his back against the wall he lifted his gaze to meet Kära's, who no doubt had witnessed this display of weakness. "KÄRA... WHO IS 'THURION'?"

@[member="Darth Kyros"]

 

[Lief]

Kyros did not immediately know how to respond. Thyrian had overstepped his place, but that did not mean she had wanted to drive him back into the state which left him borderline insane, rage spreading through him and heating up the room like an oven. She closed her eyes and breathed in through her nose, keeping herself calm and collected, it would not do to lose her temper with him now. Instead she settled down the skinning knife and turned around. Her hands she wiped upon the apron before she likewise removed that. By the time she reached him he was upon the ground, whimpering like a little child… Like Thurion had when she told him it was time for her to leave. Her heart tightened and she slipped a hand into her pocket where the stark, bone white pebble lay. A gift from the only friend she had ever had, the only one she had ever opened up to. Were times about to change? She did not know for certain. Crouching down before him she made a soothing noise and reached out, yet his suit was extremely hot and she couldn’t settle down her hand. “Thyrian…” she whispered softly, “my Phoenix, calm yourself.” Everything was a stir, confusing for the Umbaran who knelt in place. She felt like the child again, she who happened to stumble across a tortured soul and release him from captivity. Yet had she merely taken the reins from Circe? Was she a greater monster than those who had created Thyrian to be this way?

But his question, the question… That which she had kept from him for so long, the answer hidden upon her lips, brought her to near melting point. It was time to put away that charade. It was time he learnt the truth; maybe he would hate her after this, but if he tried to break free she knew she could rein him back in. But would she? Perhaps being upon the ship was not the best of ideas, and one look to Skydd and he knew what to do. He began to pilot the ship away from orbit and down to the surface of the planet below. “Hush…” she whispered one last time, before tilting her head to look upon him. “Thurion is your brother” the woman added, bowing her head slowly, yet keeping her senses upon him – she could not let this get out of hand. “You… You died in a fire, Thyrian, saving his life, trying to save the lives of others, too.” Why was she telling him this? If he knew who he truly was, she would lose him – he would like as not step into the light. She bit her lip, her breathing almost silent at this point as she regulated it. “He’s a Jedi, that which we oppose, yet… He is the only one I could never harm.” The last words were whispered; she knew none would find out about this, Thyrian’s mind was solid against all save she, and he would not speak of her weaknesses to another… Would he? He reminded her so much of his younger brother, yet the pair were likewise so different… “I… I couldn’t tell you, not while you were so enraged all the time, Thyrian…” But truth be told, she had been selfish – as much as she failed to show it, she cared about the giant before her, she did not want to lose his presence at her side. She reached out to him again, hand settling against his upper arm despite the seering heat which burned against her palm.

@[member="Thyrian Ashborn"]

 

[Thyrian Hearthfire]

The giant inferno hated himself, utterly and completely; not even now in his troubled state he could not grasp the hand of his beloved Queen for comfort, nor could she soothe him with her touch, for doing so would harm her greatly and would only bring more pain unto the Ashborn. "MY... MY BROTHER?" He hung his head as if ashamed, his words were full of confusion and frustration. "I HAVE A BROTHER...? A JEDI?!" He'd fought Jedi many times before, what if one of them had been his brother? "YOU... YOU KNEW THIS WHOLE TIME? YOU'VE SPOKEN TO HIM, YOU KNOW HIM?" His expressionless eyes settled upon her, all while tears of molten rock continued to run down his charred cheeks. Even more questions littered his mind. "I'VE HAD... VISIONS, EVER SINCE MY CREATION. VISIONS OF ANOTHER LIFE, OF ANOTHER PERSON... NOW YOU'RE TELLING ME THAT PERSON IS ME - OR RATHER, WAS ME?!" His anger was not directed at her, only at his miserable existence, as it always had. Slamming his armoured fist down into the floor beside him, he closed his eyes and issued a loud roar of agony which proceeded to echo for what seemed like hours throughout the ship. His fist had made a considerable dent onto the floor, but he did not notice or care. His breaths were heavy and exhausted, yet they halted themselves as soon as his Queen settled a hand upon his upper arm. Immediately he grasped her clothed arm and pulled her hand away from him; not to spite her or out of malice, but to protect her, acting purely on instinct. As quickly as he'd put his hand around her delicate arm, he let go of her once her hand had been removed from him, so as not to inflict any unnecessary harm upon her. "MY BELOVED, NO... PLEASE." Reaching for a piece of cloth lying on the floor, he tore a piece of it and made a make-shift bandage before settling it upon the lightly singed palm of her hand. In no time he had wrapped her hand within the piece of cloth, and he brought her hand up to his face which remained engulfed in delicate, blue flames. Thyrian then opened his mouth and proceeded to breathe calmly into her bandaged palm; his breath would not feel burning hot upon her skin, but gentle and caressing like a warm summer-breeze. "I AM STILL YOURS, MY BELOVED QUEEN, AND I ALWAYS WILL BE."

@[member="Darth Kyros"]

 

[Lief]

What could she do?

Kära simply stared at him as he spoke, as he swiftly patched up her burnt hand, as tears of molten lava scarred his cheeks...

Bowing her head she spoke to him, her outershell breaking form to reveal a little of the child within. She had aged too suddenly, forced to at a very young age, she had never truly expressed herself as a little one, and thus it had been suppressed. "Thurion" she whispered again, using her free hand to gently reach into her pocket. Her hand closed around the stark white pebble, which she had kept all these years, and she pulled it from her pocket. "This... This is the only reminder I have of him" she admitted, showing it to him. "He said you used to collect them, the both of you." But she would speak no more of it, not now, and thus her hand closed around the stone and she retracted it back into her pocket. Slowly she rose from the ground, and bid him do the same. "You should rest, Thyrian. I will finish up here."

@[member="Darth Taral"]

 

[Thyrian Hearthfire]

Thyrian watched his beloved rise to her feet, about to return to her work. He wished nothing more than to grab hold of her hand and pull her back down, to have her curl up with him on the floor, but he could not. This was what plagued him above all else, the bane of his existence; to not be able to touch his only love was a punishment more destructive than death itself. She was all he lived for, yet he could never please her. She was the one good thing in his life, and he would constantly disappoint her. He was unworthy of her. Against his better judgement, he reached out and grabbed hold of her robes before she could walk away. "PLEASE DO NOT LEAVE ME, LITTLE ONE. YOU ARE ALL I HAVE - MY ONE FLAME IN THE DARKNESS." So little she was, compared to him, yet so much stronger in will and spirit. This time he would not let go of her despite her bidding him to do so, for should she leave him now he would be lost in the darkness, without his flame to lead him. "PLEASE..."

@[member="Kära Vi'dreya"]

 

[Lief]

Thyrian did not move, save to grasp the hem of her robes. Instead of allowing anger to spread through her she turned her gaze down to him, oddly tender. "Everything you have done, Thyrian, has been your own doing." With a small sigh she turned fully and knelt down before him, head tilted to the left. "Don't you realise that? All I have done is show you the way, pushed you - sometimes too hard. Come, rise..." She said, gesturing for him to stand gently. "Work needs to be done, Thyrian..." With a small sigh she reached down a hand to his armour and attempted to brush it away, with a very small frown. "You are stronger than this." Gesturing toward the table she perked her brow and waited to see if he would join her.

@[member="Thyrian Ashborn"]

 

[Thyrian Hearthfire]

"I AM ONLY AS STRONG AS YOU WANT ME TO BE, MY QUEEN..." he said while attempting to rise to his feet. It was a slow process, and a painful one at that. Once standing at full-length, towering above the sleek form of his master, the Ashborn looked down at her. "I WILL NOT LEAVE YOUR SIDE, MASTER. I WILL HELP YOU FINISH YOUR WORK. IT IS WHAT I AM FOR. IT IS ALL I AM." Gathering the interlocking pieces of his mask from the floor, he reassembled it and donned it once more as the eyes of the headpiece lit up and stared down at his little one. "FORGIVE ME, MY MASTER. I FORGOT MY PLACE. I AM ONLY HERE TO SERVE YOU, NOTHING MORE." Thyrian's words had grown cold and lifeless, resembling those of a droid or a brokened-down slave. If this is what she wished him to be, the Ashborn would abide. "COMMAND ME."

@[member="Lady Kyros"]