Memoirs and Recollection of a Fractured Heart - Sovernus Nova

[Lord Iezkon]

Entry #11 of Horuset Chronicles:
Accusations and Transactions

***A collection of organised thoughts regarding the allegations against Nedhorroc by Alencia and a descriptive account on the transaction of the Krath Cult scroll.***

Accusations

Intrigues and schemes are often concocted with a certain intent in mind.

No less do one’s success hinges on calculations and preparation as it does on choosing the right opponent. Yet I’ve grown exhausted from incessant antagonizing intentions that are no more than misgivings of certain individuals.

There were a number of rivalries or perhaps more accurately defined as tensions between certain people. The notion of camaraderie is fleeting at best, as I personally believe a measure of antagonism between your superiors, peers and inferiors are essential to temperance. However, I have ill reservations towards those who simply provokes with no clear goal nor intention in mind.

An intrigue happened to unfold between Alencia and Nedhorroc. Though to call it such is rather redundant, if not embellishing the low level conceptual impacts onto one another. As previously mentioned, there was an abrupt assault onto Th’Asidra, which left many wondering whether it was an inside job. Alencia was tasked by Lord Kalkoran investigate and report on the matter, for her to detail events that transpired leading up to the attack.

There were allegations and accusations purported by the red-haired provoker, to instill the idea that Nedhorroc was in some measure or form involved with the attackers, detailing suspicious movements and behavior of his. Due to the report submitted by her, the Zabrak came under intense pressure by Apprentices alike- some even assaulted him by means of telekinesis, threatening him as though his involvement with the attack was confirmed.

The Zabrak contacted me via holo, inquiring my insights on the matter while requesting support to deal with the issue. At first the entire ordeal was not mapped out yet, so I enquired about the report sent to Lord Kalkoran in which he procured for me to read. It did not take me even a single minute to realise the depth and inadequacy of the report itself, there were too many leaps of assumptions, double standards and irrelevant information that diverges from the main core investigation. It does not take a genius to understand that the report itself was designed to undermine Nedhorroc, as it does not bring anything conclusive to the investigation.

Within minutes I listed down counter arguments against the accusations and reasoning in the report, detailing flaws in statements, fallacies, inconsistencies and points that were irrelevant. I sent the notes to the Zabrak and told him to request an appeal to Lord Kalkoran to illustrate the false allegations and proclaim one’s innocence on the matter. Verily I do not understand the reasoning why he did not do so earlier before any damage was done, I would have immediately requested an appeal to prevent further besmirching of one’s name before the consequences follow. By the end of our holocall I requested a recording of the appeal made and any interactions with the Lord, for my own purposes.

Nedhorroc returned with the success of the appeal, he provided me the recordings of the interaction and showed his gratitude for clearing his name. Curiously after this incident, the sudden assaults and verbal threats were halted and a week later Alencia’s reputation continued to plummet down. There was a major holocom announcement made that she was to bow down to everyone, including other acolytes and we are able to punish her accordingly. The announcement was made by Lord Kalkoran, which compelled me to question what extreme insubordination she enacted to warrant a harsh punishment such as that.

Alas the entire ordeal is the least of my concerns, it brought a modicum of amusement but it did not outweigh the disappointment I harbored in certain individuals. As a militant, had these sorts of intrigues interfered with Imperial operations in exchange for self-satisfaction of undermining your peers, I would have meted out punishments of severity. As a Sith, there was no tangible benefits in these ‘powerplays’, undermining another to salvage a measure of satisfaction is appalling when it serves no higher purpose. Never scheme for scheming sake, often one confuses the means for the ends and that is detrimental to the Empire

Regardless, I’ve gained more influence over Nedhorroc and the ordeal did provide some intriguing leverage over certain people. While I am displeased, I cannot say I did not benefit from the conflict- verily I believe I am the only one that is aware of a crucial information that was involuntarily leaked out. There will be a time where I dispense the opportunity, but for now my patience holds dominion.

Updates on Lord Sanguinis’s challenge

On Kaas City, I converged towards the meeting point of the Imperial Reclamation contact by the name of Felisia Nel. For an agonizing moment, her paranoia surged throughout as she initially accused me of some vague intention of ambushing or kidnapping her. I was driven close to approach her by means of aggressive coercion but realized it would not serve me well. To cement some measure of trust, I provided her my personal datapad to give her the sense of having a measure of leverage over me, a form of ‘’advanced deposit’’ one that I will recollect after the ordeal is finished. After which we sidetracked ourselves with casual conversations and a hint of misdirection on my part. Her mood improved, as she no longer exhibits paranoia or anxieties. It lead me to believe she suffered from a mental disorder, but nonetheless we continued towards the discussion of artifacts.

The conversation flowed and I’ve inquired about her occupation and the directory of artifacts the IRS has. She was safeguarding critical information and I was only able to inquire when the question was specific, yet she made inconsistencies and slip of the tongue. Pointing out those subtle comments and piecing together by means of logical deduction, she relented and spoke of the possibility of an object that aligned with my search.

A scroll from the Krath Cult that originated from the Empress Teta System. The cult itself was a conglomeration of Dark Side users cultivated by means of reclaiming Sith teachings, piecing together techniques. Sorcery and alchemy through illusions and amulets were the center of the cult, demonstrating aptitude in handling talismans and alchemical weapons. Felisia Nel continued regaling her investigation, citing that during the Cold War several ancient scrolls were discovered.

A few Krath cultists survived near the end of the Great Sith War and scattered across the Outer Rim, mainly in the regions around and in Korriban. With some cultists joining the Sith settlements, while others isolated themselves. The hoarding of knowledge was evident, and Felisia Nel believed that remnants of their teachings were safeguarded in desolate temples or ruins. There were rumors that a scroll was circulating in Kaas City. I contacted the female smuggler by the alias of ‘Stormwind’ who I exchanged contact after putting her friend Zolic’ke in his place.

After several days, she contacted me and arranged a meeting with Skraven who claims to be in possession the Krath scroll in question. Our initial meeting point was outside the Nexus Room, yet due to the nature of our proposed transaction, we opted to find a more seclusive area where we would not be under public scrutiny of the Imperials. The transaction followed and I was able to procure the scroll in question while relinquishing funds, yet the smooth transition instilled some aching feeling in my subconscious.

The sensation was warranted when I returned to Felisia Nel. It was revealed that the scroll I procured was a fabrication, she thoroughly inspected the replica and found inconsistencies in the layering. A rising sensation of infuriation dwelled within my internal engine, yet I was more focused in retrieving my funds. I brought her alongside me this time and tracked down Skraven. With the help of ‘Stormwind’s’ tracking expertise, we were able to pinpoint his location.

A confrontation occurred, a disadvantageous one since we were close to the public. No doubt it was Skraven’s intentions to prevent sudden assault or aggressive approaches. A heated conversation erupted and I allowed my displeasure to be known, though the underworlder remained adamant nonetheless. Through verbal threats and intimidation, I pressured him further into coercion. When it was evident that he was not relenting, I utilized Force Wound to apply physical pressure. Granted my mastery of such was still at a practical stage and not yet consolidated on a combative phase, yet I was able to bluff my way through by exploiting his lack of knowledge of the Force.

Through verbal refinement, I told him that the sensation he was feeling was a looming terror that will culminate onto his spine. Detailing of my knowledge of the human anatomy, I provided excruciating details on the slow degradation of his biological construct. Naturally the ability does not have that capacity yet faced with the unknown and an eerie sensation that he could not explain he slowly became more agitated. A mixture of verbal wit and mental persuasion snapped his adamant exterior, and he finally relented in fear of his biological autonomy. Skraven revealed the true scroll and told me to leave him alone. Yet I was not done yet, I demanded he return my funds in addition to interests for his transgression.

By the end of the ordeal, I had Felisia thoroughly inspect the scroll in which she confirmed it was the genuine article. Her interest in it peaked, and I had to reassert the fact that I required it for my own purpose. I requested my datapad back and imparted the initial sum of funds to her for her troubles, which I noted she deemed it to be second to knowledge, a sentiment I share as well but nonetheless I was not willing to part with the scroll.

I found myself at Th’Asidra on the medbay after a brief sparring lesson with Apprentice Siors. Though it could hardly be called such, he did not hold back as he continuously launched Force Repulse at me in close proximity which culminated to a fractured ribcage. There I lay broken which reminded me of my initial months in Horuset, where the medbay was my unspoken dormitory.

Neophyte Aregra made herself known, as she strides to the side of the bed, gazing at me with inquiries flowing out. After detailing what transpired to me, I in turn inquired questions of my own. Specifically regarding Sith artifacts and how to decipher encryptions from tablets and such. Naturally she noted that inquiry was not one out of random curiosity, she knows that all my actions and words always serves a purpose. She pointed it out and I provided the minimalist of answers, as all these required to remain in the veil of obscurity. She directed me to delve into High Sith and provided me the direction towards understanding the language itself as it was critical in the pursuit of alchemy.

I spent the majority of the next several days in learning the Sith language, more specifically High Sith. While I cannot achieve fluency or fluid comprehension, I was able to catalogue and map out symbols, runes and inscriptions into basic alphabetical orders. The pursuit to understand High Sith would take months if not years to understand, so I opted to create a repository to translate in the meantime. Through sleepless nights I was able to decipher the scroll and pinpoint a location where I believe the remnants of the Krath Cult hid the artifact in question.

I must gather my strength and recover. For tomorrow I shall embark on a journey to reclaim remnants of lost Sith teachings.

[Lord Iezkon]

Entry #12 of Horuset Chronicles:
The Finale of Lord Sanguinis's Challenge

***An organised recollection of what transpired within the Krath Tomb and the conclusion to Lord Sanguinis's challenge.***

A renowned Arkanian pathfinder once said “People do not take trips. Trips takes people.”

Verily it is one of philosophical sentiment, expressing the change and transformations that can alter one’s perception in life. As though it brings a drastic revelation in one’s worldview, to have a life changing experience in embarking these adventures.

Yet the quote is lost upon me, or more precisely the connotation asserted is not one that I share with the masses. By my own admission, the path I tread towards the desolate ruin was adorned with plentiful skeletons and withering trails of those who were engulfed in quicksand; all with death’s fragrance buzzing in the air. The cracked bones and faint odor of malefic demise were the only reminders of former spirited explorers.

In that regard, trips do indeed take people.

The Krath Scroll drove me towards a coordinate that was hard to traverse, yet upon gazing at a fallen structure marked by Sith architectural influence, it propelled me further to engage on this adversarial journey. As the sun peaks in its plateau above the jagged mountains, my presence reached the entrance of the haunting tomb. A whiff of baleful aroma emanated from the darkened hallway, yet I trudged forth despite the discouraging olfactory sense.

The first interior chamber was a dead end- seemingly so, yet a thorough inspection onto the walls one can deduce that there was a mechanism of sorts to lift the main primary wall. Peering within the interior, the chamber was filled with skeletons and scattered primitive weaponries from a lost time. Yet the resonance of these were eerily emitting essences of the dark side, but it was not due to direct alchemy rather from an overexposure of a nexus that lies dormant within the temple.

An ornamental pedestal stood imposingly at the center, once I placed my hand onto it something drew me in and a strange sensation surged through me. The wall shook as dusts cascades off into the ambient atmosphere, revealing inscriptions that were similar to ones that were in the scroll. After momentarily deciphering it, I was able to unveil its message.

“What beast is that which defends souls, bears its bloody back, but man it saves, meets spears, gives life to some and lays itself besides a warrior’s palm?”

These riddles were often the bane of my rationalist thoughts, as they often contain abstract meanings. Though I mentally noted the presence of these primitive weapons earlier, radiating with a certain resonance. Gazing at the possibilities, it came to my attention that the pedestal holds similar markings to these arsenals, as though one of them has to be placed on it. Considering the riddle and its implication I eventually placed on of these upon the center pedestal.

A shield.

Once the crude ancient defense tool was settled on the pedestal, the primary section of the wall lowered itself, revealing another chamber. Once I entered however the wall enclosed on itself, trapping me within the interior. I took this as an indication to temper my conviction for there is no going back.

The chamber itself was unremarkable, except for the many small pillars situated at the corners of the room with what appears to be urns on them. The center of the room was a coffin engraved in old inscriptions. I inspected it shortly but could not unveil its meaning due to these carvings being illegible, as time corroded the indents. Against my better initial judgement, I opened one of the urns, and immediately a contrasting air rushed out in a thick white smog. In response I quickly closed the lid to prevent any more from pouring out in fear of it containing toxins, yet the thick vapor had been inhaled in that brief moment. I could not feel any difference nor could I detect any sensation of poison, so I concluded it was harmless, at least in the immediate time frame.  It was as though the pillar itself that connected to the urn were pipes itself, and whatever was underneath the room contained the gas.

My eyes were drawn towards a wall that shown engravings, and after briefly deciphering it, it unveiled yet another riddle that had to be solved.

“The great one who grasps the earth, swallowing wood and water will reveal the path. It dreads winds but envelops man all the same.”

I traced my thoughts in each word and carefully considered their implications. Through rational deduction it was evident these urns and pillars were not here for aesthetic reasons, and from that I reasoned that the enveloping vapour was the key to the riddle.

The concept of a thick fog fulfilled all the criteria of the riddle. Fog itself could envelop nature, and it could not withstand strong winds, and naturally consume the figure of man.

Yet I was hesitant.

Would I be willing to subject the entirety of the room with an unidentifiable vapour? Granted it could be an atmospherical phenomena similar to the desolate gradient pressure, yet to fully envelop myself in it was disconcerting. I considered it may even be simply smoke, from an everlighting source that exploits Korriban’s nature. Though nonetheless I had to make a decision quickly, and I resorted to following through with the plan.

I opened all the urns as the white vapour slowly filled the room. The visible spectrum was gradually diminishing and I found myself amidst clouds. Gradually the fog enveloped the entirety of the room and I heard a mechanism that clicked and I heard a wall move. At first, I was relieved that something was indeed activated from this gamble, yet the noise that followed broke my respite.

A vicious growl that bordered a primal ferocity made itself known. Judging from the sound of it, it was increasingly hostile and possesses a large frame. I utilized Force Sense to gather my bearings as best I could, and the audible noise of flaring nostrils confirmed to me that it inherently has an advantage in this situation. It could smell those who wandered in these tombs and would exploit those who were depended on vision in a fully enveloped room of fog.

It is here where my Arkanian physiology provides a distinctive edge. The infrared spectrum of my visual senses offered the sight of the creature through its body heat. Whilst I am unable to fully capture the intricate details of the specimen, it was evident that it is a rather prominently large Tuk’ata who saw fit to offer hostility in the ways of its claws. The struggle was evident, as the initial Force Push had minimal effect and the Force Shock only provided a delay in its ferocity. Slashes were expressed from my vibroknife whilst its claws find its way through the side of my waist, after continuous cautious bladework the beast eventually succumbed to its injuries and a final blow struck.

After patching my wounds and halting the injury from progressing farther, I sought to collect from the fallen Tuk’ata, fashioning myself it’s claws and teeth as I took my time carefully. I wanted the brain of the specimen to be preserved as best I could, and I was unsure whether I could retain the full extent of its condition- and so I crudely detached the head off instead with great effort and using augmentation. I ripped the hood of my robe to use as a carrying sack. It would have to do until I could find a storage with proper preservation reagent quickly.

Now with a deadline and time limit on my mind, I trudged towards where the Tuk’ata came from and found an opening in the wall which lead me to another chamber. At the same time the wall from the previous room opened once again and it allowed the fog to disperse. At this point I was fuming with impatience and frustration, and the injury I received was beginning to throb in agonizing symphony. The chamber itself was peculiar, with multiple columns with a reflective mirror on one side scattered around the room. The ceiling above had an opening which gave way to a singular focused light aimed towards the floor.

There was a wall with another inscription that had similarities to the scroll. After momentarily deciphering, it revealed yet another riddle.

“Time is the province of Gods and Kings; the path is open when light defies shadows for the enlightened.”

The wall had an indentation and a gem of sorts that was embedded onto it. Momentarily deducing a way to solve the riddle, I eliminated several alternatives until I came to the conclusion that the light was meant to reflect that one gem and that the mirror columns were meant to aid in that endeavor.

The ground in which the singular light focused on was peculiar, and after I removed the sands it revealed that there was a mirror on the floor which immediately redirected the light. I opted to scout the mirrors around the chambers to find the trajectories that eventually lead the light towards the gem.

Though there was an issue.

Two of those columns were broken, perhaps damaged from a battle that ensued within the tomb. It made the trail of light incomplete and thus it could not fulfill its purpose of reflecting onto that gem.

Time was running out, aside from the brain of the Tuk’ata I sought to preserve, the notion that the light stems from the sun would mean that as the day goes by, the light beam would diminish and eventually fade as nightfall arrives.

I thoroughly pinpointed the locations of the mirror columns once again and devised a plan to rearrange two of them to ensure their mirrors surface reflects the light onto the gem, as though I was attempting utilize a loophole. Once I concluded with my schematic, I sought to move the column.

The task was not simple, and I had to batter the lower end to ensure its mobility using debris and the Force to aid in such, fortunately time has not aged well for these structures and it was possible to do such. Perhaps it was also due to time that withered the two broken columns, but I digress. It was here the full range of my telekinetic ability is challenged. The column itself was heavy, and the welling of my infuriation and hatred bolstered my capacity to move it.

I am reminded of the old days in Korriban where Overseer Regaine ordered me to lift a blistering pot of charcoal above my head using telekinesis, in his disdain towards me he gradually added more and more until the weight of it was solidly heavy. It took every ounce of my being to maintain such, until I realize his disdain did not end there. A few moments after he told Frelan Drul to encourage me and ‘spark my spirits’ in which I was greeted by the crackles of static lunged towards my body, followed closely by the burning sensation of charcoal against me. But I digress.

The columns were finally arranged in a manner that allowed the light to find its way to the gem. With a resonating hum and a looming sensation of Dark Side influence, the wall opened in its splendor revealing a small area where an ornamental amulet was placed on a pedestal that were adorned with scrolls. From my studies with Sith Alchemy, I could identify the intricate craftsmanship- but moreso the quality of the metal used and the focusing crystal was of superior quality.

I inspected the scrolls and found it to depict diagrams and runic inscriptions. The Krath Cultists are known to have specialized and delved deeply into Sith Sorcery and Alchemy and I suspect this tomb was used to hoard their knowledge of such. I did not have the luxury to fully sate my curiosity as I took the amulet and the scrolls as time was running out.

Eventually I returned to civilization and was able to treat the injury. I placed the Tuk’ata head in a temporary storage until I made it to Drommund Kaas where the possibility of finding an appropriate encasing was significantly higher. Using the funds, I acquired from my encounter with Skraven, I brought a container and preservative reagents in which I eventually carved the brain from the head surgically before storing it in such. The remaining funds I utilized to purchase a black box to place the amulet in with the intention to present it to Lord Sanguinis.

I understood that I could not bring the brain to Th’Asidra, though I remember fortunately I was given my own room at Nedhorroc’s apartment after the incident where his appeal was successful against Alencia’s accusations. I opted to place the container and scrolls hidden there before I returned to Th’Asidra.

There was another time lapse, and my memories did not align. I suspected that Sovereign had taken over hours before as I abruptly found myself walking towards Lord Sanguinis with the black box in my hand, whilst his scrutinizing red gaze hovered over me imposingly.

I panicked.

Within that brief moment I gathered that I was about to present to him the Sith amulet I procured in Korriban. But what made me panic was the fact that there was a blank time inbetween. I dreaded the possibility that Sovereign substituted the contents of the black box and lured me into a trap where I was about to present something entirely different- possibly something that would guarantee Lord Sanguinis’s disdain and displeasure. Yet there was no turning back now, the Lord’s gaze was fixated onto me and if I back down now, that would essentially spell out my defeat.

I gulped as I presented him the black box whilst kneeling down. Sweat was pouring down my face as I could hear my own heartbeat grew ever louder. When he inquired what I had brought him, I opened the box carefully and slowly as it was the moment of truth.

Inside was the Krath’s Sith Amulet, adorned gracefully within its confinement. My heart sank in relief, and it became more reassuring when he inquired more about it with interest. Though our interaction was cut short when the presence of other apprentices entered the halls, one of them stopped in their tracks, evidently curious as to what is transpiring.
It was here where Lord Sanguinis immediately clasped the box shut and took it from my hands. He dismissed me and did not hesitate in leaving the premises immediately away from the others.

It was finally over.

After months of careful preparation, schemes, subterfuge and resourcefulness, I completed Lord Sanguinis’s challenge. Truth be told, I was tempted to keep such an ancient amulet for myself as it would benefit me greatly in the long-term run. To possess an object that could store a considerable amount of Dark Side essence was an edge that would have placed me above my peers.

Though the dilemma arises with what I could have offered to the Sith Lord if I had kept it for myself. Even Apprentices finds difficulty in providing something of substance to a Sith Lord, as it is evident that the resources of the latter are far reaching. A lord has the means to acquire most things apprentices aspires to attain. How much more difficult for an acolyte who has limitations far beyond that of an apprentice with little to no privileges?

Though I am still in the dark as to Lord Sanguinis’s opinion and whether I passed his challenge as our interaction was shortened. For the next passing days I have not heard from him since, there may also be a possibility he has forgotten about the ordeal entirely, yet that would be greatly detrimental after the exhaustive effort I invested in it and the fact that I relinquished an artifact that would have greatly benefited me.

Regardless in a greater context, I am grateful that Lord Sanguinis has provided me such a challenge. Granted I could have followed the examples of fellow acolytes and settled with a gift that is inferior, gifts that would have taken me weeks or days as opposed to months of intricate planning. But I was never one to settle for less. The adversity throughout the journey tempered my resolve, I had the opportunity to utilize a broad range of my Force abilities into real practical scenarios, expanded my network, gained specific items of interest and increased my leverage on different individuals for future plans. 

It reminded me of my childhood where I was constantly forced to the edge of my wit and intelligence to creatively be resourceful in dealing with many situations and challenges as demanded by my father, Lord Nova. I find my heart aching from homesickness, but also a sensation of concern for my sister.

All that remains now is to maintain my position within the generation and uphold the Nova standards of perfectionism. To consolidate the proficiency of my abilities and continue to delve deeper into studies of the alchemical kind. Though the pursuit that consumes me most is one I had been dealing with for all this time.

The pursuit that matters most is to defeat Sovereign.

[Lord Iezkon]

Entry #13 of Horuset Chronicles:Superiority and Ultimatums

***A recollection of one's own position being heightened as an alien in a traditionalist House as well as its implication and consequences, in addition to an update on Apprentice Valkara's escape plan away from Lord Sanguinis ***

Perceptions

Tradition is not the worship of ashes, but the preservation of fire.

As such the House exemplifies ideals that are stone rooted since time immemorial, laws that remains true millenias prior remains true presently. The Sith Purebloods are intertwined with the ancient foundation, and as such the purity they express through their genes is accepted as a form of superiority and right of conquest.

Within a traditionalist House it is natural for the Purebloods to maintain a degree of prestige and superiority. Humans are treated less than Purebloods but are generally accepted. However, for aliens, we suffer the prejudice, discrimination and face scrutiny on a constant basis. These unspoken boundaries and lines are made to establish a hierarchy, one that is based on initial birthright.

I experienced my share of discrimination and heavy-handed scrutiny during my initial months. Verbal insults and sudden punishments were subjected onto me, primarily due to prejudice. Regarding treatment, it was no different from the old days in Korriban. Though gradually I’ve proven myself time and time again.

This sense of resolute commitment to temper one’s skill is embedded deeply within me. Arkania is built upon a meritocracy for millenias, our civilization thrives on one’s worth in terms of quality and excellence. In that regard, there exists a certain similarity between the Sith and Arkanians. In that one’s merit allows ourselves to succeed, and that competition exists intrinsically in our culture. Perhaps it is due to this that I welcome any and all adversity, provided it supports personal development.

The dynamics of relations drastically changed after a series of events, one such was when an assignment tasked by Lord Sanguinis was completed which involved many Apprentices and Acolytes. In due part of my contribution, I received recognition accordingly. I was present within a room alongside with the heir to House Aayu, Utahis- where he was questioned by our superiors regarding his involvement and leadership in said task. After which they questioned regarding my involvement. It seems as though they were already aware of my accomplishments and the answers I provided in regards to strategy, tactics and thoughts on leadership reflected great potential within me- if not outright impressed them.

It was here where Utahis was ordered to be placed under my wing, to further develop and temper himself. The concept and idea itself was unprecedented. While it is natural for a less capable aspirant to be placed under another more capable aspirant, this had social implications that ruptured throughout. As a traditionalist House that prides itself in its prestigious right of blood, a Sith Pureblood is the unspoken dominant race above all others. Aliens such as myself are second handed beings, often treated with prejudice and discrimination. Therefore, it was unprecedented and unheard of for an alien to be in charge of a pureblood, specifically within a traditionalist house.

This did not sit well with many zealous minded Purebloods superiors who believes supremacy lies within their crimson genetic expression, racially patriotic with a severe outlook on purity, as opposed to individual competence and capability. I came under intense scrutiny and occasional torture to remind me of my place by certain individuals, though not all Purebloods shared the same sentiment, there were a number of Purebloods who believed the sanctity of worth regardless of whether I was an alien or not.

I trained rigorously with Utahis, who has shown me to be skillfully adept and well versed in Saber Combat. Admittedly his physical aptitude is superior to mine, due to his genetical advantages and an inherent affinity towards close combat. A certain sense of rivalry dwelled within, as he no doubt would want to return the favor and establish his dominance over me. All for the sake of temperance, it was necessary and openly welcomed.

Training in Isolation

As an Apprentice, Valkara had the authority and rank to order those within the acolyte pool to her whims. On a particular day, she caught both Utahis and I clashing blades and Force abilities with one another before she decided to order us to assist in her training in Drommund Kaas. Within the thick jungles and vast landscape, we were able to creatively use the environment and integrate it within our spars. I sought to train and consolidate advanced force powers such as Force Slow and Force Wound within our fights, while Utahis continued on utilising aggressive sequences of Shii-Cho. After which we would fade our exhaustion away by conversing and the three of us were becoming closer to one another, moreso than we already were.

Observing the two, I found it amusing how one embodies the affinity towards Saber Combat while the other in Force Skills. This dualistic concept paved my thoughts to the deadly combination they could be if fighting together in perfect symphony. Aside from that, Utahis became aware of my mental issues regarding Sovereign. Apparently Valkara trusted him enough to speak about this internal conflict of mine. He was more supportive than I imagined when he confronted me about it, though upon further discourse it was made apparent he was dealing with a similar issue. Though his other side was known as ‘Nuniji’ and was more domineering with bloodthirst akin to those Purebloods of olds.

I could not recall what transpired next, though for the next couple of days I was able to piece together information on what happened during one of those spars. Apparently to my knowledge, my mental stability snapped and I was reduced to a broken droid who’s only protocol was to regurgitate fragmented memories and relive them. In an effort to quell them with some semblance of control, I sought to clear my mind at the waterfall.

What occurred during this blank period of my memory lead Utahis to be nearly drowned, and from the inability to respond to an urgent Holocall, caused Lord Kalkoran to threaten dismantling his ancestral blade. When he was able to answer the public comms, the Sith Lord had already decided and ended his transmission whilst Alencia continued to taunt over the frequency.

The entire experience enraged the Pureblood, as his emotions started seeping through our training eventually showing the more vicious and ferocious side of him. Often it lead me to be on the receiving end, with blood streaming out of my body. Something changed within him as he became more focused and determined in his methods, something Valkara had noted as well. As though the more amicable and friendly disposition turned grimmer and detached from the world.

Valkara’s plan to escape the clutches of Lord Sanguinis remains evident, and I delved deeper into formulating alternative plans for her to leave the powerbase. She had this form of bond with her former Jedi master Atreus Eetu and have been attempting to establish contact with him. I’ve made efforts in covering our tracks and minimized any indication of her intentions in escaping, throughout this time I was propelled by an inherent desire to ‘save’ her.

Perhaps it was due to a certain similarity in our situations. I’ve longed to escape the strings of my father, and so I understood what freedom meant for her. Whereas my freedom lies in the path of the Sith, hers was to return to the path of the Jedi. Or maybe I’ve grown to care for her, perhaps not in the same way as Utahis- who seemed to have a certain fixation towards her.

Yet these recent days of hardship had changed him drastically, and his misguided attempt to help her only caused more strife. Under the pressure of our superiors who has major expectations of him, he became more focused in his desire to become Sith, even to the point of casting Valkara aside and willing to strike her down to appease our betters. At this point, the only one that she could rely on was myself and that placed a heavy burden on me. But I was more concerned with the way events unfolded and how the dynamics of our relationship between the three of us changed detrimentally.

Somehow, I have a strange feeling we were lead to this outcome.

Ultimatums

Ever since Utahis trudged on to consolidate his worth to our pureblood superiors such as Apprentice Zhephra, Lord Saud and Lord Kalkoran, I was the only one that Valkara could rely on. We began detailing the plans in the waterfall area that became our training ground In Drommund Kaas. It became our sanctuary of sorts, for us to be able to converse in complete candor and honesty without having to fear the repercussions of the Sith, especially concerning a Sith Apprentice who intends to escape to become a Jedi. That has heresy marked all over it.

We were occupied by idle chatter and enjoying ourselves to the scenery that our lush environment offered until a brooding sensation crept over me. Gradually the ominous feeling grew and grew as it started weighing heavily from the mind then to my body, as though my willpower to even stand became an issue. My heart was racing as I didn’t know what was happening at first, until a presence made itself known that brought a familiar sense of dread.

It was Lord Sanguinis.

It was here that the master and the apprentice engaged in intense dialogue. Lord Sanguinis continued chastising her for her weakness to cling unto the light and regaled how she should accept the dark side. Emotions ran high, and each word gradually became more venomous as the former Jedi began raising her voice in retaliation to the Lord’s domineering words. He voiced his demand for Valkara to play part in ambushing her former Jedi master Atreus Eetu, but she was vehemently refusing the role.

A few moments after Lord Sanguinis fixated his attention to me, keeping me down with an intangible grip of the Force. He mused to himself on what he should do with me. But the considerations he spoke of etched a grim revelation.

He mused on how I aided in providing intel to him…regarding the entirety of Valkara’s plans.

My heart sank twice its length. As memories started unveiling itself in painful epiphany. Those blank moments and periods in time, where I could not recollect anything, Sovereign had taken over and has been productive in instigating plans to ruin Valkara. The missing hours between the Krath Temple and delivering Lord Sanguinis with the amulet was used to inform him of this critical intel. I was misled to believe that the meeting I had with the lord was the only time, as it would not be logical to approach him twice on the same day to deliver him information and give him the amulet on two separate occasions.

I realized the true obstacle to her escape was not an external force. But one that was internal. Deep within me. I caused all of this. It was foolish of me to not consider the possibility. I was no different from an undercover spy, or more appropriately a sleeper agent to orchestrate her downfall. I felt the cracking of my emotions and felt Sovereign’s clutches wrapping his dark tendrils over my mind. I was overcome by guilt. The way she looked at me when she realized I was responsible for all of this. I cannot begin to describe how agonizing it was. While Lord Sanguinis seemed pleased with me, Valkara on the other hand was conflicted.

I tried to raise my mental defenses, to reawake my willpower. The lord’s presence of subjugation was overwhelming and the initial attempts to stand from my undignified position resulted only in failure. I continued to surge forth with all my frustrations, self-loathing and my hatred for being unable to prevent all of this from happening. This was all my fault. I was too weak to prevent it. Too feeble to control these events. A flash of my father’s disapproving infernal eyes blazed through traumatizing memory lanes.

I never felt more disgusted nor abhorrent towards myself, to be the one responsible to deprive her of her possible freedom- Something I wished no one else should ever experience, it tore me apart in ways words could never explain.

Something within me aligned itself amidst all the abyssal emotions. And with it I found myself no longer on the ground, but haphazardly standing as though a force of gravity still anchored onto me. For the majority of it, I subconsciously utilized what I know of anatomy to prop myself up. The pressure remained evident, as shown with my rather broken posture with legs awkwardly apart and knees bent to support the lack of willpower flowing through it.

“Unexpected.”

Lord Sanguinis mused as he observed with hawk-like eyes, watching as I gradually risen from the undignified position, attempting to resist through mental defenses, the intangible grasp that afflicts me. As I was shivering and trembling before him, he took a moment of silence. But the pause broke as he extended his right hand into a decisive crushing motion.

I felt my knee completely ruptured. As though it was a pillar holding up a stone foundation being blasted and demolished with not an ounce of single mercy, through demolitions of intangible force. There was no end to my screams of agony, no end to the excruciating tears from the painful nerve response.

Valkara was visibly distraught and glistening with tears when it happened, something that Lord Sanguinis noticed. As though he saw an opportunity, he leveraged my life against her former master’s. He gave her a dark ultimatum.

To save my life. Or to save her former master.

Emotions came like tidal waves as the conflict within herself became visibly shown in distressed fervor. Until she finally came to her conclusion. She chose to save me. After a few final words, Lord Sanguinis departed, leaving the both of us to our devices. Valkara supported me through the jungles until we eventually reached the medbay.

A few days later as I was recovering in Th’Asidra’s medbay. It reminded me of my initial months in the powerbase, where the medical bay was my unspoken dormitory due to the amount of injuries I constantly sustained. I was visited by Valkara who wanted to see how I was doing. But more stringent matters consumed my mind than my own wellbeing. I told her that we can never meet again, that I needed to maintain my distance away from her.

She was not expecting this and started questioning me why. I regaled on how I unknowingly caused her plans to be revealed to Lord Sanguinis, that perhaps through me Sovereign will continue to feed off intel on the plans. There was still a possibility to construct a new plan, one that not even the Sith Lord knows, there exists the means to escape but she has to plan it without me. As much as she protested that it was not my fault, I vehemently disagreed and allowed my decision to stand.

I remember it clearly as though it was only yesterday. Her expression was that of isolation, regret and sadness. Without another spoken word she reluctantly backed away, and as she did the gut wrenching feeling stirs within my heart. After a final telepathic message to her, she responded with her own before leaving me to the cubicle of my own isolation.

I was a liability and too much of a volatile factor. Sovereign’s influence broke through multiple chains as a result of what unfolded, the chess game that we were playing has matured from its infancy stage and nearing its end. This fractured heart needs to be mended before it is broken and shattered.

Though my thoughts bleeds for Valkara. There was no one else to aid her in her endeavor. Moreso her emotions are compromised than ever before. She’s completely and utterly alone with only torment as her companion.

One of the strongest fear I have is for someone I care about to suffer the same traumatic experience that lead to the fracturing of my heart in Korriban. To be utterly devoid of hope, unrelenting despair and reduced to nothingness. It is a severely traumatizing experience that I wish would never happen to someone close to me.

This separation must happen to prevent such from ever occurring.

As much as my heart aches...

…It had to be done.

[Lord Iezkon]

Entry #14 of Horuset Chronicles:
Eternal Rivalry

***A detailed experience regarding a confrontation between Morgus Gra'kahn and Sovernus Nova in Korriban.***

Reunion

Rivalry of strength advances power.

An old proverb purported to be said by my ancestor, Lord Kravig Nova “The Militant”. During an age of conflict and strife, he commanded fleets in border skirmishes and territorial conflicts with an iron grip. His views were diverging from his contemporaries, whereas those of us often held disdain and outright scorn for our enemies- in part due to our inherent genetic superiority, he respected his opposition for playing a part in strengthening the military by subjecting us through adversity.

Some believed him mad. Others admire his pragmatism. For me, he had a greater understanding in something people often overlook. And one of the few men that truly committed and applied his worldview into practice. Alas I digress in speaking what I initially intended.

Amidst the turmoil that plagued my days, I was reminded of an anticipated confrontation with an old foe underneath the statue of the Master of Gathering Darkness in Korriban. As such I intended to follow my ancestor’s path, and readily embrace the adversity that is upon me.

Truthfully the recovery of my broken body was not yet completed. Much more so the emotional and mental backlash I had to sustain in the last few weeks. In addition to even more stress my body accumulated whilst still confined to the bed. Apparently, I was strangled and nearly choked to death by Valkara during the blackouts I experience… It seems Sovereign brought her contemptuous side out from within, as no doubt with merely verbal wit he has made progress in engineering her descent into darkness.

Whilst my neck feels uncomfortably sore from the aftermath of whatever transpired, I was more concerned with the fact that she disregarded the distance needed to be maintained between us. Had she listened to me, she would not have been emotionally driven to act uncharacteristically of her.

Damn it all...Why won’t she listen to me for once? The risk involved- it’s completely and utterly irrational. Does she not care about herself?

…

I should not be one to talk. Much less diverge from the topic at hand.

Despite the incomplete recovery of the injury that Lord Sanguinis inflicted upon me, I was compelled to travel to Korriban even if I had to drag my worthless self there. Against an individual I vehemently fear and respect, I could not disappoint him any longer.

Under the ravenous gaze of the sun, I approached the ancient statue of the revered Tulak Hord. The dust and withering sands were obscuring my vision yet a familiar sense of dread overcame me, accompanied by a terrifying figure cladded in obsidian armour with void-like robes. Upon focusing these cloudy pupils at him, I was greeted by an infernal stare of destitute beyond the terror inducing mask he wore. One that utterly evoked a sensation of freezing chill sliding down my spine.

Morgus Gra'kahn.

His presence alone radiated in unison to the dark taint of the landscape. I have encountered many Sith that compels fear within me, yet a gnawing sensation of creeping terror was more prevalent in him than others. Though it was exceptionally unnatural than ever before.

Adrift fracturing memories, an amalgamation of terror resurfaced. Sweat drenched my cheeks in cold fervor, an underlying terror screaming in rippling vibrations caused my fingers to curl into a forceful fist- with nails desperately digging into my shivering palm.

This was true fear.

“Sovernus…”

“…My lord.”

From that brief exchange he narrowed those tainted eyes with disapproval- if not outright disappointment. Addressing him properly was formality, but it outlined the difference in our position and authority. As though the Arkanian he was waiting for was supposed to be a rival of respectable power, yet the memory of the aspirant that defeated him long ago was tarnished in place of a stagnant weakling that stood before him.

Without uttering another word, he allowed his actions to speak for him. A potent Force Wave blasted with contemptuous magnitude drove my physique into the dirt. Before I could recover, he immediately unsheathes an obsidian hilt from his belt, extending it to his side as though it were wings of annihilation. A crimson red beam of light projected to the side, carrying with it a sensation of imminent death.

A baleful gale adorned our battlefield, Morgus was taking decisive steps one after the other. He was exemplifying his dreadnought presence, neither hurrying nor slowing down- merely walking towards me. Yet by doing so, he commanded an image of an indestructible juggernaut, who will destroy anything in his path.

My body could not react, it was a tinge of underlying fear that consumed me and before I realized it, I was plunged deep into the traumatizing memories of being subjected to his ruthless cruelty. In that split moment I realized the frailty of my convictions and the desolate state of my resolve. For in the past I charged forward with zeal against this dreadful behemoth without hesitation. While others were consumed by their cowardice just by the mere mention of his name, I was unwavering in my desire to protect the one I loved.

…Protect.

I was fighting for something greater than myself in the past. Love overwhelmed my rationality and prevailed in driving forth this vessel, to place my life on the line if only to save hers. I had accepted the notion of death if only to keep it at bay- to safeguard her from being claimed by it.

I’ve lost her now. I became half the man I was- or not even a sliver of it. A mere hollow shell of my former self. There was no end to the self-inflicting loathing that became the perpetual thoughts that plagued me. Yet if I had nothing to fight for, I would lose the only thing I have now. My life.

Clenching the hilt of my training blade, fear quaked throughout my shivering palms. Before I could anchor my stance down, Morgus swung his crimson lightsaber downwards in a vertical arc- one that would have escorted me to the afterlife. I barely glanced it and changed its trajectory enough to stall my end, yet the fearsome strength behind it nearly caused me to drop my own blade.

I scrambled upwards up a sandy dune, the desperation would be visible by now exemplifying that it was less of a duel than it was survival situation. Above the sandy elevation, I immediately dispersed the sands downwards through Force Push, whether it succeeds in blinding or obscuring his vision it matters not- it served as a distraction nonetheless. I predicted that due to his innate nature he would scatter the veil through another use of Force Wave and thus I concentrated on creating a focused barrier whilst readying myself to lunge forth.

Soon enough he did what I anticipated, and I leaped above to avoid the telekinetic projection due to my high ground- yet the potent wave shattered my barrier regardless due to its ambient projection. I miscalculated in its raw power and found myself thrown a fair distance to the side. Yet I charged forth nonetheless aiming to perform a Sun Djem on his weapon hand, but the transition of his sequence was seamless and immediately after he launched the telekinetic wave he soon followed it with a horizontal parry that rippled with vigorous fortitude, enough to compel the blade to fly away from my hand.

Retreating, I sought to utilize environmental advantages and noted the broken pillar behind me. Digging deeper into my hatred and self-loathing I broke the lower end of the pillar through telekinetic rage as it toppled downwards. A split second later I would commit to dodging by means of rolling as I hear the pillar crashing down on where I last saw Morgus.

He would not have died simply due to that. I did not wait for the dust to settle as I Force Pulled my training blade to my hand, I immediately went behind a cover behind a stone debris and casted my blade with Force Push towards where he was. A split second afterwards I would utilize the built up anger and surge forth a Force Shock to overload the battery, and soon enough the metal exploded in shrapnel.

There was a furious scream that echoed within the scattering dusts, one that rang heavily in my ears and caused myself to involuntarily cover my ears. Soon after Morgus launched a telekinetic blast outwards to destroy the debris I was hiding behind. I flailed backwards, unable to defend against it, coughing vehemently as I stood up shaking.

Like an unstoppable juggernaut fueled by endless fury, he emerged from the scattered dusts as though unwavering from being subjected to pain. He was evidently injured from the pillar and shrapnel, yet his demeanour and act of simply trudging forward with his crimson lightsaber in hand showed nothing of him being affected at all. There was a tempered anger in his eyes, something that allowed him to control the pain.

With a swift movement of his wrist, a Force Grip was conjured which paralysed the autonomy of most of my movement. Dangling in the air, he smashed me downwards before him. With a titantic grasp clasping around my neck he brought me closer to the fear inducing expression of his mask.

“Bring. Him. Out.”

A sudden jolt ran through my spine. The fear compounded in agonizing symphony, as though a knife gutted me and twisted ever slowly if only to seek pleasure of the terror I was experiencing. I stared helplessly into his volcanic eyes and questioned him how he knows about Sovereign. He dismissed the name, stating that he knows nothing of it. But he understood that there was another side of me. One that was unrelentingly ruthless and had an unbendable will comparable to the undying stars. One that was worthy to be called his rival.

He spoke commandingly that I have ten seconds to break out of my helpless shell and become the Sith I ‘was meant to be’. He had already begun counting, and it was nearing five seconds as he was staring with intense scrutiny into my eyes as though he was waiting for something that was completely diverging from the fear that it reflects.

“Five…”

I struggled as hard as I could from his vicious grip. His grip was tightening and the searing sensation clogged my throat, I could feel his palm imprinting a bruise on my neck. No amount of words could describe the level of panic-

“Four…”

I wailed in excruciating pain. Death was approaching with each tightening motion of his clasp. Attempting to free from his grip was as daunting as splitting a mountain in two, each attempt of wrenching his hand apart was only met with futility.

“Three…”

I took breathing for granted… What was once something I was never truly conscious of, was now the sole fixation of my existence. I felt the throbbing in my eyes, as tears started streaming out in agonizing symphony.

“Two…”

There was that memory again.

The dream I had flashed before me. I was in a serene environment, walking through fields of tranquility wearing the trappings of a Jedi. There was peace to be found in my surroundings… Something that soothed me as I watched others in the garden. There was that right touch of smile painted on my face, as though I was in perfect harmony with the life I had chosen.

Did I walk the wrong path?

I only ever told Valkara of this dream when we were together in the waterfall, planning her escape to return to her Jedi Master. She thought that it was a sign that I was destined to become like her. A Jedi. I dismissed it as a strange dream, but she believed it was a vision…

…She wanted me to come with her.

In truth…. I never thought I would want something so badly in my life… but I did not want to admit it. I told her she should worry about herself first and focus on escaping. When she wanted to protest, I interjected and said that she should only worry about me once she was safe- and not anytime sooner. She begrudgingly accepted but promised that she would come back for me one day.

Perhaps in another life things would have been different.

“One…”

Each successive punch was as brutal as the next as blood spluttered out of my mouth. Coughing is too mild of a word, as I felt I was spilling out my guts. I was in between gasping for air but also choking at my own blood, the suffocation was excruciatingly painful.

Without uttering another word, Morgus lingered in his silence gazing at the failure I had become. He soon departed, leaving behind a remnant of his past, disappointed in how it all ended. I slumped against the withering sands underneath the devouring gaze of the sun. Crimson sands outlined my figure as I felt life ebbing away from me.

My consciousness was fading, the embrace of death was far more soothing than I imagined. Each breath I exhale were fragments of my soul, flowing gently away into the afterlife. I took what I felt were my final moments into heart and contemplated over the fact that it had to end.

Yet something deep within the recesses of my mind clung to life. The engines of my heart started to beat once more. A sudden exhilaration filled me with both terror and adrenaline. My consciousness was fading, but no longer was it slipping away into an obscure void- it was embracing abyssal emotions that were indescribable in its hatred and fury.

That was when I realized. Sovereign was not yet done with me.

[Lord Iezkon]

Entry #15 of Horuset Chronicles:
Defeat and Disappointment

***A detailed experience regarding the confrontation between Utahis Aayu and Sovernus Nova, in addition to the latter's view regarding the ordeals of the duels.***

Defeat

A wretched fate is to have absent enemies.

An age-old wisdom purported to be spoken by another ancestor of mine, Lord Govarain Nova “The Unassailable”. If one were to be bereft of antagonistic relations that are often found in rivals or enemies, it is believed that fortune has left you. People often throw stones only at trees with fruits on them. Afterall, those who possesses strength are drawn into conflict to those of worth.

As the successor to the renowned Arkanian who earned the epithet “The Militant”, it was of inconsequential surprise that his son would inherit the stoic philosophy of temperance. This flourished throughout for many generations and has kept my family’s legacy relatively untarnished for the majority of history.

In that regard, those who I share this innate sense of rivalry are those of exceptional quality and worth. One such individual mirrors a legacy that carries itself with prestige akin to my own and many others within the powerbase. Yet he was one of the few that could attest and align to the philosophy of his ancestors.

The heir to House Aayu presents himself with a vibrant crimson pigment that illustrates millenias worth of purity, and expresses a genetical expression of physical aptitude that aligns to the strength of the Purebloods of old. Utahis boasts a stark contrast of proficiency to mine, whereas I am drawn to the more mental and metaphysical aspects of the Force- he was greatly attuned to physical manifestations of its source, often exemplifying a prodigious mind in saber combat.

It seemed almost fated that we were to clash once more under the gaze of his ancestors in Korriban. Lord Sanguinis announced all acolytes to participate in the powerbase’s tradition of the ‘Acolyte Brawl’ that has been scheduled in each cycle between generations.

Yet upon arrival, it became apparent that the only ones present were the heirs to House Aayu and House Nova respectively, both legacies exemplifying purity in cultures that lasted since time immemorial. The question regarding the absence of other acolytes tugged a string in my restless mind, as I have never heard of the powerbase’s traditional event to only consist of two aspirants. It was almost less agreeable to label it as a ‘brawl’.

Perhaps the very presence of Utahis and I discouraged others to participate, as though our reputation of proficiency and command of the Force would dishearten those who thought they had a chance at victory. The possibility also arises with preoccupation with studies or tasks, yet this cannot be applied to all aspirants as it seemed improbable that -all- of them would coincidentally be absent. Regardless, the fact of the matter remains that no matter the numbers, we all shall strive for victory.

The particular event attracted the attention of many Sith, ranging from those of high stature of power to those who were aspiring to become lords themselves. Lord Sanguinis glared behind his beast-mawlike mask and spoke that who shall ever prove themselves victorious- are allowed one question to ask of him. Should it prove to be an amusing or worthy inquiry, he would comply in answering it.

Immediately I knew what question I would inquire of him. Through fragments of information that I pieced together, I was made aware of the existence of a holocron that was buried by Lord Kalkoran and Lord Sanguinis when they were once aspirants of the Dark Side. I mentioned this discovery in a prior entry of my memoir, and reserved it aside until the opportunity arises which unfolded in the form of chance at gaining the information from the Lord himself. No doubt it would raises his curiosity as to how I was able to know, which would prove itself to be an inquiry worthy of his attention.

Admittedly, my condition proved itself to be disadvantageous to confront someone of Utahis’s caliber. The recovery from the Force Crush by Lord Sanguinis was not fully realized, in part due to another successive round of critical injuries subjected to me by Morgus Grakan. Underneath the veils of my obsidian robes, I struggled to maintain a dignified exterior despite the accumulation of damage done to my body. A life of a Sith is one that does not allow one to delve into the leniency of comfort. There is no luxury of rest in the battlefield. Struggles and hardships were always prevalent and I had to add to the experience of forcing my vessel to fight in spite of the injuries and pain.

There was an emotional hurricane welling inside of me when Utahis glared with his infernal stare as he unsheathes his saber. Our relation has deteriorated over time when he decided to turn his back on Valkara and I. Moreso the fact that he had casted her aside and would not hesitate to strike her down fueled an utter hatred within myself. The glare I aimed at him was one of animosity, as he would no doubt understand the reasons that compelled my hatred. For someone I entrusted to protect her to break his promise, no amount of words could describe my infuriation. The unsheathing motion of my blade carried itself with an imminent sensation of hunger for his demise.

The exchange was brutal.

Our blades engaged in destructive fervor as the collision of our stances echoed throughout the stone platform beneath us. The strength behind his swings were unrelentingly powerful, yet carried itself seamlessly into sequences that could only be done by those who has devoted their lives into the art of combat. Even if I was without injuries and in my optimal physical condition, I would not be at all confident to meet his swordplay directly.

Each successive flow of his sequences led to the breaking of my balance, yet I was competent enough to delay the loss of footing. Not wanting to wait for the eventual demise of my stability, I flowed throughout with telekinetic repulses in the form of Force Push and brought the unrelenting hatred to manifest electrical currents that caused the Pureblood to experience painful agony. The pain itself circulated throughout his physical body, as he was channeling it through into his swordplay- which reveals itself in aggressive techniques of damnation. Despite the initial shift of the tides of combat, he unwaveringly adapted from his temporary losses before concluding with a decisive blow that broke through the defense I projected.

The accumulation of damages caught up to me and I knew the moment the hilt of my saber separated itself from my grasp, only painful torrents of injuries awaited me. There was that light reflected behind Utahis’s infernal gaze when he wrested my weapon away from me. One that projected a fearsome aura as though the souls of his ancestors enveloped his being. With a powerful blow, my body fell backwards against the hard-stoned platform.

An unsettling crack made itself audible.

The fractured ribcage caused a sudden shock that trembled out into my shaking hands. Unleashing augmented impacts onto my body, Utahis kneeled down to exact thrashes that rippled with unnatural strength. Blood spluttered out in scarlet and crimson ooze, as my consciousness wavered. Brutal was not a word that can fully encapsulate the dreadful thrashes, gripping against the collar of my robes he releases hardened impacts onto my face.

“Forgive me...”

Those words echoed out at the edge of my subconscious. The impression of which seemed to originate from the Pureblood, spoken with a lingering sensation of regret and sorrow. I could not tell whether it was my imagination or not, as the threads of my consciousness was slipping… But rest assured, even if I was not mistaken…

…I will never forgive you.

Disappointment

The old days returned in full vigour.

Unexpectedly I was brought into questioning and interrogations by a number of Sith. In spite of an additional round of injuries that were sustained in Korriban. This did little to dissuade others from conducting agonizing treatments of the inquisitorial nature. It became less of an interrogation than it was a torture session that only benefitted to satisfy the sadistic need of my tormenter.

It grieved me more knowing that one of the interrogators was under some innate assumption that Utahis and I were in an amicable disposition- of the friendship type of variety. My surprise is absent when it came to my attention that one of them who assumed such was Apprentice Zhephra. As though it was their duty to purge any form of lasting bonds that were apparently unfounded in the Sith.

Another torturer showed a primitive display of coercion that proved less effective to someone that has been tortured incessantly throughout their whole lives. This particular one had no goal in mind nor readjusting what they assumed to be a weakness on my part, merely sadistically torturing me for their pleasure. Yet I am more drawn to the failures of their baseless speculations, which reminds me of how utterly incapable certain Sith are in terms of information gathering or in well-founded judgement.

This followed with another Pureblood that held the Horuset name. Apprentice Vaenra summoned my presence to meet her in the Spire. After relentless days of constant torture, it was almost anticipated that she would join in on the pleasantries despite being the last of the party. Yet instead of torture she decided to speak regarding the views I have on Utahis. Despite answering in a matter of factly way, she was nonetheless blinded by the same assumption that many grew accustomed to.

She inquired whether vengeance was within my intentions, as though assuming I had nothing planned for Utahis. I reiterated that such orchestration of his demise is already in motion, yet she called me weak and uncommitted. Weakness I can accept, I am under no false delusion that I am without it. Yet to brazenly call me uncommitted was an affront that I will not accept from anyone.

This sense of being indignant was replaced with one of disappointment when she bluntly asked of my plans. That action alone cemented the limits of her worth in my mind. I reiterated that subterfuge entails deception to be concealed at all corners, indirectly informing her that she will have to endure without knowing. She waved dismissively for me to leave soon after without saying another word.

Several acolytes have found their way into the House, and admittedly I’ve grown weary seeing the same expressions that held no true resolve, nor possessing that certain darkness reflected behind their eyes to show that they had endured through true untainted adversity. It dissatisfied me more knowing that these features were absent in the new Purebloods. Truly the purity of the Sith has diluted severely over millenias.

Valqine of House Vorath was a notable addition to the powerbase, in part due to his advanced diction and prideful flair, it reminded me of many Arkanians who found themselves submerged in the wealth of their status. Upon closer examination, he was intellectually attuned with a hint of calculative flair, yet it was layered by an obscene pride that bordered arrogance. A subconscious tick of his boastful demeanor would no doubt garner many enemies. Indeed, his need to exemplify his accomplishments and achievements brought a modicum of doubt to many. Though perhaps it was his goal to show his worth and value, as misguided as it is.

Within seconds I realized he was a schemer, with a silver tongue that suited most politicians. In that respect, diplomacy and politics is something I am certain he may excel in. His potential as an ally cannot be denied, though to be an effective one he would need to shed the mantle of his pride- or perhaps more specifically, be able to conceal such. I was drawn to the prospect of gauging the parameters of his reliability, or as others would be more obliged to label as his degree of trustworthiness. No doubt the way he carries himself would dissuade many to feel a sense of security in an alliance with him.

Leaving the archives after a discussion with Valqine, the metal doors opened into a view of Lord Sanguinis who was approaching steadily towards me. As with his signature coldly tainted demeanor he spoke words that compelled a degree of affirmation.

“You have two days to utterly defeat Acolyte Utahis. How you choose to do so is up to you, but it must be public.”

Immediately the engines of my heart started beating in resentful fervor. Yet the time limit of two days was daunting as it is but moreso for it to be a public display conflicted with the nature of my attunement to be concealed within the veils of obscurity. This would hold implications that may complicate how I conduct my methods, but an order is an order and I must deliver it to the letter.

“…And you must -ridicule- him.”

Defeating him was not enough, I had to conduct a method of humiliation that would forgo the conventional status of disgrace. In all considerations, losing in a particular duel would not guarantee nor equate to shame being brought to the defeated. One must leave a lasting imprint to designate the defeater’s position of shame, and thus a scar would adequately suffice.

Despite having a clear vision of what I was required to do, I was under no delusion that this was a simple task. Someone of Utahis’s caliber would require hours of analysis and research into his stances. Fortunately, he has shared a modicum of his techniques on the Acolyte Archives, something not many are taking advantage of. In conjunction with the experience of training with him, I was able to create multiple simulations within the vastness of my mind as well as leave a degree of space for the unforeseen techniques that he had kept hidden. Contingencies and preparedness dominated my mind.

Yet the plan was utterly compromised when an unexpected incident occurred. During one of the operations to capture beasts for the House, we were converging to their native biosphere. It was here Utahis suggested that the ‘alien’ be used as bait, but as per karma dictates, he was instead ordered forth by Apprentice Cerberus. Granted it was a reasonable decision, since Utahis is the most physically capable out of all of us, it would stand to reason he would be able to withstand their onslaught and even avoid any fatal injuries.

When he drew their attention, he immediately ran towards the rest of the group. Though as he did, his dominant leg was brought further than his bodily anatomy would allow, as though a Force Pull snatched him. Amidst all of the telekinetic abilities, no doubt the perpetrator was amongst us. Though I was able to narrow down to who it was most likely. Regardless, it lead to Utahis being viciously maimed by the beasts which complicates my plans.

The injuries would direct his mind to seek recovery and thus rationally it would discourage him to accept a challenge from me. This proves to be problematic as I only have two days to complete Lord Sanguinis’s challenge, and should he exempt himself from any duel I issue to him, that would mean I failed. Thus, I would have to adapt to the current situation and readjust my tactic and approach.

If Lord Sanguinis wanted it to be a public spectacle. He will have it.

“Acolyte Utahis, I’ve grown weary of your existence as a thorn of ruination. It is time to end this warped fabrication of yours. I shall await in Korriban where we last confronted each other. By all means you are free to refuse my invitation.”

This was a nerve-wracking gamble. 

The announcement was made over the House’s public holofrequency. It was the last day of the deadline and I had to do an 'all or nothing' gambit. The words were crafted with the insinuation that should he refuse, it would reflect poorly on him. Though he had many options to utterly demolish me through verbal wit on this stage. He could have refused the challenge and deem me unworthy to even be considered a viable opponent, or to lean against the reason that he was critically injured and would fight me at a later time. Either option would have completely undone me.

Yet naturally I appealed to his inner egoistical nature. And as expected, he gave into his pride and accepted my challenge. It irked me severely how he would make his injuries known by announcing everyone of his state. As though if he won, it would bring his victory more value. And if he had lost then it was a given. But even more frustrating was the fact that he brought his crutch with him all the way to Korriban underneath the gaze of his ancestors.

I would not regale the details of the fight. It brought me no pleasure nor satisfaction in having to break down someone who is not in their optimal state. The thought drifted into my mind whether he had the same thought during our last confrontation, yet unlike him I strived to remain dignified on sacred soil and did not lean on the cumulative injuries I sustained as an excuse.

Eventually I brought him down, and after defeating him I was to ridicule him further and place the mark on his face. Something that will leave a lasting impression moreso than a mere defeat, as duels between acolytes numbers in thousands and such a lowly duel is as meaningless as the next in the eyes of those who possesses true power. Not a single moment after I started imprinting on his lower jaw, I was immediately thrown by Apprentice Tashha who was under the impression that this was an act of baseless pride. I earned the contempt of a number of Purebloods within the House who saw this as an attack to the Sith’s position of prestige. Moreso, some labelled me as dishonorable in dueling against someone who is injured. The hypocrisy is staggering, as when I was far more grievously injured and forced to fight- they all sat on their tongues.

Even Lord Saud taunted and flourished her telepathy, echoing in thunderous murmurs stating that my ‘pride’ will be my downfall. As if the entire purpose of this entire duel is to satisfy some pseudo delusional egocentric chauvinism within myself, as if I would ever stoop down to that ridiculous level. If she wanted to chastise regarding pride, then it should be on Utahis who had every chance in the galaxy to refuse my challenge.

I always conduct myself with a rational and pragmatic notion in mind. One that is dictated by an unwavering obligation and awareness to the Sith. I did not deny Lord Sanguinis’s orders, nor would Utahis’s condition dissuade me from completing my task. I did what was required of me, in the matter that fulfills all its objectives and delivered it within the deadline. In that regard, let them hate me for their perceived judgement.

Even if it means crushing one’s own self-satisfaction or some innate sense of honor. We must enforce those orders with every fibre of our body. Ruthlessly and effectively.

If we are unwilling to do what is required. We risk the mandate of what we strive to preserve.

…Truly words cannot describe the depth of my disappointment.

[Lord Iezkon]

Entry #16 of Horuset Chronicles:Contradictions and Farewell

***A detailed recount with in depth thought process by Sovernus in terms of evaluating the ordeal with Nobrcer's duel and Valqine's proposition.In addition to a detailed experience regarding Valkara's escape from the powerbase.***

Contradictions

Act as mortals in all that you fear, and like immortals in all that you desire.

An age-old wisdom purported to be spoken by another ancestor of mine, Lord Aganor Nova “The Vindictive”. An Arkanian of unstoppable resolute in the face of outnumbering adversity, he inherited the landscape of war from his predecessor. The failures of the Arkanian Dominion’s military to address the border conflict became the testing ground for his willpower, for many would have drowned in the ocean of despair when realizing the difference in comparative battle forces.

Against severe statistical odds, he mounted and executed three stratagems that became known as the “Novarian Offensives” that secured a decisive victory and shocking conclusion to the neighbouring wars. While history often praised his ingenuity and lauded him as a war hero, they neglected how wrongfully treated he was throughout his early days, to save a measure of face for the Arkanian Dominon.

As the second officially recorded patriarch of my legacy, the Nova name did not carry the immeasurable weight during the ancient period as it does in the modern era. Thus, he became the object of scrutiny due to controversies of his willingness to engage in the border conflicts and retaliate in full force. Whereas his peers were driven by inaction and dismissed him as a warmonger who has no place in an ‘intellectual society’.

They branded him an outcast, a degenerate, a test tube failure - which in a society that prizes itself in its genetical purity was one of the lowest insult one can say to an Arkanian.

Being driven to the edge of sustaining successive losses in multiple colonies, the Arkanian Dominion was at a lost for words. They had the utmost intellectual minds of the galaxy, the greatest scientists that the universe could offer- but they were missing the one crucial element. They were missing a militant. One who would embody their vengeance for these transgressions.

Allow the history books to regale how my ancestor went on an unrelenting crusade in greater details. I will only tell you that he prevailed. Rose to prominence. Became a paragon to our people. The ashes of his scorned enemies became the foundation of what we are today. And those that once belittled him on their velvet cushions ultimately revered and respected him.

Recognition often holds the highest value when it comes from those who scorned you.

My thoughts drifts onto my ancestor’s wisdom due to the circumstances I find myself in. I immersed in my fears, to understand the gravity and severity of situations- to accept the reality of my weakness and allow that essential dread to incentivize the rigorous effort I painstakingly made.

I committed to my desires to surmount the obstacles that were subjected upon me. Thoroughly broken, beaten, tortured, undermined, discriminated, betrayed and shattered. Each adversity I’ve conquered through has in so far led me to the one essential truth.

That despite the unwavering odds…

I am still here.

However, the same could not be said to a number of my peers. For many acolytes has disappeared into obscurity or has fallen prey to the machinations of others. Or to mine to be begrudgingly honest.

Regardless it was of no surprise that others have taken more direct approaches in undermining their competitors. Valqine of House Vorath and Nobrcer of House… Dolt? - decided they would cement their ‘rising’ to the prominent pedestals of the higher echelons of the acolyte pool by defeating who they assume to be a renowned acolyte.

Alencia…

The same Alencia who was telekinetically blown off by Lord Kalkoran for her flagrant incompetence. The same one who lost the privilege of possessing a left arm that was taken by Lord Sanguinis. The same that was scorned by many of her peers as a pathetic wretch.

My mind traces off to the reasons that might warrant her to be targeted by these two. Understandingly the Twi’lek’s mental capacity is…under-developed so it was possible that he was under some delusion that she was an acolyte of good reputation. His partner however, was discernably more intellectually attuned so I considered there was a deeper intrigue behind all of this.

Nevertheless, the two chose to adopt the same method of approach I was forced to conduct with Utahis- calling her out publicly through the official holocom. Though it was evident this was more of a show when Nobrcer had to scrounge up every inch of his brain cells to conjure up a cheap carnival pitch over the frequency.

It became an obnoxious banter between the Twi’lek and the red-hair. I was about to utterly chastise the both of them for clogging official frequencies unnecessarily, until Lord Kalkoran ordered Alencia to accept Nobrcer’s challenge, which ended the argument in a heartbeat.

I was welcomed with a sight of a crowd that had gathered. Nobrcer situated himself in the centre of the training pit as Valqine lurked to the side. The fact that he was already within the parameters of combat instantly confirmed to my mind that he would aid his partner when least expected. Alencia entered soon after and decided to start the whole show with her signature insults, but she was attentive to note Valqine’s presence and requested Uldrinn to step in should the former decide to cunningly intervene in the fight. Uldrinn rebuked her request stating that she does not order him around, as Valqine was forced to join the initial engagement of combat by an Apprentice who told him to either join in or get out.

It was a pathetic display.

The two had difficulties against someone who’s missing an arm. Granted she is an experienced acolyte and I was aware she was stylizing her combat defensively towards Soresu- but if you cannot break through the defense of someone who’s defensive bladework is at its infancy stage and you require an extra hand, that was nothing short of pitiful. They utterly lacked teamwork; their moves were contradicting each other. Instead of adding to the overall combat prowess, they diminished their cumulative strength.

But the results were expected, and the Twi’lek paraded in full pride and ego whilst Valqine no doubt felt this had cemented his worth in the eyes of many. We’ve all been wrong before.

Time passed by and I returned to the solitude of my training, sparring against acolytes that had now since disappeared due to various circumstances. Unfortunately, the same could not be said for Nobrcer who entered the training pit, boasting his victory and started exemplifying his muscles by doing pushups.

Apprentice Zhephra and Apprentice Black soon joined after and questioned regarding his decision in challenging Alencia. To which Nobrcer spoke that the red-hair was one of the top acolytes, implying that this had paved his way to the higher echelons of the acolyte pool. Both Apprentices rhetorically asked each other whether that was true, and both agreed that nothing could have been further from the truth.

It was then something I did not expect was uttered from the Pureblood’s lips.

“If you want to come on top. Fight someone who is actually on the top. Such as Acolyte Sovernus, who is by far even if it makes me want to kick myself saying this, is one if not the stronger Acolyte beside Cadeus Horuset.”

For someone who had been undermining, torturing, and discriminated me as an alien scum throughout my time within the House, it was rather unexpected to hear such. Even Apprentice Black seemed curious as to her words, even if he may share the same opinion.

Did I feel prideful or vain?

No, these were not the feelings that pervaded my mind. The closest sensation that exhilarated me was of resounding affirmation. That all my suffering had a meaning, that my painstaking efforts were rewarded in some measure. It confirmed to me that I had stayed true to my ancestor’s path and endured the trials with the conviction I inherited from my predecessors.

Even then it felt unnerving hearing the remark from the Pureblood. Apprentice Zhephra had always been a stark proponent- if not a zealous priestess that had often propagated the notion of Pureblood superiority. At times it was difficult to gauge whether it arises from inherent discrimination of other races, but this contrasting evidence had to be considered within the equation.

Perhaps I misjudged her. The fact she begrudgingly admitted that an alien is in high standings within a traditional House, shows that she is perhaps not driven by blind prejudice. What cemented this further was the notion that she even mentioned her own fiancée who’s regarded to have a genetical expression of purity of the highest order. Not to mention Cadeus is the unspoken alpha, someone who reminds me greatly of Herexil Tzisias.

Immediately animosity emanated from Nobrcer, and it fully consolidated his disposition towards me in full hostility. I felt a modicum of pity if not outright apathetic towards his demeanor, yet nonetheless I converted such into an antagonistic fuel, if only to devour his potential to add to mine.

Apprentice Zhephra gave him a choice. To either learn from me or fight me. Personally, I deem both choices to be interchangeable, for one can learn the most by engaging in spars or duels. Yet it seems the Twi’lek interpreted it as an outright clash for superiority and proclaimed that I should meet him in Korriban in 4 days’ time, citing that his leg was recovering.

There were too many things wrong in that sentence alone and I won’t list them all. For one, he assumed to be in a position of worth, and this is not from an arrogant standpoint but rather a factual view as that is intrinsically embedded generally into Arkanians. A threat more likely, as I am not as naïve to believe he is completely incapable- but a worthy challenge? I think not. To declare that it should be on sanctified soil of the revered Sith Order is nothing short of disgraceful, he does not hold a station of repute nor does any Sith in their right mind view him as someone worthy.

It is regrettable that he chose poorly, while I do not see him as someone of note- he is in alliance with Valqine who I ascertained was a potential investment. I considered that if this hostility is continued, it would not serve a healthy cooperation, so I approached Valqine regarding the situation in an attempt to dissuade Nobrcer from sealing his fate.

At this time, I was also gauging whether Valqine was willing to cast the Twi’lek out, if that was possible then I have no issues in crushing him into blue paste. But alas, it seems a sense of friendship bloomed between them as insufferable as it sounds.

Then there was the other issue.

Uldrinn approached me unexpectedly and started asking questions about Sovereign. There have only been four individuals within the Horuset Powerbase that would be able to draw conclusions and affirm his existence, two of which I have full confidence in. One drew dangerous conclusions, and opted to maintain a measure of distance onto the subject. The most likely would be the only one that was entranced- if not intrigued by the notion. I wondered whether the one eye’d acolyte had some dealings with the individual.

Regardless at this point I was losing my sense of self, and its evident from the recent writing patterns that I have become colder and detached- if not outright express a hint of flagrant animosity towards others incompetence, a result of Sovereign slowly enveloping tendrils into my mind. Regardless I provided the necessary answers to Uldrinn and opted to return to training room.

Nobrcer stood at the centre of the command deck training pit and attempted to provoke me. He taunted that I cowered away and approached Valqine to try and dissuade him from fighting me, claiming that I feared him. It would be foolish for me to state my true intentions and to give way to a such low-level provocation.

Instead I stated the obvious that it would be a pointless display and would serve no one, but it fell on deaf ears by Valqine, Uldrinn and Nobrcer. They all seem to encourage the continuation of this wasteful ordeal.

Regardless I stated I had no intentions of complying to a duel against someone who lacks worth. Nobrcer attempted to telekinetically drag me into the training pit, but it seems he was utterly dull to realise that our distance was vast and I had already consolidated a barrier.

I concealed a layer of deceitful taunt by stating that I would leave in 5 seconds if he does not do anything. To which the Twi’lek retorted that I would be forfeiting if I leave. I reached a level of apathy that was devoid of any care in the world, and told him to interpret it anyway he wants, while surging out a suppressive mental act.

He took the bait and surged forth with a constant full augmentation enveloping his entire figure. The moment he had done so, he had fallen into the trap I had placed and my plans slowly unveiled itself.

The battle was evidently unremarkable. He relied too heavily on his physique and constantly flowed augmentation throughout his entire body. I’ve clashed blades with those who’s strength towers behemoths and juggernauts whose strength was unprecedented, to develop a style that does not directly engage against their strength and focused on exploiting kinetic motion, center of gravity and environmental advantages.

Even then, whilst Nobrcer is indeed a prime example of a muscular build largely unfounded in his race, he utterly paled in comparison to the likes of Morgus Gra'kahn who I crossed paths too many times in the past than I care to admit. Regardless I envisioned the endgame before the fight started and flourished out Force Slow as my priority, to eventually add to the drainage of his being with his own overuse of force reserves.

The near end of the duel was predictable, and it was made far more amusing when I noticed the Twi’lek attempting to goad me into clashing blades against him when he had assumed a defensive stance two with his blades raised.

At this point I would want to illustrate the fact that I had frequently clashed blades with Utahis of House Aayu, as he guided and trained my command of the saber to a level of proficiency that would allow me to clash against those like him- whose lineages traces to masters of the sword and who devoted their entire lives to the art. I thoroughly analysed and scrutinized his combat methods from when I was ordered to duel him by Lord Sanguinis, and therefore in a single glance I already knew what Nobrcer was up to.

He was attempting Sequence 5: The Waterfall maneuver from Utahis’s ‘Aggressive Sequences’ notes. People often discredit Nobrcer’s intelligence, and admittedly I am one of them- but I am not as naïve to believe he is without a modicum of cunning or cleverness. And it was precisely because of this, that I did not provide him the satisfaction, even if I knew the perfect counter to that move. Instead I continued on with Force Slow and would eventually decimate his weakened and low responsive state.

Unsurprisingly Valqine interrupted and shouted for us to stop. Surprisingly though, Uldrinn intervened and casted a Force Push towards me from outside of the training pit. It was abundantly clear that it was to save Nobrcer. Even the Twi’lek is not as naïve to dismiss the fact that he was close to being defeated as he wasted no time sheathing his blade and walked off.

Hypocritically, both Valqine and Uldrinn argued that the fight was meaningless from the start- as though they had memory loss of the fact that I put forth that same argument even before the duel started, to prevent this wasteful ordeal from ever happening. When I pointed that out, they moved past that subject, not willing to admit to their hypocrisy and tried to end the topic altogether, while pulling out the ‘having the last say’ method to appear to be the ones above.

Another instance of double standards unveiled itself when Nobrcer quickly scurried off from the training pit. He was utterly weakened- at least he had the brain cells to know he would be beaten- otherwise he would not have left so eagerly. I used his own words against him stating that by leaving, he would be forfeiting- in which he attempted to brush the topic aside altogether in order to save face by not halting on his departure.

I intended to gauge Valqine’s parameters, whether he was blinded by delusions that pervaded with the Twi’lek. I’ve logically made my case apparent, noting fallacies in his partner yet he remained adamant in his falsehood. No doubt salvaging the remaining parts of his ego and pride. He attempted to place himself above me once more by concealing the aforementioned hypocrisy by moving swiftly to the topic regarding the proposal of the alliance. Speaking in a tone of false authority he said either I accept it or don’t and he won’t be waiting any longer.

This singular instance reminded me of how Nedhorroc attempted to charge me for information. I responded in a similar disposition as I did to the Zabak.

His previous demeanor and speech pattern immediately changed when I stared at him and bluntly told him that if conditions are met, I have no qualms in establishing a cooperation but if they remain the same then consider myself out. Perhaps he was under the impression I was vying for his cooperation, hence he felt that he could speak with more weight and leverage to impose upon me. When I made my position bluntly clear that I do not need him at all nor do I have any strong substantial desire to be in an alliance with him, he changed his tune and realized that his position is not as strong as he thought.

He attempted to make the proposal appealing once more, it became clear that he desired the cooperation more than me, hence he offered a series of promises on his end. One of them was promising to speak to the Twi’lek and turning him down a notch. At this point I was unwilling to continue on to the prospect of cooperation as he had shown the extent of his thought patterns, and I decided his liability outweighs what he could offer. Yet I expressed neutrality and told him that I’ll consider it.

I expected more from him.

What infuriates me more was not the logical fallacies that he made, nor the hypocrisy of his words, nor his denial of his own mistakes for sentimentality sensibilities with a second-class alien. It was his intellect. For someone who proclaims himself to be a mental exemplar, he has disappointed me beyond measure. He was no less a showman who parades around more than what he truly is, and retreats by covering up his mistakes at the first sight of being exposed.

I’ve decided to eliminate such undesirable traits within the acolyte pool. His downfall is inevitable, and there won’t be any fingerprints of my orchestration.

…And when he is finally broken, I’ll offer him a proposal he cannot refuse.

Farewell

I admit.

The sense of control has been blurred beyond my recognition.

Rereading the last few entries I’ve written, I’ve noticed discrepancies and a change in writing patterns- or more specifically my own thought patterns. This cold methodology that is laced with venomous ferocity with an inherent sense of logical superiority is no doubt the byproduct of Sovereign seeping into my mind.

The subtlety is aggravating. Despite no longer experiencing blackouts, I am well aware that his influence still haunts my soul. Feeling the vulnerability of the mind, you begin to understand that despite its vast complexity- it is utterly exposed. Fragile even.

I’m losing myself, and I’m captivated by fear so terrifying that walls seem to be closing in on me. Trapped in a perpetual cage of twilight and shadows despite having free reign. I don’t even trust my senses anymore.

The only one that keeps me centered is Valkara. And even then, it has started to wane in its effect. As though the affliction that has consumed my mind had reached a plateau, and I am treading across the thin wire that is the lifeline of my consciousness.

Against my judgement, Valkara sought to meet me before her departure. I was driven by relentless fear and anxiety that overwhelmed my senses as to her decision, she was close to escaping the powerbase but risked it all by meeting me- someone who may unknowingly thwart her daunting escape.

...She said she had to say farewell in person, even if it means risking her freedom altogether.

The foolishness in this one…The utter disregard for her own safety is nerve-rackingly astonishing…And yet…I’ve never been enamored and captivated by someone’s naivety before. The lengths she would take…the risks she took to have this one moment. I could never understand her, but perhaps that is why I’ve developed feelings for her.

Her sorrowful expression projected inconsolable sadness. As though despite everything that lead her to this path of departure, she herself still had second thoughts. But when my mind questioned the doubt and hesitancy of her leaving, she realized she was leaving someone behind in the cruel world she was escaping from.

Despite the vast lexicon and advanced vocabulary that I possessed. I came across a disquieted moment within my mind. For someone who often flex on creative diction and phrasing, I found myself robbed of words. I could not remember the last time I was speechless and not by choice. But this moment of silence we had together, somehow made up for all the painful words we had thrown at each other in the past.

We embraced in warmth, clasping tightly as though holding the broken pieces of our shattered selves. Her hug was comforting, cradling the hurt that has been tormenting me ceaselessly to no end. When you have a vast mind that always explores the worst outcomes in every single scenario, you become burdened by anxiety. Fear. Paranoia. But these words that once plagued me endlessly began to lose its meaning in her embrace. And for once, my mind gradually became clear and I experienced something I had not considered possible for someone like me.

Peace.

She released our embrace and gently placed her hand on my cheek, gazing at me with those brilliant oceanic blue eyes that I often found myself drowning in their beauty. With soft spoken words she whispered with pleading eyes, to come and run away with her together.

It took immeasurable strength for me to say the words, but it had to be spoken. I told her she has to abandon me. Her expression was heart wrenchingly painful to witness, I no longer could look directly in her eyes when I was driven by so much conflict. She held my hand gently, as she looked at me once more and whispered ‘Please’

…As much as it pained me, I made my decision clear.

If by staying in this hell I would be able to secure her freedom- if that is what it took then I would not hesitate in paying it. With tears glistening she eventually accepted that this was how it must end. But like the bright radiance of her exuberance, she saw a silver lining through the dark haze and promised she would come back for me.

I held down my broken heart and managed to uphold the façade I’ve held for the longest time- brandishing a false smile I told her what I’ve told her many times before, she should only think about that once she was safely with the Jedi, and perhaps I’ll even find my own way out and reunite with her.

…It was the one single lie I kept telling her. In truth, I had no intentions of escaping. She held onto me for so long that she lost sense of how broken I truly am. There was no redemption for me, the atrocious things I’ve done cannot be absolved. There is undeniable pain and endless hatred in this vessel of mine, and yet in her grace she sought to look past all that and believed in some light that was non-existent.

She begrudgingly expressed her farewell before leaving a lasting impression- she disappeared into the night soon after as the moon illuminated where she last stood. I was left in the isolation of my own sorrow, and an overwhelming sense of shame gripped me. I left her with a hope that will never come to pass. A lie I never intended to release. A burden I will forever carry on my consciousness.

I curled up to the side of the wall and kept telling myself, it had to be done. There was no other way …When she held my hand, I felt her longing. I realized how much we cared for one another, and felt regret for not expressing it sooner…I was consumed with so much fear with what could happen, that I neglected the signs of her affection. Now more than anything, I wish to turn back time if only to express my feelings and savour the grace of her presence that I took for granted. 

…It was necessary. It had to be done.

I did what was right… But I can’t…I simply can’t understand why… Why do I feel so broken when I did the right thing? Why does my heart ache with so much pain? I keep telling myself that this was for the best. It had to be for the best.

I lost sense of it all. I don’t know whether I am caught in my own lies in an attempt to justify what I did.

…Now the one person that brought light into my world has disappeared. She escaped with a lie that she held close to her heart, a lie that was spoken by someone who holds her dear. She left with a gleaming hope that one day we will be reunited once more.

But I know the truth.

…We will never meet again.

Spoiler: OOC: Song To Listen to After Reading -"Farewell"- Section of the Entry

[youtube]aeEjnLK0cAk[/youtube]

[Lord Iezkon]

Entry #17 of Horuset Chronicles:

The Arkanian Apprentice

***A detailed recount with in-depth thought processes by Sovernus in his final trial to gain apprenticeship from Lord Sanguinis.***

Improvisation is the gleaming light in the shadows of thwarted plans.

An age-old wisdom purported to be spoken by another ancestor of mine, Lord Ozarus Nova “The Opportunist”.

An Arkanian of exceptional wit who’s venerable age did little to whittle down the vastness of his mind. In the aftermath of losses sustained by the Arkanian Dominion over neighbouring conflicts, the restructuring of our civilization came about an era of chaos.

Regimental thinkers and rational planners were drowned by the floods of unexpected obstacles one after the other. Nothing went accordingly to the proposed plan, and to avoid being labelled as the figures who was responsible for the largest loss of budgets and failed reconstruction- the officials ‘granted’ my ancestor the position. A scapegoat tactic if there was ever one.

Converting failures into successes, his astounding grasp on situations allowed him to navigate crises after crises through his resound resourcefulness.

History often speaks of his exceptional adaptability, able to conjure multitude of complex proposals and designs that would have required a dozen of brilliant strategists to create at a moment’s notice. He was a natural improviser who earned recognition from his quick wit. Often scoring proverbial victories over negotiations and civil banters alike.

Spoiler: Failure

It has been several cycles in which I’ve no recollection of what transpired.

In this seemingly new world I’ve regained conscious in, I am thrown like an infant and forced to adapt to my current surroundings. For several weeks have passed, and no knowledge of what happened during those time came into thought. With only scores of bulletpoints on my datapad of progress and preoccupations I must have underwent. The final one of which is emphasized as the ‘final trial’ which I could only surmise as the last trial for apprenticeship.

But throughout this struggle, I’ve kept Sovereign at bay. Neither one of us truly had control over the vessel, and though a deeper personality was lurking within as some form of safeguard to pilot us through the days providing the bare minimum of activity. And with that I came to a sobering realization I was at the midst of failure.

The deadline was underlined today.

With the objective that I was to claim a Duranium ore from Acolyte Sherrena. Apparently, whoever controlled this vessel kept records on updates. It seemed throughout this time she was wholly absent. Even the other acolytes such as Acolyte Nedhorroc who was ordered to keep track on her and eventually rip the object off from her could not find where she had been. Last record of her whereabouts was when a fight broke out between her and Acolyte Natellia in the dormitories, and that whatever transpired led her to avoid everyone indiscriminately. With these circumstances, it instantly confirmed defeat.

Regardless whether or not I was in control of my vessel, nor the fact that Acolyte Sherrena’s avoidance policy was in full effect, the objectives were not met. Throughout the pristine record I have thus accomplished, it was these uncontrollable situations that had finally broke the streak. I was under no delusion that I had no responsibility over it. My ancestor’s doctrine reaffirmed that even when situations are outside of your control, a true Nova would be able to navigate through it. In that regard, I accept that I was severely lacking and would not give any excuses regarding it.

As these thoughts permeates my mind, the hollow echoes of my footsteps felt a tremble beneath the floor. It was a familiar sensation, an aura that radiated with no impunity.

It was Lord Sanguinis.

Glaring in that foreboding manner of his.

He procured from his pouch the one object that had escaped me. The Duranium ore sat neatly between his forefinger and thumb, he mused as to how Major Koren was able to obtain the object in question before I did. In response I admitted my shortcomings and offered no excuses on that matter. Within this moment I had come to terms with losing the potential apprenticeship, I realized the depth of my own inadequacy and set my mind onto refining myself until another opportune moment unveils itself.

Yet the lord did not dismiss me at all, nor was he expressing displeasure. Instead, it was a rare moment in which he offered his piece of wisdom. Then transitioning it to whether or not I was willing to bet everything on a second chance or allow it to slip into obscurity. When such an opportunity reveals itself, what kind of a Nova would I be if I did not seize it?

Spoiler: The Test

Eventually the conversation was led towards the training pit, and it was evident that whatever will transpire would stem from combat taking place. Thus, my mind sharpened and flourished plans within. In that moment, we were facing one another within the ring. Yet the difference in power was almost palpable and sizzling within the very air. Even breathing air started to turn cold, and I realized the engines of my heartbeat had already drifted into overdrive.

His hand displayed the Duranium ore, as though allowing its presence to gawk in front of me. Yet the shimmer of barrier was evident, and instinctively I drew my own and thus the true purpose of this was revealed.

“Take this from me, and I will make you my apprentice.”

The words deceptively lingered in its simplicity yet was said in a decisive manner. A silent affirmation that this was a pivotal moment. To decide whether I was truly worthy or merely a part of the masses that will eventually wither unforgotten into the sands of history.

I surmised that this was not the true test.

One would not expect an aspirant with their powers at an infancy stage, to be able to rip an object off the iron grasp of a Sith. Even more-so this is a fully fledged Sith Lord and one who is a veteran in the battlefield. The difficulty is no different from attempting to wrest the seasoned duelist’s lightsaber from their clutches, as both are tangible and small objects. The true test lies in evaluating my combat methods, mindset, and how I would approach a superior enemy. He wanted to know how I fight.

But I wanted to prove myself as an exception. To do what was impossible. To be that statistical anomaly. There was a churning feeling that burns with such ferocity that I could not nor want to explain. I wanted to drown in it. To immerse in it.

Thus my passion flowed into improvisational steps of a game plan.

Spoiler: Analytical Confrontation

Repositioning. Depriving defensive parameters.

First move I conducted was a double handed Force Push. It was not design to overwhelm nor injure him. It was meant to weaken the barrier he had raised. But even moreso, it would reposition him further against a wall. To undo a superior force, one must create an imbalance in their flow. His options- while vast- is narrowed down to a number of possible actions. All of which begun processing fervently within my mind.

Yet I realized that there was a limit in what I could influence. Such was the strength of Lord Sanguinis, he displayed an aptitude that immediately restored any loss footing he could have sustained. Force Inertia works wonders in readjusting oneself, as he deftly landed on the metal skirting board. But all was not lost, as it remains within parameters and I had already begun the next sequence of my plans.

Destabilisation. Narrowing maneuverability parameters.

I’ve flourished a deceptive Force Push that seemingly aimed at him but instead would quake upon the platform itself. It was a mundane sequence with no added benefit beyond the obvious imbalance of his footing, yet it was the most feasible move since there is no longer space behind him to which he could retreat from. Which narrows his options in response, whether to engage it directly, or to avoid to the sides. The former would have been a detrimental move, since the first phase had robbed him of his barrier. The second would unknowingly force him to either sides of the corners which would create a disadvantage for himself should he utilize Ataru. Speed was one of the key concerns, as I would not be able to respond someone of superior attributes.

Yet he responded in a way that was one of the least likely to occur. He moved upwards by exerting himself to raise the entirety of the platform to a higher ground. Being below him, I lost sight of him as the view of the bottom side of the platform had consumed my visions. This placed me in an instant disadvantage, and thus I recalculated and sought to return a line of sight with him. As I was retreating, the platform strangely became larger. And it came as an anxious fear when I realized it was blasted towards me. I narrowly escaped by lunging to the side of the room as the platform lay rested in front of me, it was fortunate that I was already in the midst of retreating. But in so doing had placed me on the corner of the room, which limited my own maneuverability. But I took advantage of the new environmental change.

Counterattack. Offensive burst strategy.

Using the platform to cover my intent, I prepared myself while pre-disrupting the training blade’s battery then committed to throwing it towards him. I swiftly followed up by a vigorous Force Shock that would overload the battery when it had reached within the proximity. An explosion occurred with shrapnel’s disengaging from all directions, and it was here I exploited the platform as both a cover and a shield. I was unharmed by the miniature explosion.

But turns out he was too.

He had raised a concentrated barrier that hummed with unnatural strength that absorbed the brunt of the explosion itself. Not even a single shrapnel managed to pierce itself through. There was a musing tone when he spoke that I no longer held a weapon and was backed towards a corner. Provocative when he said it was fitting. As though I was an animal awaiting its own slaughter. Had I been an adversary of relative power, this minor Dun Moch tactic may have done its share of mental imbalance. Yet against a far superior opponent, there was virtually no way I would underestimate him.

Deception. Preconceived calculation exploitation.

With the landscape I have thus created, a veil of smoke had enshrouded the area from the minor explosion preventing a degree of visibility from either side. The situation was fundamentally created in my favour, as I exploited my own Arkanian physiology in detecting thermal signatures, and thus was able to pinpoint his location despite the haze. In an act of feigning desperation, I rushed forth towards him with my hand outstretched as though attempting to seize the ore. The reason for such was that I suspect his mask also affords thermal sensors as he has shown that it had technological capabilities and not simply as a facet to hide his identity. It was when he allowed a recording to flourish out that entailed Acolyte Alencia’s treasonous activities before the lord severed her arm. While it was one occurrence, I did not allow that piece of information to slip me by.

Thus, it was meant as a layered scheme, that I was seemingly acting out on desperation or simply a bold offensive strategy that exploited nothing more than an enshrouded area. If he utilized a passive method of detecting me through sensors or an active method such as Force Sense, then he would be able to see the distance of which is needed for me to reach him. Only requiring the bare minimum of effort to thwart this direct confrontation.

But I exploited the possible calculation within his mind, whilst my hand was outstretched, I utilized a Force Pull onto a training blade on a rack behind him. When I was about to arrive in close proximity, the blade would appear from his blindspot and allow me the advantage of a sudden increase of reach. This maneuver was first designed to combat against ‘percentage dealers’ such as Apprentice Aljo who maximise on efficiency and divines’ distances into calculation, this maneuver serves as a bane of their existence. That split moment would have outmaneuvered reaction times, as I performed an augmented swing that aimed towards the ore from the abrupt extension of reach.

Yet his figure immediately blurred out of sight, as though committing the entirety of his being to avoid this concocted scheme I had planned. The movements of which was unnatural and even exceeded my calculations of him using his perfectly refined augmentation.

This was a true display of Force Speed, one that magnified his own already superior attributes. He had vertically transported himself up the wall to descend with a greater momentum with his lightsaber in full blaze.

This was something I could not escape from unscathe.

Spoiler: Despair of Impossibility

A Falling Avalanche.

Despite it being one handed due to the ore on his other hand, it did little to wane its ferocity. It was made resoundingly clear as to his mastery on such, and cleared the gap of the reason as to why Sith Siors had favoured it. I have little to no experiences in dealing with such a maneuver, and never truly succeeded in defending against such in the past against his apprentice and I knew in this battle with Lord Sanguinis I would not leave unscathe, especially since he had fully enveloped his entirety with the force.

Blood trickled with a mesh of burnt robes.

I had committed to a dodge, but even that was not enough. Within close proximity, and his lightsaber already ignited, I was prepared to engage in a direct confrontation. It was here my ancestor’s words echoed throughout. Improvisation. I had to recalibrate and plan an endgame where it was possible to seize the ore. I reexamined the situation.

1. Environmental advantages lost. Currently in open space.

2. Sustained injuries due to the lord’s previous Djem So maneuver.

3. Lightsaber drawn. His reach would not allow me to disengage.

4. Defensive options unfeasible. Each attempt merely delays the inevitable due to gap in power.

5. Offensive options unfeasible. Each attempt would be countered due to gap in skills.

6. Retreating unfeasible. His superior attributes would interrupt any attempt.

7. Personal inferior attributes. Cannot withstand a direct confrontation without sustaining injuries.

8. Positioning. Close proximity that endangers any other options, nor able to exploit anything.

9. Deceptive tactics unfeasible. His current concentration had reached its plateau and full sight on me.

10. War of attrition. Delays the inevitable, his endurance and stamina far outstrips mine.

11. Unknown technological factors. He has shown to have gadgets, which adds to the disadvantage.

12. Unknown Force abilities factors. Throughout my time observing him, he had shown to have a vast variety of Force powers. The possibility that he has not yet used the others is abundant and serves as another layer of disadvantage.

13. Propensity of utilizing absolute win conditions. Each complex scheme I launched was thwarted by an absolute force. Force Inertia after destabilization. Concentrated barrier after burst strategy. Force Speed after the exploitation of preconceived calculations. He was not satisfied by simply thwarting each complex scheme, he utterly overpowered any chance.

14. …

My mind continued on racing into endless factors, the list continued on and on and on. Into the smallest details that would not be worthy to be listed, such as the apparent shrapnel’s in the area. And even then, nothing was feasible.

There was simply not a single aspect that was at all to my advantage nor could I exploit. Any possibilities were crushed by uncontrollable external factors. And I was reminded of what had transpired prior to this.

I had failed in the task before in retrieving the ore from Acolyte Sherrena. The failure was also due to external factors outside my control. The sudden thought creeped up into my mind.

Will I fail here too?

Subjugated by the same conditions that plagued me before? Outdone by an impossible situation?

It was simple in declaring that you would rise above the rest.

That you would overcome odds. But even those bleak moments in people’s lives, there was at least a single factor that one could exploit in that given situation. It was far easier to say to others one would crush out the competition when your relative power was within their realms.

Then Valkara sprung to mind amidst the chaos of my thoughts.

Our love was torn and tested by the scrutinizing gaze of those influences we cannot control.

Our separation was also due to these uncontrollable factors. All the agonizing hardships we faced. All the punishments that we were subjected to. Where nothing was ever in our favor. And the creeping terror of Sovereign’s presence haunted our waking moments. I could not provide the love she desperately needed, nor was I able to be deserving of such.

Utahis drifted into my thoughts.

The rivalry between us is one I deeply cherish. It was one that was not layered on detrimental destruction, but where productivity flourished and cultivated us in its chaos. I felt the connection between our legacies, and felt that somewhere down the line, we would have become individuals of exceptional powers forever locked in that cycle of competition. Yet the disconnect that had severed our bonds arises from these same uncontrollable factors.

I had lost both of them.

I realized how truly weak I was when I was confronted by the harsh truth.

I feared the unknown.

But not simply the unknown such as those afraid of death.

The unknown of things that are known. The uncontrollable factors of things that I was fully aware of. To stare at impossibility in its gaping maws and be unable to deny its existence. Utterly kneeling to its unwavering design.

Then the subconscious of subservience entered. Where doubt reigned and irresponsibility attempted to relieve me of this pain. My mind conjured excuses to soothe me. That by definition, one cannot control uncontrollable factors. Chaos would not be chaos if it is orderly.

That I had to remind myself the true test is most likely that Lord Sanguinis is merely evaluating my combat methods. No one would bet on an Acolyte being able to deprive a Sith Lord of an object within his hand. Especially when the lord in question is a renowned veteran and seasoned duelist who has his entire concentration on the acolyte.

Perhaps he would be satisfied with how I’ve conducted myself already. These repositioning of combat methods and tactical stratagems, while adjusting and exploiting the factors within situations I’ve orchestrated.

There is a chance and possibility that he would still offer an apprenticeship after this ordeal. Feasible that he should utterly crush me and perhaps deprive me of certain features, as though I was unmolded clay yet still offer the apprenticeship I desire.

It was all wishful thinking, and nothing held true to reality.

Spoiler: Maelstrom of Resolve

My heart is bleeding.

Why was I creating excuses for myself?

How can I live with myself if I passed, knowing I had failed to overcome this eternal struggle?

If I cannot overcome this now, I stand to lose people I care about over and over again. No matter what powers I obtained. A perpetual cycle of losses till it breaks down my soul.

I would remain a weakling behind the robes of the strong. A prey pretending itself to be a predator.

I never wanted to become such a false Sith.

I wanted to stand as a paragon.

An exemplar.

One who would not tolerate those Sith that was granted power without truly understanding what it is worth. The pretense of such I highly vilify in others I’ve observed on a daily basis. To purge these disgusting stains upon the order. Knot their entrails and display them to the next screw up that dares tarnish the name of the Sith.

I am severely disappointed.

-Truly- disappointed.

Strictly tired of these immature Sith.

Ineffectual malcontents whose hypocrisy knows no bounds.

Incompetent cretins wallowing in their dirt, parading as Sith whilst squirming in their filth.

I will -not- allow these scums to tarnish the legacy of my grandfather.

I had to become the Sith I was meant to be.

That was when I decided what I had to do.

No longer will I allow any losses. No longer will I allow weakness. I will not settle for anything less than perfection. And if the ‘gods’ decide that I should fail, I will drag them off their pedestals and burn their false thrones till there is nothing but ash to remind them not to vex me.

There was a resonance in my mind that clicked in its obscurity. As though the amalgamation of self-loathing of my own weakness and an innate hatred of others concocted itself into a maelstrom of awareness. Sovereign’s influence rooted into the core, and as it did, an overwhelming sense of dominance exerted out.

The mind surged out into countless processes. All fervently scanning multitudes of information in search of a particular knowledge. A seemingly irrelevant memory that could be the crux of the solution.

Until finally it unveiled itself.

“Here kneels the wretch Nedhorroc, who in his presumptuous hubris has diminished the name of House Horuset in public in front of Sith Lords of the Empire. He offered them little courtesy, spoke to them as equal and proclaimed himself the Rank of Sith despite being nothing more than filth. This disgrace, this alien degenerate will serve as an example for all those who seek to sully the Dark Lord’s name with their putrid actions and claim power beyond them.”

Within the memory, Lord Sangunis exerted his raw physical prowess- utterly demolishing the Zabrak. He landed a heavy fist that reverberated and echoed when it hit the Zabrak’s body where the liver and kidneys are. Within that movement he had blasted the alien onto the ground in front of him.

Staring at him with those infernal eyes in complete and utter disgust.

As though exemplifying how disgraceful his hubris was.

This was the final piece.

This memory was what I needed.

Spoiler: Against All Odds

As the endgame projected itself in my mind, my mental and physical fortitude replenished in vigour and spirit.

Lord Sanguinis glared with narrow eyes as his lightsaber spread out like a crimson wing of annihilation. I engaged in a disadvantaged strategy, confronting him into blade combat. I had knowingly engaged in an option that would leave me injured and was highly unfeasible, yet in so doing I had created the necessary steps to allow the end goal to manifest itself.

The flurries I enacted out continuously left me battered with refined counterattacks that was coupled by an elbow blow by the lord leaving me painfully injured. Each successive time, I deceptively attempted to reach ever closer to the ore in his hand, until an opening unveiled itself and as it did, I placed weight onto my recessive back leg in anticipation. I managed to use a Force Pull whilst the lord was on the offensive that allowed my hand to finally reach the ore in his hand.

Yet in so doing, his crimson lightsaber had deftly reached near the throat of my neck.

There was a pensive silence that permeated the room.

Lord Sanguinis stared through his infernal mask, awaiting a reaction from me. Whether this ‘checkmate’ move had finally broken me or was I foolish enough to attempt anything else.

More than anyone, I was aware I could not do any more moves. But it did not mean the game has ended. Nor was my inaction a sign of surrendering.

No. The game had merely reached its plateau. This was the critical moment I anticipated.

I felt the projection of Sovereign emanating from me, as it expressed itself through an air of scrutiny. A cold precision embedded itself within me layered with obscure ruthlessness. I did something I never had done before.

I stared directly back at Lord Sangunis’s own infernal glare.

Our gaze locked, and despite my broken figure, it did little in depriving any intensity of my gaze. For what seemed like an eternity trapped in a few seconds, I was waiting for him to make that -one- move.

Then it happened.

He allowed himself a snort that exemplifies his view of the situation. Within a swift movement he dis-ignited his lightsaber and slammed his fist into my solar plexus before launching me with the same hand using Force Push, blasting me on the ground in front of him.

The pain was agonizing, and I felt myself reeling backwards and slamming against the hardened metal. I felt a fracture of my ribcage as it descended heavily upon me. Spurting out crimson blood and breathing hard drawn air. 

Then the lord’s awareness had settled into his mind.

He realised his left-hand glove had disappeared… Along with the ore.

His white bluish skin had revealed itself before placing the lightsaber to his waist. For an enigmatic figure who viciously hunted those that attempted to unveil his identity, he had found that his hand was exposed, a decisive confirmation and undoubtable evidence of that he was neither a Pureblood nor a Human.

Yet the maelstrom of fury was absent. Instead of the wrath he has a history of enacting onto those beneath him that attempted to uncover of what lies beyond his masked veil, he brooded in his silence.

Watching me ever closely.

As to how I was able to seize the ore from the lord, it arises from a number of things.

It was evident that while the lightsaber was at my throat, he never intended to end my life. It was a display to show that this ordeal has ended on his terms. I had considered him using it offensively to shiim me, but since this was the proverbial ‘last’ move, it was relatively unlikely. The next sequence of his move would narrow down the options even further.

Thus, it was here why the recording of Nedhorroc’s punishment proved itself to be the key.

The public display of Zabrak’s punishment revealed to me Lord Sanguinis’s psychological behavior. He was prone to utilizing his raw physical strength in order to make an example. Specifically, he has a penchant of aiming at the centre of the body, with the recording he demonstrated it by aiming for the liver and kidney area before casting the Zabrak on the ground in front of him.

Beforehand I realized I could not find an advantage in any factors. Nor was there any exploitable situations or circumstance. The fight had drawn on, and the lord’s focus eventually permeated the battlefield. While I was able to orchestrate situations in the initial stages, it was unfeasible as the battle progressed.

I could not control these uncontrollable external factors. But instead I opted to anticipate it.

When he had dis-ignited his lightsaber, the recessive leg I had prepared earlier moved into action. I planted it against his waist planning to use it as a pivot and seized the ore with both my hands, aiming to hold onto it with the entirety of all my strength. I anticipated that he would aim for the same area that he had subjected the Zabrak into, with the goal of blasting my body off to the ground. Though the Force Push added to the blow was something I did not predict, it ironically had aided me in securing the momentum in depriving him of the ore.

Within my broken state I attempted to stand. My heartbeat was beating in war-like drums, I had overcome the impossible. Not by adapting to the situation, but anticipating of what will be.

What Lord Sanguinis inquired of me prior to all this eventually became true.

I had risk everything for this second chance. Most are unwilling to sacrifice and enact failures to gain something. They become too cautious, too withdrawn and would rather act on a combat sequence when it confirmed their victory. In that regard, they lacked the resolve needed to engage those far superior than they are.

While in hindsight the entirety of the plan sounds masterfully crafted, the reality was that I had risked everything on the microscopic chance that my prediction became true.

It was a gambit that merely paid off. Statistically a vast number of things could- and under normal circumstance would guarantee to go wrong. But in the words of the lord himself, you must crush these like a bug.

The silence that permeated the room was finally ended with one single word uttered from me in a tone of decisiveness, presenting the prize I seized from the hands of the Sith Lord himself. The sentiment was reciprocated in turn by Lord Sanguinis, who curiously stated it rather emphatically.

“…Master”

“Kneel…”

This singular word fully encapsulated the magnitude of the moment. There was a resounding sense of affirmation that echoed throughout my body, and a feeling of euphoria- the likes of a plateaued bloodlust and adrenaline had seep into my brain.

What transpired after was a declaration of my new position, and the decree of responsibilities that would be expected of me. And by the end of the ordeal Lord Sanguinis launched a lightning towards the bloodied physique of my being as a reminder of all this.

Yet I was exhilarated.

The epiphany that Lord Sanguinis rose to the upper echelons of the Empire as an alien confirmed to me that those of worth could rise beyond their specie’s station. The rumors were no longer vague speculations to me. Even more gratifying was the fact that this is a traditionalist powerbase, his existence alone proves that he is the exception to the norm. He was the statistical anomaly that I aspired to be. One who could turn tides against all odds by their presence alone.

Grandfather…

At last, I have reached the gateway to power. What lies beyond these obscure doors will conjure adversities beyond my current comprehension.

But know that I will overcome them.

I will uphold these principles of the Sith and all that which we stand.

Should despair beckons me into its embrace, unwaveringly will I deny the warmth of its façade with the coldness of my existence.

And should those of false power and worth attempt to force their will upon me, I will viciously rip their tendons out until they can do nothing but kneel in utter subservience.

This is my new creed. A vow I will strive to uphold.

Never waver, never relent.

[Lord Iezkon]

Entry 18# of Horuset Chronicles
The Path Forward

“Self-control ceases to be when conviction is absent.”
An age-old wisdom purported to be spoken by another ancestor of mine, Ozarain Nova “The Wise”. An Arkanian of exceptional fortitude and wisdom, whose depth in stoic philosophy and immeasurable discipline commanded respect and reverence from both his allies and enemies alike, a feat that only the exceptional figures in history could ever do. House Nova had many iterations of rises and falls, yet most historians would debate that the golden age of its prosperity was orchestrated by none other than the venerable ancestral patriarch himself.

For in his unorthodox wisdom, the organization restructured in ways that were considered detrimental by those who initially doubted him. What was once centralized in a pyramid structure was utterly deconstructed into a decentralized format, as positions of hereditary ranks and straightforward chain of command was converted to one of anarchic state. It allowed those of merits and ingenuity to rise according to their skills, and those who sat comfortably in their velvet cushions would find themselves equal to the challenge or found wanting.

Inviting chaos into the order naturally caused dissent to those who believed themselves above reproach, yet his stoicism warded his vision with an iron fist and his determination remained unshaken despite the many intrigues and conspiracies that attempted to remove him as patriarch. And over the years, those who doubted him found themselves sharing the same vision, for the loose structure allowed seamless collaboration that allowed ideas to flourish unhindered by bureaucratic tapes—where passion and inspiration dictated their results, and not the approval of a superior who has little to no idea of its merits.

His conviction to remain true to his path and vision, knowing that he would have created countless enemies even from within his own organization remains a topic of admiration and adulation by scholars and historians for centuries to come.

Spoiler: Equality is a lie

The virtue of a Sith is to be challenged in each cycle.

No sooner than when I ascended, were the others compelled to subject their superiority upon me. Yet it was evident that it did not arise from prejudice or discrimination, it was a sensation I’ve felt numerous times in the past.

Their attempts lingered in fear and uncertainty. Converted into pre-emptive strikes—to instill a subconscious thought of inferiority within me. An opportune moment whilst I was the newest addition to the ranks of apprentices. A time when they are still able to deny me. For when one day I ascend to greater heights, that sense of inferiority is meant to continuously keep me in line.

I would not fault their strategy. As rudimentary as it seems, it was a tactic that has been employed in countless variations across the galaxy and throughout time itself. Had I been plagued with insecurity and doubt, it would naturally have been the most optimal strategy.

Within inconsequential moments of dining within the Mess Hall, Apprentice Cerberus Black intruded on my personal space abruptly. He slammed against the table in front of me as though to capture my attention as it echoed out throughout the cantina. Several acolytes were silenced within that moment, observing what would unfold between us. He began to detail that I had ascended to the same rank as apprenticeship as he is, and immediately challenged the notion on whether or not I believed I was in some shape or form equal to him, threatening me if I ever thought of being able to contend with him. It was clear within that moment it was an attempt to assert his will upon me, or to remind me of my ‘place’ of unspoken ranking within his mind.

Truthfully, I felt disappointed.

Disappointed that there was even a need to assert superiority in such a fashion. It compelled me to think further whether this was truly an attempt, or whether he was gauging a reaction to unveil a psychological profiling of my mind. Perhaps he desired to know whether I would be one to fold or push back when forced upon in such a situation.

In the depths of my apathy, I spoke about the nature of equality and its delusions. That even within the same rank or category, there will inevitably be a gradient of power. That is simply the nature of reality, and by virtue it is through this that others have risen and fallen. For when equality triumphs, stagnation follows. I ended the remark by stating that we will -never- be equals, and striving for it only unveils inadequacies to those who believe in it.

As a result, I countered his threat that he should be wary on who he threatens, as while I may never be his equal in terms of consolidated power…

He will -never- be my equal in sheer mental brilliance.

He gave an unexpected grim smile that lingered in pride and recognition. A sudden hard pat on my back accidentally made me spill my kaffa…. I needed that kaffa.
Without spending another moment, he merely remarked that I should see him soon. As he clasped his mask on and exited the room without uttering another word, carrying himself with the same strong and hardened exterior his presence always exuded.

Whatever that entails I could only venture a guess. Yet this sudden shift forced me to recalculate his intentions and personality—Perhaps I have misjudged him.

But I had more pressing matters.

And so I bought another kaffa.

Spoiler: A Test of Blades

It became clear to me that Apprentice Cerberus Black’s approach was merely the beginning of many others that sought to meet me. And whether they had divisive intentions or amicable ones, it matters not in the grand scheme of things. As inevitable as death is, so too are these confrontations.

Apprentice Vaenra Horuset is an individual that consistently bares teeth against newly aspirants. Even during the acolyte days, she had a penchant for involving herself in the matters of those lesser to her. Something that often brought the ire of her master Lord Trakaton Kalkoran and her peers who saw the futility in engaging much thought and effort in acolytes.

Personally, I share her thoughts on the significance in noting aspirants. But perhaps that is the Nova within me, knowing that even those below you have the potential in usurping your station if one becomes too careless. Politics has a way of allowing ascensions and downfalls to be as fleeting as the wind.

Yet I would not involve myself deeply in their own matters to the extent that the Sith Pureblood does, and it does not surprise me why several of her peers view her as a mockery. Whilst the three of the Kalkoran apprentices often demeans each other, it seems she is a target that most would look down upon. Apprentice Zhephra Aeros often lauded that no one takes her seriously and has spoken in great lengths of her stupidity in trying to outmatch her verbally and punishments from their Master, and Apprentice Black has commented that she focuses on the wrong things at the wrong time. Apprentice Soyut Vipion once called her an imbecile in front of acolytes, and it became a reverberating moment that the other present apprentices did not refute that. Contrastingly they made minor comments agreeing to it.

A toothless dragon that inspires more ridicule than fear.

Yet I reserve judgement in all I meet, there is always something good to be found in bad individuals and vice versa. To be too drawn into blind hatred or dismissal would be to deprive us in truly understanding the mindset of your adversaries. Afterall it is easier to dismiss someone you hate, than to see whether there is a greater intrigue behind it all. Something House Nova is all too familiar with. But I digress.

The reason I brought forth her name is due to a sudden holocall made in the public Horuset frequency, where she inquired whether I was available to meet with her in the training room. I’ve noted she’s been vying to set a regimental sparring schedule that is often met with criticism by her peers who wanted something in exchange or simply asked her what was the point of it all. Despite all the ridicule in the world, her focus in constant training is something to be admired. I particularly did not mind sparring, it would allow me to gauge deeper into their combat methods and throughout all these exchanges, I would have gained far more than they can possibly earned.

Our confrontation was one that lingered in tactical uniformity. She employed Jar’kai to a reasonable level, but it was clear she was at its infancy when she contradicted a number of vectors. I’ve exploited these vectors which caused her to awkwardly shift back and forth to more familiar styles. It was a decisive moment where I was able to grasp her wrist, and it was clear that her thoughts were too driven into thinking about the movements of her blades that she dedicated her next motion in her blade work, forgetting that she utterly neglected that I had her wrist firmly within my grasp.

It would have been a firm and resounding strike. Yet in her panic she employed that one ability that continues to elude me. Force Speed. Even when a mistake was made, she completely negated a vulnerability she forgot to defend. And within the next moment in her rage she weighted in the pure difference in power. 

I was defeated, as expected of a newly ascended apprentice against a seasoned one. Yet I knew within that moment she was vulnerable, and she knew it too. And now she understands how swift I am to exploit any single opening. Unwilling to explore further on what had occurred she huffed and walked cursorily out of the chamber.

But this experience taught me I still had much to learn.

Spoiler: A Round of Tea

Apprentice Zhephra Aeros, a Sith Pureblood wanted to offer a tour to the Kalkoran Estate, something she believed her Master would have been pleased in knowing I am adequately transitioned into the powerbase. Throughout most of my time in the early days, I was a target of prejudice and scrutiny due to my alien heritage, and often the most vocal of proponents was from the tongue of Aeros.

Truth be told, my presence within the acolyte generation was highly controversial and at one point became a heated topic that permeated the entirety of the powerbase. Often aliens are able to survive and thrive by simply being utterly subservient behind the shadows of Purebloods who stood at the top. Being brazen in attempting to reach the greatest of heights is enough to flood those believing they had a chance down to the pits of hell.

Yet I ruthlessly carved my path through to be acknowledged by those who once doubted me, and by the end was recognized as the most dominant acolyte even with the presence of noteworthy Purebloods within my generation. Perhaps what cemented the controversy further was when it was decided that a number of Sith Pureblood was placed under my wing and there was an unspoken image that I belonged amongst their kind, as there was an unwillingness to allow my presence to side with the aliens. 

All of this I attribute to Lord Trakaton’s advice, Lord Sanguinis’s wisdom and Lord Saud’s insights.
“Those who push beyond the boundaries of their station will live to surpass it.”

The reason I’ve spoken in length in regards to the tribulations I’ve overcome was due to Apprentice Zhephra’s change in disposition. She shared her Master’s thoughts in regards to me, and saw that I would be able to contribute to the Kalkoran powerbase in the capacity that her fellow peers, Apprentice Vaenra and Apprentice Cerberus lacked.

Her acknowledgement to someone she once criticized due to their alien heritage allowed me to understand a facet of her principles, and perhaps would dissuade others from believing she is purely an overzealous fanatic with an utter disregard to others by race alone. I would hate to think she believes my Master is unworthy due to his race.

Whilst we were touring, we came upon Neophyte Aregra, who as always seems equally eloquent and graceful in her exterior. She seemed gladdened to find me within the trappings of an apprentice, signifying that I had ascended. She halted our tour momentarily and spoke of how she found it a relief that I had finally blossomed into the Sith she always knew I had the potential to become. Believing that I would be able to contribute to the powerbase well within the future.

She was one of the few Sith that I truly did not want to disappoint. She believed in me from the start. It was as though she was gifted with insight that others did not readily possess, something that was shared with Lord Saud and often compels me to understand her psychology and mindset further. I sought to acquire that level of insight myself, something that would reign over both the Empire’s allies and enemies.

After a brief conversation with Neophyte Aregra and solidifying my intent to support the powerbase to the best of my capacity, she gave a graceful nod before offering that I would have some tea with her sometime. A request that I accepted readily before we parted ways. Not knowing this would become a minor tradition between Aregra and I.

Furthermore, Apprentice Zhephra eventually finished the tour and later would invite for tea at the Aeros Estate. It became a resounding event where we were able to discuss about several subjects such as traditionalism, chaos & order and the current state of the powerbase. And gradually I was able to view her mindset more and more, unveiling parts of her personality that was rare for the public to see. Both of us agreed that the powerbase needed more unity, in the prospect of the coming wars, but moreso that at its current state the Kalkoran powerbase was divided and often on the field—the apprentices would bicker endlessly in deciding on plans of action. Something that needed to be resolved.

As I gaze outwards towards the stains of rain across the Aeros Estate’s window, I could not help but wonder about the state of the Sith Order.

Whether the untended taint is a product of our ignorance or our failures.

Spoiler: The Divide

My mind plagues me endlessly with the flashing memories of that confrontation with Lord Sanguinis.

I never felt more alive when I felt my mind had clicked into alignment. It was a sensation that continues to elude me, but inherently I craved in desperation. The Dark Side engulfed me into its embrace and within that ephemeral moment, something within me awakened. Yet I fear what occurred had deepened Sovereigns tendrils closer into the core of my being. Within that small window, I knew what I felt. But I did not want to admit it.

I temporarily merged with Sovereign.

Neither of us had control, but we were in control. As paradoxical as it may seem. Within that divided moment, I was neither him nor myself. I was…
I simply was.

I felt inevitable. I felt omnipotent. I felt existence.

That few seconds felt like an eternity passing through my soul.

And it beckoned faded memories of that time in Korriban. Where I was forced to extinguish the life of my loved one…Sophia…The Dark Side amplified my being into a ceaseless existence of catatonic wrath, I felt a dark collision of souls where my ruthlessness eclipsed any rationality of a broken body. The entirety of my existence sought the utter evisceration of Herexil Tzizias, the alpha of the generation and the one who orchestrated the scheme that forced Sophia and I to kill each other…

It mattered not what power he possessed, who’s protection he hid behind, nor the weighted injuries of my body.

Beyond the merged power I wielded, everything was rendered -utterly- meaningless. All was equally subservient to my design only to be crushed underneath the weight of its pressure.

That sensation was the longest I’ve felt throughout my entire life, it was not merely temporary but was a constant state of being. And with that his death was…inevitable.

Endless questions began draining my mind…Was that who I truly am? Was I broken beyond recognition that I could not recognize myself anymore?

What if I become something that I will regret one day?

Something that could no longer be loved by Valkara, nor deserve the warmth that she radiantly beckons. How am I supposed to explain to her about all of this? I simply cannot bring her into this.

She is my one constant, in an ever changing and discordant life. With all the darkness that envelops me, she is that one candle that could defy the darkness…But also defines it.

She will serve as a catalyst to bring me closer to myself once more.

No-- No…I need to remove such thoughts away from my mind.

I need to shield her away from this darkness. She will never know of this. Of how I feel. Of how I…crave this darkness.

What if in that state of utter mercilessness, I began to neglect her wellbeing—or even see her as an obstacle to eliminate.

I needed her to remind me. That deep down, I still hold love and compassion. That throughout all this I still have her standing beside me. I needed to believe--

That my heart isn’t fractured.

There lies redemption within me… But…

What is redemption compared to true undiluted power?
…
I felt fear.

I could not understand who I was anymore. These constant struggles against Sovereign only blurred the lines in-between.

This pain and agony within me…It felt like a knife gutted through my stomach, twisting endlessly in a way that would invite every inch of pain from the serrated steel.

I am afraid.

Afraid of who I was becoming.

Of -what- I am becoming.

…But worst of all

Lord Sanguinis knows.

...And I doubt he will simply let things be.

[Lord Iezkon]

Entry 19# of Horuset Chronicles

Accumulation of Power

“A true museum is a place where time is transformed into space.”

An age-old wisdom purported to be spoken by another ancestor of mine, Narevig Nova “The Collector”. An Arkanian of opulent and luxurious taste, whose interest in collecting was as voracious as the most gluttonous of beasts. Driven by ambition and a will to possess everything, he descended to an almost obsessive compulsion of seizing all within his reach. Much of the family’s wealth staggered in the wake of his collective design, believing that an abundance of wealth and credits were immaterial in comparison to the tangible assets and rare materialistic delights that could be exchanged for it. Yet in spite of an image of a frivolous money spender, it was nothing in comparison to his more deprave obsessions.

 
Verily he was more interested in collecting knowledge, artifacts and scriptures of old—Believing them to be the only worthy aspiration to strive for. And when knowledge was not enough, he started collecting souls. Preying on those whose businesses relied on loans and financial aid from House Nova, scheming meticulously to force them into life debts and mortgage their souls. House Nova saw a rapid decline in its prosperity underneath the weight of his rule, yet inversely had raised much of its assets and influence over several families that inevitably became its vassals.

His ideals were often misconstrued by scholars as detrimental, often lauded as a disgrace to the Nova legacy, yet I understood the wisdom behind his seemingly scandalous façade. He understood the significance of influence, knowledge and converting intangible resources into reality. And as the wealth of House Nova gradually recovered in subsequent generations; due to his contributions, the family holds the candle to the monopoly of material wealth that was accumulated during his era.

Spoiler: Absent Teachings

A sense of curiosity flows through my veins no different than blood.

Perhaps that is the fateful curse of a Nova, an inherent desire to engorge on information and details. It’s no surprise that the Sith is intertwined with our legacy, for knowledge is power and House Nova understands the depths of such in an even deeper and severe standard. Even to apply it in ways that are considered inconceivable by most.

Hence it has become tiresome to witness all these manifestations of the Force and be found lacking in its vocation. My mind trails to all the singular moments where others knowledge of advanced techniques and powers diminished the effectiveness of my tactics and strategy. Frustration fueled me that blunt force without precision continues to thwart my combat methods. I had to engorge on these abilities and convert it to my own, and unveil the true extent of what those abilities can do with a mind of ingenuity.

Lord Sanguinis provided the utter bare minimum of what is required to be an apprentice. After several months, he brought me to an obscure temple that was a focal point of the Dark Side. Detailing the methods of creating a crystal meant to be the first lightsaber within my disposal. There were two methods in manifesting such, yet I was drawn to the more potent method that forcefully would have drained much of my endurance.

By the end of the creation, I methodically created the lightsaber with the same duranium alloy that derived from the ore from his challenge. The selection of such was to be expected, and perhaps even something the Sith Lord himself anticipated. I unveiled the lightsaber and presented it to him, symbolizing that this shall be the arsenal that will eviscerate the Empire’s enemies and as an instrument of death in his name. Lord Sanguinis stared through his infernal mask and responded in neutral fashion before dismissing me with a hint of indifference.

It became painstakingly clear that my Master had no intentions of molding me. His mind is drawn to shaping Valkara into a vessel of his heir, providing lessons of abilities as well as introducing her to those outside of the powerbase that could teach her sorcery and expand on her own network of contacts.

It’s evident that Sith Siors is unworthy to be his successor. I understood that Lord Sanguinis found him severely lacking in certain capacities and that is simply something that could not be forged without drastic measures. It’s a quality that is inherent and would mostly manifest within a select few over many generations. Whilst Sith Siors was indeed a veritable warrior with a stubbornness that would see through the demise of many obstacles, he lacked that one singular trait. Something that I believe Lord Sanguinis sees within Valkara, enough to divert and allocate his time and effort in nurturing her.

Most if not all of the assignments in regards to the security and future prospects of the powerbase were instead redirected towards me, as though I was an administrative beast of burden that would handle all of the paperwork’s, lifting such burdens from his other apprentices so they may focus on enriching themselves to greater heights of power.
Lord Sanguinis kept me around as leverage.

An object of lesson over his primed apprentice. I was only meant to be a catalyst to instill the changes he deems fit within her, to improve upon and mold her, to perhaps one day utilize me further as a chain she needs to remove to finalize her transformation. A sacrificial pawn in a game to elevate her further to the heights of power, a mere footnote in her path to be his successor.

Spoiler: Collection

I felt resentful.

A cold and piercing hatred that dwells beneath the worlds of my heart. Yet it was a tempered hatred that could calm the most volatile of storms. In the depths of my unending loathing I sought to carve through a path of my own making. I did not require Lord Sanguinis to bolster my prowess, nor should I depend on him in any measure. Independence and initiative are my guide and I will see to my goals fulfilled through my own orchestration.

My mind traces onwards to engorging abilities and to make them my own, a collection of arsenals within my disposal. And so I sought sources of knowledge that were scattered across the powerbase, indirectly building my own image and reputation with the apprentices and Sith throughout the powerbase.

I took up Apprentice Cerberus Black’s suggestion to meet him sometime, and we’ve spoken in length in regards to the path forward with the powerbase—of which he seems primarily disinterested in the details of its expansion but more drawn to a prospect of purging the weakness within.

Over the next few weeks, we continued to embolden a sense of camaraderie, as he views that I am one of the few within the House that shares his sentiments in culling the unworthy and believes that unlike most of the other apprentices, I had a clear vision forward that aligns with the Dark Lord’s priorities.

That notion was justified due to the fact that I simply was unwilling to entertain the theatrics and bickering of those wallowing in their filth, attempting to undermine and demean those around them to salvage some sense of superiority. It only reveals their inadequacies and fragile ego, and consequently lose the respect of those around them. Yet it seems many do not know that my reserved demeanor and neutral responses were often concealing a depth of disappointment. If not outright pity for them.

After a long conversation whilst I was repairing and implementing modifications for Apprentice Cerberus’s helmet, he tested its integrity and wore it; noticing the adjustability of its design. A design that inevitably became a signature of his in the many wars to come. With a sudden abrupt halt of our conversation, he promptly told me to follow him. Eventually I found myself within the training pit and had to engage in a deadly confrontation against him, and found myself scoring temporary victories against his armor and managed to bleed him despite his cladded form. However, it did little to halt his assaults and I soon found myself battered by a physical offense that was similar to Lord Sanguinis’s brutality.

Over the next few weeks, he began imparting knowledge of both Force Speed and Force Lightning and began tempering my proficiencies to a level that would be sufficient in allowing me to enact the duties expected of me. He needed someone reliable on the field aside from himself, and it seems he could not expect such from the others. I had no plans to disappoint, and so our conversation adjourned with a knowing grin that the Empire’s enemies stood no chance against us.

Striking out further in my initiative I approached Apprentice Zhephra Aeros, and entailed my request in regards to an uncommon ability within her disposal. Force Whirlwind was truly an ability that was underrated to most, within my mind’s eye there was countless of variations and creativity one can utilize it to devastating effects. And the dynamics of such abilities could amalgate into a deadly combination in cooperation with others.

Yet naturally she was reluctant and reserved, it was an ability that she coveted afterall, being the only one within the powerbase that possesses such—at least to my knowledge. However, she understood where my mind was at, knowing that I was different from the others. I did not seek the ability to one day turn it against her as most Sith are inclined to do, even the prospect of imparting such an ability to another inherently opens a prospect of nurturing one’s own demise. My priorities were in duty and obligation towards both the Kalkoran powerbase and House Horuset as a whole, and my single-minded focus is known throughout in supporting its foundations.

She needed proof of my worth, something that would eclipse even those Sith Purebloods that sought the ability from her. Over the week I ruminated deeply into her character and what she represented. Her lineage traces to the ancient Kissai of old and the ancestral line has a deep devotion towards the Old Ways and appreciation to its historical culture. Yet obtaining a relic or scripture was something any other Sith could possibly do, it would not emphasise my worth over those of others especially her own kind.

And then it unveiled itself.

After processing multitudes of memories, I came upon one that would solidify my worth, and even end the controversy of my image. I showed her an endeavor of mine, recorded with full resolution in the holocom and recording devices when I was subject to the full weight of the Kissai Spirits of old.

That recording showed that around me were withered skeletons and corpses that were evidently once Sith that proved themselves unworthy in the face of their ancestors, it was notable that many amongst them were Sith Purebloods themselves and those whose stations surpasses my own. The Kissai Spirits surrounded my very being with an unimaginable weight of power that is unrelenting cold to the touch. They were demanding to know why I—an alien, believe myself worthy of their boon when so many others had fallen in the deepest of their admonishments. Where even distinguished Sith Purebloods were found lacking.

Within that moment, against the prospect of death I spoke with an unwavering will speaking in regards to my worth to weigh in against their signature judgement. For what seemed like an eternity passing through mere seconds, without uttering another word the Kissai Spirits granted me what they kept safeguarded throughout centuries.


Apprentice Zhephra was one that respects her lineage, and one that understands the weight of her ancestor’s words. She imparted the knowledge of Force Whirlwind with a gift of a metallic sphere that was primarily used as a training method. And over the next few weeks we continued to train in such further and develop our proficiencies.

Throughout this time, I began to see firsthand that she truly seeks the prosperity and security of the Kalkoran powerbase, and she holds an unwavering devotion singularly towards Lord Trakaton that was no different than how the Kissai of Old revered their masters.

My path further ventured onwards with Neophyte Khatatas, an uncanny Sith Pureblood that was unorthodox. Throughout my time within the powerbase, he has consistently observed me and evaluated my aptitude, proficiency and mental capacity. Ordering a network of acolytes to spy on me, and attempt to gain more information and details about myself.

Some of these aspirants painstakingly attempted to find dirt on me, it was excruciatingly painful to watch these repugnant filths attempt at cunning. Even more so at their attempt to deny that they were ordered to do so. Some even thought themselves clever by misdirection, hoping that I’d suspect another superior. Even a loose collective of an acolyte alliance sought to beat me down and interrogate. I don’t think I need to explain as to what happened to them. Afterall, their broken bodies make for a better explanation.

I doubt he knows that I was onto him throughout this time, but it matters not.

His vested interests in me was one that lingered in examination. He needed to understand who I was. And the only people that does that are either the ones that wants me on their side, or the ones that are preparing to remove me as a potential threat. I was prepared for both outcomes. But I doubt he’ll ever be prepared for me.

Regardless, throughout out many encounters he would often provide riddles in the form of poetic verses in scripture. Something more in line with the framework of old mythologies. These often tested my ability of abstract thoughts and deep analysis, of which seems to gain his recognition overtime.

At one point he requested my presence within the meditation chambers as he began to demonstrate the depths of his prowess in Pyrokinesis. Manipulating the flames in such a way that I thought was inconceivable as I’ve never heard of such an ability before. He began his series of tests once more, inquiring about the philosophy of fire and my view of them. It seems he needed to understand whether I truly appreciate its depths, moreso than an ability to be possessed but understanding the severity of its design. After a series of grueling tests, he produced a smirked that was uncannily sinister though as to what it entails remains unclear to me.

Nevertheless, he began to impart the knowledge of Pyrokinesis as well as a lighter that had my initials engraved within it. The fact that there was already a lighter made with the specific initials of mine means that he had anticipated this encounter for a while, and had intended to pass on this lighter in preparation. Something that did not escape my notice, but moreso that it reminded me of the Lighter competition by Lord Sanguinis. It made me aware of a certain aspect of sentimentality within his psychological profile.

His endgame remains unclear, but sooner or later his scheme will be known to me.

It is inevitable after all.

Spoiler: Changes

Lord Sanguinis is an absent Master for the most part.

His machinations dwell on Valkara and I had to endure a neglect that was reminiscent to my father’s cold and detached demeanour. Most of the assignments and tasks were redirected towards me, whilst he imparts knowledge to his primed apprentice, gradually molding her through his design.

I nurtured a seething hatred for my Master that froze in the depths underneath the flames, for all the accomplishments that surpassed others in neighboring generations, the efforts of my toiling resulted in no tangible reward.

Parts of me emboldened a sense of envy towards Valkara; who in our isolated retreat would always speak with a hint of exhilaration and excitement of the new powers that became part of her arsenal whilst I listened attentively to her—recognizing that our Master’s sole focus is on tempering her.

She was changing—if not already changed.

I gazed at her features more delicately than ever before. As though her internal turmoil had reflected onto her visage, the once brimming radiance of her cheeks lost its colour as it paves its way into a more ashened complexion.

Gazing through those once brilliant blue eyes that began to cloud in darkened hues, I realized that I could not speak to her in the same manner I spoke to her before. Even when I attempted to open the subject of her former Jedi Master’s death, she retaliates from the pain and silenced any thoughts about returning to the Jedi.

She’s traumatized.

And in her broken state she finds comfort in submitting to the circumstances she finds herself in. It is ever so simpler to give in to your surroundings when your mind believes there is no option. And for her, there is no longer any alternative.

She gave up.

And somehow that alone crushed me more than any sense of remorse or guilt on my part.

The notion of hope was no longer what she believed it was. It became an invitation of more pain. More suffering. More losses. Her trauma was deeply rooted such that she fears hope itself, and any mention of it only serves to bring her further agony.

She was doing her best to cope with the misfortunes of the world, and while there were some salvaged moments of adaptation—there were still more questions and uncertainty that plagued her heart.

…I’m not the answer to these questions that she still has.

How could I ever provide hope when I have none myself? I cannot lead her to a place where I was lost myself.

In spite of my prodigious mind with all the vocabularies of the world, I was utterly speechless. I had no words to comfort her…

In my silence, I could only reach out and hold her hand gently as we gaze at the sunset that began to submerge itself behind darkened hues.

It is unclear how we would move forward from here.

But we will try and move forward together.