Final Thoughts

[Lord Iezkon]

''Books.... Books are nice, aren't they Serexil? With just one sentence you can get lost in all sorts of dreams. The way I think of it, literature allows the reader's consciousness to deeply relish the author and be closer to them. And so... we freely walk around the world of the story from the yarn spinner's point of view. It is only when you immerse yourself in the world of a book that you are able to forget just who you are. And now.... I am left to wonder, would it have ended differently had I never touched his journal?''

''I'll join your mother now. We'll wait for you.''

''Why did I say that? Am I still trying to comfort her? Trying to nurture her? Why am I not fighting back now? It must be your mother's influence on me all those years ago.... Your mother.... yes, what was her name again? Kharyssa I believe. She shone as bright as the Horuset sun, her heart was burning with righteous indignation, and she lit the fire I ran on. Carry it on for me... will you?''

The blade of deep crimson swung through. Eyeless visage traversing through the air and on its way towards the harsh, cold ground.

''And now... the curtain closes. Our performance ends, The stage is veiled. Our audience applauds. We have brought them an opera of despair and a song of hope. Breathe in the atmosphere, Cerberus. Continue your work... you will be poetry. You will be beautiful.''

''It's done, go... Get out of my sight.''

''I led me by the hand, as if to fill the niches in the memories in my oozing brain fluid. Without even a destination, we kept walking. Disgusting clouds were floating in the sky, a familiar sight. I know I already know I won't wake up this time.''

A soft thud came through as an unknown figure dropped to their knees. They were so close.

''My severe injuries had healed and the sweet taste of blood coated my mouth. I kept walking, my goal vague...trying to dispel the building unease in my chest... Upon entering an open area was the scent of rotting flowers and in the middle of the flowerbed, he stood... Without anyone saying a thing, without his name given, like an unsolved puzzle falling into place by itself, just by seeing that figure, I--understood exactly who I faced. Tsudama. The undefeated third. A cold, vivid gaze. There, stood the Warden of Death. Why was it that I was seeing beauty in death rather than life? Strangely, I thought he was beautiful... Disoriented, I had failed to comprehend the scene before my eyes. It was not anything like flowers but a large amount of "Death". Had he done this alone? No matter how I tried to rouse my will to fight with hatred, more than sorrow, more than rage, the emotion that arose within me was despair. Because I knew my ‘turn’ was next...''



(*Post by Luca/Khatatas.*)

[Lord Iezkon]

With all stories, there's a second perspective.
Tarati, in the moment of Razias'' death

Death, death is the eternal currency of the Dark Side, the unending task it’s followers are given to carry out. Yet killing brings me no joy, no pleasure, it’s just a task. The task of the Dark Lord is just another chore when done righteously, there’s nothing more to it. I allowed you to speak to me Khatatas Ronith, I don’t regret giving you this chance. But I regret allowing you to fall this low, with a daughter weeping to your death, the stench of weakness.. but I’m glad you have a family where I have none. I couldn’t allow you to show further weakness. You had a debt to pay, and I’ve been tasked to collect it, nothing else.

I swipe, my mind and body going in perfect union as the crimson connect with crimson. His head falling to the side.. all remaining being the body of a decapitated snake.

Raeniu, my friend.. forgive me. Today I took one of your kin out of rage. My anger, the anger I call the Dark Lord's wrath.. the anger which is supposed to justify the things I’ve done. It doesn't matter, maybe I should have stopped? My conscience is telling me to stop... but I cannot relent. Join your family Khatatas, at least you have one.

"I recoil, I’m bleeding? No, I can’t be bleeding. None have drawn their blades, but... I’m bleeding. My mind feels sore, the Dark Side demanding control, it wants me to surrender, crushing in on my brain. I -refuse-, you will never have me again, fiend."

I want my revenge, against my master.. against all those who stand before me. I want them to see what we are, nothing but slaves. I want to see everyone around me fearing the Dark Side. Soyut, is this what you gave me? I still see it you know? The fire, I still feel it. The fire, the fire of the phoenix... I could have died that day, maybe I should have.. but the fire is still burning and thanks to you, I realized my chains.

"The pressure is harder now, whispers and an intense pain crushing down in my heart, ears clogged, nose clenched, throat convulsing. The ears are ringing now, the heartbeat is all I hear and a voice.. a voice to let go."

I’m not your tool anymore, Trakaton Kalkoran. I’m the tool of the Dark Side, the only thing that’s absolute, it is beautiful and my only true companion. Your words pierce the fog, the festering wound. I expect nothing but spite. I will strike you down if you seek to comfort me, I will let go if you do. The moment you left me alone, I was alone, no friends, no lover, only me and my power. My words being lost in translation, my words weak without power. You demand my loyalty by forcing me to become something I am not. My Apprentice Maerina, I miss you. The Master learned something from his Apprentice after all.

"My ears scream a pitch louder, drowning out my thoughts and words. The seductive voice of power forcing itself in. I push it out, I have to push it out."

I am Tarati, servant of the Dark Lord and the Dark Side and I will not relent! Forget about Cerberus! Let it be a memory and a name who brings joy and nostalgia. Not.. this.

The voice slowly goes, like a knife in my gut, it remains. But when I looked down, there’s nothing there. It’s a wound I cannot grasp or heal. I am marked, marked by a choice. A chapter closes, and a new one begins.

---

Spoiler: A message for the player behind Razia.

I wish to thank you for the years we've had together. The RP that was done and the progression that we did together isn't something that I will forget. I wish you a good and a bright future with more RP to come. A chapter may have ended, but a new one has begun for both of us.

Thank you, we started together from Acolytehood and now gotten to Sith-hood. Thank you, and enjoy the rest of the trip that is yet to come.

(*Post by Tarati.*)

[Lord Iezkon]

The one left.

Everyday a story ends. Even the greatest titans fall, but their feats aren’t lost. While they might have been the protagonist, a pathetic side character can have their completely independent plots that lead into the conclusion but all the same. If the protagonist dies that’s where the real story ends, sequels and rewrites tend to tack on importance to such minor characters that always end poorly.
That was what she was. A comic relief who watched a protagonist and antagonist clash for a finale that she understood little of the why, she’d only saw that the story end, the fact she lived even after her hero was dead was a testament that this life wasn’t like the stories she’d grown up with. It was a hopeless uphill battle where people just seemed to die, deserving or undeserving, a titan or one at their heels.
It was only when her Father; a great man was murdered before her did she see this. His final words.

''I'll join your mother now. We'll wait for you.'''

Will always echo throughout her mind. A profound thing that for all her ability to write, she could never have said. It was a curtain call fit for the best of story and all she had managed in response was a hollow threat, one she could never live up to. Why didn’t she have something profound to say and why not that she loved him. Why did she swear to continue a cycle and attempt fulfill her own story. The masked Sith had been right, she was pathetic.
Instead of letting him pass with sentimental final words she’d made a threat. She could never live up to Khatatas Ashana, the man beneath the façade, even if he was fallible. Her Father she’d never be able to tell she loved again and in the end as the oldest Ashana she was what would seem to most, finally the protagonist.
Serexil wished she still had heroes.


(*Post by Sam Uvac.*)