Memoirs and Recollection of a Fractured Heart - Sovernus Nova

[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.