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28-04-2023, 08:34 PM
Entry VI: Family Matters
This time, Rhysand was seated cross-legged on the floor. The scene around him is chaos: behind him lies a corpse, and then another, in front of a partially-bent cell door. Yet, he seemed almost serene, his vibroblade laid across his lap as he slowly took a cloth over its edge. Meditatively, almost. He looked up from his work and his face told another story entirely. His sharp copper-gold eyes coloured a pale, eerie blue by the holographic display, are set in his face like diamonds, hard among sharp lines twisted by anger.
“The Matriarch is gone.” His voice is heavy with what seems to be a mixture of sorrow and clear-cut wrath. “I arrived here an hour ago, summoned by the Patriarch. It seems Apprentice Tse’kira, the Matriarch, gave up her life in exchange for that of her daughter, Sorzus Amanda Sekker. She was taken by an individual named ‘Lord Krodh’. Sith Zevasa and I are now the last remaining members of House Sekker actually capable of anything. Cousin Juhya is a Qel-Sekker: always lesser, and Amanda is a child."
Methodically, Rhysand continued cleaning his blade. “I won’t dwell on this. It is fuel to carry on; even if I understand the Patriarch’s rage. These,” He nodded to the corpses behind him, “Were his doing. A waste of resources, but I will not argue. Sometimes, anger must be let out. The apartments themselves are chaos. The upper floor is damaged: the figurines in the stairway are broken; a table has been shattered; windows are missing; and Force Lightning marks the walls.” The keening of the blade pierced the holorecording as Rhysand pulled the cloth across. [i]“I met Amanda. A baby. Is that the future of our House? I doubt it.
“Yesterday, I met an Acolyte Orgitas Dran. A soldier. He’s a brute of a man. He’ll do fine. Especially if he knows where his place is: under the yoke of the strong. The day before, I watched Lord Saltaeon in action. The Sith Warrior, she summoned for tests to join the Warrior Program. I am an Acolyte, but I went. She is a direct fighter; a user of Djem So, her strikes are meant to kill in a single move. I suppose I could find it beautiful. Even if Darth Horuset is my Master, Lord Saltaeon is one to watch.
“I also spoke with Sith Sarias, and asked her about punishment,” Rhysand raised the blade and inspected its edge. Humming approvingly, he lowered it and continued, reciting something. “It depends on the individual, Acolyte Rhysand, and the lesson being taught. The most common example is if it is a swift, direct punishment that has to be dealt where a simple application of pain and a reminder shall function. If it is a lesson I am conducting and someone is being unruly or if someone is interrupting it, the lesson may have to be more specific to ensure the message of not disrupting my work, is not only remembered but also sends the message for those surrounding it. Personally, one factor I consider before any punishment is given: is this person worth my time?"
“A few days later, we were summoned for a lesson in ‘Xeno-Anatomy’ by the Assistant-Blademaster, Apprentice Vipion, who explained some basic information regarding alien biology and how this will help. It was interrupted by Sith Kelsa, who pointed out the obvious: anyone dies if they are killed. Everyone bleeds if they are injured.
“The lesson itself was not the point, but rather who was in attendance. Sith Kelsa, and the Dark Lord Herself. Sith Kelsa seems an intelligent man, smart, and calculating. And the Dark Lord…” The Acolyte went quiet, a contemplative look passing over his countenance. “Her Presence is like a rolling cloud of darkness, like a wave of oppressive nausea. It is terrifying and beautiful to behold. When She departed, I rose and seized the opportunity.” Rhysand recites again: “For my standards, the Trials do not weed out enough ‘candidates’, boy. Convince one of my Apprentices you are worth speaking to, and I might consider it. Off with you.”
At that, Rhysand’s sharp features shifted ever so faintly into a subtle smirk. He continued cleaning his blade for a few moments longer before the holodisplay faded.
This time, Rhysand was seated cross-legged on the floor. The scene around him is chaos: behind him lies a corpse, and then another, in front of a partially-bent cell door. Yet, he seemed almost serene, his vibroblade laid across his lap as he slowly took a cloth over its edge. Meditatively, almost. He looked up from his work and his face told another story entirely. His sharp copper-gold eyes coloured a pale, eerie blue by the holographic display, are set in his face like diamonds, hard among sharp lines twisted by anger.
“The Matriarch is gone.” His voice is heavy with what seems to be a mixture of sorrow and clear-cut wrath. “I arrived here an hour ago, summoned by the Patriarch. It seems Apprentice Tse’kira, the Matriarch, gave up her life in exchange for that of her daughter, Sorzus Amanda Sekker. She was taken by an individual named ‘Lord Krodh’. Sith Zevasa and I are now the last remaining members of House Sekker actually capable of anything. Cousin Juhya is a Qel-Sekker: always lesser, and Amanda is a child."
Methodically, Rhysand continued cleaning his blade. “I won’t dwell on this. It is fuel to carry on; even if I understand the Patriarch’s rage. These,” He nodded to the corpses behind him, “Were his doing. A waste of resources, but I will not argue. Sometimes, anger must be let out. The apartments themselves are chaos. The upper floor is damaged: the figurines in the stairway are broken; a table has been shattered; windows are missing; and Force Lightning marks the walls.” The keening of the blade pierced the holorecording as Rhysand pulled the cloth across. [i]“I met Amanda. A baby. Is that the future of our House? I doubt it.
“Yesterday, I met an Acolyte Orgitas Dran. A soldier. He’s a brute of a man. He’ll do fine. Especially if he knows where his place is: under the yoke of the strong. The day before, I watched Lord Saltaeon in action. The Sith Warrior, she summoned for tests to join the Warrior Program. I am an Acolyte, but I went. She is a direct fighter; a user of Djem So, her strikes are meant to kill in a single move. I suppose I could find it beautiful. Even if Darth Horuset is my Master, Lord Saltaeon is one to watch.
“I also spoke with Sith Sarias, and asked her about punishment,” Rhysand raised the blade and inspected its edge. Humming approvingly, he lowered it and continued, reciting something. “It depends on the individual, Acolyte Rhysand, and the lesson being taught. The most common example is if it is a swift, direct punishment that has to be dealt where a simple application of pain and a reminder shall function. If it is a lesson I am conducting and someone is being unruly or if someone is interrupting it, the lesson may have to be more specific to ensure the message of not disrupting my work, is not only remembered but also sends the message for those surrounding it. Personally, one factor I consider before any punishment is given: is this person worth my time?"
“A few days later, we were summoned for a lesson in ‘Xeno-Anatomy’ by the Assistant-Blademaster, Apprentice Vipion, who explained some basic information regarding alien biology and how this will help. It was interrupted by Sith Kelsa, who pointed out the obvious: anyone dies if they are killed. Everyone bleeds if they are injured.
“The lesson itself was not the point, but rather who was in attendance. Sith Kelsa, and the Dark Lord Herself. Sith Kelsa seems an intelligent man, smart, and calculating. And the Dark Lord…” The Acolyte went quiet, a contemplative look passing over his countenance. “Her Presence is like a rolling cloud of darkness, like a wave of oppressive nausea. It is terrifying and beautiful to behold. When She departed, I rose and seized the opportunity.” Rhysand recites again: “For my standards, the Trials do not weed out enough ‘candidates’, boy. Convince one of my Apprentices you are worth speaking to, and I might consider it. Off with you.”
At that, Rhysand’s sharp features shifted ever so faintly into a subtle smirk. He continued cleaning his blade for a few moments longer before the holodisplay faded.
