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A fate worse than death

#1
Shivers of excitement ran over Avestia’s body as she stood in front of the anteroom, taking a
moment to collect herself. With two steps at the time she had made her way up the stairs and
now she was out of breath while her mind raced to catch up.

Today was an odd day to say the least. It wasn’t a common occurrence that her father decided
to clear her schedule for the day, relieving her of the dull, tedious lessons she normally sat
through. Almost instinctually she reached for the sheath on her belt, reaching for the knife
she had started to carry with her ever since her last ‘special’ lesson, a gift for her fourteenth
birthday. While the knife hadn’t come in useful quite yet it wasn’t a bad tool to carry with
her, and at least its spinning in the palm of her hand provided some sense of distraction once
her teacher rambled on for too long.

Rolling her shoulders she stepped forwards into the round anteroom and calmly started
moving towards the door. Suddenly she halted as a sense of threat washed over her as if it
were a tidal wave. Something was seeping through yet she couldn’t pinpoint what it was, but
from a comfortable state she was suddenly put into an alert one, slowly walking into the
room.

As she stepped into the room it felt as if she had stepped into burning rays of sun. The
presence of her father was overwhelming and pressuring, completely wiping away the vile,
threatening presence that had seeped towards her. The Sith Lord almost seemed to radiate
confidence to the point of overconfidence, yet there was a zealous hint, the burning desire to
purge that which was considered wrong.

“Come to me, dear Daughter. Do not worry about the pathetic being at your feet, calling it a
beast would be a genuine insult to the majestic creatures.”


With narrowed eyes Avestia looked at her father, deciding to slowly circle around the brown
robes which seemed to be kneeling in the centre of the room. Past experiences had cultivated
suspicion towards her Father’s words, even more towards words that instructed her not to
worry about something or someone.

“What is it you want, Father?”

“Before anything, I want you to speak on the first word that comes into your mind after I
speak. The first word..mother.”
“Loved.”
“Asarul.”
“Brother.”
“Lord.”
“Threat.”
“Empire.”
“Home.”
“Republic.”
“Corrupt.”
“Sith.”
“Flawed.”
“Jedi.”
“Sanctimonious.”


Avestia had responded without hesitation and immediately on most words, though some had
taken a few seconds longer than the previous. The pair of crimson eyes were set on her father
before she turned away slowly, finally looking towards the thing on the ground which had
started shuddering and shaking.

“What is this thing here for, Father?”

She couldn’t hide the curiosity which threatened to push away the disgust in her voice. The
young noble wanted to know, desired to find out what was such a special occasion.

“He was Jedi. A knight that stood in my path in recent times.
Today he serves as demonstration for you. Not too long ago you questioned what the Force
could do that’s worse than death, and I understand why you question.
Death is the absence of life, the final act. As Sith we chase immortality and the ability to
make an actual impact, so when life is snuffed away it’s difficult to see it as anything other
than the end.”


For a moment he went silent before raising to his feet, towering above her. A towering symbol of
confidence.

“The task I just gave you was simple. It was basic association, connecting the first thought on
a word or subject to that word or subject.
This entire galaxy, our surroundings are immense. The mind of feeble constructs such as
ourselves simply cannot take it all in. Impulses, memories, colours, smell.
So instead of seeing things objectively we attach what we learn or see to something we
already know. But what if one was to twist such capability to associate?”


Avestia frowned at the posed question, trying to figure out what she was meant to give as
answer here. She wasn’t given the opportunity to answer though as her father stepped
forwards and reached out towards the man with the force. As if the mess of brown robes were
a puppet he sprung up, forced into a standing position.

For the first time she could get a proper look at the man and what she saw caused the hairs on
her neck to rise. In front of her stood a vicious, twisted animal rather than a sentient being.
The deep blue eyes of the Jedi were filled with distrust and pain, yet they weren’t aimed at
only her father which she had expected. Instead he looked around with suspicion as if the
very floor he stood on threatened to betray him at any point.

“Memories and existences are frail. While the manipulation of memory is something which
your mother is better at than me, this is my handiwork.
Instead of seeing his own name and being as himself, he doesn’t even trust his own body. He
will lash out at anything he can get in range of.
Instead of dreams he now suffers nightmares, he has no allies, not even himself. The walls
around him whisper of conspiracy against him, comfort is something he will no longer
remember the longer he remains in such state.
After all, how can he trust himself? Seeing as one memory turned out to be false, what works
as evidence that he can trust any other memory?
Even the first memories of his mother treating him with love are fake, or could possibly be.
It is devouring him from the inside and ultimately he will lash at himself, desiring to be
released from being unable to trust anything.”


Avestia could only stare at the man in horror, her eyes wide. She wanted to tear her eyes away
from the sight yet couldn’t, finding herself in a state of morbid curiosity. Her stomach was
filled with a heavy weight as if she had eaten lead, her throat dry as she went to speak. The
only thing she wanted to do was leave as fast as she possibly could, hoping to alleviate this
unpleasant feeling which had put its cold claws in her being.

“I see. Can I leave now, Father?”
“You may, should you desire to. Write me a report on two possible ways one can be caught
in such a state considered worse than death.”


After giving an acknowledging nod to those words she ran out of the room, bundling up in her
own bed to rid herself of the horrid feeling that had washed over her.
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Ongoing Crisis
War in the Northern Territories


The Balance of Power in the Northern Territories!

"The Northern Territories shift under the weight of changing times. With the passage of the ICOT, internal strife amongst Imperial Forces in the North has lessened - though never abated. Although the momentum of the Republic has not yet been met entirely, fortification efforts and victorious naval campaigns have evened the footing at least slightly. Eyes align on systems such as Vykos, Nam'ta and Orsus to see how this proceeds.."



((OOC: The Balance of Power system has begun! Missions that relate to grand changes in the Northern Territories will have an impact on the balance of power shown above, with the end result being that the balance of power's state at the start of the next war arc will determine how strong the Republic will be in the area. The balance of power can be pushing in our favour with bigger scale events aimed at taking the Republic down or fortifying ourselves in the North. This can be achieved through Operations, Adventures and Guild Events. The blue represents the Republic, and the Empire is red! This is organised by the Guild Team, so please direct OOC questions to them.))

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