--------------------

“Warriors?” it asked. “Dark Lord of Sith? Is am that what it is saying? If it being Dark Lord of Warriors, then it am being General Roan.”

A shivering clamor went up amongst the imps, as if the very name agitated them.

“And if it am being Roan, then we am saying ‘no more!’ No more am we fighting for you! No more am we fighting for Master!”

The imp paused, then drew closer.

"I would suggest a choice, before I lose my patience with the lot of you. Roan is the dark lord of these realms, and of the warriors, this is true. But of the normal world, it is by his chosing that I am dark lord. Will you come to the aid of General Roan and defeat his adversary? Or shall you stand aside and let his chosen do his work?"

--------------------

“Roan am not being lord of this realm, only one am being lord of this realm, and that not being Roan or Master. We am servants of one true lord, and if you am chosen of Roan, then you am enemy. Roan and Master friends, Roan leading army in name of Master. We hates both. We am hoping you friendly against Master…”

As I asked this, I gave every image of being relaxed and at ease, though within was a burning passion that was taut, and ready to be released.

With just any trigger.

--------------------

But beating it to the chase, was a small bit of intuitiveness and guile that I possessed. As I began to speak, I let a visage of feralaty that the demons possessed as well coat my expression.

"Turn against Roan? So that they both might be destroyed? To throw off my shackles and join you? That, I could delight in."

I looked up at the tower again, and gestured up with the hand that held the blade. "Let us siege, and slay the one that stands so close. Then, we shall deal with your old enslaver."

--------------------

“Yes,” it hissed gleefully. “But we am needing more, and more, and more to fights Roan. His is big army, and if we am showing we fighting good, maybe more will turn for us in battle. But we needs other things firstly. Roan is spirit, livings in spirit world. But him too strong to be like us, we can die-- means we go back to void and become one with all and nothing. But him, no him stay spirit. When spirit, nothing can kill him. Needs to be made into weaker spirit, weaker likes us. Then when we killing him, he go back to void, too.”

The imp stopped chittering, and became very serious.

But the Master’s arm would not beckon to this call, and he stayed unmoving, smiling. Initially caught off guard by the advent of the darkness, the Master had been controlled by it. But he was strong willed, and even now was learning to not only coexist with the dark skin, but to influence it in turn. At length the darkness stilled as well, calmed.

“With wisdom,” he said, “you shall be a great leader. There are times of great hardship at the doorstep of the galaxy, and the Sith shall lead the way to victory. You shall then find a galaxy at your very feet.”

The Master felt the pull again of the darkness, but he stayed it. No longer would his own plans be put on hold, for his was the just and true cause that would save the galaxy.

“Your life is clouded, and many secrets I would impart to you. But begin with a thought, and a choice. You have the makings of greatness, I have granted you the balance you deserve, the balance denied you by the tug of war between your father and mother. You shall feel the pangs of human emotions, the need for the love of another. But this shall cloud your instincts, and veil the truth before you. Balance means sacrifice, and you must answer with your heart the questions you will ask yourself.”

The Master smiled once more, this time the blackness around him moving as real skin.

"With me now, or never." I said, beginning to ascend the hill towards the tower, in all appearences as demonic as those I called to my will.

--------------------

Now over three hundred imps formed lines behind Rykounagin, and marched in time to his own footsteps.

The Tower loomed in the distance, dark and foreboding. The black sky seemed even darker over its spires, and ominous clouds devoured the space above it. The Tower itself was the central piece to the Dark Hall, the skull-shaped atrocity that housed countless ages of dark beings. The giant dark amber beam from the central crystal moved slowly across the realms as it rotated, seeming to seek out any who dare approach.

“The Guardian,” rasped an imp from behind Rykounagin. “There it stands!”

The imp pointed to the distant tower, its disheartening blackness looming. Even from this distance, the rotting carcasses of countless species could be seen hanging from the thousands of hooks and spikes jutting from the walls. At the foot of the skull-shaped structure stood an anomaly in this black land – a large figure standing perfectly still, covered head to toe in pure white and holding what could only be described as a giant pike.

The imp broke its stride and sidled next to Rykounagin.

"I will hear your test, and complete it, guardian of the tower." I spoke strongly, but my mind spoke a different line: and even if I do not, you will not stop me.

I gripped Evictus even more tightly, and waited for its response.

--------------------

Too great a waste of energy, energy I will need to depart from this place, the thought piped up within, pushing the remaining growls away by its surprising logic.

Instead she smiled, and blinked once.

"How do I feel?" she repeated, the tone of her voice one of musing, in obvious mockery of the Master.

"Why, I feel--"

She stopped abruptly then as a new wonder rushed down upon her, enveloping her with wings of liquid ebon.

I can feel...

No longer wrapped up in herself, the emotions she had held within were allowed to burst out. She suddenly found herself not only only capable of feeling, but that she was.

Her father--?

Undying devotion combined with a love bordering on that of infatuated selfishness.

Her mother--?

...

Cocking her head, she brought forth an image of her: long flaming hair, pale skin, brilliant violet eyes, short of stature.

Respect, she suddenly decided upon. Nothing other than that. Not yet. Not even in the face of the her supposed betrayal.

That errant thought brought her full circle back to what the Master had just told her; now she cocked her head in earnest, frowning a bit.

"I have no hatred toward either of my parents," she finally said, her frown darkening a bit more.

"You lie; there is no betrayal. I have no idea where you get this idea, but I will not listen further to such nonsense.

"And as for a galaxy being laid at my feet, why--"

Again, another pause. Again, an innate, inward scrutiny. A sensing, not seeing. A feeling, not reacting.

A solid certainty.

"It is already there. I do not need you for it."

--------------------

“It is only certain,” he said at last, “if a series of events fall into place. A true Sith, you are, dear lady, to expect the galaxy to throw itself to its knees before you and worship the dust between your toes. The harsh truth is, little one, that the Sith are not even known to exist in this galaxy of yours. Your troops are out of touch with the sort of warfare they shall encounter now, and the magicks which once brought fear into the hearts of systems now barely extend their influence upon your own people. No, child, you are not receiving a gift – you are receiving the opportunity to take something, but you need assistance.”

The Master lowered his head, keeping his eyes trained on ShaRhylla. His mouth tightened into a half-smile.

Only secrets shared with her father, in a white room full of tall, graceful people she did not understand.

As she did not understand now. But not understanding why she had no childhood memories did not mean she pined for them; one cannot, after all, miss as something lost a thing one never had.

She straightened further and looked the Master straight in his baleful, red eye.

"I do not recall such a childhood as you speak of," she said firmly. "Furthermore, it is of no consequence, for what I do remember is Father telling me that I was special, destined for greatness. I needed not the frivolity of youth, as do some.

"He made me whole enough."

She blinked as the last words slipped from her mouth, surprising her for the ease with which they had crept out from an unknown portion of her being. They hovered about her head, halfway taunting, halfway protective.

For a moment she wavered, then chose the latter course. Drawing in a deep breath, she turned away from the Master and walked to the nearest wall. It was cold and oily to her touch, and gave beneath her hand in a manner unpleasantly reminiscent of decaying flesh.

A ripple susurrated through her.

She ignored it, and turned back to the blackened being.

"You do not care one whit for me, do you?" she said, once again surprised with herself.

"You wish this power for yourself, do you not? You wish the galaxy to fall at your feet, not mine, is this not true? Else why would you have taken me from my husband, and brought me here, a prisoner.

"It is not for my sake that you speak to me as you do; it is for yours. And you need me to obtain this power, don't you?"

--------------------

“I seek not power,” he said. “For power I have. What I seek is something you would not understand. It is maddening, playing the part I have. Deep within me is the sadness of a father who betrayed his son for the secrets of the galaxy, only to have those secrets destroy all that the father was. Also within me is knowledge of things to come, and things that have been, and the myriad of possibilities that change with every tick of the clock.”

The Master took a step towards ShaRhylla.

“You know not who I am,” he said softly. “Yet the dark powers which enrich me are well acquainted with you. Memories, feelings of – longing. They permeate me as much as the power they give. I have no intent to separate you long from your husband – but I do entreat you to consider who it is that gave him to you, and why.”

The Master reached his hand out towards her, then paused. He retreated a step and turned his head.

"Save the galaxy? From what?" she asked, ignoring the reference the black entity had made, oh so obliquely, regarding Entaris.

--------------------

“Oh great one,” it hissed. “It guardses the only ways in to the Dark Hall. No taskses, it asks you questions, in the heads, and you answers. If you knowses, you go in. If not, well…” The imp grabbed its nearest comrade and threw it towards the guardian. The huge being shone brightly, spreading its white light into the surrounding area and making the imps jump and weave. It looked down from its head, towering 8 feet higher than the hapless imp, and seemed to burn its vision into the demon. A moment of silence passed, and the imp stared blankly at the guardian. It twitched, shuffled its feet, and looked nervously back at the imp who had thrown it forward. Finally it turned its head back to the guardian.

“Seven?” it said with trepidation. The guardian, in the blink of an eye, drove its massive pike into the imp’s body and hurled it backwards, sending it flying upwards until it smacked into the side of the Dark Hall, impaled upon a huge bone jutting out from the macabre building.

If I were to fail at this moment I would die, and my world would be lost. My love could fall prey to the beast within the tower, and who knows of the other things I now had sway over.

It was a point of no return, a place where nothing in the future was certain, only one absolute existed:

To do, or to die.

Had that not been how I had lived for the past two years?

I smiled, and stepped towards the guardian, knowing from watching the guardian that the query would come to me without a word from it. There was a long, long silence, as its question filtered through me, teasing at me, prodding my thoughts.

There were so many answers to it, so manythings, that longed to draw upon my emotions, upon my pride and my faults, upon my knowledge and my ignorance.

I knew that I knew the answer, for it was not a simple question that always had an absolute. But I knew the absolute, and I feared it. I did not want to admit it. I had never wanted to admit it, and had sworn long ago that I would never believe it or say it...

But even as I readied myself for a firm answer, one that the pride and ego of a Sith Lord could be expected to give, a voice seemed to whisper in the back of my mind. It scolded me for being so selfish, for doing what I wanted when I was not the only thing that would lose if I failed.

Was that really worth it? To go out with pride at the sacrifice of so many others, including the one I most loved?

Is not humility, and Martyrdom the sign of the greatest man?

I bit my lip slightly, then opened my mouth to speak slowly. "I am..."

The words caught in my throat, and I saw the demon shift in readiness to destroy me upon my answer, if it were to be wrong. But I forged ahead, and spoke as clearly as I could manage.

"...Inadequite."

I had said it. Voice my greatest fear and greatest personally acknowledged fault. Now all I had to do is see if that was the right answer, but at what expense? Would I pass through or die knowing that I had destroyed myself more than his spear could?

--------------------

The guardian returned its pike to its original position, then looked to the next demon in line, pointing its long armored finger at it. The imps looked to one another nervously, chittering. The first imp in line looked pleadingly to Rykounagin, then looked back to the guardian, then turned and bolted as fast as it could into the darkness beyond. Imps by the dozen turned and scattered into the night.

"Such is the way of darkness..." I murmured, holding Evictus more tightly now, slowly proceeding, my mind stretching further than my body's restraints in a mental call to my loved one.

However, as I moved deeper, it seemed that not only caution, but a tangible feeling of darkness was pressing in on me, smothering my thoughts as best it could.

--------------------

The Lord ignored the annoying sting, the whimpering growls, and merely tightened his clawed fingers about the hapless thing's throat.

"You disgust me, all of you!" he snarled, squeezing tighter with each passing word until a muffled snap reverberated into the dark.

He threw the demon off to its pack and got to his feet with a grunt.

"I have trained you to be stronger than this!" he shouted out from his perch, veritable flames of wrath leaping from his mouth. Far below his demonic horde slavered and drooled, bowing and scraping to him.

He might be lord over his foul Tower, but I have these--

"Worthless whelps!"

Yet another snarl cracked from his lips as he stood above them, hands fisted on his hips, his legs apart as he stared down at the pack of imps. They in turn strove to appease his anger by attempting to form into ranks, trying to coordinate themselves into one entire whole which, if created, would indeed be something too horrific to stop.

They managed the feat for a moment... and then dissolved into myriad snapping, yapping individuals.

Roan sighed, his vision growing darker by the minute. Then his eyes narrowed as another thought struck.

My son has strengths within him; perhaps with his aid these ridiculous creatures will be beaten into something close to being disciplined!

Thus it was that he reached out along the Link he had formed with Rykounagin, just in time to "see" his interaction with the Guardian of the Black Tower. Through Rykounagin's own eyes he sensed his entry therein.

The lad has courage and honor, I'll grant him that much, he thought, knowing he could not go to his aide physically, knowing as well that he was in the most dire of danger.

But he does not yet have the power he needs.

A whisper wafted from his synapses, through the ether, into Rykounagin's brain, seeking out every cell, every neuron, every electrical bypath.

"Remember the Channeler, son, that I would deign you not touch. It can help you in your time of need..."

He fell into a mental silence, the wails of the slobbering demons utterly lost to his ears.

[ 05-15-2006 11:04 PM: Message edited 1 time, lastly by Dark Lord Roan ]

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As powerful as it is, it is no tool! Time and time again I have encountered it and found nothing but betrayal and hate within it! It seeks to work only for its own purposes!

As I spoke, I saw that the staircase was leveling out, the doorway about a hundred yards up the steps. The darker realms did seem to like being extra-dimensional.

I will not use such a thing! I will not become its pawn!

As I progressed up the stairs, the stairwell seemed to be growing smaller, crushing in; even more evident when tendrils of the structures "flesh" began to reach out at me like the claws of demons, to tear at my flesh and keep me from my goal.

My next words were spoken and transmitted as with a fury I gathered my own magical energies and thrust with my blade at the claws, which quickly were pressing in closer upon me, threatening to overwhelm me.

"Love... and faith... is strength enough!"

With a broad sweep of magical energies, I sent a rush of cleansing flame about the passage, causing the walls and tendrils to recoil away, opening the path as I charged up the steps, determined that the master would accost my love no more.

Even better: Would no longer draw another accursed breath.

--------------------

Kreesha, dishonored at Her hand, dead by His.

His anger erupted into pure, molten wrath, blinding him for the moment, constricting within his chest. Beneath his feet the imps took note, and fled yowling into the blackness of the beyond.

With great effort he forced his anger, if not likewise to flee, to at least simmer down a touch until he could think again. Drawing in a deep mental breath, he brushed outward again, seeking Rykounagin.

Do not place so high a regard in this thing called Love, my Son, he sent forth.

It would make weaklings of the strong, and destroy that which we desire. Only power, power and strength, truly prevail over the worst of adversaries, the most trying of times.

Heed the words I send you, and remember the touch of R'lous. It will assist you when you call, this I promise you.

[ 05-16-2006 12:33 AM: Message edited 1 time, lastly by Dark Lord Roan ]

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---

The darkness returned quickly as Rykounagin’s flames dissipated. The walls expanded, making more room for his passage, until they withdrew into a chamber before him. As the walls moved away, four large shapes emerged from them, as if deposited by the walls during their regress. Each black shape dripped thick ooze, until almost in unison tails whipped from the back of each object, wings extended, and the humanoid shapes of four demons now stood before him.

Unlike the imps Rykounagin had encountered outside the tower, these demons looked remarkably like human females. But these demons bore wings, whip-like tails, red skin and piercing black eyes. Moving with discipline, two assumed an action stance before him, waving their horrible tails above them, ready to strike, while the other two moved slowly to either side, flanking. Claws extended, jaws snapped, and dark saliva dripped from incredibly sharp fangs as each being watched their prey with steel cold eyes.

One of the flanking demons swooped its tail in a lightning strike, passing centimeters over Rykounagin’s head. The wind brushed his hair, and a cold chill permeated his scalp. The demon sneered, its saliva falling to the floor and hissing as it bubbled where it struck. The hissing seemed to grow louder for a brief second, leaving a whispered word in Rykounagin’s ear:

Leave.