The servant that shuffled from the room was returning, and by this the Master was deep in silent thought and kneeling next to Aeylmaar. Being the only other Sith in the room not presently occupied, the servant turned to Panthar and bowed slightly. Behind him, walking through the doorway, were two uniformed guards and a robed Sith. The servant looked at Panthar expectantly.

Panthar sighed.

He walked quickly to the table of food, grabbed a piece of fruit for the trip, and as a quick thought he grabbed a yellow flower that served as a garnish. He trimmed the stem and ran the flower into his belt, and giving a satisfied nod he turned to Matt.

“Well then,” he said. “We’d better be off.”

Panthar tossed the fruit up and caught it again, taking a bite out of it as he did so. He walked through the portal and turned, waiting for the others to follow.

(((OCC: Panthar heads back to the swamps in Within the Web of Life in CSWU.)))

[ 08-15-2006 03:46 PM: Message edited 1 time, lastly by Panthar Dantares ]

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

I blinked, a little startled by events, as Panthar and his little Sith entourage disappeared through the Portal back to Dagobah once again. Matt stood a little ways back, staring at both the Master and Sissypoops as though he wanted to wring both their necks.

I wouldn't even think about going there, pal, I thought, trying to send that warning to Matt by the intensity of the look I was now sending him. Whether he got the message or not remained to be seen; sighing a little, I stepped away from Terrin.

"Go on now, go help them. It sounds like they might need all the brawn they can get."

I gave him a little push in the direction of the Portal, but didn't release him. Chewing my lip, I thought things over a bit more.

"On second thought, let me go help too. Can't say as there's much I can do to assist anybody here; Darra, you come along too, ok kiddo?"

Then with no further ado I marched to the Portal, now dragging Terrin unceremoniously along. Truth be known, I didn't want to be hanging around here in this musty old Temple with Sissy and the Master being the only Sith still on their feet. Well, except for Aeylmaar, but he was so wrapped up with his dear ol' daddy I didn't know if I could really count on him if anything untoward happened to happen.

Better the dragonsnakes on Dagobah than that! I thought with a shudder, recalling the absolutely reptilian look Jharmeen had cast Matt's way. Then I stepped through the Portal and into the web of life...

((OOC: Follow Galen back into Within the Web of Life in the "CSWU" forums, thank you.))

[ 08-15-2006 03:47 PM: Message edited 1 time, lastly by Galen ]

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Anchor him, do not let his spirit stray.

The Master then paused, gathering his own strength and will, then sent out a tendril of his own to touch the spirit of Aelvedaar, then along that link a surge of All power. The voices did not alter. He sent out another, slightly stronger, then another. Finally he let loose a pulse of All power, a strong signal to any who could sense it. The voices paused, then a whispered hush began to flow along that link, a whisper that grew in intensity as it came closer.

The Master braced himself, focusing on the things that made him strong. The will of his spirit, the love for his son, and determination that would indeed save the galaxy and place the Sith back atop the rule of the many worlds. The voices came to a crescendo all around him, calling to him.

Life begets life, it is all in the cycle

It was so simple. The voices, they knew their purpose in the grand cycle, and was good. Life is itself its own reason, and the perpetuating circle of life and death were the natural order of all in the fabric of existence. Mortality of one ensuring immortality of all.

Join us, be one with the cycle

Yes, we are all one with the cycle, one within the great and glorious scheme of existence. The voices are telling me this, they do not lie, they do not dilute the truth. They are giving to me the freedom that is eternal, the freedom that is my right…

The master pulled away from Aelvedaar, cutting the link. His body shivered and he slumped forward, falling to his side and rolling his legs up to his chin. He then trembled on the floor.

But to exist until my time is also my right, and by leaving this body before that time breaks that pact.

The voices remained strong, and the Master struggled hard to maintain his concentration. He managed to open his eyes, and saw Aeylmaar staring back at him, holding the hand of a calm Aelvedaar.

And perhaps Shawn's situation wasn't totally out of his control. Maybe, anyway.

As Galen pulled him along through the portal, Terrin turned to look over his shoulder to confirm what he already knew...

...Matt and Jasyn were both right behind him...

...so off they all went into the portal.

What was that one phrase Galen sometimes used? Ahhhh, yes. Same song, second verse...

(((OCC: Follow Terrin, Matt, and Jasyn into Within the Web of Life in the CSWU.)))

[ 08-15-2006 10:01 PM: Message edited 1 time, lastly by Terrin Danner ]

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I nod, then speak.

"What has been occurring during my foray into near-madness... and where is the remainder of our party?"

Something moves in the shadows of what I now recognize as being my Sanctum Sanctorum; something with hair that glints a burnished copper red...

[ 08-15-2006 10:37 PM: Message edited 1 time, lastly by Aelvedaar ]

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“My thanks to you,” he said. “Much has occurred, indeed. But the time for tales is short, for the Lady is restored and has pressing matters which require our assistance. Shayla is in her care, and the others are on Dagobah, via this portal, searching for the Jedi and Thoran.”

The Master’s eyes shot to Graysith, then back to Aelvedaar.

I grunt, turn back to Aelomir, peer deeply into his eyes, studying them intently.

"Yes, I hold the key to Lord Phalomir's retrieval," I state in a matter of fact voice. Then, my voice no less matter of fact, I continue.

"But I will not."

A slight movement captures the corner of my eye, and I slide a cautious look toward its source. I cannot help the slight movement of my jaw as I see the peculiarly pleased look she is now in the process of masking completely from her features...

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

Events began to click, and a feeling of stone cold dread niggled its way into his mind. He stiffened slightly, then turned his attention back to Aelvedaar.

My eyes narrow a touch, darken to molten amber beneath partly slitted lids.

"And why is it you wish him back with us with such pressing urgency?" I counter, becoming more and more certain by the moment that my action of placing the Lord in the Mobius time-loop was proving to be the correct one to have done at the time.

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

“He is my son,” he said. “As any father would, I wish him safely returned."

The Master looked down slightly.

“Under the influence of the darkness, I was responsible for many – terrible – things that were done to him. I need to see him, to ask for his forgiveness.”

The Master turned his head to the wall briefly, then faced Aelvedaar once again.

I counter Aelomir's eyes with my own.

"There is more to the Dark than what we have seen, my-- friend."

Another quick glance at the Dark Lady; she has turned away, seeming nonchalant. A slight frown creases my features, a small tremble thrills through me.

It is as if the very air is utterly alive, electrified.

"I can send you to him, to make your amends," I offer then, truly at a momentary loss as to who to completely trust, who to not. For the blackness was encapsulated...

...at least a part of it was. Lord Roan, by the use of the Nar Kelba had seen to that.

But no. A Nar Kelba.

And there was yet the matter of the dopplegangers, brought here by who, to disappear into where--?

I rear back, look upon Aelomir with great intent.

"I can send you to him, to make your amends," I repeat, staring deeply into his eyes, waiting to see if the understanding behind the words that I now speak will ever truly dawn in his own.

[ 08-30-2006 10:47 PM: Message edited 1 time, lastly by Aelvedaar ]

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“Well do I know the Dark, my Lord,” he said. “It was part of my being for a long time indeed, and it’s presence I can feel in the shadows of our world. It touched many, as it still touches some, but it is not present here with us today. Only those who have held the darkness in the past are among us here.”

The Master looked to Graysith, then back to Aelvedaar. He lowered his head and turned, looking at the designs on the wall as he stepped forward. He paused, standing near the humming portal, and turned back to Aelvedaar.

“Your judgment must indeed be based upon great wisdom, but I must offer my concern that one Dark Lord has done such a thing to another without explanation. I am sure the Dark Lady Graysith shares my concern, having crossed into the Darker Realms to save Phalomir, as he himself had done for her. I also regret that my personal grief over my past actions ways too heavily upon my mind, and my assistance to the Dark Lady Graysith is impossible without my son.”

The Master looked to Graysith, eyes deep.

She stared boldly down her nose at the Master, ignoring Lord Aelvedaar and his rising unease, letting her lip join her nostril in a curl of disdain.

"Your pitiful goal of Sith unity will never come about!" she finally spat, now stepping daintily back as if away from something dark that crawled on the floor.

"For my dear Master, you seem to forget. This tragic plan of yours depends not only upon your son, Lord Phalomir--"

A quick pause, a frisson of a shudder even more tenuous.

"--but upon me as well. And that is something you -- or he -- shall never obtain!"

With that, and before anyone could so much as blink, she quickly rent a tear in the fabric of reality and stepped through it back to her Adept's side on K'eel Doba.

It closed in her wake with an abrupt and peculiar finality...

((OOC: Follow Graysith back into The Saving of a Soul in the "Jedi/Sith" forums, thank you.))

[ 08-30-2006 11:33 PM: Message edited 1 time, lastly by Graysith ]

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“She has been touched by the Darkness, my Lord,” he said. “But she is not possessed by it, not under it’s control.”

He stepped away from the portal to Dagobah, and towards the Octahedron.

“I know your hesitance in returning my son to me,” he continued. “But you must ask yourself why, for I sense another motive beyond suspicion of the darkness that you fear is within him. It is not, I assure you. Not by my hand, at the least.”

The Master stopped and turned back to Aelvedaar.

"Enough!" I roar into the miasma which strives to fill my vision, the moment come and gone, now striving to reduce the volcano which has erupted so swiftly within me.

"Aelomir, you go too far!"

A timeless moment passes, one that I fill by turning away and striding heatedly away. For another moment I stand quiet, keenly aware of the shock radiating from Aeylmaar; then, my senses a bit more under control I turn back to the fallen Lord.

"You think yourself the Vessel of Knowledge when it comes to things of the Dark," I begin, my voice low and quiet but shaking with barely controlled rage. At whom--? That has yet to be resolved.

I swallow, strive for more self-control, and continue.

"I know more than you are aware of, my dear Aelomir. Enough to know that she indeed is held within the thrall of dark, perhaps at the control of another, perhaps not. Perhaps she has merely remembered who she is--"

I pause, snap my mouth shut, turn away even as the remainder of that sentence floats silently upon the crowded air:

--as I remember no one can take from me that which I have truly never had...

[ 08-31-2006 12:03 AM: Message edited 1 time, lastly by Aelvedaar ]

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“I know the Darkness has touched you, my Lord,” he said. “I admire you for your power of control, and for what you have done for the Sith. I apologize for my methods, but the truth must be known between us all.”

Aelomir walked to the center of the room once more, waving his bloodied hand over the Crystal Octahedron.

“The Lady was touched by the Darkness, it flowed within her spirit even as the Tower crumbled about us. I did not realize it at the time, I was coming to terms with my own freedom and knew not what I felt. But I had the thing within me, in control of me, and seared into my very spirit. It gave me abilities, powers beyond any which we have known. And with that came knowledge of things around me, things which I now share with you.”

“Roan,” Aelomir frowned, “or more the point, that which pretends to be Roan, has a Nar Kelba. He also has the only thing which could be used to combat it, that which he used in conjunction with the Nar Kelba to bring down the Tower.”

He looked directly into the eyes of Aelvedaar.

“But nothing eternal can truly die, it shall be reborn in a most foul way.”

He returned his eyes to the device before him.

“That is but one of our problems. Timelines are a thing of wonder, my Lord. I feel you know my lineage, and thus know that of Phalomir. I ask you one small favor, Lord Aelvedaar. You have before you the Crystal Octahedron, a device which I myself, in another time, have possessed. It is what led me to my studies, and to my successful understanding of time.

“You see, through actions of myself, and of others, we have been brought together in a splinter of our time. Timelines, though they may splinter and diverge, all struggle to steer back to the original plan. Sometimes they succeed, often times more they fail, and twist about in a frolicking rope of possibilities. Ours, however, is trying desperately. Gaze now into the device, see what I see. See how this timeline has steered itself, the fruit of passion already planted within one so bold as to deny the love she freely gave. See the beginnings of the Unity which she so vehemently denies is possible. See the true miracle that but one night of true love can produce, and why we must know her intentions.”

The foggy vision in the device cleared, revealing a dark liquid realm. Beyond the coursing rivers of blood, the myriad of bones and body tissues, sat a single tiny collection of cells. Connected by a single thread, it pursued its course of dividing cell after cell, growing eventually into something greater.

“It shall be male,” said Aelomir. “It shall be Sith.”

My hand, a fist tightly clenching my robes, leads me to Aelomir's side where I join him in gazing deeply into the Octahedron which is my creation. The briefest tremble courses through my body; then--

"You do not know her as I do, Aelomir," I open darkly, turning away from the tiny halfling embryo which even as I watch shudders into another division of itself. My hand unclenches, waves ambiguously, as if trying to push the image of the tiny babe away from me.

"You know her only from what this device has shown you, as indeed through a glass but darkly; I know her from years of studying, from reaching out and actively seeking, that you might now be here speaking to me as you do!"

I fall into a brief and embarrassed silence as images of love after love flow against suddenly unseeing eyes:

Wicked. Roan. Recinis.

Now Phalomir.

All come... and now, all gone. And with the exception of one, all Sith...

"In being Light, to love the Dark one cannot help but take it within oneself," I murmur in strange non sequiteur.

"And she would never accept my own as atonement for the path I had placed her upon."

Yet more silence fills my Sanctum Sanctorum, silence lightly punctuated by the soft sounds of footfalls. The awareness of a presence close by swells within me even as Aeylmaar drops a quiet and obviously sympathetic hand atop my shoulder. A garbled laugh bubbles forth from my lips; choking it back, I merely place my own hand atop his and turn back to Aelomir.

"You must understand; surely you already do--"

I peer into his eyes, searching deeply, running afoul only of this insane plan of unity which he carries so vehemently within. That sparks a touch of anger, neatly clipping me from my own rising self-pity; with a small snort I straighten, now once more fully in control of myself.

"She is what she is because I created her. She holds what she holds due to that. Don't you understand, Aelomir?

"She is Light... and she is Dark. Somehow both, separate yet united, one and one making one more powerful, more strong, like wavelengths amplifying. Not merely happiness exchanging momentary places with despair, or love with anger; no. it is more, it had to be more.

"Else she could not have that within her necessary to return our people to life."

I flounder; it is a strange sensation, this new inability to express myself. How to make him see? How to make him understand? Her pulling away; indeed, she has intentions of her own. But intentions not born out of hatred or anger or any other lesser human emotion.

Only pure and unadulterated Dark.

I shake my head, exasperated.

"Your plan for unity, this insane need to unite us under one Rule... it cannot be now, Aelomir. This--"

I wave my hand toward the image yet floating innocuously within the Octahedron.

"--will never allow that to be. She will never allow it to be. And--"

A pause now, for a fortifying inhalation of breath, the sounds of my own sorcerer clan comingling strongly with those of the armorers who share Khar Delba with me.

"The Sith will never allow it to be. I advise you to put such nonsense from you, to attend instead to this new threat, along with the approach of an enemy so terrible it will take the unification of the Galaxy to stop them.

"A galaxy which as yet is unaware of our existence within it again."

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

“No,” he muttered. “No, it has to be…”

He closed his eyes, shaking more. His hand went to his head as if he were in pain.

“From the main timeline,” he mumbled, barely heard by the others, “my timeline, there was unity – there was Phalomir, and Graysith, and their son. The hopes of all rested upon that – the triad within one – but, how? How could the timeline break so radically from that which had to be – unless…”

The Master’s eyes snapped open, showing clarity. He stared at Aelvedaar intently.

“You created her,” he said simply. “You reached forward, through time, and found her. You, from the past, and I, from her future… she has been touched by time in both directions – by the Greater Gods, Aelvedaar, she is more than what you say.”

The Master turned away, staring into the now blank Octahedron. His face relaxed as he thought deeply, a new resolve and acceptance entering into him.

“We both know the dangers approaching us,” he said. “I have seen it first-hand, which is why I am here now. I shall defer to your advice, and seek an answer to the invasion.”

He looked back to Aelvedaar, face hollow.

“It has been my task, my vision. Perhaps my tactics were flawed, but my resolve remains. I love my race, and I do not wish to see it end. Too much time has been lost already. Let us return to the basics which made us great, my Lord. Please, bring back my son, let there be a council of the Triad.”

I cut my eyes to Aelomir, but speak nothing of these trepidations.

"And who is to speak for the House of the Warriors?" I ask him, point-blank.

"As we know, my Chosen One is their Dark Lady. But to my knowledge there is no Lord."

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

Chewing my lip, I wave the image into obscurity and turn back to Aelomir.

"It would appear your one request will be fulfilled, and now," I state, bowing to the need of the Sith for True Leadership, leadership truly and direly needed now that we are in the timeline that we are, with what we know is soon to come.

With no further ado, I curl my middle and ring fingers against my thumb, extend the forefinger and pinky, mutter an incantation, and promptly release Lord Phalomir from the Mobius time-loop upon which I have placed him.

I do not wait to see his entry into reality once more, but turn away, going over to Aeylmaar and laying my hands upon his shoulders. Then, staring deeply into the eyes of my Chosen Son, I wait.

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

The group seemed to be lagging behind, and every second wasted was one more that Jharmeen’s spirit stayed in danger, and this infuriated Phalomir. The instant he decided to turn and speak was the instant the view of the distant temple turned into a view of a dimly lighted room.

He paused, momentarily confused. He jerked himself around, moving into a defensive stance. His eyes met the Master’s, who was staring happily. A maddening hatred filled him, and before he knew it he had launched himself at the Master. Phalomir plowed into the Master, wrapping his large hands around the smaller Sith’s throat. In an instant, he on top, and reared back his fist to strike. Then suddenly the Master was gone, leaving Phalomir alone on the floor.

Phalomir looked around frantically, and a donning realization as to where he was gave him pause. He stood, breathing heavily, meeting the surprised face of Aeylmaar with his own. He then realized it was Aelvedaar who stood with his back turned, and the Master now stood beyond, next to the wall.

“What is happening here?” he asked, surprisingly calm. “Aelvedaar?”

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

“Heavy words are difficult to bear,” said the Master, slicing through the thickening silence. “More so when one tries to explain actions that were wrong. You have been trapped by circumstance, my son, and have just been released from a prison you had no knowledge of. Do not blame Aelvedaar, blame only the Darkness which has beguiled and wounded us all.”

He stepped forward, closer to Aelvedaar.

“Hate me now, my son, but as you grasp what has happened you must come to know that we are all family, and we must be united in a cause. Think beyond what you feel for her, beyond your self needs, and listen without prejudice for a moment.”

The Master bowed to Aelvedaar.

“He will not believe me, my Lord, he must hear it from you.”

I bow my head, my grip tightening upon the shoulder of my Chosen Son, who adept that he is reaches up a hand to lay in comfort atop mine. But the realization that this cannot postpone any longer the words which need saying strikes a hard and chiming chord within me; I sigh and at last turn to face Lord Phalomir.

"The words of your father are true ones, Lord Phalomir. And now you must pay great heed to that which you might not wish to hear."

With no more introduction than that, I quickly and concisely inform him of all that has happened to us in his unwilling exile from reality, sparing no word or nuance...

...especially when the words I speak are of my Chosen One.

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

But the tale ended with the greatest horror of all for Phalomir. The Darkness had invaded Jharmeen, and had awoken that which Phalomir thought was gone from her. Now, according to Aelvedaar, she was beyond the struggle which Phalomir had witnessed within her mind, beyond the balance of dark and light, for she herself was that balance. And as Phalomir tried to understand what Aelvedaar had explained, he came to realize that this time his love could be truly lost.

He closed his eyes, his head dropping involuntarily. A tear formed in his eye and trickled slowly down his cheek.

Weak.

Always weak. Always knowing what is best for everyone, always putting yourself on the line for whatever little cause has come up today. Oh certainly, Mr. Big Magick can fry a few demons and make big whoopee light shows, but he is never strong enough to hold onto the one thing he cherished above everything else. That first step off the pedestal is a big one, but once it’s taken then that big marble post is pretty barren, isn’t it?

Pathetic. Just pathetic.

Think of reality, old boy. What you had with her is in the past – well, the future – but it’s past now. Your future ends in this lifetime, before you are even born – put that in your pipe and smoke it. So think about other things for a change, like maybe this little problem of the Vong, Or maybe the Empire hanging out around the Sith worlds. Yeah, the Sith. Remember them? Maybe they could use a little help, eh? Maybe you could be Dark Lord of a clan that has more than one member. Take up a hobby, whatever! It doesn’t matter! Just stop being WEAK!

Phalomir lifted his head, the tear drying in a salty line on his face.

“What are her intentions?” he asked. “This… Graysith?”

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