"SHAYLA!!"

The single word erupted from her lips as well as singeing her mind as a wave of searing pain and utter confusion blasted through her via the Link she maintained with her Adept. Her mouth gaping open in her own brand of confusion, Graysith blinked, shook her head, disconcerted to discover that whatever had hit had done so with enough force to fling her completely over the arm of her throne to then sprawl unceremoniously at its side. She quickly raised herself on one elbow, now finding the Link ominously dark, as if it had been snipped from existence. Frowning, she reached out to re-establish it... only to be met with that awful wave of pain and confusion once again.

"Shayla--!" The name slid from her lips in a growing aura of horror and fear, a wave which propelled her to her feet in an instant, her one hand going to rip a tear through the fabric of space and time. Still shuddering from the impact of whatever it was that had stricken her, she stepped through the Portal--

--and into utter chaos.

All around, flames licked the darkening city in every direction, casting it in an eerie and terrible glow, like that of hell-fire itself. Sith ran hither and yon, some carrying possessions, some attending to others; a wheeled water-wagon harnessed to a pair of barely controlled Kashyyyk katarn rumbled past, one Sith warrior holding the pair of snarling beasts to his will as the other sprayed water in the attempt to put out some of the spreading fires.

Another shudder racked the Dark Lady's frame; tears filled her eyes to see her beloved city thus consumed, it's people, young and old, male and female, all innocent, being confronted by this hell which had erupted from out of the blue. One hand raised instinctively, taking energy from the very air, air heated many degrees higher than normal, air now holding more water vapor within it. With a twist she took more of the energy, watching with stunned detachment as the air cooled, the vapor within it condensing to form rain which began to fall heavily, snuffing the fires.

Turning about, the rain falling on her face to mix with tears of anguish, she spied two forms, heavily burned. One she could only recognize as being Sith by his horns only, for as she watched he groaned, rolled onto his back, displayed the fact that he had been facing the brunt of whatever had set the fires.

She could not recognize his face.

But as for the other--

"Shayla--!"

One hand flew to her lips as she flew to the side of her fallen Adept and Chosen Sister. Shayla had been standing sideways to the force of the igniting disaster; one side of her bore terrible burns, her beautiful golden hair singed completly from her head in mute testimony of the fact. Graysith fell to her knees beside her, horrified at the extent of the injury, heartened yet horrified even more to see that the eyes Shayla turned to her were open, if not completely aware of what was happening.

The pain, oh the pain--!

Now she too could sense it: great searing waves of fire which raced up and down her own side, brought to her by the Link she maintained with Shayla. A simple thought could disconnect that link, immediately eliminating the pain from her own system, but that would mean leaving Shayla alone in her agony. This was something she simply would not do.

"I am here, my sister. Do not fear; all shall be put aright--"

Reaching out to gently stroke Shayla's unburned hair from the other side of her face, she smiled into her shell-shocked eyes. Then she gently placed her arms underneath Shayla's body, making certain to provide a protective padding of air between herself and the young woman that no further pain would be brought to her by the action. Grunting, she regained her feet, stood a moment staring about.

Kelvendar groaned nearby, his movements feeble and instinctive. His head lolled in her direction, colorful eyes staring at her in an almost accusing manner.

"You too shall be healed, my faithful subject," she said softly, then making another portal through the All. Grunting even more, for the talents she was using did not come freely or easily, she then created a denser mat of air beneath the fallen Sith, raising his body from the ground where it hovered beside her.

Accompanied by the moaning Kelvendar and carrying her awful burden, she stepped through the Portal to the only place she could think of where Shayla's life might be saved:

Directly into the sacred Inner Sanctum of the Dark Lord Aelvedaar, deeply hidden in the Temple of the Sorcerers in the city of Choyapenthe on the sister planet of Khar Delba.

((OOC: Follow Graysith, Shayla and Kelvendar into The Silence of the Lambs in the "Jedi/Sith" forums, thank you.))

[ 08-11-2006 02:48 PM: Message edited 1 time, lastly by Graysith ]

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Once again Graysith stepped out into chaos, although by now that chaos was descending into a little bit of orderliness. The fires had been put out, the injured Sith taken away for healing, while others busied themselves with general cleaning up of broken storefronts and windows and such.

She stood in the street by the entrance to the tram, stared down into it's blackened and cracked depths. Pursing her lips, she turned briefly away, ripping open another portal through which she could return the sleeping Shayla to her chambers. Once there, she laid the young Adept gently down on her immense and softly apportioned bed, covered her with silken sheets, leaned forward and kissed her on the forehead. A single gesture sent a merry flame dancing in her fireplace as she then straightened, going to a bell-pull which hung in one corner.

Moments later, a lady-in-waiting arrived, curtseying politely and inquiring what she wished. Since no great detail needed to be given, she ordered the servant watch over Shayla, that Temple Healers come stay in the outer rooms and check on her progress, making sure nothing more happened to her. Guards were ordered to stand without the door, and out upon the balcony as well.

When all was as she ordered, she went ot her wardrobe, drew out her cloak of rune-encrypted smoke and, drawing it about the robes of state she yet wore returned to the scene of the explosion, and after a moment descended the scorched and blackened stairs to the boarding platform. There she stood, her identity hidden in the folds of her cloak, standing silently and overlooked as Sith hurried here and there trying to remove the damaged transport.

She descended further, carefully picked her way to the very tracks of the transport system, stood there looking down into the darkness that stretched all the way to Ch'arlingua. It seemed that perhaps, just perhaps, the farther down the track she could see before it disappeared into gloom, the lesser the damage seemed to be...

Here was where the explosion occurred, she thought to herself as she turned about, now carefully scrutinizing the tracks and the front of the transport.

This vehicle took the most damage; the explosion was set...

Something caught her eye, truncating her thoughts. Frowning, she moved to see what it was.

Strands of long white hair, scorched a bit on the ends, lay like limp white eels upon the blackened tracks. She drew in a swift inhalation of breath, nudged the strands with one toe, another kind of fire now flaring within her being.

Rykounagin!

Reaching down, she took up the hair, tucked it away in a pouch hanging upon her waist. Then, yet unobserved by the bustling Sith, she opened a portal and returned to the Temple of the Sorcerers on Khar Delba.

((OOC: Graysith returns to Silence of the Lambs in the "Jedi/Sith" forums, thank you.))

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I glanced about the starport, and picked the ship that was most fitting to my experience, one of the ships I had oft used before, a sith starfighter. I keyed the sigil at the base of the entrance hatch, and waited for it to decend, quickly embarking and sealing it.

I sat at the controls, and began to flick and tap at the sigils and runes that controlled the craft, which quickly rose at my command and shot from the star-port. I circled around to fly nearly twenty-kilometers over the surface, and observed the landscape, the trail still clear in my mind, the message having long reached its destination.

Drawing up a pointed scan of where the dust ended, a curious image came to the screen of which I purused. A temple? Well that is odd... but it seems to be where my love has secreted herself away.

I chuckled at a key word in that thought, that being "love". Such a word was only lies.

It seemed that lies and I were becomming fast friends. But then again, like luck, lies were fickle friends, and hated being asked for favors.

I smirked, and keyed the controls to arrive at the temple. All to soon my love... all to soon.

I got up from the controls, and moved towards the back of the ship, conjuring a small blade to my hand, having some unfinished business with the remains of my hair.

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She paid little heed to the fact that the temple bore no light; what needed she of light? What was there to see? Nothing, nothing to see, only something to feel: that had become the entirety of her existence now, hatred and anger, rage and lust for vengeance, all the darker emotions the Jedi fought so assiduously to repel coming to her in a glorious rush of simple primal being.

She had become rage. It was her heart. Hatred her foundation, icy determination her mind. Her bi-colored eyes flared, sparking as if to penetrate the night within as it penetrated her, bringing images that had been carefully locked away within her, images of Entaris, the black tar-being, the Dark Tower, the Realms and what they promised.

He left me, too.

The fact only solidified the hardness she was becoming. A newly formed crystal of ice encompassed another inch of her being; she snorted, now running through her head images of everyone that she had ever known.

Her beloved and deathly Dark Heart -- used her.

Her mother -- undoubtedly planning the same.

Her father -- yet in the process of doing so.

Rykounagin--

Why?

For a moment the question halted her in her tracks, wonder worming through the icy shield she was bit by bit becoming.

Why? What was it about her that provoked such, that made her so easy a candidate for the use of others. Was she so needed a tool in the affairs of others?

No more.

Her eyes flashed in the darkness and she clenched her fists, driving her pearly nails into her palms, feeling them slice deeply to release steady rivulets of blood. That blood dripped from her fists, staining the clothing she wore, dropped to the floor of the Temple.

Somewhere there was a satisfied moan.

Her lip curled and she drew in a fortifying breath.

They shall use me no more, for I shall-- I shall--

Exactly what she would do was beyond her ken, her ability to formulate, for no strategist was she. She was a creature of the moment, of emotions, a true reactionary now held in the thrall of growing darkness.

One with a power she didn't know yet how to fully control... which made her far more dangerous than anyone could even begin to imagine.

But the Temple knew. It sensed. It chuckled darkly, reached out, touched her again and again and again. An image of a being, half-Sith, half-feline, fully feral and wild beyond imagination formed briefly in the deep shadows, gibbered and chortled and growled.

ShaRhylla wasn't aware of this either. Her only world now was darkness, darkness flooded with hatred and icy rage and determination and wanton lust for vengeance. More and more the reason for the latter was bending to the encroaching dark, being swallowed up by it, leaving only the simple need to lash out and kill.

Growling and snarling herself, she continued to stalk the dark halls of the Temple of S'slan, becoming more and more dangerous by the minute.

And even more dangerous, remaining utterly and completely sane.

[ 08-13-2006 12:43 PM: Message edited 1 time, lastly by ShaRhylla ]

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The air was fresh and cold upon my scalp, and without hesitation, I moved towards the temple's entrance, the trail I had created shining in my minds eye to lead me inside.

I stepped through the doors into the chill of the temple, and suddenly everything as alight. My flesh caught flame, my hair melted over my flesh, turning it pale as my flesh pealed away to reveal nothing by my skeleton beneath my skin. I screamed as my eyes were torn from my body by an unseen force, my last vision the creature I had become as with an unending shriek I died and became nothing but rot.

A moment later I jerked up from the floor upon which I collapsed, and looked at my hands. For a moment, I saw nothing but the blackened skeletons of their remains, but then flesh came to view and I gasped, breathing hard, the dark spirits of the temple swirling around my, laughing silently at my pain as I slowly dragged myself up.

I breathed hard as I glanced about, the shadows shifting about, playing tricks upon my eyes as faces loomed and vanished. Just.... just the imagination.... nothing more... I took another shuddering breath, and began to walk deeper into the temple, following the trail.

Little did I know that with every deeper step I took, the more twisted the shadows in the corners of my mind would become...

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The Spirit of the Temple that was S'slan drew away and back, into the shadows, and from there grew very still save for the wisps and tendrils of itself it let creep out, to beguile in the case of the one, and to instigate fury in the case of the other.

How delicious it would be. To push the fault of her mother in her face. Sending someone to kill me, to destroy me, to end me? Foolish... I would destroy them all... I already had ended the line of one... now for the next and the next.... they could help me do it or become the next victim in the line... how sweet... what would my little dead rose be? My sweet wife? My ex-wife? No... no no... she was mine. She would do as I told... as I saw fit... or she would step into line like the rest of them once I was done... once I was finished...

A small almost giggle came from within me.

How would I end her then? Kill her quickly? No... the last one had been quick. Just a flash and boom. Dead. This one would be slow. One of that special blood. Mother or daughter mother or daughter... the same blood, one young, fresh, dirtied. The other? Ugly, impure, sickening, disgusting.

I grinned in the shadows of the passage as I finally saw the younger of the blood ahead. The one I had come for. The beast yearned, but no... give her a chance... a sweet chance... did she deserve it? No of course not, but do not all predators love to play with their food before they devour it? Not all, but I? I would savor this.

[ 08-28-2006 08:18 PM: Message edited 1 time, lastly by Rykounagin ]

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...but the halfling was all but completely under the influence of the Temple of S'slan. The Blood-lust rose hot and panting within her, readying her for the Hunt as it had done for Others of the Blood eon after eon after untold eon, preparing her as it always had those fighting warriors, heightening their strength and innate fighting abilities, honing them to the sharpness of an executioner's blade.

She heard the rustle of whispered foot upon stone and whirled, crouching, her eyes gleaming feral in the gloom.

Baring her teeth in a silent snarl, she waited, somehow knowing that as with the inverse, quite often the best offense is a defense subtly laid.

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"Hello my little rose.... tell me.... are we going to sit and talk?" I stalked partially out of the shadows into a small sliver of light, the source unknown so deep in this temple. "Or are we going to fight for dominance again? I'm curious to know..." I dragged the edge of the blade up and curled it in the direction I saw a faint outline in.

"Either is just fine by me...." I licked my lips slightly. Either way it was win win. Either she gave herself up to me, or I beat her and she submitted, or as the most wonderful chance would be, I would merely kill her. Simplification; and that body could yield hours of entertainment afterwards. It would be curious to see what made such a creature tick on the inside.

"Give me your answer..." I whispered, eyes locked into her now, the gloom slowly pealing away. "Quickly before the choices run out!"

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For was this not what the War-God had promised? Were not these his blessings to those of the Blood, that to Hunt and bring him blood-sacrifice their own prowess would be increased ten, a hundred, a thousandfold?

It would be too ridiculously easy to banish Rykounagin to oblivion with but a thought. Perhaps something better was in order; he was close to utterly mad, that her own sanity assured her of. That whatever small mote of love he might have once held for her mattered no longer; now he was less than enemy, only prey.

Prey whose mind was close to snapping, oh so very close. What better way than that Way only She, she once the Queen of Death, could show.

For once had she done this. She was certain it was yet within her reach.

She tensed momentarily, then rose, softening, letting her body sway seductively in the dimness and the cloying heat and humidity of the stone.

"Rykounagin..." she whispered, drawing out the syllables until they vanished upon the air, now letting her eyes drift halfway closed, tilting her head to one side as her hands drifted upward like fluttering birds to toy with the thick curling tendrils of her hair.

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It was almost juvenile to put such limits, but I hardly cared, my patience wearing thin for this present tension as thick or as thin as it were.

"Tell me my love... are you going to forgive me... or will I have to show my affection for you?" As I spoke, I twisted the sword in my hand and pulled it back towards me, tip gently grazing the floor, my smile never-ceasing.

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The word slid from her lips like the breath of the wind, long and low and somehow mournful, ephemeral. She quieted, her eyes wide in the dark and very sane, watching his own madness acutely, her head lolling languidly as she played about her lips with her hair.

"Affection?" she repeated, now dropping the hair and placing her hands lightly upon opposite shoulders in a self-imposed caress.

"When have you done thus, truly?" she asked softly, gauging the level of his rising insanity against her own repressed lust for blood, holding herself tightly now so as not to let anything out, beginning to sway a bit from one foot to another even as from somewhere deep within the timeless shadows something lifted feral lips in a chortle of pure glee.

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My madness was far from gone, a mile from banished. But I was cognant for the moment, some small part of my mind remembering that task I had been given by our father. Our father. The one we had to obey. The one whose mission we had to complete, to finish off and give him his dreams.

"I can be ever so affectionate.... if you would give me opportunity." The beast growled slightly, almost checking me against myself, a concealed and inward warning.

"Are we to lay down blades?-" I lowered my eyelids, letting only a sliver of eye pass through to sight. "Or will we continue stalking?"

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But, inexplicably, the words Rykounagin was speaking seemed uncannily able to slip beyond all that, to wriggle through her plans, to beguile their way into her very essence.

She was yet very much the little girl, and as such had experienced only dealings with simple black and white. Never the myriad shades of gray which existed in between.

This unexpected reply was indeed neither black nor white. Attack or madness, yes, those were the comforting hues she thought she had sought, something to appease the Blood, to appease It's blood, something she was oh so very skillful in doing after all...

But this sudden, soft grayness.

She let her hands drop limp by her sides. Let her guard completely down. Let the aching little hole so deep within her being begin, trembling, to grow and grow, seeking to be filled.

"Rykounagin?" was all she could repeat before retreating into silence, far from being submissive, but farther yet from her usual superior stance.

[ 08-31-2006 12:46 AM: Message edited 1 time, lastly by ShaRhylla ]

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"Do you forgive me?" My voice was soft, eyes locked upon hers, the beast in full control over my right hand however, grasping the blade tightly, wrestling to control the urge to cut her down at that moment. "Will you forgive me?"

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She blinked, gulped, let her eyes fall to the stones at her feet before drawing them slowly up to meet his own strangely intense pair.

"If- if you will in turn f-forgive me," she said, the words, so unaccustomed to her lips, falling out now with surprising ease, followed by ones even more surprising.

"And try to understand me, as I shall try to understand you."

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"How could I refuse that?" I asked quietly, closing my eyes, the madness that the temple has spurred into my heart moving away from the forefront of my thoughts, and shifting away to a reserve in the back of my mind. "How could I?" I asked again softly, a hand rising to stroke her scarlet hair back gently.

"Come... let us leave this place..." I murmured. "I have no heart for it... only for my love."

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She sat bolt upright in the bed where Graysith had laid her, screaming, not seeing the healers that came to her side for the vision of fires dancing in her mind's eye, ignoring the room spinning in her line of vision.

It wasn't a dream.

Shayla fell back upon the sheets with this thought, her body still aching and needing rest. Unconsciously then, Shayla reached a hand up to touch her face for wounds. Instead it came in contact with baby-soft skin.

Was it a dream?

Shayla frowned to herself, her mind too cloudy to think clearly.

No. It hadn't been. The feeling had been too real. And she had gone after Rykounagin when...

The fires now blazed not only in her mind's eye, but also in her heart. She let her hand, still resting on her cheek, slide up to her hair...

...only to feel soft, down-like, short hair. And slowly she became aware of the hair on the other side of her face, the hair which was falling into her face freely. She tensed.

Fires raged.

"I failed," she moaned then softly to herself, her lids falling closed in inner pain and outer exhaustion. "I should have known..."

[ 09-03-2006 11:18 PM: Message edited 1 time, lastly by Shayla Stargazer Petrolu ]

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ShaRhylla sighed as with each step the Blood Lust seemed to step further and further away from her conscious thought, until by the time they had completely exited the temple it seemed as if it had been nothing but a momentary dream. She raised her face to Rykounagin's to make mention of this, but stopped.

A corner of her lip curled in mild amusement.

"This is a new look for you, my Lord," she commented lightly, her eyes flashing with dark and somehow approving humor.

[ 09-03-2006 11:31 PM: Message edited 1 time, lastly by ShaRhylla ]

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I let go of her, and gave a small florish. "Of her servant, her adept, I believe is her title." I smiled. "Soon a similar fate will meet those who ally themselves with her." My smile took on an almost feral nature. "And soon? She herself with be naught but ashes."

The moment laid heavy, the silence and snow being the only other things with true life in them at that moment. I broke it a moment later with a more warm grin. "Come, let us leave this cold, and make ourselves comfortable within the craft I commandeered for the trip to this temple."

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"One down," she muttered darkly, her fang-tips peeping from beneath her lips, pearly white and glistening. Then, although it would be a nearly effortless thing for her to hold at bay the suffocating cold and snow they had stepped out into, she snuggled into Rykounagin for warmth.

For after all, wasn't he to be her Lord, at the behest of her father as well as her own indecisive heart? A heart which was leaning more and more into the tiny mote of warmth he was igniting within, one suddenly more willing not only to join his, but let him into itself.

This brought another thought to her head, and as they approached the ship Rykounagin had taken she voiced it aloud.

"What is it Father wishes of us; do you know?" she asked, turning her eerie bi-colored eyes up to capture his own as she continued to allow him to lead her toward the awaiting vessel.

[ 09-03-2006 11:50 PM: Message edited 1 time, lastly by ShaRhylla ]

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"We will have to be cautious of course, for we are dealing with foolish, but powerful opponents. Your mother of course is the one that truely stands in our way... we need to find... some way to circumvent that... but I'm afraid returning to the city just now would not incite the best of reactions from her, to say the least."

He moved to sit upon one of the larger chairs inside the medium sized cabin that the fighter sported, letting her rest against his chest in his lap. "Have you any idea to where we might take?"

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"How long do you wish to remain away from the temple, if not Phrinnchatka as well?" she finally asked, wiggling a little so as turn a bit to the side and thus more easily look up into Rykounagin's face. The posture was not the most comfortable one; grunting a tiny bit, she resumed her prior stance, leaning back into the warmth of his chest and the sound of his heart beating within it.

"Is there a purpose in staying away? Do we need to remain on K'eel Doba altogether?

"We can always go hide on Khar Delba; it's quite wild, if a bit on the cold side."

She wrinkled her nose with distaste at the thought.

"If we remained here on K'eel Doba, we could go out into the farmlands, and remain hidden away with some family--"

Her nose wrinkled even more as she automatically dismissed the idea in its entirety.

"There is Kamino--"

Why that idea popped into her head, she hadn't a clue.

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I did not brush her off of me to go to the controls, but remained with her laying against my chest, waiting to hear her opinion on the idea. I was sure it would be fine, as it had been seven years ago when I had last left it.

It seemed right that if I was to have a child with this woman who rested against me, that it would follow in the way that I had been born there, as had hundreds of those before.

"Does that sound alright to you?" I asked curiously.

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

"I follow where you lead, for I have no desire to return to Phrinnchatka at this moment," she replied smoothly, snuggling back a little before flowing lithely from his lap to take another seat. After all, he did need freedom to pilot the ship now, didn't he?

As Rykounagin set about the preliminary departure routines, she couldn't help but frown to herself, thinking about Phrinnchatka and the life of royalty to which she had grown accustomed. She truly hoped that whatever plan Rykounagin and her father had up their collective sleeves would not take long to take root, and that she could return to her place of nobility after not too lengthy a hiatus.
With my new Lord at my side, she thought, casting a furtive glance Rykounagin's way, her smile growing even more promising.

[ 09-04-2006 01:21 AM: Message edited 1 time, lastly by ShaRhylla ]

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