But still he heard her. She, with whom he had returned to this land. She, who was to be his queen and follow his rise to greatness with and without this realm. She, who would carry his heir.

She, who had secretly longed for the return of the witch into her life. The Master, as useless as he had become, did offer a wealth of information about that one. And yes, it was suggested that the most direct means of stabbing into the witch’s heart was to take the one she called “sister”. But that was not the whole story. Not now.

“Are we not all a means to an end?” he called out, his eyes opening to regard his queen. “You should ask the same question to yourself, my love. What was missing from your life, what was it you so desperately needed, what void was sapping your soul so greatly that you so eagerly accepted what I offered to you? I made my terms most clear, and turned you into a special being – not alive, yet not dead, but powerful and beautiful beyond anything else in this realm. And still you question my motives?”

Imps were now swarming in droves to face the oncoming ship, squadrons of winged demons descended from the non-sky, but Kieran turned his mind away from the chaos to focus on his queen.

Now unflinching, she uttered merely one word.

"Ow."

With that and a carefully arched brow, she turned back to the control panel, and swiftly brought the battered ship down to the only place that wasn't roiling with demons:

Smack inside the ruined yet still walled courtyard, from which center the oppressive miasma of the great white tower rose.

There she wasted no time.

Giving the Dark Lord a somewhat derisive glance, she quickly opened the hatch, and then powered down the ship.

"The beasts will swarm us anyway; we will not leave this place unless we are victorious," the logical part of herself that was her Mother explained simply.

"Besides, we have other means of egress we might summon."

With that she gave a resounding war whoop, and recklessly shot from the corvette, racing down the gangway to stand at its base, there to greet the non-reality about her as the old, familiar friend that it was.

Somewhere nearby, her father awaited her. The Tooth of S'slaan firmly grasped in one hand, her sword in the other, she tilted her head back and allowed his name to rip from her lips in a roar that was more of a challenge than a call.

[ 01-16-2017 07:25 PM: Message edited 1 time, lastly by Graysith ]

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"My daughter is correct, we must make haste and depart this ship if we are to have anything in the way of an upper hand," she exclaimed as she moved past the Dark Lord. Her trailing fingers brushed his own in that passing, sending a message of love and connection and unity that all the denizens of the dark could never, ever break.

Not anymore.

Panting with the rush of adrenalin coursing through her body, she came to a halt next to her daughter, who was standing at the end of the gangway, well-armed. She smiled as she flanked her, now letting the glory of the Glyph erupt with the message it had strove to release ever since she returned to this dank and horrible realm.

I AM HERE.

Standing beside her flesh and blood, she sent out a signal, not trying to hide the connection any longer.

SHAYLA, WE ARE HERE. I AM HERE!

The thought raced outward, and she tensed, waiting for the Dark Lord to join them, that together they might remove her Chosen Sister from this place along with the father of her child, hopefully in the process finding some means of closing it off from that which men term real that its horrors might never impose on the universe again.

[ 01-16-2017 07:23 PM: Message edited 1 time, lastly by Graysith ]

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"I had just lost my child, and I had been promised that..." Shayla whispered darkly and then trailed, her greeny-blue eyes arrowing into Kieran's. Simultaneously she took a few steps backwards toward the tower once more, while still managing to pin him with her eyes. "You offered me the chance for another."

She paused, both in speech and in movement.

"But I have failed you."

From which part of her that final statement came, Shayla was uncertain.

[ 01-16-2017 08:07 PM: Message edited 1 time, lastly by Shayla Stargazer Petrolu ]

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Phalomir glanced in a quick circle to access the situation. They were truly trapped in this courtyard, with a gibbering horde of imps bearing in around the eerie white tower, and more of them flying in from above, now starting to circle the area. The open gates lay ahead, but too far. There was no possible route that would lead them to the figures at the gate before being swarmed.

He shot a look to the tower, gleaming menacingly in the darkness of the sky. It’s terrible irony sticking out like a beacon all of the evil within this land, giving meaning and power to the beasts that threatened them. He could not help but recall the torturous captivity he spent in this tower, being prepared as a sacrifice to something incomprehensible save to the Master. Even then he was aware of the power that this tower held.

Wait, yes! The tower itself held power. But not only that – it provided power! That was why the Realm would not let it remain in ruins, why the tower reappeared nearly as he remembered it after he had seen it broken in the past. This could be the answer!

“Perhaps this ship is not outlived its usefulness!” he exclaimed. “Quickly, run for the gate and do what you can to free Shalya and Roan! I will distract this army and give you a chance!”

Not waiting for protests, Phalomir rushed back into the ship and dashed for the controls. Not waiting to close the hatch, he throttled the ship into motion and screaming for the sky. He aimed for the swirling mass of winged demons, and using his long reach he slammed onto the firing controls. Not bothering to wait for the computer to target, he held the firing mechanism down with one hand as he navigated wildly with the other. Demons exploded in the air as the foreign energy blasts hit them, leaving trailing puffs of red and black non-smoke in their place. There were too many to continue this course of action, so Phalomir swerved the ship starboard and began a wide arc. The demons fell in line behind, in a large terrifying cloud of beating wings.

Phalomir pushed the ship downward now, peppering the imps below with sprays of energy. Chunks of ground spewed upwards as more and more puffs of greasy smoke materialized where imps had once been. Phalomir strafed the gathering horde and pulled up to buzz just above them. He could hear the thumps as imps jumped to the ship, banging hard enough to rattle the cockpit. An imp charged and leapt from the ground at such a great velocity that it smashed into the cockpit and burst its head through the hull. It screamed in rage but could not free itself. The horde scattered somewhat, retreating like the cowards they were upward into the surrounding hills. They would not stay away for long.

Phalomir heard scrabbling and screeching behind him, and looked back long enough to see that two imps had managed to jump to the open hatchway. He snarled and returned to the controls, pulling up heavily and taking the ship into a steep climb. The imps screamed and grabbed for purchase. Phalomir checked the aft screen, showing the winged armada of demons in hot pursuit. He sucked in a deep breath and turned sharply, setting a collision course with the tower itself. He locked the navigation and turned to the still open hatchway. Two imps were clinging for dear life, much like he and Jharmeen had done only moments prior. A look of confusion crossed one imp’s face as it saw Phalomir regarding it.

“Massster?” it chittered. Phalomir snarled once more and rushed for the hatch, grabbing the imp in a bear hug as he jumped from the ship. The imp screamed in terror as it descended, trapped in Phalomir’s grasp. The sky behind and above exploded, Phalomir could hear countless shrieks and groans, as the tower itself seemed to howl in rage. The land below grew darker, and closer, and Phalomir maneuvered the imp so it was directly beneath him, and hoped with all of his heart that Jharmeen and ShaRhylla had enough time -- and that imps bounce.

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

Kieran stopped, his attention grabbed by the strange sight in the sky. The ship was now twisting and turning in the air, firing at his winged demons. Destroying his winged demons!

“What treachery is this?” he shouted, pointing into the sky, all his attention focused on this horrific sight. His rage swelled, his fingers flecked with electricity. Glowing red eyes now watched the ship bank hard, strafing the imps along the wall and forcing them into retreat.

“NO!” he cried, thrusting his arms forward and letting loose with a fiery blast of electricity. In his fury he missed the ship and incinerated dozens of imps. He gathered himself for another blast as the ship arced upwards, over his head, and he turned away from Shayla to follow the ship’s course.

"We- we shall deal with your father when time allows," she panted as they raced along. "But now we have before us a more pressing engagement!"

The Glyph on her forehead roared into even more violent life, fueled by determination laced with love and perhaps just a bit of the strange powers encompassed by the dreary darkness of the white tower, which loomed off to her right. Reaching out with yet more of her talents, she released growing tightness in the muscles of her legs, doing the same for her daughter, allowing the incipient cramps building within hers from her long healing stint on Bespin to dissipate, adding extra flexibility to the younger flesh of ShaRhylla. At inhuman speed, they flashed toward the distant gate, and quickly gained it.

There they paused a precious second to take stock of the situation.

Off to their left and down the tremendously long stone wall, nearly as far as the adjoining, tangential one, and perched on top of a large, white boulder was the Dark One, the One who would dare take the form of her beloved Lord and Master. On the non-stone of the courtyard floor in front of him stood the quiet form of her Beloved Chosen Sister. Jharmeen's eyes darkened to see the travesty of it, the Glyph began to raven even more electrically but was given respite of sorts when she noticed something more:

The false Phalomir was staring upward, behind her...

She whirled in just in time to see their ship slam into the non-ness of the mysterious white tower, and explode.

"NO!" she screamed, letting ShaRhylla's hand fall from her loosening grasp.

"Phalomir!"

There was a sudden motion, the feel of her daughter's hand upon her shoulder, and from the corner of her eye she saw her outstretched arm, one finger pointing to a small figure which was rapidly plummeting toward the roiling non-ground of this vile place of non-life.

"PHALOMIR!" she allowed herself a final shriek, before taking a firm grip of her emotions. Reaching out, she allowed the stored energies that had been steadily mounting within her to explode outward, lashing out into the roiling masses of those millions of demons who had not yet taken flight. They fell, stunned utterly senseless, forming a carpet of gargantuan proportions on the non-ground over which they had been running. Pushing with greater strength, she manipulated them into a great mat, one most disgusting to be true, but one that was not only directly below the falling Sith Lord, but was also thick and relatively soft and...

Bouncy.

Knowing Phalomir would be able to take matters from there, she turned about and glared down the wall to her left, there to see the form of the false Phalomir yet watching the fall from the sky. It was as if he was simply entranced by the sight.

Clenching her jaw, she tilted her head down, and continuing to glare at Keiran from beneath thundering brows, began to move toward him and Shayla, her daughter by her side, their steps growing faster and more determined with every passing second.

[ 01-16-2017 10:13 PM: Message edited 1 time, lastly by Graysith ]

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...and perhaps really didn't want to...

...as she then stretched out her attentions to Graysith, who was nearing the gate in the courtyard wall.

And THAT was the moment the ship hit the tower, and quite simply exploded.

Behind her, she heard Jharmeen's shriek.

Her heart--for even in death she most certainly had one--flew up in her chest...

..and her attentions turned away from Kieran, atop the white non-stone, for at least the moment, and looked in the direction of her Sister.

"Jharmeen..." she whispered, as if in that moment some sort of spell broke within her. But on the heels of that, worry shot up in her very heart of hearts, and her eyes jerked back to Kieran. No matter, for he was still bellowing orders at imps.

Shayla took a deep breath, and turned from him, both literally and symbolically...

...and began moving towards Jharmeen, her senses yet extended...

...her soul now clinging to the Link as a life line.

And perhaps it was just that.

[ 01-16-2017 10:01 PM: Message edited 1 time, lastly by Graysith ]

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That was first thought that raced into Kieran’s mind when the ship exploded into the tower. But the white brick that rained down from the fiery cloud quickly pushed aside that thought and left him in a momentary shock. He felt a stabbing pain rip through his chest, as if a very part of him had been seized by an unseen fist and squeezed into oblivion.

The tower! What have these malicious Cretans done to my tower?

The witch must have known, somehow, that the tower was a center point of the Realm, at the same time a beacon and transmitter. Kieran could feel the spirit within him screaming, overcome by rage and agony. The tower could return, but for now the beast within him was beyond reach.

Beyond reach.

Kieran stepped backwards, feeling oddly… himself. It was a strange feeling, somewhat empty yet at the same time gratifying. Suddenly a wave of emotions ran through him, giving him pause and causing him to double over briefly. Thoughts leapt into his suddenly clear mind, the roiling rampage of the spirit within pushed aside to deal with its own problems for the moment. He looked around, frantically seeking her. There!

“Shayla!” he cried, his worry rasping in his throat. “Shayla, no!”

The witch was running for her, her long flame red hair trailing behind like a hungry snake. Shayla was running towards her, surely entranced by an evil spell. Summoning his strength, fed by love and worry, he bolted after her.

“Get away from her, you WITCH!” he cried as he fired furious sparks through his fingers. He was taken aback by the lack of strength that the lightning held, but lightning it was just the same. Not boosted by the power of the Realm, merely Sith majick, it was still formidable enough to smack into the witch and send her to the ground. The woman running with her, most certainly a lesser witch of the same coven, stopped and shrieked furiously.

But Shayla continued to run, even faster now. The spell was not yet lifted.

“My love, stop! This is a trick, she has cast a spell on you! Don’t do this, I can’t bear being without you!”

Around them, the shrill calls of the imps heightened, then subsided. They too were affected by the loss of the tower, their powers diminished. Many of them stood in confusion, not knowing what to do. The commanding hold over them no longer driving their thoughts. It was if the master was suddenly no longer in control...

Shrieking with outraged affrontery, the young Halfling glared at the distant Sith figure, then reached a pearl-clawed hand to assist her mother to her feet. She didn't even stop to ascertain the well-being of her parent but immediately turned her hate-filled eyes back upon their prey. He remained dramatically motionless atop the strange white non-rock, something seeming like tears shining upon his features as a blond, sea-eyed young woman came flying their way.

The Halfling snarled, and took off running; moments later joined by her mother. Both sharing direction, but with entirely different ends in mind.

The All lent wings to her feet as Jharmeen flew toward her Adept and Sister, who was doing her part in shortening the distance between them. Behind her, the false Phalomir merely stood quietly atop the white rock, now staring at his hands as if baffled by something. ShaRhylla merely slitted her eyes and tightened her grip on her Tooth, her sword now taking the place of her mother's hand in her grip.

Events transpired quickly then.

Jharmeen and Shayla finally met, collided into each other's arms, with the Teacher and Elder crying unabashedly as she held her young pupil - who had endured so much, who undoubtedly had grown so much - then pulling back to stare into her face, seeking whatever sorrow or pain she might find there that she could eradicate it.

Simultaneously, her senses expanded outward, slamming against something white-hot with unmitigated rage and hatred...

It was not Keiran. It was her daughter.

"ShaRhylla, no!"

Her voice echoed out carrying tones of new despair as sudden understanding slammed into her. In but a fraction of a second, the world flipped upside down.

Rhylla was by now yowling like one of the very Beasts of this Realm, filled with nothing but the primal desire for death and the sheer delight in instigating it.

In her arms, Shayla was quaking, nearly sobbing... yet somehow... blank.

And Keiran...

Her eyes widened, and she sensed further, forcing the tendril of her being into his own, daring to break through defenses which suddenly melted before her like butter in a hot sun.

This one was no Dark Terror. This one was but...

A Sith.

Who could be twin to her beloved Phalomir.

Another raw emotion ripped into her, staggering her. She fell somewhat against Shayla, then stared in disbelief from her Chosen Sister and back to the suddenly diminished Keiran...

"Who truly loves you!"

That utterly oxymoronic realization nearly sent her to the ground. How could this happen; how, in this Realm, could this even have been allowed to happen? It simply could not be; the Darker Realms would not let it, could not. For it was anathema to it's very non-ness.

But it was indeed true.

She could feel it...

A quick shake of her head, and she brought herself to her senses. She reached a hand in Keiran's direction.

"ShaRhylla, no!" she cried once more, but this time the words sprang from an entirely different source.

"Stop!"

Tears filling her eyes, she reached out her hand just so, and sent a blast of that which was within her directly into the halfling's back, not injuring her but sending her, senseless, to the non-cobbles of the courtyard, mere meters from her intended victim who yet seemed to be in utter ignorance of the impending, if but temporarily extinguished, threat of her.

Then taking Shayla by the hand, she ran quickly to her fallen daughter, and knelt beside her. A quick appraisal prove her right: ShaRhylla was only momentarily stunned, and would quickly be back to her old haughty self.

She then flicked her eyes upward, locking them upon Keiran's stricken form.

"Who are you?" she breathed, sensing no immediate threat from him, but not being stupid enough to drop her guard.

[ 01-16-2017 11:16 PM: Message edited 1 time, lastly by Graysith ]

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...did he really love her, in his own twisted way..?

She frowned.

And what about you...?

Her greeny blue eyes turned a bit stormy, even as ShaRhylla began to rouse slightly on the non-ground. And that was when, with a start, Shayla realized she didn't want anything to happen to him....

...What...????

And then Jharmeen's final question registered in Shayla's mind, even as her eyes rose to look to him, atop the Temple wall, confusion yet blinding his eyes.

"He's a clone..." she whispered, falling silent then, unable to unlock her gaze from Kieran's suddenly vacant visage.

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

She blinked, letting her gaze be yanked from Keiran to her Adept. Her jaw, ready to drop, now did so, and she blinked. She worked that jaw silently, willing words to come, trying to think of what to say, what to do...

For again it seemed as if the world had once more taken a strange sideways shift, on then to flip upside down once more.

She rose from ShaRhylla's side, sensing her daughter's movements as consciousness began to coax her from her sleep. Stared at Keiran, then to Shayla, then to Keiran once again.

This couldn't be happening, couldn't be!

Could it?

A wave of anger-laced confusion washed outward from her.

"Phalomir, oh my Dark Lord! Where are you? We need your assistance!" Letting a little breath of relief rush from her for the fact that it yet existed, she sent the entreaty flying across the Link she shared with him.

Then she focused her attention solely on Shayla.

It is said that the eyes are the windows to the soul, and that all truths and untruths can be revealed through their shining irises. Seeking nothing other than the truth, she sought out Shayla's own soul, sending a glance wide with surprise but filled with determination winging into Shayla's sea-green pair.

"Is- is this truth, my Sister?" she breathed in the merest wisp of a whisper. "What I sense you feel about...

"Him."

She nodded fractionally toward the rock upon which Keiran was standing, The Glyph on her forehead was thrumming with restraint, ready should he attempt any attack toward any of the three women. But this was something which desperately needed to be discovered, that she would know which actions to take against the clone of Lord Phalomir.

"He- he-" Reaching outward into her Adept's being, she couldn't help but recoil against the little kernel of utter cold she found deep inside her. It wasn't born of hatred, or rage, or any of the darker emotions. That would not have sent her reach backing rapidly into the welcomed familiarity of her own self. Rather, it was born of something else, something she'd recognized in loved ones more than once...

"He killed, you, oh my dear, dear Adept and Sister!"

It was all she could do to keep her head from bowing down in utter grief. She knew she had pulled her daughter from these drear Realms, and with the All had managed to bring her out from death and into life again.

But did she have the right to do this, if indeed there was some mysterious bond between the pair? And indeed, could she find the way to implement the changeover once again?

She could only swallow and stare into Shayla's eyes, and for just one tiny moment allowed herself to become a little girl again, wishing with all her being that Phalomir would come riding over the hill to rescue them all.

At her feet her daughter stirred slightly, growling.

[ 01-18-2017 08:11 PM: Message edited 1 time, lastly by Graysith ]

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He rolled off of the unmoving imp and checked his surroundings. His joy was short lived, however, as he realized that he had fallen on not just one, not just two, but a whole a pile of imps. They were not moving much at the moment, but some of them were stirring slightly. Not wanting to be around when they came to, Phalomir checked for the direction of the gate for which Jharmeen and ShaRhylla had headed and broke into an all-out run.

His long, powerful Sith legs carried Phalomir quickly away from the imp cuddle pile. Behind, he could hear the fire still burning from the explosion. Around, he could still hear the gibbering of imps, but it was somewhat different than when they had landed. Now, there was less of a concert of evil and more of a low-ley rumbling, like a crowd of restless teens trying to determine if the authorities had the strength to stop them. Why that analogy popped into his head, Phalomir did not know, but there it was.

As Phalomir drew closer he prepared himself for battle. He could see Jharmeen and Shayla, standing together before a large Sith that rivaled his own size. His first thought was it was the Master, but this Sith was too large. A form was on the ground, not moving – ShaRhylla! Anger flared in Phalomir’s eyes as his pace quickened, and truly it no lingered mattered who this Sith was. He was a threat that had to be dealt with. Then the voice of his beloved filled his mind, frantically calling for him. We need your assistance!

Lightning flared from Phalomir’s fingers as he ran, his blood boiling. He closed the distance in seconds and leaped, clearing the startled ladies and plowing directly into the Sith figure on the stone. The two tumbled off, the Sith pinned below Phalomir and striking the ground with a sickening thud. Phalomir used his momentum to spring to his feet, turned, and prepared to unleash a blast of Sith magick into the stranger.

The Sith had rolled to his side and was struggling to rise. Phalomir did not wait, but stormed to the Sith and wrapped a powerful arm around his throat from behind. He lifted the struggling Sith, keeping a tight choke hold from behind. This Sith was incredibly strong, perhaps as strong as Phalomir, and certainly as tall. But Phalomir had the advantage at the moment, and no intention of letting it go.

“WHO ARE YOU?!” he bellowed.

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

...such a thing truly did not exist, no matter what Kieran was telling her, or perhaps even feeling himself.

Could he in fact feel anything at all? He was filled with the Darkness...but he was also once a living being like she herself was...

...once.

Shayla shuddered a little despite herself, her greeny blue eyes still locked on Jharmeen, the logical portion of herself fighting with the feelings. She had been here for so seemingly long she felt entwined in this place, damned to never leave...

...and that's what he wanted.

And those who truly love know how to let go...

...just as She is trying to determine if she needs to do now...? a little voice niggled within Shayla, her eyes widening as she continued to gaze at her teacher and she who chose her as Sister...

...but that's when Phalomir busted through, lightning flaring as he leaped over she and Jharmeen to knock into the very hapless looking Kieran, bringing him to the ground. As Kieran struggled to rise, Phalomir took him by the throat, clearly having no intention of letting go. The clarity Shayla was beginning to feel with Jharmeen began to shift once more.

And then for a blinding moment, reality dawned on Shayla. Twice Kieran had been asked who he was...

...but the truth of the matter was Kieran had absolutely no clue who he was. Her mind shifted back to another time, seemingly ages ago, when she and the Master had made a deal, the Darkness inside she and Jharmeen at the time...

...and the Master having brought a clone...somehow unbeknownst to the Darkness?...instead of the genuine article.

Only said genuine article was now here...

She Who Was Shayla rose up now in sudden stark terror and fear, a reality dawning. She couldn't to put it into words...

..and she didn't want to. Deeply within, a kernal that had been buried...but never truly gone...stretched out to Jharmeen, depositing her knowledge regarding the Master's use of the clone as a stand in for the true Phalomir, praying that Jharmeen would understand what was now alarming her so.

They had to get out of this place, now, even if Shayla could not...

[ 01-21-2017 09:08 AM: Message edited 1 time, lastly by Shayla Stargazer Petrolu ]

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"Who are you!" the great Sith mimicked her very words as he grappled with the dark one.

"Who is he?" she breathed. Then fury gave her voice full throat.

"Phalomir! Turn him around! Look in the face that which you combat!

"But oh my love, take a care!"

This last entreaty came in response to memories suddenly unleashed by information flooding into her mind from Shayla, dire warnings given to her by he who was known as The Master, when she was recovering on Bespin from the physical ordeal she had endured when trapped, sans All, on the forested moon of Endor.

[ 01-21-2017 09:00 PM: Message edited 1 time, lastly by Graysith ]

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...but perhaps not for the reason the logical portion of her mind would have liked. The Shayla that Was, the one buried deep within, pointed out that perhaps now was the time that she could get away from this darkness, starting with Kieran's defeat.

After all, he was the one who brought you here, to be a Queen, but not to be by his side, in truth, but merely as the incubator to an heir.

Even though her mind thought such things, and She Who Was warred with the darker portion of Shayla that had emerged something else rose up unbidden, from a place between both the Dark and the Light. Somewhere perhaps buried even more deeply within, Something Else practically laughed in derision at Shayla's unconscious effort to seperate the Darkness within from She Who Was.

Shayla's greeny-blue eyes defocused, turning even stormier. Memories collided within, logic and feeling at war with one another.

Passion and Apathy, not Love and Hate, are truly two sides of a single coin. He may have been initially using you, but he may very well now also love you. He's confused, he doesn't truly know who he is, doesn't know what is truly going on here, that he may too merely be a pawn, and he doesn't want you to leave him...

...and you, Shayla Stargazer? What do you want?

Before Shayla was truly aware of what she was doing, her feet took wings and she hurried to Kieran, who was still held in a vise-grip by Phalomir. Something white-hot, whether it was Force or something of this Realm or something else entirely, sparked unbidden from Shayla.

"STOP!"

The word flew from her mouth as energy flew from within her soul and outward, taking everyone by surprise, especially Phalomir. He stumbled back with the strength of the blow, and Shayla rushed to the wounded Kieran's side, lowering herself and covering him with her body.

Still, a portion of herself went out to Graysith, her Teacher, and the one whom he loved. Whatever was happening now, this would never change, and Shayla knew it both logically and deeply within.

Within her mind, she stretched out to the fallen Kieran.

You need to stop it too, and Think. Answer them...if you can. Who are you?

[ 01-01-2019 10:14 AM: Message edited 1 time, lastly by Shayla Stargazer Petrolu ]

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No matter who brandishes what awesome power.

Thus it was that when Phalomir came roaring in to slam his doppleganger to the non-ground, her eyes flamed red in hate-filled effrontery. The brief concern slewing from her mother in turn churned up merry delight in her dark soul, a delight born of those darker and more hideous than what one would normally think. Wispy contradictions of how oxymoronish the simple term "delight" really was rose up behind her eyes, bringing memories of delights born in blood and darkness and hatred and...

Killing.

The very word ripped through those lovely, hideous memories, letting loose another remembrance. She paused, looked to the four: Shayla panting like an animal over the body of the fallen Keiran, Phalomir in the process of regaining his balance, a look of complete surprise crossing his rugged features, and her mother...

Her mother flicking a look about them all, concern crossing her face in dark, leaping shadows. This provoked a bit of a frown in ShaRhylla.

She forgets...

Drawing herself upright, she placed her hands on her hips, the Tooth of S'slaan pointing forward threateningly toward them, whether by design or not who was to say.

"Oh dear, so he killed her, how tragic!" she exclaimed, a mocking smile lighting on her face in reply to that which had brought this knowledge to her. "But does it matter? Here she lives again! And oh my goodness, beware Phalomir! Indeed, turn your prey about, that you can see his face. The face of one who does not deserve the Gifts of the Realm.

"For he has never, truly touched it."

Now shoving the Tooth into her belt, she whirled about, dismissing the now twice-shocked group as utterly as one truly Queen of this place ever could. The others were indeed but playthings, pawns of the Realms in the Games it so loved to play as it endeavored over and over, unceasingly, throughout endless Eternities to figure out exactly who it was. What it was.

So it could be. So it could WIN.

But she. She herself WAS touched by this place. Truly caressed by it's glory. Bound further by her daughters. Both coming not merely via death... but death created by the Realms itself. Not by doppleganger, not by avatar, but...

Pure Darkness itself.

As she had been, via Entaris, He who thanks to the curiosity of trembling scientists had provided the shell into which Darkness itself could find embodiment. No amount of love poured back into her being could ever completely erase his velvety touch.

Her back to the group prevented them from seeing the sly little grin now creasing her features.

"I must find my father!"

Secure in her safety by virtue of familiarity, and using her inherent powers only as a matter of convenience, she disappeared.

((Follow ShaRhylla into "Thus Spake Zarathustra," in the Jedi and Sith Temple forums, thank you.))

[ 01-01-2019 01:48 PM: Message edited 1 time, lastly by ShaRhylla ]

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A glow of blood hissed forth from her eyes, and she cocked her head to one side.

"Coming Mother," she said simply, and just as simply...

Disappeared.

((Follow IllaAnda into "Thus Spake Zarathustra," in the Jedi and Sith Temple forums, thank you.))

She blinked again, took another step backwards, the Glyph on her forehead now flaring into life at the sudden influx of emotion now rushing into her being.

Hatred and love. Light and Dark. Passion and... empathy.

Serene assurance and... confusion.

She cast a look at the place where seconds ago her daughter had stood. A sob caught in her throat. Swiftly then, her head turned and she pinned her gaze on the form of her dear Adept and Sister, who lay atop the Dark One as though her very life depended upon it.

Indeed. All two sides of a quite singular coin.

A great sigh heaved from her very soul, and her gaze lifted to Phalomir.

Her love. Her assurance. Her...

Rock.

Who looked every bit as stunned as she herself did.

She opened her mouth, closed it without saying a word. Then turned back to where Shayla was moving, adjusting her position atop the one they had come to destroy.

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Nothing, that is, save the lone echoing call…Who are you?

Kieran sat up with a grunt, hauling Shalya with him. He held her closely and immediately turned his back to shield her from the enemy figure standing behind her. He leaned his lips to her ear.
“I am Kieran,” he whispered. “And I will protect you.”
Kieran stood quickly, allowing Shayla to slide gently to her knees, and spun to face his attacker.

Confusion and doubt again surfaced, giving the enemy time to spring to its feet and turn. Phalomir snarled and prepared to once more engage in battle, his eyes darting upward to lock with his foe.

His own image.

“What?” he managed.

Before him stood a Sith, exactly like him. Different garments, yes, but every feature – the horns, the coloration, the face, even the very tattoos of entitlement – were the same.

“What treachery is this?” he shouted. “What villain has brought this abomination upon us? I destroyed you! I destroyed all of you, back in the Master’s vaults in the Temple! Speak, you vile mockery, and strep away from our beloved Shayla!”

But the thing did not move away, and in fact it backed a step closer to Shayla.

“I don’t know what tricks the Master is playing here,” it said. “Or maybe you were sent by the Darkness. But no matter what, I will not let you harm her. Take your witch and return home, you foul thing! Leave us!”

Lightning crackled from the other’s fingers in a warning. Phalomir stood ready, his own Sith magic casting a fiery glow from his fingers. His eyes narrowed. This was not a mere clone, not one of the things that Phalomir had discovered hidden away in the Elseness. “Who are you?” he demanded.

The clone’s eyes narrowed as well, but more in suspicion. “I am Kieran,” it said. “Named such by my queen, destined to rule these realms with her by my side.”

The clone glanced around and smirked slightly. “And I suggest, whoever you are, that you take my advice and leave now. As you can hear, my minions are stirring and will tear you apart at my command.”

But something in the clone’s eyes gave Phalomir pause. It was unsure of itself, seeming to struggle with something internally. Phalomir could sense the doubt, and in fact felt a sudden unease as he realized the change in the distant calls and gibberish. No longer was there a feeling of coordinated menace, now that was replaced by just… menace.

“I think you may be overestimating your hold on these creatures,” Phalomir said. “But no matter, clone, step away from Shayla and I will make your death quick.” The flash of fire in the clone’s eyes caught Phalomir by surprise. It did not attack, though, but instead reached a hand back to help Shayla to her feet, all while shifting its gaze from Phalomir to Graysith.

“I tell you one last time,” it said. “Leave us NOW!”

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The word slipped from her lips with the force of a zephyr, light, soft, quiet. Yet somehow it managed to slice through the escalating tension like a hot knife through butter.

She followed its utterance with a raised hand, as with steps equally soft she approached the threesome and came to a halt at Lord Phalomir's side. For a moment strangely timeless in this place that held no time, she simply stood there, staring back and forth from the suddenly hesitant Keiran to her oddly-acting Sister. For indeed, Shayla was acting in a manner most atypical of her.

Sudden understanding struck a hammer's blow upon her. Reflexively she reached a hand to Phalomir, fingers lacing into his for strength and assurance, before she turned her gaze back to Keiran once again.

"It is not up to you to say what she will do," she said in gentle reproach, her Glyph fading in intensity to match the tone of her voice.

"It is hers."

She kept her look pinned to his until she was certain he had understood her every nuance. Then she stepped a bit to the side so as to see Shayla, for the young woman was entirely eclipsed by the hulking form of the muscular Sith.

She took one, small step forward, her grasp leaving Phalomir's, and came to a halt. Timelessness passed.

"It is your choice, my dear Sister," she finally breathed. Nothing moved but her lips in giving voice to her thoughts; it was as if she did not want to give Shayla any suggestion or impetus as to what the the young Adept should do.

It was her choice...

"I heard your call. We came," she continued, yet standing in stony stillness. We- we hope to bring you to..."

She paused a moment, her eyes going vague as she searched for something deep inside of herself before continuing:

"Life. But he can bring you to love. Both are a rescue, each of a different kind. But only you can be minister of it."

Another hammer's blow struck, just as before, this time carrying with it complete and utter certainty of the words she had just spoken. This was a Crossroads.

But it was not hers, nor was it Phalomir's, nor even Keiran's. The choice as to which direction to turn belonged solely to Shayla. And she'd be damned if she said anything to sway her in either direction.

Then she simply closed her eyes, and waited.

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She had been here for a seeming eternity with Kieran, and she had no idea at which point she had developed the feelings she was now certainly having. Certainly they had come slowly, over the course of time...

A course of time in which she had felt very much alone. After losing her child, leaving Erik, and needing something to fill the great expanse of an aching void that yet filled her soul.

And now She Who Understood her most had come.

Shayla looked to Jharmeen, her eyes still clouded with thought.

She is willing to let you go. But is he?

Her thoughts paused for a moment, as Shayla shifted her eyes to look briefly up at him.

He might love you, but here you are confined, seperated from the others that you love...

...seperated from life..

Unbidden, a tears clouded her eyes. Shayla looked to Jharmeen, her eyes wet yet clearing.

"I want to live..." she said softly, wishing it were that easy for her to will the child she had lost to life, and yet the two others she had now lost as well. "There is much treachery afoot..."

And only in life can you truly help your Sister.

At that thought, Shayla turned to Phalomir, who was still looking darkly at Kieran, his intent fairly certain to her. "But please Lord Phalomir, don't hurt him." Shayla paused, reality slamming into her.

"He doesn't know."

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Indeed, the strength was not there. Nor was the darkness speaking to him. It was not gone, not entirely, but it was diminished to a speck.

So what to do with this witch and her minion? This thing that dared call Kieran a clone. The witch spoke so very eloquently, so very subtly hinting that Shayla should leave him. So very carefully playing her, telling her she would be rescued. No, witch! Yours is no rescue! All you offer is to bring her to—

Life?

What did this mean? What COULD this mean?

The touch of Shayla’s hand brought him back to the moment. She was looking at him, eyes brimming. And now Shayla was speaking. But the words were strange, echoes of the witch, wanting to live. Then speaking to the intruder as if she knew him… Phalomir? Something stirred within, but his feelings pushed all aside.

She was choosing. She was choosing to leave him. Choosing life.

But that must mean, what? That staying with him would be death? He looked at his own hands, red and soft, unused. He then looked back to Shayla, her face showing the difficulty of this decision. A choice was given to her, and she made it. But what of him? What was his choice? Could he not choose for her to remain?
He doesn’t know

Kieran stopped all other thought. He looked at Shayla sharply this time. She was speaking to this Phalomir, this mockery, speaking to him, not to Kieran. Again something twitched deep within, a sharp stab this time, but he remained focused on Shayla.

Kieran was a clone of Phalomir, that had already been stated. Kieran had heard it. But he really didn't know it. Not yet. Either that or he didn't want to believe it.

So Shayla answered his question with another question, her greeny-blue eyes peering into his own. "Are you certain you remember nothing of your past? Not of your time with me, but before that, before I even came to be with you? What of your beginnings?"

She quieted with nothing more than that, arching an eyebrow, pushing him to think.

[ 01-01-2019 07:52 PM: Message edited 1 time, lastly by Shayla Stargazer Petrolu ]

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