"The Dark Lord is currently sequestered with the Dark Lady," she stated formally. "But I shall hasten to his sanctum, and shall wait without to present him with your request the moment he becomes available.

"Is there anything else you may wish to ask of him as well?" she finished before falling silent.

"Ummm...no," he said instead, realizing how stupid he probably sounded. As the attendant began to turn away, however, something did cross his mind.

"Uhhhh...wait."

The attendant paused, turning and tilting her head questioningly, but yet in a regal fashion.

Jasyn noted how much he hated how they could do that...

"Let him know that Panthar Dantares, and a comrade of mine by the name of Matt Stanza, left here some time ago to head to K'eel Doba to speak with the Dark Lady's daughter. Neither has been heard of since, despite the fact my comrade had a commlink. I intend to determine what has happened to them."

Whether he cares or not, right? the shoulder devil managed to pipe up and snort.

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

"I shall do as you request," she replied. "Meanwhile, please continue to refresh yourselves, and rest." A moment passed then, a somewhat strange one for the manner in which a certain light seemed to flicker across her shining canary yellow eyes.

She leaned in toward him a bit.

"We shall do everything in our power to find your friends," she breathed in the barest of whispers, before she straightened quickly upright once again. Now returning to her former demeanor, she bowed her head, turned, and without preamble departed.

The Great Doors to the Dining Hall oiled easily open at her lightest touch, allowing her to exit into the corridor without. The dark, stone walls were covered with mystic runes and glyphs, come glittering with inset jewels, and as she moved swiftly and silently past them became more and more ridden with strange mossy growths. At length the corridor came to an end; to either side it formed a T-intersection, while directly before her stood a nondescript door. Ignoring that door, she turned to the right, and continued onward.

At length the new corridor through which she traveled grew narrow, darker, danker; the stone beneath her lightly tripping feet grew less even, bumpier, at times slippery with strange growths. The sconces lining the walls at regular intervals grew farther and farther apart, until at length there was barely one for every 100 meters. She paid the gloom no mind, but continued onward; the conditions were intended, after all, to dissuade further inquiry by those not of the Sorcerer's clan. But even the lowest of the Temple's attendants had magicks at their disposal, and as a result she found her way as easily as if the floor were made of Corellian marble, lit with the grandest of crystalline chandeliers.

A darkened void presented itself out of the gloom. She stopped, took a quickly furtive look about. Reached into that Void, and fingered the mossy growth in a particular way. It responded obediently to her touch, writhing about to take on a peculiar configuration. She leaned in closely.

"I have much to tell you," she whispered softly.

Quickly then, she backed away and continued her journey into the depths of the Great Temple of the Sorcerers. Behind her the mosses writhed but a bit, then resumed their former shape.

At length she came upon the immense ornate double door leading to Dark Lord Aelvedaar's Sanctum Sanctorum. There she came to a stop, and stepping a bit to one side folded her hands inside her sleeves, lowered her head in due respect, and waited for her Dark Lord to grace her with his presence.

He highly doubted that the Dark Lord of the Sorcerers was going to care about Matt's well-being...

With effort, he wiped the look off his face and directed his gaze back to Cazun, whose brandy glass was nearly drained.

Hey, she did just offer you more refreshment. And yes indeedy, that is more brandy over there...

An annoying angel popped up on Jasyn's shoulder. You have to say sober and deal with this pal. Terrin and Matt aren't here. And Cazun is new to all this.

Jasyn scowled again...

...and decided that a glass or two more couldn't hurt.

You are a perfectly functional drunk, buddy, snickered a shoulder devil.

"Well, I guess while we wait we might as well keep enjoying the bounty that has been provided," Jasyn said in Cazun's direction. "And maybe I can answer any other questions you may have, since you are here."

Yeah, stuck here, came a final, and rather annoying, mental addendum.

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

He blinked again, at a sudden loss. Then an idea struck, an absolutely wonderfully brilliant idea.

"Th's M-matt," he fumbled through annoyingly thick lips. "Who'zee?"

Satisfied that he'd made Jasyn happy, he settled back with the godly green liqueur, and took another great draught from the seemingly bottomless goblet in his possession.

Now you know what Terrin and Matt have been putting up with for so long.

Jasyn shook his head at this thought, cursing himself for not trying to find out what happened to Matt sooner. Not that he'd had much of a chance to do so, however.

"Matt is a coworker of mine at Eagle Enterprises, the right-hand man to my boss. He pretty much knows everything about the company that Terrin Danner, said boss, knows. And he has been around with us for almost all of our dealings with the Sith."

Jasyn paused, taking a good swig of brandy himself, letting its fire burn down his throat.

"...and he has been a very good friend who has put up with me regardless of how annoying and stupid I can be at time."

...and how drunk you are, no? added a shoulder angel.

Taking another sip of brandy, Jasyn noted to himself he really had to get a handle on his shoulder beings...

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

I glide to the doors; they open with but the slightest gesture of one finger. The serving girl without jerks at my sudden appearance, but politely keeps her eyes averted.

"Speak," I command, keeping my voice quiet to soften the words into a request. She obliges, and I find myself more thoroughly informed as to the affairs of things occurring upon my Daughter's Chosen World.

It saddens me to hear how power, power to be used to the good of all, has been maligned into something lesser than a mere commodity. That two beings known to my own Chosen Daughter have gone missing distresses me, but that this has obviously occurred on our Sister World is inconceivable. My first thought is to send back the message that the Dark Lady is due back momentarily, and that she will of course set immediate search procedures in motion, when the thought crosses my mind that perhaps that would not be the case. Not immediately, that is; the young human female means the world to Jharmeen, and I know she will not rest nor turn aside from the task she -- we -- have taken upon ourselves to save her.

Lifting a clawed finger to the servant, I turn aside, move to an ornate gilt table upon which lay rolls of parchment and writing instruments. Taking these in hand, I make a Writ of Global Abeyance:

Let all of K'eel Doba cease and desist in all efforts but that of finding the whereabouts of the two missing men, Panthar Dantares and Matt Stanza, and furthermore give to the bearers of this Writ all assistance and due respect they would award unto me, Dark Lord Aelvedaar..

This I hand to the servant.

"See they receive the ship that they need, with the best pilot available on so short a notice."

I know our Sith ships are difficult to pilot; there have been very few who are not Sith who achieved this thing.

The servant takes the Writ daintily in claw, bows and leaves. And I return forthwith to my Sanctum, there to await the return of my Daughter, her Lord, and all others who would be with them in the dreary space outside of Time called The Elseness.

[ 12-20-2012 10:54 PM: Message edited 1 time, lastly by Aelvedaar ]

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

Her haste did not deter her from making a brief pause to send yet another cryptic, magical announcement of these unfolding events to the unseen Sith on K'eel Doba...

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

Shortly thereafter, and she was back in the Dining Hall. Slowing her speed down into proper decorum, she approached the booth where the two men and Verpine were seated. After giving them a little bow of greeting, she spoke.

"You are to receive a ship with the best pilot we have at hand," she said, stating the words as exactly as they had been spoken to her as she could.

"You are given your freedom of search with this."

Silently she held out the Writ, and waited for it to be taken and her words acknowledged before deigning to leave them to return to her duties.

..and that the response had been a positive one.

Thank her, you moron, a little voice snorted.

"Ah...thanks," he finally managed, realizing as it came out it sounded really stupid. As he spoke, he opened up the writ...

...immediately noticing that whatever was written on it was not in any language he could read.

Probably Sith. And for all you know it says to imprison you and Cazun...

He looked towards the attendant, who had begun to step away. "Pardon me, but I wonder...

...can you tell me what this says?"

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

Joy and anticipation spiraled violently downward to crash-land in a heap of frustrated disappointment. Clenching her fists, she caught her lip between her teeth.

So close! She had been so very, very close...

Her eyes snapped open to bore into Panthar's own, seeking deep into his mind now, looking for that which may have slipped there unbeknownst to his conscious awareness. But he was telling the truth.

Her shoulders slumped as for the tiniest of moments she let that disappointment well up and swell completely over her. After doing thus, it continued on until at length it had completely flowed away, leaving determination in its wake.

Motioning that Rykounagin dismount, she took firm hold of both the lad and the towering Sith body which held the human essence of Panthar Dantares.

"Come," she said simply, and without preamble rent open the non-reality in which they were held, allowing them entry back into the reality that was the Great Temple of the Sorcerers on Khar Delba. Behind them, two tuk'ata yowled at the loss of their charges, too distraught by the thievery to be concerned by the strangeness of it all.

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

The attendant took the Writ in hand once more, unrolled it, and read in a soft, clear voice:

"Let all of K'eel Doba cease and desist in all efforts but that of finding the whereabouts of the two missing men, Panthar Dantares and Matt Stanza, and furthermore give to the bearers of this Writ all assistance and due respect they would award unto me, Dark Lord Aelvedaar."

Rolling it up quickly, she handed it back to Jasyn, then waited but a hair's breadth to see if he needed anything further from her before continuing with:

"A pilot will come to inform you when your ship is ready," she ended, nodding her head with finality and then departing from their company altogether.

Accepting the Writ back from the attendant, Jasyn found himself at a loss for words once again.

Seems like Aelvedaar, for the moment at least, is in your corner. Now the Warriors on K'eel Doba, however...

Jasyn shook himself from such thoughts, at least for the moment. After all, per what he'd seen via the Octahedron with Aeylmaar, ShaRhylla wasn't presently on K'eel Doba, acting as the Big Cheese. He frowned a bit to himself, trying to recall exactly what all they had seen in the Octahedron that day...

...but it wasn't all coming back. He had, after all, had quite a drinking binge on his way to retrieve Graysith. Such things tend to mess with one's memories...

Finally realizing the attendant was still waiting, Jasyn turned to her with a brief nod. "Thank you and Lord Aelvedaar for your assistance in this," he said briefly then.

As the attendant stepped away then, Jasyn turned back to Cazun, who looked like he was far away in the blissful land of drunkness, and K'kihl.

"I need to let the Boss know I'm headed out after Matt," he said simply then, and having said that, keyed a brief message into his commlink:

Terrin, K'kihl, myself, a new friend, and a Sith pilot will be shortly enroute to K'eel Doba to search for Matt via a Sith ship of some variety. I will update you as we progress.

Satisfied the message was brief and to the point, Jasyn sent it on its way via the highly encrypted, secure channel to Terrin. As he did, he idly wondered about travelling in a Sith ship with a Sith pilot. His hackles raised just the slightest, but he made no mention of this to the others.

"Well, guess we're outta here shortly," he said instead, also doing his best to ignore the fact that he knew the Warriors and the Sorcerers were not necessarily on the best terms with one another.

What if they don't give a damn what Aelvedaar's Writ states they should do...

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

"S'cuse me," he mumbled as he shifted in his seat, raising his goblet to drain the final dregs of the fiery liquid of which he had had far too much in the past hour or so.

But yet, not quite enough to totally separate him from the reality which lay about him. Not... quite.

He lowered the goblet, waved it demandingly toward an attendant who hovered nearby, and then plopped himself forward upon the table. It was lucky for him that his forearm held enough muscle memory to hold him upright; otherwise he would have slapped face-first onto the gleaming wooden surface.

"'t seems to me we gah- we got ouzzeves a ship, goo' buddy!" He raised his glass in a victorious salute, the raised it to his lips in follow-up. Of course the attendant had yet to refill it, having gone back for a fresh carafe of the Sith brandy, Jasyn's fondness and the miner's newfound love of life.

Embarrassed, he lowered his arm, let the goblet clunk to the tabletop.

"We goin' somewheres wi' these people?" he inquired, his attention then drawn away from the problem at hand which was entirely too difficult to focus upon, to the return of the attendant who once more salved his soul with the glistening green fire she poured into his glass. Raising it once more in a salute, he took it to his lips, and downed a good half of it. Quickly then, he finished it off, slammed it down on the table.

...and what needed to be done. First, he rose his own goblet to his lips, draining the remaining Sith brandy from its depths. Then he turned to the others. "I think...."

He paused, pursing his lips at his first choice of wording. "Let's get moving and go find Matt," he then continued, the Sith brandy he had just partaken of giving him some extra resolve. As he did, he stood, first considering asking who was coming along and who was going to stay...

...and then changing his mind entirely. "Let's go."

While the offer is still on the table, came the idle errant thought.

Damn those shoulder devils...

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

A mere moment ticked by, and perhaps not even that. In that span of time, Shayla's eyes remained locked on IllaAnda's, her spoken dare falling seemingly on deaf ears.
And in that span of time the fading human portion of herself struggled to make itself heard within against a seemingly stronger and stronger weight. Still, she struggled, with herself and with what she now most certainly had become. But even so, she still sought that One Single Individual whom she loved yet despite herself...

...and whom she longed to be with once again even now, as in the past, a past that she had never been able to let go of, a past which she blamed herself entirely for losing.

And it was she, after all, whom she had done this all for anyway. There had been the vision of Graysith, with a babe in her arms, stepping off the side of a cliff as Phalomir's hands rose in triumph. But it was at this very moment that the last shred of what was Shayla saw fault in her interpretation of events. For as it had been with Anakin Skywalker, whose actions to protect his wife had indeed lead to the demise he had forseen instead, perhaps the babe in Graysith's arms had not been one born of her and Phalomir after all...

A jolt shook Shayla's very being, a jolt that she somehow knew could be felt across the link she yet shared with Jharmeen. But it was, perhaps, too late. For She who was in Control sensed this as well. And, staring into the darkening eyes of IllaAnda, the Shayla that was becoming wanted the Power now offered...

...especially considering He was merely standing there, doing absolutely nothing but querying stupidly about the Halfling.

What did She matter anymore, anyway? And why didn't he know about her? Shouldn't he?

Shayla's greeny blue eyes darkened, slipping away from IllaAnda's to cut through Kieran.

"The Halfling is the daughter of Graysith..."

She trailed, a black smile forming her her lips as one arm reached backward, pointer finger extended, to indicate the chained, barely alive form behind her. That unworthy, nearly unrecognizable being groaned, perhaps sensing and fearing what was to come next from her lips. "...and Dark Lord Ankrist Roan."

With nothing more than that, she turned her attentions back to IllaAnda. "Well? she asked her, her eyes darkening even further as she tossed her head to the side, her dark blonde tresses falling back to expose her neck, as though she was offering it up. And perhaps she was at that, for what was buried deepy within her had sensed a pull in the last remaining shreds of a connection that she had with the the Other...

...and She who was Now Shayla so very clearly sensed a threat...

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

At length, Erik was satisfied with is work and certain that he had cut the metal so that it could be removed easily, and replaced just as easily. The skies were darkening, so he reached into his bag for a lamp, which he clipped to his belt. He deactivated his lightsaber, but kept it in his hand and ready...

...just in case. Taking great care to move the metal smoothly and as silently as possible, should anyone or anything be below, he pulled up the metal as if it were a door, using the portion that was still connected on one side as a hinge of sorts. As he removed it, he moved his lightsaber, still deactivated, to the ready position, leaving only one hand on the metal as he finished opening the "door."

Nothing untoward happened. Still, a chill raced up Erik's spine as the metal removed revealed a dark chasm below. He waited a few moments, listening carefully...

...but he heard nothing. Furthermore, he sensed no life in the immediate area, at least nothing sentient or large. Gathering his wits about himself, he unhooked the lamp from his weapons belt, and activated it, shining it below.

What he saw next caused his eyes to widen, and his heart to race: A small room, devoid of furniture, save for a small table, with strange gadgets that appeared to be perhaps of use to chart something or other on its surface...

...and on one wall, a large map of the galaxy with a singular spot highlighted in red, a spot Erik recognized instantly based on his knowledge of piloting and star charts...

...the location of a point in space known as Vector Prime, the portion of space from which the Yuuzhan Vong entered into this Galaxy.

And it was here, on Khar Delba....

...a planet that had been dead for the entirety of the Yuuzhan Vong invasion and defeat, and had been before that for some 4,000 years....

[ 06-15-2013 12:20 PM: Message edited 1 time, lastly by Erik Kartan ]

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

...and even more importantly, document his findings. A quick look about confirmed that there was a small ladder leading down into the room. Erik carefully gathered up his backpack, replaced it on his back, and only ten descended the ladder. He made quick work of taking holoimages of the room itself and even more so of the map.

Only then did he pause to inspect the room further, enough to then notice a singular heavy wooden door in one corner of the room. Erik walked slowly towards it, then paused just in front of it. And in that moment something so dark and sinister gripped him he almost couldn't breath.

But this only lasted a moment...

...still, the moment was quite enough. Returning the lamp to his pack, and now gripping the hilt of his lightsaber in his hand, Erik reached for the door handle hesitantly...

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

Panthar merely shook his horned head, and beamed at his surroundings, beginning to take his own steps forward into the Temple when she stayed him with one outstretched hand.

"Wait," she said simply; saying no more she looked about herself that she might determine where it was they had regained the universe that men and other sapients term real.

She found that they were just outside the door to her Adopted Father's Sanctum Sanctorum. It's wooden grandeur glowed with the sheen that only age and care can give to good wood, the glyphs and images carved in the swirling grain standing out in bas relief. Smiling, she took a step forward, reached out and ran one finger along one of the images; as if that motion alone had called out to the inhabitants of the temple, there came the sudden sound of footfalls behind her.

She turned to find a female Sith with canary yellow eyes hastening by.

Drawing herself upright, she stayed her with an imperial gesture. "Please take these guests to the Dining Hall, where they might rest and refresh themselves. Prepare rooms for them in the Second Hall; each one having his own. I shall join them shortly to break my own fast."

Whether or not she found the comment that the Lady planned on breakfasting with the pair seemed odd, for indeed it was early evening in the city, the servant made no indication. She merely bowed, turned to the pair, and ushered them off. The Dark Lady watched her departure, her violet eyes glittering in the dim light of the corridor, and was turning to knock discreetly on the door when it hit her.

She gasped, a hand flung to her head, and fell to her knees.

Shayla! My Adept; oh my dear Sister -- in danger!

For a moment she remained thus, her knees pressed into the cold stones of the corridor, one hand holding her there, the other clamped to her temple, letting the surprising and otherwise welcoming knowledge that the Link was back, it was no longer broken, she had connection with her beloved Sister again fight battle with rising, gut-wrenching panic that Shayla was in the greatest danger of her life.

Moments passed while the battle raged. Then she jerked her face up, her flaming hair flinging about like some fiery nebula, and rose to her feet like the warrioress she knew she was going to have to be.

Again.

"I am coming, my Adept," she whispered to no one. Then with no further ado she reached out with her talents and rent open yet another portal through the very interstices of space and time, and taking a deep breath, stepped through.

((Follow Graysith into The Hands That Rock The Cradle in the "Jedi/Sith" forums, thank you.))

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

Blinking, he turned his head, and then blinked harder so the three towering images standing quietly there would resolve into one. That didn't work; he closed one eye, peered at the stranger. Whoever it was it was big and red and possessed horn and claws and fangs and eyes the color of...

Nothing.

Those eerie eyes stabbed through his stupor, sending a shiver up and down his spine, until he realized the giant was speaking to them, something about departing...

A flash of lucidity -- this must be their promised pilot.

"Le's go, par'ner!"

With that he let his goblet fall from his hand. It struck the tabletop, rolled off the edge and crashed to the floor...

Flippin' bloody hell!

Jasyn knelt on the ground, quickly assessing Cazun's vitals, already knowing full well the only thing the matter with the other man was that he'd had way too much to drink.

Oh dear gods, payback was you know what...

Jasyn shook his head, reaching one hand out and using the back of it to lightly smack Cazun on the cheek. "Hey, pal, snap out of it!"

All the while knowing full well it wouldn't do a lick of good. Cazun slumbered blissfully on, truthfully probably needing the downtime after all they had been through...

...and would be going through.

Jasyn sighed.

Thank the Maker he really didn't even know the half of it.

"He'll be alright," Jasyn then spoke aloud to no one in particular, even as the rather large Sith pilot moved to easily get Cazun off the ground, simultaneously motioning for them to follow. As they did, Jasyn tried his best to ignore the voices of his rising inner demons, reminding himself that this was the only way, for the moment, they would have any chance of getting to Matt.

Dear gods, he would never forgive himself if he wasn't alive...

In a very short span of time a still-slumbering Cazun, K'khil, and Jasyn...along with the Sith pilot...were all aboard a pristine little Sith fighter and enroute to the sister Sith world of K'eel Doba.

All the while Jasyn was really wishing he could have another drink...

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

There was none to be found anywhere in the vicinity.

Forcing himself to calm down, running a quick mental calming exercise, Erik pulled the door open...

...and was met with a blinding light as he did. The light was so bright, in fact, that he had to cup a hand over his eyes for a moment as he stepped inside. But even still, he didn't let go of the hilt of his lightsaber, as though expecting something to rush on him out of nowhere.

But nothing did. Still as his eyes adjusted to the light, what he saw caused him to take a few involuntary steps back until he was stopped by the stone wall behind him. His brown eyes widened in an admixture of horror and surprise.

There before him, lay a med table, with open restraints where arms, hands, legs, and feet would generally fall and a couple of rolling trays with surgical instruments.

What the hell was this place? First a map with Vector prime, and now a small, surgical lab of sorts...

Taking further notice of all that was laying about, and beginning to once more document with holopics, Erik noticed to the side a small table, set up with a single chair, neatly organized with rather archaic writing and graphing utensils on its surface. Erik stepped up to it, looked down upon a padd in the center of the table...

...and froze. He could not read the language on the padd, although he was fairly certain it was not Sith. And he most certainly would not have been able to make out what looked to be a formula of sorts written on the bottom even if he had been able to read the language. What he did recognize, however, was the drawing of a small child, small horns atop his head...

...but with an oddly sloping forehead and grayish skin...

...like the Yuuzhan Vong.

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

Still, after carefully taking holopics of everything in the room...from the desk to the surgical table and instruments...without moving them at all, Erik settled on the ground, legs crossed, and closed his eyes, seeking the Force for calming and rejuvenation while also tapping into it to keep his senses trained keenly on anything outward that might disturb him. As he did, Erik unconsciously shook his head, a realization slamming home for him.

Why had he turned away from all of this for so very long? It still felt strange to him, having not relied on the Force with any great conviction for such a long span of time, but it also felt genuinely right.

Erik took a deep breath, analyzing this thought no further, but simply letting himself fall into the Force and become a part of it. For a long span of time he remained unmoving, and at peace.

But then it happened: Mental images, of events that may or may not have happened, yet...

...but with one he had loved greatly.

Standing in the center of a strangely lit room Erik couldn't really make out and certainly didn't recognize she stood, wearing a loosely fitting, sleeveless gown. On her face was a smile, but the look in her eyes was dark as the skies before a storm.

And as Erik regarded her further from his vantage point in the midst of this vision, one thing became apparently clear:

Her stomach, usually flat and toned, bulged, evidencing that she was great with child. Stretching out her arms then, she reached out as a large figure, one Erik could not make out, came to her. She wrapped her arms around the figure, and it descended upon her, first in seeming affection...

...but sounds of passion morphed into screams of agony. But they were laced with frighteningly demonic laughter, at first only coming from the two.

But at length seeming to come from the very walls of the room itself.

Erik's eyes snapped open, and he swallowed hard.

What was this...?

With effort, he forced himself to remain calm, but likewise praying to the gods that this was only a vision that was a product of what he had seen in this place and nothing further. Closing his eyes once more, he sought for the Force for calm once more...

...and after some time, was able to establish just that, remaining in meditation for a few more hours before replacing his pack on his back with all of his materials in tow. He returned to the ladder he had entered upon, made his way upward, and after using the "door" he had created only hours before stepped into what was then a dawning day. Only after making certain the metal "door" was replaced as much as he had found it and recovered with snow and ice, Erik began to reach for his pack for his direction finder...

...then froze. Not due to any incoming threat either sensed or not, but for another reason entirely. Drawing from the Force for guidance, Erik began once more to walk....

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

After dropping off Rykounagin, and then being shown to his own sleeping room, Panthar dismissed the attendant and intended to get some long deserved rest. But as he settled down, he immediately grew restless. He donned a clean robe, suitable for his size, and wandered into the hallways. He wandered on until he could recognize landmarks from his previous stays here, then turned his focus to finding the great hall.

“Sure,” he muttered, “dismiss the person who was going to show where to find this place.”

Eventually he came upon the large doors and breathed triumphantly. Still weary, he pushed the doors open and stepped inside. The hall was sparsely populated, and all of people he could see were Sith, but he had been without the company of anyone “normal” that he didn’t care.

The smell of food made his stomach rumble, and the hard benches even looked inviting to his sore legs. The pain in his legs then reminded him of the ache in his back, running from his shoulders all the way down to his thighs. He stretched slightly to the left and felt a pop that send a jarring bolt up his body. Yup, that hurt.

He strode in and looked around. No-one was paying him any attention. Normally, that wouldn’t have bothered him, but he was suddenly desperate for interaction that didn’t involve floating eyeballs, giant beasties, and the Elseness.

He smiled and called out jovially.

“Hey! Anybody know where a guy can get a back rub around here?”

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

Shayla had felt this soul-ripping pain before. Regardless of what it was that she carried within herself, the agony was the same. Whether life or non-life, her body responded in quite the same way it had the day she had lost her dear little Zackary.

Oh, Zackary, how I failed you. I wasn't strong enough....

...and how I fail you even still.

There, on the non-ground of the Darker Realms, Shayla convulsed, her heart pounding, sweat pouring from her body. She groaned, and it was as though every muscle in her body was contracting.

And perhaps that was precisely what was happening. And as it did, that which was Shayla felt the life....

...yes life...! that had been developing within her slipping away. For while it had been partially of the Dark One, that which had been developing was also partially she, Shayla Stargazer Petrolu...

She who yet lived.

And it was She who once more opened the link with one Jharmeen Jhin'Darr Qutaro, the only Sister she had ever known, while simultaneously taking hold of the human body which was hers, to rid herself of That which linked her to this awful dark place.

As the contractions lessened, two unformed sacs of flesh lay on the ground in a pool of blood, the tension in Shayla's muscles finally slackened.

And she that was within pulled fiercely on that Link, knowing that Time was of the Greatest Essence...

[ 10-13-2014 08:29 PM: Message edited 1 time, lastly by Shayla Stargazer Petrolu ]

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

I shake my head, turn away from the Octahedron, attempt to still my misgivings with a snort of derision.

"It is simple stress," I say to myself. "Stress from all we have gone through, for the death and uncertainty and certain knowledge that there is an enemy amongst us whom we have yet to ferret out. Who hides behind apparent evil, evil it would distract us by, while it sets in motion that which would--"

Which would what?

That I do not know. I must be patient, and wait. As did the one I made Graysith once place her trust in me, now must I place my trust in her.

She is the Link through which Others will join and together reveal this enemy most dire. Whether solution to our quietly building predicament will also lend itself to us is something that not even the Octahedron would reveal.

Even if it could.

I sigh, and taking a step forward place a palm against its glacial surface, sensing the tumultuous heat of the improbability roiling within. I lean my forehead against it, cooling my suddenly fevered brow.

"Be safe," is all I can whisper. Then I turn from its enigma and face the door to my Sanctum Sanctorum, responding to the certainty that One of Importance will soon be forthcoming.

I place my hands in the sleeves of my robes, and wait.

[ 03-25-2015 01:38 PM: Message edited 1 time, lastly by Aelvedaar ]

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