Author's Note: This is just a little story based off a couple characters from a Star Wars literary roleplaying site. And yes, I am well aware that my tense changes here and there. You'll just have to forgive a poor engineer that has trouble moving away from those technical writing skillz.
Disclaimer: I don't own the Star Wars universe or anything of Mr. Lucas'. However, I do own Sunil and OrisounAsh owns Thaysin, so keep your paws off.
Drip, drip, drip…The echo of water droplets striking the concrete floor near Thaysin's head was enough to rouse him to a semiconscious state. The splash bare inches from his nose and the sprinkling of moisture over his face were enough to bring him completely into the present.
In that moment before true consciousness hits, the boy pries his cheek from the cold ground and sits up. Instantly, he realizes his folly as pain from all over his body hits him like a freight train. He clutches his hands against his head and crumples back to the hard cement floor, curling into a fetal position. His head felt worse than it had the day after he had discovered his mother's supply of Tymyrian whiskey, and the rest of his body didn't feel much better.
As he wallowed in agony and self pity, the events of the past days began to surface murkily in his mind. The kidnapping, the fight, his attempt to flee, the strange rush of something… He wretches weakly at the visions of spurting blood and flying bits of gore crystallize clearly in his mind, melding with the debilitating pain and causing the room to spin even as he squeezes his eyes shut.
Trying to banish the nausea-inducing thoughts causes his muddy memories to clear abruptly. A white-hot flash of anger nearly consumes him. How dare they… Thaysin once again forces himself into a sitting position, this time riding the wave of nausea through its course. Slowly opening his eyes, the boy takes in the scene around him. He appeared to be in a cell that felt small even with his slender 11 year-old frame. The walls were bare, except for the heavy durasteel door on one side.
A sickening stench filled the room, and as Thaysin turned around and searched for both the source of that and the water that had awoken him, he is greeted by the source of both. Glassy, unseeing eyes stare up at him from the upper half of a body sprawled on the floor. The lower half was nowhere to be seen, the body ending abruptly at the hips, with only a gory trail of intestines where the legs should have begun. Horrendous lacerations made it difficult to identify the face, but Thaysin thought the mangled thing used to be his bodyguard.
The boy reaches out towards the dead man's face, then shoves himself backward on his rear until he reaches a wall as far away from the man as he could possibly get. Thaysin was not particularly bothered by the disgusting sight, or even the gut-wrenching smell, but those lacerations… He reaches up, frantically feeling about his face while panting in short, frightened gasps. However, when his hands find only puffiness around one eye and a split lip, he sighs in relief.
Thaysin was a Hapan, and even at his tender young age, he was well aware that his physical beauty was his one greatest gift. Genetically enhanced for perfection, the Hapans barely tolerated those they found to be uncomely, or worse, ugly. The scars that would form from such deep lacerations would ruin any man's beauty for the rest of his life. It was common, when one Hapan family went to war against another, for the victorious side to desecrate their enemies' faces and leave them as hideous living examples of the consequences of standing against their great House. Many such disfigured nobles were unable to bear the shame of their ugliness and committed suicide shortly after being released into the rabble of the planet.
The boy giggles softly to himself. It might have been crueler to leave his bodyguard's face in its natural state before cutting him in half. Thaysin remembered the man having a nose that was, of all things, crooked and a scar down the side of his face that even Hapan reconstructive surgery had been unable to fix. Mother had somehow found the foul beast dashing with his 'war wounds' as she called them, and appointed the fellow to watch over and protect her son. Thaysin had found him unbearable to look upon and had insisted on the man wearing a scarf about his face when in his presence.
But, as Thaysin snickered at his guard's fate, another thought occurred to him. Why hadn't his captors disfigured him? It didn't make any sense. While the boy pondered his fate, something heavy hit the door to his cell with a resounding thump. Thaysin jumps to his feet and raises his fists. If his captors had some demonic plan in mind, he planned on making them pay dearly for its success.
As the now-very-dead guard slid down the door, leaving a trail of blood behind, Sunil frowns. With a less invigorating splat, the man collapses fully against the floor, twitching slightly as his nerves jumped in response to stimuli long past. Sunil wiggles his lithe blue fingers, muttering aloud to himself. "I thought I was better than that. Five seconds of suffering, where's the fun in that?" He shakes his head sadly, iridescent locks of feathery hair floating about his head before settling lightly into perfect position. He looks back down the corridor, sighing in disappointment. Bodies littered the stone floor and blood splattered the walls like some artist's gristly abstract painting. All too fast. Sunil liked to savor his kills. Extended suffering could be harvested to increase his power, and surely the pretty little boy he knew to be in the cell didn't need rescuing so badly that he should neglect such delectable agony…
Sunil directs his thoughts through the door and to the determined, yet surprisingly not frightened boy in the cell. Hm, yes, he would be a good selection. Most children his age would be curled in a corner, soiling themselves and crying for their mothers by this point. But this boy had spirit…and something else. Smiling to himself, Sunil stretches out his left hand, grabbing the cell door with an invisible force. He casually clenches his fist and pulls his hand back. The door trembles slightly in place before breaking free with screech.
Thaysin watches, with trepidation and a little awe, as the door to his cell doesn't open, but instead flings itself to the far side of the corridor and shatters. Blinking a few times, the boy gathers himself and follows after the door, only to find himself suspended in the air a few feet from his destination.
Struggling mightily against his invisible bonds, the boy stops short as a form steps through the dust to stand before him.
"Is that stench you, boy? You are far too pretty to smell so rank…" The voice was cruel and cunning, filled with humor at the gristly situation. "What are you staring at, boy?" A small blue man stood before Thaysin, resplendent, if such a word could be used, in glittering iridescent cloak, boots and trousers. Elegantly formed silver pauldrons covered the man's lithe shoulders and his fingers were curled about a long staff of some similar material. At first it seemed the most disturbing feature of the man was his near glowing blue complexion. However, after more scrutiny, Thaysin realized it was the man's eyes. Pupiless and a black that seemed to absorb all light, they didn't seem as if they should belong to any living creature.
Thaysin felt the pit of his stomach knot up, but he pushed the hint of fear aside, shooting the disturbing man his most resentful glare. Puffing up his narrow chest, he responds to the man in a scathing tone. "You're blue. And you're shorter than my mother. Why shouldn't I stare?"
The man's eyes narrowed in irritation and Thaysin began to consider that antagonizing someone that is holding you in midair without any observable means might not be a great idea. Suddenly, the man lets loose a harsh bark of laughter, causing Thaysin to jerk his head back in startlement.
"Ah yes, you will serve just fine indeed." The humor in the man's voice is mirrored in a freakishly white grin. He gestures vaguely in the air and Thaysin bounces in his invisible grasp. "If you behave yourself, I'll release you and we can walk from this place together. If you insist on being the hooligan I sense you are, I'm afraid I'll have to drag you along behind me like a sack of vegetables."
Thaysin frowned. He had been sure this man was here to kill him, or disfigure him. But he seemed intent on none of these things. Perhaps the promise of escape was meant to lure him into a false sense of security so…so… Well, there really wasn't a good reason to do that. However, ruse or not, it would be easier for Thaysin to attempt to make his own escape if he were on his own two feet and not held in some invisible fist. Perhaps he could fool the man into thinking he was harmless. Then he could strike him over the head while his back was turned and sneak out of this place alone.
Thaysin failed to notice the widening smile on the man's face while he considered his options. Finally, the boy is forced to look up when a dark chuckle enters his mind.
"I would prefer my head stay intact. I've had quite enough headaches for one day without my rescue doing me any favors." The man flicked his fingers down, setting Thaysin on his feet, but not releasing him. "Now, are you going to be good?" Thaysin glared, but after a long moment of silence, he nods. The man claps his hands together. "Excellent! My name is Sunil, you may refer to me as Lord Sunil, if titles tickle your fancy."
Thaysin frowns. "Of what noble House are you that gives you the right to call yourself 'Lord'? You're not even Hapan!"
The man, Sunil, smiles again, his gleaming white teeth shining in the dim light. "Why, my boy, I would have thought you could have figured it out by now. I am a Sith Lord."
Sunil struggled not to chuckle at the boy's expression. Awe, horror, and intrigue all blended together to leave him looking more like a lost puppy than the tough, rebellious little lordling he was trying to portray. Sunil could feel him trying not to believe the outrageous statement, but the possibility was just too enticing for him to completely dismiss. The Sith Lord had been watching this boy for quite some time. Thaysin was a curious lad, and had delved deeper into the forbidden and occult than most people dared in their lifetime. And the boy was too clever by half. A little discipline, focus and training and this boy could hold a mastery over the Dark Side to rival Sunil. But the boy didn't realize the power within himself, not yet. The very first hints had shown themselves only yesterday, during the 'kidnapping'.
Sunil releases his hold on the boy's body and turns, striding from the room. He felt the boy pause behind him, then reluctantly fall in step. As they made their way down the corridor, Sunil never once heard the boy gasp, and felt no sickly fear emanate from him, though the gory scene they walked through would have been enough to cause even the most battle-hardened veteran to blanch.
Finally, after climbing several flights of steep stone stairs, they come to a heavy durasteel door that leads to the main level of the complex they were under. This one had not been blasted from its hinges like the rest they had passed through on their way to the surface. Also, the two men who had apparently been standing guard at the entryway looked to be sleeping against the wall, which was very different from the bloody mess in the halls behind.
Sunil turns to the young boy following him and places a finger to his lips. The boy nods in understanding, then follows as Sunil strides confidently through the door. Just outside, four guards sit at a table playing cards. One begins to look up, then seems to suddenly lose interest, cracking a lewd joke and shoving one of his comrades. Sunil snorts at the ease of turning aside the set of minds, thoroughly disgusted by their weak-mindedness.
A sudden small alarm goes off in the back of his mind as he turns away from the fools and he spins with an inhuman speed to catch the blade of a polearm on his staff, the blade halting just an inch from his scalp. The guards stir, their minds freed at the Sith's sudden distraction, and begin to look his way. Meeting his attacker's gaze, a set of sickening pops is heard behind Sunil. The four guards collapse in a red haze. The Sith Lord grabs the polearm and pulls it close. "What, in all that is unholy and chaotic, are you trying to do?"
Thaysin trembles, his pretty eyes going wide as the Sith blocks his strike. Nobody should have been that fast. He was only a few inches away from connecting before the man had even begun to turn. Thaysin felt a true fear begin to grip him as he realizes just what had ahold of him. In a voice a few notes higher than usual, he answers Sunil, still unable to hold his tongue. "T-trying to get away from you!"
The Sith snarls and flings Thaysin against the wall with an invisible hand. The world fades into darkness for a moment and when his senses finally focus again, Sunil stood over him. "Do not play games with me, boy, you will not survive." The Sith's voice was low and harsh and his pupiless eyes glowed eerily. When Thaysin attempts to stand, he feels himself pressed back down, an icy hand pushing the air from his chest. He squirms on the ground, unable to breathe, barely able to move. Above him, the Sith laughs. "Do you see, Thaysin Suresha cos Razir? You cannot defeat me. You cannot escape. I feel the fear flowing through that perfectly engineered little chest of yours. There is potential in you, it burns like a flame. But when fear becomes your master, you become more foolish than a court jester."
While the Sith soliloquizes to himself, Thaysin feels a cold spear of fury shoot through him, erasing the fear that was gripping him. To be lectured at, as if he were some servant boy! The last of his fear is walled up by hatred for this pompous, presumptuous fool. With a howl of rage, Thaysin throws his hands out in front of him. A cone of force so powerful it causes the very air to ripple extends forth from his fingers, blasting into the Sith and throwing him against the wall. He slides down to a sitting position and Thaysin feels the crushing pressure on his chest ease. He scrambles to his feet, swaying as he does so, exhaustion nearly overwhelming him. He turns away from the Sith without looking to see if the man is still alive. However, a thick cough and hoarse voice from behind him cause him to pause.
"Just imagine holding that power in your hands constantly, able to call on it whenever you please."
The man's words wind their way into Thaysin's thoughts, rooting him to the spot. Images flash through his mind, provided by the Sith, even as he sat recovering. Thaysin slow turns around, narrowing his beautiful blue eyes at Sunil. "You can teach me this?" The Omwati nods slowly. "Then I will learn."
Enticing a child to the Dark Side was a delectable task, one few Sith engaged in. Children seemed to have an innate sense of the "wrong" and balked from the path so many beings are attracted to in their adulthood. Sunil found the "hunt" exhilarating and enjoyed the challenge for more than training some hot-shot that wandered into the Academy looking for easy power.
But Sunil didn't engage in this enticement purely to sate some foolish desire for a challenge. No, for the Omwati Sith Lord to take part in such a time consuming endeavor, there must be some pay off equal to the effort required to succeed. The true reason Sunil enticed young children was that by capturing a child before they were fully weaned from their parents or elders, he was able to inspire a sense of loyalty and commitment in the child to himself. He would never fear betrayal from the apprentice at any point. In a society where students almost habitually smote down their masters in the pursuit of power, to have a being that one could turn their back on without fear was an incredible asset.
And this boy, well, he would be quite the catch even if he did turn around in a few years and smote Sunil right out of his shiny pauldrons.
The trip from the Shalhirdon Manor was uneventful as Thaysin seemed to have decided Sunil wasn't going to drag him into a corner and slit his throat. Or maybe it was that promise of power. One could never tell for certain with children. As they arrived at the gates of House Razir, the guards eye him warily. The Sith Master sighs to himself, plastering a smile on his face and placing a hand on his little prize's shoulder. The boy tries to shrug it off, but Sunil grips harder, whispering through his clenched smile. "No running to your mother like a suckling kid."
Thaysin glares up at him. "I wasn't..." His voice cuts off and Sunil winks at him, drawing a finger over his blue lips and mentally rolling his eyes. He waves his fingers and the guards open the gate without pause. As the two pass through, Sunil chuckles to see one of the handsome devils is even smiling at him. It seemed that some people were more than happy to have their free will sucked right out of them.
Through the halls of polished marble and gilded molding the pair were escorted, finally arriving in a very familiar receiving room designed to make the petitioner feel very...small. Three stories tall with sweeping columns and a throne at one end placed on a raised dais to allow the person seated there to look down at their audience like the mice they were. Sunil found the whole thing ridiculous and had struggled not to laugh aloud when he first came here to offer his services in retrieving the young heir of Razir.
"Who comes before the Ivory Throne?" The sharp feminine voice knifes through Sunil's thoughts, nearly causing him to frown in irritation. Instead, he plasters a charming smile on his face, bowing to the small, yet...vicious woman seated above him. Thaysin's mother, the matron of House Razir, was indeed a very small woman; she stood barely a head over her own son, but she was beautiful. One could hardly expect less from a leading House of the Hapans. And with her small stature came an inversely large sense of entitlement. She knew exactly how much power she held in her manicured hands and was in no way shy to employ every ounce of it.
With this in mind, Sunil straightens, sweeping his arm out in an iridescent shimmer to take in Thaysin. "Lo, Madame, I return to you your beloved son and heir. Snatched from the grasp of your most hated and despised enemy. Through trial and tribulation delivered from near certain..."
"Yes, yes. You are the messiah incarnate, I'm sure," the tart woman snapped, interrupting Sunil's grand speech. This time Sunil cannot keep a scowl from his fine features. He despised being interrupted. "And I'm sure you want some reward for this feat." The woman had not so much as looked at her son, choosing instead to intently study the Sith. Cold indeed.
"Madame, it was an honor, nay, a privilege to rescue your son. I could never ask for something in return. The opportunity alone was reward enough."
The woman rolls her eyes, clearly not buying a single word. However, Sunil continues before she can interrupt him again. "But, after marching into the belly of the beast, I cannot help but wonder how safe your son is on this planet. Who will save him the next time, when I'm long gone?"
The matron narrows her eyes. "What do you mean, 'the next time'? I have no intention of letting him be taken from me again."
"Are you saying you intend to have him abducted in the first place? I had thought you a better mother than that, Terakasia." Sunil smiles flatly, savoring the indignation of the woman's expression.
"Your insinuations are not welcome in my House, Sith. My son, my heir, means more to me than you can possibly realize." Her glare was nearly enough to make Sunil chuckle. People were so easy to play. Tickle something sensitive, tell an uncomfortable truth, and they were putty in your hands, something even a toddler could mould.
"Oh I realize much. I realize you protect your son better than any other household of this planet. I realize you are the most envied House on this planet. I realize that this will not be the last attempt on your son's life and that, if allowed to continue, someone, someday will succeed in their gristly endeavor and the long line of your House will end in a trail of blood on a marble floor." Sunil stalks to the very foot of the dais, seeming to meet Razir's matron eye to eye, though he stood several feet below her. "I realize this leaves you with only one option. This leaves me wondering. Are you willing to make the sacrifice to save your son?"
Terakasia sits very still in her ivory throne. The man was bold, no doubt there. And more insightful than his blue skin and ugly black eyes indicated. Oh, he was insulting, to be sure, but he had a point. A very valid one. How would she protect her son when nearly every family around them wanted him dead? She could keep him inside these gates, but to an assassin gates were nothing.
But the ugly blue one had a plan. She could see it shining in his beady eyes. And as much as she hated to admit it, she was curious. Leaning forward, she narrows her beautiful eyes at the Sith Lord. "You are well aware I am willing to sacrifice nearly anything for my son. What do you propose?"
There was that smile again, a quirk of his lips that suggested he knew more than she could even begin to comprehend. It was irritating, almost enraging. Terakasia was used to being in control of every situation. Her wit was as sharp as her tongue and she used it to her advantage. But she couldn't quite guess what was going on in Sunil's mind, though she suspected his plan.
He bows to her again; a mocking gesture. "Madame, you know what I am about to offer. But I sense you want to hear it, nonetheless." He crosses his scrawny arms over his chest. "I will take Thaysin, and I will teach him my art. He will be far from the reaches of your enemies and when he returns he will have more power than you can possibly imagine."
He raises a feathery eyebrow, clearly waiting for her response.
This whole conversation had been very boring for Thaysin. He was an intelligent boy, but still young and was much more interested in playing than in listening to his mother, who cared more about his position in the family than about him, discuss some stupid reward with his savior, who had really been more of a captor. But when Sunil suggested taking him away, his ears perked up. He had nearly forgotten that the Sith had promised to teach him how to shape his anger into real power. The excitement he had felt before began to well up inside him once more.
It wasn't as if he was incredibly attached to this place anyway. It was large, and empty. His mother never allowed him out without an escort and he had no real friends. Even at their young age, Hapan children were vying for power. Thaysin found their attempts at subversion childish, which they were. And the chance to become powerful, to be able to bend people to his will with barely a thought... That was easily worth giving up what little he had here.
He could feel his mother staring down at him from upon that lofty throne of hers. He didn't dare look up. He'd been beaten more than enough times for that. But he did begin to entertain thoughts of displacing his mother from the throne after spending a few years with Sunil. Her nagging voice cut through his oh-so-pleasant thoughts.
"You expect me to give you my only son?"
Sunil chuckles quietly at Thaysin's side, answering bluntly. "Yes."
Silence reigned for many long moments. Thaysin finally chances a glance up towards his mother. She was looking out over his head, resting her pretty chin on a lithe, manicured hand. But it was clear she had made up her mind. There hadn't been much of a choice to begin with, even Thaysin could see that. Finally, she speaks again. "I have been left with little choice it seems. He is to be returned when you have completed teaching him your... 'art'. I won't have him deserting his inheritance."
Thaysin nearly rolls his eyes. She wasn't even trying to pretend that he meant no more to her than a position and a title. Looking away in disgust, he jumps when Sunil places a hand on his shoulder. "Of course, Madame. He will return when his training is complete. Until then, he will be under my watchful eye."
Thaysin wisely suppresses the grin that wants to pass over his young, pretty face. His mother waves daintily with one hand. "Begone then. I have had enough of your blue staining the surface of my marble."
Sunil chuckles once again, stepping behind Thaysin and resting his other hand on his shoulder as well. "Madame." Thaysin allows himself to be turned around at Sunil's urging and begins the long walk toward the chamber doors. Sunil murmurs in his ear as he follows. "We need to work on your ability to control your emotions."