Prologue: Cold Desert
Author: Rochelle B/Acharya
In Game Classes: Fem!Sith Warrior (Juggernaut), Male!Sith Inquisitor (Sorcerer)
Pairings: Fem!Jugg/Malavai Quinn, Male!Sorc/Revel*
Warnings: Language, violence, blood, and all those other things that make dark side Sith dark side. *Also a healthy smidge of homosexuality, so if that is the sort of things that offends you I'd back out now, I shall think no less of you.
Summery: She was the strong one, powerful and burning hot. He was the smart one, wicked and cold as ice. Together they will change the face of the Empire, or die trying.
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Chapter Two
Pushes out this breath
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Alaian descended into Spindrall's 'home', a calculating expression on his face. Other acolytes, all clad in robes and on their knees, filled the room and he could feel their eyes on him as he walked past them. Talaa stayed at the bottom of the stairs, twirling her training saber anxiously. They'd made short work of the rest of the tomb, the woman cutting down slugs that crossed their path. He'd allowed it, too busy trying to fight off the bone-deep weariness that was slowly creeping it's way through him to put up any protest.
Spindrall rose from his crouch and turned to face him, robes flowing around his body as he did. "Slave, welcome to my humble home. You are here for your trial, yes. Learn the ways of the Sith from a muttering old man in a tomb."
Alaian was taken aback, not sure what to make of the old man. He had power, yes, but Alaian couldn't see his aura to even begin to consider it. The old man smiled, showing off rotting teeth.
"You have the power of true sight, but it is raw and weak, untrained. You won't be reading anyone with any actual ability, so I suggest you save it for your fellow acolytes."
He scowled down at the hermit, a flush of embarrassment racing up his body. "My trial then."
Spindrall laughed, harsh voice bouncing off the walls, before gesturing at the kneeling figures. "These are failed acolytes. They would kill you for your spot without thought and so you must be willing to do the same. The girl isn't to help you."
With that Spindrall turned from him and returned to his kneeling position. Alaian drew his training saber, eying the six figures warily. Their power was also hidden to him and, he had to confess, it put him on edge. He was used to the world being a kaleidoscope of color, but it was becoming clear that he wouldn't have that to fall back on anymore.
At least he'd been able to read the rest of his group.
The first two acolytes rose, weapons drawn. He threw his energy at the first, sending the man to his knees with convulsions. The second he focused on, pouring lightening into his body. The acolyte didn't scream but instead tried to force through the pain to get close enough to strike him. Alaian was able to duck a swipe from the first, now recovered acolyte and catch him in the gut with his own weapon. The third was rushing him and held up his weapon to block the incoming swing, arms screaming with pain as the force of the other acolytes blow ran through him.
Talaa stirred by the stairs, posed to jump in should he look like he couldn't hold his own. She was pacing back and forth, every bit a caged and furious animal. Her anger reached for him, adding to his own. He pushed back and knocked the acolyte back a few paces. The other three were up and creeping closer, each desperate for the killing blow. They wanted what was his and he would be damned before he left any of them have it.
The tiredness in him faded, forced down by determination. He slammed his hands into the ground, using it to channel like he used his hands. His attackers were thrown to the floor, caught by surprise as the ground heaved beneath their feet. He was up and on one of the prone forms before any of them had recovered, bringing his weapon down with all the strength he had. The next two fell easily, still dazed after being thrown off their feet. The last was up and staring at him, fear and panic warring on his face.
"You can keep your spot." The acolyte was backing away towards the stairs. "I don't want to die, I just want off this rock."
"Ok." Talaa shoved her saber through the acolytes chest, lips twisted into a mocking smile. The man slumped forward and the weapon slid out with a wet noise. She held it up to her face thoughtfully. "Hn. Cracked it."
He tossed a glare in her direction but she just shrugged, not looking the least bit contrite. Not that she would, Talaa didn't know the definition of the word. He stepped over the fallen men and returned to the hermit, who was starring at him, eyes dark and impossible to read.
"I suppose it will do." The old man said finally. "Listen acolyte, and remember these words. Peace is a lie, there is only passion. Through passion, I gain strength. Through strength, I gain power. Through power, I gain victory. Through victory, my chains are broken. The Force shall free me."
Alaian shivered.
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Talaa looked down at the training blade that she'd 'borrowed' from one of the dead acolytes in Spindrall's lair, all too happy to be rid of it and pick up something a little more...substantial. She glanced back to look at her brother who, without picking up his head, raised a hand to indicate that he was at the very least still breathing.
Alaian had finished talking to the weird old man then followed behind her slowly, until the got to the armory. He'd sat at the entrance, leaning against the wall and just...deflating. She'd hovered over him for a few minutes, worried in a way that she only felt for her twin. She could feel her tired he was and knew he was conscious by sheer force of will alone. They'd been at this for a few hours and already they'd both pushed themselves harder than they'd ever needed to before. She hid it better, but she wondered if that was because she used her abilities less...externally than 'Lain opted to.
"Go get your fucking sword." Alaian grunted. "The sooner you're done the sooner you can carry me out of here."
She'd smirked then bound into the room, eying the powered down droids suspiciously. They didn't stir as she moved past them, but she found something about them made her very uneasy. They weren't here for no reason, that much she was sure of.
Still, as she came to a halt before a collection of gleaming swords she let her concern fall away. She put her hand out and let it drift over the assembled weapons before drawing one carefully. She gripped it with both hands, testing the weight of it, then nodded in satisfaction. It would do nicely.
Now, to bloody the thing.
A sound, like something powering up, was followed by an annoyed curse from Alaian. She turned in time to see that some of the droids had come to life and had set their sights on her twin. She growled, gripping the hilt of the weapon tightly. This seemed like it would be amazing practice.
She threw herself forward, trusting that she would land where she needed to be, and deftly removed the head from one of the droids closest to Alaian, who couldn't be bothered to stand up. Instead he just rolled his eyes at her. She heard more of the things powering up behind her and smiled.
She'd been bone tired a moment ago but now that the fight was on she could feel power flowing through her body, setting her skin aflame. She roared, a noise that would have made a living enemy consider it's actions, then jumped and struck the ground with her fist, mimicking something she'd seen Alaian do earlier. The ground cracked beneath her fist then shattered from the force of her blow, sending her enemies crashing to the ground. It didn't take much more to dispatch her enemies.
When she was done she stood over her twin, smiling widely. Blood dripped down her arm in thin rivers and her knuckles looked utterly ruined, but there was no pain, only power, and the red film of rage over her eyes.
He smiled back then thrust up his hand. She grabbed it, shivering as a chill began to creep its way into her from where their hands clasped. She breathed out, become calmer with every moment, and hauled him to his feet.
"Lets get out of here."
"But I have yet to bloody my blade."
He sneered at her. "I'll let you kill everything we see on the way out then."
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Talaa separated from her twin once the academy was in sight. They agreed to meet up in the morning, for the next set of trials, and then he wandered away from her. She made her way to where Tremel had indicated he would be, staring in awe as she made her way through the academy. It was sight to behold; all dark stone, banners four times her size, and statues that seemed to crackle with power. Other Acolytes and overseers milled about, a few nodding acknowledgment as she passed. She was among peers now, and she vowed to herself that she would make sure that all of these people were beneath her and Alaian soon enough.
She turned down a hallway, noting two men of about her age standing a few meters ahead. The larger men nudged his friend and nodded in her direction. She frowned, instantly on edge. She could trust no one, except for her brother, and as tired as she was she would happily cut down anyone who threatened her. She would not, in respect of the rules, be making the first move.
She'd have to learn to curb her temper, for now.
That thought in mind she descended the stairs, not surprised when the slightly man called out to her.
"Hey there, acolyte, let me get a look at you."
She smiled. "Most men at least tell me their names before making such requests."
Much to her delight he actually went pink all the way up to the tips of his ears before forging on as if she hadn't spoken. "So you're Tremel's secret weapon then? Impressive to be sure, but I'm afraid the old man has waited too long to make his move. I'm Vemrin and unlike you I've fought and bleed for everything I have. I demand respect."
Talaa arched an eyebrow and her fingers itched for her new blade. Perhaps it wasn't bloody enough. "Are you saying I haven't fought to get here?"
"Please, everyone knows what Tremel is doing." Vemrin scoffed. "Perhaps if he had brought you in a year ago, when I'd first arrived, you might have had a chance, but now it's too little too late."
Talaa hummed softly and allowed her mind to slide to more amusing thoughts. Vemrin was far more boring than he had hope. He had a pale throat and a weak neck. She would be able to snap it with ease, or perhaps slit it and bring a little color.
"This is stupid Vemrin!" The large oafish man at his side declared. "Let's just kill her and hide the body!"
Talaa perked up. This one was far more interesting. Vemrin however waved his hand dismissively, disappointing Talaa even further. He was shaping up to be extremely worthless.
"We aren't on Balmorra anymore, Dolgis. There are rules. Traditions. We'll leave the shortcuts to Overseer Tremel and his last pathetic hope here."
Talaa smiled pleasantly. "I'm going to crush you, take what's yours, and then kill you. And your friend, I suppose, if he wants."
Vemrin rolled his eyes, seemingly unimpressed. Talaa pouted. "You have no idea the enemy you're making. Coming Dolgis?"
"In a moment Vemrin." The large man was glaring down at her, clearly lacking his friends restraint. Talaa bounced on the balls of her feet, allowing herself to become hopeful. Vemrin nodded and strode away, bumping against Talaa as he went. Once they were alone Dolgis strode forward, invading her personal space. Her heart began to beat faster.
"Acolyte aren't allowed to murder each other here, but it's only murder if there are witnesses." She agreed, actually. "No more warnings and no more threats. Vemrin is Alpha here and if you want to survive you'll stay out of his way."
Talaa leaned in, slow close that someone might have mistaken what was going for a romantic moment. His breath hit her lips and she couldn't help but note the sour smell. "So. We won't be fighting right now then?"
He shoved her back into the wall but she caught the nervous look in his eyes. He walked away and she followed him with her eyes until he rounded the corner. So much for that.
Vemrin. How oddly close to vermin.
She finished her trek to the Overseer's office, casting her eyes on the girl he was talking with. She was a tiny thing with dark skin and dark eyes, with a slight resemblance to Tremel. A new player perhaps?
Tremel held up a hand to silence the girl when Talaa entered. "Ah, you've returned. You seem to be in one piece. Tell me, how do you like your new blade?"
Talaa removed the blade from it's place on her back and smiled slightly. "I hope it's thirsty. I will be drowning it in the blood of my enemies."
"What are you doing father!" The girl demanded, glaring at Talaa with surprising heat. The scars over her eye, three long lines that looked to be made by claws, seemed to raise up in response to her anger. "I've only just gotten my warblade and I've been here six months."
Tremel frowned slightly. "I have my reasons Eskella and you will not breathe a word of this to anyone, is that clear?"
"Yes, yes father." Eskella said, voice sullen. "I will keep my silence about your new charge, but I won't be around when it blows up in both of your faces." She cut her eyes over at Talaa one last time then stormed form the room, clearly still very upset.
"Don't mind her, she's just upset I'm keeping secrets. She growls but she is loyal." Tremel scrubbed a hand over his face and she wondered who exactly he was trying to convince: her or him. "Now, I thought I heard Vemrin's voice. Has he made his move so soon?"
Talaa shrugged. "I was unimpressed."
"Do not underestimate him. He is mixed blood, a sign of how relaxed admission has become in the search for sheer numbers, but he is smart. While you yourself are of...unfortunate birth, you are at least Sith. People like Vemrin are an invisible rot that eat away at the power of the Empire."
Talaa wasn't sure what to make of that and instead nodded slowly. "So you're an elitist snob."
Tremel's lips switched up into a smile. "You say that as if it is a bad thing when really it's just the Sith way. The strongest survive and the weak are culled." He clasped his hands behind his back and began to pace the room. "Unfortunately Vemrin had caught the eye of Darth Baras, one of the most influential Sith Lords. He's being groomed to be Baras' new apprentice and with that kind of power at his fingertips he could change the Sith for the worse. This is why I must act now, and why you will move on to your second trial tonight."
She nodded again. She wanted to rest but she also understood that a Sith must be prepared to continue on in even the worse of circumstances and power through fatigue and mortal wounds in the name of their cause.
"There are three prisoners upstairs and you will be deciding how they will be sentences. Listen to each story carefully because your decisions will be scrutinized. Let your passions guide you."
"Of course."
"When you are done you will report to Overseer Ragate. She is...an interesting woman, but old and powerful. You would be wise to listen to whatever she predicts for you."
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Talaa stood in front of the old woman, Alaian at her side. Ragate looked first at her then at her twin, before offering a slow dark smile. "You've been sent for the ritual of blood and bone. Someone must think highly of the two of you indeed. I see much strength and potential, but we will see if you are worthy."
She made a gesture for them to follow then started down a corridor. It wasn't a long one and they come to their destination, a large stone door, just barely cracked upon, quickly. "Through here you will find ritual chamber. You will travel to the back and retrieve a skull from the bone pile."
Alaian lifted his chin, eyes gleaming. "That's the bone, but where is the blood?"
"Clever cruel child." Ragate laughed, apparently delighted by the question. "One of you will retrieve the skull and the other will submerge it in the blood pool. From there we shall see how you fare."
