Open Social Jewel Of The Desert

[Darth Arcanos]

Of all the people to emerge and admit to the crime, Trael was the last person he expected. Trael, the man Azar loved and adored for his laidback, casual demeanor. Trael, the man that was human in every sense of the word with simple ambitions and simple goals. Trael, the man that Azar could always lean on because he always kept the Pureblood grounded. He always encouraged the humanity in Azar when he was on the edge of faltering.

That Trael was the first of his partners to betray him.

Azar could only stare at Trael as he processed the news, feeling a lot of things all at once. There was no impulsive move, but the words sank through the surface, past his skull, into his psyche, through his veins. It spread throughout his body like poison, the truth he wanted to deny. The truth that Trael could make such a move without ever consulting Azar.

Had Trael done it himself? Did he torture and torment Trodai while he drew his last breath? Did he make a mockery of Trodai as he killed the man that gave so much to help Azar reclaim his name? Did Trael enjoy watching it unfold, knowing that his helped satiate his own bloodlust more than it ever helped Azar?

Before Azar could say anything, Vossari hugged him. The Pureblood stood stiff and it was akin to embracing a statue, not the warm and comforting man that always sank into Vossari’s chest, the man that fit like a perfect puzzle piece in Vossari’s arms. That man was nowhere to be found, Azar’s gaze fixed on Trael over the Wrean’s shoulder.

His mind had the cherished memories that Vossari conjured, and he could taste the salt in the air, hear the sounds of the waves. While he experienced this, however, the Wrean would learn there was more in Azar’s mind than there had been before. He would see a festering, black presence that pulsed with darkness and rage in a way that transcended the abilities of humans. Vossari would know there was a presence there - something that wasn’t Azar or Arcanos. He would see a brief flash of silver eyes and the face of a teenage boy. The boy began to slowly look towards Vossari, his hands in chains in a place so far away in the realm of the Force. Suspended in time.

Want to play….little fish? The boy asked with a slow smirk.

Before Vossari could make sense of it, he was back into the rest of Azar’s mind, feeling the pain of betrayal and anguish wash over him. Azar reclaimed his thoughts, keeping the dark influence at bay. In the physical realm, the Pureblood gingerly drew back from the hug, taking a moment to gaze at Vossari. He did not look as vicious as he had moments prior, but it was clear he was still furious. Azar grasped Vossari’s delicate chin, gazing into his eyes, “You forget, Vossari,” Azar said calmly, “Your princess is still a dragon,” He stated flatly before turning his attention on Trael.

The Nabooian was thrown into the wall behind him only a few feet away, pinned there as Azar surveyed him. The gesture wasn’t dramatic enough to draw the attention of anyone outside of those in the immediate vicinity.

“You deliberately went behind my back,” He stated as he glared at Trael, “You acted without speaking with me first. You acted without asking me why I protected him. You thought only about yourself and exacting your petty vengeance. And yet you have the gall to stand there and tell me it was to protect my assets? You think my empire is so feeble that the actions of Trodai alone could collapse it?” He took another step closer, keeping the Force hold on Trael in a full body bind as he glared at the man he loved. At the man he cherished so much. At the man that exploited the position that brought him, “No, Trael, you did this for no reason other than to satisfy your selfish bloodlust. You thought it worth turning on me to do it. You thought it was worth betraying me to do it.”

He paused before asking, “How did you do it, Trael? How did he die?”

@Javier esschoolbus @Fine Dining Set

 

[Trael Osso]

Trael wasn’t fool enough to not expect consequences. Yet, when Azar only stared at him when he owned up to what he did, he knew they would be dire. Before Azar could seemingly react Voss hugged him, he could see Azar still staring at him, motionless. He acted as if he didn’t even register the hug. Trael could tell Azar was mad, he was beyond mad. He had seen the Pureblood when he was upset, and the theatrics that came with it. There was none of that, he was calm, cold, and silent. The silence was the worse part of it.

Azar pulled back from the hug, gazing at Vossari, his hand reaching up and grasping the Wreans chin. He reminded Vossari that he was a dragon. That’s when the Force struck out from Azar, pushing the Master against the wall and pinning him down. There was no fight, no resistance, Trael just gazed at Azar waiting for his sentencing. Then Azar began speaking.

Trael’s gaze lowered with each statement. He had went behind Azar’s back, he did so without speaking to Azar, without asking his reasoning for protecting Trodai. Trael acted on his own, without even understanding Azar’s thoughts and feelings on the subject. It was like daggers being stabbed into him, he loved Azar and yet neglected to take everything he thought and felt into account, he just did what he felt was right. He had only thought of himself and his belief of what would protect Azar. Not what Azar felt was a threat. Trael had been too absorbed in his own beliefs, his own worries, that he allowed himself to be ignorant of Azar’s. He failed in his role as Azar’s partner, as his man, as his boyfriend. A partner would work with Azar and build together, not disregard him and act in that disregard.

“Exacting your petty vengeance.” Trael’s gaze flicked upwards in confusion, vengeance? Azar believed he was vengeful of Trodai? The Pureblood had his faults and failings but he had never truly wronged Trael. Trael didn’t do this to settle a score. Trodai was a ruler of Azar’s domain, a general of his troops. Trael couldn’t speak poorly of his rulership, he’d never experienced or heard of it, but there’s the stories of him abandoning his troops during the siege of Murzana. Here tonight he had been overwhelmed by the fleeting superiority he held over Ayomi and paid for it. He had shown himself to be weak. Something others would view and use to potentially harm Azar. Trodai was always on the receiving end of a near death experience. He had failed to showcase strength. Trael may have acted selfishly and without regard to Azar’s feelings and thoughts, but he didn’t do so out of vengeance.

Azar continued, hammering in his disbelief of Trael’s reasoning. He asked if Trael believed the actions of Trodai alone would collapse the empire he was building. That was the surface of that question, Trael knew it was likely more a question of if his faith in Azar was so little to believe he could be undone by Trodai. He then stepped forward, glaring at Trael. “Selfish bloodlust, turn on me, betraying me.” Azar sent more daggers into Trael. Trael acted with finality, he had Trodai killed. He didn’t relish in the fact, it was a necessity at the time, one that couldn’t be taken back. “I did act selfishly. I acted on my feelings and thoughts. I didn’t take yours into account.” He stated as he met Azar’s eyes, “I’ve failed in that continuously.” He said softly, “But I did not act out of vengeance. I allowed a perceived threat to overrule my judgment.” He stated, “I judged Trodai, I have taken his failings as a whole and allowed them to form my perception of him.” He admitted, “It caused me to see how he could potentially be the weakest link in the chain, and be exploited to harm you.”

Azar asked Trael how he did it. How Trodai died, Trael had a rough idea but not the intimate details of it. “Painlessly, he suffered from an overdose of the drugs that were in the room.” He explained remembering seeing a syringe in Iymrils hands when he walked in. “He tried to fight it but was too weak. His last words were of you.” He said to Azar.

@Sreeya @Fine Dining Set

 

[Iymril]

​

Iymril stared off into the sunset, they felt the massive power of Arcanos twist the Dark Side. They knew he knew Trodai was dead. They gingerly pulled the leather ladies gloves from their hands and tucked them into their purse. They rose from the stone bench and clasped their wine glass in their hands. They took one final look at the most perfect thing they beheld and then turned to ascend the steps and potentially face the Dark Lord’s judgement.

As they crested the top stair, Trael was thrown against a wall. All hope of survival fled them. There was no way the Sith Master had gotten to this point without revealing their part in the plan. Iymril brushed their dress smooth, they refused to die without dignity after all. With smooth steps they steadily approached Arcanos.

Upon reached five paces from the Pureblood, they dropped to a single knee. Their dress tore as they did this. Their eyes focused solely on floor before them. It was the ritual position of submission within the Order.

“Darth Arcanos, Dark Lord of the Sith, I cast myself at your mercy as your humble servant.” They began. “I was approached by Master Osso after your dance began with Vossari to complete a task to prove my worth.” They explained. “He led me to the medical bay and explained there was pest that needed to be dealt with within the chamber.” Iymril continued. “I believed that Master Osso acted with your authority, that the execution was sponsored by you and this was a test of my loyalty.” They admitted. “I filled this syringe with insulin found in the room and injected it into Champion Trodai’s IV.” Intimate details that only the killer would know. “The injection point will be found near the mouth of the line, in his final moments he tried to warn me of Master Osso’s treachery…but I believed you had ordered this and he was simply mistaken.” Iymril continued. “It wasn’t until Master Osso instructed me to never have been there that I understood the deception.” Their gaze never broke the floor, their ears dropped completely.

“I am loyal to you my Dark Lord and I beg for your mercy. I was the unwitting tool but did so to earn your trust and favor.”

And Iymril expected the most heinous of demises in those moments. They felt their life was measured in seconds rather than centuries.

“I’m sorry.” They muttered for the first time in their life.

@Sreeya @Javier esschoolbus

 

[Kyssiara Serket]

Kyssiara remained in her kneeling position in front of Darth Arcanos (@Sreeya) after offering the news, trembling and too terrified to move. She heard more voices approach, the champion (@Fine Dining Set) Arcanos had been with moments before and Master Caerllion (@LouJoVi). The acolyte began panicking as she thought of ways to excuse herself from what was likely to become an incredibly tense situation, until an agonizing pressure assaulted her mind. This was the power of a god, a god who's proximity threatened to snuff Kyssiara out in an instant.

The pain was unbearable, leaving the girl unable to even cry out in pain as she clutched her head in agony. Thankfully someone, whether to spare her life or dismiss an unworthy acolyte from the king's presence, flung the Pureblood away with the Force. Kyssiara skidded along the floor, but she had no complaints; the pressure on her mind lessened from one that threatened to utterly crush it to only the worst migraine she'd ever experienced. The girl threatened to lose consciousness, but the sound of voices drew her focus back towards the situation; she had to know what had happened.

The other of the new masters (@Javier esschoolbus), of all people, was admitting to killing her master. But why? Rage burned within Kyssiara as she watched Arcanos pin the man to the wall, or at least as much rage as she could manage with her head feeling like it might explode and spots dancing in her vision. Dreaming of imminent revenge against a Sith Master seemed incredibly unrealistic, not to mention it seemed likely Darth Arcanos would end the man before she ever attained such a level; in the moment, however, Kyssiara could settle for watching in satisfaction as the Sith Lord tore the man apart.

The arrival of professor Iymril (@Apollyon) prompted yet another shocking confession, and though a renewed surge of anger washed over the Pureblood her golden eyes regarded the Sephi with nothing but pitiful contempt. Here was someone she'd grown such quick respect for after witnessing their sorcery skills, groveling for mercy at Lord Arcanos' feet. Someone she'd looked up to as a budding sorcerer, who'd put down her master like some common wounded animal rather than the warrior he was. Someone she'd viewed as a mentor, so easily manipulated.

There was nothing Kyssiara could do — hells, she could barely move — yet hateful fire burned behind her eyes all the same.

 

[Darth Arcanos]

Azar listened as Trael said his piece, noting how there was no emotion on his face. No sign of remorse. No quiver in his voice. No collapse from the weight of betraying the man he supposedly loved so much. Had every word Trael told him all this time been a lie? Had every confession of love been false? And Azar was blind to it? Just as blind as he had been with Trodai. He slowly turned to look for a moment at Vossari.

Just as blind.

He remembered his own emotional declaration to his partners confessing his fears about them turning on him. Fears about being weak. Both of them had so much to say then, but time and time again his faith and love was abused and exploited.

The Force began to tighten around Trael, Azar meeting his gaze the entire time. That was when the Sephi joined the fray and dared interject. The Sith Lord was about to set them ablaze but Iymril took a gamble and began to speak. And it just so happened that Azar was still processing everything and therefore in the mood to listen. Being called Dark Lord certainly exhilarated him. It was the perfect way to get his attention.

Iymril’s account exposed the depths of Trael’s treachery. It became clear that Trodai died alone and confused, robbed of the glory of falling in battle among his kin, robbed of the chance to gaze upon Azar.

“You weren’t even man enough to challenge and kill him yourself,” Azar said calmly to Trael, “You sent someone else to do your dirty work and let Trodai die a pathetic, honorless death,” He said. There was a time where he would have found this impossible from Trael - a man that always dealt with his problems head on. This was low and disgusting. And through it all, he had the audacity to meet Azar’s gaze, he had the guts not to break down from his own shame, he had the nerve to hold his head up high through this all.

It would have been so easy to snap Trael’s neck right there. Azar had killed his own husband, after all. But it only left Azar feeling empty and depressed. No, he wanted to see Trael weep. He wanted to see Trael suffer. There was a time when Azar thought that Trael ever feeling like he hurt the man he loved would be enough, but clearly not. Breaking Azar's trust was not enough to cause pain.

The Force hold on Trael was released.

“Champion Auvryt’tar,” Azar said calmly, his gaze still on Trael, “I have an assignment for you,” He began, “You will travel to the planet Naboo. You will go through a beautiful, scenic path that leads through some quaint villages. You will come across the most adorable little shop called Mama Dolce’s,” He said calmly, his gaze never leaving Trael’s, “You will track down three men named Victor, Alfio and More. I want you to have them witness as you take Mama Dolce, a very pleasant little lady, and torture her in all the worst ways you know. I want the three men to bear witness as you make her suffer. Slowly. Give her death only when the men plead for you to kill her. Then you will kill every man except for Victor. For him, I want you to gather up his wife and children. I want him to witness as you execute his family and then butcher him. Take your time with all this, Champion, make sure it takes days. As you do this, be sure to remind them that Trael Osso sends his regards so they believe this was authorized by Sith Master Osso,” Just as Trodai had to die being told Arcanos authorized his death. He knew Iymril would see it done - the Sephi was known to be sadistic. Azar used the Force to call forth the box with the blade Trodai had given Trael, handing it to Iymril, “Use this weapon to have your fun. Then bring it to me so I can present it back to my delightful partner to possess as a reminder of the consequences of his own actions.”

Just as Trael butchered someone that had lifted Azar from nothing, so too would he suffer the same. The Pureblood floated a wine glass over into his hand as he took a sip, “I hope this doesn’t change anything between us,” Azar said, the faintest smile gracing his lips as he looked at Trael, “..darling.”

With that, he turned to rejoin the party. On his way, he stopped next to Vossari (@Fine Dining Set ), “Consider the repercussions and make sure they're worth it before you inevitably betray me, sweetie,” He whispered smoothly before leaning to give the Wrean a peck on the cheek as he practically glided back towards the dance floor.

Azar would never do this. Azar would never order the torture and butcher of families and children. Azar would never torment a man he loved like this. This was all Arcanos. This was Raze’s influence.

Or was it?

@Apollyon @Javier esschoolbus

 

[Caerllion of Cyfnos]

Caerllion had been preparing to leave for the dissection when Trael arrived. When the human revealed that he was the one that killed Trodai, the Annfyn took it as his cue to slip away. It was a problem between Azar and his partners, they should work it out together. Even if he loved the Pureblood, he was no one that mattered and his presence would only disturb the situation.

Or get himself killed, which was terrible.

He stopped next to Kyssiara, a place where he could still see the entire scene unfold. While Trael revealed his intentions and Vossari hugged Azar, Caerllion contemplated how the two could be so stupid. They had the love of such an incredible man, which was shared between them equally. However, they still seemed to be incapable of accepting or understanding that the King could make his own decisions.

Was Trodai a problem to Azar’s rule? Then they should have asked him what he wanted to do.

Why don't they simply ask Azar what he wants? Or let him do it by himself?

His keen hearing, sometimes a curse and others a blessing, allowed him to overhear some of the whispers that Vossari was telling to Azar. He heard the word princess being said and immediately thought back to their time in Batuu. Yes, the Pureblood could act like a princes, but it seemed that his partners really thought that he was some type of damsel in distress where they needed to make the most difficult choices for him.

Were they aware of who Azar was? He wasn’t made of glass. Caerllion saw this man put an exalted in his knees, making it feel pain. It was more likely that Trael and Vossari needed help to make decisions than the Pureblood. After what he was seeing here, the Annfyn was sure that they needed it.

They were throwing Azar’s love away and making him feel sad. How could they do that?

Then Iymril dragged itself from the trash, putting themselves at Azar’s feet like the dog that they were. Then, they spilled all the beans that still remained in the can. Caerllion felt furious with the Sephi, half for killing his ex-apprentice in such a cowardly way and half because their revelation would be even more painful for the King of Korriban. How he wanted to make that abject and self-serving worm pay, how he wanted to make all the Sephi pay for all terrible things that they did.

A spark crossed his mind. His coronation was near and his first batch of Sith spawn was already matturing. Perhaps Thustra would be a good place for a field test. He was sure that his ancestors would be pleased if he reenacted the Great Genocide, this time with the Sephi. Some of his abominations would love their taste, while others would love to simply mutilate them. The Annfyn would try to sell this idea to Arcanos later.

Caerllion watched emotionless while Azar passed his verdict. He had no idea of who the people that Iymril was going to kill were, but the way that the Pureblood talked made him certain that they were important to Trael, perhaps even his family. Once upon a time, the Annfyn would have been shocked with such punishment. With how cruel it was. However, now he could only stare apathetically. He didn’t care for their lives or the suffering that was going to fall over them. Osso had brought it upon them when he thought that he knew what was best for the red-skinned man.

The Annfyn felt completely impotent when the King passed near him, toward the dance floor. He loved the man, but couldn’t do anything to change the situation. He was no one in the middle of this. The only thing that he could do now was continue his work for the Sith Order and silently support Azar in everything that the man wanted and planned, even if he had to kill entire worlds in the process. Even if he was asked to burn Annwfyn itself.

After all, Caerllion had vowed to Azar that he would walk through hell for him.

He would be the Beast of Judgment for him. His King only needed to point out who needed to be judged and it would be done.

Caerllion would not even blink.

@Sreeya @Javier esschoolbus @Akheron @Fine Dining Set @René

 

[Iymril]

​

Seconds passed like eons as Iymril knelt before the Dark Lord. It wasn’t until Darth Arcanos addressed them that they felt a sliver of relief. He wasn’t going to kill them, at least not yet. Instead, the Dark Lord passed judgement on Master Osso and gave Iymril their first task as their servant.

To slowly and systematically butcher Master Osso’s family.

“As you wish my Lord.” Iymril muttered before standing to their feet.

Iymril felt the gaze of countless Sith upon them. Some looked at them in disgust. Others in horror. A few almost jealously admiring them. Iym didn’t care, they had said what all of them thought but none uttered. Darth Arcanos is the Dark Lord of the Sith. Tempest’s rule was over, her demise a mere formality for the rise of a new Sith Order.

Their gaze turned to fall upon Master Osso. There was an unreadable coldness to the way they looked at the man. He has used them in a game, in a bid to eliminate a rival while abusing his position as a partner to Darth Arcanos. They would take pleasure in the suffering that they would bring in his name.

They watched as Arcanos stopped to speak with Vossari. A small smile touched their lips at his words, the whispered threat, warning, and promise. Iymril would never admit it, they’d never utter it, but what Arcanos had done here? The punishment he so easily ordered. That made them respect him so much more. In Darth Arcanos’ hands the Sith would return to greatness. There would be no half measures, only dominance and control.

Finally, a Dark Lord worthy of the title carried by Sidious and countless other fore-bearers. A Dark Lord that Iymril would enthusiastically serve.

The Sephi would gather themself before moving to find Zira, they needed to leave. They had to move off of Thule sooner rather than later. Iymril had officially chosen a side, once that news reached Tempest, Thule would no longer be safe for them.

Then they would gather their supplies to visit the Osso’s. Iymril was eager to meet their newest test subjects. They had so much to learn, so much to reshape.

/exitthreadattempt

 

[Kyssiara Serket]

Having been robbed of her master, of her prime opportunity to develop as a Sith and progress within both the Order and the Pureblood hierarchy, Kyssiara would have been more than happy to watch Darth Arcanos (@Sreeya) tear the flesh from his betrayer's body, or grind his bones to literal dust. It appeared the Sith Lord instead opted to strike at Trael Osso's (@Javier esschoolbus) heart, if the acolyte's assumption was correct that the list of names given to Iymril (@Apollyon) were family members or loved ones. Whoever they were, their slow and painful deaths were sure to make the Sith Master suffer.

Suffering Kyssiara could help ensure. Maybe the very beginning of her vengeance wouldn't have to wait so long after all.

Slowly standing up after Arcanos had given his instructions to Iymril and turned back towards the party, the girl began in his direction. Waiting until after he'd finished speaking to the nearby Wrean champion (@Fine Dining Set), Kyssiara approached the party's terrifying host with shaky breaths but confident steps and a purposeful look in her eyes.

"King Arcanos." she called out, dropping into yet another genuflecting bow. "I'm not worthy of your time m'lord, but if you'd allow me I'd humbly request ta join Champion Auvryt'tar in their assignment. I restitution on my late master's behalf, with your permission."

 

[Karai Hekk-iv-Adas]

Karai had a bit of a sweat as they were running towards the palace, gods the desert was hot! He was certain he had never been this far before or to Murzana. Although he had heard the legend, so a chance to see it for himself? Him a simple street rat? How could he resist. Although it helped that he very recently found out he was just as gifted as any of the Sith who would be at the party.

Or so he imagined. He had never thought he would be accepted to the Academy, not with his upbringing. Not as a street rat. But was surprised that it happened. And here he was. Sprinting across the desert and invited to a social event. Although he wasn't sure what to expect but he had heard Sith parties were often violent so would keep to himself. Last thing he wanted was to end up on some chopping block. The guards of the city of Ur would love that he was sure.

Finally arriving, dressed in traditional attire to try and make a good first impression, stolen from a merchant in the city of Ur, he hoped they didn't notice it missing...he entered, but was so caught up with the fact he was so late and running after miles of desert, he barged straight in after finally arriving and failed to even notice lymril ( @Apollyon ) as they were walking out, tripping over the edge of the already ripped dress and landing straight on his behind as they left. That felt sore and was going to leave a bruise he was sure of it.

Some first impression that was he thought as he attempted to lift himself up. He hoped they wouldn't take too much offense, but they were Sith so he wasn't sure.

He hoped if they punished him for it, it wouldn't be that bad. But these were Sith so who knew. Yet even now he could feel as if there were a dark shadow upon the room. Something had happened here he was sure of it. He could also feel his king, a man he greatly admired. A man until now he had only heard rumours of and seen the statue of. And now he could actually see him, but he looked...distant. Something had happened here he was sure of it. He wondered what. Slowly he entered, silent as he observed what was happening yet unaware of previous events. He didn't like this, his gut and the Force told him to be careful. He had no intention of becoming a splat mark on a wall.

@Sreeya @Apollyon @René @LouJoVi @Phoenix @Javier esschoolbus @Fine Dining Set

 

[Corwin Carmine]

Power had rumbled through the room, a silent roar that Carmine heard all too clearly. They went from watching the theatrics from behind a drink to falling to the floor. Reboundings of pain, terror, and death struck them from the servants who died from Arcanos' psychic wail.

Yet even through a haze of thought-rending agony, it was beautiful beyond compare. Awaking again as the pain faded, a new pain became apparent. A shattered shard of glass from the drink that had broken in Corwin's hand. She dragged herself up into a seat and idly plucked it free, black blood soaking into a wrapped bar towel. The smile returned, though not without a new and rather severe headache and shaking limbs.

The rest was caught up on through muttering crowds and immediate evidence. Trodai was dead and one of the new Masters had been the cause. This celebration had devolved into utter chaos, violence, and vengeance. From everything they'd heard this was about the norm. Although... not to this degree. This was pretty fucked up.

Once their hand was sufficiently washed and bandaged, Corwin strode to the dance floor. Sith were already getting right back to it.
Even Arcanos himself, albeit intercepted by another acolyte. For the time being the Tiefling decided to join those dancing, moving to the beat. And perhaps keep eyes and ears open in the meantime.

 

[Vossari Khaldun]

For a moment, Vossari left the physical plane. Within the specter of Azar's mind, he saw boundless oblivion, and a figure in shackles. His presence, shackled in the recesses of Azar's mind. Then, the figure moved and the chains jostled. He called out to Voss in the nickname Azar had given him...little fish. Vossari felt compelled to oblige. He lifted his fingers to touch the Sephi in the dark, but before they could make contact...

He found himself back in ballroom. The party had fallen silent as Azar and Trael went back and forth. Trael, stupidly, defended his actions instead of begging his king for mercy. He always was stubborn. Azar used to like that. But the line between stubborn self-motivation and treason was razor thin, and Trael leapt to the other side of it. More painfully, Azar pretended like he didn't exist until he delivered his icy lines. All the love they had shared, all the care and tenderness, all of their ambition together...thwarted in a single instant by Trael's staggering play to assassinate a member of Azar's court inside his palace at his ball after he expressly called for restraint on Trodai.

There was no changing the past. Perhaps the future could be changed.

He pulled back from Azar as the King attempted to kiss him, wincing as he thought he was about to be killed when his love harmlessly pecked him on the cheek. He was nervous - visibly so to Azar. Afraid.

Voss sighed. He felt a migraine coming in, depleted by the emotional toll of the evening and the amount of Force power he had used. All these battles and wars, and it was a promotion party that ruined everything. Such was life in the Sith. His eyes narrowed at Trael. They had a good thing going there, for a brief moment. Trael got the cutesy moments and the warmth, and Vossari got all the quality time he could with Azar. It felt like a dream, one that was too good to be true. They could've kept it going. They should have kept it going. Perhaps it always was too good to be true. Trael was a charmer, but wasn't precisely...emotionally intelligent. Perhaps this path was inevitable.

Well, Voss had lived without vulnerability and warmth before. Perhaps, it was a life he could to return to. Shed his skin as a 'lover.' Return to his roots. As for the human, Trael Osso? He had gotten himself into this mess. Surely, he could find a way to dig himself out.

Before he gave up and gave in to the seemingly infinite despair that hung over this party, he turned to his love, once more, before the Dark Lord apparent slipped once more to the dance floor. "I'd like some fresh air." He cocked his head towards the open sky of the balcony. His tone was even, but his eyes were pleading. "Would you join me? Please?"

@Sreeya

 

[Nefid]

Nobody could have predicted the ensuing twist. Even Nefid was surprised, even as she could feel hints of intent around her before the act, like peering through a foggy window. But her attention was on Azar. The back and forth. His own thoughts, usually so purposeful, layered, razed over by a mindless drive akin to a storm front. Worrisomely fascinating.

But there was none of it when the order came.

This was the man she knew, Nefid was sure of it.

She reached out to him again, probing in a familiar way, like knocking first, so that he knew it wasn’t aggression; it was just her.

Let me witness it, she offered. It and your weapon.

@Sreeya

 

[Darth Arcanos]

Seeing Vossari flinch cut like a dagger, but the only display of it bothering him was once again just a slight tightening of the jaw. He paid little heed to what the acolyte (@René ) had to say, dismissing her with a casual wave of his hand that implied he didn’t care whether she joined in the effort or not. It was Iymril’s problem to manage and Azar didn’t care who they recruited.

Vossari asked Azar to step away and the Pureblood stared at him for a moment. Was he planning to attempt throwing the King off the balcony? It was almost comical, but the intrusive thoughts began one by one. He looked at Vossari and no longer saw the man he loved so much, no longer saw the tender gaze filled with so much hope and promise, no longer saw the tenderness in those eyes. No, Azar saw nothing more than the gold of his own eyes reflected upon the surface of Vossari’s. He saw only himself.

Because Azar stood alone.

The only man he could place his faith in was himself. The very golden eyes that gazed back at him right now.

The Pureblood said nothing for a moment, but he gave a curt nod in the end, following the Wrean out into the balcony. As he walked, he felt Nefid’s (@Volene ) mind lightly touch against his.

Do as you please, He said simply, At a later time, however, I need you to assess something in my mind, He said without elaborating further.

The Pureblood stepped out to feel the cool, night air of the desert against his skin. He gazed out at the vast dunes in the distance. He could see the glint of light from the desert tribe camps far away. More cities he would need to conquer. Azar put that line of thought on pause, turning to regard Vossari.

“You wish to speak, Vossari?” Azar asked calmly.

@Fine Dining Set

 

[Vossari Khaldun]

Voss looking out into the glittering lights of stars in the distance, as the cosmos came to Lord Arcanos's palace to bear witness to tonight's proceedings. This night had taken a turn, and certainly not one for the better. He felt no recognition in Azar's eyes, no familiarity. No, Azar had already moved on, it seemed. He turned himself cold. Such was the cost of betrayal, such was the warning of the Dark Side, but Vossari was left unsatisfied. Their journey together had just begun. And now, because of Trael, it was to be cut short?

More than that, Vossari could sense the crushing loneliness that Azar's tattooed shoulders bore. He dare not invade his lover's presence again with use of the Force, but even now, he could spot the tattoo he had fashioned. The eyes of the dragon seemed to stare right at him. He wished they were on that beach, right now. Time alone with each other was peaceful, special, for the two of them. "I remember asking, once, why you would return here after exile. You told me that life as a Prince is caged, but a King's is free." They had listened to the lapping of waves. Vossari had declared his love for Azar. He felt it still, deep and reverberating within his heart as if it was his heartbeat. Azar was his heart. No creature could live without a heart. "I...I'm not sure I see the freedom. But if this is the path to freedom, I wish to walk it with you."

"I want you to win. Not an empire, not an order, just you. I love you." Voss said, with a somber quietness uncharacteristic of his typically brash personality. Azar had always drawn tenderness from Vossari, yet there was something else. Azar had always been peerless, and they both knew it. It was not so much the knowledge that Vossari didn't match up to Azar that bothered him, it was the pain of knowing that he would no longer bring himself to level with Vossari, Trael, Trodai, Karys, and all others he had once cared for. More than his theatrics and dramatics, which the Wrean was capable of summoning quite well on his own, Vossari appreciated the quiet that Azar's relationship had brought Vossari. The stillness. Before tonight, they had never even argued as a couple. All things were discussed. Vossari's anxieties and need to act out seemingly melted away into genuine comfort and peace when he was with Azar; that peace made him the only man that Voss would die for. He still would.

The pair had always spoken a language uniquely between the two of them, even in moments of distress and hardship. "If this is the new normal, I can adjust. But..." Hot, wet tears formed at the corner of his eyes as he stared longingly at the Pureblood he had grown to love. "I already miss you."

"This gift..." He reached to Acridia, on his ear, as he spoke. He gently unclasped it and took it in his hand, marveling at the silver dragon as it seemed to come to life. Detaching from his ear, the first time he had since the moment he received it, he petted the cool dragon's head as he looked at his 5'5" dragon. "It was perfect for me. It's like you put my soul, my essence, into it." Sure, hydromancy was clear enough. But transmutation into venom, a representation of the fangs Vossari bore to the rest of the galaxy. It was such a keen representation of Azar's insight, his ability to read people and drive into their hearts. Before, he had used that sparingly - sharing his most deepest, most tender, emotions made manifest in his artifacts. "What made you think of it?"

@Sreeya

 

[Karai Hekk-iv-Adas]

Karai simply observed what was going on, a look of confusion. He had no clue what was going on, but he could feel a very, very cold atmosphere to the room. A tension he couldn't quite place. It felt more broody and chilly than some of the meetings he had spied on between the nobles up in the palace while snooping for food while he was growing up, and not like the party as he thought he would be attending. Everyone seemed to be standing around or staring, looking at the king and the Wrean next to him or the human, Trael if he remembered the name he had heard about. Newly promoted.

He also saw the elf looking man. The Anfwyn, Master Caerllion if he recalled. Also newly promoted. He briefly looked to the Force, only finding a mix of anger, disgust, shock among other things. Everything in the room felt off. Although he knew they were all Sith, that was expected but this felt...different. It did make him curious, but he knew enough from the streets that it was best to not ask questions. That usually ended with missing teeth of worse and wasn't good for longer life expectancy. So he decided to mind his business and instead approach someone perhaps not so involved with whatever was going on for now. At least until things calmed down or as could be under these awkward situations.

He was just a small piece at the moment in a bigger machine he was just getting used too. And his abilities. He didn't need problems. And so that's when he saw what he assumed was a Tiefling ( @Mr. Teatime ) or was it a Zeltron, he couldn't tell, who seemed to not be doing anything but dance. So he would join them.

It was better than trying make sense of what he was seeing. Approaching, he gave a small smile and started dancing, to distract himself as he attempted to speak. Ignoring what was happening nearby. "Hello. I'm Acolyte Karai, I just got here. I'm new to the Order and enrolled at the Academy. I ran to the wrong place. Spent some time running around the dunes. Seems I missed the action. Whatever it was."

@Sreeya @Fine Dining Set @LouJoVi @René @Javier esschoolbus

 

[Darth Arcanos]

Theme​

Azar listened as Vossari spoke, his gaze fixed on the dunes ahead of him. As before, when Vossari spoke of that memory, he was transported right back to that beach. He had been sad about Karys that day, just as he was still sad about Karys now years later. The Pureblood smiled faintly, sipping from his wine, “Perhaps the freedom is to transcend the binds others put on me,” He said, his tone measured, even. After all, could he be wounded at his core if he never allowed anyone that chance?

Vossari said those three words, the three words that once sent him soaring and feeling as if he was the luckiest man in the galaxy. And now those words were poison. Poison of his own making, “Trael told me loved me,” Azar said calmly, his gaze still fixed ahead, “Karys told me he loved me,” He said, “If this is what love is, then can you blame me for not wanting it anymore?” He asked.

As Vossari spoke about Acridia, Azar finally turned to look at it. Even to this day he marveled at the perfect, intricate design. Even someone that gazed upon it for the first time would know it was made with love and care and tremendous attention to detail, “It represents a binding of our passions,” Azar explained, “Yours is hydromancy..mine is poisons and acids,” He said with a faint smile, “I wanted to help you in your endeavors even when I wasn’t there,” Azar said, his smile slowly fading, “Because of love.”

Azar looked away for a very long moment then, his thoughts far away. He stood next to Vossari, but his presence was millions of miles away. His elbows rested on the railing, the wine glass delicately held in his hand.

“I had such naive fantasies, Vossari,” He said, “I thought I could love. I thought someone could love me and truly mean every word. I thought I found that in Karys. I thought I found it in Trael. One by one it was nothing but betrayal..nothing but disappointment. I am left as a tool to use and nothing more. I am left to finally accept that I have been weak. If I am King today, at the end of the day it is because of the man I didn’t love nearly as much as I ought to have all this time.”

Azar looked down, “Myself.”

He closed his eyes and exhaled softly. Vossari had taken from him, but he hadn’t betrayed Azar. But was Azar just going to wait for the other shoe to drop? After it had so many times already? After his heart was broken every time he opened it up to someone? Anytime he truly allowed someone in? Trael had lied throughout their entire courtship and Azar, despite being such a powerful Force user, never saw through it. In the end, he knew no one could truly love him for him. It was just all empty words.

“Many silly fantasies..” Azar repeated, barely above a whisper. He took a long swig of his wine, tears starting to brim his eyes, “I was going to propose to you, you know,” He admitted with a bitter laugh, a hollow laugh that escaped into the night, “Had it perfectly thought and planned out. I was going to get down on one knee.”

Azar chugged more of his wine, the tears now freely flowing, “Gods I went down to the depths of Wrea, Vossari Khaldun,” He laughed bitterly, as if it was the funniest thing ever. Azar Kressh was terrified of the ocean, “I went down there alone, scared shitless, but I fucking went down there. I asked your father for your hand in marriage,” He started laughing again, the tears flowing freely now, “And then I went further down to retrieve the perfect gem to craft a ring for you myself," Bakar Khaldun was still anxiously waiting for the news of his son getting engaged and practicing his best surprised reaction.

He looked at Vossari, downing the rest of his drink, “How fucking stupid was I?” He said, his voice cracking, “How fucking foolish am I?” His lip quivered, “Spending all this time in my silly fantasies..thinking I could have a storybook life where I marry and have children and have love be a part of all that? How foolish was I, Vossari?”

Azar chuckled bitterly, “Laugh at me, Vossari. Laugh at your pathetic, weak King. Laugh at me while we’re alone here and no one can see how fucking broken I am. No one can see how much Karys broke me. No one can see how much Trael shattered me. Laugh at me, make a spectacle of me just as they have.”

He took a deep breath, “Because I will never allow you this chance again. Because I won’t give you the chance to betray me.”

Azar sniffed and looked away, wiping his face, “My liberation as King has to come from liberating myself of my foolish fantasies. They say it is lonely at the top and I see that now. I will do my duty as King, father the children I must, and set aside my childish whims.”

@Fine Dining Set

 

[Vossari Khaldun]

Vossari sniffled as the tears rained, glowing crystals under the radiant lamp light of the balcony. Vossari couldn't believe what he was hearing. Azar, who was afraid of pools, went to Wrea on his own? He asked Bakar for his hand? Azar had gone through all this effort to prepare for a life with Vossari. He joined Azar in mirthless laughter. That was the irony of the moment, wasn't it? They both realized, here, that because of something Trael did, because of something Karys did, their special bond would never be the same. "I still can't imagine you swimming all that way..."

He could almost imagine their life together, though, as his mind trailed off. Days spent laughing together in the dunes of Korriban. Evenings spent studying and dancing across the glittering seas of Wrea. Children, formed from both their image, running amok across their home, as they inherit both their parents' theatrics. It was a life fit for a king. It was one Vossari would have been lucky to have. Too lucky. All this time, and it remained Vossari who was the imbecile. The silly, little Wrean.

"You're right, as always, Azar. Love has been fickle for you. Loyalty is what endures." Karys and Trael had shown that. Love can fade, love can bloom, but if love drives those closest to you to betray you...what's the point? He couldn't blame Azar. Yet, still, he wanted Azar more than his heart could bear. "For what it's worth, I do love you. From the moment I said it, I meant it as a promise." Azar was alone, confused, and grievously hurt. He didn't need someone to say that they loved him, Voss surmised. Azar needed someone to who wouldn't scheme against him in a moment of weakness.

"I have always respected you, even before we fell in love. I won't ever work against your interests. I'm on your side." Azar had given Voss so much over the years. Not just the physical gifts, like Acridia, or the political power that came with being king. He gave Voss his vulnerability. He taught Vossari about his culture and history. He helped Vossari to finally face his father. Azar had been, first and foremost, the best friend he had ever had in his life, especially among the Sith. Their relationship may change like the tide, but Vossari's respect towards Azar would endure.

"Just one more dance with me, princess?" On the inside, the music had started again. A fittingly slow song. "I'm not ready for this to be over." Both the party and their relationship. A smirk crept to his face, brown lips pulsing through lines of tears. Curiosity overtook him. "How were you going to do it? How would you have proposed?" It's not too late to do it, his heart longed to say.

@Sreeya

 

[Darth Arcanos]

Love has been fickle. Loyalty is what endures.

Azar had honestly never thought of it like that. Had that been the term for it instead of love? Men like Karys or Trael were not capable of loyalty. Loyalty was so much tougher to follow through on than love. He was guilty of it himself, of faltering where he thought there was loyalty. After all, was he not in love with Salini when he watched her get torn to shreds while carrying his unborn child? But he was not loyal. Loyalty was remaining unwavering at the face of any adversity. Loyalty was standing by Azar regardless of what forms he took.

Men like Trael or Karys faltered at the first signs of difficulty. They were there only for the easy parts. Azar gazed at Vossari as he reaffirmed his loyalty regardless of where their relationship went or through the absence of one. Azar didn’t dare to believe him, but it was easier to swallow than the word love right now. Love was a cursed word - something that made his heart flutter and his head irrational.

When Vossari asked to dance, Azar set the wine glass aside and closed the distance to join him. There was still a rigidness to his demeanor, but Vossari had Azar’s undivided attention. The tenderness was no longer in Azar’s gaze, but it remained to be seen if it was forever gone. When Vossari asked his question, the Pureblood chuckled. His arms were around Vossari’s neck as they slowly danced, “I’m not going to tell you that,” He said simply.

Azar traced his hand down Vossari’s arm as they danced, grasping his hand. He glanced down, rubbing a thumb over Vossari’s ring finger, “The day you saw me practicing weaving..it was for the ring,” Azar whispered softly, “I wanted you to have the ability to open a portal to come to me at once. No matter where in the galaxy you were. If you were ever hurt, afraid, lonely..you would simply need to use your ring to find yourself back in my arms,” He chuckled bitterly. It all sounded so impossible now, so out of reach, so doomed to fail. Azar’s path was never going to have the luxuries that civilians could enjoy. His path would be one of political marriages, children he would hopefully grow to like and a legacy they would carry forward. He could only hope to pass away peacefully as an old man knowing he did all these grand things.

But he knew, deep in his heart, at least once the thought would cross of that insufferable Wrean that he wanted to marry. The one that would be missing from all his royal portraits. Perhaps Vossari would have existed as a loyal commander of his forces but never official family.

Would Vossari be the last thought on his mind as he joined the Force?

None of his thoughts were obvious, “Would you have said yes?”

@Fine Dining Set

 

[Trael Osso]

Trael felt the Force tightening around him. His death was assured, it was expected as Azar laid out that he betrayed him. He had accepted the possibility when he had admitted to his actions, his betrayal of Azar’s trust. He would at least gaze up his love, the man he adored, his king one last time. A mercy he refused Trodai, a mercy the Pureblood deserved. That’s when Iymril came into sight. The tightness of the grip remained as they began to fully divulge everything. Trael hadn’t mentioned them, he didn’t want another to die from his machinations other than himself. Azar listened to Iymril’s words, they were true every last one.

Azar chided Trael about how he went about killing Trodai. How he used someone else to kill Trodai, how he wasn’t man enough to do it himself. He released the hold Trael’s eyes going wide from shock. He was sparing him? No, he was supposed to die. He wanted to try and make it easier for Azar, making it seem he had fully betrayed him, had lied to him. He had succeeded only party, Iym ruined it, they had come and laid everything out. Trael was now left alive, that only meant one thing, he was left to suffer.

Azar called out to Champion Iymril. As he began talking of Naboo Trael’s gaze went distant. His eyes were on Azar but his gaze was elsewhere. Tears streamed down his face. His mind was filled with the visceral imagery of Iymril systematically and methodically murdering his family. The Sephis twisted smile as they did. Azar requested they take his time and they would, they would elongate the torture as long as they could. He dropped to his knees as the screaming rang out in his head, the deep blue eyes Azar had grown to know, the windows to Trael’s humanity, his soul. The same that looked on him with love, adoration and yearning, slowly burned away by the fiery golden eyes of the dark side, permanently.

Azar had left with Vossari by the time Trael had regained his senses completely. Trael found Iyrmil as he was gathering a teifling to leave with, “I’m going to be the one to murder my family.” He said his voice quivering and just barely a whisper, “You can either come and make sure I do it or stay out of my way, but you will not be the one to do it.” If his heart was to be completely ripped out, he would do it himself. “If you are scared of Arcanos’ wrath you can go ahead and snitch to him. It matters little to me now, I was already killed here tonight.”

@Apollyon

 

[Iymril]

​

Iymril had found Zira dancing with Corax. The Sephi glanced between the pair of them, cocked an eyebrow, and then looked to their slave. What were these two doing?

Before Iymril could even begin to question anything, Master Os- no Trael approached them. The Sephi’s ears flicked with annoyance as the human made his demands.

“You can either come and make sure I do it or stay out of my wa-”

The human wouldn’t get the rest of his words out. An invisible vice grip clamped around his neck and cut his words off. Iymril’s eyes matched the gold of Trael’s own.

“Traitor!” They called out as they took a step back. “Seize Trael Osso!” They shouted.

Now Iymril would truly take their time with his family. They would be broken mind, body, and soul by the Sephi before they killed them all. And they would ensure that Trael heard all of it.

@Javier esschoolbus @Phoenix @LouJoVi