A Call to Lost Witches

[Naevah]

The sabbath was almost upon Dathomir. The Fanged God would soon be forced to relinquish control of the spiritual plane to The Winged Goddess, and on the longest night of the year the veil between both worlds would be at its thinnest. For witches, it would be a time to embrace the gifts that the spirits had bestowed upon them; the pulse of the ichor that flowed through their veins stronger than at any other time of the year.

Yet Naevah found that there was hardly anything to celebrate. It seemed the Nightsister Clan had never been weaker. Their numbers decimated to a fraction of the size the coven Mother Sycorax had been leading. The savage onslaught they had endured at the hands of a Sith had left scars so deep that five centuries had to suffice to heal them.

All hopes were not lost. The solstice was the day most young witches discovered that they possessed the gift, or so Naevah had been told, for she had never witnessed an infant being touched by the spirits. After the massacre, the unified clan had divided into several smaller covens. The latter would limit contacts between one another to a minimum to guaranty their survival in the event of a second attack.

Decided to aid fate, Naevah had prepared a special rite. She hoped that her call to lost witches would be heard in all corners of Dathomir, and that the spirits would intercede in her favor to the Twin Deities.

She had traced a circle in the sand under the red night sky, and ground together a sprig Rinor and the bud of a Snowbark tree's flower that had never seen the light of day. Kneeling in the center, the pestle resting next to the ashen gray mortar in front of her, Naevah began chanting. "Kracht van de heksen neemt toe"

The faint floral aroma of her little concoction rapidly engulfed her surroundings."Natuurlijk ongezien door de lucht"

A comforting luminescent green mist started protruding through her pores and she guided it around the circle toward the stars. "Kom naar mij die je dichtbij roept" Magnified, her voice echoed around the clearing.

There is no going back now, she thought. Grabbing her ceremonial blade with her right hand, she guided it to her left palm and lacerated the surface of her skin. Where blood should have rushed through her wound, a vaporous substance, a condensed form of the misty ichor that had been previously summoned, trickled onto the freshly ground herbs. Repressing a lament of pain, Naevah concluded her incantation. "Kom naar me toe en vestig je hier."

Suddenly, a flash of vibrant green light blinded Naevah. And then everything was still. The sounds of the wilderness had all been silenced, as though muffled by the intensity of the energy that had been unleashed.

@Wit @Faster Than Light

 

[Nymeria (TL8)]

Nymeria had learned at the Academy that she had a knack for the more arcane sides of the Force, and from that moment on she had dedicated herself to taking advantage of that spark to learn and master all she could. In centuries past she might have travelled the Galaxy, seeking out the various Force sects littered throughout the stars. But the ascension of the Sith had wiped most of them out, almost to the last man, woman, and child. All that remained was in the Imperial records, some useful, some little more than the boastful concoctions of a proud conquerer.

Thankfully though, her expedition into the Imperial Archives hadn't been a complete waste, as something had revealed itself that gave her some measure of hope. On Dathomir once existed a thriving Force based culture, covens of witches who spun the Force in a wholly unique manner, the likes of which Nymeria hadn't found anywhere else in her research. And if she was right about this, there was a distinct possibility that these Dathomiri Witches had not been completely wiped out.

So she had made her way to Dathomir, and found some of the locals. They hadn't been witches, some even seemed scared of the mere mention of them. But Nymeria was nothing if not persuasive, and soon enough they had told her everything she needed to know. So she had followed the trail their answers had laid out for them. With each step she knew that there was a purpose to her being here, it was not mere coincidence that had drawn her to this planet on what was a day of some importance to the very witches she was seeking.

She didn't really have much sense of exactly where she was going, the villagers had given her a vague sense of direction, but soon enough she had realized that something was guiding her steps, drawing her towards...something. Soon enough she knew what it was, as she walked out into a small clearing. A clearing that seemed to have been engulfed by a weird green mist. She couldn't see far into it, but she could hear someone inside it, faint whispers drifting out to her, drawing her in, till they suddenly stopped.

She stood there for a moment, staring at the mist, wondering what to do next, even though the Force sang out clear as day about what she needed to do. After a few moments, she let out a long sigh and gave in to the pull let her feet move, stepping into the mists. She took one step, then another, still holding onto her breath, coming to a stop once she was finally completely inside the mists. Finally, she let go of her breath, and as she breathed back in, the mists flowed into her, and suddenly the world fell away all around her.

@Aberforth @Faster Than Light