The Fury of A Patient Man (Auswyn)

[Anthymis]

Anthymis Tomb.png
Yavin IV
Yavin System
Gordian Reach

Above the sprawling green expanse of jungle that blanketed the surface of the fourth moon of Yavin, the sun shone down with great intensity. Even beneath the canopy, the air was stifling and humid. The angry buzzing of Pirahna Beetle hives high in the trees contrasted sharply with the low harmonies of the whisper birds, creating a sort of symphony when heard along with the sounds emitted by the varied and exotic wildlife. Heavy footfalls and crunching of undergrowth gave indication of a roaming party of Massassi, hulking savage beasts that had survived in isolation on this seldom-visited side of the moon.

The Massassi had been here for eons. At first, they had come in great numbers, constructing a great pyramid for an unseen master. Someone had called them, whispering into their minds in dark dreams, showing them great visions of power and war. Over time, the dreams had faded into legend, legend into myth; hushed whispers passed down by the descendants of the Massassi that survived the in-fighting and petty squabbles. Now, only a dozen or so still lingered within the halls of the Temple, venturing out to hunt every once in a while.

Deep beneath the Temple, the presence that had drawn their ancestors here began to whisper to his unknowing guardians once more. The time had nearly arrived; the time for them to claim their reward...

Only one more piece needed to be added to the board before the great game to begin... And the monster in the deep could feel her approach already...

[Auswyn Nothrael]

She had been looking forward to this trip for months, and now her feet were planted firmly in the detritus, standing her amongst the dense choke of tree and vine of the jungle moon, the fourth body of at least eight moons orbiting a gaseous giant whose gems held little interest to her. Though not a world of importance by most means, Yavin IV had been subject to several galactic events over the course of more than five millennia, and it was in the less recent of those events that her interests lay, which were threefold: first, from an academic standpoint, on the matter of the followings of ancient lords of the Sith that held cultish appeal; second, the study of said followings and their lords leading to a possible growth of her own power; lastly, the call.

It had found her some eleven years before, twisting her dreams in the dark of night, and shifting her focus in a way nothing else could. It was the entire basis of her higher education, of her fixed, obsessive interest in the obscure, in religion, in the ways of cults (and 'cults') all over the galactic map. Something on that day had disturbed the slumber of one power that slept in this place; it had been a driving force at the back of her mind ever since. And now she was ​here, what she felt was the very temple from which the call had come, from which those visions had emitted, their touch still faint in the area surrounding the place.

"This is it, Amiir," she breathed, but when she did not hear her assistant's questioning, her head and torso turned to find the young man nowhere to be seen, "curious," but not entirely unexpected. It was far from the first time that Amiir had felt the accompanying dread that poisoned the surrounding area of locations such as this, and backed off without her notice - she did tend to get fixated on her goals. "Very well, suppose I can't expect too much from such a sack of shit of an assistant."

The far-off screams and pleas from said assistant barely registered in her psyche as she descended the slope in search of the entrance, despite breaking the pseudo-silence of the jungle. Whether it was because no fraks were given, or she was simply too engrossed in what might come, Amiir was written off in her mind. The call resounded between her ears, thrumming in her body, pulling her in...

[Anthymis]

Amiir had already voided his bowels, collapsing to his knees and sobbing uncontrollably.

The source of his fear was the same as the source of the call the had summoned Auswyn to him. Had there been others throughout the eons that could have released him? Certainly. The voice of Fate, Adraestia, still rang clearly in his mind, however, prophesying a young woman whose cruelty and curiosity were matched only by her zeal, with eyes that could drive the sane to the brink of madness, yet provide clarity to the most demented of souls.

The assistant's fear only served to fuel the horror that stood before him, a humanoid creature of smoke and ash. Amiir had tried to run, of course, but everywhere he looked, everywhere he ran, the monster was there waiting for him. Pulling a small blaster from his belt, he fired a few desperate shots, entirely in vain. The figure continued to advance, until it stood above the weeping wretch. For a few quiet moments, it simply observed, lowering itself to look directly into Amiir's bloodshot eyes, which grew wide in horror. He screamed as the being invaded his mind, tearing at him with dark, cruel visions and violent malevolence. Consumed by fear and anguish, the young man took the only way out he had, bringing the blaster to the underside of his chin.

Curious... he broke more easily than I remember...

The figure, nothing more than an illusion conjured by the one who slumbered far below, slowly dissipated as the life drained from Amiir.

Come to me, my darling... Set us both free... Surrender yourself and be born again... I have waited so, so long for you to arrive...

[Auswyn Nothrael]

Words slipped over her mind, pulled the ends of her lips up and out, put a pause in her steps as she savoured the feel of them. The same overwhelming allure that the call exacted was found in the taste that her response laid on her tongue. It was a thought, it was a word, one word, "Yesss," she breathed, placing her palm on the door to the temple with halved haste once the tips of her fingers made contact. The touch was all it took, strangely, for the large door to inch open; her palm took a moment's examination, and the dark-haired scholar slipped through the opening.

The door, closing upon her ingress, was full of haste, and pulled her gaze back to it with the sound it made, "Ancient Sith temples," she mused, turning her eyes forward, "the definition of 'haunted'," to which her lips would have curled in amusement if not for the pair of beady Massassi eyes she now found looking into her own. Auswyn blinked.

"You I did not expect," she said, frankly, eyes drifting to the two Massassi that hung back on either side of the one in front of her; though fear wasn't a thing, her fingers ready to call a blade to her hand were, "at all," but it seemed none of them were listening, none felt a threat. The frontmost one turned, and began to walk away, his companions following. Not a word, not a beckoning, but she was called here - assumptions could be made.

She followed.

[Anthymis]

The Massassi warriors led the young woman deep into the Temple, descending down through the veritable labyrinth of tunnels and passageways. Ancient skeletons adorned the ledges that lined some of the hallways, warriors of eons passed that had guarded the Temple. The Massassi that guided Auswyn were the last of their lineage, finally ready to fulfill their purpose.

The architecture was very typical of ancient Massassi Temples, until they reached a pair huge iron doors, long since rusted by the damp, stale air that surrounded them but held in place by some unseen. Three more warriors were waiting for them there, kneeling before one of the doors, as if praying. The three that had led Auswyn took similar positions before the other door. Silence reigned once more as the echoes of their footsteps faded.

Nothing seemed to happen for a few moments, until Auswyn's own shadow, cast by the flickering torches at the feet of the Warriors, began to move. It grew larger, seeming to split over and over until seven figures were outlined on the walls. Slowly, they detached themselves from the surface to which they had been bound, six of them slowly drifting like ghosts toward their prey. Suddenly, the shadows dived forward, turning into thin tendrils of smoke that wrapped themselves around the throats of the Massassi before forcing their way into their mouths as they gasped for air. Within seconds, it was over. The six Massassi stood as one, drawing their blades...

The seventh shadow brought itself to stand in front of Auswyn, staring deep into her eyes. It did not let the contact break between them as the beasts behind him slit their own throats. Though it was impossible, due to the skull-like visage the shadow wore, Auswyn could have easily thought she had recognised a grin cross the shadow's deathly features as the blood began to pool at the base of the door, which began to vibrate audibly. It groaned and cracked as the blood fed the spell that had been cast so many ages ago. It didn't take long before the iron crumbled into dust, leaving the way open for Auswyn and her new, spectral guide.

[Auswyn Nothrael]

"Mmmm..."

She had a dream not too unlike this. Oh, it was no nightmare, nothing ever was, for little, if anything at all, seemed to frighten her. In her line of work, it would never do to be afraid as skeletons were many, gruesome scenes not uncommon. That she had murdered her own brother at the age of five (an accident, for truth) and felt no remorse, nary a drop of grief, had been the first clue that something was never right about her... but the same could be said of almost her entire family. As such, there was never anyone sane enough to notice, except perhaps an uncle she didn't remember. For what it was worth, she didn't break the contact, either, until the spell was complete. Her eyelids dropped to a close, and she could feel her eyes rolling back while a faint shudder worked its way through her.

Her eyes opened again and set upon the spectre, "shall we?" but she moved past and into the room, her vision filling with the sight of a great mass encapsulating one man. She stopped, marvelling in silence at it, then glancing sidelong at the spectre. A wicked smile curled her lips, and she returned her gaze to the mass.

"Tell me what needs to be done," she said, in sultry sotto voce, "tell me, that I may free you."

She needed, now, to know the form and flesh that put the voice and the call in her mind. Nothing got in the way of her desires.

[Anthymis]

The great mass that was Anthymis' prison shuddered with every soft footstep she took into the room, like a dark heart beating with anticipation. The flora that had once grown peacefully in this ancient tomb had been corrupted over the eons, tendrils and roots consuming anything they ensnared. The Darkness that had bled from the heart of this place had entirely overwhelmed it, thanks to the efforts of the man trapped inside.

The ones who trapped me here did so without taking one thing into account... They had no idea that fate had a grip on us... Their own Light blinded them to the inevitable truth of things... that fate cannot be denied...

The spectre spoke in a voice that reverberated deep into Auswyn's mind.

Millennia ago, your existence was foreseen by one more powerful than I... the living personification of Fate herself... She told me that you were the key to my salvation... A darkness that would match my own...

The Spectre came to a stop at the top of the winding stone stairs that lead to the glowing orange flesh of his prison. As he did so, the figure of the man locked inside the translucent material began to stir, placing his hand upon the surface.

If you truly are the one... if our souls are truly bound by fate... then this prison, designed only to keep me in, should not be able to keep you out... You need only reach through the wall of my cage and take my hand... and we shall be together... after all this time...

The heart was beaten fervently now, cracks already beginning to form upon the surface close to the woman Anthymis had so patiently waited for.