Aper stood upon one of the larger balconies of the nameless structure, not that it did not possess one, but he cared little for such knowledge, leaving himself open as prey only to his thoughts as he waited for his new "Master" to arrive, studying the marbled floor beneath him as well as the Temples and decorated structures he imagine in his mind below, swarmed by the shadows of demons only he could see.
Despite the abysmal depth of the darkness into which no mortal would dare venture, hordes of devils awaited for their prey, wailing their never-ending thirst for blood, human or otherwise. The lamentations could be heard for miles across the dying city, but yet this night was different, for an uninviting, chilling and distant silence lingered as much within the shadow as it did in the crystalline light of the revealing moon... It was heavy, oppressive, like a predators gaze; it was silent, even more so than the echo of death.
It was not long, though, before it was broken...
''Leave me...'' Came a cold whisper across the nightly breeze, carried by the breath of nature from behind the unsuspecting student, who, lost in his thoughts had did little to notice another's presence, even though the azure-coated man did little in return to be acknowledge, his presence pulsed with a serene calm, so quiet even, that it harmonized itself with the night's very essence; The silver-haired man shared its distant coldness but above all, his presence echoed that of a predator... That of a dispassionate killer.
It did not take anymore for Aper to throw one of the daggers he always kept at his belt towards the man who had dared to disrupt his meditation, the flawless shape of the razor reflecting the star's light with its deadly approach as it flew towards, and past the image of the stranger, who in return, only gave him a gaze, and yet how terrifying it was... To loose itself within those orbs into which echoed the death and pain of no being, but that of centuries; a never-ending chasm of torment, and yet it did not recede as the illusion came to past to bring him back from the precipice of his own madness.
Memories flooded his every thoughts, not his own, yet he could not recognize to whom they belonged either. He drowned within nightmares of a distant past, unable to center himself, unable to escape and unable to breath. He was his own prison, and he struggled to get out, but to no avail.
And then he found himself again, standing over the training grounds of the Sith order, alone, and torn between the two realities that had set their boundaries within his soul. What was dream, what was real, not even one that would have dared read the echoes that traversed him in the Force could say; he was a rupture, a fracture... A ripple that could not be ignored nor swayed, the differencing echo that danced in chaotic harmony with the remains of the wave. The final whisper preceding the absolute end within the Force...
He was an absence, and it is why no one who dared read his most inner thoughts and soul had since long vanished from the face of the galaxy; in the Force, he appeared as if he was not only dead to others, but as if he had died from himself... And yet he walked...
And waited...
Despite the abysmal depth of the darkness into which no mortal would dare venture, hordes of devils awaited for their prey, wailing their never-ending thirst for blood, human or otherwise. The lamentations could be heard for miles across the dying city, but yet this night was different, for an uninviting, chilling and distant silence lingered as much within the shadow as it did in the crystalline light of the revealing moon... It was heavy, oppressive, like a predators gaze; it was silent, even more so than the echo of death.
It was not long, though, before it was broken...
''Leave me...'' Came a cold whisper across the nightly breeze, carried by the breath of nature from behind the unsuspecting student, who, lost in his thoughts had did little to notice another's presence, even though the azure-coated man did little in return to be acknowledge, his presence pulsed with a serene calm, so quiet even, that it harmonized itself with the night's very essence; The silver-haired man shared its distant coldness but above all, his presence echoed that of a predator... That of a dispassionate killer.
It did not take anymore for Aper to throw one of the daggers he always kept at his belt towards the man who had dared to disrupt his meditation, the flawless shape of the razor reflecting the star's light with its deadly approach as it flew towards, and past the image of the stranger, who in return, only gave him a gaze, and yet how terrifying it was... To loose itself within those orbs into which echoed the death and pain of no being, but that of centuries; a never-ending chasm of torment, and yet it did not recede as the illusion came to past to bring him back from the precipice of his own madness.
Memories flooded his every thoughts, not his own, yet he could not recognize to whom they belonged either. He drowned within nightmares of a distant past, unable to center himself, unable to escape and unable to breath. He was his own prison, and he struggled to get out, but to no avail.
And then he found himself again, standing over the training grounds of the Sith order, alone, and torn between the two realities that had set their boundaries within his soul. What was dream, what was real, not even one that would have dared read the echoes that traversed him in the Force could say; he was a rupture, a fracture... A ripple that could not be ignored nor swayed, the differencing echo that danced in chaotic harmony with the remains of the wave. The final whisper preceding the absolute end within the Force...
He was an absence, and it is why no one who dared read his most inner thoughts and soul had since long vanished from the face of the galaxy; in the Force, he appeared as if he was not only dead to others, but as if he had died from himself... And yet he walked...
And waited...
