Apex of the Divine

[Calim]

"Damn it's cold out here," the ebony skinned man muttered. His breath frosted in front of his mouth in wispy tendrils that streamed into the air. His footsteps brought him slowly into a temple stained with the palpable air of darkness. It wasn't the kind of night, but something deeper. Something evil.

Cydren shrugged off the feeling of a million eyes watching him, ignoring the prickling sensation on the back of his neck. He walked up the steps, listening to the rhythmic click of his boots against the shaded marble.

Once he was at the top he looked around. He looked for someone. He didn't have a very good description of who he was looking for, but he did know that the person would either teach him to kill in style, or kill him himself.

"Another win win situation," he sighed. His technicolor eyes gazed in towards the darkness, beckoning the power into his bones.

 

[Jaqen H'ghar]

"Win win you say?" comes a voice, though you're unsure of where. "Oooh really now? What've you won exactly? Because you'll win nothing here. You'll earn everything you obtain, and you'll be all the more deadly for it. Or just dead if you can't keep up."

The voice seemed to move away, down the hallway, a long chorodor heading deeper into the temple, which was nearly as cold inside as it was outside, the stone not particularly aiding to the frozen landscape that was this particular planet. Mortificar watched through the force, curious of his new apprentices skill and aptitude.