Fused with fear

[Matier]

Matier's fingers, flecked with dried blood, fidgeted about restlessly at her side. The abstracted motion caused the alloy-plated finger armaments she wore to rub against one another, filling the otherwise silent village with a constant tinkling sound. In all honesty, the silence had only just descended upon them moments ago, as it was then that Leda had denounced the leadership of their merry little group. The brave, little minx dared impugn her?

The Nightsister's lips, rife with small cuts and piercings, twisted upward into a chaotic smile that could only mean something dreadful was about to happen. Her eyes, their saffron hue shimmering like the very flames in the pit before her, remained downcast. Leda, hoping to gain the upper hand in the fear brimmed tension, spoke out again.

"While I do not doubt your experience with such things, Matier, it is clear that your lapse in sanity has made you incapable of leading us. We need someone collected enough to head up our strikes against the other clans. You can't -"

"Control myself.." Matier murmured softly, finishing the woman's sentence. Bending at the knees, a slit in her mesh stockings tearing away further, she shoved her hand into the burning embers of the massive fire. Collecting a pile in her palm and closing her fingers around them, she turned her intense gaze over her shoulder. Her other hand traipsed along a large piece of half burning wood. "Leda... I'm so disappointed.."

Her scream was resounding and the lurid din of that slim log plowing full force into the woman's face was something magical. A peel of maniacal laughter escaped her mouth as she watched her dear sister crumple to the ground in bittersweet agony. The flames that had been on the end of the log now ate away at the flesh of her face and splinters lodged themselves deep within her eyes and forehead.

"Celestis, Elyl.. hang her up for the rancors to play with. I simply cannot abide her disobedience." She told the women who were standing closest.

"Let this serve as a lesson for those who oppose my rule..."

Her palm opened and the now cool ashes slipped silently to the ground. Wordlessly, they moved to do as she had said. Matier turned her eyes to Asherah, her daughter, who stood not too far away observing the spectacle. Darling Asherah, how she reminded Matier of her father.

Her grin was laced with something deadly.

[Asherah]

Asherah's crimson eyes assessed the situation passively, the vivid hue was flecked with an unexplained fire but at the same time had a distinct glacial quality to it. The sigh that left her mouth was frosted as well, further denying the pyric nature she was born from. At times, it was difficult to believe that such a numb offspring had been carried by the highly fervid matron of Aurilia.

An armor adorned shoulder canted backward to seek the door frame she had been standing in, but instead found the form of another. Rather than drifting away, she sank back further against it, her red eyes shifting closed for a moment of contentment.

Gabriel.

He, too, had no doubt witnessed the violent display of power and madness that was unfortunately a normality when it came to Matier. If he had, he didn't care to show the same knowing expression that threatened to spill across Asherah's pale mouth and other features. The only traits she had inherited from her mother were strictly of the physical variety and even with that, she had to wonder.

"We'll take her..." Asherah spoke up, halting the two women who had bent to retrieve the discarded clan member. Lifting a hand and knocking her knuckles back over her shoulder, she tapped his chest plate and then pulled away.

She stepped forward, the collection of metallic plating that made up her attire clanking softly as she approached. The polished sullust leather of her boots kicked up some dirt as she paused, causing a chocolate brown billow of dirt to scattered across the woman's face. Asherah leaned forward, wrapping her long fingers around the back of the woman's shirt.

Hauling her up, the scarlet eyed Nightsister completely unaffected by Leda's choking sounds, she began to drag her across the grounds. The village would hang in silence for some time now. Executions always made them a little wary.

[Megaera]

"A moment, Dalninil...", came a throaty purr from the opposite side of the single room.

A form had been quietly huddled on the floor, cross-legged. It now rose, slowly pulling back the hood of a cloak, the dark material as delicate as insect wings, a stark contrast to the much armored vestments of her Sisters. A pouch, that rattled ominously, bounced at her hip as she approached Asherah. One pale hand outstretched toward her doomed, former comrade, seemingly a gentle gesture. The chipped, dirt streaked fingertips curled into the ebbing strength of Leda's own. No comfort was to be found from Megaera's touch, no solace. Only the assurance of further pain..

A flash of silver.

Another tortured cry from the reviled traitor, Leda.

An arc of blood, sprayed across the earthen and ash floor of the hut.

"That will do nicely.. Take her.."

Megaera turned to her most beloved mother, Matier with the angelic smile of a dutiful daughter. The severed finger of Leda clutched in her own dirty grip, still dripping it's vitality into a crimson puddle. She dropped into a crouch, a jagged nail scrapping apparent nonsense that only her eyes could translate into the ash and gore. A frown creased her brow. Holding the finger aloft, she squeezed out a further, quickly coagulating drop, rubbing it into the rest, as a child would finger-paint.. She dumped the contents of her ragged pouch over the lot. A collection of small, dirtied white knobs, knuckles bones in varied states of decomposition and decay..

"The past returns, Matier..."

[Jeseth Cloak]

Or more precisely, the "past" was already there. Jeseth trudged through leaf-littered forest surrounding Aurilia, searching for the settlement. His pale skin was slick with sweat, and his tattered Jedi robes were speckled with dried blood and ash. He only vaguely remembered his first encounter with the Dathomiri that called themselves the Nightsisters; given the events that transpired shortly after, it was no wonder that he couldn't easily locate the town now.

When he finally stumbled into the mist, he began to hear them again. Those same voices that had so eagerly greeted him decades ago - they no longer taunted him though. Now they feared him. Take me to her... Jeseth's mind hissed into the fog. The mist quickly opened a path for him - a path to Matier.

[Asherah]

The Rancor Pit

The stench of blood filled the air and Asherah looked on as the ravenous beasts tore into the woman she and Gabriel had tied to a post within the pen. Limbs were ripped from the trunk of Leda's body and flung in every direction. For those that had been with the Nightsisters long enough, it was obvious that Matier had shown mercy on the individual. Mercy and disgust at the same time, as she viewed it. Only Megaera had chosen to use any part of the body for 'ritual' purpose. Even the creatures they feasted upon were shown that respect.

"Gabriel... no doubt Matier will be on edge now. Go to her. I wish to remain..." She paused, her gaze piercing the thick trees and seeming to take in that which wasn't there. Her mouth curved into a mysterious little smile and her hand came to rest upon the enchanted blade attached to the sash at her side. No doubt, she'd have company soon.

"Here..." By the time she had taken up the finishing word, he was already gone. Asherah was certain this was something she'd have to face alone.

[Jeseth Cloak]

"Have you dreamt of me, as I've dreamt of you?" Asherah heard asked through the wall of fog that hovered several feet away from her. The hiss of two lightsabers coming to life punctuated the question, and lit up the mist in a crimson light, so she could make out the veiled form of the man who wielded them. As he moved closer to her, she could clearly see that he wore the ancient garb of a Jedi, and that his skin was nearly as white as the mist through which he moved. He smelled powerfully of old blood and death - as if he had crawled out from some ancient grave, too dry to harbor the foul scent of decay, but still wreaking of the nether all the same.

She got her first glimpse of his eyes: two black sphere's trapped within dark crimson orbs - mirrors of her own. Then he sprung forward, moving his lightsabers towards her neck. The angles at which he approached clearly marked the level of his skill; she was left with precious few options for her defense.

[Asherah]

Her back had been to him but she had felt his approach. It was almost as if he wanted to be sensed, his force signature seemed to wash over everything. Crimson eyes narrowed slightly as the tinkling of alloy was heard and silently, she closed her hand over the hilt of her weapon and detached it from the sash. His words were cryptic, haunting. The hum of his lightsabers was exhilarating and threatening.

Turning a heated stare over her shoulder at him, she took in the red hue of his irises and the ebony wheel center amongst them. Quite the mirror image. She was almost taken aback but his sudden movement reminded her that this man was indeed an enemy.

The saber blades were as saturated as his gaze but the enchanted glow of her own weapon had an almost sobering effect on their confrontation. Gloved fingers gingerly caressed the silver aura encompassing the blade, enhancing it just before the impact occured. The muscles in her arms jerked but she held him at bay with a strength that might prove to be surprising.

"My dreams are filled with death. Are you the Reaper..?" She asked in return, already having determined the answer for herself. The incredibly lengthy, Sith blade in her control flickered hungrily, seeming to pulse at one with her eyes.

[Jeseth Cloak]

The beam of Jeseth's lightsabers burned loudly against the Sith blade that Asherah wielded. The two remained there, weapons locked together a moment in time; it felt like an eternity though, as he looked into her eyes. "Those eyes, that strength..." he whispered against the humming and crackling crimson beams, and pushed them closer and closer to Asherah. Her beauty nearly surpassed what he remembered of Matier's. "You're not Matier?" he exclaimed angrily, his conviction wavering.

He had wanted to kill that demon, but this woman was not her! Had his emotions clouded his senses so, that he could no longer tell Matier apart from any other woman? This one wasn't even Human, she was... "No." Jeseth said, his breath leaving him. She felt like Matier... but she looked... like him.

[Asherah]

His weapons, too, were hungry. She could feel their ravenous nature, almost human, as they pressed firmly into the long blade she wielded. Sharp teeth came into view as she focused her strength forward and kept her devoted attention locked upon his face. A man who knew of her mother, who had mistaken her for the voracious mistress. An individual who seemed just as puzzled as she by their pronounced similarities.

"I'm her daughter..." She replied in an alarmingly cool manner, her red tongue darting out to sweep across her flesh colored lips. The conclusion she had reached about this man was farfetched, considering the stories she had been told of him. But it was the force that taught her that doubt was blinding.

"And you are..." It was not a question or even an opening introduction. She wanted him to finish her sentence with the desired words and if he didn't...

She smiled slightly.

[Jeseth Cloak]

"Jeseth Cloak...." he said, narrowing his eyes as he gave her a shove with his weapons. She found herself forced back several inches, and the fallen Jedi used the opening to scissor her blade between his own, ripping it from her hands. "...your father." Her weapon fell to the ground.

He felt defeated; he had come here to kill Matier... but was now more bonded to her than ever before. Could he kill her, knowing what he knew? His lightsabers died away, and he clipped both of the weapons to his belt. He looked at the woman in front of him and examined her features. She was elegant and refined, as any noble Ventisian woman would be, but beneath that flawless exterior... there was something of her mother, waiting to claw its way out.

He reached his hand towards her and touched her face. The sleeve of his robe fell back, revealing the faint, slender scars that trailed down his arm. They had been Matier's doing, long ago... "So, this was all she wanted with me." His hand fell away from Asherah's cheek. He had never had a wife, nor a family. The thought alone was alien to him, as he spent the majority of his existence serving the Jedi Order. Matier was the closest thing to a lover he had ever known... and all she had ever done was twist his heart and use his body.

For years after leaving Dathomir, he only dreamt of returning to her. Then her sorcery faded from him... and his love turned something else. "I came for your mother's life," he told Asherah, grabbing hold of her delicate wrist, "but since she's given me such a fine heir, I think I'll merely take her throne instead. I will be your master now."

[Asherah]

My father...

Asherah's somber gaze followed her weapon as it was tossed to the ground between them. Her hands clenched, now devoid of something to clutch, and her crimson stare grew all the more intense. His eyes crawled all over her flesh, lacking the subtleness that would have made the action casual. Just who did he think he was?

My... father..?

The man hadn't been around in her life all the years she had been growing up and now he had come to claim all that was her's? Her mother's? Something like a growl but entirely more threatening escaped her lips. Anger, like a scalding tidal wave, crashed against the cool air. The temperature drove upward and her skin seemed torrid when he captured her wrist.

"Yet another individual who seeks to control me... you're no better than she is, Father.."

[Jeseth Cloak]

The Force was strong with her.. as it was with him, and Matier. "You're wrong." he said, not releasing his hold on her. "I seek to instruct you... never to control you. I am not your mother." He grabbed onto her other arm and pulled her close to him, staring into her crimson eyes. She could see his pupils dilate within their blood-colored prisons. "All she ever wanted from me, was you. Let us take that from her... together. I will be the sire you never had."

"With my guidance, you could become more powerful than you could possibly imagine." he said, placing a hand behind her head. She could be no older than thirty-four - a mere child, by Ventisian standards. "Tell me your name."

[Asherah]

The goal he thought to share with her would be executed with respectable conviction but there was no doubt in her mind that Matier would discover his plans sooner rather than later. Up until now, Asherah only acted to benefit herself. Now, this man had appeared and requested her assistance. Demanded her participation.

Those crimson orbs, so like his own, narrowed upon his handsome face. After all these years, it seemed insane to break the cycle.

"Asherah.." She murmured, her body set rigid on account of his closeness. While personal space was ill afforded in a place such as this, everyone tended to keep their distance from her. She liked it that way.

[Jeseth Cloak]

Jeseth released his hold on the back of Asherah's neck, and did something entirely uncharacteristic: he smiled. "It's a beautiful name. Your mother always did have a way with words, so I shouldn't be surprised, but I never saw you in my dreams." he said. "Let me show you something." His pale hands came out in front of her, encouraging her to reach out for them. "Don't be afraid. I want to know you." His eyes closed, and the air around them went cold and still. Asherah could feel a calm washing over her, subduing her fear and aggression. It was emanating from her father.

[Asherah]

The dense cloak of calm enveloped her, soothing down the frayed edges of her nature and pumping her senses to the brim with a sensation that was both foreign and unsought. Her eyes narrowed slightly as the beast within waged a war against this invading force, desperately attempting to regain the upper hand in the Sith's ego. Asherah knew with all her mind that curiosity was a foolish, lethal thing that she never chose to indulge in. However, considering this man was her father, the regard she had for this experience could be labeled as something entirely different. A means to be enlightened perhaps.

Her hands, fitted with slick black gloves attached to the shoulder pieces of her armor, lifted from their position at her sides. Searching his eyes one last time, she slipped them into his own hands and fanned her fingertips across his wrists.

"You shall know me..."

[Jeseth Cloak]

Blood and feathers. Hot wind and rain. The horizon's were clouded and thick with fire and death. It was hard to see anything, but from where Asherah was standing, she could make out the silhouette a massive floating city. It was breaking through the smoke above her. Terrified screams filled the air. They were coming from hundreds of wingless Ventisians, all of whom were running. Running from Absniak Palace.

"That was the end of my life on Ventis. The people revolted, and there was nothing left by the time the Republic arrived. Though we've nothing to inherit, the same noble blood courses through both of our veins." Jeseth told to her. When she turned to look at him, she found that they were both standing inside of a large, silent marble hall. A young man dressed in crisp Jedi robes, with brilliant white wings, ran past them. Jeseth and Asherah didn't seem to exist to him.

The young man looked almost identical to Jeseth, except that his skin was flush with life, and he wore a genuine smile. His hand gripped a silver lightsaber hilt with an ivory activation switch. It came to life loudly, spawning a bright blue blade, just as the Jedi Padawan leapt up into the air to avoid blaster fire from three droid remotes. The gray orbs hissed as they climbed into the air to follow him, and let loose another round of shots.

"Excellent! Suppress your fear, focus your mind." a blond man, wearing Jedi Master's robe, yelled at the young Jeseth from the other end of the hall.

The apt pupil deflected the remotes attacks, and extended his hand towards them as he landed, knocking them from the air by way of the Force. "Liam, I'm tired of practicing with remotes."

The rough-edged Jedi Master shook his head and sighed. "Patience. You sounds more like Master Kenobi's apprentice every day."

Asherah's started to feel a throbbing at the center of her temples. Between every vision, she heard and felt time rush by her. The sensation overwhelmed her senses. Years of training, suffering, and triumph, all in a flash. And then... Dathomir. She watched as Matier broke her father, bent him to her will, and drowned his spirit in the dark. "Though it might not look like it now," she heard her father's words, "I loved her very much then. In a way, everything I've become, I owe to her."

Blaster fire. Heavy breathing. They were somewhere else: a forest world, with auroras shimmering high in a night's sky. Troopers clad in white armor rushed by them, calling a few commands to one another with their lifeless, filtered voices. "Where did he go?" they one of them yelled. "Find him!"

Then, carnage. She watched as her father ripped through the troopers with rage in his eyes. When it was over, his bloody form collapsed against a mossy tree. His wings were no longer elegant or primmed. They were bloody and broken.

Then Asherah felt... exile. Ilum. A frozen waste land.

[Asherah]

The images revealed to her were both informative and disturbing. She braced herself against the swift winds of change that both pulled at their clothing and scattered their minds. He wanted to understand, to know her, and in turn he exchanged a part of himself. Asherah felt him then and the sensation was more empowering than the reality of him standing there. Warm and comforting, firm and unyielding. It was so absolute that she might have missed the sudden change of their dream state.

Her senses were coated with a thick blanket of snow and her body trembled just slightly as the boreal climate grappled fiercely with validity. Her fingers curled a bit more tightly around his wrists and she stared boldly onward through the frozen wasteland. Then, something completely familiar struck her. The perception was so vivid and so sudden that she forgot to breathe.

The scorching calidity at her back made her flinch and she knew that if she turned now, she would be witness to a cabal of Windigos pulling themselves up from the bowls of hell. The impact of that presence was so absolutely evil that even the supportive warmth of her sire seemed amplified into something terrifying. Her nails sank into the flesh of his arms and her teeth gnashed into the soft flesh of her lips. Her head snapped back and she was taken to a time when he didn't exist.

----

It was a time in her life where all she wanted to do was escape. Asherah had wandered far beyond the wall of mist, away from the sanctuary of the village, and she had paused to observe some offworlders who had landed in a small clearing. Their ship had been the first piece of real modern technology that she had ever observed and curiosity dragged her closer, whispering horribly seductive thoughts in her all too eager ears.

She was wandering right into ruination, she realized too late.

Upon further inspection, she noticed that there were many outsiders there and they had begun to build a small civilization of their own. All men, she noted. That should have been her first warning. Matier had often advised her against associating herself with the gender, unless to mate or discipline.

Unknowingly, she had slipped right into their trap. She fought against their nets, their metal contraptions that bit roughly into her flesh. She rebelled against their confining hands that seemed to be everywhere at once and she screamed at volumes not once even considered by the introverted youth.

The feeling she had experienced with Jeseth was the same she had there. It was then that Matier had lost her last grip on sanity, Asherah had felt it. Blood, limbs, and spirits were slung about the encampment and then sucked forth into a fiery chasm of hatred. Trees, ships, and make-shift houses exploded and rained down upon them. Asherah, broken as she was, could only stare up at her mother in horror, awe, and relief. Their relationship changed after that. In truth, they barely had one at all.

----

"Father has come back to us, Matier..." She whispered coolly as the last of the vision faded, turning her eyes over her shoulder. Her form could not be seen, but Asherah knew that she lurked somewhere within the darkness.

[Jeseth Cloak]

His knees felt weak. Withdrawing from the visions had left him disoriented and tired, and he only managed to regain some of his concentration after hearing Asherah speak Matier's name. His daughter had led a horrid existence in his absence. Would she had experienced anymore of a normal life if he had remained on Dathomir all those years ago? It was unlikely.

Reaching out, he found that his senses had been worn down to their most basic of elements, and that he could not register Matier's presence. He turned to the shadows. "I have to commend you, Matier." Jeseth said sarcastically. "I had no idea you could be such a wonderful mother." His crimson eyes narrowed against the darkness. He still couldn't see her.

"I've returned, because I've no place left to go." he added. It was the truth. The day that Matier poisoned his heart with hatred and sorrow, Jeseth had ceased to be a Jedi... and became something else: a servant of the Dark Side of the Force; A Dark Jedi. The resentment was already welling up inside of him. It had all been Matier's doing... she had ruined him.

[Matier]

The immense, red-barked trees began to tremble but were swiftly constricted by the opaque tendrils of haze that wound around them. The thin streams of sunlight that managed to bypass the canopy above slowly died away, draping the enigmatic duo in complete caliginosity. The color bled from their vision and the tainted aspect of Matier's abilities painted their world in grey shades.

Ethereal flashes of illumination stumbled, like lightning possessed of devils, down the distinct row of tree growth and caused their senses to tingle. The faint chant of ghostly voices teased their ears with airy tongues and the violent poltergeists flitting about their forms raked cruel caresses down their rigid spines with errant claws.

When the Clan Mother of Aurilia chose to reveal herself, the ordeal occured in the same eerie manner as the appearance of her spectre agents. Her willowy frame seemed to contort in an otherworldly way, jerking and gliding. The color rushed back to their eyes and the copious torrents of drying blood became ever more noticeable. Deep lacerations were carved into her chest, wrists, and legs and massive metal rings had been shoved through various other sections of her body. Those eyes, once a fresh gold untarnished by insanity, had become clouded with fire. They were now an unhealthy shade of amber and they locked firmly upon Jeseth's face.

Her finger armor tinkled as those digits fidgeted and her chest quivered with each labored breath she took. She glanced back once, taking in the leering eyes of the clanwomen who had chosen to follow her. Among their number, her other daughter, Megaera, stood. She turned her hungry gaze back to Asherah and her father, her feral expression quite unreadable.

"No place left to go...? Well then, my love, Aurilia is just the place for you. Our fair city has never turned away the wrathful, bloodthirsty outcasts. You'll fit right in..." She told him in that heavily accented, seductive voice from so long ago.

[Jeseth Cloak]

"That's not enough." Jeseth replied, his lips drawing back in anger. He gazed at Matier with longing and hatred. What has she done to herself? he wondered briefly, taking note of the wounds and piercings that adorned her body before temporarily suppressing his curiosity. There would be plenty of time for questions once they were alone.

"I won't be made into your puppet again, Matier." he said, and raised one hand towards the witch, as if he was grabbing at something that nobody else could see. She felt her throat lock up. "Dismiss your servants." Jeseth demanded. Something inside him had awoken. He didn't want to kill her now; he wanted to ravage her. "Better yet," he said with a smirk, "have them prepare us a feast." He knew that for them to lower themselves to such a task, especially to the benefit of a man, would be more degradation than most of them had ever had to bare.

[Megaera]

Megaera watched in fascinated horror, never had she seen her beloved Dame, allow such aggresion, such.. blatant disrespect from a male. They were for the breeding. Her own father was nothing more than a slave, a thing that had been used by Matier and then thrown to the pits to await death, or further use. This man, this God-like man, with his aura of menace and power, he was no such stallion for the begetting of progeny and clanswomen. He was a natural ruler.

The leadership and command that Matier was not, much as Megaera hated to admit it. Matier ruled through fear. This man would rule through utter power. In time he would come to be known as C'nros Valuk, and they would dare only whisper his name..

Closing her eyes, Megaera inhaled swiftly as if she could draw in his very essence and foretell their fates from it. The scent of his blood, she knew it... Her eyes popped open locked onto her half-sister. Of course.. They were so alike, but so very different. Although she was not without skill, Megaera would never be the warrior that Asherah was, never such perfected brutality and skill.. Her own talents were in persuasion, farseeing and that which the Sisters held most sacred, magick..

Waves of pleasure rolled off her Mother, but the asphixiation would soon cause her Dame to black out, intervention was required.. The C'nros Valuk desired a feast, and could not have arrived on a more auspicious night for that command to be met. Megaera stepped forward, eyes downcast..

"The orb of Koratas will soon bleed the skies crimson. You arrive with the Feast of Chath lu'Siltrin, Sire..", Megaera spoke, her tones dulcet and pleasing, but capable of treachery to those not of Aurilla's dark heritage.

"Light the fires..", she ordered.

The night would burn with the scent of roasting flesh, charred meats and free flowing wine and ale. The ground would vibrate with the pounding of feet, and the sigh of those exhausted from the sacred leaps over their ritual pyres would whisper on the morning wind. The energy raised from their undulating and gyrations would stir the Mists and the full moon of Koratas would welcome their King.

[Jeseth Cloak]

Jeseth had been watching Matier, tightening his hold on her as the moments ticked by, but his attention suddenly shifted when the younger woman spoke, and his grip on Matier slipped away. The other women bowed, their spiteful eyes fixed upon the fallen Jedi, and scattered from his sight. Now it they were alone - well, almost alone. The younger woman who had spoken, hadn't moved an inch.

It was obvious that Jeseth was somewhat perplexed by her lingering presence. When the other women had all dispersed to tend to the various chores associated with the preparation of a feast, she had stayed behind... by Matier's side. Why? "Who are you?" he asked Megaera, giving in to his curiosity. She had spoken for Matier; that alone implied that she had attained high standing amongst the Nightsisters.

[Megaera]

Her head canted slightly to one side, a gentle tilt as if she expected him to hold all the answers already, and not ask them. She was pleased with her maternal lineage, and proudly announced to him the fact..

"Matier is my mother, as well... I am Magaera."

She lowered her eyes again, meek.. obedient. She knew this man, had seen his visage in her dreams. His coming had been awaited, unknowingly.. He would not allow her father to live, not that the fact bothered Megaera. His function had been to seed her life, nothing more.

For the first time in recollection, she envied her sister, Asherah. Envied her not for her skill, but for the strong blood that pumped through her veins, the blood of He, who would be their Valuk, revered and feared for more than brutality..

[Matier]

I won't be made into your puppet again, Matier.

The Clan Mother opened her mouth to retort with some snide remark denouncing his forceful resolution but found that he had promptly choked off her ability to do so. Every muscle, humming in violent pending, strained against the urge to retaliate as she might have done regularly. But, she reminded herself, she had really brought this to fold. Matier would allow him this seething hatred, she would admire the power he wielded while despising her, and she would adore how the Dark Side would steadily tear down his carefully obtained control once again without her abuse to quicken it.

But patience, she also realized, was something she quite verily lacked.

Once his grip on her had released, she very slowly dragged in a breath of fresh air. Soon, the mist would be filled with the aroma of scorching flesh and wood. Jeseth's return would certainly effect the mood at the feast, but it would not ruin it. She'd like to think that it would enhance the holiday.

Striding forward, she passed the Dark Jedi as if he wasn't even there and wrapped an arm about her daughter, Megaera. Matier's other arm flexed and the slender fingers adorning her pale hand gingerly stroked across the flawless skin of her face.

"Such a darling family, we make." She remarked, untangling herself from her daughter and flashing a glance toward Asherah. She briefly thought about Megaera's arrival into this world. Her sire had been taken from the clan deep within the Mountains on a raid. Quite strong, extremely handsome. It was too bad that he would be leaving the land of the living so soon, at the hands of her former mate no less. Megaera seemed quite unconcerned about the vision that had come to her, but she was a good girl.

"Stay with your sister, Megaera. I'll be heading back to the village square now." She informed her, though her words were meant to reach all of her family. Matier turned a horribly wicked smile over her shoulder and aimed it straight at Jeseth, then she spoke again. "Who knows? Perhaps I'll run into your father."

The jagged folds of her fur cloak swirled defiantly as she drifted back into the shadows of the trees.

[Jeseth Cloak]

Jeseth's anger subsided as he watched Matier strut away. He suddenly felt very foolish. Was his Jedi training was asserting itself again? Or was it... No. He had harbored nothing but hatred for her in his heart. Why should that change now? he asked himself, his eyes running down the length of her toned back and familiar, perfect - Damn it! he cursed in silence.

"So," he stated, glancing back at his daughter and her sister, "she... has a mate now." He coughed uncomfortably, thinking about what that would mean. "Don't follow me." he said to the two women, scowling as he hurried after Matier, the mother of his only child. She had been with another. How many times? How many times had the sanctity of her body been violated and ravaged by him?

"I won't allow it." Jeseth whispered under his breath, stalking after Matier. Was she bewitching him again? For a moment he stopped in his tracks, simply watching her from behind. Would she stop for him? No. She pretended as if he didn't even exist. His red eyes came alive with anger. He watched every male that came close to her, waiting to see which would opened his filthy mouth to speak to her. He wanted to kill them. All of them.

Matier walked by a male who dared to glance at her for the briefest of instances. Jeseth's glare was death to him. The Human fell to the ground, clutching his stomach and moaning. Blood began to erupt from his mouth in sporadic torrents. He would never stop. Not until she realized that none could ever desire her as he did.

[Megaera]

Megaera could not, and more importantly would not, do anything about her father's fate. It was not as if they had a cozy relationship. Matier had been seeded by him to beget her, and that was the extent of it. She saw him now and then in passing, and always she felt withdrawn from him. He was not important to the clan in anyway and he did not inspire awe..

Not the way her sister's father did. She approached Asherah as she had been told to do. Megaera did not disobey her mother, ever..

"I see now.", she said to her elder sister.

"I see why we are so very different, Dalninil. You are like them both." she nodded after the retreating backs of Matier and the C'nros Valuk. Which was the only acceptable way she could think of the man for now. The man who even now was seeking out her other parent for the slaughtering..