An Accord of Darkness (Rommelisch)

Hera waited outside the large black metal doors for permission to enter Rommelisch's chamber with studied patience.

She hoped Fortunbras would not be with him, much as she appreciated the superior appearance of the younger mage, he was a distraction more than anything else. For both herself and the old man.

What she wished to discuss with Zedrich, she was not certain was for the ears of his apprentice, no matter how much Rommelisch vouched for him.

Fortunbras' youth made him susceptible to appetites long forgotten by those of Zedrich's age. Appetites of ambition and power, things Hera herself still lusted after.

Yes, it would be much better if Rommelisch was alone.

The door opened slowly, the scent immediately drafting from the room was of various spices and dried herbs. The room was lit by candles of all things, the lights that were normally placed in the ceiling had been either ripped out crudely or removed through some other brutal means.
From those holes hung lamps from black chains. The room was foreign to any other room that might have accomodated someone from the Empire. Such were the luxuries of the Mages of the Imperium.

Zedrich Rommelisch, who was lounging against the far wall upon a pile of pillows in the main room, sat up slowly. He lacked the heavy mantle and robe, wrapped in blood red silks and cloths, his frame was frail and his yellow eyes caught the light in a weird way.

"M'lady Drenkast, your visit is a pleasure, I'm honored to have you in my humble dwelling."

Her entrance took on the semblence of a stroll as, upon stepping into the low-lighted room, Hera slowed her steps in order to take in the bedouin surroundings.

"Love what you've done to the place, Rommelisch" she remarked with dry humor. "You've made it your own, I'll give you that. And, thank god, I've enjoyed enough grand and drafty rooms and corridors here to last me a lifetime. No, dont stir yourself," she added, hurrying forward to spare the old man the inconvenience of social courtesy, "I'll come join you"

She gestured to the cushions opposite him and Zedrich nodded his wizzened head. Hera plomped herself down neatly.

"Its nice of you to see me" she opened, "I find myself wanting for friends these days" so saying with a coy smile that made her eyes dance a little.

"Ah friends, I had so many once..."

His eyes didn't drift away into some senile memory at the statement, but rather sharpened on Hera, leaving it a small phrase with many larger meanings.

"I'm glad this could be arranged, my Dear. And I appreciate your concern..."

One mummified hand in red silk gestured toward his withered frame.

"... I would have liked to accomodate you as much as I could in better days, but my youth and prowress has taken its toll, as I'm sure you understand.

Would you like anything to drink?"

"Rum, if you have it" Hera replied, not really caring if he did'nt.

"Youth is overrated" she continued, "And, any form of prowess is not what I require from you. It's your mind I need, Zedrich, your experience" She held his gaze steadily. "I believe beyond any doubt that you have exactly what I need"

"Do you now? And what, my beautiful, demanding associate, might you need of my old, decrepit mind? My experience? Bah, what have I seen that you might possibly need? I have no such knowledge of the universe that might grant you things long lost."

His eyes glittered in the lamp light even more now as he finished his sentence. The smirk on his face was partially hidden behind the scraggle of his beard.

"But maybe I shouldn't judge a failure so quickly, tell me what ails you, m'Lady."

Hera's eye's darted involuntarily to look over her shoulder - a habit she tried, but could not break - and the reason for this hovered silently in the dimmed corner. IMP. The droid was as unobtrusive as it could be, yet its presence was deafeningly obvious. Helghast heard and saw most everything the Sith did and said. It was common knowledge and every interaction was taken in stride with this. Clearly, Hera had no secrets from the Inquisitors, with the only exception being her own inner workings. She smiled slyly.

"Im interested in trinkets" she said leadingly. "Amulets, to be specific"

The old mage must know of some of the Ancient Sith practices. He was probably very schooled in them, if the truth be known. And linked to these ancient ways were artifacts of energy convergences. Physical items to which the dark powers could be, and were, channelled in and through.

Hera would very much like to get her hands on one of these.

"You see any in all your travels, old man?"

His mummified paw lifted gently into the air.

"You, all-knowing droid, leave us be..."

The droid seemed to hesitate and IMP, of all the things the devious mechination could do actually darted away. Whether it left or simply moved into the hazy darkness of the room was unknown but that it responded at all was something of notable worth.

"M'Lady, my travels have seen many interesting trinkets, but I think I've an idea of exactly what you might've liked to have seen if you could have been there with me.

Ohh..."

That was all he could make out as he struggled to stand slowly, laughing coarsely at his own fragility. He stood and straightened ever so slowly. If Hera became impatient, he'd just waste more of her time. His aging would hurry for no one, not even himself.

"Let me see... One moment... Only a moment..."

He hunched over once more and scuttled into the darkness. A loud clunking noise was heard and the shadows were illuminated with blood red light, similar to that of IMP or Helghast's eye. A cabinet was opened and in it some kind of cylinder, like a totem, with a bird's skull nailed to the top. Runes ran down it but so did a long belt that held an extensive amount of pouches. Hera could see Zedrich's one free hand slowly digging through each of them.

"Mmmm... No... No... Not there... Just another moment M'lady..."

Hera's eyes sparked with an eagerness that bordered on alarming. It was everything she could do to stop herself from snatching the totem from Zedrich's withered claw and greeedily rummaging through those bags herself.

A glance at the old man kept her rooted in place - he was looking at her and in his face she saw he'd read her thoughts as clearly as if she'd shouted them to him. A curious smile tugged at the corners of his mouth.

Forced to patience, but unable to remain still, Hera got to her feet.

"Why dont I find that rum while you search your back of tricks?"

"Hmmm... Be my guest..."

Zedrich was quite sure there was no rum but he knew she'd find the drinks nonetheless.

"They're by the... whatchamacallit... Mind the snow falcon and its mate... Drinks are near them..."

He continued to rummage as he ventured to wonder whether or not Hera would actually take to the vile concoction that awaited her. It was alcoholic to be sure but Zedrich made it here with his own miniature still to the same degree that his Masters before him had and even at this age, he feared he'd never get used to it.

Finally his bony fingers felt the sharp, defined edges of what he was looking for and instead of trying to dig anything out of this particular bag, he simply loosened the strings and pulled it from the totem. The cabinet closed itself behind him as he turned and hobbled back to his resting place.

"Oh yes... here they are..."

She rattled a couple of bottles looking for labels and, finding none, selected a previously opened bottle and poured a generous amount of liquid into two glasses. She whiffed tentatively at her drink and grimaced. It smelt like jet fuel. The two falcons eyed her choice benevolently, giving her no warning of the risk she was about to take.

"How'd you do that?" Hera queried as she crossed back over to Rommelisch and handed him a glass, indicating to IMP in the corner with a jerk of her head. "That. How'd he just obey you like that?" As Zedrich made to reply, Hera took a sip of her drink and gagged rudely, coughing back as each drop of the potent creation scalded down her throat, "Krasst, Rommelisch, what is this poison?"

Zedrich chuckled, ignoring her question about IMP as she choked on his home-made drinks.

"Its a poison that warms the soul, or at least where it should be. Once you get over the initial hump, I'd like to say, the taste test, it settled really quite well."

Zedrich plomped down into the cushions and set the bag down on the floor between them. He tipped the glass back, smacking his lips the second he pulled the edge away, and licking the corners of his mouth. It definitely had quite a kick. After Zedrich let the initial blast of the drink subside, he leaned forward, wheezing slightly as his frame pressed against his old lungs, and turned the bag over, spilling a wide assortment of crystalline shapes across the mat between them.

"You 'ave any idea what these are, m'Lady?"

Her eyes drawn immediately to the scattered stones, Hera forgot her burning throat.

"Crystals" she offered simply, then qualified, "catalysts."

He pursed his lips as he leaned forward again and hummed humorously.

"Catalysts, crystals, yes. And no. You, my pretty lady, are the real catalyst, in more ways than I think you know. But here, maybe, like some would choose to self medicate, these crystals are your catalysts of choice, much like my poisons are to such an old, miserable man as myself."

Zedrich chuckled again.

"But maybe there is a bit more to this than a simple placebo."

His hand hovered above the crystals and as the mummified silk gently lowered towards them, a hum seemed to resonate the air about the two individuals. Certain crystals abruptly sprang to life, all sorts of varying colors given the different shapes and sizes. By the time Zedrich's hand was less than six inches from the ground, every crystal was emitting its own light.

"They like me, you see. They like the taste of it, you know? The taste of the Force. Along my... adventures, I've found these caves, brimming with the Force, whether it was resonating with life or death didn't matter much to me, simply that there rested the Force. And I found that, like coils, that might amplify and carry electro-magnetic fields, these simple rocks do quite the same. I understand that Sith and Jedi alike enjoy taking such things are carving them down for their silly lightsabers but I have adjusted these none at all. I couldn't bear diminishing any of their flawless features.

But see, not every crystal will respond to an individual at first glance. These all are simply ones that I found that happened to like me."

Zedrich winked at Hera before looking back down.

"But they can easily be attuned to another, m'Lady. I used to have many, many more but I've surrendered some here and there to this and that person. I'm afraid I might have to do it again here in a moment though, unless of course I'm just lucky and none of them end up seeing your beauty as it really is.

Go ahead, stick your hand out over them and gently lower your hand. It might be faint at first, the crystals can sense even the very faintest measure of talent but they only respond in kind, if you see what I mean."

Rommelisch slowly withdrew his hand and the crystals once again lay dormant.

Hera watched the crystals illuminate with an emotion akin to jealousy. What Rommelisch accomplished with such ease of effort and, gads help her, frail elderly slowness, Hera feared she would be unable to effect a similiar result.

What shame. Zedrich's decrepit body, as unthreatening in appearance as a withered leaf, had demonstrated greater power in the force than she, a Sith Master, had been able to exercise in over five years. The memory of her recent self examination echoed in her being in self-recrimination and humiliation.

She extended her hand with an inward trepidation she would never display before another living being. Her willingness to expose such vunerability before the Ancient Mage, however, was expressive of her desperate desire to find some slender connection to the Force that had so long been seperated from her.

Her hand hovered, tentatively at first then more firmly, above the crystals. Zedrich watched her silently from where he stood.

The stones remained static, unchanged.

Hera couldn't bring her eyes to meet Rommelisch's own. Bitter words rose up in her throat, but she held them back. It wasn't his fault she failed.

She withdrew her hand after some moments, and the old man noticed she was breathing raggedly.

"Are these all you have?" she said after a while.

"So hasty, so imbittered. I think I need not instruct you on what or how about to draw on our latent abilities, do I? I would not presume that you, my mistress, would have forgotten such a thing, so I will merely implore you to allow a longer length of time to it, would you?"

Zedrich's yellow eyes glimmered a bit with amusement. The old man had an inkling to spurn the young woman a bit, in spite of the potential she had and that which he had already spent.

"No, I dont need to be instructed" she fired back, sweeping the stones away from her with a push of her hand. "Knowing how isn't the problem, you know that as much as anyone else around here"

She scowled childishly. The action was appropriate, however, as thats just what she was like, a child who's will was severely frustrated.

"I dont want it to take more time, old man. That's why Im here, why Ive come to you. Time enough has passed by" She tossed him a narrow look. "I know you have secrets that can help me"

"Silly girl, give me your hand."

Zedrich held out his mummified hand for her to place it in. If she wanted it done fast, she'd have it then.

Hera never hesitated, and gripped the Mage's offered hand as one would a life rope.

Her expectations were high, she had no other options. That being true, Hera, for better or worse, was extremely receptive to what Rommelisch might impart.

With his other hand, gnarled, exposed fingers, he quickly, and quite plainly picked up one of the crystalline shards, a longer, most notably sharper piece and stabbed the open palm of Hera's hand.

"Stay still, woman..."

His mummified hand turned hers over so that the blood began to drip quickly on the mat between them. Zedrich let it continue, regardless of Hera's discomfort, for the cut had been deep enough to call for an ample response. As soon as Zedrich thought there was enough, he released her hand and took the crystalline shard and began to draw runes and shapes using Hera's blood as ink. The blood hissed and sizzled as Zedrich finished each symbol.

"We couldn't just go about this the easy way..."

Hera watched with open curiosity as Rommelisch practiced his voodoo.

"Does Valten know you do this stuff?" she asked, supposing he did. Maybe they could put a hex on him, and Helghast too. Wouldnt that be fun. It would have to involve Crestmere to some degree. Make them all bark like dogs or something. But her mind was wandering, perhaps she was bleeding more than she realised. Hera refocused on the runes Zedrich was drawing, recognising some of them.

"I know those signs" she said, leaning forward. "I had an amulet with similar markings." Rommelisch snuffed a short laugh. They were, in fact, exactly the ones of Hera's amulet, he knew.

"Where did you learn these markings?" she asked, pressing her shirt cuff against her bleeding palm to stop the bleed.

"None of your business, fairest of the fair. But if I were to tell you, in truth, it'd be something I learned about... well, so far back that I'd rather not tell you out of shame. I'm afraid I'm quite ancient, and my knowledge is doubly so. But a man by the name of Agriel was kind enough to impart these images to the young boy I had been at the time. Now hush, I'm almost done..."

Zedrich's eye sight wasn't nearly as good as he would have preferred but he didn't need his eyes to summon up these images from his murky subconcious. They were flawless, as flawless as blood could be scratched into a mat.

"Shyr Sharaes Jhori Saer si Ser lalael..."

Obediently, she hushed, but it seemed to her the old man was the one doing the majority of the talking.

She watched his fingers move with the awkward stiffness of age and found the movement oddly mesmerising.


Trying to catch the words he was saying, Hera leaned further forward, her brow furrowing at her lack of success. They were unfamiliar.


"Rommelisch, What language are you speaking?" she whispered, not wanting to interupt him, but curiosity getting the better of her. He didn't reply for a moment and Hera guessed, incorrectly, that he had not heard.

"Rommelisch?" she prompted again in a whisper, and leaned closer still, straining to comprehend.

Making a neat circle of runes and markings on the pad with what blood he had to work with, Zedrich determined he was well enough finished with that part and attempted to gently place the bloody shard in the middle of the circle but in turn clumsily did so, given the inherent lack of dexterity of his archaic joints. The crystal bounced slightly until stopping but as soon as it rested, the air filled itself with the smell of burnt flesh, not pungent but almost aromatic to those in tune with these kind of things.

It brought back dusty memories for Zedrich which in turn only helped him focus further; the fact that Hera might have one time existed was far away from how Zedrich now saw his surroundings. He might as well have been sitting in the circles so familiar of his former brethren, six in all with the blood of the seventh and uninitiated resting in the middle.

This was the ceremony in which the Mages used to... suggest the promise of power in the uninitiated. Agriel had told Rommelisch that it was a... what had he said... "push in the right direction."

The pink crystal shard now resonated a violent purple color and the blood had long dried, scarred remnants of organic ash only remained. With Zedrich's eyes closed, he reached down towards it.

He was brought out of his trance sharply as the air crackled and the shard spat violent energy between itself and the tips of his fingers. Rommelisch fell backwards, legitimately caught off guard at first, but his haggard gasp of air quickly turned into a rasping laughter.

"It truly has been some time, hasn't it?"

And he had done it all by himself to boot. Hera came back into his realm of awareness and Zedrich changed focus from the crystal which was now a dull purple, the smell gone as well as if a breeze had taken it away, to Hera.

"Well, my dear, what did you think of that? Nothing like a pocket full of fireworks to brighten the day up, eh?"

Well it was nice to see the old guy gettin his hair blown back, but Hera felt little personal excitement at Zedrich's achievement. It meant little to her that she could see.

"Yeah, thats real nice Rommelisch, but apart from it being very prettty to watch, I dont see what you accomplished."

In other words, Hera did not see any impact in it for her, except that her blood had been a type of conduit or spark effect.

His frown was in disappointment at the girl's response. All of that and she still didn't smile.

"A sultry little brat aren't you?

He did not dare touch the crystal himself just yet and did not feel inclined to speak further to Hera until he had settled himself again, setting this or that straight and finally sitting back down. He sighed, the glimmer in his yellow eyes a bit duller. Ah, he was getting old... This simple act had drained him quite well and his mirth with it. Zedrich knew it was her acquired ignorance for the Force and her frustration therein but he now had less patience for Hera than he was willing to share, maybe later if so inclined.

"Pick the blasted thing up then. And make your way out, woman. I've not the time to bother with drawn out explanations other than that is what you would call an 'augmentation', and very personal at that. It will augment even the barest thread of the Force from your useless husk. Now out, out with you..."

Zedrich pushed himself up slowly on his small staff and moved forward to usher the woman away, giving her only a brief moment to pick the crystal up and be on her way.

Hera did as she was bid. The aged often took the liberty of being cantakerous whenever the mood chose, and one such moment had descended on Rommelisch with a vigor. He had become grouchy and illhumored in an instant and Hera determined it in her own self-interest to just leave him to it.

She plucked up the crystal, its center was still hot to the touch, and tucked it into her pocket where it sat heavily against her hip.

"You probably need a nap" she offered, intending, in her own inept way, for the remark to be helpful but Zedrich groused something unintelligible at her and Hera knew she'd outstayed her welcome.

Slipping from the old Mage's apartments she patted the crystal in her pocket and made her way back to her own lodgings within the Citadel. Momentarily, IMP was hoving a short distance behind her and, to all outward appearances, the status quo of her life as an Inquisitoriate prisoner resumed.