Don't Dream of Nightmares, Hera

[Zedrich Rommelisch]

He cackled as he squatted in his room, breaking the neck of the lizard in his hands and splitting the scales so the brackish fluid dripped into the container which strangely resembled the skull of... something. He had only cackled because as Zedrich had bent over, his neck had popped in such a fashion that he was sure it had not in the last twenty odd years and it felt like that Quarian massage he had once. Good old Quarians, not many others could appreciate when they used those other tentacles.

Carefully, Zedrich unwrapped his mummified hand to reveal skin that could not to any other's eyes ever have appeared to be human. It had happened too long ago for it to be of any importance anymore now but this is more or less why he had done it, had he not?

He dipped one taloned finger into the blood and slowly brought it out, letting it trail to the corpse of a freshly killed mammal. The furry, winged creature had come from Dantooine, a rarity these days and a feisty species altogether but it was often that Rommelisch had to perform this kind of ritual these days anyways. He mixed it in with opened rib cage of the mammal and then lifted it to his lips. He gently lapped at the talon with his tongue, careful not to cut himself, as he had so many times before. He almost smirked there in memory and did it again too.

He brought out the gland from the furry mammal, so cute and yet so deadly. These little suckers could put a Bantha down with maybe one or two bites. They were smart, send one out and then the swarm could feed. Sentient creatures were not that much different in the long run. But the feeding was not relatively important here, it was the gland. The sleep it brought was the important thing, and how sweet it was, oh how sweet.

He took the gland and popped it between his taloned thumb and index finger, like a pimple. The yellow sludge splattered into the container with a thick drop and the candles in the room fluttered. With surprising dexterity with his free hand, Zedrich gripped the container and lifted it to his lips; there was only a moment in which he could manage this. And that moment passed with amazing clarity, as it always did, right before the darkness came and swept him off his feet, like a lover on their honeymoon.

Too long, young Raven, you have been here...

One day I'll come to stay, Magister Mage, one day... For now, I seek my... apprentice...

What Zedrich could comprehend as this trance-like-existence reverberated around him in what he could sense more than feel as laughter. His entity shared the same. There was a profound sadness in his soul, knowing Agriel was stuck in this Hell. Ah, but he would join him wouldn't he? You did not ravage reality and destroy for nothing? You did it because misery was company.

Hera was asleep. This Zedrich knew, but he had to reach out to her, awkward given her current state of affairs, and the distance, all but for that crystal he had given her some time ago.

Hera

[Hera]

It was a little over a month since Tear had issued The Message with his enigmatic summons - a little over a month since Hera had been a captive of his company as a result of her response to that call, and, just less than a month that she had been convinced her fortunes had finally changed for the better.

Dubious and distrustful of Tear at first - though, to be fair, that was Hera's natural state of mind regarding everyone - the two had forged an unusual alliance. To be sure, Tear had the better deal of things. All had to be played his way or not at all, what's new? But Hera had found compliance to be to her great advantage also, and the end of things was not yet seen. The Sith was buoyed by the hopes of possibility that Tear had tactically opened up to her. They both realised that she was ever increasing in her force-ability again and Tear, who would only benefit from it as her student of the Darkside arts, encouraged her to exercise it often and with determination.



The Twins were a pain in the ass though. No way around that. Their connection to Hera was unfolding daily and with each new discovery of just how, it served only to anger and annoy her more than the time before it. Tear would pay for taking such liberties at her expense. However, all things in good time. She was finally free of the bonds of the damned Inquisitoriate, technically speaking at least, and physically she enjoyed the comforts that Tear liberally granted her. It was a very satisfactory arrangement, she'd decided. Climbing into the big, comfortable bed and sinking into its feather-soft plushness, she was quite aware of just how nicely things were coming around.


.....She was on Myrkyr, starving in that hideous cave. Her stomach growled hungrily as she crouched in the rocky entrance, debating with herself whether to venture out in the daylight hours to seek food. Her unwoken consciousness tried to re-right the dream, tried to remind herself that she was no longer on that planet, but the images persisted. The reality was pushed aside by the strength of the unconscious state, like whisps of smoke trying to be caught by snatching fingers - the untennable tendrils escaping capture by the very action of the grasping.

Someone laughed and Hera spun about to see who. It was Gem or was it Ellae? Oh, it was both of them and they were standing behind the counter in the small cafe Hera remembered from the Imperial Citadel. They were cooking eggs, which was silly because the Cafe only served Coffee and the like, oh - and those chocolate croissants, apparently supplied on the express order of Victor Crestmere who, it was widely reported, had a terrible sweet tooth..

The oil in the frypan popped and spat and yellow sludge was dribbling down the wall. They were cooking on too high a heat. Hera would scold them, maybe beat them for it, but the Old Mage had taken their place and was squatting on the counter top. Rommelisch...she had not thought of him in a great while...


In a chest on top of a set of drawers was a small velvet pouch. It nestled beside the dagger Valten had given her and the ornamental box which held Baralai's laquered tongue, and with in it lay a pink crystal. These items Tear had seen delivered back into Hera's possession shortly after she had settled with him. How he'd retrieved them, he'd never said but Hera assumed one of the many individuals in his service had done the honor. The crystal glowed faintly, barely registering a change in its tones at all before dimming back to static once more.

Zedrich could see her face, knew she could see him, but Hera's skill had not returned in this aspect of the Force yet. Much like the tendrils of smoke, that any movement to grasp her consciousness would only serve to scatter it farther from reach, the old Mage must content himself with a one-way conduit. She could see him, perhaps hear him, but she could not reciprocate the same.

....He was as ancient as she remembered him to be and bent and crouching as he was lent more patheticness to his frame. His eyes though, as always, were alert and perceptive. And it was with a shock, even in her dreamstate she felt the total unexpectedness of it, that he spoke directly to her..."Hera"

[Zedrich Rommelisch]

To the contrary of his expected weaknesses, he gracefully slid from where he was crouched. The tendrils of smoke wrapped about him like shreds of clothing and his stoop was gone as he stretched. The ancient beard seemed to trim itself to maybe an inch in length of pale blond hair. He slowly pulled back his hood to reveal a younger Zedrich Rommelisch. He had the grin of the Highwayman from the Corellian story books and his clothes fit an age long past and beyond anyone ever recalling such a fashion. Crystals similar to the one Hera had in her possession hung hear and there from his garb like ornaments but they all resonated with a glow that seemed to swallow what left of the smoke.

Fancy that. Careful, my dear, how willing you are to such a summons. To much consent, even on a subconcious level and...

Zedrich's mouth never moved and still sounded just as old but without the rasp, merely a mental echo of his own personal understanding of his voice. He held his hand out from where it had rested in his robes and in his palm rested a lightsaber.

Familiar? I suppose it should be. I took it from you but I've no name for it yet.

He smirked as it slipped back into his robes. He gave a rather illustrious bow though, sensing Hera's... well, Hera in general.

Yes, yes. Enough with the pleasantries. You give me the chance to speak to you and yet you won't keep gifts closer to your heart where they belong. I should say serves you right but then again...

To be blunt, IMP let you go, my mistress, on my command. Your doting caretaker, Helghast is away now and IMP has informed him of your escape but he is too far and too much engaged in other business to worry about a silly, angry girl that has no visible control of the disastrous abilities she once had.

Why I let you go is for my own reasons but consider it a favor for now, Dark Lady. Helghast would send the Mages after you if he had already not put us all under watch with an execution order pending on myself. The politics of the situation of course have our favorite human machine bogged down because my death might mean a small revolt in the Imperial Mages who are currently handling some... sensitive materials on the Inquisitoriate's behalf.

But I still feel like I'm doing all the talking...

Zedrich laughed and his face, as if suddenly smoke, seemed to spasm with the echo of his laughter. Between spastic glances, blacker than black feathers shimmered in the shadows of the smoke.

[Hera]

Why didn't dreams make any sense? Sure, the ones brought on by basic physical frustrations that hit a person outta the blue and gave them a springy start to their day, those made sense. They were short, sweet and over and done - no complications. This dream was nothing so simple as that.

For starters, when did Rommelisch get hair? And a straight back? His voice was the same and coming from that pretty face, was just all wrong. And her lightsaber? Now, that made no sense whatever. She'd left that tucked squarely away at ShadowFaene, her home base, safely secured under a myriad of traps so that only she could retrieve it. Unless, of course, the old wizard had helped himself to her memories or maybe that artwork she'd once done..

Hera was tiring of these Imperials helping themselves to whatever the frell they chose.

.."Helghast is away now and IMP has informed him of your escape"..

Even in her sleep, the statement elicited a low, sour groan from Hera's lips. Helghast. Bloody man. Maybe Tear will help me kil him.

.."But I still feel like I'm doing all the talking"..


Hera tried to wake up, to remove herself from Rommelisch and his grating prattle, but failed to do so. The shadows closed and she heard the rapping of wings, insolent and bold.

Zedrich had presented as an ally for Hera, a source of opportunity during her imprisonment in the Citadel and she had sought his knowledge. He had responded kindly, even eagerly to draw to himself someone he could develop a rapport with. Was he only mocking her now? Was his purpose for appearing to her this way soley to indulge his own curiosity, or showcase his own mastery of ancient skills? Or in his prating, roundabout way was he trying to warn her?

Oh, he was talking. Again.

[Zedrich Rommelisch]

The confines, if you could call them that, shuddered.

Don't do that, woman.

Becoming much less obtrusive the smoke fluttered and in Zedrich's handsome place was a twisted, gnarled tree and on its one healthy branch rested an old crow, silver underlining its ragged wings. The eyes were still the same golden though.

Hera's sudden desire to awaken had shortened the time available exponentially but that she had willingly allowed Zedrich to use her blood in the ritual of the "forging" of the crystal had given him an ounce of ability to not close the link altogether.

Who are Gem and Ellae by the way? Nevermind... Hera, I need to warn you...

Ah, blasted woman. She'd just have to find out later. Zedrich could not get through to Hera what Helghast was intending to do, an action to blatantly spit in her face for her... betrayal if you could call it that. At least Helghast would see it that way...

The light of Zedrich's candles slowly came to, piercing the vision of his old eyes. He grunted, slowly pulling himself up from his collapsed position where he had fallen. Glancing at the pendelum in the room, several hours had passed. Maybe too many, given consideration to all the things that would be falling into place soon.

[Hera]

With a gasp, Hera pulled herself to sit bolt upright, blinking for long seconds to focus on her actual surroundings. They were familiar, and safe. She was not back in the Citadel, there was no old Man or hovering droid glaring at her from the gloom. The feeling of dread gradually ebbed from her, leaving only the clammy coldness of the cooling perspiration that had sprung up on her skin.

She tossed back the covers and rose in one rush movement from the bed. The room was dimly illuminated by two thin running lights along the floor either side or the rooms edge, but they weren't necessary, Hera made a direct line straight to the chest on top of the drawers.

Thowing open the lid, she snatched up the velvet pouch and from it drew the crystal. It was warm to the touch. She scowled deeply, remembering the day Rommelisch gave it to her. She'd been so desperate then, so vunerable. Her eyes hardened, she was not quite so weak now - not by a long measure.. But the old Mage had invaded her mind easily enough, as if she were a novice. That must not be allowed to happen again, not unless it was on her terms. She had been remiss to be so complacent about the crystal..had all her former instructions been so easily forgotten? Inwardly, Hera knew that was not the case - the fault was not "time's", but her own neglect in revitalizing certain aspects of her old training. She had been lazy, complacent, making excuses for herself.

Zedrich had done her a great favor by his visit and she would not spurn its warning. Starting today, she would work in earnest to recapture all her force skills, mental as well as the physical. The Wizard's next foray into her mind would go much differently, she would make sure of that.

But first, she would inform Tear. Mulling over the things Rommelisch had said, his visitation had revealed some interesting developments. Helghast was aware she was gone from the Citadel, that was not surprising, not really. A month had past and her absence would be noticed even by the most lethargic of Imperial personell within the Tower. Word, even from the slowest mouth, would have by now reached him. What was intriuging by far was that the Mages themselves had fallen from grace and were fearful of the Inquisitors retributions.

Hera depressed a button on the intercom consol of her room, "Get me Tear....I dont care what the time is you idiot....Hail him or poke him with a stick, wherever he his, I want him contacted immediately. Now, imbecile!"