Mezhan Kwaad's Profile »
Dying For Your Approval - Chapter 2
Continuing on from last week's post, here's chapter two of my fan fiction of the title above. As always, please excuse any silly question marks that may sneak into this post due to Yahell's wonderful way with words ;) And if you do read, please review!
If this chapter makes abseloutely no sense to you - you may be looking for the first chapter, which can be found in my Blog History one post back :)
Now.
Bones popped painfully from their muscle-bound joints into a state of dislocation. Tendons stretched to their limits so as to cause immense pain, but not so as to inflict permanent or fatal injury. Tsavong Lah's body was alive with pain's burning caress, as he hung from the spindly tendrils of the embrace of pain. Every so often, a somewhat tormented hiss would escape his frayed lips, but nothing more. The embrace knew though, that the being it manipulated within its grasp, was in a constant state of purest agony.
Often, when the pain became so intense that even the warmaster could not keep himself in a state of consciousness, the embrace would sense this, lessening it's torturous onslaught of torment until the threat of unconsciousness would subside. When the black spots, that had once invaded Tsavong Lah's vision, began to fade, he became aware of the embrace 'observing' him via one of it's white-hot tendrils. Almost immediately it resumed it?s task and fiery explosions of agony blossomed once again in his weary, pain-soaked limbs.
The sensation, while exquisitely cleansing, did nothing in the way of aiding him embrace the pain and torment that plagued his mind. And yet it confused him to such a degree that he would have gladly sacrificed several of his own implants just to gain the knowledge his mind desired. How could one embrace a pain that was so unlike anything he had ever experienced? One so devious and elusive, Yun-Harla herself could have breathed life into it. Not like the pain inflicted by the embrace, no. This ran deeper, if that were possible.
Tsavong Lah had come here seeking answers, a chance to purge these thoughts from his mind as he would relieve a Jeedai infidel of their life. But all he had found were more questions. Commanding the embrace of pain into releasing it?s hold on him, he pulled himself into a standing position. A fine vein of black blood trailed down his back, between his muscular shoulder blades. What must he do to embrace this pain? How best to unravel the secrets that Yun-Harla seemed to cherish close to her borrowed heart? Perhaps this was a test?
Tsavong Lah reached for his living cloak, hooking it onto his shoulder-barbs. He then made for the exit of the chamber, in search of the answers. If anyone would know, then this person was the most trusted he could ask. He had not run out of options yet.
******
Then.
Khalee Lah's whole frame almost shook with excitement. The searing pain he felt ripple through his nerves, a testament to his ability to embrace it for the most part. He took it well considering the severity of the wound being inflicted upon him for the purpose of escalation. All around him scores of priests devoted to Yun-Yammka and Yun-Yuuzhan performed various rituals, one using the blood that seeped from the wounds of the warriors kneeling before the effigies to the two gods, which was then collected and poured over said effigies to a chorus of monotonous chanting. Seers raised their voices in exaltation, calling upon the gods to witness the passage of advancement these warriors would soon take. Their droning adding a slightly sinister edge to the whole ceremony.
A warrior's first mark of escalation was a moment to be treasured; it marked the passage from barely trained crecheling, to the lowest rank of warrior. A status usually granted to warriors in their mid to late teens.
Indeed, the average age of the five warriors here today, was 16. It was this fact that sought to make 13 year old Khalee Lah feel extremely confident in his own abilities. He had had to fight claw and coufee - sometimes literally - to get to this point, so he had cause to make this day as a very honourable one indeed.
Thus he had chosen the most complicated of all the implants that were on offer to the young warriors. One that would grow as he did over time. He had chosen the horn of the vicious Niikh'eqq. A creature popularly used in both battle and for entertainment by way of arena fights. Few, save for perhaps the Vua'sa beast, could match it?s untameable ferocity. Thus making it ideal in symbolism for his future among the warrior caste. Few Khalee Lah's age lacked the confidence that came with inexperience, but caution would come in time.
From atop a large dais comprised of yorik coral, stood warmaster Czulkang Lah. Beside him his son, Supreme commander Tsavong Lah. They were required to attend such escalations of all warriors, but neither relished the idea at the best of times. Particularly if those receiving a new implant or scar were of a rivalling domain.
However, today was different in every sense of the word. Tsavong Lah stood tall, filled with a pride only a father could have for his son?s early, but speedy, progress. The young warrior's upbringing had been out of his hands, as was the case with all Yuuzhan Vong of true caste. Yet here he was. Tsaving Lah could only guess at what ability his son could wield in battle if he were to be instructed in later training by one such as himself. Or better- the warmaster.
'The gods smile upon our domain' He thought with relish. Indeed domain Lah had produced some of the Yuuzhan Vong's best warriors, it was an easy assumption to make considering this evidence in more detail. To one such as Tsavong Lah anyway.
"He is progressing swiftly, as you did, through his training." Czulkang Lah spoke in hushed tones, so as not to disturb the rituals going on in front of them.
"Perhaps it is time, my son, that we met this son of yours?"
The aging warmaster steepled his talloned fingers as he thought more on the idea silently.
This was of course Tsavong Lah's decision to make. But should he reject the idea to meet with Kahlee, Czulkang would take the opportunity to speak with the young warrior himself. The warmaster had an eye for those adept enough in physical skill to be of great use if trained also, in the theory of battle. He had seen that adept quality in only two of his own sons, and was not about to allow the somewhat frippant Tsavong Lah to pass this opportunity up.
Thankfully, that was not the case.
"I shall request he be brought before us after the shapers are through with him, warmaster."
Czulkang nodded once in confirmation, resisting the urge to show his approval in his expression. A good warrior gave nothing away unless they bid it so.
Both warriors gazes returned to preside over the proceedings once more.
Knelt before the hideous effigy of Yun-Yammka, Khalee Lah allowed the last ebbs of a spiking pain to wash over him, as the shaper providing him with his new 'addition' finished her painstaking work.
Dark blood drizzled down his deeply scarred forehead, only adding to the increasingly horrific visage he hoped to one day complete with a series of high ranking marks.
The rather diminutive shaper stepped away, motioning for the next warrior to take up his place. Khalee Lah had been about to take his place with the newly escalated, when a particularly young subaltern pushed his way through the crowd towards him.
Unsure of this ones intentions, Khalee almost forgot himself and was about to snarl out a vicious bout of outrage at the interruption when the subaltern spoke up first.
"Sir, Warmaster Czulkang Lah asks that you will attend an audience with his self and supreme commander Tsavong Lah." He paused, then continuing "You will attend immediately after the ceremony."
Khalee Lah noted the edge in the subaltern?s voice as he had uttered the words 'will attend.'
There were no if's, but's, or maybe's in the higher echelons of Yuuzhan Vong society, but this one need not have demanded what he did. Khalee Lah was disgustingly curious, a notion he attempted not to show in his expression, but realized he had failed appallingly when a fresh pang of white hot pain shot through his skull as he frowned. The expression tugging at the fragile flesh around the newly bone-fused horn implanted upon his forehead. He embraced the pain well, showing no more than a slight eye-squint of discomfort. He was not finely attuned to every aspect of embracing pain yet, but given time, he was sure he would be.
In truth, Khalee had been a little lax because he could not help it. His father had finally requested that they meet, and not only that, his grandfather too. The great warmaster Czulkang Lah.
His every scar tingled with excitement. He had waited for this chance since learning of his heritage in the creche!
As this was not a request, but an order, Khalee Lah merely gave a salute of acknowledgment, thumping both fists to opposite shoulders before allowing the subaltern to go about their business.
'The chance I have been waiting for' He repeated to himself, 'to finally start to tread the same path the great warriors themselves have walked.'
And he was determined not to waste it.
TBC- Next week.
If this chapter makes abseloutely no sense to you - you may be looking for the first chapter, which can be found in my Blog History one post back :)
Now.
Bones popped painfully from their muscle-bound joints into a state of dislocation. Tendons stretched to their limits so as to cause immense pain, but not so as to inflict permanent or fatal injury. Tsavong Lah's body was alive with pain's burning caress, as he hung from the spindly tendrils of the embrace of pain. Every so often, a somewhat tormented hiss would escape his frayed lips, but nothing more. The embrace knew though, that the being it manipulated within its grasp, was in a constant state of purest agony.
Often, when the pain became so intense that even the warmaster could not keep himself in a state of consciousness, the embrace would sense this, lessening it's torturous onslaught of torment until the threat of unconsciousness would subside. When the black spots, that had once invaded Tsavong Lah's vision, began to fade, he became aware of the embrace 'observing' him via one of it's white-hot tendrils. Almost immediately it resumed it?s task and fiery explosions of agony blossomed once again in his weary, pain-soaked limbs.
The sensation, while exquisitely cleansing, did nothing in the way of aiding him embrace the pain and torment that plagued his mind. And yet it confused him to such a degree that he would have gladly sacrificed several of his own implants just to gain the knowledge his mind desired. How could one embrace a pain that was so unlike anything he had ever experienced? One so devious and elusive, Yun-Harla herself could have breathed life into it. Not like the pain inflicted by the embrace, no. This ran deeper, if that were possible.
Tsavong Lah had come here seeking answers, a chance to purge these thoughts from his mind as he would relieve a Jeedai infidel of their life. But all he had found were more questions. Commanding the embrace of pain into releasing it?s hold on him, he pulled himself into a standing position. A fine vein of black blood trailed down his back, between his muscular shoulder blades. What must he do to embrace this pain? How best to unravel the secrets that Yun-Harla seemed to cherish close to her borrowed heart? Perhaps this was a test?
Tsavong Lah reached for his living cloak, hooking it onto his shoulder-barbs. He then made for the exit of the chamber, in search of the answers. If anyone would know, then this person was the most trusted he could ask. He had not run out of options yet.
******
Then.
Khalee Lah's whole frame almost shook with excitement. The searing pain he felt ripple through his nerves, a testament to his ability to embrace it for the most part. He took it well considering the severity of the wound being inflicted upon him for the purpose of escalation. All around him scores of priests devoted to Yun-Yammka and Yun-Yuuzhan performed various rituals, one using the blood that seeped from the wounds of the warriors kneeling before the effigies to the two gods, which was then collected and poured over said effigies to a chorus of monotonous chanting. Seers raised their voices in exaltation, calling upon the gods to witness the passage of advancement these warriors would soon take. Their droning adding a slightly sinister edge to the whole ceremony.
A warrior's first mark of escalation was a moment to be treasured; it marked the passage from barely trained crecheling, to the lowest rank of warrior. A status usually granted to warriors in their mid to late teens.
Indeed, the average age of the five warriors here today, was 16. It was this fact that sought to make 13 year old Khalee Lah feel extremely confident in his own abilities. He had had to fight claw and coufee - sometimes literally - to get to this point, so he had cause to make this day as a very honourable one indeed.
Thus he had chosen the most complicated of all the implants that were on offer to the young warriors. One that would grow as he did over time. He had chosen the horn of the vicious Niikh'eqq. A creature popularly used in both battle and for entertainment by way of arena fights. Few, save for perhaps the Vua'sa beast, could match it?s untameable ferocity. Thus making it ideal in symbolism for his future among the warrior caste. Few Khalee Lah's age lacked the confidence that came with inexperience, but caution would come in time.
From atop a large dais comprised of yorik coral, stood warmaster Czulkang Lah. Beside him his son, Supreme commander Tsavong Lah. They were required to attend such escalations of all warriors, but neither relished the idea at the best of times. Particularly if those receiving a new implant or scar were of a rivalling domain.
However, today was different in every sense of the word. Tsavong Lah stood tall, filled with a pride only a father could have for his son?s early, but speedy, progress. The young warrior's upbringing had been out of his hands, as was the case with all Yuuzhan Vong of true caste. Yet here he was. Tsaving Lah could only guess at what ability his son could wield in battle if he were to be instructed in later training by one such as himself. Or better- the warmaster.
'The gods smile upon our domain' He thought with relish. Indeed domain Lah had produced some of the Yuuzhan Vong's best warriors, it was an easy assumption to make considering this evidence in more detail. To one such as Tsavong Lah anyway.
"He is progressing swiftly, as you did, through his training." Czulkang Lah spoke in hushed tones, so as not to disturb the rituals going on in front of them.
"Perhaps it is time, my son, that we met this son of yours?"
The aging warmaster steepled his talloned fingers as he thought more on the idea silently.
This was of course Tsavong Lah's decision to make. But should he reject the idea to meet with Kahlee, Czulkang would take the opportunity to speak with the young warrior himself. The warmaster had an eye for those adept enough in physical skill to be of great use if trained also, in the theory of battle. He had seen that adept quality in only two of his own sons, and was not about to allow the somewhat frippant Tsavong Lah to pass this opportunity up.
Thankfully, that was not the case.
"I shall request he be brought before us after the shapers are through with him, warmaster."
Czulkang nodded once in confirmation, resisting the urge to show his approval in his expression. A good warrior gave nothing away unless they bid it so.
Both warriors gazes returned to preside over the proceedings once more.
Knelt before the hideous effigy of Yun-Yammka, Khalee Lah allowed the last ebbs of a spiking pain to wash over him, as the shaper providing him with his new 'addition' finished her painstaking work.
Dark blood drizzled down his deeply scarred forehead, only adding to the increasingly horrific visage he hoped to one day complete with a series of high ranking marks.
The rather diminutive shaper stepped away, motioning for the next warrior to take up his place. Khalee Lah had been about to take his place with the newly escalated, when a particularly young subaltern pushed his way through the crowd towards him.
Unsure of this ones intentions, Khalee almost forgot himself and was about to snarl out a vicious bout of outrage at the interruption when the subaltern spoke up first.
"Sir, Warmaster Czulkang Lah asks that you will attend an audience with his self and supreme commander Tsavong Lah." He paused, then continuing "You will attend immediately after the ceremony."
Khalee Lah noted the edge in the subaltern?s voice as he had uttered the words 'will attend.'
There were no if's, but's, or maybe's in the higher echelons of Yuuzhan Vong society, but this one need not have demanded what he did. Khalee Lah was disgustingly curious, a notion he attempted not to show in his expression, but realized he had failed appallingly when a fresh pang of white hot pain shot through his skull as he frowned. The expression tugging at the fragile flesh around the newly bone-fused horn implanted upon his forehead. He embraced the pain well, showing no more than a slight eye-squint of discomfort. He was not finely attuned to every aspect of embracing pain yet, but given time, he was sure he would be.
In truth, Khalee had been a little lax because he could not help it. His father had finally requested that they meet, and not only that, his grandfather too. The great warmaster Czulkang Lah.
His every scar tingled with excitement. He had waited for this chance since learning of his heritage in the creche!
As this was not a request, but an order, Khalee Lah merely gave a salute of acknowledgment, thumping both fists to opposite shoulders before allowing the subaltern to go about their business.
'The chance I have been waiting for' He repeated to himself, 'to finally start to tread the same path the great warriors themselves have walked.'
And he was determined not to waste it.
TBC- Next week.
Help us improve The World of Star Wars.
And a shamed one? Selling yourself short aren't you? ;)