Exovaryn Haruke: Encountering Occult Mastery

The journey through Alteros and stolen crowns taken up from his travels alloted the Harukean the option to invest in a new guise. No longer was he exposed to the elements of the toxic Deadland Marsh. The miasma oozing from the sodden earth no longer tested the raw skin, lacking concealment in the shape of any steel nor cloth until now. An iron chestplate encompassed the teenager's abdomen, shrouded by an embroidered mantaeu, hanging off of one's shoulders.

A hood finished the new facade, cloaking his visage from view, especially with such granted distance. The sound of another's approach, though oblivious to their identity, earned a swivel in their direction from Voss himself. Not a word went uttered from his lips, succumb to the same silence he condoned to throughout his journey to this scene, simply watching newcomers regardless of status and facade.
(Exovaryn "Voss" Haruke)

A man woudl walk through the deadland marshes, his form covered by cloak and helmet. They traveled alone, likely believing they could take care of themselves or something of the sort... But that was to be expected based on what radiated from him. Depravity rolled off his body in thick waves, threatening to drown out the world arround him, as if it were some sort of evil abyss.

The figure's face was completely unseen, but what could be made out was likely the choice of weapon on his back. A scythe that gave off as much wrongness as its master, and had cirmson liquid frequently moving up and down it. He looked like something out of a nightmare, as if he were pretending to be the grim reaper themselves perhaps. And it was this cloaked man that glanced around, looking for small caravans.. It was nearing feeding time after all.
(Savant Malpercius)

Depravity's radiance from the Harukean clashed with the Malpercian's own, albeit proved bested in contest with the formiddible confrontation. Dread engulfed Voss, reaking of the chorus that of riddled with Sin.

It was the satisfaction spawned in repliance to the suffering of other- It was the joyous embrace to the torturous ensnarement of their prey that manifested this essence. Such presence overencumbered the Harukean adolescent, leaving him frozen in place, disturbed by a power vastly superior to his own, and far more corrupted.

Though, even when unarmed and easily ill-prepared he failed to back down, standing as defiant as he did prior. Finally, he spoke out towardw Savant with a tone as devoid as the dreadful, plagued to wander the lands in agony. "...You know pain, do you not?" He asked solemnly, "Do you know loss, as I do?" He continued, growing a tingling sensation that conquered his vessel from the core and built for the extremeties beyond.

"Do you understand the Darkness?" He queried, finally realizing the emotion that took hold of him, finally unearthing its nature with his shuddering: Fear. Soon enough, it terraformed his voice, quivering as he continued onward, hardly cracking as he continued onward, crippled of his dire perspective.
"...We are Cultists of the Ebonical Art... Are we not united where we stand?"
(Exovaryn "Voss" Haruke)

The lavender haired man could feel it. The presence of another one who someho did wrong to the lifestream. His own crime was his birth, his bliss, and now his attempts to revive human life. As such he must have been the more derpaved of the two, though that did not cause a fade in his wonder as to what wrongs the other did. But were these wrongs also not somewhat meant to be?

The figure would turn their head, staring at the hooded indivisual, a loud breathing heard from under the confines of the Exa helm as their vision fully grasped at what was the other male. They were curious, and yet they froze in fear of his own power.. This caused a grin, pride building up once again within the Malpercian's mind. And then the other spoke.

The figure would respond with words that hinted how monsterous he truely was. It was not a single voice, but one obscured by the moans and groans of souls who still resisted him only a little. And yet at the same time there were voices that spoke in unision, like a legion as opposed to a single man.

"I am indeed one who knows pain. I also know loss and hate. My lips embrace passion and I gaze into the dark with comprehension.

Indeed we are those chosen for the arts of the occult. And in the darkness we stand together, united by our powers and aspirations."
(Savant Malpercius)

 Fears were calmed, only but so slightly... He could breath with the benefit of the doubt that he would meet his end to a superior occultic force. Though, he felt slightly safer, one could not outright dismiss the risk. He was standing againt a force in which he didn't entirely understand. Even as he stood before such a potent figure, he couldn't help but grow anxious, to grow... Curious of one's might.

He wanted to test it out for his himself, to get a thrill out of the combat that could entail. He was told that sparring allowed him to grow stronger to kill his enemies, thus a partner of such potency could prove more than capable to grant him an ideal perspective of what a true enemy appears like.
Lips tremored but failed to birth words, for he lacked the language most suitable for the occasion. He'd rather, freeze, without a word to purchase further attention nor sway one's opinion from his stammering form.

Though, it was not eternal-
"...Yes, united... You know of the troubles and pains, people like -us- must face... You understand the pain that plagues us all... Yet, now as I stand before you, could I bring one to understand my urge to fathom what capability one could muster within combat. I- I... I wish to for-go true comprehension... I want to join the league of true masters, members of true adept-ness to the artistry... I want to wield it, as members such as you do." He managed to speak out, violently shuddering throughout the attempt to speak, all beneath his mantaeu. The hood had shaken off, revealing his visage and facial features...

He was no longer ambigious to this entity, but Savant was very much a mystery to him...

(Exovaryn "Voss" Haruke)

The lavender hues would stare at the man in front of him, listening to their words with upmost comprehension. They did not leave the man, as if memorizing his face should he ever need to recall it, and yet they felt no need to be afraid. They with both occultists, and the more depraved man could clearly believe he was the stronger of the two. He was quite a force of nature by now after all, a juggernaut of his art.

And the youth would seem to want to fight. The more depraved man would reach up, touching the side of his helmet. A metalic grinding would be heard as the bottom part of it would slide down, revealing half a pale face, the lower nose and mouth. Thick lavender locks would come down around them but the mouth would quickly twist into a corrupt and curious grin.

"You wish to do battle against a master of occultism. That much can be arranged. I understand many pains and many troubles, mostly over large amounts of people.. However to understand an indivisual you must become one, either in form or battle. To this end, I will honor you with a spar, and see how close you are to joining occultism mastery.

Show me your ambitions. Perform to me the song of your soul and the song of battle, and in return I shall perform my own to you. Shall we dance?"
(Savant Malpercius)

The Malpercian accepted his challenged as far as Exovaryn was concerned, which left the Harukean antsy. Never had he experienced such the concoction of fear and anxiousness-- He was eager to bare witness to one's potential, yet feared what one was capable of. It did not alter the final result, regardless.
"Yes." He answered, "Yes, let us..." He answered, slowly sliding his right leg into position, fortifying a stance adequete for a charge for his opponent. He said not a word further, rather succumbing to the analytical silence one needed to hone focus on the Marsh-made battleground.

There was a sad attempt of a grin stretched across his visage, portraying one's nervousness quite clearly. There was no helm to hide behind, and with his hood having fell to his back, there was no further use hiding behind it's cloak any longer. What one could do was inspect the details of his opponent's appearance, gear and allow the mind to flutter about the many possibilities that the Occult Arcane could expand outward for...

The limitations were seemingly endless for the Harukean whom knew not what to expect, yet awaited as though it were his final moments..
There was no solace, only anticipation.
"It's time to see how I measure up to the real thing!" He exclaimed, a burst of energies emitted from his personage, swathing him in the ethernal flicker that was the Occultistic miasma.
(Exovaryn "Voss" Haruke)

The man would lavender locks would close the slit on his helmet, focusing his eyes upon the face of the boy ahead of him. They got in a position, looking quite stable and the figure would give them a nod. Then they would outstreach their own arms, feeling occultism well up within their form, spilling out of them now. But it was more then a simple occult aura perhaps, for the moans and groans of spirits oft would come to light aorund him, swarming and surrounding.

An imperfect human aura so far, but the full thing would require more training. Still, it was much nicer then he was used to and he could feel the support of the souls, pushing him forwards into battle as he would grab the scythe off his back.. Then he lowered it to his hand, slicing open pale skin to let fresh blood fester onto the steel. The scythe seemed to be awakening as well.

"Let us dance."
(Savant Malpercius)

Well, the boy was talented in magic for his age. Savant would grin, feeling nothing slowing down his body and being able to instead focus on the cosmic energy that was put out by the white haired foe. Gravity would pull him off course every now and then, but the Malpercian truely seemed to know how to tear up a field, setting the ground alight and scorching it into ashes, only stopping short of perhaps injuring the younger occultist.

"Not bad.. A bit to learn but definately not bad. Can you still last another round and bear fowards more of your soul? I am interested in seeing the will behind your ambitions. Bare to me your full power."

The man would say, the souls around him continuing to cover his aura as his lavender eyes pierced through Exovaryn's occultic power.
(Savant Malpercius)

Full power was something he couldn't unlock alone...
He'd need the aid of others within proximity, and considering he was battling Savant alone, that was not an option. He had to ride it out with strategy and tenacity. There had to be a flaw in one's combative paradigm and regimen. There had to be an opening he could exploit to his advantage...
"I don't intend on holding anything back!" He spoke up, whilst recovering from his damages, rising up to his feet with mild sway in his step.

"I'm not done yet..." He was panting heavily, having come across his first true challenge in years. Not once had he come across an opponent he could not best in combat until now, and rather than leave him shuddering in fear and taking flight, it left him excited! There was never a time prior in which he wished for naught else, aside from the opportunity to relish himself in the bloodlust that was combat. This was finally a release for the combatant within-- It was Harukean nature; Aggression was the typical means of progress, and with such came a bliss to the teenager.

"I'm far from done..."
(Exovaryn "Voss" Haruke)

A grin appeared on the man's face as the lower portion of his helmet slid down after knocking down the younger occultist. They had won yet again because a weakness was not likely seen in his strategy.. He didn't really have one. The man's plan was entirely walking up to a foe and knocking them down with blasts and waves. If they got away he woud hit them with small spheres of elements. If they tried to outlast him he would grab them and take their mana into his own. And if they did too much damage he would just steal it right back.

It was utterly terrifying. But what was likely more so would be the scythe that now pinned down the white haired man, as the elder occultit would look down at them, as if making a descion. "You did well kid. All things considered at least. Your magic can be quite damaging and although you didn't really keep me away from you it was still quite the fight. It was all comendable."

And with that the lavender haired man would reach down with his right arm.. and pat the boy on the head. Rather then drain his life, the boy had provided him with entertainment, and so Savant felt no need to gain this boy's soul. The occultism around him would lessen, turning instead into depravity as the scythe woudl be returned to his back.

"I shall see you around. But for now.. I must look for something to feed on."
(Savant Malpercius)

A battle in which he finally tested his capability against a full fledged Occultist, and the aftermath was all all predictable. Exovaryn didn't last a chance, but managed to mise few hits upon his opponent. It didn't make a difference to the Harukean in the end... He still lost, which gave him something to ponder about. Up until now, he had proven ignorant to a display of true occultic power. No longer was it a mystery to his person.

As ignorant as Voss was, he knew fair and well of the Malpercian's arm, and its capabilities. He knew that its clutch upon his cranium would spell the end of life and everything he had ever come to know thus far. It was petrifying... Yet, rather than cling to his vessel and siphon what lifeforce idled within his vessel, it only pat upon his head, mastered enough to -not- outright consume him beyond the weilder's control.

The magi was capable of differentiating a sparring partner from a meal, which left the Harukean to plummet for the muddy grasses, arms flayed out to his sides and body fatigued. One's heart raced, leaving the world to spin and sounds to mesh-- The five senses were thrown into disarray, only to result in unconsciousness. Severe exhaustion and fear had defeated the Harukean in the end, all thanks to the Malpercian pushing him to his limits and besting him, only to spare his life in the name of 'Entertainment'.

Savant's last words, echoed everlastingly through his mind as he drifted off into unconsciousness, where the common worries died off and the fantacized entitlements were assumed on a new plane of reality dominated by mentality.
(Exovaryn "Voss" Haruke)