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26-09-2026, 05:20 PM
(This post was last modified: 07-10-2026, 10:24 AM by Rhysand Kalkoran.)
Entry II: A Long-Awaited Update
Stepping into the flickering light of the holoprojector, the old recording—several months old by now—showed Rhysand in a long black robe, a heavy cowl over his head, hiding black hair and an altered face. The Apprentice had aged since the diary was last updated, and this recording was months old already. New bone spurs and ridges decorated his handsome facial features, and as he removed his gloves, lines of black ink marked his hands, the evidence of tattoos that shone pale in the glowing light of the holoprojector. There is no smile on his face now; rather, a harsh, neutral expression that seems more inclined to scowls.
“Too long. Far too long. Much has changed since I last updated this: == journal of mine. First and foremost, no longer do I serve Lord Andnoa, but rather Darth Kalkoran as his sole Apprentice. After the Anx Minor Campaign, the Conservancy was remade as the Pentarchy, with five seats for five Lords. Designed by the Dark Lord and Her Hand, Darth Kalkoran, who became a Dark Lord of the Sith following a great summit of the Northern Territories wherein Apprentice Krassus and I played some small role.
“Five Sith Lords lead five Spheres: originally, Lord Hazlem of Doctrine; Lord Kelsa of Advancement; Lord Saltaeon of War; Lord Iezkon of Insight; and Lord Sarias of Advancement. Five Household Sith stand as their shatajirs—their heirs. Several Sith have come and gone, and few have left their marks. Many have claimed the Lordship of Doctrine: Zevasa, Hazlem, Tiwura, Zynn, Vi’kas, and now Lord Tutki. We shall see if this game of thrones continues."
The Apprentice rolled his shoulders, the gesture easing tension in his body. “I serve as Darth Kalkoran’s sole Apprentice, co-Apprentice under Darth Horuset herself—and now the sole Apprentice remaining. Krassus became Lord Atas, and together we form the Silver Sun, the political union of Horuset and Sekker, though I fear he no longer sees us as equals—not that we ever were. He may hold political primacy, yet it is my material wealth and power this sphere is built on. Others serve within it: Seranâus Horuset, the Neophyte, and she who calls herself Tarimra. I will challenge her tomorrow, and claim the title of Sith of the Household of Darth Horuset. Afterwards… Well, we shall see.
“My Master and I spoke of betrothals; of adoptions and heirs. I am betrothed to Yallanda Kalkoran, his daughter, and upon our wedding, I shall take the name of Kalkoran for my own. It is strange: since Sith Zevasa named me Apprentice Sekker, I have clung to that title. It was who I was, yet… Sith Zevasa is dead, Amanda is lost to me, and House Sekker is a husk. Is it worth clinging to such a shell, I wonder? Or should I leave it to Lord Kitsana Seq’kar? I loathe giving in to defeat, yet… I find that I do not care.
“Perhaps House Kalkoran is the wiser choice, the safer future. I will have a wife, and with this union, I will become heir to the greatest bloodline beside that of Horuset itself. Zarkang cannot stop me, and Yallanda will not stop me if I tell her to. I wonder if Darth Kalkoran felt it, my affection for her, and if that impacted his decisions. It seems unlikely. Rhysand Sovern Kalkoran. It is something to get used to…”
The figure of Apprentice Sekker faded as he stared at the camera with sharp copper-gold eyes, rendered pale blue by the holoprojector. The threat of a smile lingered on his lips, and it was terrible to behold.
Stepping into the flickering light of the holoprojector, the old recording—several months old by now—showed Rhysand in a long black robe, a heavy cowl over his head, hiding black hair and an altered face. The Apprentice had aged since the diary was last updated, and this recording was months old already. New bone spurs and ridges decorated his handsome facial features, and as he removed his gloves, lines of black ink marked his hands, the evidence of tattoos that shone pale in the glowing light of the holoprojector. There is no smile on his face now; rather, a harsh, neutral expression that seems more inclined to scowls.
“Too long. Far too long. Much has changed since I last updated this: == journal of mine. First and foremost, no longer do I serve Lord Andnoa, but rather Darth Kalkoran as his sole Apprentice. After the Anx Minor Campaign, the Conservancy was remade as the Pentarchy, with five seats for five Lords. Designed by the Dark Lord and Her Hand, Darth Kalkoran, who became a Dark Lord of the Sith following a great summit of the Northern Territories wherein Apprentice Krassus and I played some small role.
“Five Sith Lords lead five Spheres: originally, Lord Hazlem of Doctrine; Lord Kelsa of Advancement; Lord Saltaeon of War; Lord Iezkon of Insight; and Lord Sarias of Advancement. Five Household Sith stand as their shatajirs—their heirs. Several Sith have come and gone, and few have left their marks. Many have claimed the Lordship of Doctrine: Zevasa, Hazlem, Tiwura, Zynn, Vi’kas, and now Lord Tutki. We shall see if this game of thrones continues."
The Apprentice rolled his shoulders, the gesture easing tension in his body. “I serve as Darth Kalkoran’s sole Apprentice, co-Apprentice under Darth Horuset herself—and now the sole Apprentice remaining. Krassus became Lord Atas, and together we form the Silver Sun, the political union of Horuset and Sekker, though I fear he no longer sees us as equals—not that we ever were. He may hold political primacy, yet it is my material wealth and power this sphere is built on. Others serve within it: Seranâus Horuset, the Neophyte, and she who calls herself Tarimra. I will challenge her tomorrow, and claim the title of Sith of the Household of Darth Horuset. Afterwards… Well, we shall see.
“My Master and I spoke of betrothals; of adoptions and heirs. I am betrothed to Yallanda Kalkoran, his daughter, and upon our wedding, I shall take the name of Kalkoran for my own. It is strange: since Sith Zevasa named me Apprentice Sekker, I have clung to that title. It was who I was, yet… Sith Zevasa is dead, Amanda is lost to me, and House Sekker is a husk. Is it worth clinging to such a shell, I wonder? Or should I leave it to Lord Kitsana Seq’kar? I loathe giving in to defeat, yet… I find that I do not care.
“Perhaps House Kalkoran is the wiser choice, the safer future. I will have a wife, and with this union, I will become heir to the greatest bloodline beside that of Horuset itself. Zarkang cannot stop me, and Yallanda will not stop me if I tell her to. I wonder if Darth Kalkoran felt it, my affection for her, and if that impacted his decisions. It seems unlikely. Rhysand Sovern Kalkoran. It is something to get used to…”
The figure of Apprentice Sekker faded as he stared at the camera with sharp copper-gold eyes, rendered pale blue by the holoprojector. The threat of a smile lingered on his lips, and it was terrible to behold.
