First Reflections, End of the Mind-Eater Arc

For the first time in four thousand years, the deep groaning chant of Sith Priests echoed through the worked stone halls deep beneath the ground. The mountains above held aloft only by colums of granite, metal, and architectural brilliance. Not far from this place, the remains of an old imperial academy lay in ruins, forgotten. On the opposite side of the planet from the Capital City, the remains of a once great Sith Temple had been rediscovered. It's importance lost on the archaeologists that had first found it. The initial chambers leaving no obvious route to the true treasures inside save for those who could feel the touch of the dark side. Now the cavernous interior has been explored, its treasures reclaimed, and its halls cleansed of jealous spirits. Once more a bastion of darkness, once more a home of the Sith.

Yet not all was as it once was. Something warmed the air and made the skin feel slick, the shadows seemed thicker and writhed when you drew too close. Dark ichor dripped from the ceiling and the hooded figures that walked through the halls seemed to know exactly where to sidestep the sinisterly inauspicious traps. Braziers blazed with fire that seemed to draw in light rather than radiate it, the off-color flames sending chills down the spine. There were places of beauty, too, large frescos had been painstakingly restored and views of vast caverns of flowing water and complex greenery were illuminated with lamps to allow those who entered a chance to appreciate the vicious beauty of nature. Animals that had made their home in this place hunted one another while ignoring the sentient beings that came and gone. One could stand and watch as nature did it's bloody work. This place was steeped in life and in darkness, and at it's deepest point, one could find the Garden of Lies.

Unlike the dim light and eerie glow of the rest of the temple, the Garden of Lies was brilliantly lit and reminiscent of a temple garden at the Jedi Temple in Coruscant. The plantlife that grew here was still maintained millenia after its abandonment by ancient droids that cared nothing for who ruled this place, only that their work was uninterrupted. Natural beauty sprung up in greens and a rainbow of colors that were self contained along the paths that crisscrossed the garden. One could spend hours wandering the enormous garden and never see the same set of plants twice and if one wasn't careful, they would not come out alive. The natural beauty here was marked by death, every plant was either predatory or poisonous in some respect, living aspects of death. It was at the very center of this place that a solitary figure sat in deep meditation.

Wake Nayne wore the fitted robes of a Sith Priest, the cassock collar up to his neck. His dark fell down around his face and his emerald green eyes remained shut. His cheeks were hollow, it was unknown how long he'd been here. Around him were numerous artifacts, articles, books, scrolls, tools, weapons. Items from sith temples across the galaxy that he had found after his annointment into the order on Korriban and his harrowing on the Caldera. He had found the scrolls and books as well as the location of the very temple he sat in, thanks to Miri Nimdok. The ex-jedi had been tainted by the teachings of the foul order and her emotions had been repressed. He had freed her from her from it, giving her a second chance at life. Her reaction to the ritual had been amusing and now he wondered how she was doing. Was she getting strong? He hoped so.

He drank deep of the force and set aside the memories for a moment, reflecting on what he had learned instead. He had seen the true depths of the damage left behind by those abandoned by the Jedi. He had learned more about the intricacies and dangers of the Ritual of Reflection as he called it. He had felt new emotions and had seen dark truths that he hadn't seen before. He had come far since the day he had set out to stumble across the Sith, the day he had encountered Braze on that funny little world. The bright-eyed youth had shown so much promise. Wake hoped he was doing well, that he would become a Jedi as he so wished. He refuted their beliefs, but he would not begrudge the boy his dream-however sad it was. He thought about the other one he'd met that day, Matthew. The not-quite-a-Jedi, the Paladin, the man who had brought his condesention down upon not only Braze, but later upon Wake himself.

Wake took a deep breath and reflected on the force, on his emotions, his rage, his joy. He felt the full spectrum of his feelings and memories wash over him. He felt his guilt and shame, he felt his bliss and excitement, he felt his hate and fury, he drank deep, deeper, and let the dark side pass into him. The wound in his abdomen had grown over the past ten years and had continued to grow more rapidly as the dark side grew with him. The injury to his spirit felt like it had stretched across his waist now. As it grew, he felt stronger. He took another deep breath as condensed clouds of blackness marked with starlight drew into him in plumes. The chill in the air intensified and he began to recite the code again. "Peace is a lie, there is only passion," He intoned, remembering the first time he'd heard it from a Sith.

Alisteri Haxim, better known as Darth Strosius, had been the one to invite Wake into the fold. To name him Acolyte, and to instruct him in the basics of the order. It was through him that he was sent to Korriban to assist in the purging of the Ashlan. It was through him he met his second mentor. While Strosius had agreed to aid in Wake's understanding of the Lightsaber. It was Darth Caedes that had taken Wake in under his wing and given him more than just guidance. He had offered Wake power and authority. Wake had refused to be bound permanently to the man, but swore that his friendship would never go unpaid and unrewarded. He had promised to return when he was ready to take up a position and assist him until Wake was ready to move on to the next step. Wake would not go back on that promise. He was so close. "Through Passion, I gain strength,"

The minds that Wake had consumed over the course of his lifetime, especially the mountain of minds and essences that he had devoured on Korriban and in the Caldera, had finally processed. It had taken a great deal of time to build the strength to convert them into something useable. To parse through the information and suffuse it into his own mind. Knowledge that was his. He had never bothered to try to do it this way, but now even Master Abaas' knowledge was his to wield and his body was getting closer and closer every day to using it properly. He took another deep breath of the dark side, clenching his fists. Master Abaas... her mind had been strong enough to cling to him for some time. To haunt him. He'd used her rejection of him to give him strength while he found new sources of joy to maintain diversity in his spectrum. "Through Strength, I gain power,"

He wondered what life would be like, had the Jedi not destroyed her. He had accepted his role in her death, understood that as a youth he had no control over his powers. It wasn't his fault for what had happened. He still felt shame on occasion, but it was a healthier one now. No, the Jedi were at fault. For their ancient and misguided complacency and practice of brainwashing the young and turning them into mindless droids. He had seen so many suffer from it, even extensions of it in the case of the ex-ashlan; Aliris Tremiru who had become a remarkable student of his on occasion, coming to him for advice and using his teachings to grow stronger and gain control. He was proud of her. Then there was Corazona von Ascania , the silly little princess, she made him laugh but she had promise. He hoped what she'd gained from their encounter would guide her out of her personal hell. And the hot-tempered Capris Halcyon, the padawan who had come poking around where she didn't belong. Another one full of potential. Then there was the twerp, Peylin, who had amused him with her unique gifts. She had run away before he had given her the chance to learn more but he hoped he would meet her again someday. "Through Power, I gain victory,"

Then there were his peers, Kyraj and Zal Aditi, were fascinating people. Powerful in their own rights. He had seen their strengths and was awed by them. He wanted to learn more from them and soon he would when he returned to Caedes, a new Sith. A new man. Perhaps he needed a new name as well? His lip twisted as he thought of his enemies, some more dangerous than others. Matthew was at the top of the list. The paladin was relentless. But he had a special place in his heart set aside for Valery Noble and Kahlil Noble, the two great Jedi who had shown him just how far he was from his peak at the Caldera. Who had shown him true fear and true power when it came to the agents of the misbegotten light. Jedi. He took another breath and controlled his feelings. He had a close call with Elias Edo as well, another powerful Jedi. Then there was the knowledgeable and sincere Lila Doneeta whom he had parted ways with but he knew one day may be an enemy. His mind at last turned to his secret ally, Lirka Ka, who studied the true secrets of the depths with him. "Through Victory, My chains are broken," He exhaled and the temperature rose.

He looked up to the ceiling, his eyes finally opening and revealing the molten gold they had turned as the Dark Side continued to suffuse him. The red and yellow of traditional sith eyes melding together into something primal and horrible. His entire aura had become like the writhing once hidden behind his eyes. The threads of madness now coiled and wriggled around him even as he remained still in his sanity and growing wisdom. The depths of the contradictions caused the air to spark and pop as he drew in more power, strengthening himself before reaching out to the artifacts around him. Each one he grasped onto and began to consume what was inside, the information passing into his brain without resistance. The storage device containing studies on starship construction crumbled in his hand as he reflected on it. Yes. He understood now. "The force shall set me free."

One at a time he consumed the artifacts, filling in the gaps of his knowledge and consuming what he had collected since the beginning of his journey. He let the knowledge suffuse his mind, using the power of the dark side to smooth out the process, forcing the information to obey and bend until it fit where it needed to. As he did, more thoughts came to him, ideas, knowledge, impressions, considerations. He waved a hand and a notebook slapped open, filled with notes already he added to them, continuing his ongoing study of the force and the sith code. His thesis was drawing closer to completion, but he needed more time to think. Soon, though, very soon. He drew in another breath and reflected on his feelings, acknowledging them in turn as he considered the argument he had posed to Darth Strosius.

The Sith Code was a rejection of the Jedi Code. The 'peace' in 'Peace is a lie' was not the 'peace' that most Sith thought of. No. The very first line was a deception, as expected of the ancient Sith. He chuckled. The peace of the Jedi, their serenity, dispassion, and complacency, was a lie. The force was intended to be used, to better the galaxy and to bring it to order. It was not a rejection of kindness, of compassion, of feelings, of positive emotions. No, those emotions and capacities had a certain strength to them as well and his peers were fools to ignore them. He had learned that first hand. He had embraced his positive emotions and his explosive growth was proof of the power therin. He clenched his fists, Peace was a lie, Peace. The Jedi's peace had destroyed his childhood. Had destroyed Ibini Abaas. Their peace had been what triggered the first great schism! Their peace was what created the sith in the first place. Their peace had resulted in all the atrocities that they blame on others.


"I reject your peace," Wake murmured. Their peace was a lie, it was the source of his deepest emotions. Just like Bane in the past, his writings told that he had chosen his own name as a source of agony, as a reminder, as a way to fuel himself even by hearing his own name. No, Wake's peace, the Peace of the Sith, was one of a pure state of nature. Of embracing emotion, of living life, of feeling, of experiencing, of growing and nuturing existence. Of using the force to bring a genuine end to the mad conflicts that have scorched the galaxy for thousands of years. True Peace came as a result of becoming free. Wake hesitated, a chill running up his spine. "Through freedom, I see truth," Wake murmured, "The truth of peace. Nwul. A sith's peace. Peace in the self, security, strength, freedom, confidence. The goal is a different kind of peace," Wake murmured to himself, the notepad filling with more notes.

"I will represent that rejection," He whispered, running his thumb over the ring on his right hand. The Ring of Sorzus Syn, the woman who had written the sith code. "The meaning of your words hasn't been forgotten Dark Lady... I will call myself Nwul."

He said the name over again, each time he heard it he was reminded of the deep hatred for the Jedi and the joy of life. He let the feelings suffuse him as the memories and thoughts of his many victims were reigned in, becoming his own. He was in control, though he had yet to master the ability fully, he was drawing closer. He exhaled and allowed his power to condense and return to the crucible within him. He rose to his feet, the debris left behind by the destroyed artifacts and data storage devices scattered around his feet. He didn't look back at them as he strode out of the Garden, finding his daughters waiting at the door in silent reverence. Behind them, a hundred robed figures knelt. Not all of them were force sensitive, but they were all his cult. He glanced down at his daughters wordlessly.

"Father, we sensed your ascent and awakening. Congratulations on your achivement," Darya said quietly from his left.

"Father, we have studied the remaining scrolls from the temple where we met that woman," Yjome said, "There is a temple on a more secure world waiting for your presence. The world is called Tund. What you seek is probably there, and it is possible that there are still sorcerers there, waiting for your wisdom."

Nwul smiled at both of them, letting the emotion of approval wash over them in a deluge before he turned his attention to the congregation. "This temple has served its purpose, we return to Korriban in the morning. There I will reconvene with Darth Caedes. Afterwards, you will take your ships and begin preparing the way for my coming on Tund," Nwul said with a gesture. "Tell those that wait there that the Sith known as Nwul is coming."

"Yes, Master Nwul," The congregation said as one, "By the Will of the Dark Side."

"Another thing, Father," Yjome interrupted, drawing a look from him. She smiled, "Two jedi were captured studying these ruins."

They all looked up to him as silence fell. A pair of Jedi in brown robes were dragged out, both shoved to their knees. One of them, a man with short hair looked up at Nwul in confusion. His eyes widening; "Wake? Wake Nayne?" The Jedi blurted, "How are you on Lothal? Whatever your plan is, there are those in the order ready to stand in your way. Master Noble has made it clear that you will not disease this galaxy with your evil for long!"

The other jedi tried to silence his friend, "Wake, we have no desire for violence, we were studying these ruins, nothing more. We will go in peace if-"

Nwul's smile widened and a predatory gleam blossomed in his eyes, he began to descend the stairs, "I wonder what exactly Master Noble has in mind for me, do you know?" Nwul asked with a tilt of his head, like a cat looking at a mouse. He raised his hands up as if he were a doctor, white mist forming around them, "Wait wait, don't tell me, I'll find out myself..."