Big things start with small beginnings. (Gravensen)

[Subject: Gyossait]

Gyossait watched the weapons emerge from the floor, the lightsabers themselves catching his eye. For a brief moment, a wave of memory hit him. Scenes of red flurries and dancing lights flashed throughout his mind like signs guiding him into what would come natural. His vision then became clear and he approached the very tools of said Obsidian Knights, reaching his right hand out with some anticipation as he grasped the hilt of the cold, metallic lightsaber. Upon igniting the weapon, the awakening hum and vibration of the piece resonated with the clone's body. He eyed the blade itself up and down before suddenly twirling it with elegant skill as some of the dormant experience from within the recesses of his mind came forth.

He then looked to Gravesen and began to take the stance of what appeared to be akin to Djem-So but a few degrees off in how he held the weapon. His eyes twinkled with a readiness, studying his opponent. It would seem that much of the calculation from the original mind had crossed over, making Gyossait that much more dangerous. For now he watched and waited, taking in the low hum of the lightsaber as a therapeutic muse to embrace the coming fight.

[member="Gravesen Conclave"]

 

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Gravesen let his thumb slide over the ignition. The ebony hilt hummed vibrantly as it came to life. A blade of vibrant emerald was birthed from it. The blade itself was a little over a meter in length, longer than the standard lightsaber to be sure. Gravesen took the blade in both hands, and adjusted it into something between Shii-cho and Niman. Both were recognized as basic forms, but could be honed to be extremely deadly by a master of the arts. Gravesen's own skill in that prospect was kept private.

The Rattataki's lips pursed in the slightest ghost of a smile. He eyed his friend, and now opponent with an observatory glance. He recognized Djem-so; he was a practitioner. His feet came into a triangle with his body in order to account for the expected added weight from Gyossait's strikes.

"Djem-so is brutal. It relies on strength to overcome your adversary. The Jedi who practice it have to be fully in tune with themselves to avoid the dark side from taking hold with its use. It's very, very effective against another force user." Gravesen slowly strode forward. His blade was pointed outward to block any oncoming attacks. "Your predeccesor created his own variant of it, from what I hear. He wasn't someone to mess around with. Then again, neither are you."

As he spoke, the distance had been closed. It was a distractory tactic; typical of the Sith and those Jedi that practiced the art of Niman. His blade flicked across in an arc for Gyossait's midiff. It was powered down only to sting, but he would certainly notice if it hit. The strike held a bit of power behind it; the blade long and awkward to parry.

Clearly, Gravesen was practiced.

[member="Subject: Gyossait"]

 

[Subject: Gyossait]

Gyossait needed to react quickly, and his opponent seemed to be taking advantage of the situation by exploiting the space of the room. The lengthy blade of the dual-phase was not something to be taken lightly, and even harder to defend against since this was the clone's first time being pitted against a seasoned practitioner of styles he wasn't quite familiar with. The clone attempted to dodge by pushing his back against the wall, trying to void the mere inches of the elongated blade.

Now was the chance to retaliate, and with a quickness. Gyossait dashed to Gravesen's side in a half-crouch with his lightsaber held out to the side, eyeing his opponent down. After a brief few seconds of intense staring, he launched forward and went in for a heavy overhead slash. The aggression was beginning to show within the young man's eyes, a fury known by those who had met the infamous Zius. The similarities were beginning to show as distinct personality traits broke through in the midst of the duel. The true nature of a warrior's heart beating with the pure blood of a partial soul.

Nothing would stop Gyossait from rising up to be the one to rid the galaxy of the one who wore his identity. The intruder must be brought to light at any and all costs, and this was only the beginning.

[member="Gravesen Conclave"]

 

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Gravesen gave an amused huff as Gyossait avoided his strike. He even gave the slightest look of surprise as his opponent sprung up with an overhead swing. Gravesen brought his blade up at an angle to catch Gyossait's strike along the middle of his blade. The two emerald lights flickered and burned against each other; neither admitting defeat to the other. The force of the impact jarred Gravesen's arms and sent vibrations down to his legs, but he retained the hold.

The momentary lock gave Gravesen a moment of pause. He thrust out his right leg at Gyossait's midriff, trying to force him stumbling back and gain the upper hand. It was an unorthodox move, then again, Gravesen's style was the definition of unorthodox.

"Release your anger, and crush me, or calm your mind and disarm me." Gravesen instructed as his foot would rise to Gyossait's gut. "The path is yours to choose."

[member="Subject: Gyossait"]

 

[Subject: Gyossait]

"Release your anger, and crush me, or calm your mind and disarm me." Impact. Gyossait felt the force of the kick dig into his gut and he fell backward, stumbling as he clenched his stomach because of the aching pain Gravesen's heel had inflicted. "The path is yours to choose." Anger is what brought the downfall of the one named Zius, but was it safe to say that his clone was to be one and the same? He took a moment to look down at the emerald glow of his lightsaber, gripping it tightly within his right hand as he averted his gaze back to his competition. The nature of the dual-phase seemed to be one of overwhelming the target, confusing them with the adjustment of lengths and often times to throw off the unsuspecting victim. He would need to turn that to his favor somehow.

Gyossait charged in once again, attempting to duck under the blade's probable reach as well as bracing against it with his own blade. The plan was to buy himself time to knock the hilt free from Gravesen's hand and then apprehend him by using a take-down method. If successful, said take-down would consist of swiping at the man's feet and holding his own lightsaber over him to show that he was capable of controlling the rage within and shaping it into a tool instead of letting it take over.

A hero's will is one of mercy and steadiness. Gyossait would not become the monster that preys on the weak for personal gain, not a murderer that claims victory by slaughtering innocents in the name of glorified, sadist cause.

He would become what should have been.

[member="Gravesen Conclave"]

 

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Gravesen's blade met Gyossait's in the same defensive blaze it had given off before. The vibrant emerald beams clashed and screamed as energy fluctuated from each end. Gravesen grit his teeth in concentration as his muscles strained to match Gyossait's movements. The clone would have disarmed the Rattataki, had Gravesen not employed the use of telekinesis to force a meter of space between the duo.

It was a clumsy, desperate move, and one often put to use with Nima.

"Retraint then. I can understand that." He stated confidently. The lightsaber was held forward in both hands, ready to defend against further assault.

[member="Subject: Gyossait"]

 

[Subject: Gyossait]

The blast was enough to send Gyossait into a wall, his backside making a loud thud as he fell to his hands and knees biting his teeth together in pain from the impact. He looked up at Gravesen with a furrowed brow and saw how he was unsteady from the previous attempt, good. This means he was beginning to break, but underestimating the opponent is by all means a fault in thinking. Suddenly, another wave of memories washed over him. Flashes of debris and obstacles being cast by the mere wave of a hand, bodies being flung far distances by a significant "push". The clone regained his composure and continued to eye his friend and rival.

Push...

Gyossait burst into another charge with his left hand arching back and being thrust forward. A light blue wisp expelled from his palm as a ripple seemed to shake the very air and particles around him, attempting to send Gravesen into the wall just as he had done to him.

[member="Gravesen Conclave"]

 

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Gravesen hadn't had enough time to react. One moment, he was standing ready to hold a defense against another barrage of saber strikes. the next, an invisible ball of energy itself was sailing through the air. He brought his right hand up to void the blow, but to no avail. His skill in Tutaminis was lackluster, at the very best. The ball hit him like a wrreecckkkiinggg ballllll and sent him stumbling back into the wall. The impact jarred his bones and sent a shock of pain from his head down to his arms. Everything drew into visceral clarity for a moment, and in his pain, Gravesen found focus.

The Rattataki pushed up to his feet. His body ached, for Gyossaits' force push had far outclassed his own, but he continued onward. His blade was wrapped tight in one hand. His jaw was set, and his lips were drown back in a frown.

It wasn't disapproval. It was acknowledgement of a challenge.

Halfway across the room, Gravesen broke into a run. His lips parted as a battle cry rattled from the back of his throat, animalistic and yet, focused. The emerald blade rose high in its arc, and came down in a powerful cleave toward Gyossait's shoulder. If the blade had been fully powered, the intention wold have been to rend him from shoulder to hip. His left hand shot out forward, and the slightest use of telekinesis would try to make the lightsaber in Gyossait's hand spin against his palm and break his balance.

The true contest had begun.

[member="Subject: Gyossait"]

 

[Subject: Gyossait]

Now the fun was beginning. Gyossait took a step forward and picked his own blade up to block Gravesen's downward cleave; however, he would not have time to brace himself from the oncoming thrust of the Force. He could feel his back hit the wall once again, and now was the time to lash out. Gyossait picked himself up once more and began to lash at the Rattataki with heavy blows, attempting to break his guard by sheer destructive force. He would try to reassure this strategy by keeping his footing solid and persistent, stepping forward to strengthen the blows and to overwhelm his target.

Each hiss and snarl of the coursing energy of either blade would be more than enough to heighten the excitement of battle. Every collision being the toll of a bell that signals the closing of a kill, or in this case, defeat. As the intensity would surely go on, the thrill of swinging a lightsaber was enough to bring out the same fighting spirit that Zius Tal'Verda once possessed.

The only troubling query was... what if he was to become like the one who had failed before him?

[member="Gravesen Conclave"]

 

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Gravesen matched Gyossait blow for blow. The clone was clearly the physical better here. Each blow sent jarring vibrations up Gravesen's arms and shook the vestiges of energy from his battered body. The emerald blades clashed and sent sparks shimmering over the durasteel floor. Still, the Rattataki did not relent.

With his previous use of Djem-so resulting in a destructive counter-attack, Gravesen employed his knowledge of Niman. He puled his blade closer to his chest, and met Gyossait's strikes across the middle of the weapon. His footing shifted to lean his body forward, and Gravesen found himself able to stand against Gyossait's focus. The outrage he had given at being hurled against the wall was replaced with a calm clarity; a focus to succeed. His mind focused on the absolutism of the setting.

Move forward, uppercut, parry, strike; repeat. It was the constant motion of the blades. The straining of the limbs. The heavy breath of each combatant as they poured their very hearts into the duel. The Rattataki brought his blade up in a cross counter in hopes of catching Gyossait's weapon, and slamming a palm into his upper chest to send him stumbling back.

"You're losing your focus, Gyossait."

[member="Subject: Gyossait"]

 

[Subject: Gyossait]

As the steady hammer-fall of strikes continued, Gyossait noticed that it wasn't having much success at disarming or causing Gravesen to falter. Just as his blade was to meet with Gravesen's, time seemed to slow for a split second. His gaze caught the palm that was being sent towards his chest and he attempted to counter with his own free hand, trying to grab his arm at the right moment to throw it aside in order to make room for a retaliating kick intended to land square into the Rattataki's gut.

The wages of good and evil were still fluctuating within Gyossait's mind, and learning to control the aggression he was already feeling was a calling sign of the torn soul that waned with imbalance. The darkness in-between was a maw that roared and gnashed for the innocence that hung by a thread, just waiting for the moment it would snap so it may consume without even a second thought.

"You're losing your focus, Gyossait."

Much more could become lost if a sense of balance was not found. But only the future will foretell such outcomes.


[member="Gravesen Conclave"]

 

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The blunder would be Gravesen's undoing. He stepped to far forward. Extended his arm to far to send Gyossait stumbling off in a confused hobble. He had failed. He gave a surprised grunt as his arm was grabbed, and blinked in confusion as the kick was slammed into his gut. He stumbled back two paces as all the air left in his lungs was forced out from the pressure behind the kick.

His right hand held the lightsaber tightly in a defensive form; the left held to his stomach as the beginning of a bruise was no doubt starting to form. Then, his blade was doused, and a slight smile graced his lips.

"You've certainly got the fighting spirit, Gyossait; I'll give you that much. It'll be useful on Ilum--oh, that's where we're going by the way, after I'm done with Naboo." He stated between each heavy breath. "You should keep practicing. Figure out what suits you best."

[member="Subject: Gyossait"]

 

[Subject: Gyossait]

Gyossait lowered his guard and smiled back to his friend with a profound confidence. His first victory felt good, and not only because he managed to best his new-found friend without any training piror, but because he did the opposite of what his predecessor chose to follow. This path of his was not one to sate any revenge, for there was no anger to relish with a passion. Without this passion there was a clarity above all else that allowed him to focus, and his focus was vital. He doused his own blade and returned it back to its proper holding place, heading toward the room's exit before turning back to Gravesen to give his feedback on this Ilum place he spoke of.

"Ilum?"

His voice sounded with an inflection, followed by an arched eyebrow. Where this was, it sounded as if it were to come up soon. As for understanding weaponry, Gyossait had already likened himself to the feel of a lightsaber; however, other things might be just as suitable for his disposal given whom he was cloned from.

[member="Gravesen Conclave"]