Finesse. Artfulness. Economy…

[Darth Timoris]

A vast lake surrounded the Academy — the Academy she’d built when the One Sith took Tython.

The steps to cross it were sunk just below the surface, forcing each visitor to look down to assure firm footing. It added to the sense of reverence, as each visitor was effectively bowing as they approached.

Every visitor had to make the same journey. Melori was already here, up the large double staircase and in the one room that was effectively three floors crashed into one. It was perfect for duelling — given that was its purpose. There were all sorts of ledges, mezzanines and props to aid fighting.

But today promised to be more of a lesson than a fight. A new Acolyte — she’d yet to find out if she had been taken by a Master. Who fancied herself as a user of the second Form. It was the first Melori had learned as a Sith. At the hand of one of the Order’s most successful assassins. She still had the scars to show from the lesson.

So she stood in her standard black robes — she eschewed armour. Her blond head bowed as she meditated. Her baby blue eyes closed as she waited for the newcomer to arrive. She’d sense her in good time. So for now she simply relaxed and waited. For patience was finally one of her virtues.

[member="Kaela Jaryn"]

 

[Kaela Jaryn]

[member="Darth Timoris"]

Tython. The vile stench of the lightside still permeated its air, promising a life of hopeless optimism, servitude and an endless waste of potential. Of all the planets in the Galaxy, she couldn't for the life of her figure out why this had been chosen as the site for an academy, other than rubbing salt in the wounds of the Jedi. Truthfully she'd rather see the planet and all its hidden relics annexed as a true testament to the power of the Sith.

And what kind of a pathway was this? Half submerged, and more likely to cause embarrassment than disfigurement. Sith deserved better things. Still, she made her way cautiously if not swiftly along the lakeside path, picking her course out along the less obvious routes to avoid any potential traps set by the Sith for less aware visitors, and thanking her waterproof boots all the while. It was hard going to say the least, but the path to power was never easy. Not if it was true power anyway...

 

[Darth Timoris]

She sensed the woman approaching. She knew little of her, other than her desire to learn Makashi. She opened her eyes and glanced at the training sabers laying on the table beside her. A few had curved handles. Most proponents of the second Form favoured the style - Melori herself did. In fact she had two, that could be connected to create a saberstaff.

But for now she toyed with the training aids and finding one that felt well balanced to her, clipped it to her belt before looking up. The Acolyte was at the top of the stairs now and in sight.

The room was impressive. Like the rest of the building, and even the lake, modelled after an ancient Sith temple. But Melori was a traditionalist and enjoyed the ambience.

As the young woman closed the gap between them, Melori stared at her, looking her up and down, weighing her. She did not believe in killing for the sake of it, but nor did she believe in keeping Acolytes alive for the sake of it. If they were worthy, they lived. If not, they would die. It was, as with many things in Melori's life, very simple.

"I am Darth Timoris," she said, her baby blues and blonde hair belying her status. "Timoris means the owner of fear. It is...my ally. Never, ever forget that."

Her eyes remained on the Acolyte. "Tell me your name and your experience with a saber - and with Makashi in particular."

[member="Kaela Jaryn"]

 

[Kaela Jaryn]

[member="Darth Timoris"]

Kaela had to give it to the Sith - they knew how to make imposing architecture. While from the outside the academy had seemed no more imposing than the smattering of minor temples she had visited between her more active times of training, the inside was much different. She could feel it before she entered, a power unspoken. A shiver of static trickled down her spine and she was sure she could smell a little ozone in the air, as if the academy was the quiet dryness before a thunderstorm. No doubt this was in part due to the Sith lord that addressing her. Compared to Kaela's figure hugging synthleather jumpsuit she was every part the Sith of lore - the black robes, the way she stood. Indeed even the tone of her voice suggested that this woman was powerful, and certainly more so than Kaela. For now.

She didn't dare the thought, lest it betray her aspirations to her better, yet it was there none the less.

"Darth Timoris... It is a pleasure, my lord." She said in a calm yet measured tone. Her Adumari accent creeping through in a more regal tone than perhaps she might have liked. "I am Kaela Jaryn, but I am sure you already know this." Kaela inclined her head in greeting, and didn't need to add her thanks or deference to the Darth, for her body language was open, yet formal. And most certainly she kept a respectful blade-and-a-half length of distance away from her - although this was partly out of caution. Sith Lords were, after all, notoriously deadly. Especially for acolytes.

"At the risk of sounding too forwards, my leige, would it not be more appropriate to display my knowledge with actions, rather than words? I have seen many of my peers talk greatly only to find themselves lacking in the ability to back their words up - and I am certain that if you find me lacking, I will pay a price most costly."

While her words were most certainly formal, and while theyverged upon second guessing the Lord, it seemed to Kaela to be a much wiser course of action to attempt to get straight to the point, pardoning of course the dreadful pun. After all, if she was deemed too weak for the purpose that Timoris had brought here here for she would most likely be put to death anyway. It was the Sith way, after all, and Kaela intended to embrace it until her end.

 

[Darth Timoris]

Melori listened. It was a fine line between respect and fawning. One that Melori herself never came close to. Her arrogance had never allowed her to. She never bowed to another — save the Dark Lord himself.

To display her prowess and knowledge was either a very bold or foolish move. Again, Melori was unsure which side of the line the young woman stood. So once the Acolyte was equipped with a saber, Melori continued.

And she nodded her agreement to the proposal and allows her cloak to fall to the floor from her shoulders. As soon as it hit the stone, she started to circle the Acolyte, talking all the while. As a rule she was silent in combat, but now she needed to test and probe. Silence gave the pupil the chance to focus on one thing, and one thing only.

“What makes you worthy? Why will you become a Sith?” she said as she walked lightly, her heavy boots making no noise on the stone floor.

With that, she unclipped the curved hilt from the belt and ignited the training saber with a press of a button and a characteristic snap-hiss of superheated plasma springing to life that followed, its crimson light illuminating her figure.

She brought the blade up vertically in front of her face, red light radiating from the lightsaber making his eyes appear to glow in the same colour as the weapon, before swinging down in Makashi flourish and performing a Makashi salute, illuminating the floor now as she pointed the tip of the blade down alongside her body.

As she pulled the Force to her, her pupils morphed yellow and the merest hint of crimson circled them. “Makashi. Out of all seven forms of lightsaber combat, Makashi is the one most focused on lightsaber duels.” Taking a few steps away she gained some space and pointed the blade in her left hand at her, the tip aiming at the woman’s chest. “As you can see, unlike the other forms, Makashi is mostly one handed style. I can easily close the space between us very quickly by simply placing one leg in front of another in long strides. This is important, as Makashi focuses on finding the right moment to attack, unlike the other Forms that are full of senseless swinging.”

With no warning, Melori danced forward and her saber was fully extended in a stabbing move meant to lovingly sign the girl’s weapon hand, immediately followed by the Sith Lord retracting her arm again before doing the same jab, though this one meant for the girl’s right thigh, hoping to catch her before she retreated.

[member="Kaela Jaryn"]

 

[Kaela Jaryn]

[member="Darth Timoris"]

Kaela watched her fellow Sith like a hawk as she begun to prowl, especially after being handed a lightsaber. It wasn't hers, it felt awkward, clunky, and off balance. Still it would do. She had once been taught that a craftsman never blames their tools for shoddy work, and she didn't intend to start blaming lightsabers for limbs lost now. With each step the Sith lord made, Kaela matched it in the opposite direction, well aware that the weakness of Makashi against Makashi was the flanks of either duelist. If she could keep the fight to a forwards and backwards momentum then she felt confident enough to hold her own, at least for a short while.

This time she didn't reply to the Sith in front of her when questioned, she simply remained wary and at her blade-and-a-half distance, yet for all her focus when the lord darted in to strike at her weapon hand, it was all Kaela could do to spiral her lightsaber into an outer crescent, narrowly deflecting the attack to her left hand - although too late she realised it was an opening feint, and the tip of the blade struck against her thigh during her all too obvious attempt at a retreat, immediately causing bruising and a light but non fatal burn. Training sabers ... The thought, and palpable relief, washed through her despite the throbbing pain from her thigh. She still had her leg. And if she still had her leg then she could retaliate...

And retaliate she did. Ignoring her hurts for now, Kaela slipped forwards to press an attack - again, a similar feint to the Sith Lord's, but it differed. Her blade slipped forwards as she moved, her right arm acting as a counter balance to her strike - as she raised it she twisted her left, aiming to slide the length of her lightsaber across Timoris' own if she attempted to parry to score a strike on her foes knuckles. And if she didn't try to parry? Then Kaela's plan was to follow through with her footwork and attempt a traditional Makashi riposte - a series of small yet quick strikes aimed to inflict a Shiim on the limbs.

Interestingly enough, from Kaela's opening counter attack it would have been plainly obvious to Timoris that the Acolyte had studied well when it came to the basic tuition for Makashi provided by the Sith. Indeed, her footwork, while nowhere near perfect was certainly in a traditional linear fashion, and her bodyweight was evenly distributed to allow fleetness of foot where needed. While certainly she was no professional, and more than likely transmitted her movements through body language before she made them, it was clear that she was no amateur when it came to the form either.

 

[Darth Timoris]

Melori could be considered something of a one-trick pony. But that one trick was rather special. She knew nothing of Alchemy. She was hardly even a novice at Sorcery. She had a few Abilities — but almost all were focused in one area.

Duelling.

Her training to Knighthood was exclusively in this area. She’d even been granted some of Darth Maul’s memories — locked into an old talisman — that allowed her to train as he did. To learn so much quicker than usual his fighting style and tactics.

But Makashi was her first love. And like any first romance, it held a special place in her heart — even if it was made of stone.

Kale was good, there was no denying it. Against a typical Acolyte, she would do well…very well. But Melori was not here to praise, or help confidence. She as here to make her the best she could be, by whatever means were necessary. And sometimes you had to break something down to build it up again.

It was how she was taught and would teach herself. She had to push the Acolyte. To push past fear, for there is no fear in a Sith. Training drives out fear. And she must learned discipline. She must understand that pain makes her stronger.

“A punishment is a lesson, learn it well.”

The mark was necessary. It could sew doubt, or prompt an overreaction. The former would allow Melori to take her apart limb by limb. The latter would make the Acolyte make mistakes, which Melori could capitalise on.

Beneath her robes were scars. Many, many scars. A good few from her first Makashi lesson, when her instructor was not using a training saber. The hole in her thigh was an ugly disfigurement. But the Sith Lord did not believe in inflicting such punishment to prove a point. To teach a lesson.

The deflection was good, Makashi was never about blocking. But with her pace, Melori was able to land the second blow. As she danced backwards, she was pleased the Acolyte pressed an attack. And even more impressed that it was controlled, not wild or fuelled by anger. For emotions fuelled the Force and served the Sith. Ones that went straight to the brain were invariably counter-productive.

And the opening combination almost found its way through Melori’s defences. Only the Force saved her, where her own arrogance might have allowed the attacks to land. She had underestimated the Acolyte.

Good. That fuelled Melori’s anger and she fed on that emotion. She glanced down at her own knuckles. They were red and had clearly been hit. Melori’s arrogance had clearly let her down.

“Is that your best?” It was time for Melori to up the game. To see just how good the Apprentice was. Dun Möch was a valid addition to any Sith’s arsenal. Let’s see how she fared.

“I was hoping you’d impress me…and now I wonder if my time here is wasted.” Melori’s face reflected one of boredom. She had been an actress all her life! And she switched the hilt to her left hand. In truth her stronger hand — but the Acolyte wasn’t to know that. “Look, I’ll fight you left-handed, maybe that will even up the score a little. But I doubt it.”

“Now…attack me.”

[member="Kaela Jaryn"]

 

[Kaela Jaryn]

[member="Darth Timoris"] (apologies about the late reply! Works been killing my buzz recently )

She'd been close. At least once during her counter attack, she felt that if she had only been quicker, stronger, then she would have slipped past the Darth's guard and landed a strike. The thought was immediately shoved out of her mind - doubt was defeatist, and to be defeatist was to admit weakness. She couldn't show any. Not here. Not now. The bruised burn on her leg had gone a little numb from the pain when she had moved in to counter attack, and for this Kaela felt greatful. It would slow her, for sure, but it was better to be aware of ones weakness. She thought the Darth would move to strike her wounded leg again, so cautiously in the minor break, she shifted her posture so her leg was more defensible if she was pressed.

"Is that your best?" The jibe cut a little. Kaela knew she wasn't on form - the stink of the planet and her damnable journey had spoiled her focus. Her leg was testament to that. She couldn't help but smirk though, when the Sith used her left hand.

"The academy overseers say that the citizens of Korriban of old were left handed, Darth Timoris. I would be a fool to think you were not as proficient, if not moreso with your left as your right - old traditions do die hard, after all."

Kaela was well learned. While her peers had wasted their time running foolish errands for vindictive overseers, Kaela had spent her years learning, watching and scrutinising. Indeed, the main reason why she used her left hand herself was due to her time on Korriban, reading about the original Sith of Millennia past and practising their ways, until her left hand was as strong as her right. Still. Timoris had asked her to attack, not give lessons in history. So attack she did.

Even as she moved in, shuffling her legs forwards to feign a lunge at the Dart, Kaela seemed... Collected. Together. She knew that losing her cool would mean losing her head, and she didn't intend to be a nameless corpse in that fething lake she'd just picked a path through - however as she stabbed towards the Sith she flourished her lightsaber around in her left hand in order to bring the blade down towards the left hand shoulder of Timoris. This, she intended, would be the start of a series of strikes designed to test the defences of the Lord in front of her - aside from her opening gambit, she intended the follow-up to be more informative than incapacitating.

 

[Darth Timoris]

Melori was truly impressed. This was no raw novice. But more than that, she was even greater potential. She was a relatively rare breed amongst the One Sith these days. She was a Banite. Not to the degree of a return to the rule of two, but to believe that each successive generation should be stronger than the one before. That the weak should be abandoned, less they dilute the talent pool.

This one would one day surpass Melori in power and she knew it. And she owed it to the One Sith to maximise her learning.

But this did not mean cosseting or nurturing. It meant pressing her relentlessly.

“You still have much to learn. Maybe not in battle, but in larger strategies. I see weakness and exploit it. I sense anger and inflame it. My vision takes in a galaxy, with its multitude of planets and governments. The complexity doesn't intimidate me. I can hold it in my mind and know that someday, I may control it all.”

“And you too. This could be your destiny also. But you need to work hard. Harder than you’ve ever worked before. There is no pain where strength lies. Remember those words, they will become your mantra.”

Melori deflected the saber. She was truly focused and her years of training were not going to be undone by an Acolyte, however good she was. But merely deflecting and frustrating would not be enough, the young pretender needed to be truly tested.

So as she did just enough to ward off the admittedly strong attack, she lifted the remaining training sabers with her right hand, and activating them, threw them at the Acolyte. Makashi was known for its weakness against multiple opponents — so let’s see how she fared.

[member="Kaela Jaryn"]

 

[Kaela Jaryn]

[member="Darth Timoris"]

The Darth was right. Kaela's strategic knowledge outside of not exposing ones flanks, and avoiding being disarmed by the movements of Shii-Cho was severely lacking. Most, if not all of her grander plans were entirely made up on the spot and largely guided by both the Force and her feelings. This, and the last thing she said would ultimately stick with her for the rest of her days - although at present the former would have to wait for a less violent encounter. Strength overcoming pain, however, that was so!ething she could get behind. At least in the immedate.

But unfortunately for Kaela she had thought too much about the Darth's words, and while she should have been paying attention to the Force, she was more focused on pushing the ache in her leg out of her mind. After all, strength over pain. Yet the distinctive snap-hiss of multiple sabers was enough to spring her body into action - her lightsaber twirled into a myriad of parries, and the first two that came at her she managed to either send to the ground or redirect past her body. It was an impressive start. But alas, she was still an acolyte. She was tired. She was off focus. She was injured and slow. The rest found their marks, either scoring glancing blows while she backpedaled, or more serious strikes. She found herself momentarily blinded by the shock of multiple searing objects striking at her body, and involuntary broke her silence with yells of pain at the worst of the strikes. Her footwork failed. She tripped, landing heavily on her back. Were these not training sabers, Kaela would have never felt her body hit the floor.

In one gloriously smooth application of the Force, Darth Timoris had out manoeuvred Kaela, and taken advantage of both her lack of awareness and Makashi's weakness - multiple opponents and a myriad of projectile objects.She had won. Kaela bit back both bile and panic, determined to seem resolute even though in her mind, her life was forfeit. She felt she had impressed the Darth enough with her physical combat, but being defeated by such a simple trick was weak. And weakness was death. She realised then that she wasn't as ready to die as she thought - and though battered, bruised and burned, she tried to stagger to her feet in an effort to pretend that she still had some fight in her...

 

[Darth Timoris]

Melori nodded. The Acolyte had done well. She was in much better shape than Melori had been in her first lesson. But they shared one thing. They came back for more.

When the young Sith had been offered medical assistance, she'd declined it. The Jedi do not offer you bacta in the middle of a duel. Practice was to replicate life, not to give false expectations. Her own training regime had been brutal. Sometimes going days without sleep or food. Being woken in the middle of the night to practice.

And that practice was relentless. Again. It was the word she heard more than any other. Again. Every time she failed. Again. Every time she was successful. Again.

And so she faced the Acolyte and recognised the look on the Apprentice's face. Determination. Good, that was what the Sith needed. "Who is your Master?" she asked. If he was good, she would commend him. If he was not...well then Kaela would be about to trade up.

But she did not wait for an answer. She saluted once more and beckoned the Acolyte forward. "Again..."

[member="Kaela Jaryn"]

 

[Kaela Jaryn]

[member="Darth Timoris"]

A nod? A mark of respect? Kaela was momentarily dazed. Why not a lightsaber to the chest? Why not a death that furthered the ends of Darth Timoris? And then the question. "Who is your master?" she had asked. A master? Kaela had known only group tutoring, bar the occasional one to one session designed to instill the proper etiquette for a Sith in her. Other than that, ultimately she had been responsible for her own training. Did that mean she was her own master? The final line of the Sith code seemed apt, but such an question deserved an honest answer. There was no pause to reply, so Kaela did so while she picked herself up properly, and readied herself for another round. The thought that this was most assuredly going to kill her wasn't too far away from her mind, despite her efforts to set it aside.

"Other than the Academies, I have myself to answer for my training. I guess that makes the answer is nobody, or myself."

With this, Kaela took a leaf out of Timoris' book, and launched into another classic Makashi riposte, aiming a series of attacks to strike at the Darth's limbs as opposed to her torso. The purpose of the strikes was to try and find a hole in her defences, and, once found, allow room for Kaela to impose on any flaws with more surgical strikes at a later point in the duel. Yet throughout she was sorely aware of her minor injuries - however the look of determination on her face suggested that she intended to settle the score, regardless of how difficult such a feat would be for a duelist of her standard...

 

[Darth Timoris]

Melori listened and duelled. One of the benefits of years of relentless training was the ability to multi-task to this extent.

“Your progress thus far is therefore commendable. But you will never reach your full potential by yourself. I offer you the role of Acolyte to me. It is entirely up to you if you take it. It depends on your ambition, your capacity for learning and your desire for hard work. If you decline, I can still offer you training — and will not challenge your decision, despite any thoughts I might harbour.”

“So…as well as an answer to that question, I pose you a challenge. Which line of the Code of the Sith do you think you’ve reached?”

And Melori remained impressed by the Acolyte’s duelling. Her footwork, her ability to seek weaknesses. To clearly probe for use later. It reminded her of her oldest sister, who duelled in a similar fashion. And she never bested her once. But she’d left the Sith when Melori was an Acolyte — and now she was a Sith Lord. If they met again, who knew what the outcome might be.

But for now, Melori kept the Acolyte at bay. Offering false hope here and there. Hinting at weaknesses that were in fact false. Waiting for the young Sith to overextend. To seize on a mistake that was merely a ploy — and then Melori could strike.

[member="Kaela Jaryn"]

 

[Kaela Jaryn]

[member="Darth Timoris"]
[December got in the way of posting. Sorry mon ami!]


Compliments from a Sith Lord? Kaela skipped a beat, barely deflecting one of the ripostes that seemed to come as naturally from Timoris as talking did. Of all the things she had expected, a compliment was so far down the list it hadn't even made the paper. What next? She thought to herself, while moving in a circle around the Sith. Well, what next happened to be the offer of being Timoris' student. Without a second thought she accepted, taking a brief moment to be k away and bow formally to her opponent.

"You do me a great honour, Darth Timoris - one that I accept without reservation. As for your question? I prefer to think of the code as one body. As the academy masters said, only the weak limit themselves to one thought at a time.

I have set aside peace, I use my strength to forge power for my own ends, and I exert my power to force victories over lesser opponents. With each victory I break another chain, and the force to me, is another weapon to be used against the Jedi. With each that dies or becomes enlightened, I gain more freedom to master the Darkside." She spoke with a formality matching her bow, but as she raised she had a notable glint, or a glimmer in her eyes.

The academy had taught her that Sith killed their masters without hesitation - A lesson Kaela had watched happen, as the overseer that had been teaching them was swiftly dispatched mid sentence by his apprentice. The irony was delicious, and the true nature of the lesson had stuck with her. And now she was an apprentice herself, to a Darth no less. With the same lack of hesitation her overseers apprentice had shown, she burst forwards to strike at one of Timoris' feigned weaknesses, using her wrist to flick her saber to the left at the last moment in an effort to make the attack come in at an odd angle - yet another technique straight out of the Makashi handbook. To an individual who hadn't been faking their weaknesses the strike would more than likely have scored a strike along their ribcage, causing a vicious and potentially fatal wound. Kaela was certain this would be the outcome this time, for she had spotted and tested the apparent flaw in Timoris' armor multiple times in their duel...

 

[Darth Timoris]

Spoiler

Real life always comes first

”No honour, just hard work, said Melori, her voice cool and effortless, as if having a cosy fireside chat as opposed to a potentially deadly duel.

Fencing with Kaela challenged Melori, because in any other foe, she could use the Force to sense emotional states, to detect subtle changes that foreshadowed impending moves, unexpected attacks, vicious tricks.

But sometimes Kaela was a disconcerting blank to her, an empty spot – which made her a worthy opponent. Melori didn’t know if it was a deliberate tactic or a natural talent that manifested itself, but it was a useful tool to have in the locker.

”Your approach is well conceived – and I’ll not contradict you – but share a word of warning. The Sith Code may not be entirely linear, but it is not necessarily holistic either. Without strength, power is hard to achieve. And you need power to achieve any victory of note. But it is cyclical, or perhaps better described as levels. My current focus is galactic. Strength to win a duel is nothing compared to the strength required to hold a sector in check.”

Melori had offered a few potential weaknesses, but her Acolyte had not picked up on them. Or perhaps had noticed them and dismissed them for what they actually were…fake.

Suddenly Kaela attacked a weakness Melori hadn’t feigned. As soon as the manoeuvre began, Darth Timoris realised her own error. She’d schooled in Makashi for many years but lately had focused more on other Forms. More powerful strokes.

So it was Teräs Käsi and not the Force that saved her a potentially fatal wound. The martial art she’d literally learned from Darth Maul’s own memories. It allowed her to predict strikes and so she was able to deflect her Apprentice’s strike at her ribcage. But the odour of burning cloth and skin revealed how close the blade came to penetrating her ribs.

Some Sith might lash out, in anger and annoyance at being foxed by a mere Acolyte. But Melori was of the Banite school. When she died, she wanted a stronger Sith to replace her – and here she had potentially found her successor.

But this was a lesson after all and no sooner had she tipped the blade away than she ducked down and performed a leg-sweep, aiming to deposit her charge on her posterior. A combination of the Force and Teräs Käsi made the move lightning fast.

[member="Kaela Jaryn"]

 

[Kaela Jaryn]

[member="Darth Timoris"]

No honor. Just hard work.

The saying would stick with Kaela for the rest of her life, and although she wasn't exactly aware of it, the words would ultimately stick with her and shape her future interactions with the greater Galaxy. What she did know, however, was that the floor was certainly more solid than it looked, and was quicker at approaching than she could anticipate. Floors. Tricksy things. She lay there dazed for a moment, while her head swam. A thin trickle of blood running down the side of her face gently suggested to her that she was still alive, despite colliding heavily with the floor, and that if she wanted to remain that way then she should strongly consider getting up.

Up. Up was a struggle, but she had taken far more savage beatings, and the thin line of blood that now dripped absent mindedly off her chin refused to let her be bested by a "mere" concussion. So up she staggered, forcing her body up with an ugly, uncoordinated lurch. It wasn't elegant, but it worked. Yet as she rose new sensations filled her, outside of the throbbing ache that sat inside her skull. She could smell something. A burning something. She checked, patting herself in a bemused confusion.

At least until reality hit.

It wasn't her.

But if it wasn't her then... She snapped her head round, immediately registering the Sith that she had been duelling moments prior, the memory snapping back into her mind with all the power of a scattergun. The burning smell was singed flesh from the training saber. She'd landed a hit? But how? This was a foe far beyond her, a warrior with a finesse far greater than Kaela could hope to achieve. But she'd made contact. Timoris was mortal after all.

Yet despite this Kaela had been stricken down again, and she had no clue how. Teräs Käsi was not something she had ever encountered, and the blinding speed of it coupled with the concussion she received as a result made it all too much of a blur to learn from. Mortal, but beyond deadly. Kaela could only assume she had over extended (which, given her inexperience was more than likely), and settled on quietly resolving never to open herself up to whatever that was like that again.

Her hand extended. The force came to her easily, and as she used it to pull the dropped training saber back to her hand it washed away the fog from her mind, leaving her with only her pain, and her focus. If she could hit Timoris once, she could do it twice. The lightsaber ignited with a flourish and the unmistakable snap-hiss associated with it, illuminating her body in the deep crimson of her blade. And although her face was worn and her features bloody, she couldn't do much to hide the enjoyment on her face when she spoke:

"Again."

 

[Darth Timoris]

Melori’s first spar with a Sith Lord ended when she was almost literally carried out of the room. She simply chose not to give up and the opponent in question saw enough promise in her not to end her life, but instead to coach and develop her into the killing machine she was now.

She saw her Acolyte pull herself to her feet — and saw the dawning realisation that it was the Master’s flesh that the pungent smell belonged to and not the Apprentice.

Was it overconfidence? Melori didn’t believe so. There was a passion she sensed. A longing to engage.

“There is no pain where strength lies.” Melori said the words quietly at first. Then she repeated them over and over, growing in volume with each telling.

“There is no pain where strength lies. There is no pain where strength lies. There is no pain where strength lies. There is no pain where strength lies.”

“Every training exercise has value, even the most basic ones. Never stop until I say so. Never give in. There is no fear in a Sith. Training drives out fear. Be prepared to lose your life at any time.”

“Never break a fall. If you are prepared to break your fall, you are prepared for the fall itself. Sith do not fall. They do not fail.”

“There is no pain where strength lies. Say it!”

[member="Kaela Jaryn"]

 

[Kaela Jaryn]

[member="Darth Timoris"]


Sith do not fall. Sith do not fail. One day, Kaela would say these words to Timoris' corpse. Such was the way of the Sith. She would reveal a weakness, and Kaela would be there to exploit it. But that was a long way away. She had too much to learn from this Darth, and too much to learn about herself. But one day... Her thoughts were interrupted by the sudden demand, and she replied as the Darth wanted her to.

"There is no pain where strength lies."

Her voice was strong, confident. Assured. But it lacked total conviction. She understood the words well enough - pain is not a barrier for the strong, and those who are truly strong feel no pain, but there was something about it Kaela wasn't completely rallying behind. To her it sounded like there was no more to strength than throwing yourself mindlessly into the fray with no regard for your physical being. It sounded almost like Timoris intended for her to be strong, yet not value her life. Kaela said the words again. And again. Each time she spoke she seemingly sounded more and more passionate about the sentence, more and more like Timoris. More and more like the Sith Lord. Yet in the back of her mind she couldn't help but think:

True strength is not measured by pain.

Still. She couldn't risk being seen as subversive - So she sprang again, not giving up, and not stopping the duel as Darth Timoris had instructed her. The change in focus was what Kaela needed, an extra layer of thoughts to make her feelings harder to read. And so her lightsaber snaked in from the right, once more flicking at the final moment through a nearly subtle wrist movement. Again her strike was designed to slip through Timoris' guard, yet unlike before it wasn't anywhere near as finely honed. It was almost sloppy. Her head, while clear enough for thought from the concussion, was not quite there when her motor skills were concerned, and as a result the strike was slower and less accurate than Kaela was capable of.

 

[Darth Timoris]

“Good” Melori said, she almost crooned the word. This was a worthy Acolyte. And as she had gleaned every ounce of knowledge from her Masters, so this one would reveal all she had to give. And then she was expendable. It was the way of the Sith. But Melori didn't mind. In fact, she approved. She was loyal to the philosophy, not her own agenda or needs. She had no bulging bank-balance or horde of servants.

What she did, she did for the Sth, not her own personal gain.

And she sensed her Acolyte’s hesitancy. It was understandable. Not every Acolyte did everything they were asked without question. Some Lords killed for this lack of faith. On another day, Melori may have too. But this one was too good to waste.

“If you are prepared to break a fall, you are prepared for the fall itself,” she said, as if by way of explanation. She’d used the line already. “If you fear pain, you will take actions to avoid it. And that will make you weak. It will be something your enemy can exploit. If you are strong, truly strong, pain is of no consequence. And so you will not fear it. And so you cannot be exploited.”

“If you do not fear, you will not fail. One day I shall teach you to embrace fear. It is the most powerful emotion to use to fuel the Dark-side. It’s strength is delicious. Truly wonderful. But not all can use it. Too many cannot get over the paralysis it brings.”

She was aware what Kaela was doing. It was commendable, but needed to be checked. Overconfidence was a dangerous thing, and this one needed to be nurtured. Fast-tracked? Yes. Pushed? Yes. But she was still too fragile to risk breaking.

The Acolyte might have been reading Melori’s thoughts. Her effort to attack was well-timed but sloppy in its execution. As if a half-hearted effort.

Melori parried the blows with reasonable ease and held up her right hand to use the Force to hold her Acolyte by the throat. Enough pressure to keep her on the spot and not enough to risk a black-out.

She deactivated her saber and snapped it to her belt. She turned and looked at the closest pillar. Six foot thick. Solid stone.

Her left hand snaked out. To a Sith it was lightning fast. To someone without Force Sensitivity, her hand would not appeared to have even moved. Only the noise would have indicated something had happened.

She held her left hand out to Kaela, her fingers bunched. In the pilar was a hole. Melori opened her fingers. In it was stone dust. “That could have been your heart.” Her voice was cold and threatening. “Next time, kill me or resist your urge. You have too much to learn to even contemplate taking my life now.”

She released her Force Choke.

“This lesson has ended. Meet me at the hangar at the main Temple here on Tython in twenty-four hours. We’re going to get you a new crystal. And you’ll face your next test. And this one will be interesting. As you will be facing yourself.”

Cryptic? Possibly. Truthful? Absolutely.

[member="Kaela Jaryn"]

 

[Kaela Jaryn]

[member="Darth Timoris"]

Another compliment? Kaela presumed that the Sith Lord wasn't talking to her. Two compliments from a Darth would be no less than a mean feat. Still. Timoris began to speak mid duel again. She heard, she listened. Truthfully, she didn't understand much, and what she did understand was soon battered through one ear and out of the other when her master easily patted away her strikes, like a manka cat would do a ball of yarn.

And then it happened. The force. Before she could even attempt to resist the choke, Timoris had her. Her feet lifted from the floor slightly, and her lightsaber clattered to the floor while her hands reached up to try and claw at the unseen hands holding her in place. She registered a movement from the Darth - a snaking left hand? She couldn't see, so finely held between consciousness and the swimming black void that so calmly welcomed her.

A crack?

Whatever it was, Kaela knew it wasn't her bones. Then the hands that bound her throat were gone, and her body dropped to the floor in both exhaustion and supplication. She saw dust. Then she saw the hole. Timoris' words rang in her mind like a clap in a glass hallway. This could have been her heart. She didn't doubt it. In one fell swoop, Timoris had revealed the extent of the gap between her skills and Kaela's, reminded the Acolyte of her place, and taught her that if she were to ever best the Darth, she would have to dedicate many years of her life to the cause - and even then the chances were slim.

As Timoris made it clear that she was done here, Kaela bowed her head. She had twenty four hours to recuperate, to rest, and to prepare herself for another challenge. No doubt the Kaela of the future would consider the Kaela of the past lucky to have this much time to herself. Presently, however, twenty four hours seemed like five minutes, so she quietly pulled herself to her feet and slunk off into the shadows to find a quiet resting place...