Private Iron Sharpens Iron

[Revna Marr]

Location: Kor'ethyr Academy Grounds; Korriban​

Dark scores scarred the ground around the two figures - one a woman, smaller and seemingly lighter in frame; and the other a taller and broader young man, who almost seemed to dwarf her. Two crimson blades clashed against one another as both sought to reach the other in a delicate dance of death - one where the woman clearly seemed to have the upper hand, or at least the one with the most experience. At first glance, it would appear that the two were earnestly trying to kill one another - but looks were deceiving.

Revna had no intention of killing her apprentices, not unless they spectacularly failed her.

This was but a simple practice session, a spar between Master and apprentice, to sharpen and fine tune the young man - as well sharpen her own skills, and learn how he fought.

Especially with a weapon or a blade that was not his own.

They had been going at their sparring session for almost an hour, and not once had Revna relented in her assault. She pressed upon Varin in the same manner that Darth Carnifex had pressured her in their many duels, integrating both offensive and defensive techniques and interchanging them on a whim to keep the young Sith on his toes and always adapting to the fight - much in the same way she had been forced to do, when she fought for her life against the Dark Lords. What good were the lessons, if she didn’t pass them along to her own students?

The spar ended when Revna had had enough, and with a decisive twist of her wrist, disarmed Varin before bringing the humming red blade up towards his throat, just enough for him to feel the lethal heat of it, before she stepped back and disengaged the blade and bringing their practice session to an end.

“Very good, Varin. You’re a quick learner, and you have a decent foundation to your swordsmanship.” Revna said as she hooked her saber back on the belt around her waist, and pushed a stray lock of silvery black hair back from her face. Varin might notice that, even in the chilled air of Korriban, that there was a beading of sweat upon her brow. She had made him work, but in turn he had worked her as well.

“I have a task for you.” she stated after a few minutes, to allow them both to calm their racing hearts and collect their breaths. “Or, more accurately, a challenge. I want you to engage Lysander in a fight, a swordfight. I want you to disarm him and confiscate his lightsaber. Bring it to me, as proof of your victory over your co-apprentice.”

She issued the order, the challenge, so casually and as if it would be an easy task for Varin - and yet both would know it was anything but. Lysander was an excellent duelist, sharp and quick and lethal. Varin had his own strengths and weaknesses when it came to swordfighting, just as Lysander had his own. And she knew that by pitting them against one another, they would sharpen each other.

Besides, she felt it would do them good to have a friendly rivalry and competition going on between them.

“You are not to give him any warning beforehand. Your enemies will not warn you before they attack you, so neither should you. Choose wisely the time when you engage him - as it may decide whether you win or lose your fight.”

Of course…what she didn’t tell Varin, was that she had given Lysander the same challenge just hours earlier when she had last met with the blonde Acolyte: to fight Varin, and disarm him, and bring Revna the proof of his victory over his fellow apprentice. By telling them both to choose the right time in which to engage, was to make them study each other and look for the opportune moment that might grant them victory.

She trusted them both not to kill one another - but she also didn’t say as much to either of them. Both were very valuable as prospect Sith, and had great potential. But she was training them to be Sith - and only the strongest of their Order would rise above the masses. If one fell to death, then it was a natural culling of the weak.

Revna would be disappointed, for sure. But she understood the way of the Sith, and it was her job as their Master to ensure that they came to understand it as well.

Of course, injuries were to be expected, but Revna wasn't too concerned about this, for she knew that Madrona A’Mia would be able to help repair any wounds delivered or sustained.

“Unless you have questions, Varin, then you are dismissed and may go about the rest of your day as you please.”

Varin Mortifer // Lysander von Ascania ​

 

[Varin Mortifer]

Revna Marr Lysander von Ascania

The weapon left his hand and clattered to the floor as he felt the intense heat of the crimson blade near his flesh. In the heat of the moment all he could do was glare into her eyes, showing no fear but understanding he still had much to learn.

Doubt began to spew into his mind until Revna spoke about his swordsmanship. The sting of losing his weapon was still prevalent, but to hear that he is quick to improvement did not fall on deaf ears.

"I will do better for our next session, master."

He spoke directly and quietly after she spoke. Though he did take note that even though he still needed to work on his combat skills, ge still exerted his master to a degree. As she holstered her saber a phrase caught his undivided attention.

“I have a task for you.”

Though she reworded it to a challenge Varin was immediately hooked. Anything for growth is what he craved.

Issuing him a challenge to duel his co-apprentice and retrieve his lightsaber only to return it to his master. This challenge brought excitement to him. He could challenge himself and his apprentice thus bringing both of them growth. That does not mean he would go easy at all on Lysander, and he certainly wouldn't expect the same response from him either.

With a quick lift of his hand the disengaged hilt flew back into his hand. He then placed it back to its proper housing where he grabbed it before.

He remained quiet as Revna spoke, taking in her words to heart and to memory, and smirked.

"As you wish."

He stood for just a moment, in hesitance of kneeling, a habbit from his father's previous teachings. Instead he simply lowered his head keeping an eye on his master before he quietly left the training area heading to his dorm.

The sun was setting, giving the red hue in the sky. It took some time but Varin had finally gotten used to it. It wasn't long before he finally arrived back at his dorm opening the door.

 

[Lysander von Ascania]

Revna Marr | Varin Mortifer | Madrona A’Mia

​

An object hovered above the digital scale before he carefully set it down.

The blue-hued numbers flickered for a moment.

6 ounces.

Lysander smirked slightly, eyeing the prize.

A Bantha steak. For someone who was constantly engaged in training these days, it was more precious than any Sith artifact.

In this corner of the room, a makeshift kitchen had been set up, complete with a low-heat plasma grill that hummed with a similar tune to his lightsaber. Sliding the thick slab of meat steak onto the device, the grill began its duty by searing the surface.

Several minutes passed, and with care he transferred it to the small cutting board crafted from dark wood. The aroma teased the teen’s senses, begging to be noticed, but his attention remained elsewhere.

Adorning his ears was a bulky pair of noise-cancelling headphones, the kind that meant to silence the world around him. With curved blade suitable for a chef, he sliced through the steak with the same precision of a seasoned butcher, sparing no glance. His eyes were locked on the datapad that was propped up against the wall, displaying the latest episode of Twin Suns, One Heart. Lysander hadn't quite been a fan of the first season, especially with the slower pace and a rather odd Ashla-worshipping antagonist, but season two started with a banger, and now he was officially hooked.

Before long, his Force-attuned senses, sharpening more each month, detected nearby movement. A lifeform approached; thankfully, the presence was familiar. Though confident in the current operation with A’Mia’s greenhouse, a recent surge in customer activity had begun to make him feel paranoid, a heightened state that was both foreign and unwelcoming to be sure.

This was the very reason he’d recently purchased an old, abandoned warehouse in the industrial district with leftover credits from his father’s death. It wasn’t too far from the academy, and offered more privacy, certainly more than he’d experienced since arriving on Korriban. Aside from being a secure spot to receive larger packs from the Neti, it would also be where the acolyte could finally begin exploring music.

Simply put, Lysander was done with dorm life.

At the moment, Lysander lounged comfortably in black athletic sweats, having recently returned from a morning class; the dull lecture turned out to be nearly impossible to follow. Lately, he'd been more obsessed with physical training than ever before, a stark shift from his Padawan years, when he'd been consumed by holotexts.

Prep knife still in hand, and stretching lazily, his muscles rippled under tanned skin, as he gazed across the room to Varin, offering the boy a nod of acknowledgement, and then returning to the holodrama.

 

[Varin Mortifer]

Lysander von Ascania

Instantly the boy was greeted with the sweet scent of cooking meat. He couldn’t help but pause for a moment to enjoy the aroma. Noticing Lysander was on the couch he received a greeting nod. Varin walked into the room following the scent.

“What did you add to that?” He could feel his mouth start to salivate at the thought of food.

He’s open right now boy! Take this opportunity.

Varin shoved Ignati’s suggestion to the back of his mind. They had recently added a few new things to the dorm and he really did not want to ruin the room….again.

He took his place in a chair not far from Lysander to watch this next holodrama. He hated to admit it but he was certainly drawn to these little shows. He reached into his bag to pull out a pack of mainly dried fruits and nuts and began to snack on those while watching.

“Have you ever thought about making bantha jerky?”

Taking in a mouthful of his snack he reminisced that flavors of jerky, how much he loved it as just something quick to have, but the prices have hit the snack hard. For some reason a snack that leaned more to the poorer side had grown so much in price he simply refused to buy any nowadays.

“Smother it in sweet sauces and spices and let it dry out. Maybe add some spice to them to add a little pep in your step.” He sighed ever so slightly. “I miss that.”

He stretched the soreness out of his arms. Thinking back on the duel with his master he would have to do something soon about a lightsaber. His main issue with it is it was just so light. He loved the feeling of resistance in his swings, the weight that would carry every decision of his strikes. But for now, he would take this rare opportunity to just relax and watch the holodrama, studying his co-apprentice.

He chuckled to himself. “I noticed those herbs we shared before made me a bit…snacky. Is that common?”

 

[Lysander von Ascania]

Varin Mortifer

​

A knowing smirk flashed as his gaze lingered on Varin's entrance into the room. He knew that exact look, one of anticipation, typically born after training sessions when all he could think about was consuming food. When his roommate settled onto the couch. Lysander's returned to the holodrama. Given that it was a new episode unfolding, he wasn't about to miss a detail. His mind had a way of hungrily dissecting every frame, every twist in the storyline, and more often than not, it was a puzzle only he cared to solve.

However, the description of the beef jerky had him listening intently. A savory image in the mind's eye was already stirring the boy's appetite once more before there was even a chance to reply. With a slow, amused shake of his head, Lysander finally turned to him. "No, but now that sounds really good."

Chuckling softly, he leaned back into the cushions and allowed his focus to momentarily drift upwards to the ceiling. Chances were he'd rewatch this entire season at some point anyway. A slow breath escaped through his nose. The thought of the next class was already feeling heavily, one he hadn't been keen on attending lately. Some of them no longer seemed to align with the path he tried carving for himself, becoming distraction from the priorities held close to the heart.

But when Varin mentioned the herbs and the snack, Lysander's expression suddenly shifted. The blonde looked thoughtful and amused, fingers tapping on one knee. "Yeah, bro," he began, tone sincere, "but it's also kind of like a sports supplement. The heat here on Korriban can kill my appetite sometimes. So after training, I like to smoke a little.. plus it sharpens the senses." A small admission between friends, the same bond that Lysander felt towards the other Badawans, despite the treacherous nature of their kind.

"I really don't see any more classes in the forecast today," he added, stretching his legs out. "But I don't want to be stuck here either. If you're down, I could show you the warehouse I picked up the other day. It's over in the industrial district.. not too far from here."

As the sounds of Twin Suns, One Heart hummed in the background, mirth danced over the teen's face, lips curling as he prepared to mimic one of the characters. "And, pray tell, how goes your seduction of that one pureblood Sith muscle mommy? Have you yet uncovered her name?"

 

[Varin Mortifer]

Lysander von Ascania

He paused for a moment. How could such a plant sharpen the senses? Is it also normal to be extremely sick after smoking it? What's the real appeal to it? All of these were questions he had but he supposed he could ask them another time. One thing for sure, Ignati did not like it and made it very clear, which would likely answer the getting sick part. His thoughts were cut short when he heard about a warehouse that his roommate had bought.

“Yeah, I'd like to check it out, getting out may do us some more good. What all is already in it?”

Another question was asked that caught Varin slightly off guard. Since the last time he spoke about her he hadn’t really seen her until recently while doing some reading studies.

“Seduction? I don’t quite know what you mean by that. She’s just a sparring partner at the moment, and I don't think she is old enough to bear children.”

He smirked after he gave his answer. Walking to his room to change out of his training gear he revealed a bit more detail of this new sparring partner.

“I did finally get her name though. Nyara, and she is certainly…..spicy? Almost always looking for a scrap. Kind of reminds me of me.”

Coming back in wearing his more casual loose fitting clothing, various patterns of maroon and black. He looked back at the holodrama as he sat back down.

“There was that weequay that tried to interrupt a good conversation between the two of us though. Starting to think I should have just finished the job. I haven't had a good fight in a long time though.”

 

[Lysander von Ascania]

Varin Mortifer

​

“Not much,” he said casually. “I just made sure the kitchen was right first, got an old desk up too. But beyond that.. nothing important.”

The blonde's lips pursed together; mirth sparkled behind his gaze, before continuing more thoughtfully. “You do make a valid point. I guess it doesn’t matter how many midichlorians she has or if a shoulder somehow gets dislocated during sparring. What really matters is the potential for childbearing. Honestly, I bet you could publish a whole study on that. I mean, I have faith in your abilities for such findings!”

When his roommate stepped away, he effortlessly slipped back into the holodrama, as if no interruption ever took place. Scenes playing out, dialogue flowing, he was fully immersed in the fictional world until Varin returned. The boy's brows then furrowed as his head tilted. "That's not necessarily bad, I suppose. Spicy's got its merits, sure," he commented, chuckling softly. Lysander couldn't recall where that data arrived from, but if he had to guess, it most likely surfaced during a banter session after training with some of the other boy acolytes.

One eyebrow quirked in question. "Bro, this almost sounds like the start of one of them enemy-to-lovers tropes.. pretty much a classic theme in all of my holodramas." But such stories often all required the essential ingredients. A grin unfurled. "Has there been anything like.. you know.. prolonged eye contact and whatnot? I need details." After watching hundreds of episodes, the bard was certain that he knew all the subtle signs of flirting.

A sigh drifted into the room, and he peeled himself off the couch. His hand found the black hoodie lying on the table nearby and pulled it over his head; it matched the athletic pants. Next came the smooth slide into high-top shoes with flat rubber soles. He would finish by slipping the curved lightsaber hilt into the front pouch.

But the mention of their Weequay neighbor caused the teen's mood to shift. Stretching both arms overhead, he twisted his torso in the same manner one would when warming up before throwing hands. “Man,” he muttered, “if that schutta is starting to get between you and Nyara, maybe it’s time for him to kick dirt.. permanently.”

He recalled the rival from his Teräs Käsi class, one who tested both his skill and patience. Something familiar stirred within.

“I’d be down to help,” Lysander said calmly, as if discussing little more than a workout routine rather than the potential murder of their neighbor. “But.. we need to make it public, a spectacle for all to see.” His voice became more serious; words were now dripping with malice. “That way, it sends a clear message to everyone. It will show that we have an alliance, and that will be enough to keep the annoying ones at bay.” With a shrug of the shoulders, he strode towards the door. “Nothing worse than some weakling constantly barking for attention."