Private One to Teach; One to Learn

[Darth Tennacus]

Location: Sith Training Grounds

Mentions: Darth Senthral



Times had changed, but the lineage of Two lived ever on. As much as it had changed, never did its legacy die out. Some may shun upon its demands, but its ideologies had once delivered the Sith to ultimate power; a Galactic Empire that had been foreseen so very long ago. Secrecy must be absolute. Deception and subtleness are not our enemy, but our ally. His Master had taught him that so very long ago. Following the lineage, knowledge had been passed down to a singular Apprentice, fated to overthrow him. Tennacus was not opposed to the idea of being overpowered himself. If the Force wills it, so be it. That was his ideology - his belief. But before such a fate, if it would ever come, would befall him, he would see his knowledge passed down to someone worth the expense of time. Someone who could master, manipulate and deploy some of the Sith's greatest potentials. Tap into its greatest mysteries, and enforce the power of the Sith to be ever more volatile in the hands of someone capable of it.

Tennacus often thought back on the teachings of his Master, Darth Viscus. A Hysalrian with a tongue as serpentine as the rest of him, he often had Tennacus go through the most difficult of trials. At times, Tennacus believed it to be a means of punishment - jealousy. Envy. Knowing that one day he would overpower him, ever fearful of the day. But now? Now the Sith knew it was necessary. Darth Viscus was a zealot, but he desired nothing more than to see the Sith ascend to greater power. If not in himself, then Tennacus. If not in Tennacus, then the human male who had now initiated his apprenticeship underneath him.

Darth Tennacus was a tenacious human. Tenacity had earned him his name. He would see this apprentice brought to greater power, even if it meant advancing above him. Silently - patiently - he waited within that vacant hall, lit dimly by the opposing candles faintly exuding their orange hue. The fabrics of Sith fabrics draped loosely over his frame; Darth Rhys would soon find out why. His hood hung heavy over his face. Grey, cold gems looked beyond the hanging black silk; the respirator cupping his mouth emphasised his breathing. Pained by each aching breath, the Dark Side was ever strong in him. Pain fuelled him, coursing through his chest like liquid fire. Emotions were only natural.

Eternal pain would see a lifeform eventually learn how to ignore it.

 

[Darth Senthral]

Location: Sith Training Grounds

Mentions: https://www.starwarsrp.net/members/secluded-dream.25208/


Darth Rhys found himself entering a vacant hall, with scarce lighting but orange flames upon candles throughout the place. To the man he looked, and why he did not seem to know. Except that he did, this was a means to a far off end, or a lack thereof an end. Longevity was not what had brought him here though, knowledge and the power gained from it was the beckoner. The Dark Side. The desire for it’s powers pulled him to this apprenticeship, and yet through seeking knowledge, he admitted ignorance. He did not know the pain that would come, only what it would bring him. Ignorance is no bliss, knowledge breeds power, and power would set free hearts and minds.

Legs carried forth a vessel, void of knowledge, the knowledge it needed. The knowledge that he needed. Yet in his excitement he didn’t speak, he simply stopped and stood before Darth Tennacus. Shortly though he kneeled in respect, it felt right, and yet he could not be sure. Nothing could he be sure of until he was told. Trust in the Dark Side, and trust in his new Master. These were the thoughts that ran free in his mind as he kneeled. His tongue tight, in respect? Or fear? Mayhaps, even Rhys did not know.

 

[Darth Tennacus]

Location: Holy City of the Brotherhood of the Maw, Training Grounds

mentions: Darth Senthral


Nothing was immediately said between them; sometimes two could speak without words. The Dark Side allowed them to get a sense of one another. Darth Tennacus had undoubtedly tapped into it, reading the potential within the knelt apprentice. The Dark Side was within him, subtle, but sturdy. At first, the Sith Lord was only monitoring for conflict. A struggle between the Dark and the Light; the natural and unnatural. Many struggled with that conflict, not knowing where they stood. Some wanted power, but we’re afraid to use it. Some accepted to remain loyal to the Light, but secretly wondered on how far the Dark could go.

Tennacus motioned his hand calmly through the air. “Rise, my apprentice.”

Once the apprentice rose, Tennacus folded his arms over his chest. Again he fell silent, with only the respirator emphasise each exhale in what might have felt like a tense silence. “Tell me,” Tennacus added, “what is it that you seek in the Dark Side of the Force?”

 

[Darth Senthral]

Location: Sith Training Grounds

Mentions: Darth Tennacus


“Freedom.” Was the word that came from mind to mouth the fastest, although shortly more would surely follow.

“Freedom under any stars, an end I can only meet with the the means of knowledge and power. More than that even, the Light Side is Peace perhaps, but I seek to hone the Chaos. The Dark Side.” Those last words were a surprise to him, he knew that he sought freedom. He was himself after-all, only he was Darth Rhys.

His eyes, unseen under his dark hood, stared blankly ahead at Darth Tennacus. What were this man’s ambitions? What had his Master once sought the Dark Side of the Force for. What reasoning drove this man to pursue it? Curiosity overflowed him, and yet he was content. Maybe content wasn’t the way to describe it, there were trials and tribulations ahead at any corner now. Yet… growth could not be expected without them, he would fight through them as he always had. This, this he knew would not change.

 

[Darth Tennacus]

Mentions: Darth Senthral

Power. That was the benefit of the Dark Side. Raw, volatile power; and in the hands of someone capable, something truly special. Tennacus liked to believe that Darth Rhys had the potential to reach such desires. As much as he believed it would be to benefit himself, it would benefit the Sith even more so. With the right conditioning, of course.

“Power and knowledge can be one and the same. Even honed chaos has an order to it. The Jedi like to believe their emotions are what drives them — us — to chaos. But if you look at the history of the Sith, we have many a time overwhelmed them and come to and beyond the brink of Galactic rule at least once under our methods to the Dark Side. But just as we have risen, we have fallen. Why do you think that is?”

 

[Darth Senthral]

Mentions: Darth Tennacus

“Perhaps my knowledge is not so lofty as your own, and yet I have two theories. Infighting is one, maybe the freedom under the Dark Side allures minds to different ideals. Who best to kill the powerful, but of course the other of those powerful.” That was one idea, and yet it was not far off from the other he had. He’d given it thought himself, why had the Sith fallen? The Dark Side though unnatural can give raw power, and when tamed with a clear mind. Why, what could beat that? In his thinking something else came to mind.

“Weakness. It is easy to be weak, at one time every person is weak. It is one in a million for one to be born stronger than most. The weak gather though, they fester and in their numbers feign strength. Perhaps it was the weakness in our own numbers, that needed purging. Though could also be the number of Jedi, overpowering, the Light Side itself is a strong force. They say it is easy to turn to the Dark Side for power, and yet most who do lose themselves in the process. Others return to the Light, so maybe it is not so easy as they say. Numbers speak.”

Those were the conclusions he came to, and even if they weren’t what Darth Tennacus sought as answer. He felt there might be a sliver of truth in them.

 

[Darth Tennacus]

Mentions: Darth Senthral


Silence once again moved over them. Prolonged, this time, in the midst of Tennacus' moment of thought. He definitely believed that Darth Rhys had about him a mind for the philosophical; he seemed to understand the very nature and consequences of power. "You are correct," Darth Tennacus finally answered, monotonous in his verse. "infighting can be a terrible recipe for demise. Those who gain power can be afraid to lose it. To see another rise is only a threat to themselves; a threat they must remove. The Sith of old suffered this internal struggle. The Brotherhood of Darkness fell to their own greed and fear. I suffered to see our brothers fall at the hands of their fellow kin. Brothers in arms ever fearing the woman or man beside them. In the end, their own fear was their own undoing."

Tennacus unfolded one of his arms. Ghostly, pale fingers basked in the presence of an ever concentrated focus of Dark Side energy. "But I will teach you the ways of the old Sith. You will learn to walk and fight like they do. Their magic - their alchemy - was beyond the capabilities of many desperate to unveil it, but I will teach you all I know. With it, one day you may possess the means to kill me."

By no means was Darth Tennacus being melancholic. He was a strong believer in the ideologies of the Rule of Two. One to seek power, and one to teach it. One to eventually master it, and one to eventually die by it. That way, a strong Sith absolute in his power would always remain existent in the Galaxy. Always was it a step towards their ultimate goal for conquest.


But before that would come to fruition, Darth Tennacus would have to teach him. The energy, gathered ever so densely around his fingers, was used to demonstrate the alchemic mastery of Sith capability. Reaching his fingers over his face, the Sith Lord nailed his fingers down the length of his facial structure, descending from forehead to chin. In doing so, the Force guided his actions - his desire - to alter the structure of his face, taking on the facial aspects of someone very familiar to the apprentice. Like a boiling cauldron his flesh bubbled and writhed, curdling and hissing through the power of the Dark Side. In only a short moment, Darth Rhys was looking at himself.

And like a passing wind, a swipe of Tennacus' hand swept the uncanny resemblance clean off his face. Instead, his hand moved to his side, concentrating the Dark Side to the tips of his fingers, until at least they were wreathed in dark aura. From them poured waves of black wisps, dancing between the two Sith like trails of dark smoke drifting in sentience. The mass gathered in the centre of the hall, dancing and spiralling, hissing and whispering, until at last the two Sith beheld a wraith conjured of Dark Side energy. In the beginning, it struggled to manifest itself, collapsing on its own weight. But eventually the Force had guided it to fruition, and the black shadow rose greatly at a height in unison to Darth Rhys, adorning all his exterior physical attributes save for the features of his face.

Darth Tennacus begun to walk slowly around the exterior of the hall. "Sometimes you are your own greatest enemy. Do not fear the side of you that yearns for power. Fear the side of you that wishes to keep it only for himself. Hate it - despite it. Before it finds a way to slither into you and drag you down a path of failure you will never be able to walk back from."

If Darth Rhys possessed any hesitation, it would have been wise to quickly abandon it. The wraith did not share that same care. It had been summoned to kill him, and it would do so without hesitation, instigating its determination by a conjuration of Force Lightning from the tips of its ghostly digits.

"Learn to overpower it. Focus on it. Observe it. Fight fire with fire. The Dark Side will guide you if you focus yourself enough to listen to it. Learn to understand yourself better than you did before. Learn to manifest your hatred, your anger - your fears - and use them to strike down the enemy before you."

 

[Darth Senthral]

Mentions: Darth Tennacus

Awe was all that could be said for Darth Rhys’ features, but inside the mind was overwhelmed with curiosity. There was no hesitation though, a step back and lightsaber already in his right hand. Although he did not ignite it, not just yet, he felt for the Dark Side. He had done this before, he knew he had, when he slew his brother. That alighted in him regret, an emotion he could not avoid. His own kin, but there was no other choice. His brother had stood in his way, and offered no other choice. Then sadness came, and basked in anger. A spark alighted in his free hand, nothing grandeur, and yet a start. The spark writhed in his hand. As he writhed in his own emotions.

Yet his mind lay clouded, and he saw his brother in the wraith. He remembered his words falling on deaf ears, and a green cross guard saber igniting. His own ignited in his hands, and with it’s blue light shining, his eyes were cleared. He saw now the wraith, and felt a different hate for it. The hate for an enemy that would kill you. Simply put, the hate that brought out the survivor in one. He wanted to live more then this thing, even if it could want to live, he knew he did.

The spark that seemed a calm chaos in his hand now seemed to light anew. It spread to his finger tips and he launched it forth at the wraith. To his side his saber hand was ready to come up and deflect a counterattack from the wraith. His weakness? He knew not what it would do.

 

[Darth Tennacus]

Mentions: Darth Senthral


He was on the right path, in some respect. While Tennacus did not perceive the wraith to be his apprentice's deceased brother, he did feel the conflict of emotions stir towards a befallen kin. Emotions tied together told a story. Twisted the Force in a way one could only feel it's disturbance to understand what it was trying to tell. It was a start down the path of learning.

The duo lightning streaks between the wraith and the apprentice clashed between them. An electrical surge momentarily lit up the room, revealing the wraith in a brief chance of illumination. Its midnight cowl held about it nothing grand. It was a ragged, tattered adornment for the likes of something horrid. Its face was but a shadow, devoid of any features. But in its hands, something ignited anew. When the lightning quelled, in its hand bore a lightsaber, conjured up from the Force; a crimson pillar writhing unstably. Its glow was deep - almost exuding an aura which was dark. It had been conjured by the will of Darth Tennacus, and so it had adopted traits installed for its service in this training. Tennaucs had mastered the art of Form VII, and so the wraith reflected on its mastery, propelling itself off the ground in a sudden leap. It span wildly, directing the blade outwards as it hurled itself towards the apprentice before it, fuelled by a determination to kill him.

"Focus your rage," Tennacus intervened. "Your fear, your anger. The Dark Side fuels itself on your emotions. Command it. Materialise them. Fight fire with fire; conjure yourself a beast fuelled with hatred."

 

[Darth Senthral]

Listen an ye’ shall hear, and he was not deaf to his Master’s advice. First thing was first though, he brought up his saber in defense. However, could he be sure his saber and the wraith’s would even connect? Did he even have the time to raise one of his own? Yet naturally it seemed when he quickly raised his own phantom, fueled by fear he gained from his queries. It was construed and not fully imagined, and yet did not come apart when it’s blue saber came into contact with the wraith’s red. Staggered by the attack, his own phantom only just managed to bring the other saber downward with it’s own, in a sort of quick clinch struggle. Then it went for a left hook to his Master’s Creation’s nonexistent face. This was a way he knew, and in turn so did his wraith. Form VII, Vaapad was what he had honed in on in his Lightsaber Form Studies. As well as a simple mastery of Form I. The Basics. Everyone knew the basics, well all Jedi were taught it anyway.

The wraith he himself had made was now fueled now by more then fear, by his rage, by his hate for his enemy. It became clearer in this, still but a black phantom, but now in a way more solid. It was real, almost as much as the one it fended off. All his focus was on it, and he found himself a tinge amazed his Master maintained his seemingly without struggle. Though he could not know for sure if there was none, the master of a craft always made it look easy.

One thing was for sure in himself though, he had his emotions at his beckoning. He was not clouded by them as they fueled his creation. He felt clear, as if close to his ever sought freedom, and yet in that awe his focus remained on the battle at hand.

 

[Darth Tennacus]

Darth Tennacus had been walking rather slowly around the battle as it commenced. As much as he had command and focus on the wraith had had conjured up to battle, most of his focus had been strictly isolated towards the apprentice. Each fleeting emotion was recorded statistically. Every spike and decrease breathed new levels and adjustments. It was easy to tell someone to simply control their emotions. Never was it easy to force yourself to express them and maintain a steady line of thought. But Tennacus had suddenly stopped in his tracks curiously. His head lifted only inches, allowing him to see more clearly beyond the fabrics reaching down over his eyebrows. A disturbance in the Force had transpired. Within him, the apprentice had woken something.

Although monotonous in his reaction, Darth Tennacus thought a very specific way he didn't express when the apprentice materialised his own wraith. As quickly as it had manifested to take on the enemy before it, Tennacus withdrew his wraith in a swift retraction. As if tugged back by some unknown force, the wraith was propelled towards the other side of the hall, crashing into a lopsided pillar. It splattered against the ruined rock, releasing a ghastly bellow which cried out into the darkest corners of the building's halls. Candlelight swayed in struggle to maintain their flames upon burning wicks. A ghostly chill crept over them, breathing down their necks like the rasped breaths of Sith hounds. The apprentice had learned to convert his emotions - the Dark Side - into a weapon without even fighting. Sometimes it was wiser to be the man observing the battle, rather than be the man within one.

Darth Tennacus stepped back onto the circle, emerging from the shadows. His hands returned to their idle folds over one another against his chest. His gaze was narrow, dull, almost unreadable. "Very good," he complimented bluntly. "You have taken your first step down the path of the old Sith. But just as a tree possesses all its branches and leaves, the Dark Side of the Force has roots that grow deep." Tennacus slowly turned away, taking one last look at the beast conjured up by his apprentice. "Call off your beast."

Tennacus motioned away from his apprentice, approaching one of the high-mounted candles up over his head. He stared up into its flames, piercing through its hue, to the wall behind it.

"I will teach you all I know of the Sith sorcery. As ancient as it is, its talents have allowed many to achieve a power many more would consider quite unnatural. The Jedi like to believe we are agents of dark arts not meant for mortal kind. That we overstep our boundaries and try to reach heights we are not meant to reach. Emotion is only natural. Intertwining them with the Force is in our blood. When you look a flame, like this one, flickering before a solid wall, what does it cease to do?"

 

[Darth Senthral]

He watched the events that unfolded in silence, and dispelled his wraith when asked. It had taken some energy out of him, and yet he feigned being fine. He would surely learn to use the Dark Side with more efficiency. Even if it would never be simply put, easy. It was amazing though, what he could make with the Dark Forces. Unlike anything the Jedi taught him, after ripping him from his family. All the emotions he needed to wield brought out those previously repressed. However, when asked of the flame, he wasn’t sure.

This he did not know the answer to, it seemed simple. Like if he reached for it he could take the solution so easily in his hands. Yet he wasn’t sure, nonetheless there would be times like this to come. “I’m not sure Master. When you look upon a flame what does it cease doing? I can’t admit having thought upon it before.” That was true, and much as he thought upon it he came up with no answer. What would be the point of learning though if he had every answer? Even the simple.

 

[Darth Tennacus]

"Shadows," Darth Tennacus answered. "They cease to emit shadows. And a shadow can be a substantial tool to someone who knows how to use it." Tennacus turned away from the candle, returning his gaze to the apprentice. "Have you ever heard of a Force Shadow? I would imagine not. It's an old Dark Side form of magic. The user, if mastered, can meditate on the Force, allowing them to summon up a shadow from great differences. If you knew how to conceal the Dark Side, you could walk in the paths of your enemies, listening to anything and everything without them ever knowing. Uncertainty before a battle would provide you the ability to know the actions of your enemies before you even walk there. It will take great focus to conjure up a shadow for your eyes to see through on a planet halfway across the galaxy, but I will teach you to expand yourself."

The candles flickered, threatening to cease. A senseless wind moved across the hall; the Dark Side was noticeably stronger. Suddenly, the candles went out simultaneously. Darkness moved over the grounds. The silhouettes of the Sith stood out in the growing shadow.

"Close your eyes," Tennacus ordered. "I want you to focus on one place - any place. A place you might have remembered as a child. A place you remember a terrible suffering. Think back on that one memory. Remember what you felt. Where you were standing. How the air felt on your skin. What do you see?"

 

[Darth Senthral]

His eyes were closed shortly after the instructions. He first took in the knowledge of the answer, it was obvious really. A shadow ceased to be when your own overtook it. It was obvious, and yet common sense was never a strong suit of his. He took in the knowledge of another power he might acquire as well, it was after-all something of amazement. There was much of the Dark Side he didn’t know, but it seemed what he was to learn was beyond even what he could have imagined. These thoughts flew by in a flurry, they had to, as not to disturb the next lesson he was to be taught.

Memories overflowed him shortly. Green eyes, like piercing blades of grass through his soul. Red hair, like flames alight with panicked confusion. At the betrayal of his own chosen kin. This was his brother, Akimill, the Jedi he had killed. The landmark of a memory that sent him spiraling on this path. It was a necessary step, and one he wouldn’t change if he could. Killing his own brother, it was weird to think of it that way. However, the truth was a-times odd. The wind blew their cloaks in the wind, of course it was storming, the weather was the most dramatic thing at times. It was night, and the clouds blocked the moon and coated them in darkness, the rain seemingly drowning the two. His brother and himself. The only light was from their sabers, blue and green at odds. It was a quick and decisive battle, more of a hunt, a clean kill. There was only two strikes it seemed. Him striking his brother with a flash of blue, and brother striking the ground, cold and dead.

“I feel the wind blow hard, and the rain harder. I feel rage, at words fallen on deaf ears. The night I killer my own brother, we were no real brothers. We were bound by our own choice, in a way that makes it worse. The family you choose is far more important then that you are born with. I feel sadness, and even a bit of regret when I slay him. Yet I wouldn’t go back and change it if I was capable. I saw my saber flow from the air to across his chest, and I see him fall. That is all, so little time, yet so much occurs. Perhaps in reality it is not much in terms of quantity, but the weight of a life taken makes it seem so. The weight of my own family lost, by these hands, by the actions this mind chose.” It flowed from him, as the memories themselves were taking life. As they had instilled themselves in him, that stormy night.

 

[Darth Tennacus]

Sometimes to read a person through the force was like sipping through a cocktail. Sometimes if you closed your eyes, you could count the flavours as they exploded on your tongue. Allowed you to identity theft beverage swirling around behind your lips. Sometimes the Force worked the same way. A cocktail of emotions which told a story. The apprentice didn’t have to tell him; like a serpent, Tennacus could taste it within the air.

“Good,” the Sith Lord spoke. “Let your emotions guide you. The rage, the hate, the fulfilment of completing your goal. Deep down, you wanted it. So bent on it that the Force guided you to make your choice. Let it guide you again now. Feel the very ground beneath you. Picture yourself now, listening to the present. Picture your mind drifting through the sea of the Dark Side through the stars. You are a shadow standing in that very same spot, only it is not a memory. It is you, standing there now, and it is also not you. A shadowy guise of your making. It’s eyes are yours. It’s ears are yours. You are not here, and yet you are. You are not there, and yet you are. Make your shadow absolute there. Let yourself be in two places at once, watching everything. The darkness is yours to control. Make yourself a shadow from it worlds apart from your place here.”

 

[Darth Senthral]

Darth Rhys knew his Master’s words to ring true before the hit his ears. The resignation setlling, and reigning in the anger, the sadness, and the hatred. It all became a tempered rage. He imagined as told, and drew blanks, and then shortly he was a shadow among the stars. It did not last, as soon he was a shadow on the planet he had trained. He could not name it, they moved too much when he was younger, were they in hiding? How had he never realized that? Though he could not name this place, he knew he’d been there before. He stared forward at where once he trained side by side his brother. It was blurry, the regret perhaps ruined his controlled rage. He did have to kill him. There was naught to regret. Except perhaps his brother not being born stronger, or a greater listener. Those were things free from his control.

Things cleared, and he now stared at a torn apart camp grounds. It could have been signs of running, or perhaps it was just a swift exit. From one planet to the next. He was grasping at straws and could not remember the Jedi he was with. Only the bigger picture, and the smaller things. They were strict, and very stringent in their ideology. Classic Jedi that have their own ranks abandon them and are left wondering why. He suddenly realized, that as his Master said he was almost the Shadow. It was as if it took up his own being, and yet did not. He was there, and yet not. He was also here, still before Darth Tennacus. Still Darth Rhys, and yet this shadow on another planet as well. “I’ve done it Master. It is not easy to uphold this shadow, though I would mot have expected it to be.” Simple words.

 

[Darth Tennacus]

Darth Senthral

Tennacus observed in utter focus. His steps slowly carried him towards his apprentice, ever cautious in his motion. Arms folded at his chest, he posed no immediate danger to the Sith ahead of him; and yet, the Force was disturbed. Not twisted, but conflicted — tense. Suspicious. Tennacus’ motions had all the likeness of a prowling predator, cautiously sneaking upon its prey to enact assault.

The Sith Lord slowly unfolded one of his arms. Beneath his cowl, his fingers slithered around the sturdy cylinder of metal tucked within the fabric. If his apprentice was attuned, he might have sensed it; Tennacus hoped that he would. His fingers tightened around the metal, releasing it from its slumber. He was but steps away from his apprentice, and within dangerous reach through other means. Training often demanded distraction. Tennacus saw to delivering that.

The crimson blade ejected from its hilt in one swift stroke. Its hum reverberated through the air, closing in upon the Sith’s apprentice. If he was not focused on the here and now, it would hit him. If he was not attuned to his senses, it would kill him.

 

[Darth Senthral]

The demand was high, to be in two places at once, and yet he was maintaining it. Though his eyes were closed, his other senses were at work. There was danger to his real self, he felt it. It came as no surprise when he heard a saber sound on, and yet before he even heard it his position had changed. The crimson saber missed him by a hair, and his own alighted. The blue saber met right under the crimson. They crackled, close enough almost to touch.

“This is to be in two places at once. If I were only there, then how could I know better before it was all over. We are Sith after-all, and I am not so trustful as a Jedi. Not anymore. I can’t afford to be. Correct?” Question arose on his face.

The shadow had been maintained. It stared forth at the camp that used to be. He stared forth at the camp that use to be. Real in both places, and yet solid in one. Fascinating. It’s uses already flew through his mind, numerous. Scouting, the enemy, and supposed allies being one.

 

[Darth Tennacus]

Darth Senthral


Tennacus did not flinch to let the 'sabers fall against one another. In that same moment they had clashed, crimson and aqua erupting in a noise of static from two opposing energy sources. The lasers pulsed wildly, each straining themselves against the other, emanating such colourful vistas. The respiratory noises of Tennacus' breathing apparatus elevated as he stood behind his crimson blade, holding its position. Vistas exploded in reflections of red and blue within his eyes. He did not look like a man who looked to harbour mercy in the heat of battle. Maybe the Force exuded his tenacity for such combat.

"To be in two places at once is to ensure you do not allow your focus to slip on both ends. As far away from an enemy as you are, one can always hail from unknown sources, and set itself upon you when you are most exposed. Believe that eyes are always observing you, and you will never succumb to the surprise of a blade coursing its way into your back."

Experience drove such words. Maybe one day, Tennacus would reveal such faults that had led him to be so cautious. For now, he concluded the strokes of their lightsabers by withdrawing his. The crimson blade retracted into the hilt, and silence of static quickly moved upon them.

"What can you tell me about your brother?"

 

[Darth Senthral]

Darth Tennacus

His own saber retracted shortly after the encounter, and was once more stowed away. His heart beat fast, to be in the presence of a Master that would take your life if required. That was the danger of these lessons, and yet he would not fall to them, not so soon. Not ever if he had his way. Not at the cost of his own life at the very least. For doing so would prove he was not worthy of the knowledge and power bestowed upon him. There was no failing, none allowed, not after he had come this far. Not before he went farther.

For a second in silence he took in the lesson. Thoughts of it’s importance, even through it’s danger, more so because of that. One day he might kill this man, he could not believe it was any day near. Yet one day it would come nonetheless. One day this man could kill him, one had to become stronger. That was the reality of how it worked, he knew of this the Rule of Two. Unsurprisingly he had done his research. Knew more than the average Jedi Master would. That was for sure. Especially now. Soon words came.

“My own kin. By choice perhaps, but as I’ve said… to me that carried far more weight. It still does. Yet it was necessity to kill him. I had to, in a way as you’ve said, I wanted to. I freed him. From those ideals we were taken from our families and made to follow. From the one’s he could not see past, blinded by them for so long. In that respect I consider myself fortunate. He was a Diplomat by nature if you wish to know of him. An open person, nothing of himself to hide, and so he was better at reading people. When one has no secrets they can dedicate themselves to understanding others he used to say. Yet he could not understand me. He could not understand power. In that way the Light Side clouded his mind where it is believed the Dark Side should have clouded mine. He thought he could solve every problem with his mouth, till he met the unsolvable. Then payed his life for it.”