Amaethon
Active Member
Closing the door behind him, Amaethon stepped into his private quarters. With both hands he threw back the cowl of his robes and he stepped before the lone mirror. For a moment, he looked on his masked reflection, the faceless torturer. Then using his hands again, he slowly revealed the truth.
There it was, the pallid face, burned and scarred like something out of a child's nightmare; or an adult's for that matter. He allowed himself to see through the eye in which he still could. For the other was milk-white with a long scar above and below. He loosened his robes and cast them aside onto his bed.
On his throat, a thick scar where it had been cut some ten years ago. It had compromised much of his speaking ability. He could still feel the boiling water searing his skin, remember his worldless howls of pain. He could remember the blackness settling upon his vision, sweet Death. The Acolyte drew in a shuddering, ragged breath as the pain and the hate surged inside of him. He had suffered from abuse, neglect, poverty, mutilation and he had spent the last ten years revisiting his pain on as many beings as he could.
The shelves rattled and the mirror cracked before he could gain control again. He turned when he heard a thump. A leather-bound book had fallen on the floor a d he reached out a hand, levitating the volume to him. Ah, he thought, this one. This particular book he had...acquired some months ago, feeling a faint echo of the Dark Side about it.
He opened to a random page, and there in handwritten basic, the Code of fhe Sith.
" Peace is a lie, there is only passion." He read aloud in his raspy whisper. The beginning line of the Code was also the beginning of his training. Every initiate learned these words, etching them into their very soul. To know the Code, to truly understand, was to know the Dark Side itself. To know the Dark Side was to know the whole of everything.
He turned to another page and he read the writings of the anonymous Dark Sider. Unlike most scholars, the author had included very little information on themself. All they would say was that they had once followed the Jedi Code and came to see the truth of the Dark Side. This page contained the following thoughts:
'To torture, to cause suffering and kill are all acts associated with the Dark Side. However, to commit these acts without purpose is beneath a true Sith. These are merely acts of wanton cruelty any small child can visit upon the meanest of creatures. A Sith does not kill merely to do so, for they have reason.'
The Acolyte paused, digesting these words. He had savoured the suffering he had created, enjoying the anguish and agony of the screams. Were these truly the acts of a spiteful child? He moved to his desk, and once he sat, he read on....
There it was, the pallid face, burned and scarred like something out of a child's nightmare; or an adult's for that matter. He allowed himself to see through the eye in which he still could. For the other was milk-white with a long scar above and below. He loosened his robes and cast them aside onto his bed.
On his throat, a thick scar where it had been cut some ten years ago. It had compromised much of his speaking ability. He could still feel the boiling water searing his skin, remember his worldless howls of pain. He could remember the blackness settling upon his vision, sweet Death. The Acolyte drew in a shuddering, ragged breath as the pain and the hate surged inside of him. He had suffered from abuse, neglect, poverty, mutilation and he had spent the last ten years revisiting his pain on as many beings as he could.
The shelves rattled and the mirror cracked before he could gain control again. He turned when he heard a thump. A leather-bound book had fallen on the floor a d he reached out a hand, levitating the volume to him. Ah, he thought, this one. This particular book he had...acquired some months ago, feeling a faint echo of the Dark Side about it.
He opened to a random page, and there in handwritten basic, the Code of fhe Sith.
" Peace is a lie, there is only passion." He read aloud in his raspy whisper. The beginning line of the Code was also the beginning of his training. Every initiate learned these words, etching them into their very soul. To know the Code, to truly understand, was to know the Dark Side itself. To know the Dark Side was to know the whole of everything.
He turned to another page and he read the writings of the anonymous Dark Sider. Unlike most scholars, the author had included very little information on themself. All they would say was that they had once followed the Jedi Code and came to see the truth of the Dark Side. This page contained the following thoughts:
'To torture, to cause suffering and kill are all acts associated with the Dark Side. However, to commit these acts without purpose is beneath a true Sith. These are merely acts of wanton cruelty any small child can visit upon the meanest of creatures. A Sith does not kill merely to do so, for they have reason.'
The Acolyte paused, digesting these words. He had savoured the suffering he had created, enjoying the anguish and agony of the screams. Were these truly the acts of a spiteful child? He moved to his desk, and once he sat, he read on....