The Thorns Begin to Grow

[Rose Kuhn]

[member="Vrag"]

Rose stood quietly in the center of a massive oppressive building.

The Sith Temple on Coruscant had never been her favorite place in the galaxy. Her mother had taken her here often to teach her things about the Sith, she had never liked it. Not because of the encroaching feelings of the darkside, not because of the swirls of oppressive power that radiated from the structure, but because of the people within it.

Rose didn't like the One Sith.

She found them to be blind and arrogant little sheep, following the word of a Dark Lord that was never seen.

Most of them were nothing to her, most of them were little less than dogs on a leash, but not all. There were a few, a certain few that she had met in passing, or her mother had introduced her to. They were different. They saw things differently, acted differently. It was they who Rose wanted to see, speak to. They had lessons worth learning.

Her life had taken a turn, Mother and Father had left her, Lily was focusing more and more on Koros and its growth, and she had been introduced to...well not a new life, but certainly a new brand of living.

Before she took that path however, before she was able to take that fork in the road, she would have to become stronger, more powerful.

Which is why she was here.

 

[Vrag]

Early morning was one of the rare occasions when one could encounter an unarmored Vrag. Most people didn't even recognize her outside of her work clothes, and truth be told, the woman preferred it that way. However ego-stroking it was to see people move out of the way in deference and fear, nothing quite beat some peace and quiet in the wee hours before sunrise. No gawking, no officer rambling off reports into her ear, nobody to break over her knee… just a woman and her body, enjoying a few miles of light running before the whole planet came to life.

It was a little over six hundred hours when the firrerreo returned to the Temple, her silvery skin covered with a thin sheen of sweat. After downing a whole bottle of cool water — half of which never found its way to her mouth — Vrag made her way into the training chambers where a disgruntled teenager would be waiting for her; well, if Rose knew what was good for her, at least. Recognizable or not, she was still the Hand of the Dark Lord, and she didn't take to insubordination very well.

She slipped through the doors with silent steps, her bare feet making nary a sound as they met the grainy surface of the training mats.

"You're here," she remarked, a hint of surprise in her voice as she gave the redhead a once-over. The line of her mouth curled downwards ever so slightly as she took note of the girl's wiry frame and poor stance. All things she'd have to teach her. How thrilling.

"Grab your preferred weapon and show me your best."

[member="Rose Kuhn"]​

 

[Rose Kuhn]

[member="Vrag"]

Rose was a girl of few words.

Her sister, Lily, was known as the talkative one. Always having an angle, always loving the sound of her own voice. Lily did enough talking for the both of them. Rose acknowledged that, and she accepted it. Her mother had taught her much, and so had her father, but neither of them had ever really understood the benefit of being silent.

Rose had.

Without argument or objection Rose did as she was told.

From her belt she pulled her two lightsabers, both with a curved hilt. She spun the hilts in her palms quickly, righting both of the weapons and letting them loosely sit in the crook of her hand. Her thumb slid across the switch, and one of the blades jumped into life with a bright red surge. The other remained off, though she maintained a loose grip on the weapon itself.

This was how her mother had taught her to fight, or rather, how she had chosen to learn. Two lightsabers, though only one active at time.

She stalled for a moment more, gazing at her teacher and trying to find a weak point. Rose shifted on the balls of her heels, her body swaying slightly, then she dashed forward. A single arching slash towards the woman's upper thighs.

 

[Vrag]

The Sith Lord eyed the short girl with impassive eyes and a blank expression, feigning disinterest even as her attention was focused on the redhead. The woman was acutely aware of everything that was happening in every heartbeat of time — always the way she measured it during battle — her senses free to spread out for once. It was quite exhilarating, really, not being blinded by the Vonduun coiled around her body, and the woman narrowly suppressed a laugh as she backstepped easily.

The Acolyte was telegraphing her attacks, as was typical for those without proper practice, and the battle-honed warrior had little trouble avoiding the slashes and thrusts. She would dance with the girl across the room for a couple of minutes, assessing her stance, her form and her technique. At some point she picked up a vibroblade from the rack against the wall as they moved past it, brandishing the weighted weapon with a small curl to the edges of her lips.

"Enough," she said simply after a few more parries and dodges, keeping her guard up just in case.

"Now tell me what you did wrong," the firrerreo requested, her icy eyes boring into the similar gentler blue of the girl's eyes. There was nothing better than instilling self-criticism in the fighter as early as possible, and even though it was perhaps a little late for that sort of thing, it didn't mean Vrag wouldn't try. With any luck, [member="Rose Kuhn"] wasn't your typical spoiled Sith child — bursting with arrogance and a bloated sense of self-importance — and was capable of assessing her mistakes with a degree of objectivity and clarity.

If not… well, the Hand of the Dark Lord would be happy to offer her insights with little embellishment.

 

[Rose Kuhn]

[member="Vrag"]

Luckily, all of Rose' self importance had gone to her sister, Lily.

When asked what her faults were, Rose simply stared at the Sith Lord. She tried to play back the battle in her mind, tried to rewind and think of all the things she had done wrong. It seemed to her that Vrag had simply danced circles around her. The woman had been lithe and agile, as if she had read every single movement that Rose had been about to make.

She found herself with a white knuckle grip on her lightsaber hilts.

Her teeth gnashed together, lips parting slightly as a frustrated tongue pierced passed her teeth. “I was too obvious, not fast enough, my stance slipped, and I grew frustrated.”

Short terse words flicked off the viper like tongue, retreating almost immediately as if the words had stung like a whip. It hurt to admit her failures, her faults, but her mother had taught her that doing so was important, especially in this environment. How was she to learn if she thought herself already the best? Vrag was here to teach, to tear down and build anew.

She couldn't do that if Rose lied.

 

[Vrag]

She gave a small nod at the accurate self-assessment that the girl gave — tinged with frustration as it was — and instructed the Acolyte to put away her lightsabers, having her pick up a vibroblade of her own instead. The weight of a material sword was wont to teach the redhead that every movement, however small, transferred over to the weapon, oft giving away an incoming attack with little more but a twist of the wrist.

Annoying? Certainly. But if one dedicated enough care and time to the minimization of such gestures, the payoff was immense. It helped when a layer of clothing and armor obscured the flex of muscle and the traitorous tensing of tendons, but a skilled duelist could spot a tell if it existed, so it was better to do away with them altogether.

"Practice with the training droids," Vrag spoke, her voice even as she stepped to the side, giving the girl enough room to play. "Then tell me where the lightsaber and a solid sword differ."

Facing an opponent was a source of priceless knowledge regarding their fighting style, that was obvious, but there were also mistakes that she would spot much more easily if she merely observed the girl while the Kuhn spawn battled the drones.


[member="Rose Kuhn"]

 

[Rose Kuhn]

[member="Vrag"]

She frowned.

A sword?

Rose had used a sword before, though never extensively. Mom had forged a sword, the Kuhn family legacy she had called it. The blade was sharp as could be and near indestructible. Rose had played with it often as a younger child, though the blade had been too heavy for her to really do anything with it. When she had started her training in earnest she had abandoned the sword in favor of her lightsabers.

For a moment she simply stared at Vrag, then nodded.

It wouldn't do to disobey.

She shifted, her lightsabers finding their place once again in the leather straps on the small of her back. Slowly she wandered over towards the weapons rack, grasping the Vibrosword and turning towards then turning towards the training droids. She spun the blade, shifting its weight in her palm and steadying the blade.

What followed was a steady flurry of combat.

The silver length of the vibrosword glistened and gleamed, it shifted and changed, bouncing and sparking against the training droids until Rose was covered in a thin layer of sweat and her arm grew too tired to hold the weight of the blade. It was then that one of the droids struck, reaching out and bashing her in the face.

She reeled, collapsing onto the floor with a thud.

 

[Vrag]

The Hand of the Dark Lord stood on the sidelines, noting absently how her body was cooling down nicely from the morning run, muscles thrumming slightly with the warm blood as her eyes stayed fixated on the movements of the girl.

The redhead was quick on her feet, lithe and agile like any natural born killer, but that was to be expected, considering who her mother was. Vrag only vaguely remembered meeting the blonde, related to some expedition on a planet whose only remarkable features were ass-freezing temperatures and Sithspawn that could eat you whole. Funtimes.

Still, she had more pressing matters to attend to at the moment; like the fact that her current charge had just gotten pommel pummeled by one of the droids.

With a sneer to her lips, the firrerreo pushed herself away from the wall and threw the robotic attacker into his companion with a sharp snap of the wrist, calling to the Force much more easily than all those years ago. She'd once been standing where Rose now lay sprawled and supine on the thick mats, and hopefully the girl would rise to her feet once more. Giving up wasn't a concept Vrag accepted during training, but the redhead seemed willful. Now to see whether or not looks were deceiving in her case.

She stopped beside the girl on the floor, flexing the muscles of her forearm so that the blurred, vibrating edge of her blade hovered mere millimeters away from the thin neck of the Acolyte. The woman cocked her head to the side with a curious expression on her face, as if she were contemplating cutting that throat just to see what would happen. Absurd, of course; Vrag knew very well what a slit trachea looked like, in many variations and iterations.

"Dead," she stated instead, jerking the sword back up. "You expend too much energy. Never count that a fight will last as long as you think it will. The battlefield is unpredictable."

A small pause followed as the Hand of the Dark Lord appraised the girl again, then motioned her to get up.

"Leave the vibroblade. We're going running."


[member="Rose Kuhn"]

 

[Rose Kuhn]

[member="Vrag"]

For a second Rose simply lay on the ground.

She had never been threatened like that before.

Sure her mother had sometimes been harsh in their training, and sometimes she had ended up with some bruises and cuts, but she had never been threatened like that. Her skin crawled, and she felt goosebumps raising up on the back of her neck as she forcefully subdued a shake that threatened to run throughout her body.

Bright blue glaciers sailed after Vrag for a moment as the woman left, Rose's head shaking slightly as if she was unsure of this training.

She wanted to get stronger, she knew that, but was she willing to risk death at the hands of a madwoman? For a moment the daughter of Titan had to consider, her eyes shifting and her hand closing into a tight fist as she thought of what failure would mean. Her eyes folded closed and she bit her tongue, pushing herself to her feet and chasing after Vrag.

Rose had a promise to keep.

 

[Vrag]

She made no remark when the girl caught up with her, for there was no need. There was a time for chastising and reprimand, but it wasn't now; punishment — in whichever form it was delivered — had little effect if it was doled out constantly and without good reason. The redhead would learn her lesson eventually, or fail trying. Vrag would hardly need to add to that.

Once they stood side by side, the woman gave her charge one last once-over, wondering if the thin girl could keep up with her tempo. She'd heard a thing or two about the daughter of Titan over the years, and her blood was clearly a show of promise, but all of that mattered little if the body wasn't trained properly. Those gifted with the ability to manipulate the Force often grew too reliant on the mysterious power, neglecting the more physical side of combat training. And once the Force refused to cooperate; once its wielder became too tired to brandish its power… then the proper practice made the difference between life and death.

Without further ado, the firrerreo found purchase on the warm duracrete surrounding the temple and set off at an easy pace — well, easy for her standards, at least — relishing the tense-and-release of her muscles each time she took another step. There was more to the running than mere conditioning; it was an exercise meant to free the girl. One of the pitfalls of intense dueling training was forgetting there was anything else outside that one opponent facing you with their blade bared, and on a battlefield, you'd be hard-pressed to find a spot for such an isolated bout. It meant that a devoted duelist had to forcibly keep themselves open, drag themselves out of that dangerous mentality and keep a clear, level outlook.

Difficult? Certainly, but far from impossible.


[member="Rose Kuhn"]

 

[Rose Kuhn]

[member="Vrag"]

Running?

What were they a loose herd of cattle? She wanted to argue, but ultimately knew that doing so would be futile. Rose was sure that Vrag knew what she was doing, that the woman had a purpose behind everything she showed Rose and everything she told her to do. What the purpose was was difficult to ascertain, but it was best not to question it.

Not now anyway.

Her legs slowly started moving, her hair tossing behind her head, her arms stuck to her side. She had often run with her sister when they were young. The gardens of the Kuhn Estate had been filled with their laughter as they chased one another.

She supposed this was no different, though less playful. Her already tired body pushed itself, following after Vrag and keeping pace with the older woman even as her leg muscles began to ache.

Hours of training and the fighting she had already done today had made her tired, and a weary look of creeping agony began to encroach upon her face as the two Sith ran around the Sith Temple.

 

[Vrag]

It would've been a comical sight for sure, the Hand of the Dark Lord trekking alongside an Acolyte in the earily morning, were it not so common. When the woman took off her armor, when she took of that horned mask — an occasion growing ever the rarer with each passing month — hardly anybody recognized who they were talking to, and Vrag reveled in the odd anonymity lent to her by the act.

It allowed for an unusual sort of relaxation, allowed her to step out of her boots every once in a while and walk among the rest of the Sith without the crowd parting like a certain sea before a certain legendary prophet in another time and space.

In that same vein, the woman grew ever more peaceful — ironically enough — with each lap they completed, focusing on the thrum of her pulse and the small reverberations that would travel up her muscles each time her feet connected with the worn ground. She was unheeding — but not oblivious — of the sideways looks shot at them by the occasional passerby, choosing to revel in the simplicity of the moment instead. It would alleviate the weight that rested on her shoulders at any given time of day, if only for a few fleeting moments, so that the woman herself could forget who she was and what she did in the space of a few breaths.

Then the laps were completed, and the Hand of the Dark Lord slowly stopped to catch her breath again.

"Do this every day, morning and evening. All skill is useless if you can't last in a fight."


[member="Rose Kuhn"]

 

[Rose Kuhn]

[member="Vrag"]

On the verge of collapse Rose barely managed to catch her breath.

Normally running that far wouldn't have been an issue. It would have tired her out, sure, but it wouldn't have made her muscles ache and her legs shake. Yet she had been training the entire day. She had been fighting droids, Vrag, and herself for more than a few hours now. Every muscle in her body seemed to be screaming at her.

Heavy breaths folded into her lungs, escaping and then returning.

She felt like she was about to fall over. A ringing in her ear sounded, only to turn into the words of her Master a moment later.

Rose nodded, understanding. It would take time to get used to that, time and rest, but she could do it. The fire within her had not yet burned out. She still wanted to learn, still wanted to become the best. Her hands tightened on her knees, her eyes closed, and she took a deep breath. She repeated the process, once, twice, then a third time.

Her body shifted and she looked up at Vrag. “What's next?”

 

[Vrag]

Air returned to her lungs quickly enough, and Vrag reveled in that ache pulsing against her diaphragm with each intake of breath. Her cool blue eyes left the duracrete beneath their feet to come rest on the hunched figure of the Acolyte. She watched in silence as the girl recuperated, her frame heaving as she struggled to catch her breath.

She remembered the feeling, and remembered it well, thousands upon thousands of hours of the burning sensation in her chest, of limbs that begged for forgiveness, that begged for an end which never came. Vrag glanced down her own body, absently noting the thin layer of sweat covering the pale skin stretched over the toned muscles beneath.

"Next you go take a long warm shower," she replied simply, meeting the gaze of the shorter redhead. "No point in breaking your body."

There was value in rigorous training, but destroying a fighter before they had a chance to evolve was not something Vrag would call efficient, and tormenting people with no purpose was hardly in her repertoire. She wasn't evil, she was merely… pragmatic.

[member="Rose Kuhn"]

 

[Rose Kuhn]

[member="Vrag"]

Rose stood silent for a moment, then nodded.

Rest.

Rest and sleep sounded heavenly right now. She could sleep for days, and lay in bed for months. Yet she knew that it wasn't an option. Tomorrow they would begin again, and more training would be had. It would be the cycle for days, perhaps months to come. She would train, she would fight, and she would grow in power. A smile twitched at her lips, even as she felt the burning sensation of her muscles.

Strength.

It was what she was after, it was what she wanted. Power in the force, finesse with her lightsabers. She needed that. She needed to surpass her mother, eclipse her sister, she needed to become more powerful. It was what Rose wanted, needed, and Vrag would help her get it.