Author's Notes: Well, I had promised a final chapter to the tale of my own character Dante Ravenmoon, and here it is. For everyone who has reviewed Catharsis and Way of the Force, I'd like to thank you all, and I'd like to thank those who became caught up with Catharsis and began to like this strange, if not idealic character. I don't know for what reasons some of you may like him, or the portrayal of other signature characters, but what I know is that Dante has evolved to a level beyond my own understanding--and this is just through a trio of stories that really are poorly written next to the general outline of KOTOR. The stories are based on the background of everything that has transpired in the games, ranging from the Mandalorian Wars to just shortly after KOTOR II: The Sith Lords. In either case, if anyone is just looking for a story that started off cobbled together by the random machinations of some guy's twisted mind, then by all means, read this. No matter what, you all have my thanks at helping me take my writing this far. Don't be afraid to leave a review or two--it only helps me grow as a writer and improve the quality of entertainment for everyone here.
This is just a general rundown of the whole story so far: in Way of the Force, Darth Malak's war machine was beating back the Jedi and the Republic. A handful of Jedi are sent on a mission to recover a lost artifact that eventually ends up being the apple of a mysterious Sith's eye. Through several fateful encounters, Dante Ravenmoon, a young Jedi Knight eventually confronts this mysterious Sith, who, in turn, reveals himself to be none other than someone from Dante's past, once thought lost to the Mandalorian Wars. It is in this encounter that he also finds the love of another, one who begins to help him find his way and eventually start him down the path that he falls into by Catharsis. It follows the last year of the Jedi Civil War.
In Catharsis, Dante, along with a battered Council, finds themselves struggling from the aftermath of not only the Jedi Civil War, but the Silent War waged by the Sith Lords Nihilus and Sion. While training his Padawan, a mysterious young woman named Rena Naver, Dante stumbles onto the beginnings of a war being waged by one of their own. Consumed by his demons, the Jedi Knight continues to fight for what he believes is the key to ending the age-old hatreds between the Jedi and the Sith. In the process, the truth and origins of his apprentice begin to gnaw at him and as time grows on, the Sith reveal themselves, attempting to destroy not only the infrastructure of the Republic, but those who would hold the Republic strong against the power of the Sith. With unlikely new allies and old enemies, Dante finds himself assailed by all corners, inexorably finding the grim truth behind the Exile and Revan's disappearance.
Now the Jedi Knight finds that he has to walk a fine line between Light and Dark, fighting to preserve everything he's worked so hard to build. Renouncing his Jedi oath and taking up arms to search for Revan, the Exile and someone whom he cares most about, Dante may end up taking the Mantle of Dark Lord, unless he can find the misplaced strength he had in order to carry out the final task asked of him...
Star Wars
Knights of the Old Republic II
The Final Waltz
Prologue
Their blades clashed against each other, one brilliant emerald and the other a furious ruby, both of which cut a swath of light through the night sky. The sound of crackling energy and grunts of effort echoed into the night sky.
She watched him work his blade around her defences and she took careful measurements, blocking and deflecting the thrusts and flurries he delivered unto her.
Rena didn't know who the mysterious figure was, though she knew only the danger he possessed.
His scarlet blade arced up and came crashing down on her lightsaber, sparking and whining with the touch of energy on energy.
"You can't win," she cried, her muscles weary and her body sore from the fight that had seemed to last what seemed an eternity. "You'll find that my powers vastly outweigh your own and I will strike you down."
The figure laughed, strafing back and twirling his lightsaber in a figure eight. "You can try," he retorted, his voice cold and mirthless. "But it would be the doorway to your own death. You can't beat me—I have experience and skill on my side. Just relying on the raw power of the Force isn't what you'll need to save you."
She wiped her sweat soaked face, clad in a sleeveless tunic that was fixed with a belt and her formfitting breeches. Her attire matched his, though he was obscured in complete black. He wore a cloak as dark as the night itself that billowed and seemed to draw in all of the light surrounding it. It billowed around him, seemingly with a mind of its own, and where it didn't cover his body, she could only make out the signs of obsidian armour that seemed to petrify anything in its wake.
"You're growing weary," he continued, his voice deep and filled with a cold fury that seemed to grow continuously through the Force.
Rena could feel her body growing tired, though she knew better. He was trying to trick her, and though his insidious presence seemed repulsive, it also seemed alluring in a strange way.
There was something familiar about the way he walked, yet alien in the way he spoke and fought.
There seemed to be hints drawn about his body, and though she couldn't make it out, she readied her lightsaber, knowing he'd come in for another bout of flurries and strikes that could send her back.
He was telling the truth: her abilities were no match for him.
"Are you ready to meet your fate, Rena?" He asked her, stepping closer towards her, causing her to take an involuntary step back and nearly tripping for the effort.
It was only now that she realized where she was.
The world around her seemed to teem in darkness absolute, with strange creatures and the twisted side of nature that seemed to allow plant growth all over their field of battle. A strange murky fog seemed to creep between them, leaving them to stare at one another with the anticipation of who would strike first.
She tried to peer into the dark shadows that his hood covered, but she couldn't make out anything. Even through the Force he felt alien—almost as if he were artificial. Recoiling in the Force, she couldn't help but feel repulsed.
The dark allure of the Force seemed to wrap itself around him and reach out carefully, its tendrils slithering across the field towards her.
Readying her lightsaber, she lunged, driving her blade towards his chest, to which he quickly deflected, leaving her to pirouette and slash at his neck.
His blade seemed to greet hers effortlessly, and his movements seemed to almost welcome her to continue her attacks.
Crying out, she kept up her onslaught of ruthless flurries and cleaves, hoping to find a break in his impregnable defences.
With one hand he continued to roll his lightsaber, blocking and parrying her slashes and thrusts to one side, until he lashed out with writhing blue energy from his right hand.
Caught off-guard, she absorbed the blue tendrils of electricity and screamed as she flew back towards an abnormally large tree, colliding against the thick trunk and gasping for air. On her knees and hands, she coughed violently, panting heavily, until she looked up and saw his foot slam into her face, sending her rolling.
For the abuse she took, she couldn't help but find surprise in that she still had her lightsaber in hand. Rising, she growled and reactivated the energy blade, jumping into another array of deadly flurries that would overwhelm any normal opponent.
This dark man, however, was no ordinary opponent. He seemed to read her movements, knew exactly when to strike and seemed to stand against her natural strength in the Force.
For all intents and purposes, Rena found the dark man to be beyond her own strength, just as he had said. She very well found herself wondering whether the man was truly a Sith Master or some creature beyond the Force itself.
He deflected each strike, pirouetting with each thrust she made, his dark cloak billowing around him, almost as if it fought as one with the dark being.
"It is useless to resist," he said. "Give up now, and I might yet show you mercy."
Growling, she continued to assail him relentlessly, her lightsaber weaving arcs of emerald light that tore through the dark flora and fauna around her, yet placing not a single wound on the powerful figure.
"Yes," he hissed, deflecting her blade and twisting the angle of both blades until they were locked. "Use your anger, strike me down and feel the power of the Dark Side call to you. This is but the first step—a small taste of the Dark Side!"
Mustering all her strength, she continued to hold on to the lock, struggling with him, her eyes locked with the infinite darkness beneath the hood.
"Accept it—you are like the father!"
Snarling, she lashed out with the Force and sent him hurling towards a tree, colliding with it and quickly rising to his feet.
She heard him laugh a deep grating laugh that pierced her heart.
"You have strength and the power to defeat those around you. Your father used it, and now you can use it, unless your fear masters you?"
"I am not like him!" She yelled, her knuckles turning bone white from the grip she held on her blade. "I am nothing like him!"
The voice continued to bellow with laughter. "So why do you fear me so readily? You are turning to the same anger he has. You are every bit like your father—the progenitor Revan. You have his strength, his looks, and his temper."
Growling with blind fury, she lashed out again, her lightsaber whirling around her, forming a deadly barrier of energy that eviscerated anything in its wake.
He continued to keep up his defence, blocking her strikes and her powerful combinations of slashes and thrusts.
"I am nothing like him! I will never be like him!" She cried with each and every strike, unwittingly pushing the mysterious figure back.
"Perhaps you're right," he replied, "perhaps you're weak and a failure!"
She whipped her lightsaber around her, quickly snapping back and knocking his lightsaber away. Seizing the moment, she arced her blade upwards and in moments, smelled the gratifying scent of burned flesh.
The figure didn't cry out, he merely stumbled and stepped back, his lightsaber flying off with his hand. "Perhaps you're not as weak as Revan," he said, not even showing an ounce of pain or fear of his imminent death.
She took a step towards him, her lightsaber pointed towards where she assumed his neck was in the darkness of the hood. Not even the glow of her lightsaber shone on his features. The darkness behind the hood was what terrified her and she fought to suppress a chill.
Then, almost as if to show the figure had a human quality, the head tilted in a familiar teasing manner. "Or perhaps you fear delivering the final blow?"
"A Jedi knows no fear," she spat, "but I wouldn't expect a Sith to know that."
The figure chuckled, "no, I would suppose not."
On edge and feeling her adrenaline wearing down, she could feel something wrong begin to creep down her spine.
"But then again, perhaps you can prove it by delivering the final blow."
She clenched her jaw and narrowed her oceanic blue eyes. She could feel his dark soulless eyes staring into hers. "By all means, let me go right ahead and end this for you," she hissed, bringing her blade up.
The figure laughed and with his right hand, he quickly removed the hood as the blade came down.
She gasped, watching a sadistic grin plastered to his face.
The face was one she had been familiar with for so long, and her heart ached as the blade neatly severed his head below the neck.
Crying out, she watched the once promising Master Dante Ravenmoon collapse, the sadistic grin marking the finality of his victory on Rena.
Collapsing on the floor, she gaped at the headless corpse and dropped her lightsaber. Picking up his head, she screamed into the air before she felt the weight of the world crash into her, sucking her down into its spiral before she became nothing more than a speck of thought.
Shooting up from the cot, she gasped and cried out, covered in sweat and ignoring the pain that ran up from her legs, signaling the spasms that woke her up. She looked around and found the sudden darkness of the room against her liking. Quickly rising from the bed she hobbled and stretched her burning legs, until the pain was gone for a few brief moments.
Sweat ran down her face, marring her shoulder length hair and staining her clothing.
Sitting down at the corner of her bed, she curled her legs to her chest and lowered her head, crying.
She knew where she was and she knew the purpose they wanted her to serve.
The one place she wanted to be was the one place she couldn't be.
Dante, the man and Master she had secretly loved, was far beyond her reach and their bond was fading fast.
The sudden darkness that seemed to replace it was growing and in the back of her mind, she couldn't help but feel scared that everyone she had loved was going to change for the worse. Sighing and wiping away the tears that mingled with her now cooling sweat, she let out a low whimper, and closed her eyes.
This had been the fifth time in the week that she had a nightmare of darkness running into the world, each time involving someone close. The last time she had the nightmare, it had involved Revan.
This time, Dante's presence had unnerved her and she couldn't help but wonder what the Force had in store for the Galaxy. The thought of killing Dante rested uneasily with her and she found her hands shaking violently at the mere idea of her Master's potential death.
With the Sith on the move again and Revan fighting them at every turn, Rena couldn't help but wonder what role Dante would play. She whimpered again, wishing for better times when she was inseparable from her Master. Now they were on the opposite sides of the Galaxy and she didn't know if Dante was searching for her or if he had even survived the Sith assault on Coruscant.
All she knew was that by the time dawn came, she'd be put to more ruthless tests in shaping her to become a Sith tool, much like her brother Deus.
In the end, she'd be forced to make a choice: join the Sith or kill herself.
The latter seemed to be the more effective option for her. She would gladly kill herself if it meant depriving the Sith the chance of using her as a weapon against the people she loved.
The only question that bothered her was why Dante appeared different in her dream than the other ones she had. Revan had been clad in his old robes and mask, yet Dante was clad as a darker spectre of himself.
It put Rena on edge.
If she had to face Dante, would he be a Jedi or a Sith?
For that matter, she wondered about another terrifying prospect that shook her to the core.
If it came down to it, would she be able to kill the man she loved who also happened to be her Master? She rose, and looked to the stars in her suite. There was something that terrified her and she didn't know what it was.
The Galaxy seemed to be reaching its boiling point—war was coming and Rena didn't know what it would mean for her and Dante.
In the end, the only ones who really knew what would happen to the Galaxy were Revan and the mysterious Lord Julius. Everyone else was just collateral damage and pawns in their fight.