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Maul awoke with a start. Thin black sheets pooled around his waist as he sat up and put one tattooed hand to his forehead. He'd been dreaming again.
He couldn't remember when the nightmares had started. They were always the same, though. The smell of ancient wood and decay hit him first. Twin full moons shining through the treetops. A forest? Deep night had silenced even the most persistent of birds. He was watching a small boy he believed - (knew) - to be himself. He knew he had to get back to his village, but he was lost, oh so lost, and a voice in his head was screaming at him, saying he had to leave, be somewhere, anywhere, away from this place.
There was a cloaked figure … (a man?)… just out of sight, alluring, seducing, calling to him. Dreams and desires wove through his head, promising him anything, everything, if he would only come closer, away from his village, his family, his life, and into the dark world the shadowed figure offered him.
Every time Maul would yell at the boy to run, to get away, and every time, he would walk straight into the man's grip, and over to the Dark Side.
This was Hell, replayed every night in slow motion.
Maul could never bring himself to accept what the dream seemed to represent. He was very satisfied with his life as a Sith. He was strong, cunning, powerful … a massive weapon of destruction unto himself, and he was learning still more daily.
The only thing Maul had to do was dedicate his loyalty to his one and only teacher, protector, master, (owner?), and ultimately the one he would someday overthrow to become the Sith Lord, answering to no one.
A small smile made its way to the lips of the warrior when he imagined this eventuality.
His only desire now was to destroy all Jedi, along all those too weak or too stupid to embrace the Dark Side of the Force. The time of reckoning would come, and he would lead the armies.
Maul checked the time beside him, and rose from his small cot. His master would be displeased if he caught any sense of the tiny doubts that plagued his mind when he was asleep. He did not want Sidious to be displeased. His body bore the scars of other times, when Sidious had been angered, annoyed … sometimes just bored. Worse than that, however, was the shame it would bring Maul, for dishonouring his single-minded loyalty to the one who had given him so much control, and so much (pain?) power.
As he quickly dressed and steered his ship towards the small planet of Naboo, he made plans to return to Coruscant and have a small fraction of his memory erased. It was a part of his old life, not necessary for his training, hindering him in fact, and he had put off its removal for far too long.
Life was going well as it was, and he was satisfied. He told himself this often, hoping that one day he'd truly believe it. He had power and wealth at his fingertips, and in the end, that was all anybody ever needed, right?
Right?
Maul awoke with a start. Thin black sheets pooled around his waist as he sat up and put one tattooed hand to his forehead. He'd been dreaming again.
He couldn't remember when the nightmares had started. They were always the same, though. The smell of ancient wood and decay hit him first. Twin full moons shining through the treetops. A forest? Deep night had silenced even the most persistent of birds. He was watching a small boy he believed - (knew) - to be himself. He knew he had to get back to his village, but he was lost, oh so lost, and a voice in his head was screaming at him, saying he had to leave, be somewhere, anywhere, away from this place.
There was a cloaked figure … (a man?)… just out of sight, alluring, seducing, calling to him. Dreams and desires wove through his head, promising him anything, everything, if he would only come closer, away from his village, his family, his life, and into the dark world the shadowed figure offered him.
Every time Maul would yell at the boy to run, to get away, and every time, he would walk straight into the man's grip, and over to the Dark Side.
This was Hell, replayed every night in slow motion.
Maul could never bring himself to accept what the dream seemed to represent. He was very satisfied with his life as a Sith. He was strong, cunning, powerful … a massive weapon of destruction unto himself, and he was learning still more daily.
The only thing Maul had to do was dedicate his loyalty to his one and only teacher, protector, master, (owner?), and ultimately the one he would someday overthrow to become the Sith Lord, answering to no one.
A small smile made its way to the lips of the warrior when he imagined this eventuality.
His only desire now was to destroy all Jedi, along all those too weak or too stupid to embrace the Dark Side of the Force. The time of reckoning would come, and he would lead the armies.
Maul checked the time beside him, and rose from his small cot. His master would be displeased if he caught any sense of the tiny doubts that plagued his mind when he was asleep. He did not want Sidious to be displeased. His body bore the scars of other times, when Sidious had been angered, annoyed … sometimes just bored. Worse than that, however, was the shame it would bring Maul, for dishonouring his single-minded loyalty to the one who had given him so much control, and so much (pain?) power.
As he quickly dressed and steered his ship towards the small planet of Naboo, he made plans to return to Coruscant and have a small fraction of his memory erased. It was a part of his old life, not necessary for his training, hindering him in fact, and he had put off its removal for far too long.
Life was going well as it was, and he was satisfied. He told himself this often, hoping that one day he'd truly believe it. He had power and wealth at his fingertips, and in the end, that was all anybody ever needed, right?
Right?