Hey, everyone... This is the first time I've posted here in months, wow. Here's a little ficlet to shake the dust off this account. Reviews would be a nice little welcome back present! ;) Haha, enjoy!

I stare in the mirror, admiring my new black robe that pools around my feet. I tilt my chin, admiring how the dark fabric accents my deathly pale skin and white-blond hair. My striking green eyes have changed to a hard, metallic gold. Once I would have spurned this type of vanity, but now? It is but one more separation from my new self and the Jedi I used to be. A mere child, wide-eyed and innocent, attempting to do good in the world. With those delusions safely behind me, I can begin to move forward with my life.

I reach up and idly twirl my Padawan braid, the only remaining sign of my previous life. Three strands entwined around each other, representing the Master, the Padawan, and the Force. My hand drifts to rest lightly on the hilt of my new lightsaber. It activates with a hiss to reveal its scarlet blade, made from a blood-red crystal. I raise it to my neck with an unwavering hand...

...but before I can slice through the lock of hair, I pause, unsure. What if... what if they were right? I squeeze my eyes shut as images come, unbidden, to the forefront of my mind. My Master's tears and final acceptance, emotions hidden behind a stoic Jedi mask... my old home in the Temple... the Room of a Thousand Fountains... Yoda's quiet disapproval and cryptic warnings... The Force is screaming at me to reconsider, to go back. I look once more in the mirror, and my eyes are green and full of tears. That poor woman's dying screams echo in my head. I almost feel remorse for my actions.

Almost.

But then my anger swells again, tightening its grasp on my throat like a mighty beast. How dare they shun me? They have no clue what I have endured - loss and suffering that would have broken most men long ago. And yet they believe they can judge me? I control my destiny, not a group of self-righteous old "Masters" on the Council! And then when my eyes open again, they are cold, emotionless gold ones.

And the screaming of the Force dies down, a sigh of disappointment and regret.

I smile, but there is no joy behind it, only cruelty - an expression I once thought would never cross my face. I slice through my braid. I do not need it anymore.

I turn on my heel and stride out, leaving my weakness behind me. The world awaits.

In my wake, a slender white braid falls to the floor, forgotten.