Disclaimer: I don't own anything. I write because I can't help myself. :)
This is the last chapter. I will publish the Epilogue soon. Since I wrote the Prologue a few weeks ago and wanted to publish it, I had to delete all chapters first, publish the Prologue and then put the chapters back. Sorry for the confusion I created and for the notification mails those who follow my story received.
Cassie
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CAP. LII– The last stand of the Light, Part Two
Fluffy violet clouds had by now covered the whole sky – but they were not rain clouds, everyone noted. They rather seemed to be there, to exist, solely for the purpose of covering the sun, so that it would not trouble the Sith.
After one long hour master Quallath stepped away from master Gar-Gan, whose breathing steadied and his flow of curses ceased, and looked around himself. The two Jedi who were next to partake in the duels were not looking anxious. For some reason, they looked relieved. For they had seen the terrible fairy and the Droddian beast. And now there was not much more to be afraid of, they felt. That Sith sitting over there looked mediocre in his build. He was short and did not look very strong. He did not seem to pose much of a threat. As though reading their minds, master Quallath came to stand beside them and whispered into their ears:
"We do not know what that cloak is hiding," he said. "We have made wild assumptions before and they proved to be false. So expect all the worst and do not allow yourselves to be surprised or scared with the appearance of the Sith. He is not human – and whether or not he has fangs, blue eyes or a forked tail is quite irrelevant. He is your opponent; and you should have no mercy with him."
"We know that, master Quallath," the female Jedi master said earnestly.
The two Jedi who were waiting for the next duel were a short, half-Malaskian Jedi, by the name master Petti-Monh, and the agile, pureblood Albinian, whose name was master Forinya. Master Forinya taught swordsmanship at the Jedi Temple and she was not young, judging by her slightly wrinkled face. But her Force-sensitivity was excellent which was something that was beginning to matter greatly. Since it became clear to master Quallath that the physical strength and agility did not matter with the Sith, because they were clearly superior in it, it was obvious that the Jedi had to rely on the Force in order to stand a chance. And as time passed, master Quallath's glance began to flee in the direction of the Dark Lord, who was to be his own opponent. He was slowly bracing himself for what awaited him.
Master Forinya was a stern teacher, who did not allow any nonsense in her classroom, which was why the young Jedi did not like her and were on alert from her. However, she was the most level-headed person he had ever met. She demanded a lot from her students but she was an excellent teacher with years of experience behind her. As she followed master Quallath's glance to the four Sith, she bit her lip, vaguely wondering whether she should take her tunic off for the duel.
And in the shade of the tree, last piece of advice was being given to Tyananna, who sat quietly, stared at her hands and listened. Her pale face looked quite devoid of any emotion whatsoever; but her heart was hammering against her ribs.
As the Jedi finally decided it was time to move on and that they were ready, they noticed while they walked across the clearing that the Dark Lord was whispering into the ear of the third Sith apprentice. This made them breathe with relief. It so seemed that he required advice, which of course implied he was not ready for the duel and that the Dark Lord was worried. They stood a chance against him, they were certain.
("Here they come,") the Dark Lord said to Tyananna, who lifted her head.
Two Jedi were walking toward them, their brown cloaks billowing in the wind, lead by master Quallath, as before. Her throat clenched – she recognised them all right. Once she yearned to be taught by master Forinya, but since she was considered not to be talented enough to join her group, she never got the chance. She used to try to steal a glance of her classes, yearning to get the honour to be there, to be taught by her, to be one of the perhaps dozen being taught by her. Master Petti-Monh was a wise Jedi, always ready for a joke, but who could twine and wriggle out of a firm grip and pin even the most experienced Jedi to the floor. In combination with the Force, he was a very dangerous opponent in close combat. Therefore the advice of the Dark Lord was to keep well away from him.
Tyananna slowly got to her feet and stared at them, swallowing something bitter. The following moment the Dark Lord placed a hand on her shoulder and suddenly all of her anxiety evaporated. It was a simple gesture, so very simple and possibly insignificant; but to her, it meant everything. He was right here, beside her, and he was supporting her in all that she was about to do. He could understand her nervousness and he did not yell at her because of it. Tyananna lifted her chin and stood silent beside her master, who turned to the Jedi.
"Is master Gar-Gan better, my apprentice asks?" the Dark Lord asked master Quallath.
The latter looked at him strangely and nodded.
"Yes, he will be better soon," he said. "I have been healing him for an hour; and as his bones now seem to be in place, they are beginning to heal."
"Excellent," the Dark Lord said, turning to Lord Tammutyen, who nodded at master Quallath.
"This is Tyananna of the Sith," the Dark Lord said.
Tyananna felt a wave of pride washing over her. She was not a lady yet; but the Dark Lord expressed her belonging to the Sith Order clearly enough, what had been meant for her, of course, not for the Jedi. She straightened up, whereas the two Jedi exchanged glances. Another female? Was Tyananna a female name? They had no idea. It surprised them a little that someone like the Dark Lord actually had two female apprentices. They rather imagined he would prefer apprentices like Lord Tammutyen.
"She is your opponent."
The Dark Lord glanced over the two Jedi standing before him, made a pace in their direction and then began to inspect them through the eyes of the Dark side. The two Jedi stood quite still as the hand of the Dark side brushed against their swords. All the while master Forinya was staring at him as though hoping she might kill him with her venomous, stern glance. But the Dark Lord seemed to be immune to it, unlike everyone else.
Satisfied, the Dark Lord turned away from them and extended a hand in Tyananna's direction. She quickly took her M'Hoor and gave it to him with her head bowed. All the Jedi could see was a pale chin; but they did not care what was hidden underneath that black hood. They had already seen a lot of things and felt they were beyond surprises.
"This is M'Hoor," the Dark Lord said, unsheathing Tyananna's pet sword, with her name written in large Sith glyphs across the middle of it.
She was exceedingly proud of it, proud of what she had done to a bit of metal. It was her product, her making, her creation; and she loved every inch of it. She felt quite comfortable with it and she was grateful for the fact she would be able to go to battle with it. She could endure the most confusing and horrible trainings of her Master's with her M'Hoor in her hands. It was an extension of her own hands and she felt quite safe with it. She used to sleep with it, not because she was afraid someone might attack her in her sleep, but because it was her companion and she treated it as though it was a living thing. And to see her Master holding it in his hands sent shivers of joy down her spine.
"It does not demand such a perfect feeling for balance, size and weight from its user, as the Ptah does," the Dark Lord spoke, as though giving a lecture, while master Quallath picked it up and glanced over it. "But rather a feeling for movement and timing. For someone like Tyananna, it is perfect."
"And has she, too, been practising with it since she was three?" master Quallath asked with a note of annoyance in his voice.
Tyananna had often seen him often at the Temple, while she was there. When she was young, she saw him as a person who had to be respected. He was the highest authority in the Temple, but at the same time, master Quallath was a mystery. She often speculated with Waak what he was capable of and she used to believe he was capable of anything.
But now, he was just a confused old man. He was powerful as a Jedi, no doubt about it; but Tyananna saw him now for the first time through the eyes of a Sith who could not be easily impressed or intimidated. Even he – the most powerful living Jedi – could look confused and angry underneath that mask of calmness and it was obvious to her that he was anxious.
"Oh, no," the Dark Lord said with a smile. "She has been my student for five years."
"Five years?" master Quallath echoed.
He skimmed with his glance over Tyananna, who kept staring at him without blinking under the hood.
"Quite so," the Dark Lord answered.
He placed a hand on Tyananna's shoulder and gave her a little push in the back, which meant she was to go and get ready for the duel, while master Quallath and the Dark Lord remained standing there.
"That remedy your apprentice brought to master Gar-Gan," master Quallath began, watching Tyananna with the corner of his eye, who was now making a tight bun with Lady Tarralyanna's help.
Master Quallath was not surprised to see she did not have brown hair as an Albinian would or curly hair as Malaskians did. Of course, he thought; she was not human. He only wondered whether she had a tail.
"That looked like Caelian medicine to me, Dark Lord."
"Oh, I imagine it did," the Dark Lord said airily. "Lord Tammutyen uses it often. It is very effective."
"Yes, but where did he learn how to make such remedies?" master Quallath persisted.
He had it on the tip of his tongue to ask the Dark Lord how many times had he broken his legs and arms in order to prove his point and how many lashes did a Sith receive when he did not obey his orders, but he chose to say nothing.
"Caelian scholars, of course," the Dark Lord said matter-of-factly, looking at him in surprise.
"You have been to the Caelians?" master Quallath asked.
"Oh no, master Quallath," the Dark Lord with a hint of amusement in his normally emotionless voice. "But the Sith of old have. It is tradition to pass on the knowledge, you see; and Lord Tammutyen has been ordered to learn as much as he could about healing when he was very young – for it was obvious he would need it."
"To heal himself after all of your punishments, you mean," master Quallath interjected, this time unable to help himself.
The red-haired Sith had taken off her cloak and now she bent over to tighten the laces on her boots.
"Each has his own cross to bear," the Dark Lord said mysteriously.
Master Quallath turned to the two Jedi to see whether they were ready. Master Forinya was staring at the Sith apprentice with her lips pressed tightly together. When master Quallath next turned around, the Sith apprentice was already on her feet after she greeted the Dark Lord in the same fashion the other two apprentices did, and was walking with her back turned toward him across the clearing, her sword in her hand.
Master Forinya and master Petti-Monh followed her, staring at her broad back. It was pretty obvious why everyone had mistaken her for a man. She had exceedingly broad back for a woman, which was, predictably, covered in tattoos. The Sith seemed to put everything they thought of on their bodies, including their mottoes and sentences which they found inspiring. No one could read Sith, but it was pretty obvious what they were. Just like Lady Tarralyanna, she was wearing something tied around her breasts, but as far as master Forinya could see, she did not need it. Her chest was completely flat. Her fingers seemed to be playing with the hilt of her sword and she kept her glance fixed upon a dot on the horizon. Master Forinya felt no pity for her. She was perhaps one of the few Jedi who could put their pity aside and she had already been scolded for her lack of compassion by a few Jedi masters.
As the Sith stopped in the middle of the clearing and turned toward them, she fixed her glance upon the two Jedi and flexed her muscular arms. Only then could the Jedi actually see her face.
Despite of her red hair, despite of her appearance, master Forinya nearly dropped her sword in shock as she recognised her. Master Petti-Monh stared at her with his mouth hanging open; and master Quallath ran over to her, unable to stop himself.
"Master Quallath!" the Dark Lord yelled after him.
Master Quallath stopped dead in his tracks, still staring at the Sith apprentice. She, however, was not paying any attention to him, but stood as though rooted to the spot with her glance fixed upon her opponents. The two Jedi were torn between the desire to run over to her and to remain where they were.
"Leave my apprentice alone," the Dark Lord hissed.
The Dark Lord needed no threats to make it clear he meant what he said and that he expected to be obeyed.
"But..." master Quallath started, pointing a finger in the direction of the Sith. He looked as though he had gone mad. "I must see her!" he spluttered. "Is it really...? Could it be...?"
The Jedi had in the meantime gotten to their feet and they tried to take a better look, but the Sith was standing too far away. She did not seem to be aware of the commotion because she still stood there with her glance fixed upon the two Jedi before her, not moving a muscle.
"LARYNTHE!" master Quallath yelled all of a sudden. "IT IS ME, MASTER QUALLATH! Do you not remember me?"
And still the Sith remained motionless.
Master Quallath turned angrily toward the Dark Lord.
"What have you done to her?" he roared, pointing his finger in Tyananna's direction.
"Resurrected her from the dead," the Dark Lord said flatly, looking unaffected by master Quallath's rage. "And took her with me to teach her."
"Resurrected her...?" master Quallath spluttered, momentarily unable to understand what he was talking about.
But then it hit him – she must had gotten killed as well, in that encounter in the Land of Gnath. But for some reason, the Dark Lord resurrected her, whatever he meant by that and forced her to become his apprentice. His heart went icy cold.
"Does she not remember anything? Does she know who she used to be?" master Quallath asked.
"No," the Dark Lord said flatly. "And I would not try to talk to her if I were you, because she only sees a foe in you and remembers nothing of her old life. She only knows me and recognises my authority."
"What have you done to her?" master Quallath repeated in a hollow voice, unable to help himself.
He looked again in her direction, but she was still standing quite still and was obviously waiting for the duel to begin. The two Jedi tried very hard to catch her attention, not daring to come too close to her, but she did not react.
"I have made her my apprentice," the Dark Lord said simply. "I have travelled far and wide, master Quallath; I have seen much of the world; but I have not met any individuals who would be worthy students, though I have been searching for them. I have met your Jedi Larynthe, as her old name once was; and I saw potential in her. It is only very sad that you could not see it yourself."
Master Quallath looked as though he was slapped in the face. True, he remembered the girl, but only because she left the Temple with master Waak-Lin, going after master Bakku. He inquired about her, to learn more about her, but only when he heard she wanted to go on a mission with master Waak-Lin. And master Quallath was not impressed with what he learned about her. She was a mediocre swordsman, she was very emotional, of an average Force sensitivity and had no special talents or interests, except for her fascination with poetry. The reports of the teachers she used to have as a child all told him the same – there was nothing special about her, if one would exclude her friendship with the exceptionally talented master Waak-Lin.
And now she was here. She looked nothing like the Jedi apprentice he remembered. The effects and traces of the Dark Lord's training were clearly visible on her. For a woman, she was as strong as an ox, which was why he initially thought she was male. She had several tattoos, but it was pretty obvious she did not have the time to cover her whole body in them. Clearly the Dark Lord breathed life back into her with some horrible Dark side technique and made her inhuman. And now, brainwashed and devoid of any memory of her old life, of the life of a Jedi she used to have, she had become his pawn, his third little soldier in the formidable army he had created.
"A Jedi will not fight a Jedi," master Quallath said, turning back to look at the Dark Lord. "It is against the rules!"
"She is not a Jedi," the Dark Lord said, his eyes flashing with a threat he never uttered nor needed to. "She is a Sith. And she is my apprentice."
"Did she have a word in it? Did she say she wanted to fight?" master Quallath spat furiously.
"She obeys my orders," the Dark Lord said, straightening up. "That is why she is there, ready for battle, is she not?"
"Have you asked her what she wants, Dark Lord?" master Quallath yelled.
He was beside himself. This was the last straw.
"She wants to serve the Dark side," the Dark Lord said.
As master Quallath showed every intention in interrupting him again, the Dark Lord lifted a hand and something flashed in his dark eyes. Master Quallath could clearly sense the Dark side swirling around him and resisted the urge to shudder.
"Has she not given you her answer when you tried to speak to her?" he hissed. "Was that not clear enough for you? To make you understand that she is not the person you once knew? She does not know you – she sees only a foe."
Master Quallath bit his lip and closed his eyes in resignation. It was just too much to bear. He could barely watch his friends and colleagues fighting the Sith; but to see someone who used to be a cheerful Jedi apprentice now standing there on the other side of the battlefield was too much for him.
He threw one last glance at the Sith standing unmovable in the middle of the clearing and then nodded at the Dark Lord.
"Surely you realise," he said, "that the Jedi will not have any mercy with her, despite of all."
"And I am sure you realise in turn," the Dark Lord said, "that she would have any mercy with them, either."
Master Quallath snorted instead of giving him an answer and strode off. The Dark Lord turned in Tyananna's direction and yelled out a harsh sentence in Sith. She nodded, her features hardening, hissing a single word which was quickly echoed by the two Sith apprentices who were standing beside the tree. The Jedi had heard it before – and some wondered what it meant. As it were, the word was "shesh'tah" and it meant "to rise" in Sith. This single word seemed to embody Tyananna's greatest strength. When the two echoed it with feeling, she felt as though she could grin. Whatever her Master told master Quallath, it certainly drove him away. For a moment she was certain he was going to run over to her and try to touch her or do something equally surprising, but he did not. Tyananna was just very surprised he even remembered her old name.
She took a deep breath and assumed combat position, tightening the grip on her sword. As the Jedi did the same, looking a little reluctant to do so, they half expected her to fight with the light side. But the throttling wave of rage, which had a single purpose, that of destruction, which spilled over them, was definitely not the light side.
Tyananna did not wait for them to start the duel. She did not think about what she was about to do, but spun her sword in her hand and charged at the two Jedi with a roar. Master Forinya quickly lifted her sword and the blade clashed with Tyananna's M'Hoor. The face of the older woman was devoid of any compassion, as she knew what she had to do. And if she had to kill this child because of it, then it had to be so. She has the nerves of steel, the master swordsman thought, following her well-practised movements, as she passed her sword from one hand to the other.
Master Petti-Monh, on the other hand, had taken a different approach. He ducked and slammed into Tyananna, hoping to knock her down. But Tyananna jumped as soon as she sensed his intentions, landed beside him and kicked him with her heel under the chin, at the same time lifting her sword to parry master Forinya's quick attack. The blade of her sword clashed against the Jedi's blade in a loud clank which produced sparks between two pieces of metal. Master Petti-Monh howled in pain, feeling that his chin was perhaps broken, as he could not move it and was spitting blood. Gathering strength and trying to breathe, he jumped back to his feet and lifted his sword.
When master Forinya felt the Dark side coming from her, she had no doubts in her mind she was a fully-fledged Sith. For her it was the last confirmation she needed to completely forget all about her pity and just fight for the honour of the Jedi Order.
Tyananna had no idea what the Dark Lord told them, but it so seemed they believed she could not remember her Jedi days. She could. And she was using everything she learned about their combat style. She also knew how master Forinya taught because she once asked Waak to teach her what master Forinya taught him. As Waak believed she would need it once they found the Sith, he acceded to it and taught her. Therefore Tyananna knew very well what to expect.
She kicked off with a fierce yell, propelled by the Dark side, and kicked both master Forinya and master Petti-Monh while she was still airborne. The Jedi seemed to forget that the Force could only make one's already existing abilities better and give one who was strong even more strength – and therefore she had the advantage of the fraction of a second her own physical strength gave her in order to kick the both of them with her feet in the face. As soon as she landed, she spun around her axis and kicked master Petti-Monh, who was undoubtedly slower than master Forinya, with her foot in the stomach. It was something Lord Tammutyen taught her. One's own strength was multiplied by the rotational movement of the body; and made ever greater by the Dark side. And she chose the right moment to do this, because she felt something crack before he flew through the air and rolled over, with blood oozing through his mouth.
Now she had only one opponent to think about.
"You do not have to do this, Larynthe," master Forinya yelled, lifting her sword again.
The Sith seemed to be able to anticipate their every movement and master Forinya was already considering changing her tactics. The muscles on the Sith's arm flexed dangerously as she faced her and bared her teeth.
"I am Tyananna," she said through her teeth.
Either she really could not remember her past life, master Forinya thought, or she was putting up a very good act. It did not matter.
Master Forinya threw herself at her and the Jedi could only see a brown dot which fizzed through their air and collided with the black one. A loud clank of metal echoed the woods and master Quallath's features hardened. Perhaps this Sith resembled a girl he once knew, but she was nothing like Larynthe. Larynthe could never fight like that. If what the Dark Lord told him was true – and he just did not see why he would lie about it – then what he was just seeing had been accomplished in five years. How does he teach, he asked himself, now casting an offhand glance in his direction? The Dark Lord's face was a mask, as before; but in one short moment master Quallath saw a smile tugging the corners of those thin lips. Was it pride? Was the Dark Lord proud of his apprentice? Was it possible at all? For once, master Quallath had to agree with him, even though one of his friends was lying on the ground, probably with his ribs broken, and the other one still fighting. What he created out of her surpassed every law of nature, every expectation one might have of a human being's capabilities. But then again, she was not human.
As he noticed that the Sith's side was covered in something blue, he got his last bit of proof he needed. Master Forinya did not seem to be surprised with this and did not show any kind of reaction. For the first time since the duels began, master Quallath began to realise they were going to lose. A part of him knew he should not be ashamed to lose, since they were all clearly not human and it was not a fair fight. But another part of him felt crushed and he began to consider the alternatives. He began to think about his own upcoming duel, knowing he was about to die. He only hoped no one else would have to die.
Master Forinya was not sparing herself. Drawing quick, painful breaths, she kept mercilessly attacking Tyananna from all sides, trying to find her weak spot. It was just how the mind of a master swordsman worked. She succeeded, actually, twice. But not one hint of pleasure or triumph could be seen on her lined face. She was simply fighting without thinking about winning or losing and Tyananna had to admire her for that despite of herself.
Tyananna pushed her away with the Dark side and the older woman flew through the air, remembering, however, to use the Force in order to soften her fall and counter the Sith. Tyananna lifted her hand, but it was too late. She got hit and rolled over. She spat a mouthful of blue blood, hissed in anger and jumped to her feet, hastily clearing her mind with the Dark side. Without thinking about it, she pointed a finger at her sword which was lying a few feet away from her and bolted. Given speed atop of her own by the Dark side, she was a black dot which sprinted across the clearing, chasing after master Forinya who had used this welcome break in order to catch her breath, but was now forced to run.
Tyananna threw her sword and started spinning it with the Dark side until it was a blur of metal.
She did not learn that from me, the Dark Lord thought with amusement, watching her. It acted as a propeller, which fizzed straight at master Forinya. She ducked right on time to avoid getting beheaded and jumped to her feet, only to be knocked down once again by Tyananna, who threw herself at her like a charging bull. The two women fell on the ground together with a sickening thump and Tyananna grabbed her for her neck, meaning to strangle her. Master Forinya pushed her away with the Force and managed to grab her wrists. Her hands were as cold as that of a corpse, she thought.
The Dark side and the light side vibrated between their palms as they wrestled on the ground. The Jedi could see the battle between two sides of the Force, fighting against each other for prevalence, spitting sparks and explosions which were visible only through the eyes of the Force. A few droplets of Tyananna's blue blood dripped from her mouth over master Forinya' tunic, just as she felt her fingers breaking. The Sith was squeezing her hands with an ugly look of rage on her face. She screamed and the Jedi watched, mortified. Staring up in the eyes of the girl she once knew and which were now two bottomless pits of anger, thousand pictures began to flash through her mind. Larynthe laughing, sitting under a tree with master Waak-Lin, who was telling her stories; Larynthe trying to watch one of her lessons, only to be discovered by master Forinya herself; Larynthe bowing her head as new apprentices were being called out, to which list she did not belong. This was not that girl. That girl was dead.
Tyananna of the Sith hissed and bared her teeth as she made a sudden and quick movement with her muscular arms – and master Forinya screamed for the second time so loudly her voice broke and then lost her consciousness. The Jedi stared, speechless. It so seemed that the Sith had broken master Forinya's elbows, if one was to judge according to the way her underarms stuck out at strange angles.
There was a loud shout from the Dark Lord and the Sith breathed, staring down at the unconscious Jedi as though she just realised what she had done. It was over. Tyananna glanced around herself, took a deep breath, spat a mouthful of blood and then got to her feet. She looked up to see a group of Jedi who slowly edged forward, staring at her. Tyananna of the Sith stared back at the people who she once knew and lifted her chin. She had done it.
The Jedi bent over master Forinya, but most of them still gaped at Tyananna. For one long moment they stared at each other, after what Tyananna spat for the second time and nodded at everyone. They were nothing to her – but enemies. She turned around and strode back to the Sith, where she rightfully belonged, pointing a casual finger at nothing in particular, at what her sword zoomed into her outstretched hand. She could feel their stares on her back, but she did not care. When she reached the Dark Lord, however, and sensed his powerful presence, she felt as though a burden lifted from her chest. She had done it – and she was going to show respect to the man who gave all this to her. To the man who created her and made her who she was.
She dropped to her both knees before him, bowed her hand and buried her face in his black cloak. Master Quallath could hear the Dark Lord whispering to her while her broad, sweaty back trembled. Was she crying? It was impossible to tell. But when she next got to her feet, she was grinning broadly and went to join the two Sith apprentices, who patted her on the back.
Master Quallath marched over to the Dark Lord, trembling with rage.
"We said – we agreed – no killing!" he yelled, pointing an accusing finger at the Dark Lord.
Tyananna turned around and stared at him. Who did she kill? Surely she did not hit that half-Malaskian that hard?
"Who is dead, then?" the Dark Lord asked.
"Oh, she is not dead yet, but she is nearly there," master Quallath barked.
"Your master swordsman?" the Dark Lord asked placidly. He cast a glance in Tyananna's direction. "I do not blame my apprentice for anything that happened. I have seen it through the Dark side – surely you followed the duel through the Force, too. She crushed her fingers and then broke her elbows. Your master swordsman fainted due to pain, but that is it. My apprentice did not kill her."
Tyananna looked down on her hands. She had no idea what she had done – she only remembered she wanted to hurt master Forinya very, very badly. It sounded as though she succeeded at it. Lord Tammutyen and Lady Tarralyanna's opponents were more or less all right. They all sort of expected Lord Tammutyen to accidentally kill someone, but not Tyananna. But while she fought, she was in a sort of a trance and had no idea what she was doing. The Dark side had been guiding her and now that the duel was over, she felt so exhausted she could barely sit. She had never fought like this. She gave her very best – and more than that.
She sat, lost in her thoughts, while Lady Tarralyanna was taking care of her wounds. On her left side, Lord Tammutyen was preparing a needle and a thread for Lady Tarralyanna to sew Tyananna's wound.
"The rules clearly state," the Dark Lord said loudly, as master Quallath showed every sign of interruption, "That injury or death are allowed, if they happen during the battle. My apprentice did not stab your Jedi, nor did she crush her heart. If master Forinya is hanging between life and death, then it is because of her own poor physical fitness. It is obvious that her own body was unable to endure the strain. Surely you must realise that."
"So now what?" master Quallath barked, looking and sounding half-crazy. "It is not enough to kill the Jedi who happen to cross your path, but you have to abduct one, twist her mind with the Dark side and brainwash her. Now what do you want to do?"
"You forget yourself, master Quallath," the Dark Lord said coldly. "You have had your say about the one who used to be Jedi Larynthe while she was at the Jedi Temple. You did not believe her to be talented enough to be taught, nor did you ever count her in when making a list of apprentices who would go on a mission. You did not need her. But I did. I have clearly seen something in her that you have not, something that you missed; and she is now rightfully my apprentice. You have no right to try to insult her or what she has accomplished, and I, as her master, will not allow it. Surely a man like you can recognise a great warrior when he sees one. And having accomplished what she has in those five years she spent with me clearly proves she has been born to be a Sith, and not a Jedi."
Master Quallath was left speechless. For a few moments he stood rebellious and shaking with emotion, after what he suddenly threw his hands in the air with the air of a man who was tired of living.
He made a resolute pace forward and brought himself into the face of the Dark Lord.
"One more duel, Dark Lord," he hissed. "You and I."
The Dark Lord straightened up and gave him a long, penetrating look.
"You seem like a man who has nothing to live for," he said.
"Indeed that is how I feel," master Quallath answered truthfully. "You are quite right."
"We have won all three duels – do you agree?" the Dark Lord asked.
"I agree," master Quallath said.
"My apprentices were ordered not to kill and your Jedi fought in the same manner," the Dark Lord went on. "You and I, I daresay, are beyond such restrictions. Do you agree with that as well?"
Let him kill me, master Quallath thought. It will be an honourable death indeed. He considered not fighting at all, for the cause was already lost; but he could not go back and face the Jedi or the world, for that matter, without facing the Dark Lord of the Sith. Even if that cost him his life. Greatness has its price, his old master once told him, and now he remembered this and could perfectly understand it for the first time in his long life.
"Yes," he answered.
The Dark Lord glanced over him and sighed, shaking his head.
"Do you have a partner? Have you chosen her, or him?" he asked in what one could call a paternal tone.
"I have," master Quallath answered wearily.
"Very well," the Dark Lord said, nodding. "I shall be waiting for you right here and drinking coffee, if you do not mind."
oooooooooooooooooooooo
"She twisted my arms!" master Forinya squealed as soon as she came to her senses, her eyes still watering in pain.
"No one blames you," master Quallath said as he glanced over her. "You fought excellent. I am proud of you."
"Quallath," she whispered, shaking, now remembering what was about to happen. "Please do not go there. He is going to kill you, you know that?"
Finally she voiced the fears and doubts of all Jedi and everyone fixed their glances upon master Quallath, who simply stared at her.
"I must go," master Quallath said.
He was not afraid of death; but he was afraid of what he would leave behind.
"No!" master Forinya yelled. "Tell him that we accept his conditions. You know that we have already lost, do you not?"
"I could not face the world and the people while standing alive, having surrendered because I did not want to get killed," master Quallath said firmly.
"Does it matter what people think?" master Forinya asked. "Does the future of the Order matter more than your own reputation? This is your pride speaking, not you, Quallath. Do you not see that? He wants you to go there – and he is going to kill you. They are not human, they are beasts – and we should accept defeat. If he keeps to his word, we will be fine. We will go back to the Jedi Temple and go on with our lives as before."
"Nothing will ever be as it was," master Quallath said, shaking his head. "You will be fine without me," he whispered, getting to his feet. "Just put your trust in the Force."
He walked away, meaning to go there alone. Another Jedi got to his feet and quickly followed him back across the clearing. Master Forinya gave a loud sob, tears streaming down her face. She could not bear to look at her good friend marching like that to his own death. It was his own decision and it was his life. And yet – did he not have duties toward the Jedi Order? For master Quallath, this was exactly what it was – his duty.
"We are ready," master Quallath said.
The four Sith had been drinking coffee until then. There was not one hint of a smile or pleasure on their faces, he noted; not one hint of triumph. They were all sitting together in a circle, drinking coffee and talking. The Dark Lord's hood turned toward master Quallath and slowly, he got to his feet. Followed by the glances of his apprentices, he approached him.
"Master Quallath," he said in a quiet, almost solemn voice. "I want you to know that I have meant what I promised. I promised the Jedi Order to live in peace, as long as it did not interfere with my plans and remain at the Jedi Temple. I have sworn on the Dark side."
"I know you will keep your promise," master Quallath said.
"Then why do you want to die so badly?" the Dark Lord asked.
Master Quallath thought for some time, with the Dark Lord watching him carefully.
"If I remain alive and if the Jedi Order returns to the Temple, defeated," he said slowly, "I will lose my purpose and everything I have lived for. I could not go on with my life."
"I see," the Dark Lord said, nodding. "And I understand."
"I am not sure you do," master Quallath said. "But it is all right."
"Yes," the Dark Lord said, waving a hand. "Very well. I shall inspect you."
Master Quallath's partner was master Feth. And Master Quallath felt at peace as the Dark Lord skimmed with the Dark side over him. He had already named him his successor; and he took care of all of his business on this world. He was ready to die. Somehow he knew that the Dark Lord would spare master Feth's life and the thought was very comforting. He would die today, in his duel with the Dark Lord of the Sith and he would die an honourable death, for the world and for the Jedi Order. He would leave master Feth behind as the next Head of the Order, whereas the Jedi would return to the Temple and continue with their lives. Everything seemed to be in order.
Without further ado he took off his cloak, unsheathed his sword and walked out on the clearing, closely followed by master Feth. In master Quallath's opinion, though the Jedi Order had never gotten the chance to defend the noble name of the Jedi and fight for the freedom of the people, today it showed its true face and he was proud of his Order. They stood their ground and they did not lose sight of their ideals and principles. They found like Jedi – and master Quallath was proud of them.
The Dark Lord slowly took his cloak and his shirt off, pulling out his Mer'Tah from its scabbard. Tyananna had never seen her Master without a shirt on – but he looked exactly as she expected him to. His body was covered in tattoos, some of which were obviously very old. But his skin was smooth and there were no traces of any scars of any kind. He had the body of a young, strong man. She gaped at his chest as he was making a bun, with Lady Tarralyanna jumping to her feet and helping him. He did not speak to them; but he did not need to. However, something in his behaviour worried Tyananna. He took his pendant off and gave it to Lady Tarralyanna, who took it from him with a puzzled expression on her face. Why would he take it off?
"I am proud of all of you," he said, turning to them. "You brought glory to Darkness. Continue to do so, my apprentices. Do not forget who you are; do not forget me; and know, that I will always be with you. Shesh'tah."
"Shesh'tah," the three repeated in unison, gaping at him.
Tyananna followed him to the edge of the clearing with her heart hammering against her ribs. Surely he was coming back? Surely he was going to kill master Quallath? Lady Tarralyanna placed a hand on her shoulder and cast one serious glance at her. Tyananna knew that she had to remain impartial, that she had to remain calm. They had already won; and the world belonged to Darkness. So why would anything happen now?
As the Dark Lord walked out on the clearing with his weapon in his hand, master Quallath followed him with his glance, unable to believe his eyes. He had not seen the Dark Lord without his hood on yet. He was an ageless man, looking as though he was just as old as his apprentices were. And yet, if had been teaching them since they were three, he had to be at least twice as old as they were. The Dark side clearly did not destroy flesh, he concluded – but rather gave it eternal youth. But his face! He was a beautiful man and there was no other word for it. His features were noble and gentle and his thin lips, the only thing master Quallath could see until now, were now a straight line.
"How old are you, Dark Lord?" master Quallath asked.
It was a strange question to be asked in such a moment, no doubt about it. But master Quallath no longer needed to pretend, he no longer tried to wheedle out as much information as he could about the Sith from the Dark Lord. The Jedi were already defeated and he saw no reason why the Dark Lord would not answer his question.
The Dark Lord spun his weapon in his hand and smirked at him.
"How old are you, master Quallath?" he asked in turn. "You tell me your age and I shall tell you mine."
"I am eighty two," master Quallath said readily. "And you?"
"I am eighty seven," the Dark Lord answered.
Master Feth's eyes widened, but master Quallath looked as though he expected such an answer.
The Dark Lord lifted his weapon and the Jedi held their breaths. However, it was master Quallath who made the first move. He ran toward the Dark Lord, who lifted his strange weapon in the air and the two blades clashed against each other. They did not seem to be reluctant to get close to each other and for a few long, agonising moments, all everyone else could see were two dots, one black and one brown, moving around each other so fast they were a blur, with occasional clanks of metal echoing the clearing. Master Feth joined in with a yell and for a while he stood right beside master Quallath, while the Dark Lord fought with both of them at the same time.
However, at some point, something curious happened. Was it a trick of the Force, the Jedi asked themselves? Or did they feel a fist of the light side itself, knocking him down? Either way, they could see master Feth lying on the grass, blood sliding down his temple. He was obviously unconscious.
But there could be no talk of a duel. The Sith could not see anything with their physical eyes and they tried to follow what was going on through the Force. The Dark side was thundering around the Dark Lord with such force, that the very picture of the Dark Lord looked distorted. Master Quallath lifted a hand, sending the Force toward the Dark Lord. The hand of the light cut through space like a knife and the Dark Lord responded, sending a wave of destructiveness which swallowed it. The Jedi had never seen anything like it. This was power; this was the end of the world in the true meaning of the word.
Quallath lifted his both hands, creating a sort of a Force shield, which he turned against the Dark Lord. The Dark Lord disappeared from where he was standing and the Jedi gasped. Of course, he had forbidden his apprentices to use such tricks, since he wanted to show their superiority without them. The following moment he reappeared behind master Quallath and unleashed his Force Lightning. The three Sith watched, breathless – this was the first time they had seen their Master in a clean duel. However, this was no fighting, they thought – it was something much more than that. Force Lightning exploded from the Dark Lord's fingers and spread through the clearing faster than thought. It was very difficult to see what was happening. A few trees caught on fire and the Jedi themselves threw themselves upon the ground, to avoid getting hit by a branch. However, the Sith could clearly sense sparks in the Dark side as master Quallath got hit in the chest and fell over.
"SHESH'TAH!" the three Sith screamed in unison as the sparks and the silver lightning slowly dissipated.
The Jedi got to their feet and searched with their glances for master Quallath. His motionless figure was lying on the grass and his dead eyes were directed at the heavens. The Dark Lord stood without his sword in hand in the middle of the clearing, staring at master Quallath's body. His expression did not reveal any emotion, but the Sith could clearly feel his triumph. They could feel it in the Dark side, which was swirling around the clearing like a dark cloud. It was everywhere. Only now the Sith could understand what he meant when he said that Darkness would rule the world.
The glance of the Dark Lord fell upon master Feth, who was still lying where he fell. The Jedi, not trying to hide their tears, ran toward the body of master Quallath and some of them threw themselves on the ground beside him and dissolved into sobs. The three Sith bated their breaths, staring at the Dark Lord. The Dark side was on the move. Something was going on.
The ground began to tremble and the very clouds seemed to be vibrating, shaking, as something seemed to be struggling to pass through. Wind began to blow stronger and stronger until the branches of the trees started bending down as though they were nothing more than toothpicks. The three Sith looked up to the sky as well. Every blade of grass, every branch of a tree, watched in awe as a long, black cone began to slowly descend from the sky. It was the exact same cone which once spread destruction across the world and created the Black Tower. It extended from the sky like a finger and descended lower and lower. The Jedi screamed, staring at it, but Tyananna was not looking at them. Her eyes were fixed upon her Master.
The Dark Lord picked up his sword and began to walk toward the black cone, which was now nearly touching the ground. His hair was whipping around him like a lash, but he did not seem to notice it at all. As Tyananna jumped, meaning to go to him, Lord Tammutyen grabbed her for her elbow and held her firmly. And then... the three Sith heard his voice through the Dark side.
'My work is now done,' he told them placidly. 'I have fulfilled my mission. Today we have extinguished the Light, my apprentices. Bring glory to Darkness and a new era to Horukaan. Shesh'tah.'
Tyananna screamed, realising what he was about to do; but four arms gripped her firmly from behind. The Dark Lord spread his arms and an ear-splitting thunder shook the world. When Tyananna next looked up, her master was gone.
Thunderous silence fell upon the world. Tyananna's stomach clenched and grief and sorrow the like of which she never felt in her life pervaded her. With an inhuman effort, she pushed Lord Tammutyen and Lady Tarralyanna away and sprinted toward the black cone, screaming. But there was nothing left of the Dark Lord, only a circle of singed grass which was still smoking. She searched for him frantically with her glance and then with the Dark side, but she could not feel him. He was gone. As it became clear to her what just happened, she dropped to her knees and buried her face in her hands.
"MASTER!" she screamed atop of her lungs.
Lady Tarralyanna and Lord Tammutyen approached her slowly, wearing matching serious expressions and placed their hands on her shoulders. Tyananna tried to shake them off, but they knelt down beside her. The black cone was slowly dissipating and the wind and the unnatural coldness disappeared. The Jedi still knelt beside master Quallath's body, whereas some stood with master Feth, who was now awake, and stared at the three Sith.
"Why?" Tyananna whispered, shaking uncontrollably. "Why?"
Slowly, Lady Tarralyanna put her arms around her and Tyananna's head sank on her chest. The blue eyes looked across Tyananna at Lord Tammutyen, who was staring at the black circle. The world belonged to Darkness all right; and it was never going to be the same.
