AN: A reviewer of my story, X3Runner, gave me a few great ideas to incorporate into this story. He's over on . I just wanted to give him a shoutout because he's been a great dude, and I wanted to thank him. This time, I wanted to take a break from Whitley, and put more focus into his masters, Samael Hord and Hadrian Kallig. With that said, enjoy!

Whitley yawned, rising up from the floor. His blackened hands rubbing over his eyes.

Wait a minute….

Did he...did he fall asleep, listening to Hadrian's lecture? How strange. He must've been more tired from yesterday's workout than he realized. He slowly got up from the floor, ready to reapply the Mask. Hadrian appeared from the holocron in front of him.

"Rise and shine, sleeping deformity! We have a great deal to accomplish today!"

Whitley glared at his master. "Just...give me a minute, please." Whitley went to the bathroom, turning on the faucet. He splashed some water into his eyes.

"I remember you telling me about the Sith species and the origins of the Sith Order. Did I fall asleep after that? I don't remember anything that happened afterwards."

Hadrian shook his head. "Right as I was about to begin, your eyes started to droop. I was a little frustrated and was going to wake you up rather forcefully, but Samael chose that moment to wake up and told me of his plan. It was rather ingenious, and I have to admit, I am a little angry that I did not think of it at first, but basically, Samael had me break into your sleeping mind and have me impart my lecture from there. Not only are we now able to multitask, it's places much less of a strain on my powers, which will do wonders for your training! Ah, the miracles of the scientific mind."

Whitley gazed at his master, confused. "You sound like you admire him."

Hadrian glanced upwards, his manic grin replaced by a concentrated frown. "Samael always was an interesting man. Always fancied himself more as a scientist and inventor, rather than a warrior, and yet, his strength and his study of the lightsaber was second to none. Believe it or not, when he was your age, he was primed to becoming a member of the Imperial Science Bureau, the youngest in several centuries. That's when everything changed."

Hadrian sighed, turning to his apprentice.

"He lost his entire family to the Jedi. They came to his ancestral home, and wiped the Hords out. Men, women, children, it did not matter to those emotionless drones. Their duty commanded them to destroy the Dark Side at any cost, and so they did, with a sickening proudness. Samael only survived through sheer luck, but not without taking a lightsaber through the chest. His father's closest friend, Darth Marr, begged Samael to try and continue with his career, but Samael wouldn't hear it. He travelled the galaxy, trained every day, just to learn the different ways on how to kill a Jedi. He studied under various teachers and learned their techniques. Hell, at 14, Samael even went as far as to learn how to use various firearms to use against a Jedi. Should've seen the way he handled a blaster. Oh, the look on poor Agetol's face." Hadrian chuckled.

Whitley sat down. It was obvious his master hadn't meant to share so much, but it was clear that he needed to talk about it.

"Master, do you wish to talk? About...your past? Your friends?"

Hadrian sighed again, then turned towards his apprentice.

"I suppose...an hour or two wouldn't hurt."

Hadrian turned upwards, a nostalgic look coming across his features

"Before Samael and I met, I was a slave in the gladiatorial pits. Before that, I was hardly treated any better. My parents neglected, and eventually abandoned me for my sibling when I was only 2 years old, and they gave me to my aunt and uncle. I didn't remember my parents for a long time, I had been told they had died when I was a baby."

At this, Hadrian's fists started to curl.

"And there, I was somehow treated even worse. A slave, in all but name, for eight years. These marks you see on my face are a combination of the injuries I sustained from them and an incident that occured to me later in life. Same as you, minus the burn scars…"

At this, Whitley touched his face. Hadrian coughed, almost embarrassed.

"...but anyways, I'm getting off topic. When I reached 11 years of age, I received the nastiest shock of my life. My parents, whom I had believed long dead, were alive. I had a brother that had grown in the lap of luxury, while I had been beaten and burned for being a freak in the view of my aunt. My parents came to pick me up when they realized they could no longer ignore me and the power growing within me. They pretended that I hadn't suffered, that they hadn't chosen to throw me about because I wasn't as powerful as my baby brother to them. It made me furious."

Hadrian snarled, lightning started to flare around his body.

"Did they seriously expect me to forget it all? That they had effectively left me to die because I wasn't good enough for them?! No. No no no no, I was not going to let them get away with it. Not after everything that had befallen me. I made a nuisance of myself. I called every lawyer, every rival my dear father had, and did my absolute best to crucify his public reputation. However, in my rage, I had gravely underestimated my father. By the time my dear family had reunited with me, he had a reputation greater than a saint! In the eyes of the society I was a part of, my family could do no wrong, whatsoever, and I soon learned that no matter what I did, no one would ever touch my father. He was simply too powerful. After the fiasco I made, I decided to lay low and plan my revenge. Alas, it was not to be. A year later, an..incident, occurred in my school, involving the murder of those in a lower class of the society I was a part of. My father, seeing the opportunity to get rid of me for good, had all the blame pinned on me, and had me thrown in prison. The rest of the world followed suit in blaming me for what happened, since it was my father who accused his own son of wrongdoing, and he could not POSSIBLY be wrong! He loved his sons! It must've torn him to pieces to accuse his own child!"

At this, Hadrian turned to Whitley

"For three years, I languished in that prison. Whatever horror stories you hear about prisons in this world or Samael's world, it was nothing. Nothing, compared to that tiny island, where your hopes, dreams, your own bloody soul, was feasted on by creatures who delighted in your suffering. I should have died, many times over, but my hatred of the society I had unwittingly joined, my fury at my father, and the thought of revenge, kept me alive. I clung to those ideas like a drowning man, even as my skin paled and my skeletal body thinned. One day, when I had turned 15 years old, I experienced a flash of light, and was thrown into a sandy pit"

Hadrian laughed, without mirth.

"Just my luck. I had been thrown from one hell to another. At least there weren't any soul suckers this time. The Pits were harsh, but I had already survived so much, I would not die now."

At this, a spiked chain began to materialize, black as night and surrounded by spikes that resembled small knives.

"Ah, Daggertail, what fond memories I hold of you. I spent two years in the Pits, fighting day in and day out, learning the brutal art of the chain whip and how to best use it. One day, I met him."

Whitley leaned forward "Who?" he asked, thought he already had an idea who it was.

"Samael." Hadrian replied, confirming Whitley's suspicions. "He had heard of a gladiator experienced with a chain whip, and realized that there was more to me than what met the eye. He came to me in the aftermath of a match."

Suddenly, the world started to distort.

"What the hell?!" Whitley and Hadrian shouted, before an image of a sandy pit appeared in front of them.

Whitley was stunned, and Hadrian was rubbing his chin thoughtfully.

"How strange. I was not expecting this, at all."

The image played, almost like a film. They saw a pale man with a hideous burn scar across his face, panting in exhaustion.

"Wait, that's him!", Whitley thought. "That's Hadrian!"