Another update so soon! Enjoy--here is a further step into Revan's past.
A final blinding flurry, and his weapon knocked free of his hand, rattling loudly on the floor as it skittered away. Distracted by the loss of his lightsaber, he left himself unguarded. I took the opening, jumped and planted my left boot in his stomach while bringing up my right leg: I intended to back flip and land in front of him at the ready. Instead of falling back from my kick, he absorbed the blow and doubled over. His chin crashed down into my knee as I was lifting it up, preparing my spin. His head snapped back from the contact. I was pleased with the unexpected injury to him, it must have looked like I planned it, but the impact stole my momentum—I would not make it completely around to land properly. I tucked tightly, extinguished my light saber and hit the ground rolling. Somehow I managed to stand gracefully despite my throbbing knee and dizziness from the tumble. I looked over to him: finally, he was sprawled on the ground. I pounced at him, straddling his hips as I crushed his wrists under my knees. Blood trickled from his nose and mouth. I leaned closer, noticing a glistening in his eyes.
"Learn your place, Malak," I hissed. "You will always be beneath me," I sneered. "Always, in all things. What do you have to say to that?"
"I'm sorry," he whispered as he turned his head to the side and shut his eyes.
I frowned, then pushed myself up away from him. My knee was burning now; I stood still for a moment to allow it to adjust to my weight. I straightened my training tunic and stared down at him, at my handiwork: his knight's robes were reduced to rags: shredded and tattered and seared with lightsaber burns. I smiled and turned away. I forced myself to walk with control and composure; I would not allow him to see he had caused me pain again, in any form.
Suddenly I noticed the silence. I looked around; a sea of faces stared at me. The training arena of the academy had come to a complete standstill to watch my match with Malak. Apprentices and masters alike were riveted. I saw an even mixture of shock and appreciation for my skill. I acknowledged none of them as I continued towards the door. Whispers and murmurs began to float around the room. A small boy excitedly tried to mimic my moves, slashing wildly with his wooden practice blade. Master Zhar grabbed him quickly.
"Settle down, young one, you have many days ahead of you before you reach her level, if ever." He turned to the assembled. "I suggest you return to your assigned tasks," he said sternly.
The crowd began to disperse. I made my way to the doorway, then allowed myself to rest in the hall before limping away. My knee was swelling at an alarming rate. I applied a measure of healing Force to the area, but that only stunted the pain for the briefest of moments. Damn Malak, I thought, another wound I helped him give to me. I began to think on how he would pay for this one when I felt a hand on my shoulder. I spun quickly, my light saber at the ready. Master Zhar took a step back, his face a portrait of shocked despair.
"I came to see if you were well. I see you are not," he intoned sadly as he regained his composure.
"I am sorry, Master," I stammered, lowering my saber's hilt and replacing it on my belt. "You startled me, I was lost in thought."
"You are in a safe place among friends, you should have not reacted that way," he admonished. I lowered my head and looked away. "This anger and hatred in you is…unsettling. They are the first steps on the path to the dark side."
"I am not falling, Master. My anger is for Malak only," I breathed, still staring at my feet.
"Animosity for one allows it to blossom for many. Once the door is opened, anything can enter—or leave you. Often it is not so much that you come to be filled with hate, but that you lose your sense of respect for the lives of others."
"Malak deserves no respect, from me or from anyone," I growled.
"You realize he was not fighting back," he said flatly. "He seemed uninterested in defending himself against your assault."
"If that is so, then maybe it is because he knows he cannot defend himself," I offered.
"How long do you intend to punish him?" he asked bluntly. The words were unexpected.
"You do not know what he did!" I yelled back as I turned my gaze towards him, shocked and startled by his perception. How much did he know? I sensed the heat flushing my cheeks: I was ashamed of the way Malak took control, took advantage. I never spoke of it to anyone. I quickly returned my stare back to the floor.
"I know he used you to promote himself and further his own goals," Zhar said with a calm even voice. My shoulders slumped, then stiffened. Did everyone understand how Malak treated me? Could they all see it except me? Why was I so stupid not to realize?
"So everyone knows what an idiot and fool I am," I grumbled.
"Is it so bad, Revan? You benefited from his plans, did you not?" I looked at him with confusion and astonishment. "His pride was wounded by your success in all he could not accomplish. He sought to share your glory rather than acknowledge it could never be his in his own right. To that end, he encouraged you to improve, hoping you would take him along. You lacked ambition, he lacked ability. You completed one other. Neither of you would have advanced to this level alone."
"Riding my coattails is an acceptable method of achieving rank in the Jedi academy?" I strained to keep from shouting. I remembered back to the day we got our padawan robes: Vandar had told me Malak fought for his, while I earned mine. Even then, I realized now, they knew he was using me.
"I do not think he was aware of his actions, Revan. His subconscious sought in you that which he wanted. In turn, you received from him that which you needed. The Force brought you together to accomplish its will. As I said, you are both halves of a whole." The idea disgusted me.
"He knew exactly what he was doing," I growled, thinking of his actions that day in our room, in our bed. "He should be stripped of his ranking, he did not earn his robes."
"Is that why you target his clothing so ferociously? Revan, if I cannot convince you to forgive and forget what Malak has done, I must ask you stop shredding his robes. Replacing them is costing the Council a fortune."
I looked up at him and began to smirk despite myself. He too winked and allowed a small smile to play on his lips. I burst out laughing; it felt good, the first time I had laughed in a long while.
"Now there is the Revan I know," he said with warmth. "You best get to the infirmary and have that knee looked at. That was an impressive, but foolish move," he conceded. I considered letting him know it was accidental, but allowed him to believe it was deliberate—it was impressive.
"I will be fine, I am going to my room," I muttered.
"I am scheduled to return to Dantooine next month. I give you the chance to journey with me. Maybe some time away from Coruscant will allow you the peace that has eluded you recently."
"Thank-you, Master, I will consider your offer."
"And think on my words, Revan, I do not wish to see you give in to hatred and anger. I fear this thirst for vengeance can only lead to your undoing."
"I will, Master Zhar," I said as I limped away.
I had barely made it to my room when a soft tapping came from my door. I considered ignoring it; all I wanted to do was rest and concentrate on healing my throbbing knee. Zhar's words swirled in my mind; anger and hatred, the dark path…all things I had heard before a million times over. Forgive and forget he told me—never. How could I ever forgive? And I knew I could not, would not forget. Zhar did not understand, no one did; Malak deserved this, and more. I was more than justified to feel this way. I only wished I could figure a way to make him suffer the same anguish he had caused me. Beating him, humiliating him in front of the children was not enough.
The tapping on the door grew more urgent; odd, I thought, why not use the comm? Now curious, I dragged myself to the controls and pressed the button. Malak appeared in the doorway, still in his tattered robes. His chin was starting to bruise, the swelling evident. My eyes narrowed to slits as I reached for the door control panel.
"No," he said quickly, his hand reaching up. Involuntarily, I recoiled from his attempted touch. His face became pained and he brought his arm back limply to his side.
"What?" I rasped at him.
"Please, Revan, please. I am sorry. I cannot say it enough…"
"No, you can't," I spat.
"I miss you," he said sadly after a pause.
"I'm sure you do!" I roared back. "It's funny, now that I think about it—how you stood on me to make yourself even taller. Hmmph, you basked in my light for so long, you cast my shadow."
"No, that's not what I mean…I miss who you were," he said avoiding my eyes.
"That Revan is gone, dead," I yelled, realizing it myself as I said the words. "You killed her. I was naive, innocent, I admit it. You took advantage, took it away, and I let you. Maybe I should thank you for the lesson."
He winced at the outburst, his eyes squeezing shut tightly. He slumped a bit as he turned his head away.
"I trusted you, I thought you loved me," I whispered, my voice failing as unguarded thoughts tumbled from my lips.
"I did…I do," he returned quickly.
I snorted incredulously. "So, if that is love, then I know why the Masters forbid it. I would have been much better off without your affection."
"I know," he breathed. "I want to try to make it right. You've lost your way. I want to help you find it again. It is the only thing I can think of to make it up to you."
"Make it up!" I simply could not believe what I was hearing. "As if I could ever trust you again after how you treated me, what you did." My voice became shrill and thin.
"I didn't know what I was doing," he began.
"You pretend to stand there claiming ignorance? You knew exactly what you were doing when you threw me down and…" I could not bring myself to say any more, but the memory commanded my mind. When he had finished, he sat at the edge of the bed, his face in his hands, his shoulders hunched over. I quietly got up, collected my things and left—I never returned.
"I know what I did, I didn't know why. I understand now," he pleaded. "I did not realize it fully at the time, but I was jealous, Revan, of all your talent, the way the Force came to you so easily, the way you bested me at everything. Worse yet, you did not even appreciate your power, how effortlessly you defeated me. It was all a game to you. You weren't even trying and you still did everything better than I could. There was only one thing I could do that you could not. So that day, when you took control, looked down at me…."
"That's not…" I started, but the words froze in my throat. I felt tears stinging in my eyes; the first time I cried over the incident. "I never treated you or even thought of you as anything but my friend, my equal, my partner," I choked out, my voice cracking in an unsteady warble. "That day, that time seemed special, and I wanted to look into your eyes, share that moment, our togetherness," I sobbed, my words heaving out unevenly.
Malak slumped against the doorframe and slid to the floor as his knees buckled. I suppose he didn't know why I had taken that action, why I wanted to be that way with him, and learning the truth, the reason, crushed him. Through the Force I felt his despair, his sense of loss and anguish. There was a stabbing pain in his heart with each tortured beat. He pounded his fist on the ground as he remained a crumpled heap at my feet. He genuinely regretted it all, even more so now. Maybe until that point he thought he had a small measure of justification for what he did, but hearing me explain erased this last shred of pride and righteousness, this false hope of his that just a little, he wasn't completely in the wrong.
Something deep inside of me fluttered, and I smiled. I had finally hurt him as thoroughly as he had hurt me. I had taken something from him, that feeling of security that comes only from a lie one tells the self to make things all right. He knew just how wrong he had been, in every way, and it spiked through him with an unimaginable agony. I wanted to make sure he would know this pain every day of his life, as I did. I struggled to hide my smile as I realized how I would repay his "love." So he thought he could atone, he could pick up the pieces and glue me back together? Fine, let him think that: I would willfully go against his counsel at every turn, do things that wounded him to witness by my hand… and I would keep him at my side so he would miss none of it.