Author Note: Yo! I want to say first, thank you everyone that has followed, favorited, and read the chapters for this story. I greatly appreciate it, this is the final chapter of this part of the story...the end of the prologue. Still, thanks everyone for giving this a shot. After this chapter I am going to continue writing Jedi Outcast and I am so excited to come back to this story. Thanks again for reading. Please remember to follow, favorite, and review. Have a great day!


Chapter 3 - End of Prologue


There is no death, only the force.

One of the many tenants that one would learn during there early training as a Jedi. One of the most important lessons, to learn that when the shell eventually dies, the essence…the spirit, shall forever remain.

Ben had saw so much death within his life, that for a long time, he was conflicted about the very nature of the force. Yet, through his journey with the Avatar and his friends, he was able to come to terms and make peace with it.

He had witnessed the death of the Jedi Order twice in his life. The first, happening when Revan was about to win the Jedi Civil War. During the dark times, in which Jedi either fell by their blades or joined the Sith. The destruction of the order was evident and the Sith were going to win.

The second, when he had witnessed a vision so intense from the eyes of Grandmaster Zane. How he, and the remaining Jedi of the order wished to battle Sith in a 1v1. A foolish plan, but due to the Jedi's numbers ranging in the dozens, the loss of their political power, and there diminishing control of the force. They held no other option than this suicide mission.

He knew that things never lasted forever…and all he could do for his order was train his students, and unlike the Jedi of old, teach them to recognize mistakes and learn to correct them. Not by enforcing punishments or limitations, but to understand where the student or teacher went wrong and work from there.

But he never expected this, so soon. For the people to turn against the Jedi, on those that once valiantly served the world alongside the Avatar. The White Lotus and the other politicians, for them to turn on them so suddenly and quickly. But why?

Tomorrow never came for them. Rather, along the time before midnight could come, they struck. A crowd had grown outside of the temple. Hundreds of people sat upright with their features contorted. Horror, disgust, and fear etched into their features as they watched rings of explosions detonate throughout the halls of the temple.

Fire embers darted and chocked the crowd with plumes of smoke. The crowd, the average person held no idea of what was going on. Why the Republic City Force was not allowing firefighters or waterbendors to aid in extinguishing the fires. Rather, this was going to be another silent death for the Jedi.

Another death, like around the time of Grandmaster Zane. Where the Jedi would be picked off like cattle…and killed like animals. But the politicians and the governments failed to recognize the difference between Ben's Jedi order and the orders of old, their ability to learn from their mistakes and to adapt.

A powerful whirring erupted throughout the city. The walls of the temple slowly buckled and stretched, pushing forth as the crowd gazed in confusion. What was going on?

Then, it happened. The thropters, with their insect like design and their bug like whirring as they sparked to life. A blend of small fighters used for scouting and short missions, while there were other heavier thopters used for mass migrations.

The people of this crowd watched with wide eyes as the thopters whirred and sped throughout the sky. The Jedi would not die today, rather they would escape. Throughout the academies Ben had prepared them for a scenario. "Run away, enable the traps for the secret archives in the temples, and go to a hidden enclaves to continue the training…and wait for further orders."

Throughout the world, this order was radioed. Throughout the four nations, each master of the temple followed the orders. Utilizing the thopters as a quick and safe way to escape. Locking, trapping, and safeguarding the ancient relics of both Jedi and Sith, that could not fall into the wrong hands.

But right now, this was Ben's moment. As the temple burned and smoke chocked the air as the majority of Jedi escaped into the unknown to battle against this new threat. A Jedi and his children rushed to accomplish the final steps of the plan.

Ben, Isaac, and Meetra moved through the burning halls of the temple. There lightsaber blades ignited as Meetra and Ben's lightsabers, in a blaze of martial might cleaved through the waves of Republic city forces.

"Meetra, watch out for their metal bending!"

Her father's voice filled her ears as she dodged a boulder bent from the stone foundation. Dodging another blow as her emerald blade sparked to life, cleaving an arch along a trio of corrupt Republic City guardsman down.

"Crap, dad!" She screamed. Gripping a soldier by the throat with the force, wrenching him through the crowd as his body tailed into his comrades. "They're everywhere!"

"I know, Meetra!" he said. His bronze blade ignited in the two-handed grip of Shien. A mighty cleave echoing as he struck. Bisecting a guardsman's officer as the men backed up from him, continuing his feral advance as he cleaved and cut down any that got in there way.

Isaac followed behind. His heart beating along his chest, sweat bearing down on him, his eyes wavering as he felt the great death that was taking place. His father and sister, always fighting, a blend of both martial and force might as he shook in his boots. They were jedi, and he was not.

"Father, there up on the roof…the roof!"

Ben's golden eyes widened as he tilted his head up. The guardsman had decided to sneak up on them, a whole squadron utilizing their metal bending cables as they latched them to the stone ceiling. "Damn it!" Ben's voice echoed through the hall.

He snapped his right hand up like a claw, the sparks of purple force lightning erupting from his palm. Then, the guardsman crumpled to the floor as they skidded and shuttered as their dead bodies still frequented with volts.

Isaac's eyes widened, his lightsaber shaking as he could only watch. Meetra felt the force, a bearing of precognition funneling through her movements. "Isaac, get down!"

Isaac instantly heeded his sisters warning as he lurched downwards. His body crumpling as a guardsman aimed his metal bending wire towards him, but Meetra was quicker. Lashing out her left hand the wire was instantly wrenched, caught within metal bending and the force. Meetra wrenched the wire back towards the guardsman, as it pincered through his throat.

"Are you okay, Isaac?" Meetra's voice echoed along his ear. Gripping him by the shoulder as she pulled him back up. Then, he looked upon her and his father. The way the bodies, ranging in the dozens that they had piled up. An old man, and a young woman. They were able to take on a battalion of soldiers, republic city's guardsman…fell under the power of two great Jedi.

His father's breath rang hollow, his chest rising and falling as cuts and scars lined his body. He had discarded and tossed off the heavy tabard of his Jedi robes. Now blanketed with the medium combat robes of a Jedi Knight. Even an old man, Isaac could see the way his muscles tensed and ached. He could see the wild and battle-hardened look of his father.

He was instantly reminded of the stories he was told, and he thought back to his father's and sister's own words. There were two truths and two stories, the story told to the world of his father and the century long war, and the true story of what happened during the war.

He had seen for a split second the wild warrior that was able to take on the Sith…the blazing ray of light that lingered deep within the darkness. The stories he was told of honor, battles, and avenging lost friends and families. For a second, they were muddled by the battle and exhilaration that filled his father's features.

He took a deep breath. Evening himself out as Ben turned towards his daughter and son. Meetra also held the same stature of her father. Her muscles tensed along the grip of her lightsaber, humming and powerful, but her saber hand still rapidly shook from the adrenaline that still flooded through her.

Cuts from the wires, earth bending, and the debris caused from the battle had sliced into her. She kept her heavy tabard and Jedi Robes on. But they were nicked and torn. She had a slight cut along her cheek that luckily didn't damage her eye. But her braiding and hair was wild, thrown into the will of battle.

But Isaac himself, was fine. He still bore his training robes and held his own orange blade. But his father's bronze and sisters' emerald had saw and touched blood. He glossed down to the eye of his weapon, why hadn't he not fought, why did he hold back?

He heard fabric rip. His father raising Meetra's left arm as he slowly began to wrap it around her left hand. "Dad, I am…"

"Shush, Meetra," He chided. "I don't need you bleeding out on me. We must finish the mission, turn on the security for the archives. Then, we can escape."

Isaac took a deep breath, only nodding his head. Following behind his sister and father as they continued down the hall. Now, stopping in front of a pair of massive double doors. Ben and his family made their way in front of it. Ben taking a deep breath as he closed his eyes, lurching into the force.

"Good, no one has been able to get in." He muttered.

Another reason of why Ben rebuilt the corps…was especially for the important of the Jedi Exploration Corps. A mixture of Knights, Apprentices, and those that did not wish to follow the path of a Knight. The corps were made to find, identify, and contain artifacts of both Jedi but primarily those of Sith origins.

Yet there only defense was not just a pair of stone doors. Techno beast forged from force alchemy, powered by the living and light side of the force guarded the halls. Numerous traps, failsafe's, and winding corridors were made to either kill or immobilize any intruders, and junk guardians…mechanical automatons bearing plasma weaponry in the shape of lightsabers.

The Temple may be destroyed, set aflame, or annihilated. But the bunker containing the relics of the past shall never be touched upon by the hands of evil. He brushed along the stone of the massive door. Feeling the dark taint and light side aura of the objects.

Grandmasters Zane lightsaber crystal shards, Celeste Morne's lightsaber blade, and numerous Jedi Holocrons throughout the years. Both made from Ben's galaxy and recovered from Jedi's own that were built within this world. Yet, there was a darkness as well.

The three Lords of The Sith Dynasty. There weapons, robes, lightsabers were locked away down here. Lord Ruin's, Exar Kun's, and Syn's Holocron were here as well. Mounds of abandoned Sith lightsabers from the reformed Sith that joined Ben as they left the Sith behind, teachings of dark side alchemy and holocrons, and weapons of dark side purposes.

They had been sealed away and protected against the hands of evil. But if they were ever released from there confinement…it could lead to another golden age of the Sith.

"Isaac, someone is coming," Ben spoke. "The code is, Vong, for those that can't feel the force."

Isaac mulled over the strange words for a second. Turning off the weapon as he made his way towards the keypad. Putting in the code as he began to turn on the extra security before they could make their escape.

A crowd had slowly begun to move towards them. At first, Ben had expected them to be a group of knights that disobeyed him and wished to aid him in the temples defense. There black clocks pulled over their heads, there lightsabers…strangely near identical along their belts.

There was about five of them in a group, but Ben's eyes widened as he felt it…a feeling he had not felt in many years. It contrasted the sinister nature of the Dark Side cult Meetra had helped defeat. It was a cool fan against the roaring heat of the light side that filled the world, a darkness that was illuminated and cowered underneath the harsh glow of light.

The Dark Side cults and resurgences within this world were similar. Usually, a force sensitive that had gotten corrupted. Usually being worshipped as a deity or a god to a simple-minded tribe that still were primitive in there tribalistic beliefs. Usually, they would either be influenced by a piece of old Dark Side teachings or items.

But they were few and far between. Something to stomp out before they had grown into prominence, but this one was different. Because it felt so familiar, for a second, he felt like he was sixteen again. A great darkness had etched within his psyche as he instinctively turned back to his children.

Meetra and Isaac's eyes both widening as they felt the darkness emanate, a darkness that they had never experienced or felt. A great darkness had just reveled itself. And despite all his power, Ben did not know what was going to come. He was an old man now, and he wasn't sure if he could protect his family. A new type of evil has been birthed within this world…their childhood, especially Isaac's, was at its end.

They pulled down their hoods as the scarlet of their lightsabers sparked to life. "Father!" Meetra cried out as she rushed to his side.

They all bore near identical heavy jedi robes. The sleek elegance was crude, almost looking like they were patched by hand. There lightsabers were each identical and utilitarian in design as Ben could feel the synthetic crystals of each whir in the power of the dark side.

But it was their faces. Each wearing pale face paint with a massive red circle dotted along the center of their forehead.

"Dad, are they another dark side cult, or are they merely Dark Jedi that evaded…"

But her father's shaking head caused her to stutter and cease her speaking. "No, look upon them, Meetra," he said. "We killed all the dark jedi that refused to surrender in Lord Rowan's compound nearly two decades ago, there too young to be like them. But look upon the way they hold their lightsabers…"

Meetra slowly trailed her eyes towards the ignited weapons, to the gloved hands that held them. Her eyes widening as she began to understand. "There students, at the academy, or they were trained by one."

As Ben, Ty Lee, and Haru rebuilt the Jedi Order. There was a common issue within the second and third class of The New Jedi Order. Lightsaber forms, while many had grown up in sword wielding cultures. Many men and woman struggled to learn the lightsaber forms. This, compared to the first and second classes which were comprised of the redeemed Sith that Jedi Master James was able to reform struggled with the physical side of the force. Things had to change.

So, the invention of the fast, medium, and strong stances of lightsaber combat was created. A unique way of training apprentices how to utilize lightsaber blades by combining three forms into one. Though, it was hard for students to learn the individual forms of lightsaber combat. They were able to defend themselves by streaming all their talents and efforts into one.

Yet, it was weaker than learning a singular form of lightsaber combat, it allowed the young Jedi to learn to defend themselves until they learned the proper technique to use a lightsaber. Ben had known that some of his apprentices and knights still utilized the fast, medium, and strong forms. How even some masters would teach their difficult students those forms first before going into the harder ones of the original jedi order.

But it was something completely taught within the halls of this New Jedi Order…for these Dark Jedi to know such things. They were either students or were trained by a member. Both were scary possibilities.

The Sith moved forward at a decent pace as Meetra eyed the faces. Difficult through their face paint and the strong connection to the dark side they displayed. She had fought against Dark Jedi and force infused tribals years ago. But they felt different, far stronger and refined.

"These are the last of the Jedi within the temple. The rest have either evacuated or have fallen under our will. Finish them, and Dark Lord's Amon's will shall be finished."

'Dark Lord Amon?' Ben's thoughts echoed. A ping of stress and fear darted along his thoughts, but he took a deep breath.

How many weak Dark Lords have there been throughout history…Malak did not hold the strength of Revan, but he ripped the mantle of dark lord in an unfair and cowardly attack. For all he knew, these Sith were nothing more than pretenders trying to bring old legends back to life. But he did not have a feeling that these Sith were like the old Sith Dynasty of this world…rather, they felt stronger.

Ben chuckled, feeling the stress ebb off him. The action causing Meetra to stutter, but a smile began to dart along her face. If her father did not feel fear, then she had nothing to fear from these dark jedi pretenders.

"What, no demand for us to surrender…Sith." He snapped as he gripped his weapon once again with both hands.

The ringleader one. His long dark hair flashing along the orange glow of Sith Orange, the sign of dark side deterioration already evident. "I shall not make the mistakes of The Sith Dynasty, or that fool Lord Rowan. All Jedi, and their teachings must be eradicated from this world!"

The father and daughter duo met along the Sith's mark. There lightsabers clashing and humming as they fought against the dark jedi onslaught. Ben's lightsaber snapped to meet each dark jedi's blows. While his daughter was providing a decisive counter against two, he was handling the other three.

His weapon clashed and simmered, throwing himself upwards in a backflip. His right-hand slamming into the earth as a shockwave knocked the two dark jedi to their feet. Ben bringing his weapon in an overhand swing clashed hard against the main leader of the squadron of Dark Jedi.

There flurry of attacks darting, clashing, and echoing through the halls with vibrant display of sparks that illuminated the other's features. But as Ben watched and fought, each blow racking and pushing the other down. He could see the faint and familiar features, of his apprentice.

"Ethan…" He slowly murmured. Throwing himself away as the other apprentice's heads still bogged and struggled to rise from the earlier shockwave. "It's you."

Ethan, the son of Thomas. He was the son of one of the reformed Sith that helped educate his Sith Acolytes of the light and helped them turn away from the darkness.

He had trained Ethan within the Jedi ways, but Ben had become his formal master. He had even walked the path of the Jedi Watchman…Ben's eyes went towards the other members of the Sith Squad. Some he could not recognize, but he saw in another the familiar features of another apprentice.

"Ethan, what are you doing!" He snapped. His apprentice's features warped once again into malice and anger. Gripping the blade tighter. "You're a Jedi, what are you doing with these Sith!"

"Don't lie to me, again, Master." The dark jedi sparked.

"Lie…again?" He questioned. "What are you talking about. I've trained you the best that I could. I sent you, Noatak, and Rachel to the Northern Water Tribe for reconnaissance. How the hell did you come back like Sith!"

"I can ask you the same question, Master." He spoke, the last word etched like venom. "I've learned from Dark Lord Amon the truth behind your veil of lies. You taught us to know of the Light, and to beware the darkness…but you held us back!"

Ben shook his head. "No, I have always been truthful with you. I've always educated you too not fear the dark side, but to never submit or give into it!"

He chuckled. "You think, any of us wanted this?" He stretched out his hand. The Dark Jedi rising as they once again gripped their lightsabers. "We never wanted to release our legions of Sith. Together, we shall banish the ignorance of the Jedi…but you betrayed me, you betrayed us all, you stole knowledge of the Sith. And lied to your apprentices, we have one chance to prosper…and if you are too weak to steal it, then we will!"

Ben caught himself as the Sith were tossed back into the fray. Meetra had ducked underneath a scarlet blade, force pulling her blade into her other hand as she impaled the Sith through his chest.

Ben dodged and weaved, bringing up his weapon again to block Ethan's attacks. "Don't make me do this, Ethan!" He pleaded. "Your father fought against the Sith, he…"

"If he knew of what you truly were, he would've spit in your face and laughed at you," He spoke. Both men saber locking as Ethan's orange locked along Ben's golden eyes. "Fucking hypocrite." He snarled.

Isaac slammed along the keys of the pad. Finally able to get the defenses up and running. But not a minute too soon he felt a spike along the back of his head. The force took over his movements as he lurched away. A fireball had just erupted from his side as he lurched his head.

Men in a blend of white and light blue robes had appeared. 'White Lotus officials, but what the hell are they…'

His father's words echoed along his thoughts. Not only the Republic City Guardsman, The Sith, but the White Lotus members had turned on them as well.

"Meetra, look out!"

But the warning came too soon. A fireball lurched towards her impacted the left of her back, throwing her hard along the stone wall. Her lightsaber turning off as her eyes shuttered to a close. A smoldering smoke rising from the fabric of her robe.

"Meetra!" His voice funneled as his ignited lightsaber casted off an orange glow. Pushing himself forward, but he was going to be too late.

The Dark Jedi Meetra had been dueling stood over her. His tongue along his lips as he was about to bring down the scarlet of his lightsaber blade and finish her off. "Die, Sith spawn!" His father's voice echoed. The roar following, the power of the force scream sending the White Lotus advancing members thrown to either the floor or the walls, some splatting in bloody messes of gore, while others screamed from the broken limbs.

Ben's lightsaber cleaved an arch along the Dark Jedi's torso. Effectively bisecting him as Ben thrown himself in front of Meetra. Staring down at the advancing Dark Jedi, the hurt White Lotus members, and he could feel mass movement down the tunnel. He believed that there was more Guardsman.

More fireballs, water bending, and earth bending lurched towards him. But with a blend of force abilities and lightsaber slashes, they proved ineffective. Another dark jedi moved towards Ben in a clumsy display of skill, only for his head to be lopped off with a singular elegant slash.

A White Lotus firebendor moved towards Ben. Only for Isaac to lurch forward in a force augmented jump, his foot impacting along the man's cheek as he felt bone crush underneath his heel.

He was launched away as the dark jedi's lightsabers clashed against his own. "The defenses are finished, dad. I won't let you fight alone!"

He broke free from the saber lock, the adrenaline flooding his movements as he thrown a blast of force energy down the hall. Knocking down and throwing away the approaching group of Guardsman.

"No!"

His father's voice snapped him out of his adrenaline-fueled state. His father's wraith, illuminated along his features as he rushed to defend and slaughter more of the approaching enemies. "Every moment you stay here. You endanger your sister's life…take her and pilot the thopter out of here. Head to Zaofu or one of the academies. She is dying!"

"But father…"

Ben's bronze blade impacted along two sabers. He threw his head backwards as he saw a dark jedi leap overhead in a surprise attack. Only for Ben to form a beam, force destruction. Aiming it at the Dark Jedi as he was instantly blown up and decorated the walls.

"You're putting your own desires above everything; don't you see Isaac. Your goals, your commitments, your loyalties for a desire to fight with me. Look at your sister," Isaac felt the tears sting along the corner of his eyes as he looped Meetra's lightsaber to his belt, bringing her closer as he gave a final look to his father. "You're a Wilum, Isaac. Help your sister to the shuttle…and leave!"

He watched the hurt register over his sons features. He knew, that deep down that Isaac didn't want to leave him. Hell, if he was more like his father, he would've defied reason and would've fought alongside him.

That was Ty Lee's part of him…the smart part. "I love you, son. But go…go!" He repeated. Only smirking as he heard his son's footsteps go as he dragged along his sister.

Good, if his children were safe and alive…then it meant that he had won. He clicked his neck as he saw the roaring horde of Guardsman, White Lotus members, and The Sith. More Dark Jedi had entered the fray, some he had recognized, while some he had never seen before.

"So, this is what I get…for decades of service to this world." Ben remarked with a sneer. His eyes darting towards his apprentice's features. He knew, that looking for guilt would do him no good. The Dark Side filled people with a sinister euphoria. Made them believe that within their power…they were absolute, that they were right.

It was always within those moments of clarity…in which they were finally able to realize who they truly were. Animals, monsters, simple murderers with lightsabers. He knew because he had once experienced the same.

"Have any last words, master?" Ethan's voice rose along the tunnel.

Yet, Ben smiled, lashing out his left hand as one of the lightsabers from the dead dark jedi made its way into his own hand. Bringing both weapons as he snapped it to life, a powerful clash of two blades of plasma echoing as he stared down at the roaring hordes.

"Come at me. One at a time, or all at once. I don't give a damn!" He screamed. Teeth flashing as they gnashed like a rabid dog. But he was a Jedi Master, and he felt no anger…only righteuse justice filled his movements. "I am Benjamin Wilum, Grandmaster of The Jedi Order. A servant of the force. None of you shall pass!"


"Isaac…what happened!"

Haru's voice filled the tunnel. His granddaughters by his side as he gasped, his eyes wavering as he lurched towards Haru. "My father, he enabled the defenses on the temple…and Meetra. She…"

Zana looked upon the wound. "Grandfather, the wound is bad. She needs to go to a hospital right now!"

Haru nodded. "Hysa, Zana. Carry Meetra, there is only one thropter left and that's on the top level."

Then, it happened. A powerful blast shook the temple. Fires bucked and chew along the expanse as they could feel the taste of smoke along their tongue and nostrils. "That was on the ground levels." Hysa sparked up. "But wasn't that…"

Haru gripped the wall to him. His breath heavy as he stared at the downstairs portion. As he watched the flooded area of fire and debris that had slowly begun to rain down on them. His eyes began to widen, the tears already slowing starting to slip down his cheek.

Haru lunged towards him. His hands wrapping along Isaac as he held the boy, his own tears falling down his face. "Isaac, I know what you are thinking right now. But you must know that I did not feel it…just a darkness, it could be anything!"

But Isaac already knew, his heart knew, and the force knew…and he had never doubted the force. His mouth felt dry. His body shaking under Haru's grasp as he saw that smiling face of his father. How he felt his father's hands along his shoulder and the warmth of his hug.

What sort of cruel irony was this…to reunite them in so many months, only to be ripped away forever. "My father is dead."

He felt emptied, a shell without emotions. The last boy of the Wilum family…heir to the line of Jedi, but he was nothing. His father's face, his mother's face, and his sisters face. Like flashes of lightning, they cracked along his vision.

How many times had he messed around when he could've been by his sister's side, how many times could he have just been a better son?

His heart rampaged along his chest. Guilt, fear, sadness. A wallowing complexion of emotions ensnared him as he walked up the stairs like a robot. Why did he deserve to live, while a great man like his father was murdered by those he had once protected?

His footsteps echoed along his ears. Who was he? The only thing he is, was the son of two great Jedi and a powerful force sensitive. He had been partying, screwing around, and sneaking out. While his peers had fought to reach the ever-growing heights and aspired to become warriors of peace.

Instead, he had relied on his natural talent…and his own desires. Because he was the son of Benjamin, and due to an innate and powerful force potential. He had figured he would simply stream by the process of knighthood and become a Jedi when it was fun.

That was the son of Ben and Ty Lee. A man that had rebuilt the Jedi Order and fought against the waves of darkness, and his mother. A Fire Nation noble that lost everything but would be immortalized as one of the orders greatest historians and teachers.

His sister was already an accomplished Jedi Master that had defeated a Dark Side Cult. What the hell had he accomplished. Countless wins in a battle arena of practice, against a Jedi Master that held himself back?

'Was I fooling myself about my strength, this whole time…had I merely been deluded?'

He was nothing, he was so small…all those times in which he had bragged, he was merely fooling himself of what he truly was. A fool, a bully, a fraud. Who was he to get angry at Hysa?

While she tortured, trained, and fought her way to the top. Who was he to be jealous that his father for choosing her for missions, as he was left behind in the temple? He was a failure as a son, as a brother, and as a Jedi.

But there was something else, anger. It followed through his movements…blistering revenge followed through him. A dangerous heat, a powerful blaze of a fire began to spark from deep within. Fear slowly turned to rage.

He was afraid…of this changing world that had taken his father, his mother, and possibly his sister. But he would be damned if he didn't put up a fight.

They busted through free door as Haru quickly switched on the hanger door. Closing it behind them instantly as they felt the wind mingled with the smoke of explosions and bending. As Hysa, Zana, and Haru carried Meetra to the thropter to prepare for launch. There was a massive bang, an echoing greeting sound as the large doors were slowly being cranked open.

"Isaac, come on!" Haru's voice echoed along his eardrums.

Zana and Hysa hooked up Meetra to the cot. Zana swiftly applying medicinal sealant, dabbing along the burnt skin to treat the scarred skin. Haru fidgeted in his seat, flipping on the power, but it would take a while for thropter to gain enough power against these clotted winds. But then he looked outside of the view.

"Isaac!"

The door was wrenched open with the force, but Ethan…the dark jedi with burn wounds darting along his body was thrown backwards with a powerful force push. His back colliding along the stone floor as he raised his gaze.

Isaac…the son. His eyes narrowed in a glare as he looked upon Ethan, and he put his anger and rage onto the newly christened dark Jedi. He turned his head around, with a flick of his wrist the door slammed close with a mighty boom.

Turning back towards Ethan as the orange blade bathed him in a malevolent glare. Ethan chuckled, drawing back his lightsaber into both hands as the two apprentices glared at the other. "I won't run away from you or my destiny, not anymore."

His fingers clenched so hard along his lightsaber his knuckles turned white. Gripping the weapon in his vice like grip, the battle begun.

"You don't get it, Isaac." Ethan spoke. Both boys putting there might on the force and their weapons. "Your father is a liar; he has lied to us…to you of his past and the true nature of the Dark Side. If you knew the truth, then…"

"Shut your mouth, Sith spawn!"

Isaac broke from the saber lock. Darting along the Dark jedi as he casted his weapon in numerous directions and projections. The flurry of attacks creating a mess of sparks as each warrior bore down on the other.

The heat of rage had run through Isaac's sly demeanor like wax. Right now, at this moment…he wanted death, he wanted to kill. Savageness ran through his movements and fighting style. The once controlled Jedi Swordsman was gone, and now a grief-stricken child was all that remained.

Eyes narrowed, teeth bared, he snarled like a rabid animal. Powerful attacks flourishing and coursing through him as each slash along the crimson blade echoed for miles.

His breath had echoed along his body, his muscles tinged from exhaustion as he bore down harder and harder…but with a shocking expression, Ethan met his own.

Now, this was the true strength of a Jedi Master. The scarlet and Orange hummed as they met each other, but unlike Haru…Ethan did not hold back. He enmeshed himself into the force and shown Isaac the true strength of a master…without holding back.

Meanwhile, Haru and his granddaughters watched as Isaac was thrown through the stone wall. The only way he was able to be saved from death or lasting injuries was due to the crude last minute force barrier he had thrown up.

"Grandfather, if we don't go, Master Meetra will die!"

"Damn it, Hysa!" He snapped. "I know…"

Ethan reversed backflipped over Isaac. Bringing his blade down as Isaac rushed to defend. He would show Isaac the true difference, between talent and training. They crossed blades at the chest, the weapons sizzled as the marks sprayed along Isaac's shirt.

Ethan grunted as he broke through the saber lock. Isaac in overhead swings clashing and darting in left and right blows. Then, Ethan lashed out with a force push, knocking Isaac away. The blade slashing near his feet as Isaac skidded away.

He followed with the opening, leaping forward he tried to slash and cripple Isaac. But Isaac saw the opening in which Ethan had given. Isaac spun along his heels, switching his hold onto his weapon in a reverse grip as he tried to cut Ethan down his throat.

The blade sizzled along Ethan's chin and scarred along his throat, but it wasn't deep enough. He howled, staggered, and gasped as Isaac threw him away with a force blast of his own. Wrenching the debris from the stone as he hurled that at Ethan as well, only for the dark jedi to whirl his blade upwards as he separated it in half.

Whirling another force blast as Isaac prepared his barrier. But as he stood firm and strong, blood slipped from his nose and his mouth. The sides of his stomach hurt and it was growing ever heavier to utter a single breath. His broken ribs grounded along his kidney as he hissed, trying to suppress tears as he moved forward.

Ethan had recovered enough to charge. Attacking in all manner of directions as Isaac rushed to defend against the attacks. Ethan did not relent, the flawless attacks years crafted within this very academy could only be held back by Isaac's meager defense.

His talent wasn't enough. His sweat flew off him as is orange blade rushed to block and defend. But Ethan's sinister smile etched itself into his conciseness. His eyes wavering as he felt his body drain, had the force abandoned him as well…was this where he was going to die?

Training, if he had trained harder…if he didn't mess around and just gave it his all, would things have been different? Would his father still be alive, would his sister be proud of him…would he have survived and been able to be the son his father wanted?

No, he did not know, but he knew that this was where he would fall. Attacking in high, low, and overcuts he pushed further and further. Isaac could hear the scream as the thropters wings finally had enough air to properly function. But right now, he was fixated on trying to stay alive.

The scarlet of his lightsaber was everywhere and nowhere at once. Darting as a crimson line as Isaac's only salvation was his reflexes and his blessing of the force. But the nicking of plasma burns, his already bad wounds caused from Ethan…he already knew how this was going to end.

He paired left, right, again, and again but it was not enough. Breaking from another saber lock, he pulled his blade into his left hand to catch him off guard, but Ethan was clever. He darted the weapon across the emitter and stopped himself, streaming it downwards as a stinging and sizzling sensation overrode his nerves and his body. An intense pain so vivid and powerful, that he nearly passed out on the spot.

His lightsaber, the orange focusing crystal he had recovered from the crystal caves of the Water Tribe was destroyed. Two fingers on his left hand were cleaved off, lost to the wind and shattering foundation of the landing pad.

A front kick along his upper stomach and lower chest sent him away. Further ruining his ribs as he collided along the stone foundation. He heard the way the thropter began to move, and he wondered if Master Haru would be proud. Hell, maybe he would be happy that he was gone?

He felt exhaustion pain him, and he knew that this was it…some son, a failure that died before he could even finish his training. Hysa was right, he was no Jedi.

His eye was swollen, and he could hardly see anything from it…but he heard it, the creaking. He rose onto a knee as he felt it, how Ethan gripped the thropter with his control of the force. How he was going to crash it into one of the buildings.

He snapped his head towards the once Jedi Watchman. His right hand extended as he gripped a tighter hold along the ship. "You are strong, Isaac Wilum. But it is within your hate and anger, within your father's strength, the Dark Side,"

He could hear the groan and whir of grinding machinery. The way it halted and tore as Isaac latched his hands up. "Use the Dark Side to save those you love, taste it!"

"Meetra…"

He had murmured underneath his breath, his vision for a second going black. The sizzling and coldness of his lost fingers still struck him. His heart banged in his ears. He was failing…he was going to die; they were all going to die.

The realization summoned something from deep within the dark parts of his heart. A mighty blast of dark side energy formed in his right and left hand as it erupted from his palms. A powerful blast of force energy was thrown towards Ethan.

Ethan gasped in surprise as he let the Thropter go, his grip had been loosened as the thropter flew away. Isaac seized a lungful of air as he collapsed to his knees. Hearing the footsteps approach as Ethan's still ignited red blade darted near his face.

"Good, very good," He mused. Ethan's laughter and smirk along the face mask disgusted him. "You'll make a mighty fine apprentice…"

But with those final words, as the guilt of utilizing the dark side flourished through him. The ground underneath them cracked. Isaac was too weak, too tired, and too guilt-ridden. His eyes slowly began to close as he felt the exhaustion reel along his body.

Just the soothing embrace of the free wind circulating along his body as he crumpled like a doll. His body, flying along like the birds as the great son of two jedi masters…fell. A thick cloud of dust consumed Isaac as a withering darkness consumed him.

Ethan stood there for a minute. Raising his eyes to catch the thropter that beamed across the sky. A part of him juggled with the idea of going after them, but he quickly dissuaded this idea. It would be a fool's errand, and they had their ways to lure out the last Wilum.

His eyes went back to the hole that had opened. The old temple was once again destroyed, but unlike before…the Jedi had still lived with minimal loses. Once again, they would hide, train, and grow to battle against the Sith. But there was still a chance for Sith domination.

Ethan turned away from the temple, and from the Jedi. There was no going back now, and he knew deep down that the Grandmaster would come for him. That man had killed for far less in the name of revenge.

The White Lotus, the politicians, and a couple of monarchs have turned from the Jedi…but unknown to the Jedi, they were not in the Sith Leagues. They would maneuver within the shadows, striking and harming. They would have their own members within those political seats as they would go back to the time of the Old Sith. To win this war against the Jedi would not just be of the force and of battle, but of the power of politics and through the eyes of the people.

While Ethan walked away from the crevasse. A thropter made its way towards Zaofu, it's machinery croaked and whined but Haru had hope in the force. As tears bore down his face, as his granddaughters silent, sat on their seats…the stilled breathing of a stabilized Meetra, uttering a single name.

"Joseph…"

She would mutter through her half-dazed breathing, her eyes slightly fluttering at times, but the drugs kept her asleep and helped tolerate with the pain. But Meetra would heal, she was a strong girl. But Haru wondered what would happen when he told her of Isaac?

She had broken down when her mother had died, falling to her knees as she clutched onto her younger brother. Ben had tried to stay strong for both, but that night when they had fallen asleep…he saw the rising fall of his sobs. The way he clutched his wife's lightsaber to his chest as Haru could feel the torment and grief throughout the force.

What would he tell Ben? That he had not only failed him as both a Jedi Master, a man, and his brother…he had allowed his only son to die. He had gripped the controls and fought against the wind, but his son fought against Ethan. Haru knew deep down that if Isaac did not leave to fight Ethan. Then, none of them would've escaped.

But he had seen his body crumple into the air like a ragdoll…falling through possibly flights and levels of the temple as he fell to the Earth. Would they be able to find his body later…was there even a body to recover?

'No, I must not think such things right now. There is no death, only the force. Isaac gave his life and is at peace right now. He is with his mother and one with the force. He may be dead, and the physical shell may be gone, but the force…the essence remains.'

He repeated the teachings he had learned decades ago. But they felt hollow right now, and he still stuttered and sobbed along the controls.

What of Thomas?

Thomas was stationed at another temple. He was the first, the first Sith to turn away from the Dark Side and join Ben. He worked as an undercover agent within the Sith, and with his help he was able to reform the Sith Acolytes…into Jedi. While many had went off after the war to find their truth and who they were. But, after Ben had finished his training. All of them rejoined him as Ben's first students within his first official Jedi Order.

What a horrible irony within the universe. Such cruelty. The first of the Sith to turn away from darkness, and the son of a great Jedi. For him to be one of the first to turn to the darkness. What a cruel world this truly is.


Tenzin observed the sunset along the ocean, a beautiful blend of reds, pinks, and warm orange that dipped over the horizon. It was beautiful, sometimes Tenzin would wonder why such a beautiful world…would allow such great cruelties to occur.

He slowly rose his gaze to the side. Even here, you could see the simmering greyish smoke of the Jedi Temple rise. Chocking, encompassing, and filling the streets with its smog. Before, it was a symbol of the light. A place that would be built to symbolize the birth of the new, Republic City had followed such makings.

But he was taken aback to the great darkness that had occupied those halls. The Sith, they have returned and have somehow mingled their ways into the Republic City or possibly…the worlds political sphere.

The Jedi had escaped another purge. Taking Thropters and zipping to hidden enclaves and academies to train against this new enemy. Yet, while the losses were minimal…they were just as severe to those involved.

Tenzin took a deep breath. Making his way up the mountain as his robes fluttered within the breeze. Along the Island, two ocean blue monuments overlooked Republic City. The first was his father, his staff outstretched and sight forward along the city. The second, Benjamin. His lightsaber in both hands in an outstretched stance. His eyes narrowed as just as Aang looked further ahead. Republic cities defenders, there tales resounded and told throughout the world as legends and heroes.

But heroes die…his father had died over a decade ago. While Ben was just a man, and the wearing of age was showing along his features. That same old man sat along the stone of Aang's statue. Staring ahead at the plume of smoke with his head in his hands.

"Tenzin…"

Pema had wrapped his body in bandages. His whole right side of his body was riddled with burns, luckily none were able to damage his nerves or his eye. But he would be forced to live with them…but Tenzin knew that the pain from his body was not what caused him to stutter or grieve. No, it was something else…

He gasped as Tenzin's arms wrapped around him. "It's alright, Uncle Ben. Please take your time."

His arms gripped into the fabric. His body, in muffled sobs as he felt the air choke around him like smoke. "He's dead…Tenzin, Isaac is dead," His grip tighter. "They killed my son…"

His breath grew heavier. The force, a powerful force welled up around him as he felt the whirling tide of emotions and storm growing around him. He had failed…as a man, a master, and a father. The one promise he had made to Ty Lee, he had dashed it to the ground with this failure.

"Oh god, Ty Lee," He muttered underneath his breath. "Please, forgive me. I failed you…oh god…I failed you."

He crumpled to the floor as he gripped along his nephew. Tenzin's grip only going tighter as he held his father's friend…his brother. The man who he built a city besides, the same man who had lost nearly everything he cared about in a single day.

He collapsed to the floor and began to sob, too weary to be angry, too certain of his connection to the force to doubt the truth. A darkness had overtaken their force bond, and that meant that he was gone. He had failed his only son…

He found himself remembering Ty Lee in her hospital bed. Her face streaked with sweat as the little figure of there son was held along her chest. The way the bright blue sky shone along them all as the little fingers were held in his scarred large palm. He could hear his sons laughing, he could see his sons' smirk. And he remembered his final words to his son…and oh how he hated himself. How he wished for a better goodbye, and as a father, he had failed.

"Isaac is gone."

"I'm so sorry, Ben," Tenzin spoke. Taking a knee to be on his level. "I am so sorry." He repeated.

His hands combed through his locks of hair. Wild and contorted as he broke down in his anguish. "Oh god, the things I said to him…oh god what have I done!" He cried more ferociously than ever, and his sobbing broke through his voice as he stuttered. "I drove it…I…I…I told him what it meant to be a Jedi…I…should've listened to Ty Lee," His eyes squinted, broke into wide grins so wide that Tenzin could see the white in them. His grip grew into a death grip as wild feral eyes bore into his own. "Why did I let my children become Jedi…I…I…I…killed my son!"

"No," Tenzin cut him off. "Isaac died doing what had to be done. We take what is given, that is what my father spoke of all that time ago. You said that you can feel Meetra, Haru, and the rest. That means that his sacrifice was not in vain. He did not do this because he wanted to prove that he was a Jedi, but because he wanted to protect his sister."

"How would you know!" He snapped. The anger had returned, wraith following in his poison filled words. "Your sons, your daughters, your wife…there alive. You think you can lecture me on what I am going through. He wasn't your son!"

"No, he wasn't." He spoke. Ben hesitating, seeing the pain and hurt register over Tenzin's features, but the old airbending master merely shook his head. "But I know from my meetings with Isaac and my time with Korra, how much he had impacted her. She always told stories about him, she bragged about him…she told people how she met an apprentice, with the true heart of a Jedi Knight."

The gentleness, and reminder of Korra slowly eased the anger from Ben. The grief, the sadness, and the hurt would remain…and he would be sure that it would never be gone. But for a second, he was able to calm himself.

He knew that Tenzin was trying to calm him down, but despair had only followed. He knew, that giving into his anger and lust for revenge would do him no good. He remembered back then when he was sixteen still…the promises he made, the words Ty Lee and his friends spoke to him, and his goal to become not only a better Jedi but a better man. He could not act within anger or rage, because those were roads, he knew damn well how wrong they were. There was no good in such emotions, only the dark side would remain.

He had been an animal. Killing, learning dark side techniques from long dead Sith Lords, and even became a Sith apprentice…something that would lead again to his fall. He would allow sadness to eat him up inside, he could bear it. But he would be damned to give into his fear and anger once again.

He had nearly lost himself when Ty Lee had died. He took his son and began his training, but the responsibilities as grandmaster forced him to balance the two. And he thought that the temple would safe enough for his son to safely learn and study.

He took a deep breath. "My son is dead."

He rose as he fumbled within the white bandages. Taking a deep breath as he felt the pain along scar and burn tissue, but they could not compare to the pain he felt. The salt filled ocean winds moved through his clumps of hair as he watched the city he built, the temple he built, how he agonized to build such things…but like sandcastles, they always broke down underneath the annuals of time.

"Goodbye, Isaac…"

And along that island. A legend would be uttered, a legend that would be told throughout the decades and within this world. There would be a legend of the time in which Grandmaster Benjamin Wilum, thought that his son had died. There was a streak along the sky of a meteor…and the ever-growing darkness, that was the source of a great loss.

But this was not the end of legend. As Tenzin and Ben boarded their bison to reach the other Hidden Enclaves and temples. Many things were changing, because this was not their story. For this was the story of Avatar Korra and Isaac Wilum.

The Prodigal Son…of The New Jedi Order