Taking breath in a cold night
Prologue
Night has fallen over the Palace in Coruscant. It was late, morning would soon come, and the first sun would set a first shine of morning light over the highest tops of the building. Another day would then begin.
He couldn't sleep. Night by night he was hunted by nightmares, full of memories, full of future. When sleeping for a while he awakened with sweated clothing, always a bit confused.
Tonight he didn't even try to find some sleep, to find some rest. He just waited for the nest morning to come, to get up again. He lay on his bed, open eyed, and watched the walls. The ceiling.
It was so damn quiet. Just his own breathing sounded in his bedroom. He liked to listen to it, night by night. He was living, but dying day by day a little bit more. The tribute he had to pay to the Dark Side was very high, but worth it to his opinion. But whenever looking into a mirror, by his own will or by accident, he just wanted to break the mirror into hundreds of pieces.
The tribute,…
Loneliness.
Frigidity.
Isolation.
His life wasn't glorious as was told in the holonews or told by his biographers. Some events in his life weren't worth written or to be told to anybody. His past was mysterious, there weren't hardly any documents showing his origin, his family or relatives, and testifying his career before becoming a representative of the planet Naboo at the age of 32. His future would be the chaotic nexus of the Dark Side.
He didn't like this concept…
Another deep breath.
Another minute has passed by.
