Disclaimer: All rights belong to Disney, George Lucas, and all the men and women that created the Star Wars movies, books, and comics. I take no credit, and I do not mean to break any copyright rules. This is simply a work of fiction made for enjoyment. No money is being made. The cover art image belongs to peanutbutterroastedchestnuts. tumblr .com (remove the spaces)
Rating: T for violence, disturbing imagery, and dark themes
Chapter 18
Mid Rim Region, Quelii Sector, Dathomir System, 39 BBY
"Who do you hate the most?" Talzin asks. We're standing outside under a tree, and she has a variety of objects laid out on the ground. My eyes are closed and I'm thinking hard.
The memory hasn't left my mind since I'd recovered it. The pain had returned, too, bright and sharp but also deep and aching. The years between the act and now haven't done anything to help.
My master is the one who pops up in my mind first. It makes sense. He's the one who put me in the corner. He's the one who had forced me to kill Damari. He turned me into the monster I had become, and he's responsible for many of my grievances.
It just doesn't feel right, though. To hate someone you have to love them first, and I had never been fond of him. I'd always felt indifferent - sure, he was giving me everything I wanted, but he was also making my life a living hell at the same time.
My father's image comes up next, and he too makes sense. When I was young I had loved him (until I learned how terrible of a person he actually was) and if he hadn't cheated on my mother, making me fear that one day I, like him, would be disloyal to someone I had promised something to because of my feelings, then I would have never killed Damari. And if my father had never cheated my mother wouldn't have come to Coruscant in the first place and I would have still been on Anthan Prime instead of falling in love with Damari.
He, too, doesn't feel right, though. The trip back to Anthan Prime with Obi-Wan had helped me clear up my past enmity. I have made peace with him.
Who else is there? Damari? In that moment years ago I had hated him for being so wonderful and for making me fall in love with him even though it had been forbidden. I had hated him for loving me so much that he had been okay with dying at my hand if it meant I wouldn't be in trouble by my master. My rage had come from him being so perfect and me being so messed up.
But I had loved him, and the "hatred" had been more anger. And even then I had only thought it was directed at him.
Deep down I know that all my hate and rage and frustration is because of me and directed towards myself. Even now I hate myself for constantly putting myself in situations where I hurt innocents because of my choices and actions. Looking back, my life is just one collection of bad choices after another.
"It's me," I whisper, the realization hitting me hard. "I'm the one to blame. I'm the one I hate the most."
Talzin nods slowly. "Take that rage and harness it. Use it to take on your master, and show him that you're strong enough to rise above what you've been through. Show him that he made a monster, and that you're going to turn his creation right back on him. Betray him like he betrays others."
Oh, there's plenty of rage to hit him with. An endless abyss, if my dark soul is to be believed. I've been storing all it up for years, pressing it down on itself for so long that it's unbelievable how dark I am inside.
"Be passionate when you connect to the Force. Convince it to do your will because what you want is right. It's a living, moving thing. Persuade it to join your side, and you will be more powerful than your master."
Taking in a deep breath, I follow Talzin's advice by connecting to the force and letting the memories and emotions flow through me. I beg it to do my will, to follow my commands, and then I let go. My hands raise up and my eyes open as I start manipulating the objects Talzin had placed out. First I levitate one, then two, and then all of them at once. I make half of them spin and the other half fly in circles, and then I switch things up. Everything happens instantaneously, and never before have I felt stronger. Inwardly I keep channeling my thoughts and feelings, and the Force keeps responding.
It's amazing work, but it is also exhausting. Using my emotions and keeping a constant stream to the force - it wears me down after only a short time. I finally drop the objects and plop on the ground, massaging my temples lightly.
"You'll have to make the fight quick if you want to defeat him," Talzin advises. "He can channel the Force all day at a steady level, but you can do it powerfully in a short time. Make the encounter quick and use your lightsaber if you have to. Your combat skills are greater than his. He only keeps his lightsaber around for protection, and the moment his new apprentice learns how to use one he'll ditch his. He prefers having a guard."
"He's going to want the fight to be on Moraband," I say, dropping my hands to the ground and looking up at her. "It's fitting and it's dramatic. Also that way no one will come and interfere. Everyone is terrified of that planet except for the two of us."
"Seems like you know exactly how this is going to play out," she replies dryly. At my defeated look she steps closer. "Do you?"
A long sigh escapes me. "I have a feeling he will beat me. All my visions of the future have seemed to point out that he's still very much alive. Maybe my visions aren't of the future set in stone, though."
Neither of us believe my lame excuse. Deep down we both know it's a suicide mission. I don't have a chance against him. All this training is just an excuse for me to ignore the inevitable. My master will will in the end, and I'll die alone on that dusty old planet. Eventually I'll rot away and just be another one of those ancient skeletons that some future Sith Lord steps over on their way to the Valley of Kings. Maybe a brave scavenger will search my corpse for something to sell at a black market.
"Are you scared of death?" she questions softly. My head nods on its own accord. There's no point in hiding the truth anymore.
"I'm scared I have wasted my life, and once I die I'll never be able to make up for it. But as long as I'm a Sith, and as long as the dark side has its grip on me, I'll never be able to make up for it, either. Dying an honorable death is the way for me to somewhat atone." My eyes drop to the ground.
Talzin's voice isn't filled with judgement or reproach, though. She speaks with wisdom. "The brighter and hotter a fire, the faster it burns out," she says. "The best people always die early. There is no shame in it."
"I just don't want to be a waste," I confess, my frustration coming out. "I want to make the most out of life, but I'm stuck being a Sith. There are so many things I can't do."
"Then you're making the right choice. Look," she begins, sitting down next to me. "I've made a lot of mistakes in my life, some of them recently. And you know I'm going to make many, many more. But I know it's the right choice for me, so I'm going to go ahead with it. Life isn't about being perfect. You make mistakes, and you have to live with the consequences. But if you're given the choice to make things right, then you have to go and make things right, because you might not get another chance. If this is the way you're life is supposed to go, then the only way you'd be wasting it is if you hid from everyone to avoid death. Sure, you'd live longer, but it would be a wasted life. So go on, make the right call."
She's right. Her confirmation of my earlier thoughts help bring a sense of closure and assurance to my unrest. I need to do this. This is my destiny. Whether I live or whether I die, this is what I'm meant to do. Even if it all leads to my death - and it appears it is - I will be brave and do this. I will accept responsibility for my actions, and I will be strong in the face of my fears.
It's in that moment when I realize I really have changed. Little Rina had always been afraid of being weak and she had always hid when she was frightened, but I am not her. And I'm not Minerva, either. Minerva had valued power over strength, two completely different traits, and she had never taken responsibility. So who am I? I am a stranger in a familiar body, a stranger that has achieved everything I've strained for.
This isn't how I thought things would go. Then again, life rarely happens as you think it will. A sense of solemness fills me, and the pit beneath my heart opens up, leaving an empty space. The weight of a dying man is on my shoulders, and with it comes acceptance. Submission. Numbness.
This is bittersweet, this moment. It's important, oh so vital, but also sour. Is this what a dying man thinks as his life is draining out of his body? Is this how a prisoner feels as he is being escorted to his place of execution? Is this how Xavier and Lillea felt before they took their own lives? My mother felt this before she left me for the last time?
And yet, this feeling isn't entirely foreign to me. I had felt it in that alley in the Underworld ten years ago. It's been so, so long…
A life passes before my eyes. I'm only nineteen, but all the places I've been and all the sorrows I've felt...I've lived. My life hasn't been wasted. I won't be forgotten. There is nothing to regret. This is the way of life, of being born and living and then dying. Sometimes it's early, and sometimes it's late, but most of the time it's just right.
"I'm ready," I announce, looking up into her silver eyes. "I'm ready to finally accept what comes my way instead of trying to change myself."
"Then you truly are wise."
Core Worlds Region, Coruscant Subsector, Corusca Sector, Unknown System, 44 BBY
My name is everywhere. The message spreads through the city-planet quickly. No one knows who I am or why I killed that boy, but they know my name, and a reputation has begun. I'm a murderer, and I'm ruthless. There are reward posters for me everywhere, though they are foolish and know nothing. How can they expect to catch a shadow?
There's something constantly nagging at me, but I can't seem to figure it out. I have a strong feeling it has something to do with the boy, but whenever I ask my master he shrugs it off.
"That boy tried to harm you," he tells me. "He tried to take you from me in the worst way possible. You protected yourself, and that's the message everyone in this city will get. You won't take what they dish out."
"What if they find me?" I always question. "What if they send the Jedi after me? I can't fend them all off."
"You're too good for them to catch," he answers, not a trace of doubt in his voice. "And you are more powerful than your realize. If you do not want to be caught, then they can't take you."
Worry still eats me up, and I spend more time than ever training. What had I done with my free time before all this endless combat? I can't remember. I must have been bored out of my mind.
My lightsaber has become a part of me, and I never leave it behind. The name Thanatos is branded on it, my special touch. No one else will ever touch my baby, not after all the time and effort I had put into it. He's an extension of my arm, and no one else will ever be able to fight with it like I do. At this point I believe I am the greatest warrior to exist in the galaxy. My master rarely uses his lightsaber, keeping it hidden deep in his robes for a worst-case scenario. He trusts me to defend him.
I've never been interested in girly things like dancing, but the grace I have when I swing the red blade around is smoother than even the best dancers. My spins are fluid like water, and so fast that my weapon looks like a ribbon instead of a deadly blade. What I lack in power and brute strength I make up for in skill and speed.
Sometimes when my master watches me practicing I see a strange emotion in his eyes. It almost looks like fear. What does he have to fear? Am I not talented enough? Is he worried someone will get past me?
Worse than those theories, though, is a startling one I thought of one day: What if he's afraid I will one day turn on him? That's ridiculous, though. I may not be overly fond of him but he has been the one to take me in and train me. He takes care of me and gives me the tools to achieve everything I want. There's no fathomable reason he'd be worried about me turning on him.
I owe everything to him. And unlike my father, I'm loyal. I'll follow my master to the ends of the galaxy and back if he wants me to. He gave me the life I wanted so badly those years ago.
One day he pulls me aside to tell me a story. He gives me lessons in the form of stories often. "Do you know why the rule of two was created?" he inquires.
"To keep the power-hungry Sith from ripping each other apart," I answer, proud I know it. He simply nods.
"There's a master who has power, and an apprentice who craves it. Do you crave my power?"
What's that mean? I want power, but I don't want his power. I want my own power, power to do whatever I choose to do. "I'm not sure. I know I want power, though."
"But do you want to overthrow the Jedi? Do you want to rule the galaxy at my side?" He has my arms grasped tightly in his hands, so tight it hurts. I don't flinch, though. There's desperation in his eyes.
"I guess. I mean, the Jedi do get in our way a lot. And if we ruled the galaxy no one would ever think I was weak. They wouldn't even dream of it. They'd look up to me and see power and strength and they'd wish they were me." My voice grows excited as I speak. My master nods slowly and lets go.
"That's good enough, for now at least." He seems only partly satisfied.
"What do you mean? Do you want me to wish everyone was dead?" My brow is creased and my words are slow.
"The Jedi should all die," he hisses, strangely emotional. "They don't understand our ways. They destroyed our kind on their home planet. Of course we want them all dead. But if you would rule for people to grovel at your feet then I guess you have enough passion in you. You see, Minerva, in order to reach your goals you have to strive for them. And you won't strive for them if you don't really want them. I have to know you're with me on this."
"Of course," I nod quickly. "I'm with you in everything. I made a promise to you I don't intend to break."
"Good." There's still a shadow in his eyes, though. He's worried about something. And I'm getting the feeling that something has to do with me somehow.
"You know I would never break my promise, right?" I push, wanting to prove to him how dedicated I really am. He nods, but it's too quick.
"Of course. I wouldn't have trained you if I thought you wouldn't be right. As long as you remember the pain you felt as you were abandoned and the anger that consumed you when you were betrayed by your father then you will be the most powerful Force user - besides me, of course. The apprentice never surpasses the master. Everything you know I've taught you, and therefore I know your every move before even you know it."
Is he threatening me? It's subtle, but very much there. Why? I've never given him any reason to doubt me. In fact, he's been acting very strange as of late. "Of course, Master."
He walks away, leaving me completely bewildered as to what had just happened. Things like this seem to happen more and more often, and it's starting to make me doubt him. More accurately, his sanity.
As long as I keep myself to a habit that follows my master's rules everything should be okay. If I don't give him a reason to doubt he won't. It's as simple as that. I just can't shake the uneasy feeling I've been getting…