Sith Apprentices [II]
Tracey Davis arrived first, dressed in the plain black tunic, wide belt, and trousers Darth Gladiolus provided for her three most promising apprentices. The rest she discovered to be Force-sensitive—all less promising than her three apprentices-to-be—had been made into acolytes: ready pawns to advance her goals where aurors were insufficient and a Sith Lord would be overkill. Their ability to use the dark side of the Force should prove useful one day, but none possessed the power or mindset necessary to be worthy of the title, Sith Lord. They would be Sith by a fashion, but to be a Sith Lord required more than mastering the power of the dark side. It required determination to reshape the world to suit one's desires. A willingness to sacrifice all one had been to become more.
A Sith Lord internalized the Sith Code until it became etched into their soul.
Each apprentice had received a handwritten copy of the Sith Code with the "request" that they take time to study and meditate on it. Gladiolus embedded into her accompanying letters hints that the Code was the central philosophy behind every choice she made. She desired for them to take their reading of the Sith Code seriously. To treat it like they had their studies at Hogwarts. After all, the Sith Code guided Gladiolus through her final year as Edelweiss Potter. They reshaped that girl into the Sith Lord who claimed all of magical Britain as her own.
And one day, her reach would extend to consume the world, and perhaps beyond.
"Master," Tracey said as she bowed. Her gaze drifted across the small room, glancing across the three empty cushions before returning to Darth Gladiolus. Her brows furrowed deep enough a valley cleaved between them. "I had hoped we would be alone today."
Gladiolus nearly smirked. Had Tracey thought she would be the only one? She intended from the start to have the three together for this lesson. The Sith Lord supplied her apprentices with specialized portkeys to transport them to the antechamber just beyond the door. Only she knew they were in Ziost Hangar, deep beneath Hogwarts castle. She had chosen the rooms furthest from Hermione's holding cell. They might notice the rumblings of construction. But she had a feeling the Code would consume their interest.
Then again, Hermione knew nothing of the durasteel complex being added to Lord Salazar's hidden oasis.
"This is for all three of you," the Sith Lord said. She gestured to the cushion to her left. "Sit. They will arrive soon."
Tracey crossed to the chosen spot and sat on the cushion. A few seconds passed before she shifted into a kneeling posture Gladiolus recognized from her time as an apprentice.
Neville Longbottom arrived next. He wore a black cloak over a crimson tunic, plain trousers, and dark dragonhide boots. Only the wide black belt graced his wizardly form. Gladiolus frowned thinly. There had been no explicit note with the Sith apprentice garb she supplied the three. She had assumed the presence of clothes, properly sized for each, would be message enough to wear them.
Neville paused at the threshold and frowned. His gaze bounced between the two women, taking in how they both dressed in black. Gladiolus surmised she miscalculated with him. That thought ruined her pleased mood over Tracey's arrival and reaction to not being granted preference over the others.
Before Neville could finally cross the threshold, Luna Lovegood slipped around him, as fae as the queer creatures she alleged to see. She had gotten the message, for she had dressed in the provided blacks. The girl gave the room a single quick scan before drifting to the open cushion on Gladiolus's right. She sat with her legs crossed. For some odd reason, Luna rested her feet atop her thighs instead of beneath them.
Gladiolus stared at Neville. He stared back. Several seconds passed with their gazes locked before he sighed and sat before her more sensibly than the woman to each side.
"Apprentices. I do not plan for us four to gather so often. The way of the Sith rarely lends well to large cabals. I also have other tasks that demand my time beyond instructing you three, even at the beginning of your nation—and thus our world—approaches a crossroads that will decide the future. Will this world remain free of external coercion? Or will everything crumble away like tears in the rain?"
Tracey sat up straighter, almost pathetically willing to accept and embrace all Darth Gladiolus said. She appreciated the loyalty, though part of her wondered if Davis would ever gather the strength of will to challenge her for the title of Dark Lord of the Sith. Perhaps that willingness would come in time. Davis had yet to accept all the dark side of the Force offered.
Neville frowned slightly. Suspicion reeked from him in waves. Perhaps he had only accepted her offer of apprenticeship to keep a closer eye on her. Given that Longbottom spent time outside of his work—whatever that was supposed to be—with many who either had ties to the new Wizengamot or sat on that body, she had cause to suspect his purpose in agreeing was to spy on her. He might not be a loyal or faithful student yet, but time would tell.
It was a quaint plan. One that amused Gladiolus. She would permit him to continue on that path for now.
Luna Lovegood, as always, remained an enigma that was either more confusing than Gladiolus suspected or merely put up an act that made her seem more complicated than she truly was. Given that The Quibbler had done away with the deceptively subversive articles in favor of returning to the nonsense that defined them before her ascension, it appeared Luna's choice to apprentice under Darth Gladiolus convinced her father to abandon those articles that would lead to him being jailed or fined once he overstepped the limited press protections the Ministry had in place before her.
"Now, each of you was provided a copy of the Sith Code. This is the philosophy that underlines all you will learn as my apprentice. You must internalize not only the words but the intent behind each line. It was not written millennia past to sound nice. There is a purpose in every word given to you."
Gladiolus waved a hand at the sheets of flimsiplast by her side. Zeta-Aleph had provided them when she inquired about writing in the galaxy beyond Earth. The droid mind had taken her request to mean she also wished to learn the lingua franca of the galaxy, which had been somewhere in the messy list of tasks she desired to accomplish before her inevitable departure from Earth.
(Her lessons in Galactic Basic were not moving along as swiftly as she would like. Gladiolus knew this was caused by the excessive tasks she already juggled: ruling magical Britain, keeping up to date with the research and engineering occurring across the Atlantic at Area 51, instructing Sith acolytes and her new apprentices, continuing her training, and handling the odd meeting with muggle officials, including the Queen.)
Each of her apprentices stared at the flimsi set before them with furrowed brows. Even Tracey, who feared questioning her master, glanced between the flimsi and Darth Gladiolus with uncertainty.
Gladiolus withdrew a trio of styli from her robe and set one beside each sheet of flimsi. "You will write the Sith Code from memory. You cannot ask for assistance from myself or the others." She smirked with just a hint of flashing white teeth. "That does not mean you cannot use other means to gather information, though I should not catch you."
All three considered her command with uncertainty. None appeared ready to actively question her command. Gladiolus doubted any would attempt to draw on the power of the Force for help. Only Luna had any experience with the Force, by Gladiolus's reckoning. And she suspected that Luna's experience with the Force had been filtered through the prism of the strange fae creatures she saw that emulated emotion and mental powers.
"Go on," Gladiolus said for they still hesitated after a minute. "Begin writing the Code—and hand me your copy once you finish. I will judge by your recollections."
Luna began writing before Gladiolus finished her second set of instructions. Tracey turned to her sheet the very second Gladiolus finished speaking. Neville only began after a few seconds to recall those parts of the Code he managed to memorize.
She watched as they wrote. The three took care to protect their flimsi sheets from wandering eyes, even as they futilely attempted to peek at what the others wrote. Neville tried to use his position between Tracey and Luna, along with his larger size, to read their flimsies. Gladiolus stared at him until he realized she had noticed his bold attempts.
He ended his attempts to spy after that. Neither made attempts after that. Luna knew how attuned Gladiolus's senses were, while Tracey was too loyal and faithful to violate explicit commands.
Unsurprisingly, the former Slytherin finished first. She handed over her flimsi with a proud and slightly smug smile. Gladiolus had expected results of that nature with Tracey Davis. Of the three chosen to be an apprentice, Davis was the most loyal and faithful to 'Lord Gladiolus'. The other two had cause to doubt or deny her, and that would be reflected in the quality of their work—or so Gladiolus presumed. She had not troubled to sense all within their hearts.
Naturally, Tracey's recollection was perfect.
Astonishingly, Neville finished his work next. Gladiolus accepted his draft without comment and scanned it over quickly. While the particular words were not all completely correct, he showed enough understanding of the underlying philosophy behind the Sith Lords to almost impress her.
He might have merely memorized the words. I will need to learn how deep their meaning sunk in.
Luna finished last, handing over what she completed without comment or ceremony. For that peculiar girl, her silence caught Gladiolus's attention. The Sith Lord had half expected a strange or vaguely elusive comment from her upon completion.
At least her handwriting is legible enough to understand that she possesses only the faintest grasp on the Sith Code. It's though she only—
"Lovegood," Gladiolus began softly, her sulfuric eyes rising from the flimsi in her hand. Luna stiffened, though her blue eyes failed to reflect any hint of fear. "Did you only read the Code once?"
"I only needed to read it once," Luna said, unapologetic. "Plus, Daddy was curious about the ideas that drove you to murder a mentor figure as valuable and influential as Dumbledore. He burned the copy afterward."
Gladiolus loudly scoffed. "That man was no mentor. Perhaps he desired that from me, but he never acted in that fashion." She stopped and bit her tongue before she could accuse Dumbledore of further crimes. The man was dead. He deserved to be forgotten.
"Enough of that man," said Gladiolus before any of her apprentices could react to her words. Frustration trickled out of Neville, while Tracey's brows furrowed slightly. Miraculously, Luna maintained a peaceful expression. That most of all troubled the Sith Lord. She breathed out and then told them: "You should all know these words by heart—and you will repeat them after I:
"Peace is a lie, there is only passion."
The three repeated her words: "Peace is a lie, there is only passion."
"Though passion, I gain strength," continued Gladiolus. She waited for her apprentices to repeat her words before continuing. "Through strength, I gain power. Through power, I gain victory. Through victory, my chains are broken.
"The Force shall free me."
As her apprentices finished repeating the final line, Gladiolus reached out with the Force and sensed their moods. Tracey held an edge of frustration beneath her joy to be directly instructed by Gladiolus. Clearly, she desired one-on-one instruction instead of having the other two present. Neville bounced between uncertainty he was making the right decision as her apprentice and questioning whether the ideals Gladiolus would teach him were truly worth following. He would be forced to pick—and best he pick true. Luna, unlike the others, had managed to block Gladiolus from sensing her feelings.
Gladiolus glanced between her errant students. "Lovegood. Longbottom. What is your understanding of the first line?"
Neville cupped his chin as he pondered her question. Luna gave no outwardly sign she thought it over. Gladiolus barely sensed the girl's mind working on the problem before her. She was disturbed that Lovegood could readily keep her out and appeared capable of maintaining whatever protection she had thanks to the Force.
Could it be that her ability to see 'fae' has allowed her to commune better with the Force than I? Gladiolus nearly snorted at the thought. I should remain patient. Lovegood may reveal something that I had not considered until now. And once she does…
"I have an answer," said Neville. "Though I think I may not understand 'peace' the way I should, Lord Gladiolus."
"Call her master," Tracey hissed with a sneer.
Neville shot her an unimpressed look, as though Tracey's loyalty would hinder her in the future. Gladiolus did not fault him for his opinion, for the greatest of her apprentices would one day strike her down. At that time, she would no longer be worthy of her title as the Dark Lord of the Sith. She would not abandon that title until that inevitable day. Whether or not her chosen apprentices could arise to the occasion and destroy her was unknown.
Perhaps I require an apprentice from another world.
"Apologies, master," Neville uttered as though the words threatened to burn a hole through his tongue. "As I was saying, I do not think my understanding of 'peace' and yours match."
"Then tell me your understanding. My role here is to teach and guide. I cannot do that without knowing the false beliefs you hold on to."
He frowned before carefully offering, "Peace is the absence of war. to say 'peace is a lie' is to suggest we're always at war."
"Which is true!" Tracey interjected. "Think back to our years at Hogwarts. Think about the strange events that happened year after year, disrupting our education! It might not have been an active war, but everyone knew we were sleepwalking into one. Merlin's beard, even Draco's foolish rivalry with our master could be considered a war—even if it was purely interpersonal."
Neville glowered at Tracey. But instead of responding to her, he turned back to Gladiolus and said, "Given what Davis said in response to my thoughts, I would presume that for a Sith, 'peace' is personal, not societal."
"You have the idea right. But your phrasing remains incorrect. Peace refers to a state lacking in emotion. Where the Jedi—the enemy of the Sith—believe that one should abandon emotions in favor of an 'internal peace'. They seek strength through passivity. The Sith believe passions are the root of their strength, and thus rely on them for that power."
"But wouldn't that open you up to be controlled by those passions?" inquired Neville. "If you draw strength from your passions, then the greater you feel them—"
"The stronger you will be." Gladiolus offered Neville a knowing smile. "Your concern is not without reason, Longbottom. Sith of distant past have succumbed to their passions. Though if I were to be particular, their passions drove them to obsession with strength and power. Some reached the point where they could no longer distinguish between freedom and slavery. They became slaves to their whims and vices, little more than beasts given humanoid form.
"But because some succumb does not mean you should fear your passions. To fear them is to admit they hold sway over you. A Sith Lord controls their passions. They are a source of power, not a chain or a leash guiding you like a dog. Those who called themselves Sith but became dominated by their passions are like those who were once human but are degraded to the point they are indistinguishable from animals living in the wilderness."
Neville nodded. His expression, however, revealed her words failed to mollify his fear. It weakened, yet remained. He surprised her by revealing how he had grown since their paths diverged two years ago in the Great Hall of Hogwarts.
"Now that we have covered the truth of passion, I would like you, Lovegood, to explain how passion leads a Sith to victory."
Luna blinked, those wide blue eyes momentarily reminding Gladiolus of a startled doe. "Well, the Code claims passion leads to victory. The path between them sounds logical, but I'm not so convinced. Master."
Gladiolus smirked at the tacked-on addition of 'master', despite the spike of frustration hearing her code—the Sith Code—be questioned so. "Then explain how and why you are not convinced, Lovegood. Either of your fellow apprentices should be able to assist you through whatever gaps in logic you have apparently stumbled upon."
"I will ignore the issue of passion, since you and Neville already spoke of it." Gladiolus raised an eyebrow. She had almost expected the odd girl to dig into the question of peace and passion. It would suit the flighty girl she had encountered two years ago as a Sith apprentice. "This portion of the Code begins with the claim that passion leads to strength. That strength, in turn, is said to become power. But cannot one use peace as a source of strength? Instead of forcing their will on the world, they can align with the ebbs and flows of nature. That is how enlightened sages and monks of other societies achieve feats that many would declare 'supernatural', despite being neither of magic nor related to the Force."
"That is a Jedi's thinking, Lovegood. Not a Sith's."
"Oh? Apologies then. I had not known enough of their philosophy to avoid it."
"Then how did you reach your ideas about peace, despite hearing contrary opinions?"
Luna shrugged. "It only seemed… natural. Self-evident."
Gladiolus hummed, hating how her suspicion Lovegood would be drawn to the Jedi appeared to be a self-fulfilling prophecy. "So is that the extent of your doubts? Your inclination toward Jedi philosophy?"
Luna shook her head. "I will seek to keep my thinking within the confines of the Sith Code, 'master'. You say one can have power, but how does that correlate to victory? There have been many occasions throughout history where one with less power has defeated the one possessing more power."
"Such as?"
"You and Voldemort, when you were a child. Or if you wish to go further back, the duel between Dumbledore and Grindelwald."
"Interesting selections. For your first example, you must understand that my mother's desire to save me—her passion to ensure life for her child—created the conditions necessary for my survival that night." Gladiolus leaned forward. "As for your second, how can you be so certain that Dumbledore lacked power when compared to Grindelwald?"
"Because Grindelwald possessed the Deathstick."
Tracey burst out laughing while Neville frowned disbelievingly. Gladiolus straightened, a hand rising to rest against her chin. Never had she heard of a 'Deathstick'. She had a strong feeling Luna would happily explain what the 'Deathstick' was and why it should have ensured Grindelwald's victory. She raised an eyebrow at the girl, prompting her to explain.
"The Deathstick is one of the Deathly Hallows. Legend has it that the one who wields the Deathstick can never be defeated in a duel. The wand has almost always changed hands through underhanded means. Only on a rare few occasions has it exchanged possession between two wizards or two witches dueling. And always at monumental moments."
"Sounds like a fairy tale," said Tracey, dismissive.
"The fae are real. So why would fairy tales not be real?"
Tracey's mouth opened and then closed with pursed lips. She turned to Gladiolus as though expecting her master to aid her in arguing with Luna about strange things.
"I have long held reason to suspect that the fae Luna speaks of relates to the Force. Her ability to see them alerted me to her Force-sensitivity long ago." Gladiolus then shrugged. "Perhaps they're a way to understand the metaphysical. Lovegood has always struck me as so sensitive to their currents that she visually witnesses manifestations of the Force."
"And that's why you want Luna as your apprentice," Neville accused. "You want her power for yourself."
"In a way, yes. But know that I cannot wield her power myself. All I can do is train and shape that power as it exists within Luna Lovegood." She turned to the blonde girl, staring with disturbed blue eyes. "I understand your qualms about my ways. But your potential has always been too great to ignore. You only required a master to mold your potential into power you can wield."
Luna nodded stiffly. Her face failed to mask how uneasy Gladiolus's declaration made her. Lovegood should have understood from the moment Gladiolus visited her home that she would belong to the Sith Lord. Perhaps she had foolishly believed the path of the Jedi would remain open to her, even after she decided to become a Sith apprentice. Luna needed to wake up to the reality she would become a Sith Lord or she would die.
In the end, she will thank me for all I do for her. Gladiolus nearly smirked at the thought. Luna Lovegood would forever hate her. That hatred would make her a powerful Sith Lord. Perhaps even a worthy successor.
"Back to what you have said about power and victory, Lovegood," Gladiolus said, reclaiming control over the conversation. Disgust swelled within her thinking at how easily Luna stumbled into and sprouted the beliefs of the Jedi. She had studied their Code and found it deeply offensive, akin to Luna's thoughts on the Sith Code. "I understand where your doubt emerges from. But your doubt is faulty. It arises from a failure to understand that over time, the stronger power always wins. Consider recent history within our nation. My power proved too great for Dumbledore and Voldemort. It was too great for the Janus Rebellion. They all fell by my hand as a result."
Luna frowned. "How can you be certain it was your power that led to victory?"
"Because if they had strength to resist, their fates would have been different."
"Yet are you more powerful than any of your enemies at their peak?" asked Luna, sounding chillingly like a common Ravenclaw. "Or is it that they did not understand your power in the Force, and thus were helpless before it?"
Gladiolus scoffed. The truth was self-evidence as far as she was concerned. "My power is the greater one. The Force is superior to magic, and the dark side is the truest gateway to power."
Neville's lips twitched disapprovingly. Once more, he reeked of skepticism. Even compared to Lovegood, he would be the most difficult to sway. Gladiolus fought the temptation to dismiss him as an apprentice. He knew more about her power than she approved of in a subject. Yes, she allowed some of the truth about her powers to spread among the public. But most remained ignorant as to how her powers worked. She could not fathom why they would need to know the full truth. They were meant to be ruled. She was meant to rule them.
"I still think you kept them in the dark until you could kill them," Neville muttered. "Though"—and he sounded pained—"I guess it's a smart move. Cowardly, but smart."
Ah. He sees the logic behind my past choices. A shame he does not approve. Hope persists that he will be swayed to embrace the Sith ways. If not, then…
"And what of the final two lines?" she asked in lieu of arguing with her more difficult apprentices. Gladiolus pointedly glanced between Neville and Luna, trying to ignore the frustration she—and Tracey—felt. "You've judged the other lines. You even question the logic of the Sith. Certainly, you have thoughts on those two."
They exchanged an uncertain glance. Tracey glowered at them. She embraced the Sith Code, seeking to understand all it meant to be a Sith in each line. Gladiolus appreciated that one of her apprentices desired to be like her. But their meeting was meant more for the other two than it was for Tracey. Learning could be achieved through independent study. But for some, the barrier to learning resided in their misconceptions. False beliefs lead to wrong choices. Gladiolus knew the heart of that particular truth. It explained why she had easily stumbled from one disaster after the next, only ending with her discovery of the Sith. With their guidance, she seized control of her life.
"It explains why you embraced this path," Neville admitted. "You wanted freedom to control your destiny. The Sith Code granted you the capacity to break away from everything binding your choices. I do not approve of some choices you have made. Of some actions you've taken. I hate that I can look at you and only see the one who murdered the Edelweiss Potter I knew and befriended. But I understand why yo—why she became Darth Gladiolus. It's as the last line declares: 'The Force shall free me'.
"You wanted that freedom, no matter the price. Even if it meant you becoming a monster, unrecognizable to those who loved you."
Gladiolus found herself caught between pride Neville knew her so well and anger he dared suggest her choices turned her into a monster. Yes, she made hard choices. Difficult ones. But they had to be made. Someone needed to rule magical Britain. Why else would they have bounced between poor rulership and tyrants waiting in the wings?
I have brought peace and security to this nation, she reminded herself. I cannot falter. Not even when my chosen apprentices express doubt about the path I guide them to.
"Interesting perspective," Gladiolus told Neville. She turned to Luna. "And you, Lovegood?"
"…nothing I could say surpass Neville's words. We are in agreement."
Gladiolus nodded as she wondered what it meant for Luna to align her opinion with the one Neville expressed. If that meant they would both come about as Sith at the same time, then she would leave the issue alone. But if it led them into the heresy of the Jedi—or worse, rejection of her alone—then she would need to destroy them in a single devastating blow.
If they fear being dominated by the dark side instead of dominating the dark side as they have suggested, then I must reveal how simple it is to control that power. Weakness and fear are why the Sith of old succumbed to those temptations. And they are not so weak. I would not have chosen them if they were.
She gazed upon her apprentices, wondering how to move them forward. This day had not gone completely as planned, but she knew all too well it could have been worse. Neville and Luna had yet to denounce her, even if their hearts and minds needed to be twisted more slowly than Tracey's.
An idea struck her. It was bold, almost daring compared to her handling of them so far. It could as easily backfire as succeed in transforming these three into the Sith Lords beneath their skin.
"I have a gift for each of you," she said with a slow, almost seductive tone. "Prizes from the hoard of knowledge that allowed me to achieve my potential. Entrusting these to you is a sign of my favor—and a reminder that I cannot be betrayed easily."
Tracey Davis embraced her anger as she gazed upon the holocron of Lady Bastila Shan. She had been honored by her master's decision to entrust her with this particular holocron. "Lady Bastila taught me the basics of being a Sith," Lord Gladiolus had declared with a fond smile unsuited to the Dark Lord of the Sith. Tracey had beholden the holocron with something nearing awe. "I entrust her to you, the most favored of my three apprentices. You may not have the potential for power that Lovegood possesses, nor do you have the strength strong and resilience of Longbottom. But before them, you have my trust and faith. You have embraced being Sith, which is the first and greatest of my commands to you three.
"Do not fail my trust. Else, you will be done away with like any nameless traitor."
That had been enough to propel Tracey into communion with the holocron at the first chance available. That, admittedly, had been about three weeks ago and within an hour of her dismissal. She would prove her master's faith justified. Lady Bastila had set her master down her path. That made her the only choice to guide Tracey Davis down the path of Sith Lord.
She watched the holocron's five corners twist. She had yet to become accustomed to the sight, for it was a marvel to behold. Tracey shivered as the aristocratic features of Bastila Shan appeared before her, colored red due to the holocron's crystalline construction.
"Apprentice," Lady Bastila drawled. "What do you wish to learn today?"
"I… This is a bold request, Lady Bastila. I desire to learn battle meditation. You explained that power to me when we first met. Already it haunts my dreams. Whenever I think of it, I get this feeling—"
"You are not ready for battle meditation," Lady Bastila sternly declared. "While you have grown strong in the dark side, you do not possess the strength of will to control and dominate others as required for battle meditation."
Tracey resisted the urge to openly grimace at the easy dismissal. She chaffed against the truth she was the weakest of Darth Gladiolus's three apprentices in the Force. Admittedly, she knew little of their progress. It had only been a few days, after all. Luna had taken her holocron away almost immediately after being gifted it, while Neville had lingered just long enough to speak with their master about meeting at Longbottom Manor instead of the fabled Ziost Hangar.
Lady Bastila continued speaking. "You are ready to learn lightsaber combat from me." Her lips perked into a sly smile. "Have you gathered the materials necessary for the weapon I described?"
Tracey nodded. When Lady Bastila had mentioned wielding a double-bladed lightsaber while alive, she instantly decided she needed a lightsaber of its type. It was offensive and defensive at once. mastery of that weapon could even prepare her to learn and master battle meditation. Lady Bastila had learned both before she had embraced the dark side. At least Tracey would never need to unlearn being a Jedi.
Not so unlike Lovegood.
"Show them to me. I will then begin your instruction."
Tracey did as commanded. Her weapon had been prepared days ago when she last came to Ziost Hangar. It matched her grip almost perfectly. Her master had offered rooms within the Ministry, including where the aurors trained. Tracey denied them, for she wished to train where her master had learned the ways and secrets of the Sith.
When she stepped before the holocron with weapon in hand, Lady Bastila nodded approvingly. "You have exceeded my expectations. Lord Gladiolus assisted, yes?"
"She provided the elements necessary for its construction. I completed the task of constructing it without aid." Tracey smiled slyly. "My master was surprised by my interest in the double-bladed lightsaber. She has permitted me to move forward with this training, for she knows of your mastery over it and its forms. She also trusts you to instruct lightsaber combat."
"She should. I taught her the basics."
Tracey nodded for she did not wish to admit that Lord Gladiolus only informed her of the full truth grudgingly. Her master had been forward about Lady Bastila beginning her training, but those words implied that the beginning had been just that—the beginning. Nothing had been said of training beyond the basics in the Sith Code and meditation through the Force.
If Lady Bastila was enough to guide my master toward her ultimate powers, then Lady Bastila shall work for me. I shall make my master proud—and in doing so, I shall be her greatest apprentice. The first to earn the 'Darth' title.
Tracey had figured out the 'Darth' title her master bore was a Sith tradition. Gladiolus had not told her so, and she had yet to inform her master she had reached that particular realization. She rarely had time to learn directly from her master. Darth Gladiolus spent every day busy with the tasks of ruling magical Britain and preparing their world for the future. She knew of the acolytes learning Sith ways, though they would never be Sith Lords. But she remained troubled by her fellow apprentices, who struck her as unbelieving in the Sith Code. Yes, Tracey struggled with the theory which guided Sith teachings at first, but she had come to understand and accept them. She saw their truth made manifest in her master. In the span of a year, she had transformed from a frightened girl into the most powerful woman on the planet. Few exceeded Lord Gladiolus in power, and only in economic or political power. When it came to raw strength, none exceeded the power of a Sith Lord—and especially the Dark Lord of the Sith.
"Where do we begin, Lady Bastila?" Tracey asked.
"With your grip and posture," the dead Sith lady said. Her projection shrunk so that her full body appeared before Tracey. She was maybe a foot tall now, but her image remained clear enough to the Sith apprentice she understood how she should stand and hold her weapon. "Once you mimic me perfectly, we will work on body-strengthening techniques. I doubt you have the same… physical background as Gladiolus possessed as an apprentice."
Tracey grimaced but followed the instructions given to her without argument. She had already made up her mind about the double-bladed lightsaber. Now it was time to follow through.
Months passed before Tracey finally mastered the full set of modified katas for her chosen Form, Soresu. Given the dual blades and greater reach of her weapon, a defensive technique had made the most sense to Tracey when the time came to choose her lightsaber form. Yes, she understood that aggression was a vital part of her training as a Sith. But she would be her master's shield against their future foes. Each Sith apprentice had begun to specialize in a fashion that aligned with their character. Tracey knew not what they learned, nor what it meant that she was defensive compared to Lovegood and Longbottom. In the rare joint trainings, neither had yet to defeat her with the lightsaber. But that might not last. Tracey could not guarantee she would remain the strongest forever. Longbottom maintained his tenacity while Lovegood was the strongest in the Force.
And so I must seize any advantage I can, she thought darkly. I'm not intrinsically powerful as our master is. But one day, I will match her strength. I will become a Sith Lord like her—and maybe one day seize the title of Dark Lord for myself.
Tracey shook her head and banished unwarranted thoughts. Her master could sense her feelings and thoughts. Any sign of betrayal would lead to Tracey's destruction. Though given the allowances granted to the other Sith apprentices, perhaps her master would not act until one of them attempted to seize the power of being the Dark Lord of the Sith.
"You have done well," Lady Bastila said once Tracey finished her pass through the katas. They too had been perfect. Mastery achieved, just as she desired. "Perhaps now you are ready to learn battle meditation." When Tracey perked up, the Sith lady raised a warning hand. "I will not allow you to pursue this path lightly, apprentice. Should you prove yourself a poor fit for this training, then it will be ended. I have not taught your master the art of battle meditation, though she would likely surprise me and reveal a capacity for it without proper training."
Tracey nodded as she fought down the burst of jealousy that flowed through her. She had worked to gain Lady Bastila's approval to learn battle meditation. She was unsurprised, yet furious at the reminder of how powerful her master was. She wanted to live up to that standard. To be as capable as Darth Gladiolus, the Dark Lord of the Sith.
"Then what must I do?" she asked. "To surpass my master," went unsaid.
"We will begin with your meditation," said Lady Bastila. "If you cannot easily achieve a meditative state, then you will be unable to maintain battle meditation through the carnage and violence of battle."
"I understand." Tracey deactivated her lightsaber and kneeled before Lady Bastila. The holocron's projection returned to the familiar sight of head and shoulders. "I am ready to receive your knowledge and wisdom."
Lady Bastila nodded and said, "Then close your eyes and listen to my commands. I learned from Jedi and Sith masters of this power. None have ever managed to surpass me in this art…"
Around the time Tracey Davis first learned the double-bladed lightsaber, Luna Lovegood set the holocron of Naga Sadow within a small stone circle a half-mile from the magical homesteads of Ottery St. Catchpole. She knew her father loathed her choice to agree to train under Darth Gladiolus, but it was necessary. If the Sith Lord was to be toppled, then someone with the same power and knowledge was required. It sickened her to surrender to the corrupting power of the dark side, but what choice did she have? All knowledge of the Jedi, enemies of the Sith, could only be accessed through the Sith Lord.
Luna knew she did not have the woman's trust yet. Perhaps Davis could access that information, but her fellow apprentice would doubt Luna's curiosity and interest. Darth Gladiolus had revealed through their analysis and questioning of the Sith Code that Luna Lovegood was the least Sith-like of the three apprentices. Neville Longbottom, despite his good heart, had enough pain and weakness in his heart to succumb to the dark side's allure. Tracey Davis had already surrendered herself to Gladiolus's domination. She would sacrifice everything in service to her master.
Perhaps even her life.
She shook her head and then stared at the holocron warily. Luna knew she needed to seize the dark side of the Force to activate the holocron. But the dark side disgusted her. It was like an oil slick over water—she had learned of them thanks to Lord Gladiolus. For some queer reason, Darth Gladiolus enjoyed discussing the magical world with Luna. Why she heard those stories over Neville or Davis befuddled her. Her best guess was that her "master" sought to manipulate her with tales of a world just as strange as magical Britain would be to a newborn witch or wizard.
She sighed. What did it matter worrying over anything she could not influence? For now, Luna could only act in the present. She could plan for the future, though she needed to remain careful to not reveal her true feelings around Lord Gladiolus. The Sith Lord could sense the emotions of those around her. And while Luna had managed to keep her secrets since becoming a Sith apprentice, she increasingly feared that the mental barrier that protected her thoughts and feelings had been pierced by Darth Gladiolus's terrible power.
Anger and frustration welled within Luna. She held it tight as she reached out with the Force. The holocron responded to her feelings. She swallowed thickly as the Sith Lord Naga Sadow appeared before her. His wretched face and slight, dismissive sneer still disgusted.
"Does Lord Gladiolus believe she can gift my holocron to any fool she knows to be Force-sensitive?"
"I asked to be taught by one such as you, Naga Sadow," Luna said, seeking to sound polite. "I have heard her tales of Sith alchemy. I wish to master it. After that, perhaps prove mastery of Sith sorcery."
The words made her skill crawl; yet she genuinely meant them. Sith alchemy might be a topic that Darth Gladiolus was educated in, but her knowledge was neither as wide nor as deep as she believed. Luna saw in that ignorance a chance to use a Sith Lord's power against Gladiolus. It was a risky venture, but beggars could not be choosers. Any available venture needed to be seized. Any others who might oppose Gladiolus were now gone, dead, or forced to hide their true feelings from society. And Sith sorcery, which she had learned of from Tracey Davis, should augment her magical abilities enough that it would not matter if her alchemical pursuits failed her—or risked destroying her soul.
"So you did," Naga Sadow muttered, a hand appearing to grasp his chin. "And Sith sorcery? How fascinating… I see you still have not been enthralled by the power and potential of the dark side like Gladiolus when she was an apprentice."
"I'm aware," Luna said. It pained her to speak so commonly around these strange Sith Lords. But she knew if she presented her true self, they would know the infidelity in her heart. She would destroy their foul order. "I was chosen by her to be trained, not the other way around. I accepted the offer for I wished to learn more of the strange power we share in common." She paused before admitting, "My father dislikes my choice. But it is my life to live."
Naga Sadow nodded. "So is it. You have bent to her whims, unwilling to stand on your own feet."
Luna stiffened. It sounded painfully true coming from Naga Sadow, yet she could not allow herself to believe his words. She had not bent to Gladiolus's whims. She had made her choice after several torturous days, fearing the Sith Lord would return and use her father's life to force Luna to become her apprentice. She knew all too well she had lucked out when it came to her father being left unharmed. Even after what he printed before and after the Janus Rebellion, Xenophilius Lovegood was permitted to continue printing as long as he did not stray across the "blasphemy" laws her master slipped into place.
She finds it amusing, forcing Daddy to step around the unfair laws she put into place when he returned to the old stories. Before the Quibbler became so threatened he returned to poking holes in the Sith regime.
And we all know Gladiolus uses me as a hostage against Daddy, to ensure he never oversteps.
"You do not agree with my sentiment," remarked Naga Sadow, his beady eyes staring into hers. "What a curious apprentice you are, Lovegood."
"I'm all I need to be," she replied. "Now, for my lesson?"
Naga Sadow grunted. "I presume Lord Gladiolus informed you of the topics you must be well-versed in to learn my art?"
Luna nodded. Though her mind wandered and her eyes saw that which was invisible to others, she possessed the keen mind and quick wit of her house. She had been sorted into Ravenclaw for a reason. That included taking Runes and Arithmancy during her years at Hogwarts.
Her heart beat harshly, recalling the castle. She had been "dismissed" after the apprenticeship became official. Luna knew she was expected to sit her NEWTs in the coming spring. Yet she found herself less and less inclined toward the typical witchy paths through society.
Her strength in the Force appeared to be the primary cause. It had been the same with Lord Gladiolus years ago as she had eventually learned. Luna believed she witnessed the same phenomena in both and Neville. Both were better at masking their growing disinclination toward magic in favor of the Force. If pressed, Luna would say that Neville hid his tendencies better despite the fact they spent more time together than with Davis.
No doubt Gladiolus knows of the divide among her apprentices. Knowing her mind, she may believe it good. If we cannot work together, then we cannot challenge her. After all that happened during the Janus Rebellion, it became clear not a single witch or wizard could stand against her. No. One requires the Force and knowledge of it to face her and court victory.
"Good," Naga Sadow drawled, drawing Luna from her thoughts mind. The Sith Lord appeared dismissive of her, as if he knew her heart and was unimpressed. "I will lecture through the basics. You will take to this art differently than Lord Gladiolus."
"Because she only used it once. For her ritual."
The Sith Lord paused before murmuring, "Indeed."
A lie.
Luna knew the lie thanks to the Force. Without it, she might have failed to detect the lie. With only a witch's training, she probably would have thought nothing of the man's pause or the way he uttered that word. Instead, she detected the lie. She knew that to press Naga Sadow would risk him dismissing her. And that would cut her off from this source of power for opposing Darth Gladiolus. Luna could not risk that. Not when she might learn something valuable toward her ultimate aim of ending her false master's reign.
"I'm ready to begin," she said, hoping these lessons would not prove fruitful.
Unlike with the holocron of Naga Sadow and his knowledge of Sith alchemy, Salazar Slytherin failed to recover and transport a holocron specialized in Sith sorcery to Earth. All Luna had to work with was a data pad filled with thousands of half-translated pages concerning various exercises, spells, and means of wielding Sith sorcery. She found the wealth of knowledge granted to her by a bemused Darth Gladiolus to be more interesting than her Sith alchemy lessons with Naga Sadow.
Within the confines and boundaries of Sith sorcery was a greater degree of use, both before and during any conflict. Sith alchemy required preparation, even to deploy something prepared ahead of time. Given she would inevitably face Darth Gladiolus in a conflict, it was necessary to have an option the woman had no answer for.
She often read the data pad while at the Ministry, sitting beneath the fountain statue that replaced the golden insult to magical races that graced the atrium for generations. Luna hated that she preferred this new statue to the old one. But it did not condescend to the magical races that also called Britain home. Instead, it showed them on equal footing, with many of the long-forgotten fae flitting about with sprinkles of water pouring from their mouths. Water sprung from the wands of the witch and wizard, from the bow of the centaur, from the fingers of a house elf, and from the sharp quill of the goblin. Each faced the other, gathered in a circle around a recreation of the grand fae gateway at Glastonbury Tor. Sitting beneath it brought Luna peace. She almost felt serene. But those emotions were unbecoming of a Sith apprentice.
Then again, she had chosen this path for one sole purpose: to destroy Darth Gladiolus. Could she truly claim to be better than Davis, who wholeheartedly gave herself over to the Sith Order? Perhaps not. But enough had been sacrificed to avenge Hermione's memory that she could not turn back now. Not when she had lost the same things that made life worthwhile.
For if Luna could laugh, she would. As she progressed through her studies into Sith alchemy and sorcery, the joy and wonder of life faded. The world dulled. Not to grey, for a darker shade cast itself over all her gaze crossed. The change plagued her. And when she had gone to her 'master' for help, she received little in return: an utterance of "How odd" and a swift dismissal as Gladiolus sought out her holocrons.
Not that I ever received an answer.
She groaned and closed her eyes. Her head tilted back and rested against the marble mock of Glastonbury Tor. Luna breathed in and out slowly, attuning herself to the splash and spray around her. It was no coincidence she was tucked away in one of the few spots free of water. She had even snuck into the Ministry one night just to determine where she could peacefully sit without getting wet.
It was worth the effort.
Luna turned her attention to the data pad she held. The passages she was reading came from a spell book almost six thousand years old, translated through several languages before being transcribed by Darth Gladiolus from galactic basic standard into English. Almost wished to learn the galactic lingua franca. The three apprentices relied on translations and holocrons. Miraculously, the pyramidal devices did not require translation. They managed to speak and be understood, despite the millennia separating them. Luna believed the Force helped in the process, though she had no means to prove her theory. After all, she had relinquished Naga Sadow's holocron. Her readings concerning Sith sorcery consumed enough time she neglected holocrons except for her lightsaber instructor—and she would not test her theory on that.
Luna shivered. Fear gripped her heart as the image of her face bearing the sickly eyes of a Sith Lord flashed in her mind. She rubbed her arms, seeking to banish any recollection of that cursed image. Listening to the fountain and breathing in time with its spray helped draw away her fears.
Eventually, Luna calmed enough to focus her mind on the task of learning Sith sorcery. Some of what she read sickened her, but it was necessary. Sometimes evil had to be temporarily embraced before one could expunge it from the world.
Late October had been a time of sorrow growing up as a Longbottom. Between the murder of the Potters and the ghastly torture of his parents, Neville Longbottom had always struggled through the weeks leading into the end of the tenth month and those beginning the eleventh. He knew those feelings came from events beyond his control. Frustratingly, those feelings rested on his shoulders like a heavy cloak weighed down by a torrential downpour.
This year, two more weights hung heavily on him. The first was his grandmother's execution. Months had passed since, yet he vividly recalled the sight of her hanging from her intestines, her arms and legs ripped off and tossed aside. He had known she had been involved the moment he learned of the Janus Rebellion. But to witness her be punished so? That scarred his soul, leaving him open to the second weight.
"Awaken," he snarled at the holocron sitting on his desk. The crystalline pyramid rose a few inches into the air. It flashed bright crimson as the corners twisted. A moment later, a sallow face with beady eyes and a crooked smile appeared before him.
"So you come before me once more, child."
Neville did not recall the name of this Sith Lord. He had gone through so many holocrons he feared Gladiolus might finally strip him of his apprentice title. But he had his reasons why he worked through so many. Despite their explanations and examples, something about the Sith Code and the Sith way struck him as hollow. It saddened and infuriated him in equal measure, creating the perfect brew of negative emotion to bolster his connection to the dark side of the Force and disguise his disgust with all it meant to be a Sith.
"I have. I wanted to clarify a few points from our prior—"
The Sith Lord snarled dismissively. A moment later, the holocron twisted and deactivated. It clattered onto the hard surface of his desk, wobbling after a particularly jarring strike on one of its edges.
Neville sighed. Another holocron that would no longer respond to him. It took less and less time to achieve that particular feat.
Gladiolus won't believe my reasons why. She says the holocrons forget most of what they learn from previous students. But from what Luna has told me of Naga Sadow…
He sighed. If there was a silver lining to his situation, it was that he shared it with Luna Lovegood. The peculiar girl had more success with Sith alchemy and sorcery than Neville did with half the holocrons he worked with. Perhaps the issue was that he used holocrons to begin with. Luna had given up the few issued to her, only ever bothering with whichever Sith Lord instructed her in Djem So. Neville would have never guessed that Luna would be the type to embrace a form that allowed her to turn back an enemy's power.
Then again, I hadn't expected to select Makashi after being told of the forms.
As for Tracey Davis, neither knew which form she learned. They had their suspicions. Given the girl wielded a double-bladed lightsaber, they struggled to determine her chosen form. Sometimes Neville saw traits of their master's Ataru, and other times the Juyo many Sith Lords had embraced. Sometimes, he wondered if Davis had foolishly chosen Niiman. Ten years to master a form was almost mad by his reckoning. And Davis was too much of a Sith to embrace Soresu.
Neville rose to his feet and picked up the holocron. It was early in the day. Gladiolus wanted him to spend time in meditation and studying. He was technically the furthest behind, having not chosen any Force powers to focus his time and energy on. While he had mastered pushing and pulling and moving things through the air, his bolts of Force lightning remained intermittent half the time and he had yet to sway another's mind.
If only the dark side could heal, he thought, heading for the door. If it could, then I would choose that power. But it sounds to be one only the Jedi learn.
He reached the door when someone knocked. Neville froze. He did not recall anyone arriving on the estate grounds. Nobody had walked across the wards, nor had anyone come by Floo or dared apparate through the wards. For a second, he thought to draw his wand. It was the old impulse beat into him by Edelweiss Potter with her knowing ways.
But that woman was long dead. He was Darth Gladiolus's student now, no matter how it disgusted him. Oaths had been sworn. Longbottoms abided by their word.
Neville reached out with the Force. He blinked at sensing the guarded mind of Luna Lovegood.
What's she doing here?
He yanked the door open. Before he could ask his question, Luna said, "I want to speak with you about something important."
"…what exactly?" he asked, wary of the answer Luna would give him.
"We both desire the same thing: to remove our master from her powers." Luna glanced past him into the room. "May I enter? I have an hour before I'm expected back at the Ministry."
"I was about to—"
Without waiting for an affirmative answer, Luna Lovegood slipped into the office. She glanced around as she made her way to the chair across from Neville's seat. He sighed and closed the door, crossing the office with lumbering steps as he pondered what Luna wanted. Did she truly think he would be party to a conspiracy against their master? Even together, they did not possess the power to defeat her. Given Davis would side with Gladiolus over them, it would be two against two.
It pained him to admit it, but Neville knew he did not possess the strength in the Force or the strength of will to kill Davis. Stop her? Yes. But to kill?
Yet that was what it would require. He knew it deep down. Tracey Davis had surrendered herself to the dark side. She would be a Sith Lord no matter what. The only chance of saving her from that life was to kill her—and in doing so, they would need to kill their master, Darth Gladiolus.
Once he took a seat, Luna said simply, "We need to get rid of our master before we become hers in body and mind. We must kill a Dark Lord."
Neville's hands shook for a moment. And then he made the choice he should have settled on long ago.
Darth Gladiolus, Dark Lord of the Sith, watched a holo recording of her three apprentices dueling. She had been surprised by Tracey's desire to learn the double-bladed lightsaber, but now it was clear that choice had been made wisely. She proved herself skilled with the weapon, holding off Luna and Neville as the two worked together. Admittedly, they practiced the lightsaber less than Davis.
They should be rebuked for that failure, Gladiolus decided. She had focused her students on any course that would quickly lead them to power. Tracey desired control and thus learned battle meditation. Luna stuck to that which was familiar and thus learned Sith alchemy and sorcery. Neville lagged in his studies, so she supplied him with the oldest holocrons in Lord Salazar's collection with the belief the wisdom of the ancients would reach and guide him.
She frowned slightly as she continued watching the holo. Tracey had a moment to strike Neville. But she hesitated. Gladiolus tapped a finger on her desk, pondering how she should rebuke her most loyal apprentice for her weakness. Their training sabers would not slice through flesh, so no damage would be done to Neville.
"Should I test them?" she wondered aloud. They had spent several months under her limited tutelage. Christmas was a few days away. A week after that, new years would arrive. Almost a year had passed since the Janus Rebellion. A year since any dared threaten her rule.
And if what I've sensed from Luna and Neville is true, perhaps a challenge will come sooner than I expect…
An idea sprung into her mind. She almost felt mad entering it. But it would separate the wheat from the chaff. Beyond advising them and teaching a few lessons about the nature of the dark side and the Sith Code, Gladiolus had been hands-off with their training.
She would learn whether or not these apprentices of hers could be worthy Sith Lords. Whether or not she could rely on them to continue down the paths she tried to guide them to. They're like horses and water.
And if they dared reject her and the Sith, they would die. Gladiolus would accept weak apprentices before traitors.
A grin crossed her face. Gladiolus looked forward to witnessing their power and testing their wills. And fortunately, she already had a suitable—and secret—location for their test.