Anbira Hicchoru
Jan 31st, 2001, 08:25:53 PM
:: Anbira Hicchoru sat in brooding thought, as he did quite often. Once again, his thoughts drifted to his Eternal War. It was a war he had fought since childhood, and a war that would stay with him like a pestilence his entire life.
Anbira was not born. Anbira was created. Created by a civilization that embraced the Eternal War above all else. To stand atop the shoulders of giants, they spilt the blood of empires, taking for themselves the birthrights of others. Anbira was an instrument of the Eternal War, for he knew of little that existed aside from destruction.
It was an existence he utterly loathed. Nobody had seen as much indescribable carnage as he had in his thirty years of fighting. It was never his choice to begin with...and he would do anything to find that thing that the Jedi always spoke of...Peace.
However, the Jedi were naive. His false hope had driven himself to their order, in hopes of ending the war within himself. The Jedi offered teachings, platitudes, and parables...and nothing more. A wise lesson would not change the inexorable nature of the universe. A kind heart would not stop the War.
It was not a hasty decision to leave the Jedi. It was the hardest thing Anbira had to do. He had to turn his back on the only people he knew who could help him end the Eternal War. He wanted desperately to end his fight...but it would continue indefinitely.
Enemies of the past, and enemies of the present stood ready to threaten Anbira. As sick of the fight as he was, he dared not show it. Any sign of weakness would amplify his problems. Added to the list were his former brethren, the Jedi, who for lack of understanding now fought him.
And so Anbira fought. He was once again fighting with no end in sight, no goal to reach. He could look back on his life and know only one thing...War.
The epiphany came as Anbira tasted his own mortality. A life of conflict had taken its toll on him, and faced with coming to grips with his empty existence, Anbira could not bear such a thought.
In countless nights of fury and anger, at his enemies, at the universe, and at himself for being born...he could only hate what he was. A shell of a man who did nothing but bring war. However, as much as he longed to change it, the Peace the Jedi spoke of would not come to pass with acts of righteousness. No...the true goal, the true essence of Anbira's meaning of life was far more Draconian.
The only way he would ever find peace was to END War. He would destroy any man who brought war to another.
Anbira Hicchoru had become the cleansing fire, the Angel of Death. ::
Anbira was not born. Anbira was created. Created by a civilization that embraced the Eternal War above all else. To stand atop the shoulders of giants, they spilt the blood of empires, taking for themselves the birthrights of others. Anbira was an instrument of the Eternal War, for he knew of little that existed aside from destruction.
It was an existence he utterly loathed. Nobody had seen as much indescribable carnage as he had in his thirty years of fighting. It was never his choice to begin with...and he would do anything to find that thing that the Jedi always spoke of...Peace.
However, the Jedi were naive. His false hope had driven himself to their order, in hopes of ending the war within himself. The Jedi offered teachings, platitudes, and parables...and nothing more. A wise lesson would not change the inexorable nature of the universe. A kind heart would not stop the War.
It was not a hasty decision to leave the Jedi. It was the hardest thing Anbira had to do. He had to turn his back on the only people he knew who could help him end the Eternal War. He wanted desperately to end his fight...but it would continue indefinitely.
Enemies of the past, and enemies of the present stood ready to threaten Anbira. As sick of the fight as he was, he dared not show it. Any sign of weakness would amplify his problems. Added to the list were his former brethren, the Jedi, who for lack of understanding now fought him.
And so Anbira fought. He was once again fighting with no end in sight, no goal to reach. He could look back on his life and know only one thing...War.
The epiphany came as Anbira tasted his own mortality. A life of conflict had taken its toll on him, and faced with coming to grips with his empty existence, Anbira could not bear such a thought.
In countless nights of fury and anger, at his enemies, at the universe, and at himself for being born...he could only hate what he was. A shell of a man who did nothing but bring war. However, as much as he longed to change it, the Peace the Jedi spoke of would not come to pass with acts of righteousness. No...the true goal, the true essence of Anbira's meaning of life was far more Draconian.
The only way he would ever find peace was to END War. He would destroy any man who brought war to another.
Anbira Hicchoru had become the cleansing fire, the Angel of Death. ::