Tempist the Uncaring
Oct 5th, 2002, 01:44:00 PM
The force is an odd thing, a tool for some, a master for others. But what happened to those who no longer embraced it? What about those who could use it, but it wasn't the main aspect of their life anymore? The answer was elusive, and known by few.
Tempist wans't one of those fortunate few who knew, he was left in the dark, alone in his mind. Even though he was a nearly unstopable force when provoked, he was also a reformed Sith. He still used the dark side, and nothing but it, but his works were no longer evil. He had no hate left, only pain and anger. Two out of three ain't bad though.
He went out walking, pondering many quesitons that cycled through his mind like a hamster in a wheel, constant and seeming without end. He walked for hours, and eventually found himself infront of a magnificent waterfall, over a hundred yards tall. On either side of the river that sprang from it was a grassy feild, where one could simply watch, and think. Tempist breathed out a long sigh, and rested his hand on the hilt of his custom long saber, Infinity, and remembered everything he'd ever gone through with it.
He remembered every fight he'd had over his 300 years of life, both wins and losses. He remembered all of the weapons he'd gone through, from his father's legendary sword, to his hand crafted (and cursed) Black Blade, straight up to his axe; Misery, which resided on his back right now.
He smiled thinking of all the people that'd effected his life more recently. His master; MnT, the mother of his child; Demonnight, and his son, Lasarian. He didn't even know where they were anymore, if they even lived. He thought of his apprentice, Klis, and his brother, Daegal. He thought of all his combatants, from Nash Stolar to Vega. From Hob to Akrabbim. He remembred slicing the arm from Dios, and the eye from Satine.
He sat down on an abnormally large stone, and closed his eyes, as he slipped into a false state of nirvana.
Tempist wans't one of those fortunate few who knew, he was left in the dark, alone in his mind. Even though he was a nearly unstopable force when provoked, he was also a reformed Sith. He still used the dark side, and nothing but it, but his works were no longer evil. He had no hate left, only pain and anger. Two out of three ain't bad though.
He went out walking, pondering many quesitons that cycled through his mind like a hamster in a wheel, constant and seeming without end. He walked for hours, and eventually found himself infront of a magnificent waterfall, over a hundred yards tall. On either side of the river that sprang from it was a grassy feild, where one could simply watch, and think. Tempist breathed out a long sigh, and rested his hand on the hilt of his custom long saber, Infinity, and remembered everything he'd ever gone through with it.
He remembered every fight he'd had over his 300 years of life, both wins and losses. He remembered all of the weapons he'd gone through, from his father's legendary sword, to his hand crafted (and cursed) Black Blade, straight up to his axe; Misery, which resided on his back right now.
He smiled thinking of all the people that'd effected his life more recently. His master; MnT, the mother of his child; Demonnight, and his son, Lasarian. He didn't even know where they were anymore, if they even lived. He thought of his apprentice, Klis, and his brother, Daegal. He thought of all his combatants, from Nash Stolar to Vega. From Hob to Akrabbim. He remembred slicing the arm from Dios, and the eye from Satine.
He sat down on an abnormally large stone, and closed his eyes, as he slipped into a false state of nirvana.