Kyle Raiden
May 20th, 2004, 10:41:21 AM
I wrote this nearly 2 years ago, as a piece of creative writing for my English Language GCSE...but I don't think many people except for me and my teacher have read it. So...here it is.
- Jay.
Darkness
Hard to see, the Dark Side is. No light from it shines. Darkness. Night. When The Night comes, cast off the day will be, into the shadows. Rise not shall the Sun, and no light again shall shine, until driven away is The Night. Only one can drive off the night: a warrior, fearsome and pure. Drive off The Night he will, but at a cost most great. A choice he will make. Drive off The Night, and he shall triumph; fight The Night, and descend he shall, into far darker night than this.
- The words of Master Yoda, Jedi Knight.
The planet below spun mournfully in endless darkness. For a thousand years, a strange force had blocked out its sun, and flooded its lands with evil. The bravest warriors had fought and died; trying to liberate a world from a force they did not understand. And for Inyos Hei’aan, this force was no clearer to him than the sky on L’Khos’t. With a sigh that rivalled the winds of the temple ruins on Orynaak, Inyos brought his Starfighter down through the dark shroud and onto the planet’s surface.
The darkness was everywhere. It didn’t merely block out what you saw: it surrounded you. You drowned in it. The beam of light from his lantern did nothing, except for creating a small bubble of light around him. Anxious to get him, the darkness formed a wall around him.
As if total blackness was not enough, there was a thunderous, menacing silence. No sounds of insects going about their lives. No rodents rustling in the leaves around his feet. No leaves. People said that nothing lived on L’Khos’t. And if anything were alive here, it wouldn’t be for long. But had there been death, destruction, Inyos would have sensed it. The Force would scream with the pain and agony of it. But it did not. The Force did nothing. No screams, no laughs…not even a whisper. The Force was a void: a vast empty, dark mass. Like everything else on this forsaken rock. Moving in a circle around his ship, he began to search the area around him, in a path slowly spiralling outwards. He made sure to know exactly where his ship was. It was his only escape, the only way out of this place.
There was a tremendous howl, and Inyos felt a presence brush past him like a drifting breeze. He closed his eyes, and reached out around him with his senses and perceptions. He searched for the mysterious presence, but found nothing. He searched further, and further until…
He screamed. His hands reached up and clawed at his face, and he collapsed onto the floor. Pain, fear, suffering, death, all rippled through his body. One place, a central vortex, had collected all of the bad things of this world, and concentrated them in one, dense group. He saw people slaughtered; brutally murdered; executed; their homes decimated; animals exterminated. All in that short space of time, these images rushed through his mind. He saw and remembered every look of horror and agony on every face, their features distorted in expressions of immense suffering. What could do this?
As the feelings subsided, Inyos allowed himself to relax. Collapsed in a heap on the floor, he had no idea where he was. The lantern, thankfully, still glowed with its golden, hope-giving light. He grabbed frantically at it, and drew it in close, clutching it to his chest. Slowly, he rose to his feet and, with the lantern swinging back and forth before him, made his way to where his ship was. He hoped. And then, once again, like a breeze, the presence came. It surrounded him, chilling him through and through. And then, by some divine force or incompetent quartermaster, his lantern went out. He was left in the darkness. Alone.
* * *
In the highest room of the tallest tower, she surveyed her empire: an endless realm of endless darkness, devoid of detail, of feature, of life. The only light came from the dull, blood red radiance that hung about the room. There were no lights. No candles. Nothing to produce the scarlet glow; it just was. Like everything there, it needed no reason, no purpose, except simply to exist.
The crimson aura did give colour to her otherwise pallid complexion. Her eyes were deep and dark, filled with the endless suffering of countless worlds. Her lips, grey and full, tightened up to form an icy, emotionless smile. And her hair, long and black, flowed and cascaded down her smooth, silky skin and down her soft, supple neck. Under any other circumstances, her gently curved, and her perfectly shaped form, to which her black dress clung in a most flattering manner, would be considered to be beautiful. Even the strongest willed men had been unable to resist her. She glanced around at the small piles of skulls, ribs and other assorted bones that had collected in her chamber. The corners of her mouth twitched up into an evil grin. She radiated with everything that was bad and wrong in this life, and yet she was irresistible: the women of most men’s dreams. She almost had a power to control the minds of men. In fact, she did have a power to control the minds of men. She could control their thoughts, feelings, and pry upon their feeble, weak masculine emotions.
She noticed a spider, one of the only live creatures on this world. It spun its web furiously; its back robed with freshly laid eggs. Soon, her young would hatch, and then the species would multiply and multiply. Soon the race that she had spared, her perfect species, would spread all over this world.
It was fitting that her new master race would be the one with most in common with her. She gave the Black Widow a few more seconds of her attention, and then focused on the new subject to please her emotions. A man. Good. It has been a while since the last time I had anything to play with. She let out an evil, high-pitched laugh. He should serve my purposes well.
* * *
Since when he was a child, darkness had scared him. It filled him with fear and anxiety. When he was small, his parents had been killed in the dark. A bounty hunter had in fact killed them, but the young boy had not realised that. And still, he worried that the darkness would come and get him. That is why he always kept his Lightsaber at his side.
Not that the ancient bladed weapon could help, of course. Even its energy could not slice through the shroud of darkness that covered him. He was blind. An entire army could be surrounding him, but he could not see it. Nor did he want to reach out with his mind and probe for it. The suffering he had felt before still lingered within him, not so much a pain, but more of a dull ache: the sort that never goes away.
Slowly, he rose to his feet. “I am a Jedi,” he assured himself. “I fear nothing. Not death, not suffering, not even the dark side.” Slowly, step-by-step, he marched forward. What a fool I have been. I was afraid of an enemy that was not there. He reached out with his mind, just far enough to ‘see’ what was around him. Nothing. A barren empty wasteland surrounded him. Not a single thing for miles around. Except for one, solitary object. A towering structure of stone, that loomed above the horizon menacingly. He knew that in that building was the source of his pain. He did not know how he knew. He just did, through and through.
Gripping his Lightsaber tightly, he set off at a run. He wanted to do to this thing what it had done to him. He wanted to retaliate. He wanted revenge. He felt a burning inside him. It revitalised him, making him stronger. No longer did he feel the crushing force of fatigue. He did not need sleep. And he would not sleep until he had given the thing what it deserved.
Fear leads to anger…
* * *
From her tower, she watched him approach. She sighed in ecstasy as the anger he radiated flooded through her. She closed her eyes and breathed in deeply. The force of his anger filled her with a new energy. She felt relaxed, energised. It was a feeling she had not felt in a long time.
Fear…that was something she was used to. It had energy. But fear was based on a primordial instinct, the concept that something could hurt you. Fear was a reaction of self-preservation. If it was strong enough, it could save someone. And yet, fear was so easily overcome. But anger? Anger was so much stronger, so much more powerful. Anger was a much more abundant source of nourishment. And anger was something not easy to get rid of.
”You can be as angry as you want, Jedi,” she muttered. “Your anger only makes me stronger.” She laughed. And as she did, the red ambiance of the room grew brighter.
* * *
The temple became more imposing the closer Inyos got. As he drew nearer, the crying of those in pain grew louder. It was tolerable. But it might not be for much longer.
Slowly, cautiously, the young Jedi ascended the stars to the cavernous main entrance. He could feel the walls around him. But he could not feel beyond him. At first, he hardly noticed it. But as he became surrounded on all sides, he felt trapped. He’d never experienced a feeling like it. Being completely inside an enclosed space was new to him. In his fighter, he could feel space around him, outside. He knew he would get out. But would he ever get out of here?
He roamed the endless, twisting, turning labyrinth. He felt like he was going in circles, but he never saw or felt anything familiar. He was drawn onwards by a strange force. What it was, he did not know. Nor did he like it. He just knew he had to go where it led him.
As he walked, his anger grew. It swelled inside him. It hurt to be so angry. He tried to bottle it up, but scarcely succeeded. He tried everything his Jedi Master had taught him. But nothing worked. He did not know why he hated this mysterious force. He just did. It made him uncomfortable. It caused him pain. That was something that deserved more than merely anger.
…Anger leads to hate…
* * *
In her tower, the black widow’s eggs had hatched. She marvelled at the intricate beauty of nature. The way each tiny body and every one of those minuscule legs was crafted to grow into the most feminine-dominant creature that has, and ever will exist. Save for a few human cultures, it was the supreme woman.
She spat on the floor. Human. She felt polluted by the very name. The all-powerful Empire, for some reason, didn’t like non-humans. And, being the weak and feeble race that they were, humans followed blindly. Like so many other times in their history, humankind allowed a single person to govern the way they felt and thought. Rarely did they do anything about someone that was doing something wrong. They were feeble and recessive. But what was worse was that race after race; world after world, all stood aside to let these humans dominate them. It was enough to make any sane person sick.
Her race however, would never do such a thing. Hardly surprising, as she was the only one left. The last of her species, thanks to the cloud. At least there was some evil in this universe that humans weren’t responsible for. But she had a lot to thank the cloud for. Since she was young, it made her stronger. It had created the fear that had made her stronger. She was the last of her race because she had absorbed the rest. There had become a time when those people had been literally scared to death; killed by an irrational fear of something that they did not understand. So she lived alone, waiting for the occasional, unfortunate passer-by or over-eager youth to stumble into her domain.
The new presence, the Jedi, would give her much strength. He could even help her spawn an entire new race. Their combined powers over the force would give their children unspeakable power. Not that the father would live to see it. The Black Widow had taught her much. It had never been wrong before. One more custom to follow certainly couldn’t hurt.
* * *
The prison in which he now roamed seemed different to the outside world. The walls that blocked out the Force kept the darkness outside. No longer did its depressing weight press down upon him. From his belt, he pulled out his Lightsaber, and thumbed the activation stud. With a fizz and a hiss, it burst into light.
An icy blue glow filled the corridor he stood in. The light bounced off the walls, reflected back from the dull, drab stone that had not seen light for, as the legends told him, over one hundred years.
By the light of his ‘saber, he marched on, a newly discovered strength coursing through his body. Sweeping his arm back and forth, the energy blade drove off any shadows and dark things that dared to cross his path. And behind, keeping its distance, the darkness stalked him.
The walls were covered with the strange writings and images of a long-forgotten race. They showed, in the native’s eyes, the coming of the Night, and the slow and painful death of their race. The strange faces, while poorly carved, clearly showed the twisted and contorted faces of those in pain. One figure stood above them all; a mysterious, evil-looking shape, that towered above them all, spreading death and destruction across the face of the world. He ran his fingers across the stone, and traced the shapes of each pain-ridden expression. He shuddered, and continued on his way towards the summit of the temple.
* * *
The room was blood red. The colour flooded into every corner, and cascaded down the steps that led up to the altar. A fire burned, its scarlet flames struck at the air, as snakes would to the unwary traveller who strayed too close. Inyos restored his Lightsabre to its place at his side. He would not need its light here. He lifted his hand to shield his face from it, and slowly surveyed the temple’s highest atrium.
The pain was almost intolerable. What had been a faint whisper of a memory was now almost as vivid as when he had felt it before. It clouded his mind, and overrode his senses. He collapsed onto the floor, grasping at his temples. He rolled down the stone steps, until he was far enough away to regain some shred of sanity. He opened his eyes, and looked up: at her.
“Welcome, foolish mortal.” Her voice was soft and gentle. He stared longingly at her.
“Who…are you?” he asked, forcing those words out in front of the many other things he longed to say and ask.
“I am your new ruler.” She smiled, and Inyos felt his heart skip a beat. She seemed so beautiful, so perfect. But something in his mind made him feel strange, like something wasn’t quite right. “Will you do something for me?”
“Yes,” he murmured. “Anything…” The feeling inside him grew stronger. He knew he needed to run, to get away from this world. But he couldn’t. Not know. Not with her here.
“Good.” She laughed, and drew something from behind her back. Swinging her arms up, her own, crimson-bladed Lightsabre erupted into life. “Then you will die for me.” The red blade swung down. Inyos’ mind cleared, and he rolled to the side, just in time. Igniting his own weapon, he brought it up to block hers. He struggled onto his feet, and stood to face her. “Good,” she laughed. “I like it when my victim’s resist.”
Inyos leapt backwards as she slashed at him from left and right. Further and further backward she drove him, up towards the altar and the fire. He tried to back away more, but the pain drained all strength from his body. His knees gave way, and he fell onto the floor.
“Don’t you see?” she cried. “I am your ruler. You are nothing compared to me. Give up now, and die with some of your dignity intact.”
Inyos’ mind filled with the pain from the fire. Through the death of countless others, he could see his own. “No…” he cried weakly.
Swinging with his arm, his Lightsaber cut across her. She screamed. Then there was silence. Inyos tried to crawl forwards, but couldn’t. The pain was too intense. He just lay there, dying. His vision blurred and, the last thing he saw was her screaming face. He had won vengeance for all of those that she killed. He had triumphed. His task was complete. Everything went black.
…Hate leads to Suffering.
* * *
His eyes flicked open. Inyos looked around. He was still in the temple, but the pain was gone. He felt a thousand times stronger than ever before. A new energy coursed through his body. He laughed and smiled.
He crawled over to the body of his fallen opponent, and lay beside her. He pried her Lightsaber from her cold, dead fingers. She lay there, silent and still. He sighed, and whispered to her: “I am the Night-bringer now. The Dark Lord of L’Khos’t. Forever more, this world shall be mine.” He laughed, and rose to his feet. And all around, spiders scurried about, off to overrun the new world of Darth Hei’aan.
Fear; Anger; Hate: these are the paths to the Dark Side.
- Jay.
Darkness
Hard to see, the Dark Side is. No light from it shines. Darkness. Night. When The Night comes, cast off the day will be, into the shadows. Rise not shall the Sun, and no light again shall shine, until driven away is The Night. Only one can drive off the night: a warrior, fearsome and pure. Drive off The Night he will, but at a cost most great. A choice he will make. Drive off The Night, and he shall triumph; fight The Night, and descend he shall, into far darker night than this.
- The words of Master Yoda, Jedi Knight.
The planet below spun mournfully in endless darkness. For a thousand years, a strange force had blocked out its sun, and flooded its lands with evil. The bravest warriors had fought and died; trying to liberate a world from a force they did not understand. And for Inyos Hei’aan, this force was no clearer to him than the sky on L’Khos’t. With a sigh that rivalled the winds of the temple ruins on Orynaak, Inyos brought his Starfighter down through the dark shroud and onto the planet’s surface.
The darkness was everywhere. It didn’t merely block out what you saw: it surrounded you. You drowned in it. The beam of light from his lantern did nothing, except for creating a small bubble of light around him. Anxious to get him, the darkness formed a wall around him.
As if total blackness was not enough, there was a thunderous, menacing silence. No sounds of insects going about their lives. No rodents rustling in the leaves around his feet. No leaves. People said that nothing lived on L’Khos’t. And if anything were alive here, it wouldn’t be for long. But had there been death, destruction, Inyos would have sensed it. The Force would scream with the pain and agony of it. But it did not. The Force did nothing. No screams, no laughs…not even a whisper. The Force was a void: a vast empty, dark mass. Like everything else on this forsaken rock. Moving in a circle around his ship, he began to search the area around him, in a path slowly spiralling outwards. He made sure to know exactly where his ship was. It was his only escape, the only way out of this place.
There was a tremendous howl, and Inyos felt a presence brush past him like a drifting breeze. He closed his eyes, and reached out around him with his senses and perceptions. He searched for the mysterious presence, but found nothing. He searched further, and further until…
He screamed. His hands reached up and clawed at his face, and he collapsed onto the floor. Pain, fear, suffering, death, all rippled through his body. One place, a central vortex, had collected all of the bad things of this world, and concentrated them in one, dense group. He saw people slaughtered; brutally murdered; executed; their homes decimated; animals exterminated. All in that short space of time, these images rushed through his mind. He saw and remembered every look of horror and agony on every face, their features distorted in expressions of immense suffering. What could do this?
As the feelings subsided, Inyos allowed himself to relax. Collapsed in a heap on the floor, he had no idea where he was. The lantern, thankfully, still glowed with its golden, hope-giving light. He grabbed frantically at it, and drew it in close, clutching it to his chest. Slowly, he rose to his feet and, with the lantern swinging back and forth before him, made his way to where his ship was. He hoped. And then, once again, like a breeze, the presence came. It surrounded him, chilling him through and through. And then, by some divine force or incompetent quartermaster, his lantern went out. He was left in the darkness. Alone.
* * *
In the highest room of the tallest tower, she surveyed her empire: an endless realm of endless darkness, devoid of detail, of feature, of life. The only light came from the dull, blood red radiance that hung about the room. There were no lights. No candles. Nothing to produce the scarlet glow; it just was. Like everything there, it needed no reason, no purpose, except simply to exist.
The crimson aura did give colour to her otherwise pallid complexion. Her eyes were deep and dark, filled with the endless suffering of countless worlds. Her lips, grey and full, tightened up to form an icy, emotionless smile. And her hair, long and black, flowed and cascaded down her smooth, silky skin and down her soft, supple neck. Under any other circumstances, her gently curved, and her perfectly shaped form, to which her black dress clung in a most flattering manner, would be considered to be beautiful. Even the strongest willed men had been unable to resist her. She glanced around at the small piles of skulls, ribs and other assorted bones that had collected in her chamber. The corners of her mouth twitched up into an evil grin. She radiated with everything that was bad and wrong in this life, and yet she was irresistible: the women of most men’s dreams. She almost had a power to control the minds of men. In fact, she did have a power to control the minds of men. She could control their thoughts, feelings, and pry upon their feeble, weak masculine emotions.
She noticed a spider, one of the only live creatures on this world. It spun its web furiously; its back robed with freshly laid eggs. Soon, her young would hatch, and then the species would multiply and multiply. Soon the race that she had spared, her perfect species, would spread all over this world.
It was fitting that her new master race would be the one with most in common with her. She gave the Black Widow a few more seconds of her attention, and then focused on the new subject to please her emotions. A man. Good. It has been a while since the last time I had anything to play with. She let out an evil, high-pitched laugh. He should serve my purposes well.
* * *
Since when he was a child, darkness had scared him. It filled him with fear and anxiety. When he was small, his parents had been killed in the dark. A bounty hunter had in fact killed them, but the young boy had not realised that. And still, he worried that the darkness would come and get him. That is why he always kept his Lightsaber at his side.
Not that the ancient bladed weapon could help, of course. Even its energy could not slice through the shroud of darkness that covered him. He was blind. An entire army could be surrounding him, but he could not see it. Nor did he want to reach out with his mind and probe for it. The suffering he had felt before still lingered within him, not so much a pain, but more of a dull ache: the sort that never goes away.
Slowly, he rose to his feet. “I am a Jedi,” he assured himself. “I fear nothing. Not death, not suffering, not even the dark side.” Slowly, step-by-step, he marched forward. What a fool I have been. I was afraid of an enemy that was not there. He reached out with his mind, just far enough to ‘see’ what was around him. Nothing. A barren empty wasteland surrounded him. Not a single thing for miles around. Except for one, solitary object. A towering structure of stone, that loomed above the horizon menacingly. He knew that in that building was the source of his pain. He did not know how he knew. He just did, through and through.
Gripping his Lightsaber tightly, he set off at a run. He wanted to do to this thing what it had done to him. He wanted to retaliate. He wanted revenge. He felt a burning inside him. It revitalised him, making him stronger. No longer did he feel the crushing force of fatigue. He did not need sleep. And he would not sleep until he had given the thing what it deserved.
Fear leads to anger…
* * *
From her tower, she watched him approach. She sighed in ecstasy as the anger he radiated flooded through her. She closed her eyes and breathed in deeply. The force of his anger filled her with a new energy. She felt relaxed, energised. It was a feeling she had not felt in a long time.
Fear…that was something she was used to. It had energy. But fear was based on a primordial instinct, the concept that something could hurt you. Fear was a reaction of self-preservation. If it was strong enough, it could save someone. And yet, fear was so easily overcome. But anger? Anger was so much stronger, so much more powerful. Anger was a much more abundant source of nourishment. And anger was something not easy to get rid of.
”You can be as angry as you want, Jedi,” she muttered. “Your anger only makes me stronger.” She laughed. And as she did, the red ambiance of the room grew brighter.
* * *
The temple became more imposing the closer Inyos got. As he drew nearer, the crying of those in pain grew louder. It was tolerable. But it might not be for much longer.
Slowly, cautiously, the young Jedi ascended the stars to the cavernous main entrance. He could feel the walls around him. But he could not feel beyond him. At first, he hardly noticed it. But as he became surrounded on all sides, he felt trapped. He’d never experienced a feeling like it. Being completely inside an enclosed space was new to him. In his fighter, he could feel space around him, outside. He knew he would get out. But would he ever get out of here?
He roamed the endless, twisting, turning labyrinth. He felt like he was going in circles, but he never saw or felt anything familiar. He was drawn onwards by a strange force. What it was, he did not know. Nor did he like it. He just knew he had to go where it led him.
As he walked, his anger grew. It swelled inside him. It hurt to be so angry. He tried to bottle it up, but scarcely succeeded. He tried everything his Jedi Master had taught him. But nothing worked. He did not know why he hated this mysterious force. He just did. It made him uncomfortable. It caused him pain. That was something that deserved more than merely anger.
…Anger leads to hate…
* * *
In her tower, the black widow’s eggs had hatched. She marvelled at the intricate beauty of nature. The way each tiny body and every one of those minuscule legs was crafted to grow into the most feminine-dominant creature that has, and ever will exist. Save for a few human cultures, it was the supreme woman.
She spat on the floor. Human. She felt polluted by the very name. The all-powerful Empire, for some reason, didn’t like non-humans. And, being the weak and feeble race that they were, humans followed blindly. Like so many other times in their history, humankind allowed a single person to govern the way they felt and thought. Rarely did they do anything about someone that was doing something wrong. They were feeble and recessive. But what was worse was that race after race; world after world, all stood aside to let these humans dominate them. It was enough to make any sane person sick.
Her race however, would never do such a thing. Hardly surprising, as she was the only one left. The last of her species, thanks to the cloud. At least there was some evil in this universe that humans weren’t responsible for. But she had a lot to thank the cloud for. Since she was young, it made her stronger. It had created the fear that had made her stronger. She was the last of her race because she had absorbed the rest. There had become a time when those people had been literally scared to death; killed by an irrational fear of something that they did not understand. So she lived alone, waiting for the occasional, unfortunate passer-by or over-eager youth to stumble into her domain.
The new presence, the Jedi, would give her much strength. He could even help her spawn an entire new race. Their combined powers over the force would give their children unspeakable power. Not that the father would live to see it. The Black Widow had taught her much. It had never been wrong before. One more custom to follow certainly couldn’t hurt.
* * *
The prison in which he now roamed seemed different to the outside world. The walls that blocked out the Force kept the darkness outside. No longer did its depressing weight press down upon him. From his belt, he pulled out his Lightsaber, and thumbed the activation stud. With a fizz and a hiss, it burst into light.
An icy blue glow filled the corridor he stood in. The light bounced off the walls, reflected back from the dull, drab stone that had not seen light for, as the legends told him, over one hundred years.
By the light of his ‘saber, he marched on, a newly discovered strength coursing through his body. Sweeping his arm back and forth, the energy blade drove off any shadows and dark things that dared to cross his path. And behind, keeping its distance, the darkness stalked him.
The walls were covered with the strange writings and images of a long-forgotten race. They showed, in the native’s eyes, the coming of the Night, and the slow and painful death of their race. The strange faces, while poorly carved, clearly showed the twisted and contorted faces of those in pain. One figure stood above them all; a mysterious, evil-looking shape, that towered above them all, spreading death and destruction across the face of the world. He ran his fingers across the stone, and traced the shapes of each pain-ridden expression. He shuddered, and continued on his way towards the summit of the temple.
* * *
The room was blood red. The colour flooded into every corner, and cascaded down the steps that led up to the altar. A fire burned, its scarlet flames struck at the air, as snakes would to the unwary traveller who strayed too close. Inyos restored his Lightsabre to its place at his side. He would not need its light here. He lifted his hand to shield his face from it, and slowly surveyed the temple’s highest atrium.
The pain was almost intolerable. What had been a faint whisper of a memory was now almost as vivid as when he had felt it before. It clouded his mind, and overrode his senses. He collapsed onto the floor, grasping at his temples. He rolled down the stone steps, until he was far enough away to regain some shred of sanity. He opened his eyes, and looked up: at her.
“Welcome, foolish mortal.” Her voice was soft and gentle. He stared longingly at her.
“Who…are you?” he asked, forcing those words out in front of the many other things he longed to say and ask.
“I am your new ruler.” She smiled, and Inyos felt his heart skip a beat. She seemed so beautiful, so perfect. But something in his mind made him feel strange, like something wasn’t quite right. “Will you do something for me?”
“Yes,” he murmured. “Anything…” The feeling inside him grew stronger. He knew he needed to run, to get away from this world. But he couldn’t. Not know. Not with her here.
“Good.” She laughed, and drew something from behind her back. Swinging her arms up, her own, crimson-bladed Lightsabre erupted into life. “Then you will die for me.” The red blade swung down. Inyos’ mind cleared, and he rolled to the side, just in time. Igniting his own weapon, he brought it up to block hers. He struggled onto his feet, and stood to face her. “Good,” she laughed. “I like it when my victim’s resist.”
Inyos leapt backwards as she slashed at him from left and right. Further and further backward she drove him, up towards the altar and the fire. He tried to back away more, but the pain drained all strength from his body. His knees gave way, and he fell onto the floor.
“Don’t you see?” she cried. “I am your ruler. You are nothing compared to me. Give up now, and die with some of your dignity intact.”
Inyos’ mind filled with the pain from the fire. Through the death of countless others, he could see his own. “No…” he cried weakly.
Swinging with his arm, his Lightsaber cut across her. She screamed. Then there was silence. Inyos tried to crawl forwards, but couldn’t. The pain was too intense. He just lay there, dying. His vision blurred and, the last thing he saw was her screaming face. He had won vengeance for all of those that she killed. He had triumphed. His task was complete. Everything went black.
…Hate leads to Suffering.
* * *
His eyes flicked open. Inyos looked around. He was still in the temple, but the pain was gone. He felt a thousand times stronger than ever before. A new energy coursed through his body. He laughed and smiled.
He crawled over to the body of his fallen opponent, and lay beside her. He pried her Lightsaber from her cold, dead fingers. She lay there, silent and still. He sighed, and whispered to her: “I am the Night-bringer now. The Dark Lord of L’Khos’t. Forever more, this world shall be mine.” He laughed, and rose to his feet. And all around, spiders scurried about, off to overrun the new world of Darth Hei’aan.
Fear; Anger; Hate: these are the paths to the Dark Side.