On the storm shrouded world of Dromund Kaas, was the Sith Academy where Maerae had spent most of her days as an acolyte. Its hallowed halls were known to her, as she had trained in them, bled in them, and learned to hate in them. Her instructors had been efficient, but cruel. Mistakes were met with pain, and trials were to be passed under the threat of death. In spite of everything, she still drew breath. She hadn't displeased her teachers enough to be slain.
But neither had she impressed them, beyond what she could do with a lightsaber.
Other students were more cunning, had stronger connections to the Force, or were more in tune with the Dark Side. They had impressed other Sith enough to rise to the rank of Champion, or be taken on as apprentices by true Sith. Maerae had yet to accomplish those things herself.
To begin rectifying this, Maerae had found a dark corner in one of the vast hallways, far from any of the usual entrances to the academy. She sat cross-legged, eyes closed, and with her lips drawn in a thin line. Her lightsaber floated before her, in pieces. The emitter, switch, grip; all of it was disconnected and slowly swirling in the air in front of her.
But those were largely unimportant. Though maintaining enough focus to levitate each individual piece was part of what she was trying to do, her real goal lay in the small blue kyber crystal that hovered in front of her face. Pure. Light. Uncorrupted by the Dark Side, despite her trials and tribulations.
"Peace is a lie, there is only passion..." Maerae muttered to herself.
She thought of all the times her instructors had dealt her punishments. The fear she'd felt. The anger. She hated most of their faces more than she'd ever hated anything before in her life. The rage that boiled in her veins was the most intense of her emotions. She tried to project that; tried to press those dark feelings into the blue crystal in front of her.
But nothing. As always, it remained a beautiful blue.
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