Seeing Without Sight (Ninde Nelhyvel's Training)

Lavi

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The dark corridors echo as boots clomp slowly on the polished floors of the academy. A lone figure, dressed in dark crimson robes made of silk, and a hood lined with gold-trim covering her blank eyes. She pulls on her black gloves, tightening their grip upon her hands. The acolyte stops as she approaches the heavy stone doors of one of the many chambers of the academy. “Ninde Nelhyvel, desiring admittance.”

Her voice, although the sound is beautiful, has a dark ring to it – courtesy of years of involuntary servitude to a Hutt. An experience that she would never allow again, especially with the power of the Sith.
 

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Ren looked up from the workbench, her new puppet taking shape upon it. She pulled up a cover, and placed it over the humanoid form. She faced the door, her other two puppets beside her, and called. ''Enter!'' She pulled the doors open with the force.
 

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After the stone doors open, Ninde strided in, her face showing no emotion. She stopped just beyond the doors, which closed with a loud thud behind her. "I am here."

Although the words sounded as though whispered, the three words echo throughout the room, amplifying its volume, so that it is clearly heard. Another rises from the darkness that is the Sith - Ninde Nelhyvel, a miraluka.
 

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A miraluka. Very odd. Ren looked at her, dressed in crimson robes, a contrast to Ren's Black leather and silk corset dress with fur trim. She nodded in acknowledgement. ''State the Sith code, and your interpretation of it.'' She ordered.
 

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The Code of the Sith - the first that Ninde looked over after her admittance to the Sith academy.

"Peace is a lie, there is only passion.​
Through passion, I gain strength.
Through strength, I gain power.
Through power, I gain victory.
Through victory, my chains are broken.
The Force shall free me. "


"Passion is the true reason why the states of the universe, whether peace or war, are as it is. Passion leads to strength as one desires to achieve their goals. Through strength, I gain power, the power to come within grasp of my passion. With such power, I can achieve what I want, and without limits. Commanding the Force is the key to it all."
 
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''Excellent. Do you know any force powers?'' She asked, the candelabra above stuttering slightly, casting shadows on the cages, but not hiding the moans of the occupants
 

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“I can see through the Force,” replied Ninde, crossing her arms with some impatience. “I can see the colors of the clothes you are wearing, the things you keep above, and the puppets you have at the bench.”
 

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''That is obvious.'' Ren replied curtly, throwing her into a wall. ''I meant powers other than those you were born with.'' She crossed her arms.
 

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"No other," Ninde replied, dusting off her silky robes.

Her words did not quiver at all - being a slave allowed her to learn to hide her weaknesses in the face of her master. Of course, she is practically in a new universe - her past experience does not train her to endure the Force's power.
 

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''That is all i needed to know.'' Ren replied. ''You can feel the dark side of the force flow through you, yes? Focus it onto that crate, and lift it.'' SHe pointed to the iron banded crate beside the wall.
 

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Ninde has not tried using the Force before, but looking at texts at the academy's library gave her the basic idea.

She lifts a hand towards the crate, and began concentrating on it. The air seemed to hum, with dark feeling, as she taps into the Force. Turning her palm towards the ceiling, Ninde lifted her outstretched arm. The crate shudders as the inexperienced acolyte attempts to manipulate it. Frustration slowly grew as the seconds ticked.
 

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''Use your anger! Use passion, anger, hatred and fear to fuel the dark side!'' Ren ordered, watching the girl struggle with the crate.
 

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Ninde did as she was told, drawing strength from her frustration that the crate is not replying to her demands, anger that she is not achieving what she desires, fear that she will not become what she desires, and hatred from such feeble fear.

A few more seconds ticked, and the crate responded to the acolyte's demands, slowly rising off the ground.
 

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''Good. Now. Try to break the crate, by smashing it against the wall.'' Ren ordered, teaching the most simple, yet flexible force attack.
 

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Obeying the command of her master, Ninde swung her arm to the side, the crate hitting the wall with great force. However, only the slightest of dents was left from the strike.
 

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''Break it! dents won't do!'' THis was another of Ren's exercises. The bands were toughened durasteel. Incredibly difficult to break. The acolyte would get more frustrated, and thus able to use more of their potential, and thus make more damage, yet not smash it, forming a cycle.
 

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Biting her lip, Ninde tried again, throwing everything she has into the strike. Only another dent appeared in the crate. Either she is weak, or the crate is strong. Hopefully it is the latter. Again, the miraluka throws the crate against the wall, over and over again, using her frustration as fuel. Soon, dents became small cracks. The small cracks widen as the crate was continuously thrown against the wall.
 

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''Stop.'' Ren stated, plucking the crate from her grasp. ''Now, pull it to you.'' she ordered. She'ed start simple, and work up.
 

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"Yes, master," answered Ninde.

With both hands raised, the acolyte began tugging on the crate. The object in question inches its way towards Ninde.
 

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Ren watched it inch towards the girl. A good start. She waited until she got frustrated again.
 
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