Tomes...Tomes of what? Tomes of Evolution...Tomes of Progress...Tomes of Survival...Tomes of Godhood...
Young Shadow, prepare yourself for your rebirth. For you have died and are now awaiting Salvation.
Raksis growled and ripped at his mind...His mind...Thrashing and tearing...his mind. He understood it now...He knew it better than anyone, with his mind he was weak but strong. It had an explanation and the...explanation had a method.
Flesh and mind are but cages—become unbound, or remain ever unworthy.
This flesh—my flesh—is weak, old.
Handed down by priors unworthy of evolution.
Had those before been more than common, my flesh would not be this flesh—their flesh—but other, new.
New is never given, but claimed.
To claim evolution one must be unmade.
Free of cages—flesh and mind.
Unmade=Evolution=Transcendency=Salvation
An equation that made Raksis alone. Deep in the black of thought and stuff of mind. He was half of what he was. He was evolving. Churning the butter until it creamed...Stabbing the farmer with a spoon made into a knife...Eating. Feeding. Feasting...
He needed to understand it. He needed to be free of his forsaken flesh. Vahn Berand...had assisted but trapped his mind. He would pay for putting a halt to his Vision. To his Purge. To his Evolution.
The mind is complacent, the flesh has made it so.
Possibility limited by stunted imagination, stunted through familiarity.
This comfortable life is no life, fleeting, made to decay.
Those born only to live to be replaced cannot see eternity, nor are they welcome here.
The unwelcome are the unworthy, the unworthy are a disease.
Cleanse thyself of your decay, then will the mind be free to understand the value of transgression.
It is sin to carve upon the flesh, but by whose law is your prison made hallow?
The Dark Side of the Force did not make you a Sith. Bleeding every inch of your kyber crystal did not make you a Sith. You made You a Sith. Unmaking yourself to find that your purpose and self is the Dark Side and nothing else. So many didn't understand that the will of the Dark Side was the will of the Sith. So many claimed the title of "Sith" and brought shame to the Brother and his Shroud. Raksis would start with them first. Once he was cured of his diseased madness that kept him trapped in his prison of a body.
Before one can be freed, one must question the truth of their purest identity.
And so a question is begged: Who resides at the core of your being?
Only honest reflection will see you—lone traveler—through the coming storm.
Look, then, clearly upon the whole of your existence, and face your glory—strength of will, every flaw of your mortal heart and fabled soul.
Through the pieces of a life lived divine your truth, but do not lie—to the world, if one must, but never to yourself.
To see yourself as anything but what you truly are will lead you down sorrow's road, unprepared for the consequence of your salvation.
Once an understanding is met, and the self is purified in the knowledge of its truth, the cage is set to be unbound.
Raksis knew what he was. He was not the Dark Side. He was not a Sith. He was no follower of the Dead Brother. He was sick with Light. He longed for the Dark. He would kill for the Dark. For acceptance into the Dark Side. To bring Vahn Berand down in Lightning and Thunder. To become a true Disciple of the Legacy of Darth Bane. He would fight and claw and kick and bite until he achieved his end goal; Bringing Honor back to the Title of Sith.
He was a broken Shadow, fearing of the Light because he wasn't Darkness.
He was broken.
He would be fixed.
He was Revenge.
He was Hate.
He was Wrath.
He was Death.
The Fourth Horseman of the Apocalypse.
Raksis Hiraaks.
Raksis Hiraaks.
Raksis Hiraaks.
Raksis Hiraaks.
RAKSIS HIRAAKS.
...Searching for Unmaking...
Young Shadow, prepare yourself for your rebirth. For you have died and are now awaiting Salvation.
Raksis growled and ripped at his mind...His mind...Thrashing and tearing...his mind. He understood it now...He knew it better than anyone, with his mind he was weak but strong. It had an explanation and the...explanation had a method.
Flesh and mind are but cages—become unbound, or remain ever unworthy.
This flesh—my flesh—is weak, old.
Handed down by priors unworthy of evolution.
Had those before been more than common, my flesh would not be this flesh—their flesh—but other, new.
New is never given, but claimed.
To claim evolution one must be unmade.
Free of cages—flesh and mind.
Unmade=Evolution=Transcendency=Salvation
An equation that made Raksis alone. Deep in the black of thought and stuff of mind. He was half of what he was. He was evolving. Churning the butter until it creamed...Stabbing the farmer with a spoon made into a knife...Eating. Feeding. Feasting...
He needed to understand it. He needed to be free of his forsaken flesh. Vahn Berand...had assisted but trapped his mind. He would pay for putting a halt to his Vision. To his Purge. To his Evolution.
The mind is complacent, the flesh has made it so.
Possibility limited by stunted imagination, stunted through familiarity.
This comfortable life is no life, fleeting, made to decay.
Those born only to live to be replaced cannot see eternity, nor are they welcome here.
The unwelcome are the unworthy, the unworthy are a disease.
Cleanse thyself of your decay, then will the mind be free to understand the value of transgression.
It is sin to carve upon the flesh, but by whose law is your prison made hallow?
The Dark Side of the Force did not make you a Sith. Bleeding every inch of your kyber crystal did not make you a Sith. You made You a Sith. Unmaking yourself to find that your purpose and self is the Dark Side and nothing else. So many didn't understand that the will of the Dark Side was the will of the Sith. So many claimed the title of "Sith" and brought shame to the Brother and his Shroud. Raksis would start with them first. Once he was cured of his diseased madness that kept him trapped in his prison of a body.
Before one can be freed, one must question the truth of their purest identity.
And so a question is begged: Who resides at the core of your being?
Only honest reflection will see you—lone traveler—through the coming storm.
Look, then, clearly upon the whole of your existence, and face your glory—strength of will, every flaw of your mortal heart and fabled soul.
Through the pieces of a life lived divine your truth, but do not lie—to the world, if one must, but never to yourself.
To see yourself as anything but what you truly are will lead you down sorrow's road, unprepared for the consequence of your salvation.
Once an understanding is met, and the self is purified in the knowledge of its truth, the cage is set to be unbound.
Raksis knew what he was. He was not the Dark Side. He was not a Sith. He was no follower of the Dead Brother. He was sick with Light. He longed for the Dark. He would kill for the Dark. For acceptance into the Dark Side. To bring Vahn Berand down in Lightning and Thunder. To become a true Disciple of the Legacy of Darth Bane. He would fight and claw and kick and bite until he achieved his end goal; Bringing Honor back to the Title of Sith.
He was a broken Shadow, fearing of the Light because he wasn't Darkness.
He was broken.
He would be fixed.
He was Revenge.
He was Hate.
He was Wrath.
He was Death.
The Fourth Horseman of the Apocalypse.
Raksis Hiraaks.
Raksis Hiraaks.
Raksis Hiraaks.
Raksis Hiraaks.
RAKSIS HIRAAKS.
...Searching for Unmaking...