Where Flowers Bloom, So Does Hope (CLOSED)

[Sreeya]

OoC: This is a Main Thread because it'll be an IC confrontation of the Grand Master and the Dark Lord of the Sith. This is a key story line. This rp is also closed to Xeno, Bac and I.


Andraste closed her eyes, simply listening. The wind was salty, carrying the essence of the oceans all around her. The Force was immensely strong all around her, and it wasn't merely coming from the child in her arms. It was a baby, bundled up and asleep. Andraste glanced down at the child, the eyes closed and the breathing soft and gentle. Nothing about the child suggested that it wasn't human. However, she knew as soon as the baby opened her eyes, they would be crimson red, the eerie glow a permanent trademark of her father, who was the Dark Lord of the Sith. Nothing else outwardly suggested that there was any link between the two, save for the almost tangible Force energy emanating from such a small child.

Andraste suppressed thoughts of her time during pregnancy and the birth. The ordeal had only taken her about four months, the process sped up by the Force. She had grown quite attached to her daughter, falling in love with the way the baby smiled and giggled, completely unaffected by the darkness of her origins. A painful knot formed within Andraste's chest at the thought of parting with her daughter, but she knew there was no other way. She exhaled slowly, the wind brushing against her long, dark hair. Andraste gazed up at the large, archaic building before her. She had remained close to her ship, but there was something about the temple that called to her.

The energy was dark, but it wasn't tainted. Andraste knew her daughter would be unaffected by it. She couldn't understand the Force energy of the child, as it had hints of both dark and light, at the same time she was affected by neither. Andraste looked down as the child shifted in her arms, opening her eyes and blinking curiously. Rays of the sun reflected off the crimson irises. Andraste smiled at her, moving her up to kiss her on the forehead.

"Your eyes remind me of red flowers. My favorites. Did you know that?"

 

[Brandon Rhea]

The breeze caught the cloth of the Grand Master’s hood, nearly throwing it off his head as Jhon clenched his cloak, walking against the strengthening winds from the graying sky. Lehon was a world he’d heard of in myth and legend. The world of the Rakatans, of the Temple of the Ancients...of the Star Forge. Even now, as he stepped away from his ship, walking up the sandy path from the beach, he could see the relics of the ancient days when armies of Jedi and Sith clashed on the battlefield. Some things never changed.

Memories of battles thousands of years passed littered the beach, being consumed by the crashing waves and incoming tides. Pieces of Star Destroyers marked with the blazing emblems of the ancient Sith stuck out of the cliffs. A hammerhead starship bearing the insignia of the Old Republic rested gently, slumbering, in the sands. Lehon was a nearly-forgotten world, and the memories of its role in the galaxy were fading, but its legacy lived on, perhaps stronger now than ever before.

The Grand Master made his way from the beach, away from the ancient ruins of the Rakatan settlements. The Force here was calm, neutral, undecided. Once, it was awash in the powers of the light, only to be consumed by the darkness that befell the ancient Rakatans and ultimately the Sith. Now, untouched for millennia, it waited for the balance to tip. Its destiny had not yet been chosen.

Rounding a final corner, Jhon reached the Temple of the Ancients. It was decaying, as all ancient temples would, but it wasn’t collapsed yet. Corridors within it likely still remained, and a great breezeway leading to the Star Forge controls was still intact.

He shivered as he reached the plateau, on higher ground than he had been before. His surroundings were an open expanse, and the winds blew more intensely here. Darker clouds rolled in, flying across the landscape with the speed of the wind. A storm was coming.

Before him stood Andraste, her back turned to him, as she looked towards the temple grounds. She never told him why she’d urged him to meet her here, hidden away from the Jedi and the Sith, but he hadn’t seen her in months, not since she was on Empress Teta after the bombing on Coruscant. What he’d sensed then, what he felt inside of her... The timing was right, if the Force was taken into account.

He said nothing at first, keeping his presence hidden. His eyes closed ever so slightly, feeling the currents of the Force flowing into him. They played out in his mind, and he caught glimpses of her over the last few months; fearful, conflicted, yet bringing forth something good into this life. A new light. Her child.

The love he felt within her was like nothing he’d ever sensed within her before. Jhon always knew she was a good person, even if she was conflicted and even if she fell prey to the darkness. She could never truly be an evil person. The Sith did not represent who she truly was. This, though, was something else. The life that bloomed from her was a turning point, a light in the darkness of her soul that even the flowers of her youth dared not rival.

As she kissed her baby on the forehead, the Grand Master said, “I told you. Love is the answer is to the darkness.”

 

[Sreeya]

Andraste slowly turned to face Jhon. For a moment, she was surprised he appeared unfazed by the sight of her holding a child. Her confusion was obvious upon her features, her thoughts dwelling on how he could have possibly known. Then she remembered who this was. Her Master had always known her, had been able to read her like a book, found light in the darkest corners of her psyche and had been able to see the humanity in her when she herself could not. Andraste couldn't hold back the smile that tugged at the corner of her lips.

"It is baffling..that a creature so small can invoke such powerful emotions within me. This baby cannot talk, cannot convey much, cannot do much, yet..yet I would give my life for her. Suddenly..suddenly everything else is so diminutive. Everything else matters so little. I gaze upon her and I see hope. I see strength, and most of all I see the detachment from a set path that is to be forced upon her."

She stared at the baby as she spoke, looking into the red eyes that gazed back her. The eyes of Exodeus, but lacking the hatred and emptiness his often held. Despite that, it was already clear her eyes were identical to his. Andraste ran a finger along the gentle face, the baby reaching up to grasp her finger. Andraste couldn't help but chuckle softly at the action, her eyes welling up with tears. She bit her lip, quelling the urge to shed tears. Andraste finally gazed up at Jhon.

"I must ask too much of you, Master. There is no one else I can turn to, no one else I can trust. This child is more precious to me than anything in this galaxy...and there is only one man I would ever trust with such a treasure. And that is you, Master. You have told me many times that destiny and fate do not have to be set in stone. There is choice. Whether by choice or not, I have succumbed. I have fallen. I am forever bound to the Emperor. I am forever immersed within the Dark Side of the Force. The monster within me has cursed me. But.."

She looked down at the baby again.

"This child does not have that curse. This child has the blood of the Dark Lord of the Sith in her veins, yet she is not a slave to it. She is powerful, as a testament to her origins. Yet she is already above falling to any one side of the Force. I want her to be raised not simply as a Jedi, but as a child that will learn of choice. A child that will learn to rise to her own calling, one that she chooses for herself. I want for her to grow to become a woman that is the master of her own destiny, without destiny governing her and ruling her. I want her to know the threats of darkness, the power of love, the light..I want her to..."

Andraste sighed.

"I want her to succeed in the ways I have failed you, Master. I wish for you to raise her. I'm not only asking..but I'm begging you to take her away from the monster that I have become. The monster that her father is. I love her father, and she was born from a union of love. Perhaps that is what keeps her from being born tainted with darkness. This must be nurtured, and this must be allowed to exist. She is on the brink now, and it will be far too late if she stays with me."

Andraste moved closer to him, angling the baby so he could look upon her.

"I do not want her to know who her parents are till the time is right. A time will come when she will be ready to know. I want her to make the final choice. And I know..I know with your guidance that she will make the right choice. The choice that will make her happy. The choice that does not govern her. Can...can I ask this of you, Master?"

It was then that the first drops of rain began to fall. Andraste ignored it for now, glad for the rain to cover up the tears that threatened to fall. The clouds rumbled above, adding to the atmosphere that would grow tumultuous.

 

[Brandon Rhea]

It wasn’t baffling at all that the child could bring forward such emotions within Andraste. On Empress Teta, years earlier and just months earlier, he’d told her of the goodness inside of her, the love and warmth that existed within all beings, no matter how faint a spark they may have been. A baby, so innocent and pure, didn’t create new emotions. An inherently evil, mindless monster could never know love, for such an emotion wouldn’t have existed. A child stirred that which was already within a person. The Grand Master suspected his old apprentice knew that, even if it was deep down.

Then came the question, a question that he wasn’t prepared for. One he’d never be prepared for, really. The child rested against her mother, sleeping softly, peacefully, but even from a short distance, without having held her, without having looked into her eyes, Jhon knew exactly what the girl would face. She was born of light and darkness, of a fallen Jedi and her Sith Emperor. The girl was light, and she was darkness. Like Lehon itself, she was both yet neither. She was the balance of the Force.

The girl could have a life free of the corruption of the dark side, at least to an extent. With Jhon, knowing the Way, darkness could be avoided, if the girl could make the choice when she was ready. She could be her father, a corrupted soul, lost in the thick fog covering the dark landscape from which he came. She could be her mother, good yet also lost. Or she could be something else. She could be, as Andraste wanted, the master of her destiny. All beings had the potential to master destiny—it was not the same thing as fate—but few ever realized it.

The ways I have failed you... Those words struck his heart, for they were not true in any sense. He couldn’t think of the words to say right now; the idea of raising a child overwhelmed him, confused him, even frightened him. Yet, he knew that she wasn’t a failure. The fact that she was here, now, saying these things and asking these questions, proved that in so many ways.

Thunder clapped in the near distance as he stepped closer, looking down at the child in her mother’s arms. The Grand Master couldn’t do anything other than smile. It was life at its most pure, its most innocent, free from the shackles of society and the sentient way of life. He could only think to ask one thing right now.

“Her name,” he said softly. “What’s her name?”

 

[Demiurge]

The echo of thunder boomed in the distance, an ominous foreboding of a coming storm. From afar, resonances of light flashed through the dark clouds as lightning cackled in the heavens, and stiff winds coursed round about the island like an intangible hand grasping the treetops in its clutches. Such was the way of Lehon, a graveyard world of history. Even as its own flora had overturned what was once laid bare, the scars etched into it breathed of the Force, between darkness and light.

Even as the star of Abo became obscured in the coming tempest, shadows swept over the land. And there, at the Temple of the Ancients, the darkness grew, descending from above as if it were the scion of the storm. Like a thickening shadow, the stone-built walkway into the ancient structure became shaded as a thick gloom began seeping out, like a living entity. The mist of darkness in front of the temple doors grew until it became as a haze, spreading out like a taint. Suddenly then, the darkness began to move forward, absenting the natural light with shadows.

The dark gloom rumbled like the thunders of a dormant storm, bridling itself from unleashing, as it began to approach the two, Andraste and Jhon, steadily stopping behind the former. And yet, it neared unnoticed, it's very presence suppressed by the Dark Side of the Force, shrouded from their minds as it itself was shrouding the light. The darkness began to emanate out, settling round about almost akin to a smoke, until finally, a light did prevail.

Two beacons of light pierced through the black gloom, red as crimson fire, and bright as burning stars. And as their intensity manifested, it pierced even through the void it cast over the two before it, even as its presence and dark image remained buried. And through its shroud, the deviant red glare ignored the woman before it as it looked onward, piercing into the eyes of the other ahead of it. The one the woman, Andraste, had called... Master.

 

[Sreeya]

Andraste felt the mist from the rain that had begun, the wind carrying the scent of the ocean to her. The waves crashed against the cliffs, spurred on by the storm above. The baby in her arms was distressed by the raging storm and the sounds of thunder. Andraste looked down as she was on the verge of tears, though she had yet to make a sound. The Sith looked up as Jhon's question lingered within her thoughts. Andraste couldn't help but stare down at the child in wonder.

"I... I haven't named her. I do not want to leave any permanent evidence on her that is a part of me..or any remnant of me. I feel as if that's a stain on something so pure.."

It pained her to say the words. Inwardly she found small satisfaction in knowing that her blood ran within the child at the very least. It tore her heart out knowing she would grow up never knowing her mother. She would grow up internally believing her mother had abandoned her, did not want her. Andraste hugged the child close to her chest, committing the tender feeling, the scent of her baby, the gentle cooing, all of it to memory. It would be something she would forever remember, forever hold onto. Andraste finally looked up at Jhon again, and it was difficult to tell if she was crying.

"Master..when you take this child..if we meet again..I may have fallen too far. I may become the monster. For that..I ask for your forgiveness today. My humanity resides within my daughter. And I give her to you."

Andraste bit her lip. She knew she couldn't suppress the beast for much longer. It had been growing stronger as she aged and as she embraced the Force. It would consume her. It would mold her into the woman she was born to be. The monster, the machine, the chaotic abomination Exodeus had wanted to craft since the day he had found her.

"I..I may ask periodically if she is faring well. I will-"

She froze suddenly in place. The storm began to soak her, but suddenly she didn't notice it. She didn't notice the planet, didn't notice Jhon, didn't notice her baby right at that instant. It was a sick feeling, and one that began at the pit of her stomach and expanded out to the rest of her body. It was a familiar feeling. Disturbingly familiar. It was like a smell that invoked a memory. It wasn't through the Force. It was something more natural, something that existed within her. It tugged at her heart, and it completely gripped her. She did not understand it first, but then it hit her.

Pure, unadulterated fear...

Andraste's eyes widened. She clutched the baby fiercely to her chest, looking at Jhon.

"I feel him! The Dark Lord! He is near! He has found me! Master, please, you must leave now. I will contact you once again, but you cannot stay here. Please, I beg you, leave this place now! I will talk my way out, but you cannot be seen. Please, Master!"

 

[Brandon Rhea]

One shiver slowly crawled down his spine, crawling across every bone, every muscle, every fiber in his body. The storm was picking up, dropping rain across his face, drenching his robes with the weight of the skies. The sky trembled, as did the ground. This was more than a storm.

The Grand Master watched as the baby girl flinched from the rain. Her eyes caught his gaze, the red irises captivating him, with an almost unhuman quality. They were a scar, a reminder of where she had come from, one she would carry with her. One she could use to remind her of the price of darkness.

But she wasn’t the darkness he felt now.

His eyes slowly raised, leaving her gaze and looking out beyond Andraste. She was terrified, horrified at the thought of her daughter falling into the hands of the Dark Lord. Jhon nearly grabbed the girl now to run for his ship, but that wasn’t an open road right now.

He whispered only, “It’s too late...”

Behind Andraste, where not even she could tell he was so close, stood the Emperor. His pale, decaying skin, and his bright red eyes said exactly who he was: Darth Exodeus, Dark Lord of the Sith, Emperor of the New Sith Imperium. The girl’s father. Hers was a face of innocence, and his was the face of corruption and decay. But their eyes were one and the same. Jhon had never met the Dark Lord before, had never seen his face up close or from afar, but the eyes were the eyes of a killer. The eyes of a terror upon this galaxy.

And yet Jhon was where he belonged.

In the last year, he had been Sage Master, he had been the Chief of State of the Galactic Alliance, and he had become the Grand Master of the New Jedi Order. He was an administrator, a politician, and a leader. He was everything he didn’t intend to be. His destiny was that of a philosopher, a teacher, one that he could act on as Sage Master, but he’d become something much more, in roles he was never meant to understand.

He always understood the shadows, the darkness, the corruption of the soul. He’d been there, on the precipice, walking the line between good and evil. He knew what kept a soul in the comforts of the light, but he knew what pushed them into the pit of hellfire that could consume their very being. Jedi for millennia asked “Why do we fall?” and Jhon knew the answer to the question.

So he understood this man, this Dark Lord. He understood that he was corrupted, nearly evil incarnate, but with a faint spark of hope somewhere deep within him. It was the goodness of sentient nature. It was that which was nearly destroyed in the twisting of the soul, but that which can never really die.

The Emperor was nothing special. He was flawed, weak, pitiful. Darkness was weakness incarnate. It may have always arisen, but there was always a new dawn. One spark of light could hold the darkness back. That’s why Andraste was an influence on the Emperor. It’s why, Jhon could only imagine, Exodeus was here now. He would want the child. If he could not turn it, he would kill it. To a Sith Lord, good either had to be destroyed or subjugated.

Not today.

Jhon reached his arm out. The Force called his lightsaber from his belt and flung it like a tether into the palm of his hand. He grabbed the hilt, clenching it tight, as the sapphire hue burst to life. The rain hissed and evaporated as it hit the laser blade, its noise ambient in the background of their tense silence.

Jhon nodded, a sign of respect not for actions but for the power of the Force, light or dark, and said, "It's a man's own mind, not friend or foe or anything else, that lures him onto the dark path. How truly terrifying your mind must be right now."

 

[Demiurge]

Exodeus never heard the pleas from Andraste regarding him. It never trespassed his ears. Even as the rain fell over them, he could see only the eyes of the Jedi, dyed in the color of sapphire. As the dark shroud dispelled, the ominous presence obscuring him through the Force, Exodeus hand stretched out toward Andraste, grasping the back of her head in his palm.

Torrents of dark Force energy flooded into her psyche as Exodeus ravaged into the deepest part of her mind. He felt her senses, her awareness as if it were his own as he seeped it away like a vampiric entity, suppressing her consciousness until the light and motion became as a halted dream, trapped in a singular moment as her mind was bridled into a near catatomic state.

"I do not know your meaning of terror, Jedi..."

His eyes widened slightly as his pupils contracted. Jhon was all he saw. For that one moment in time, there was nothing else. He had no other desire other than to see the Jedi fall. No other meaning to life, to breath, other than to see himself take that away from his enemy. It was his one purpose now, the retaking of the executioner's role.

It was his dogma, the judgment in his heart manifest by his own embraced hatred and darkness. But above and beyond that, it was truth. The one truth that has stood again all opposition, from time to the test of heresies. It was in every fiber of his being, that this harbinger of weakness and hypocrisy be scourged and done away with. Him, and all Jedi with him.

"But you will know mine."

The wind currents howled as they coursed through the air, carrying the scent of the salty remnants of ocean water from the shores. Meanwhile, Exodeus used the Force to telekinetically draw his lightsaber hilt to his hand, while he simultainously brought his opened palm around his waist toward his hilt. Grasping it in his hand, Exodeus brought his hand up over his head, and then suddenly lashed his arm downwards, while igniting the scarlet blade in the process.

Though he stood with his lightsaber in hand, Exodeus remained unchanged in his position as the rain created a hazed mist over the deep red blade, lightly disrupting the harmonic ambience of the weapon's humming energy field. As he glared at Jhon, Exodeus tore away the flesh and bone, the lightsaber and saw only the Force, the Light - everything he stood against and swore to rid from the galaxy.

For countless generations over and upon generations, Jedi had sworn and dedicated themselves to maintaining order in the galaxy, yet at every turn, and despite every chance given them, they failed. From their blinded devotion to the light which weakens them to do what is nescessary, to their misguided philosophies, which breed only contempt and lies intertwined with hypocrisy, dooming its followers to ignorance and arrogance. The light was just that, a blinding force. Blinding all who follow it to even the basic instincts that even beasts could comprehend.

And Jhon was that. He embodied it, symbolized it. In his essence, in his ways, everything that he was represented what filled Exodeus with disdain and disgust. He could see it in his eyes, he could see it through the Force, through the emenation of Jhon's power and connection to it. It was that same light, that same force, like blind devotion incarnate to sentient shape and form. And it revolted him.

"Raise your blade... and die by it."

At that, Exodeus brought his lightsaber blade to a high position, over his head. And with the Force called to him, the Dark Lord of the Sith propelled himself by hastening his movements through the Force, single-mindedly downing his blade toward Jhon.

 

[Brandon Rhea]

The Dark Lord flew through the air, just above the ground, carrying all the rage and hatred of the Sith in one swift attack, but such was the folly of a Sith Lord. The Emperor struck out with more than just emotion, he struck out with the weakness of a tangible weapon, something that could be taken, destroyed, bested. Jhon had his lightsaber activated, to be sure, but it was not yet time for him to use it. When the dark one grew close, Jhon turned to his true ally.

With the Emperor growing closer, Jhon’s free hand grabbed hold of the air around him—a curious, impossible thing for someone not aware of the powers around them. He felt a surge of life, channeling the Force into him, collecting all the elements and the fabric of space and time from the universe into the palm of his hand. It grew stronger, more pointed, more elegant and beautiful. It was the true power; not a lightsaber, not a blaster, but the only weapon a Jedi ever needed.

The Grand Master thrust his hand forward, slamming a wall of energy towards the Dark Lord. Earth and rock shot up from the soil beneath the invisible bolt of energy as it flew, shaking the ground beneath him as the shockwave made its way towards the Emperor to send him crashing backward towards the temple walls.

Before even waiting to see if the Force hit his mark—he need not question the precision with which he wielded it—Jhon turned to Andraste, frozen in place from the stasis she and her child found themselves bound within. In the blink of an eye, the Jedi Master kicked the air behind him and propelled himself, with the stasis-bound Andraste in his arms, into her ship, keeping her and the child out of the rain and harm’s way.

Only the Emperor would fall this day.

 

[Demiurge]

The concussive impulse of intangible power struck the Dark Lord. It was not as if it were a strike to a single part of him, but as if it were an enveloping force, overtaking the vicinity and space around his body as it hurled him away. Exodeus' teeth grinded down as he rapidly approached the outermost wall of the Temple of the Ancients.

And at the moment of impact, the outer wall of the temple shattered as the Dark Lord was hurled away, into the absolute darkness of the inner chambers of the temple. As the collision brought down portions of the wall within the temple, the Dark Lord's fist struck out, through the debris which had buried him, simultaneously sending a psychokinetic shockwave around him, expelling the fragments to stone and rock from around him.

The Dark Lord rose from the settling dust, standing upright even as several trickles of blood dripped from his forehead. He could feel his own blood boiling beneath the skin, dulling any pain in his body. His lightsaber remained active in his opposite hand, but as Exodeus stared into the darkness around him, he abandoned his perception of the physical universe, seeing beyond stone and gravel, into the Force itself.

At that, Exodeus deactivated his lightsaber, creating a perfect darkness. A Jedi was a Jedi, no matter his strength or dogma. Relentless, persistent. He would come for him. All the Dark Lord had to do was wait... wait for life, wait for death, wait for battle. Hiding his presence in the Force once again until the time was right, Exodeus became one with the darkness. And the Jedi would come for him. It was now inevitable. Now, it was destiny.

 

[Brandon Rhea]

Out of the ship and back into the storm, Jhon peered up at the hole that the Emperor had made when he crashed through the side of the temple. Once, the Temple of the Ancients was an impenetrable fortress, home to the secrets of the ancient Star Forge and the pride of the Infinite Empire. Now, after being traversed by Revan, Malak, and even Bane, and after dozens of millennia of decay, it was nothing but a shadow of its former self, so easily broken by a Force attack.

A surge of energy shot through his veins and he surged into the air, landing in the opening of the hole. Dust rained down from the ceiling, blocking out most of the sight of the storm outside. Rain pounded down overhead, and a bolt of lightning jolted the room as it hit the top of the temple.

Jhon’s eyes pierced through the darkness of the room, and he slowly closed them, reaching out with his other senses. He had seen darkness before, up close, within his own heart, his own reflection in the mirror. Overcoming it let him see through it and past it, letting him find exactly what he was looking for.

“You command the Force well,” he said. His eyes flashed open, finding the Dark Lord's presence, and sending another burst of energy out of his hands towards him, as he said, “but only as well as a child can.”

 

[Demiurge]

As Jhon entered into the Temple of the Ancients, Exodeus watched his every move, his every gesture his every footstep. From his actions at the beginning until now, he displayed all the hallmarks of the Jedi devoted to the sage arts. And it was no sooner than him drawing near did Exodeus feel his presence leeching out of him, searching, seeking.

And in mere moments, he felt his presence envelop over him. At the ready, the Dark Lord felt the Force become vibrant in the Jedi as he prepared to strike out against him. And with that, Exodeus dropped his shroud, and allowed the Dark Side control of his body. As the telekinetic burst surged toward him, Exodeus drained and absorbed the Force energy, rechanneling it to achieve a possession of the Force beyond his own.

Remaining steadfast and ummovable in the face of the metaphysical force before him, the Dark Lord combined the power behind the Grand Master's attack with his own strength in the Force. Having raised his arm forward and tightened his hand into a clinched fist, Exodeus' telekinetic grasp hastened toward Jhon, and as untouchable hands at his throat, grasped at the Jedi's neck and hurled him upwards to collide into the ceiling, then slamming him back down, forcing him onto his knees while inverting his telekinesis onto his body, like a great compression.

"Then you bow before this child."

At that, Exodeus lifted the Grand Master again, and flinging his arm about, hurled Jhon through one of the temple's inner walls.

 

[Brandon Rhea]

Rock and dust fell on him as he crashed through the sanctum’s inner walls, moving room by room to the outer areas of the temple. Back into the rain, he collapsed down onto a breezeway overlooking the temple grounds, where the ship and the storm raging oceans beyond could be seen. He rolled towards an ancient computer console, his tumble stopping only when hitting it. This Dark Lord was more powerful than anyone Jhon had ever faced, and likely ever would.

Yet this display was an act of showing off, nothing more. Jhon had stung the Emperor, and now the dark warrior was throwing a temper tantrum. Forcing the Grand Master to kneel and flinging him from wall to wall, ceiling to floor, was nothing more than a sophisticated way of falling to the ground and slamming his hands and feet while crying for his mother to stop treating him oh so unfairly.

Jhon jumped to his feet, shaking off the impact, having used the Force to help absorb more of its damaging effects. His face was scarred and bruised, and he could feel pain in bone and muscle, but none of that would deter him from this singular objective, this defining moment.

“If you’re so eager to be rid of me,” the Grand Master called out, grinning, “and if you’re so powerful, why not kill me?”

He re-activated his lightsaber, standing at the ready. He was confident, but he knew that he’d met an equal, or at least a rival. He wouldn’t make it out of this easily. If I even make it out...

 

[Demiurge]

The wind swept in through the gaping holes made by Dark Lord and the Grand Master, allowing a furious storm to enter through. Rain cried into the wound of stone, and the illumination of the lightnings shined even down the dark corridor made. With his lightsaber in his hand, the Dark Lord approached the first hole, staring down at Jhon who continued his attempts at humor.

He was either a fool or an imbecile, and neither were anything less than befitting of him. Calling the Force to his command, Exodeus took several steps forward, walking through the first hole, and spoke simply;

"You're already dead, Jedi. Only Hell awaits you."

And then, in a blur of speed, the Dark Lord disappeared in a flux of motion, charging for the Jedi. A blueish streak trailed behind and alongside his body as he projected outward a cackling blast of Force Lightning. In but a moment after that, Exodeus stopped just barely a meter away the Grand Master, standing to the right of him as he made use of his Force endowed momentum and executed a sweeping one-handed jumg ma toward Jhon's torso. At that, Exodeus kept his momentum as he further twisted his body around and telekinetically reached out with the Force to deliver a simultaneous Force pull, trapping the Grand Master in a psychokinetic vacuum.

 

[Brandon Rhea]

The Dark Lord had Jhon caught, trapped in a vacuum of telekinetic energies and pure, unadulterated darkness. The Grand Master hung there, watching as the lightning burst towards him, with only fractions of a second between the attack and the inevitable hit. But the Emperor was overconfident. He hadn’t fully thought his ill-fated attack through.

Lightning crackled all around him, but none of it actually hit. Jhon was safe where he was, the vacuum’s crushing force not affecting him—as the Emperor likely, but foolishly, intended—but the lightning didn’t have the same luxury. The blue energies were sucked into its grasp, distorting them, before they blinked into nothingness, rendered completely meaningless by the ignorant attempt at capturing him.

As it did, Jhon built up energy within himself, and as the lightning disintegrated he let out a small, incomplete burst of the Force from his palms, pushing himself out of the vacuum. He moved faster than the eye could see, thrusting himself backwards so quickly that a ghostly visage of the Grand Master remained behind, still looking locked in the vacuum where Exodeus had trapped him.

But Jhon had already landed above his visage and the Dark Lord, on a ledge at the edge of the temple, looking down as his imprint was still face to face with the Emperor. Within mere seconds, Jhon released the rest of the Force energy he’d just accumulated within him, shooting it down towards Exodeus in a wave of energy that hit the walkway they had been standing upon. Stone and metal would burst out and inward from the ground beneath where Exodeus stood, collapsing the section of the walkway the Emperor had been standing on.

 

[Demiurge]

He was the same. The same as all Jedi. The same as all Force users that relied too relentlessly on their abilities in the Force. But as a Jedi, his actions were all the more predictable. Every action was a reaction, every attack a counterattack. As his blade passed through the after image, Exodeus' mind saw through the optical deception. There were only seconds of delay, but such time alloted made all the difference.

Taking an upright stance, Exodeus used the Force to fortify himself steadfast and immovable. Holstering his lightsaber, the Dark Lord rose both of his hands and created a deflective aura to deflect the attack back at its caster. The raw telekinetic energies pressed his feet into the stone ground, and the collision of the opposing forces began to rift the ground, causing an upheaval and levitation of chunks of stones and rock formations.

The Grand Master was arrogant, flaunting his concieted powers about like a fool with the worth of vermin. He was a sage, and his advantage lied in the abstract mysteries and uncanny abilities. But there were many ways to battle with such an adept, as Exodeus confronted his assault directly. In deflecting his own Force attack back at him, this was not a contest of knowledge of the arcane, but a contest of power. Will against will.

Exodeus' scarlet eyes burned like radiant torches as he allowed his wrath to amplify his focus, sharpening and honing him as the telekinetic wave ruptured and twisted backwards against the Grand Master. Sith power lied in the will... and no one's will was stronger than his.

 

[Brandon Rhea]

The Dark Lord was right. The power of the Sith lied in their will; their will to lie, cheat, steal, and murder for even a drop of power. Killing Jhon could let Exodeus feel like he’d proven something, like a bratty child feels when he kicks over someone else’s toys, but that wasn’t what he was really after. No, what the Emperor craved, what the Emperor would kill for, was power. The death of the Grand Master would affect the balance of power.

The Jedi Council had been troubled throughout this war. Beric Kanasur and Augustus Leonus, lost to some unholy path that they would likely never return from. Bacilla Kane, cast away by her peers. Daisuke Sonam Fuyu, Virzivil Axgar, and Nuju Leafskipper lost in the fires of the Sith. Lecchamemnon gone in shame. The Sith had latched their corrupt hands around the High Council, but never had they taken a Grand Master.

That was the Emperor’s prize. It was Jhon’s death that would change the balance of power, that would let the entire galaxy see the Dark Lord, the essence of darkness, triumphing over the fallen Grand Master, the essence of light. It was a metaphor that would darken the Jedi, demoralize the Alliance, and tell all the allies of the light that the armies of darkness would march on.

No other thought was in Jhon’s mind as the wave hit him like a Star Destroyer in the chest, sending him stumbling backwards, off the ledge and down the side of the temple. His body turned, his eyes watching as the ground approached, and he did his best to slow the fall with the Force, but he landed on his stomach with a thud. His eyes fluttered, closing, and his signature in the Force faded and then disappeared. His body lay there, but even as it did, as the rain poured over it, there was one thing on his bloodied face that Emperor wouldn’t have expected.

A smile.

For even when it looked like all was at an end, light would prevail.

 

[Demiurge]

As the telekinetic wave burst forth, a shrilling whoosh filled the air of the walkway, the Force generated pressure sucking the air from the vicinity like a vacuum. And as the Force attack met its mark, the telekinetic explosion vented forth, demolishing the four pillars arched over the summit.

The rubble fell down, with the dust muddies by the rain and overshadowed by the large chunks of debris by stone blocks, shattered sculptures of stone, and uprooted ground. The storm around them had begun to increase more and more. The wind turned the rain into an assault, and the clouds blocked the star of Rakata Prime until lightning was all that lit the way.

Even through the roaring tempest, Exodeus could see the Jedi fall, feel his vanishing presence as he himself began to vanish from physical sight. Levitating his body, the Dark Lord used transvection to move through the violent winds, descending slowly over the summit and down to the rain-soaked grounds below.

Exodeus' feet sank into the muddied grass, as he took several steps in approaching the Grand Master's seeming corpse as he stared down with indifference. Indifference for life, or for death, mingled with his omnipresent hate, and all consuming anger. His brow wrinkled as he'd looked upon the smug smile that the Jedi wore constantly. It was the same smile... the same as the other man. One born of darkness, but this one by light.

At that, Exodeus took out his lightsaber, activating it as the red glow illuminated as a beacon in the dark. His opponent was a Jedi, but a powerful one nonetheless. And in his eyes, just as his arm had raised and begun its descent, this enemy was deserving of the honor of any opponent deemed worthy in the custom of a Sith vanquishing their foe... beheading.

 

[Brandon Rhea]

With the Force, many things were possible. The manipulation of energy, the very fabric of the universe, even time. Time was a power even the greatest civilizations of the universe were unable to fully master, but, in the hands of the Force, one could move like a bullet, faster than the eye could see.

Jhon was very much alive. The massive amounts of Force it took to hide his signature in the great mystery was weakening him, but he wasn’t dead, nor was he past his prime in this battle. Not yet, at any rate.

His eyes, turned away from where the Emperor could see, shot open. Time stopped. Nothing was moving around him. The rain, the company, the oceans; none of it moved. A lesser man might think he was already dead, witnessing some afterlife-shock or his brain dying on him. Such a man wouldn’t expect to see anything but an infinite darkness, a black void where once there was light and life, but Jhon knew better. That void was already standing before him. That void, that he could see with an outstretched mind, was bringing his lightsaber down to bare, hoping for the killing blow.

Hardly.

The Grand Master shot forward, so fast he couldn’t help but wonder if the Emperor could even see him. His hands smacked the ground, pushing himself upward and off of it, turning in the air to move his flight towards the temple he had fallen from. Rain and wind wiped the blood and sweat from his face, and he kept twisting and turning towards the temple.

Still in the air, his hands wrapped an invisible grip from afar around the stones and columns that held the walkway they had been on in place. Stone began to crumble. Dust shot out from the cracks and crevices that were created by the might of the Force. Nearly a ton of stone flew out from the temple walls, causing most of the walkway to crumble, but they stopped, hovering in the air.

Jhon landed atop the ruins of the walkway; only seconds had gone by since he had been on the ground. The stones were under his control—size matters not—and with one throw, he thrust them down towards the Emperor. There were too many to evade completely, too heavy to cut through.

The Grand Master had shown himself as a true master of the Force. Now it was up to the Dark Lord to do the same.

 

[Demiurge]

Far too simple. The moment just before Jhon's body disappeared, the Force had endowed Exodeus with clairvoyance. Through the Force, the Dark Lord was in tune with every ripple and every resonance in and through the Force. At times, such powers allowed him to peer into the past, to see into the present, worlds or even systems away, and view events across the galaxy.

And even still, such power allowed him to perceive glimpses into the future, see what has not yet come to pass. They were flashes, mere fractions of a moment in passing, but it was all any true master of the Force would need. And the moment before his blade his the sands below, scorching the grains into steam and glass, the Dark Lord saw. Saw every movement, every gesture, every stirring of the Force.

The Grand Master began pulling the environment to him, calling it all from their resting places, where all the while, from the moment of his rising, Exodeus had been calling upon the Living Force, generating and consolidating his strength for a single burst of power. And with his lightsaber having been telekinetically mounted back onto his belt, the Dark Lord took a solid stand in the sand as he rose his arms outward, one ahead of him, toward the incoming stones and rock masses, and the other behind him.

The Force beaconed into him like a living torch as his very body became as a true lightning rod in the most central sense. The lightnings and thunders came to their zenith as the sky became as a frenzied dervish of light, as a single powerful bolt struck down on the Dark Lord. Using the full power of tutaminis, the Dark Lord instantly absorbed and redirected the force of nature into his own attack, unleashing a maelstrom of brilliant torrents of lightning, overreaching and overcoming the rain of stone as it obliterated them into either shattered fragments or mere dust.

The Dark Lord nevertheless continued his barrage. For even if the Grand Master had absorbed his blast as he had before, so long as it struck him, the force of his lightning would nonetheless repel him while he was without a foundation, hurling him back toward the beachside.