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30-04-2023, 12:10 AM
Entry #17 of Horuset Chronicles:
The Arkanian Apprentice
***A detailed recount with in-depth thought processes by Sovernus in his final trial to gain apprenticeship from Lord Sanguinis.***
Improvisation is the gleaming light in the shadows of thwarted plans.
An age-old wisdom purported to be spoken by another ancestor of mine, Lord Ozarus Nova “The Opportunist”.
An Arkanian of exceptional wit who’s venerable age did little to whittle down the vastness of his mind. In the aftermath of losses sustained by the Arkanian Dominion over neighbouring conflicts, the restructuring of our civilization came about an era of chaos.
Regimental thinkers and rational planners were drowned by the floods of unexpected obstacles one after the other. Nothing went accordingly to the proposed plan, and to avoid being labelled as the figures who was responsible for the largest loss of budgets and failed reconstruction- the officials ‘granted’ my ancestor the position. A scapegoat tactic if there was ever one.
Converting failures into successes, his astounding grasp on situations allowed him to navigate crises after crises through his resound resourcefulness.
History often speaks of his exceptional adaptability, able to conjure multitude of complex proposals and designs that would have required a dozen of brilliant strategists to create at a moment’s notice. He was a natural improviser who earned recognition from his quick wit. Often scoring proverbial victories over negotiations and civil banters alike.
An age-old wisdom purported to be spoken by another ancestor of mine, Lord Ozarus Nova “The Opportunist”.
An Arkanian of exceptional wit who’s venerable age did little to whittle down the vastness of his mind. In the aftermath of losses sustained by the Arkanian Dominion over neighbouring conflicts, the restructuring of our civilization came about an era of chaos.
Regimental thinkers and rational planners were drowned by the floods of unexpected obstacles one after the other. Nothing went accordingly to the proposed plan, and to avoid being labelled as the figures who was responsible for the largest loss of budgets and failed reconstruction- the officials ‘granted’ my ancestor the position. A scapegoat tactic if there was ever one.
Converting failures into successes, his astounding grasp on situations allowed him to navigate crises after crises through his resound resourcefulness.
History often speaks of his exceptional adaptability, able to conjure multitude of complex proposals and designs that would have required a dozen of brilliant strategists to create at a moment’s notice. He was a natural improviser who earned recognition from his quick wit. Often scoring proverbial victories over negotiations and civil banters alike.
Spoiler: Failure
It has been several cycles in which I’ve no recollection of what transpired.
In this seemingly new world I’ve regained conscious in, I am thrown like an infant and forced to adapt to my current surroundings. For several weeks have passed, and no knowledge of what happened during those time came into thought. With only scores of bulletpoints on my datapad of progress and preoccupations I must have underwent. The final one of which is emphasized as the ‘final trial’ which I could only surmise as the last trial for apprenticeship.
But throughout this struggle, I’ve kept Sovereign at bay. Neither one of us truly had control over the vessel, and though a deeper personality was lurking within as some form of safeguard to pilot us through the days providing the bare minimum of activity. And with that I came to a sobering realization I was at the midst of failure.
The deadline was underlined today.
With the objective that I was to claim a Duranium ore from Acolyte Sherrena. Apparently, whoever controlled this vessel kept records on updates. It seemed throughout this time she was wholly absent. Even the other acolytes such as Acolyte Nedhorroc who was ordered to keep track on her and eventually rip the object off from her could not find where she had been. Last record of her whereabouts was when a fight broke out between her and Acolyte Natellia in the dormitories, and that whatever transpired led her to avoid everyone indiscriminately. With these circumstances, it instantly confirmed defeat.
Regardless whether or not I was in control of my vessel, nor the fact that Acolyte Sherrena’s avoidance policy was in full effect, the objectives were not met. Throughout the pristine record I have thus accomplished, it was these uncontrollable situations that had finally broke the streak. I was under no delusion that I had no responsibility over it. My ancestor’s doctrine reaffirmed that even when situations are outside of your control, a true Nova would be able to navigate through it. In that regard, I accept that I was severely lacking and would not give any excuses regarding it.
As these thoughts permeates my mind, the hollow echoes of my footsteps felt a tremble beneath the floor. It was a familiar sensation, an aura that radiated with no impunity.
It was Lord Sanguinis.
Glaring in that foreboding manner of his.
He procured from his pouch the one object that had escaped me. The Duranium ore sat neatly between his forefinger and thumb, he mused as to how Major Koren was able to obtain the object in question before I did. In response I admitted my shortcomings and offered no excuses on that matter. Within this moment I had come to terms with losing the potential apprenticeship, I realized the depth of my own inadequacy and set my mind onto refining myself until another opportune moment unveils itself.
Yet the lord did not dismiss me at all, nor was he expressing displeasure. Instead, it was a rare moment in which he offered his piece of wisdom. Then transitioning it to whether or not I was willing to bet everything on a second chance or allow it to slip into obscurity. When such an opportunity reveals itself, what kind of a Nova would I be if I did not seize it?
In this seemingly new world I’ve regained conscious in, I am thrown like an infant and forced to adapt to my current surroundings. For several weeks have passed, and no knowledge of what happened during those time came into thought. With only scores of bulletpoints on my datapad of progress and preoccupations I must have underwent. The final one of which is emphasized as the ‘final trial’ which I could only surmise as the last trial for apprenticeship.
But throughout this struggle, I’ve kept Sovereign at bay. Neither one of us truly had control over the vessel, and though a deeper personality was lurking within as some form of safeguard to pilot us through the days providing the bare minimum of activity. And with that I came to a sobering realization I was at the midst of failure.
The deadline was underlined today.
With the objective that I was to claim a Duranium ore from Acolyte Sherrena. Apparently, whoever controlled this vessel kept records on updates. It seemed throughout this time she was wholly absent. Even the other acolytes such as Acolyte Nedhorroc who was ordered to keep track on her and eventually rip the object off from her could not find where she had been. Last record of her whereabouts was when a fight broke out between her and Acolyte Natellia in the dormitories, and that whatever transpired led her to avoid everyone indiscriminately. With these circumstances, it instantly confirmed defeat.
Regardless whether or not I was in control of my vessel, nor the fact that Acolyte Sherrena’s avoidance policy was in full effect, the objectives were not met. Throughout the pristine record I have thus accomplished, it was these uncontrollable situations that had finally broke the streak. I was under no delusion that I had no responsibility over it. My ancestor’s doctrine reaffirmed that even when situations are outside of your control, a true Nova would be able to navigate through it. In that regard, I accept that I was severely lacking and would not give any excuses regarding it.
As these thoughts permeates my mind, the hollow echoes of my footsteps felt a tremble beneath the floor. It was a familiar sensation, an aura that radiated with no impunity.
It was Lord Sanguinis.
Glaring in that foreboding manner of his.
He procured from his pouch the one object that had escaped me. The Duranium ore sat neatly between his forefinger and thumb, he mused as to how Major Koren was able to obtain the object in question before I did. In response I admitted my shortcomings and offered no excuses on that matter. Within this moment I had come to terms with losing the potential apprenticeship, I realized the depth of my own inadequacy and set my mind onto refining myself until another opportune moment unveils itself.
Yet the lord did not dismiss me at all, nor was he expressing displeasure. Instead, it was a rare moment in which he offered his piece of wisdom. Then transitioning it to whether or not I was willing to bet everything on a second chance or allow it to slip into obscurity. When such an opportunity reveals itself, what kind of a Nova would I be if I did not seize it?
Spoiler: The Test
Eventually the conversation was led towards the training pit, and it was evident that whatever will transpire would stem from combat taking place. Thus, my mind sharpened and flourished plans within. In that moment, we were facing one another within the ring. Yet the difference in power was almost palpable and sizzling within the very air. Even breathing air started to turn cold, and I realized the engines of my heartbeat had already drifted into overdrive.
His hand displayed the Duranium ore, as though allowing its presence to gawk in front of me. Yet the shimmer of barrier was evident, and instinctively I drew my own and thus the true purpose of this was revealed.
“Take this from me, and I will make you my apprentice.”
The words deceptively lingered in its simplicity yet was said in a decisive manner. A silent affirmation that this was a pivotal moment. To decide whether I was truly worthy or merely a part of the masses that will eventually wither unforgotten into the sands of history.
I surmised that this was not the true test.
One would not expect an aspirant with their powers at an infancy stage, to be able to rip an object off the iron grasp of a Sith. Even more-so this is a fully fledged Sith Lord and one who is a veteran in the battlefield. The difficulty is no different from attempting to wrest the seasoned duelist’s lightsaber from their clutches, as both are tangible and small objects. The true test lies in evaluating my combat methods, mindset, and how I would approach a superior enemy. He wanted to know how I fight.
But I wanted to prove myself as an exception. To do what was impossible. To be that statistical anomaly. There was a churning feeling that burns with such ferocity that I could not nor want to explain. I wanted to drown in it. To immerse in it.
Thus my passion flowed into improvisational steps of a game plan.
His hand displayed the Duranium ore, as though allowing its presence to gawk in front of me. Yet the shimmer of barrier was evident, and instinctively I drew my own and thus the true purpose of this was revealed.
“Take this from me, and I will make you my apprentice.”
The words deceptively lingered in its simplicity yet was said in a decisive manner. A silent affirmation that this was a pivotal moment. To decide whether I was truly worthy or merely a part of the masses that will eventually wither unforgotten into the sands of history.
I surmised that this was not the true test.
One would not expect an aspirant with their powers at an infancy stage, to be able to rip an object off the iron grasp of a Sith. Even more-so this is a fully fledged Sith Lord and one who is a veteran in the battlefield. The difficulty is no different from attempting to wrest the seasoned duelist’s lightsaber from their clutches, as both are tangible and small objects. The true test lies in evaluating my combat methods, mindset, and how I would approach a superior enemy. He wanted to know how I fight.
But I wanted to prove myself as an exception. To do what was impossible. To be that statistical anomaly. There was a churning feeling that burns with such ferocity that I could not nor want to explain. I wanted to drown in it. To immerse in it.
Thus my passion flowed into improvisational steps of a game plan.
Spoiler: Analytical Confrontation
Repositioning. Depriving defensive parameters.
First move I conducted was a double handed Force Push. It was not design to overwhelm nor injure him. It was meant to weaken the barrier he had raised. But even moreso, it would reposition him further against a wall. To undo a superior force, one must create an imbalance in their flow. His options- while vast- is narrowed down to a number of possible actions. All of which begun processing fervently within my mind.
Yet I realized that there was a limit in what I could influence. Such was the strength of Lord Sanguinis, he displayed an aptitude that immediately restored any loss footing he could have sustained. Force Inertia works wonders in readjusting oneself, as he deftly landed on the metal skirting board. But all was not lost, as it remains within parameters and I had already begun the next sequence of my plans.
Destabilisation. Narrowing maneuverability parameters.
I’ve flourished a deceptive Force Push that seemingly aimed at him but instead would quake upon the platform itself. It was a mundane sequence with no added benefit beyond the obvious imbalance of his footing, yet it was the most feasible move since there is no longer space behind him to which he could retreat from. Which narrows his options in response, whether to engage it directly, or to avoid to the sides. The former would have been a detrimental move, since the first phase had robbed him of his barrier. The second would unknowingly force him to either sides of the corners which would create a disadvantage for himself should he utilize Ataru. Speed was one of the key concerns, as I would not be able to respond someone of superior attributes.
Yet he responded in a way that was one of the least likely to occur. He moved upwards by exerting himself to raise the entirety of the platform to a higher ground. Being below him, I lost sight of him as the view of the bottom side of the platform had consumed my visions. This placed me in an instant disadvantage, and thus I recalculated and sought to return a line of sight with him. As I was retreating, the platform strangely became larger. And it came as an anxious fear when I realized it was blasted towards me. I narrowly escaped by lunging to the side of the room as the platform lay rested in front of me, it was fortunate that I was already in the midst of retreating. But in so doing had placed me on the corner of the room, which limited my own maneuverability. But I took advantage of the new environmental change.
Counterattack. Offensive burst strategy.
Using the platform to cover my intent, I prepared myself while pre-disrupting the training blade’s battery then committed to throwing it towards him. I swiftly followed up by a vigorous Force Shock that would overload the battery when it had reached within the proximity. An explosion occurred with shrapnel’s disengaging from all directions, and it was here I exploited the platform as both a cover and a shield. I was unharmed by the miniature explosion.
But turns out he was too.
He had raised a concentrated barrier that hummed with unnatural strength that absorbed the brunt of the explosion itself. Not even a single shrapnel managed to pierce itself through. There was a musing tone when he spoke that I no longer held a weapon and was backed towards a corner. Provocative when he said it was fitting. As though I was an animal awaiting its own slaughter. Had I been an adversary of relative power, this minor Dun Moch tactic may have done its share of mental imbalance. Yet against a far superior opponent, there was virtually no way I would underestimate him.
Deception. Preconceived calculation exploitation.
With the landscape I have thus created, a veil of smoke had enshrouded the area from the minor explosion preventing a degree of visibility from either side. The situation was fundamentally created in my favour, as I exploited my own Arkanian physiology in detecting thermal signatures, and thus was able to pinpoint his location despite the haze. In an act of feigning desperation, I rushed forth towards him with my hand outstretched as though attempting to seize the ore. The reason for such was that I suspect his mask also affords thermal sensors as he has shown that it had technological capabilities and not simply as a facet to hide his identity. It was when he allowed a recording to flourish out that entailed Acolyte Alencia’s treasonous activities before the lord severed her arm. While it was one occurrence, I did not allow that piece of information to slip me by.
Thus, it was meant as a layered scheme, that I was seemingly acting out on desperation or simply a bold offensive strategy that exploited nothing more than an enshrouded area. If he utilized a passive method of detecting me through sensors or an active method such as Force Sense, then he would be able to see the distance of which is needed for me to reach him. Only requiring the bare minimum of effort to thwart this direct confrontation.
But I exploited the possible calculation within his mind, whilst my hand was outstretched, I utilized a Force Pull onto a training blade on a rack behind him. When I was about to arrive in close proximity, the blade would appear from his blindspot and allow me the advantage of a sudden increase of reach. This maneuver was first designed to combat against ‘percentage dealers’ such as Apprentice Aljo who maximise on efficiency and divines’ distances into calculation, this maneuver serves as a bane of their existence. That split moment would have outmaneuvered reaction times, as I performed an augmented swing that aimed towards the ore from the abrupt extension of reach.
Yet his figure immediately blurred out of sight, as though committing the entirety of his being to avoid this concocted scheme I had planned. The movements of which was unnatural and even exceeded my calculations of him using his perfectly refined augmentation.
This was a true display of Force Speed, one that magnified his own already superior attributes. He had vertically transported himself up the wall to descend with a greater momentum with his lightsaber in full blaze.
This was something I could not escape from unscathe.
First move I conducted was a double handed Force Push. It was not design to overwhelm nor injure him. It was meant to weaken the barrier he had raised. But even moreso, it would reposition him further against a wall. To undo a superior force, one must create an imbalance in their flow. His options- while vast- is narrowed down to a number of possible actions. All of which begun processing fervently within my mind.
Yet I realized that there was a limit in what I could influence. Such was the strength of Lord Sanguinis, he displayed an aptitude that immediately restored any loss footing he could have sustained. Force Inertia works wonders in readjusting oneself, as he deftly landed on the metal skirting board. But all was not lost, as it remains within parameters and I had already begun the next sequence of my plans.
Destabilisation. Narrowing maneuverability parameters.
I’ve flourished a deceptive Force Push that seemingly aimed at him but instead would quake upon the platform itself. It was a mundane sequence with no added benefit beyond the obvious imbalance of his footing, yet it was the most feasible move since there is no longer space behind him to which he could retreat from. Which narrows his options in response, whether to engage it directly, or to avoid to the sides. The former would have been a detrimental move, since the first phase had robbed him of his barrier. The second would unknowingly force him to either sides of the corners which would create a disadvantage for himself should he utilize Ataru. Speed was one of the key concerns, as I would not be able to respond someone of superior attributes.
Yet he responded in a way that was one of the least likely to occur. He moved upwards by exerting himself to raise the entirety of the platform to a higher ground. Being below him, I lost sight of him as the view of the bottom side of the platform had consumed my visions. This placed me in an instant disadvantage, and thus I recalculated and sought to return a line of sight with him. As I was retreating, the platform strangely became larger. And it came as an anxious fear when I realized it was blasted towards me. I narrowly escaped by lunging to the side of the room as the platform lay rested in front of me, it was fortunate that I was already in the midst of retreating. But in so doing had placed me on the corner of the room, which limited my own maneuverability. But I took advantage of the new environmental change.
Counterattack. Offensive burst strategy.
Using the platform to cover my intent, I prepared myself while pre-disrupting the training blade’s battery then committed to throwing it towards him. I swiftly followed up by a vigorous Force Shock that would overload the battery when it had reached within the proximity. An explosion occurred with shrapnel’s disengaging from all directions, and it was here I exploited the platform as both a cover and a shield. I was unharmed by the miniature explosion.
But turns out he was too.
He had raised a concentrated barrier that hummed with unnatural strength that absorbed the brunt of the explosion itself. Not even a single shrapnel managed to pierce itself through. There was a musing tone when he spoke that I no longer held a weapon and was backed towards a corner. Provocative when he said it was fitting. As though I was an animal awaiting its own slaughter. Had I been an adversary of relative power, this minor Dun Moch tactic may have done its share of mental imbalance. Yet against a far superior opponent, there was virtually no way I would underestimate him.
Deception. Preconceived calculation exploitation.
With the landscape I have thus created, a veil of smoke had enshrouded the area from the minor explosion preventing a degree of visibility from either side. The situation was fundamentally created in my favour, as I exploited my own Arkanian physiology in detecting thermal signatures, and thus was able to pinpoint his location despite the haze. In an act of feigning desperation, I rushed forth towards him with my hand outstretched as though attempting to seize the ore. The reason for such was that I suspect his mask also affords thermal sensors as he has shown that it had technological capabilities and not simply as a facet to hide his identity. It was when he allowed a recording to flourish out that entailed Acolyte Alencia’s treasonous activities before the lord severed her arm. While it was one occurrence, I did not allow that piece of information to slip me by.
Thus, it was meant as a layered scheme, that I was seemingly acting out on desperation or simply a bold offensive strategy that exploited nothing more than an enshrouded area. If he utilized a passive method of detecting me through sensors or an active method such as Force Sense, then he would be able to see the distance of which is needed for me to reach him. Only requiring the bare minimum of effort to thwart this direct confrontation.
But I exploited the possible calculation within his mind, whilst my hand was outstretched, I utilized a Force Pull onto a training blade on a rack behind him. When I was about to arrive in close proximity, the blade would appear from his blindspot and allow me the advantage of a sudden increase of reach. This maneuver was first designed to combat against ‘percentage dealers’ such as Apprentice Aljo who maximise on efficiency and divines’ distances into calculation, this maneuver serves as a bane of their existence. That split moment would have outmaneuvered reaction times, as I performed an augmented swing that aimed towards the ore from the abrupt extension of reach.
Yet his figure immediately blurred out of sight, as though committing the entirety of his being to avoid this concocted scheme I had planned. The movements of which was unnatural and even exceeded my calculations of him using his perfectly refined augmentation.
This was a true display of Force Speed, one that magnified his own already superior attributes. He had vertically transported himself up the wall to descend with a greater momentum with his lightsaber in full blaze.
This was something I could not escape from unscathe.
Spoiler: Despair of Impossibility
A Falling Avalanche.
Despite it being one handed due to the ore on his other hand, it did little to wane its ferocity. It was made resoundingly clear as to his mastery on such, and cleared the gap of the reason as to why Sith Siors had favoured it. I have little to no experiences in dealing with such a maneuver, and never truly succeeded in defending against such in the past against his apprentice and I knew in this battle with Lord Sanguinis I would not leave unscathe, especially since he had fully enveloped his entirety with the force.
Blood trickled with a mesh of burnt robes.
I had committed to a dodge, but even that was not enough. Within close proximity, and his lightsaber already ignited, I was prepared to engage in a direct confrontation. It was here my ancestor’s words echoed throughout. Improvisation. I had to recalibrate and plan an endgame where it was possible to seize the ore. I reexamined the situation.
1. Environmental advantages lost. Currently in open space.
2. Sustained injuries due to the lord’s previous Djem So maneuver.
3. Lightsaber drawn. His reach would not allow me to disengage.
4. Defensive options unfeasible. Each attempt merely delays the inevitable due to gap in power.
5. Offensive options unfeasible. Each attempt would be countered due to gap in skills.
6. Retreating unfeasible. His superior attributes would interrupt any attempt.
7. Personal inferior attributes. Cannot withstand a direct confrontation without sustaining injuries.
8. Positioning. Close proximity that endangers any other options, nor able to exploit anything.
9. Deceptive tactics unfeasible. His current concentration had reached its plateau and full sight on me.
10. War of attrition. Delays the inevitable, his endurance and stamina far outstrips mine.
11. Unknown technological factors. He has shown to have gadgets, which adds to the disadvantage.
12. Unknown Force abilities factors. Throughout my time observing him, he had shown to have a vast variety of Force powers. The possibility that he has not yet used the others is abundant and serves as another layer of disadvantage.
13. Propensity of utilizing absolute win conditions. Each complex scheme I launched was thwarted by an absolute force. Force Inertia after destabilization. Concentrated barrier after burst strategy. Force Speed after the exploitation of preconceived calculations. He was not satisfied by simply thwarting each complex scheme, he utterly overpowered any chance.
14. …
My mind continued on racing into endless factors, the list continued on and on and on. Into the smallest details that would not be worthy to be listed, such as the apparent shrapnel’s in the area. And even then, nothing was feasible.
There was simply not a single aspect that was at all to my advantage nor could I exploit. Any possibilities were crushed by uncontrollable external factors. And I was reminded of what had transpired prior to this.
I had failed in the task before in retrieving the ore from Acolyte Sherrena. The failure was also due to external factors outside my control. The sudden thought creeped up into my mind.
Will I fail here too?
Subjugated by the same conditions that plagued me before? Outdone by an impossible situation?
It was simple in declaring that you would rise above the rest.
That you would overcome odds. But even those bleak moments in people’s lives, there was at least a single factor that one could exploit in that given situation. It was far easier to say to others one would crush out the competition when your relative power was within their realms.
Then Valkara sprung to mind amidst the chaos of my thoughts.
Our love was torn and tested by the scrutinizing gaze of those influences we cannot control.
Our separation was also due to these uncontrollable factors. All the agonizing hardships we faced. All the punishments that we were subjected to. Where nothing was ever in our favor. And the creeping terror of Sovereign’s presence haunted our waking moments. I could not provide the love she desperately needed, nor was I able to be deserving of such.
Utahis drifted into my thoughts.
The rivalry between us is one I deeply cherish. It was one that was not layered on detrimental destruction, but where productivity flourished and cultivated us in its chaos. I felt the connection between our legacies, and felt that somewhere down the line, we would have become individuals of exceptional powers forever locked in that cycle of competition. Yet the disconnect that had severed our bonds arises from these same uncontrollable factors.
I had lost both of them.
I realized how truly weak I was when I was confronted by the harsh truth.
I feared the unknown.
But not simply the unknown such as those afraid of death.
The unknown of things that are known. The uncontrollable factors of things that I was fully aware of. To stare at impossibility in its gaping maws and be unable to deny its existence. Utterly kneeling to its unwavering design.
Then the subconscious of subservience entered. Where doubt reigned and irresponsibility attempted to relieve me of this pain. My mind conjured excuses to soothe me. That by definition, one cannot control uncontrollable factors. Chaos would not be chaos if it is orderly.
That I had to remind myself the true test is most likely that Lord Sanguinis is merely evaluating my combat methods. No one would bet on an Acolyte being able to deprive a Sith Lord of an object within his hand. Especially when the lord in question is a renowned veteran and seasoned duelist who has his entire concentration on the acolyte.
Perhaps he would be satisfied with how I’ve conducted myself already. These repositioning of combat methods and tactical stratagems, while adjusting and exploiting the factors within situations I’ve orchestrated.
There is a chance and possibility that he would still offer an apprenticeship after this ordeal. Feasible that he should utterly crush me and perhaps deprive me of certain features, as though I was unmolded clay yet still offer the apprenticeship I desire.
It was all wishful thinking, and nothing held true to reality.
There was simply not a single aspect that was at all to my advantage nor could I exploit. Any possibilities were crushed by uncontrollable external factors. And I was reminded of what had transpired prior to this.
I had failed in the task before in retrieving the ore from Acolyte Sherrena. The failure was also due to external factors outside my control. The sudden thought creeped up into my mind.
Will I fail here too?
Subjugated by the same conditions that plagued me before? Outdone by an impossible situation?
It was simple in declaring that you would rise above the rest.
That you would overcome odds. But even those bleak moments in people’s lives, there was at least a single factor that one could exploit in that given situation. It was far easier to say to others one would crush out the competition when your relative power was within their realms.
Then Valkara sprung to mind amidst the chaos of my thoughts.
Our love was torn and tested by the scrutinizing gaze of those influences we cannot control.
Our separation was also due to these uncontrollable factors. All the agonizing hardships we faced. All the punishments that we were subjected to. Where nothing was ever in our favor. And the creeping terror of Sovereign’s presence haunted our waking moments. I could not provide the love she desperately needed, nor was I able to be deserving of such.
Utahis drifted into my thoughts.
The rivalry between us is one I deeply cherish. It was one that was not layered on detrimental destruction, but where productivity flourished and cultivated us in its chaos. I felt the connection between our legacies, and felt that somewhere down the line, we would have become individuals of exceptional powers forever locked in that cycle of competition. Yet the disconnect that had severed our bonds arises from these same uncontrollable factors.
I had lost both of them.
I realized how truly weak I was when I was confronted by the harsh truth.
I feared the unknown.
But not simply the unknown such as those afraid of death.
The unknown of things that are known. The uncontrollable factors of things that I was fully aware of. To stare at impossibility in its gaping maws and be unable to deny its existence. Utterly kneeling to its unwavering design.
Then the subconscious of subservience entered. Where doubt reigned and irresponsibility attempted to relieve me of this pain. My mind conjured excuses to soothe me. That by definition, one cannot control uncontrollable factors. Chaos would not be chaos if it is orderly.
That I had to remind myself the true test is most likely that Lord Sanguinis is merely evaluating my combat methods. No one would bet on an Acolyte being able to deprive a Sith Lord of an object within his hand. Especially when the lord in question is a renowned veteran and seasoned duelist who has his entire concentration on the acolyte.
Perhaps he would be satisfied with how I’ve conducted myself already. These repositioning of combat methods and tactical stratagems, while adjusting and exploiting the factors within situations I’ve orchestrated.
There is a chance and possibility that he would still offer an apprenticeship after this ordeal. Feasible that he should utterly crush me and perhaps deprive me of certain features, as though I was unmolded clay yet still offer the apprenticeship I desire.
It was all wishful thinking, and nothing held true to reality.
Spoiler: Maelstrom of Resolve
My heart is bleeding.
Why was I creating excuses for myself?
How can I live with myself if I passed, knowing I had failed to overcome this eternal struggle?
If I cannot overcome this now, I stand to lose people I care about over and over again. No matter what powers I obtained. A perpetual cycle of losses till it breaks down my soul.
I would remain a weakling behind the robes of the strong. A prey pretending itself to be a predator.
I never wanted to become such a false Sith.
I wanted to stand as a paragon.
An exemplar.
One who would not tolerate those Sith that was granted power without truly understanding what it is worth. The pretense of such I highly vilify in others I’ve observed on a daily basis. To purge these disgusting stains upon the order. Knot their entrails and display them to the next screw up that dares tarnish the name of the Sith.
I am severely disappointed.
-Truly- disappointed.
Strictly tired of these immature Sith.
Ineffectual malcontents whose hypocrisy knows no bounds.
Incompetent cretins wallowing in their dirt, parading as Sith whilst squirming in their filth.
I will -not- allow these scums to tarnish the legacy of my grandfather.
I had to become the Sith I was meant to be.
That was when I decided what I had to do.
No longer will I allow any losses. No longer will I allow weakness. I will not settle for anything less than perfection. And if the ‘gods’ decide that I should fail, I will drag them off their pedestals and burn their false thrones till there is nothing but ash to remind them not to vex me.
There was a resonance in my mind that clicked in its obscurity. As though the amalgamation of self-loathing of my own weakness and an innate hatred of others concocted itself into a maelstrom of awareness. Sovereign’s influence rooted into the core, and as it did, an overwhelming sense of dominance exerted out.
The mind surged out into countless processes. All fervently scanning multitudes of information in search of a particular knowledge. A seemingly irrelevant memory that could be the crux of the solution.
Until finally it unveiled itself.
“Here kneels the wretch Nedhorroc, who in his presumptuous hubris has diminished the name of House Horuset in public in front of Sith Lords of the Empire. He offered them little courtesy, spoke to them as equal and proclaimed himself the Rank of Sith despite being nothing more than filth. This disgrace, this alien degenerate will serve as an example for all those who seek to sully the Dark Lord’s name with their putrid actions and claim power beyond them.”
Within the memory, Lord Sangunis exerted his raw physical prowess- utterly demolishing the Zabrak. He landed a heavy fist that reverberated and echoed when it hit the Zabrak’s body where the liver and kidneys are. Within that movement he had blasted the alien onto the ground in front of him.
Staring at him with those infernal eyes in complete and utter disgust.
As though exemplifying how disgraceful his hubris was.
This was the final piece.
This memory was what I needed.
Why was I creating excuses for myself?
How can I live with myself if I passed, knowing I had failed to overcome this eternal struggle?
If I cannot overcome this now, I stand to lose people I care about over and over again. No matter what powers I obtained. A perpetual cycle of losses till it breaks down my soul.
I would remain a weakling behind the robes of the strong. A prey pretending itself to be a predator.
I never wanted to become such a false Sith.
I wanted to stand as a paragon.
An exemplar.
One who would not tolerate those Sith that was granted power without truly understanding what it is worth. The pretense of such I highly vilify in others I’ve observed on a daily basis. To purge these disgusting stains upon the order. Knot their entrails and display them to the next screw up that dares tarnish the name of the Sith.
I am severely disappointed.
-Truly- disappointed.
Strictly tired of these immature Sith.
Ineffectual malcontents whose hypocrisy knows no bounds.
Incompetent cretins wallowing in their dirt, parading as Sith whilst squirming in their filth.
I will -not- allow these scums to tarnish the legacy of my grandfather.
I had to become the Sith I was meant to be.
That was when I decided what I had to do.
No longer will I allow any losses. No longer will I allow weakness. I will not settle for anything less than perfection. And if the ‘gods’ decide that I should fail, I will drag them off their pedestals and burn their false thrones till there is nothing but ash to remind them not to vex me.
There was a resonance in my mind that clicked in its obscurity. As though the amalgamation of self-loathing of my own weakness and an innate hatred of others concocted itself into a maelstrom of awareness. Sovereign’s influence rooted into the core, and as it did, an overwhelming sense of dominance exerted out.
The mind surged out into countless processes. All fervently scanning multitudes of information in search of a particular knowledge. A seemingly irrelevant memory that could be the crux of the solution.
Until finally it unveiled itself.
“Here kneels the wretch Nedhorroc, who in his presumptuous hubris has diminished the name of House Horuset in public in front of Sith Lords of the Empire. He offered them little courtesy, spoke to them as equal and proclaimed himself the Rank of Sith despite being nothing more than filth. This disgrace, this alien degenerate will serve as an example for all those who seek to sully the Dark Lord’s name with their putrid actions and claim power beyond them.”
Within the memory, Lord Sangunis exerted his raw physical prowess- utterly demolishing the Zabrak. He landed a heavy fist that reverberated and echoed when it hit the Zabrak’s body where the liver and kidneys are. Within that movement he had blasted the alien onto the ground in front of him.
Staring at him with those infernal eyes in complete and utter disgust.
As though exemplifying how disgraceful his hubris was.
This was the final piece.
This memory was what I needed.
Spoiler: Against All Odds
As the endgame projected itself in my mind, my mental and physical fortitude replenished in vigour and spirit.
Lord Sanguinis glared with narrow eyes as his lightsaber spread out like a crimson wing of annihilation. I engaged in a disadvantaged strategy, confronting him into blade combat. I had knowingly engaged in an option that would leave me injured and was highly unfeasible, yet in so doing I had created the necessary steps to allow the end goal to manifest itself.
The flurries I enacted out continuously left me battered with refined counterattacks that was coupled by an elbow blow by the lord leaving me painfully injured. Each successive time, I deceptively attempted to reach ever closer to the ore in his hand, until an opening unveiled itself and as it did, I placed weight onto my recessive back leg in anticipation. I managed to use a Force Pull whilst the lord was on the offensive that allowed my hand to finally reach the ore in his hand.
Yet in so doing, his crimson lightsaber had deftly reached near the throat of my neck.
There was a pensive silence that permeated the room.
Lord Sanguinis stared through his infernal mask, awaiting a reaction from me. Whether this ‘checkmate’ move had finally broken me or was I foolish enough to attempt anything else.
More than anyone, I was aware I could not do any more moves. But it did not mean the game has ended. Nor was my inaction a sign of surrendering.
No. The game had merely reached its plateau. This was the critical moment I anticipated.
I felt the projection of Sovereign emanating from me, as it expressed itself through an air of scrutiny. A cold precision embedded itself within me layered with obscure ruthlessness. I did something I never had done before.
I stared directly back at Lord Sangunis’s own infernal glare.
Our gaze locked, and despite my broken figure, it did little in depriving any intensity of my gaze. For what seemed like an eternity trapped in a few seconds, I was waiting for him to make that -one- move.
Then it happened.
He allowed himself a snort that exemplifies his view of the situation. Within a swift movement he dis-ignited his lightsaber and slammed his fist into my solar plexus before launching me with the same hand using Force Push, blasting me on the ground in front of him.
The pain was agonizing, and I felt myself reeling backwards and slamming against the hardened metal. I felt a fracture of my ribcage as it descended heavily upon me. Spurting out crimson blood and breathing hard drawn air.
Then the lord’s awareness had settled into his mind.
He realised his left-hand glove had disappeared… Along with the ore.
His white bluish skin had revealed itself before placing the lightsaber to his waist. For an enigmatic figure who viciously hunted those that attempted to unveil his identity, he had found that his hand was exposed, a decisive confirmation and undoubtable evidence of that he was neither a Pureblood nor a Human.
Yet the maelstrom of fury was absent. Instead of the wrath he has a history of enacting onto those beneath him that attempted to uncover of what lies beyond his masked veil, he brooded in his silence.
Watching me ever closely.
As to how I was able to seize the ore from the lord, it arises from a number of things.
It was evident that while the lightsaber was at my throat, he never intended to end my life. It was a display to show that this ordeal has ended on his terms. I had considered him using it offensively to shiim me, but since this was the proverbial ‘last’ move, it was relatively unlikely. The next sequence of his move would narrow down the options even further.
Thus, it was here why the recording of Nedhorroc’s punishment proved itself to be the key.
The public display of Zabrak’s punishment revealed to me Lord Sanguinis’s psychological behavior. He was prone to utilizing his raw physical strength in order to make an example. Specifically, he has a penchant of aiming at the centre of the body, with the recording he demonstrated it by aiming for the liver and kidney area before casting the Zabrak on the ground in front of him.
Beforehand I realized I could not find an advantage in any factors. Nor was there any exploitable situations or circumstance. The fight had drawn on, and the lord’s focus eventually permeated the battlefield. While I was able to orchestrate situations in the initial stages, it was unfeasible as the battle progressed.
I could not control these uncontrollable external factors. But instead I opted to anticipate it.
When he had dis-ignited his lightsaber, the recessive leg I had prepared earlier moved into action. I planted it against his waist planning to use it as a pivot and seized the ore with both my hands, aiming to hold onto it with the entirety of all my strength. I anticipated that he would aim for the same area that he had subjected the Zabrak into, with the goal of blasting my body off to the ground. Though the Force Push added to the blow was something I did not predict, it ironically had aided me in securing the momentum in depriving him of the ore.
Within my broken state I attempted to stand. My heartbeat was beating in war-like drums, I had overcome the impossible. Not by adapting to the situation, but anticipating of what will be.
What Lord Sanguinis inquired of me prior to all this eventually became true.
I had risk everything for this second chance. Most are unwilling to sacrifice and enact failures to gain something. They become too cautious, too withdrawn and would rather act on a combat sequence when it confirmed their victory. In that regard, they lacked the resolve needed to engage those far superior than they are.
While in hindsight the entirety of the plan sounds masterfully crafted, the reality was that I had risked everything on the microscopic chance that my prediction became true.
It was a gambit that merely paid off. Statistically a vast number of things could- and under normal circumstance would guarantee to go wrong. But in the words of the lord himself, you must crush these like a bug.
The silence that permeated the room was finally ended with one single word uttered from me in a tone of decisiveness, presenting the prize I seized from the hands of the Sith Lord himself. The sentiment was reciprocated in turn by Lord Sanguinis, who curiously stated it rather emphatically.
“…Master”
“Kneel…”
This singular word fully encapsulated the magnitude of the moment. There was a resounding sense of affirmation that echoed throughout my body, and a feeling of euphoria- the likes of a plateaued bloodlust and adrenaline had seep into my brain.
What transpired after was a declaration of my new position, and the decree of responsibilities that would be expected of me. And by the end of the ordeal Lord Sanguinis launched a lightning towards the bloodied physique of my being as a reminder of all this.
Yet I was exhilarated.
The epiphany that Lord Sanguinis rose to the upper echelons of the Empire as an alien confirmed to me that those of worth could rise beyond their specie’s station. The rumors were no longer vague speculations to me. Even more gratifying was the fact that this is a traditionalist powerbase, his existence alone proves that he is the exception to the norm. He was the statistical anomaly that I aspired to be. One who could turn tides against all odds by their presence alone.
Grandfather…
At last, I have reached the gateway to power. What lies beyond these obscure doors will conjure adversities beyond my current comprehension.
But know that I will overcome them.
I will uphold these principles of the Sith and all that which we stand.
Should despair beckons me into its embrace, unwaveringly will I deny the warmth of its façade with the coldness of my existence.
And should those of false power and worth attempt to force their will upon me, I will viciously rip their tendons out until they can do nothing but kneel in utter subservience.
This is my new creed. A vow I will strive to uphold.
Never waver, never relent.
Lord Sanguinis glared with narrow eyes as his lightsaber spread out like a crimson wing of annihilation. I engaged in a disadvantaged strategy, confronting him into blade combat. I had knowingly engaged in an option that would leave me injured and was highly unfeasible, yet in so doing I had created the necessary steps to allow the end goal to manifest itself.
The flurries I enacted out continuously left me battered with refined counterattacks that was coupled by an elbow blow by the lord leaving me painfully injured. Each successive time, I deceptively attempted to reach ever closer to the ore in his hand, until an opening unveiled itself and as it did, I placed weight onto my recessive back leg in anticipation. I managed to use a Force Pull whilst the lord was on the offensive that allowed my hand to finally reach the ore in his hand.
Yet in so doing, his crimson lightsaber had deftly reached near the throat of my neck.
There was a pensive silence that permeated the room.
Lord Sanguinis stared through his infernal mask, awaiting a reaction from me. Whether this ‘checkmate’ move had finally broken me or was I foolish enough to attempt anything else.
More than anyone, I was aware I could not do any more moves. But it did not mean the game has ended. Nor was my inaction a sign of surrendering.
No. The game had merely reached its plateau. This was the critical moment I anticipated.
I felt the projection of Sovereign emanating from me, as it expressed itself through an air of scrutiny. A cold precision embedded itself within me layered with obscure ruthlessness. I did something I never had done before.
I stared directly back at Lord Sangunis’s own infernal glare.
Our gaze locked, and despite my broken figure, it did little in depriving any intensity of my gaze. For what seemed like an eternity trapped in a few seconds, I was waiting for him to make that -one- move.
Then it happened.
He allowed himself a snort that exemplifies his view of the situation. Within a swift movement he dis-ignited his lightsaber and slammed his fist into my solar plexus before launching me with the same hand using Force Push, blasting me on the ground in front of him.
The pain was agonizing, and I felt myself reeling backwards and slamming against the hardened metal. I felt a fracture of my ribcage as it descended heavily upon me. Spurting out crimson blood and breathing hard drawn air.
Then the lord’s awareness had settled into his mind.
He realised his left-hand glove had disappeared… Along with the ore.
His white bluish skin had revealed itself before placing the lightsaber to his waist. For an enigmatic figure who viciously hunted those that attempted to unveil his identity, he had found that his hand was exposed, a decisive confirmation and undoubtable evidence of that he was neither a Pureblood nor a Human.
Yet the maelstrom of fury was absent. Instead of the wrath he has a history of enacting onto those beneath him that attempted to uncover of what lies beyond his masked veil, he brooded in his silence.
Watching me ever closely.
As to how I was able to seize the ore from the lord, it arises from a number of things.
It was evident that while the lightsaber was at my throat, he never intended to end my life. It was a display to show that this ordeal has ended on his terms. I had considered him using it offensively to shiim me, but since this was the proverbial ‘last’ move, it was relatively unlikely. The next sequence of his move would narrow down the options even further.
Thus, it was here why the recording of Nedhorroc’s punishment proved itself to be the key.
The public display of Zabrak’s punishment revealed to me Lord Sanguinis’s psychological behavior. He was prone to utilizing his raw physical strength in order to make an example. Specifically, he has a penchant of aiming at the centre of the body, with the recording he demonstrated it by aiming for the liver and kidney area before casting the Zabrak on the ground in front of him.
Beforehand I realized I could not find an advantage in any factors. Nor was there any exploitable situations or circumstance. The fight had drawn on, and the lord’s focus eventually permeated the battlefield. While I was able to orchestrate situations in the initial stages, it was unfeasible as the battle progressed.
I could not control these uncontrollable external factors. But instead I opted to anticipate it.
When he had dis-ignited his lightsaber, the recessive leg I had prepared earlier moved into action. I planted it against his waist planning to use it as a pivot and seized the ore with both my hands, aiming to hold onto it with the entirety of all my strength. I anticipated that he would aim for the same area that he had subjected the Zabrak into, with the goal of blasting my body off to the ground. Though the Force Push added to the blow was something I did not predict, it ironically had aided me in securing the momentum in depriving him of the ore.
Within my broken state I attempted to stand. My heartbeat was beating in war-like drums, I had overcome the impossible. Not by adapting to the situation, but anticipating of what will be.
What Lord Sanguinis inquired of me prior to all this eventually became true.
I had risk everything for this second chance. Most are unwilling to sacrifice and enact failures to gain something. They become too cautious, too withdrawn and would rather act on a combat sequence when it confirmed their victory. In that regard, they lacked the resolve needed to engage those far superior than they are.
While in hindsight the entirety of the plan sounds masterfully crafted, the reality was that I had risked everything on the microscopic chance that my prediction became true.
It was a gambit that merely paid off. Statistically a vast number of things could- and under normal circumstance would guarantee to go wrong. But in the words of the lord himself, you must crush these like a bug.
The silence that permeated the room was finally ended with one single word uttered from me in a tone of decisiveness, presenting the prize I seized from the hands of the Sith Lord himself. The sentiment was reciprocated in turn by Lord Sanguinis, who curiously stated it rather emphatically.
“…Master”
“Kneel…”
This singular word fully encapsulated the magnitude of the moment. There was a resounding sense of affirmation that echoed throughout my body, and a feeling of euphoria- the likes of a plateaued bloodlust and adrenaline had seep into my brain.
What transpired after was a declaration of my new position, and the decree of responsibilities that would be expected of me. And by the end of the ordeal Lord Sanguinis launched a lightning towards the bloodied physique of my being as a reminder of all this.
Yet I was exhilarated.
The epiphany that Lord Sanguinis rose to the upper echelons of the Empire as an alien confirmed to me that those of worth could rise beyond their specie’s station. The rumors were no longer vague speculations to me. Even more gratifying was the fact that this is a traditionalist powerbase, his existence alone proves that he is the exception to the norm. He was the statistical anomaly that I aspired to be. One who could turn tides against all odds by their presence alone.
Grandfather…
At last, I have reached the gateway to power. What lies beyond these obscure doors will conjure adversities beyond my current comprehension.
But know that I will overcome them.
I will uphold these principles of the Sith and all that which we stand.
Should despair beckons me into its embrace, unwaveringly will I deny the warmth of its façade with the coldness of my existence.
And should those of false power and worth attempt to force their will upon me, I will viciously rip their tendons out until they can do nothing but kneel in utter subservience.
This is my new creed. A vow I will strive to uphold.
Never waver, never relent.
![[Image: FinalSovKneelEdit12.jpg]](https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/337951229823156225/588384160205242399/FinalSovKneelEdit12.jpg)
