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Post by JediKaren on Aug 22, 2007 19:05:09 GMT -5
The dinning hall, with it grand old tanish stone work that dated back several thousand of years was packed of people, not just humans, but all sorts of creatures, or what was probably rude to call, aliens, sitting down for the last meal of the day. The room was full of chatter, laughter, praises being thrown around, glares, and all the drama a person could want. The smell of various meats and plants being cooked, drifted on the slightly breeze in the air, filling my nose with delicious scents, tempting my stomach to growl with hunger. I had just spotted Lyn and would have run over to her when a calm Master Mirmo stepped into my path. I silently cursed him and his timing.
“Hello Karen.”
I greeted him quickly and took a step to his right to get around him. Mirmo shifted his weight just enough to continue to block me. I silently growled, impatient to get rid of him.
“Now, is that anyway to treat your master? You should be ashamed of yourself, brushing me aside as though I am an uninteresting piece of trash.”
It took all my self control not to say what I was thinking. I looked up at him, straight in the eyes and told him that I was sorry for pushing him away, but I had intended to go to Lyn.
“That is alright. I was just joking. I will move out of your way, though why you are so impatient to talk to her?”
I didn’t know why, but at the point in time I had decided, right there and then, not to tell my master of my telekinesis achievement. There was no logical reason to hold this exciting information, but the fact that I hadn’t reached my highest expectation, just made me want to hold off. Besides, I wanted the opinion of my best friend before letting Master Mirmo on this secret. I had to think quickly and managed to pull together a half meaningful explanation about some gossip and drama that I wanted to report back to her and get her opinion. Mirmo’s eye brows went up at the remark.
“Oh, you want her opinion and not mine? I see how it is.”
His voice was quieter than usual. I had a hard time trying to tell if he was pretending to be hurt or was his voice real. He had blocked his emotions from me, leaving me hopeless to guess. I hadn’t meant it to come out as rude or insulting, but I winced at my own tactless answer. I told him it was a girl thing and quickly hurried past him before he could respond. I felt slightly bad for this small mess, but all the same, I would not take back my words.
Lyn was sitting at a table, with a tray of half eaten brown meat and something that looked like white rice with two other girls. A groan came from me, as I realized this was my least favorite meal and turned my attention to the other girls. I vaguely knew these friends of Lyn for they had spent some time with her lately. Lyn was like me in that she didn’t have very many friends, nor needed them, but she could easily find company when wanted.
“Hi Karen. These are my friends that I knew before you came here. Have you had dinner?”
I shook my head and told her I wasn’t hungry. I sat down, but only on the edge of the seat, barely holding back to need to burst out with my news. I opened my mouth to say something when the two girls stood up and turned to Lyn.
“Lyn, we’ve got stuff to do, so we’ll see you later.”
Lyn smiled politely and bade them goodbye. I dropped my glaze for a second, knowing these girls didn’t approve of me and would not associate themselves with my presence. I had forgotten that the normal workings of society do not disappear just because one is in a school to become a Jedi. For a moment, I felt shameful and embarrassed for Lyn.
“Hey Karen, what’s wrong? You look like someone just died.”
I signed, forced a fake smile on my face and firmly told her it was nothing. We had been friends only enough to know when to push these things. I changed the subject and told her about the prior class and how I managed to move the ball.
“That’s great! I’m really happy for you! I saw Master Mirmo approach you before you came here. Did you tell him about the awesome news?”
I shook my head for the second time in less than twenty minutes.
“Why not? There’s nothing to hide. I’m sure he would be really pleased to hear this.”
Yes, he would be pleased, but I wanted him to be proud. I wanted to gain as much control as I could before I told him the news.
“Karen, I think he would be proud even now. You ought to tell him. Keeping a secret only weakens the bond between the apprentice and master.”
A flash of anger came over me. My body stiffened and tensed up. I saw the angry flash of my eyes in the clear, innocent reflection of hers. My blood rose as so did the heat of emotion blush a redish pink in my cheeks. Who was Lyn to tell me this? She acted as if she had a master and she didn’t. If she was so great, then how come she didn’t have a master after being here longer than me? She knew nothing about having a bond and what strengthens and weakness it. She should stop lecturing me like a master and start taking notes from me so she could stop being so pitiful and weak. When she spoke, her voice was soft, full hurt, and clear that she sensed the flare within me.
“Karen?”
I turned abruptly and left her standing there, completely befuddled by my turn in moods. I stalked out of the dinning, still having eaten nothing, and went to my room to blast the night away in angry, meaningful songs that spoke to my heart, now full of darkness.
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Post by snowind on Aug 23, 2007 15:57:34 GMT -5
Cool chapter Karen, keep 'em coming
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Post by leethal on Aug 24, 2007 8:17:18 GMT -5
Dont go over to the dark side, miss K.
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Post by JediKaren on Aug 29, 2007 21:08:09 GMT -5
Sorry for making you all wait, but I stalled for a long time, unable to get myself to write this horribly painful scene. Please read it.
The next day was another weekly day off from class. These days were rather quiet in the morning, seeing how the students would sleep in; even some apprentices were allowed to get up for training later than usual. Many of the students spent time together, yapping, joking, and relaxing with their fellow Jedi. Other trainees who were more adventuress would make day trips in the near by jungle. The staff of the temple took turns each week leading a group of students on a one night camping trip. Although I had been on one of their camping trips, I preferred to go alone into the hot, stick jungle with Master Mirmo’s permission, and he always gave it. For that day I decided not to go anywhere, but stay in my room and quietly work on my computer, by now I was starting to have a good grip on how to operate.
My dark mood kept hold of me during the morning and through the day. I stayed in my room mostly to hide from people that would nudge my barely contained self control into a wild passionate flame throwing fire of anger and raging hormones. My master seemed to be clueless or had simply learned to leave me alone when nature was to blame. When I was not sitting in front of the screen, battling carpal tunnel and ruining my slowly fading eye sight, I was curled up into a ball, wishing to murder nature and her idea behind woman’s pain.
It was in the evening when Mirmo came by. I could tell the moment he walked in by his posture, the grave facial expression, the way he hesitantly walked in, and by the gift of empathy the Force gave me, that he had bad news. I waited politely for him to talk to me.
“Karen, I have seen you do a remarkable amount of healing over the last three months, even when tested in the sorest of ways. I do not wish to break this process, and what I am about to ask, may cause a relapse in your progress. I would not dare begin to consider this action, if I did not feel the Force has hinted this is the best course. While I shudder at the prospect of this idea, I have come to the conclusion it is the only way.”
He paused to take a deep breath, staring at the wall for a moment, before gathering his thoughts and nerves.
“I know when you showed me your memories of the past, it caused you quite a bit of harm, yet the leaps of healing you made afterwards convinced me it was worth it. Yet, I know I only saw a sliver of what happened to you. In order to truly understand the pain that continues to plague you in your sleep, I need to see the rest. I ask this as a resquest, not an order. Please consider my word.”
I turned my head away, shifting my body as if to block his idea away. I had not expected this at all. My whole soul ran from the idea of going through more real nightmares, but the Jedi within me saw his wisdom and saw his caring point. I battled, attacked his proposal from all sides, before looking at him again. I quietly, slightly choking on my words, told him I would agree. He wasted no time, giving me no room to back out, in sitting on the bed, gently putting his finger tips on the sides on my head and told me to begin. I felt the connection between us grow strong. I drew on his strength and closed my eyes, bringing up the first memory that came to mind.
I hadn’t meant to be late, but I was. My friend and I had decided to go walking after a heavy snow fall. We got lost in the beauty and wonder of a snowy, silent forest and wondered through the enchanted wonder for two hours before we headed back home. We were close to my house when my father came, marching through the snow and took me home. The moment I saw his big, dominating angry figure, I knew I was in deep trouble. Almost immediately we got into a raging, screaming fight. Nothing bad had happen to me, except I had been out for too long. My father said I had said I would be out for only half an hour, yet I couldn’t remember saying that. Our tempers worsen to the point he threatened to kill me just for “talking back”. That same horrible fear, the wrongness of what he said pounded me, scared me, and angered me. Towards the end of the fight, we cooled down slightly and I demanded an apology for that threat. He said an empty sorry. I knew that beast didn’t mean it at all.
My father always ignored my mom’s drinking problem. He would do nothing to help her, or talk to her. He defended himself with the excuse that my mom’s life had been ruined when I was born and if she wanted to drink or smoke, he wouldn’t stop her. There were two times I woke up to find blood all over the house. Both times he never said anything about my mom getting drunk, but only said she was slurring her words and had fainted the first time. The second time he took me my mom had an “accident” I remember standing there, in shook at the obvious lie he so bravely told me. Yet, those two memories were not the ones that stood out. It was late at night when I woke up. I instantly saw the light in the bathroom and the voices of my mom and dad. It was easy to tell she was drunk in the bathroom, again, which was no surprise, but a horrible, familiar fear I had come to live with. At first, his voice was fairly calm, asking her to get up. She was so drunk, she didn’t know she was drunk, nor understood why she had to get up. He repeated himself over and over, as if that was going to make a difference. I curled up into a ball of fright and wishing my father would wise up. He grew angry because it was late, that he had let this happen and he could not control the scene. His voice turned into a scream, shouting and cursing at her to get to get up. While I didn’t look, I had a pretty good idea he forced her to get up and probably dragged her to bed. I cried that night. I was so scared of everything.
There had always been problems between my dear brother and my father. I was too young to really understand what they were, but I remember my brother telling me of vague, unspeakable things my father had done to my mother, that later on in my life explained her insanity. I never was sure if my brother meant to turn me against my father, but if so I understood why. Yet, the memory that I played in my head for Mirmo was not what my brother said to me, but the night my angel like sibling who I adored so much left me, never to be seen again for eight long, painful years.
It was late at night when I woke up to the sound of angry voices coming from the other side of the house. I was ten, a few months away from being eleven at the time. I got out of bed, curiously wanting to know what was going on. It was quite a shock for my young innocent mind to find my brother and father shouting in each other’s faces. I wanted to stop the fight and tried to get in the middle, to break them up, but a small, weak ten year old can not do much in a situation like this. I was pushed away and my brother, unless my foggy memory had failed me, took a swing at my father. The two of them wrestled each other to the ground and somehow in the brawl, my father lost his glasses. I vividly remember seeing my father hold my brother’s head in an head lock, screaming again and again at my mom to call the police. My mother, bless her heart, refused, saying he could to it himself. Apparently, my father lost the fight for he grabbed his glasses and went to his room and closed the door. There was silence and some talking. My brother told my mom he knew she had been raped and he was so sorry. My mother had denied this. I was told to go to bed, but I refused, for I was scared to be anywhere near my father. In the end, we called up my grandmother and my brother went away in a cab. I shall never forget when my brother kneed down to my short level, told me goodbye, and hugged me. For years, those last words and caring gesture by no means failed to send me to tears.
The last memory I could painfully drag up from the locked room of pure darkness of my mind was one of the worst and proudest days of my life. It was one of those tests life throws all the curve balls possible at you, and yet somehow I made it through in the best way possible. This was the day I was reunited with my sibling.
The memory started out in the morning when I went to check emails and got an email from my brother, asking if I was his sister. I sat in shock and disbelief, but replied, asking for proof the author really was my brother. The reply was a long email relating old memories of my childhood, only shared with my dear brother. Two days later I finally found the nerve and a way to call my long lost sibling at a friend’s house. Although I had been warned he had changed, I had not been included of the details or how much he had changed. I had not been prepared at all to almost from the start of the call to find out my brother had turned into my sister.
The shock of that small, seemly minor fact rocked the core of my world, my beliefs, and my view of how life should go. We talked for nearly an hour, yet it didn’t seem to be long enough, despite the fact that was one of the packed with information calls I ever had. Secrets of the past, of our abuse from our father, the insanity of my mother, the night my brother left me, and our family were revealed. It took all my control to not sob, but hold it in. Later that morning I came back home, still not over the recent event to find my dad asking me to look for blood stains, one of the two nights my mom had cut herself. My mom had a awful bruise on her eyes and that was the day my father lied about what had happened to her. I remember laying on my bed, refusing to let myself cry, instructing and giving words of encouragement to keep going through the day.
I went to my father, asking if I could take my friend on our trip to an amusement park later on in the week, but my father refused and gave me the silent treatment for the rest of the day. This was not the last of the curve balls life threw at me that day. I had managed to put away my feelings, to pull over a face of calm cheerfulness and handle customers at the register. Half way through my evening shift, all the registered crashed on us. Unfortunately, we couldn’t fit the problem and for five hours I struggled through pure chaos. The thing that made this day so impossible was how I never lost it during the shift. I never cried. I never got angry. I was stressed, tired, emotional and mentally numb, but I functioned the best anyone could.
I felt the hands of my master leave my head and dared a glance at him. He seemed to avoid my eyes. An awkward, silent with reflection moment passed us. Neither of us sure what to do, say, or feel.
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Post by snowind on Aug 29, 2007 21:27:18 GMT -5
Wow, harsh chapter J.K., it was really emotional...
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Post by leethal on Aug 31, 2007 6:20:44 GMT -5
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Post by JediKaren on Aug 31, 2007 8:29:52 GMT -5
I was shaking the entire time I wrote it
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Post by JediKaren on Aug 31, 2007 19:44:57 GMT -5
He picked up the letter with trembling hands to realize the worst fear of all. This was not the same letter. The letter was not a page long, not handwritten, nor signed. It was a short one, typed, and without a date or signature, but he knew who was the author. He barely had time to process the words before a loud knock could be heard from the front door. This was the knock of death.
He started at the door, trembling even worse, unable to move. The silence of the house grew louder, demanding a reaction from him. It seemed fate screamed at him to answer the door. Another three, short knocks could be heard. Death was impatient. He swallowed and inched his way to the window of the door. He barely got a glance outside of the door before having the precious seconds to duck a bullet speeding past him. He crunched down; his heart was pounding in his ears and his legs nearly reduced to wiggling jelly. He didn’t dare to breathe. For a few seconds there was rush of screaming silence. He strained his poor hearing for the footsteps of his killer. There was nothing.
Suddenly, the air whipped and cracked a deafening scream. It took him a full three seconds to become aware it was him who made that scream. His eyes searched around for his killer before being forced to look his wet, warm side. He stared, shocked, at the blood rushing from his ribs. There was a definite sign of a bullet hole between his ribs. He couldn’t feel it, but he knew without a doubt that he was dying.
He didn’t move, for fear of activating his pain and attracting the attention of the killer. It didn’t matter. His scream had told the murder where the victim was. His breath was growing rapidly shallow. He didn’t have much time. He heard the quiet steps of a person. He saw sneakers. He recognized those sneakers and nearly screamed again. He looked up and saw the face of death, of fear, of life and death. He saw what was within himself. He saw his daughter with a gun pointed at his face. He opened his mouth, but he couldn’t find his voice. For a second he was full of rage, full of anger, and full of fear. This was just a second as the bullet left the barrel of the gun and ripped through his head, splattering his brain and blood all over the walls of his home.
I hit the save button on my computer and pushed the chair away from the desk. I shot a glare down at my hands, feeling them betray my emotions while shaking in fear and anger. To gain control of them, I raised them to my face and rubbed my bloodshot eyes. I was tired, oh so tired. My head pounded with a dull, aching headache. I sat limp in the desk chair, unable to find the will power or energy to rise and head over to the dinning hall for food. As if to scold my lack of discipline, my stomach painfully growled, and heightened the sense of close to fainting.
I looked at the strange, alien devise for telling time. There were many advances in technology that I had gotten use to, even approved, but the simple wrist watch was one I would never give up. It was nearly time the sun to start rising according to the time piece. The shadows of the night were shortening and fading with the come sun. The temple was at its most quiet, most calming hour, yet feeling escaped me. In a few more hours Jedi would awake, greet each other, and then continue to live on. I would not.
I did not look into the darkness, for I had become the absence of light. I had given up the battle. I had been broken by the last test my former master, Mirmo set for me. Again, I looked at the window, making out the dark outline of the hot jungle against the breaking clouds, streaked with a pale orange. The sky had changed from a midnight black to a deep navy blue. It was time to go. The chair creaked in the hush of the small stone room, sliding against the hard stone floor. What little clothing the Jedi gave me was tossed into a small bag meant for day treks. Water was collected from the small sink mounted in a corner and stored into a large container. Dried, tasteless, but nourishing food bars were forced past teeth and tongue. The lightsaber that had been loaded to me, was placed on the neatly made bed. A look around showed a room that clean, but empty. I was ready.
Quiet were my footsteps as I carefully crept through the sleepy halls. My mind was silent to avoid the masters picking up on my departure. Each door was studied. All corners were checked for cameras. My presence would not be traced easily or quickly. Finally, the last door, the door to freedom was pushed opened.
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Post by JediKaren on Sept 1, 2007 15:18:45 GMT -5
My pace was fast and my mind was driven. If I wanted to be left alone and unfound I had to be fast and careful. I used several tricks like walking on roots, avoiding mud, circling around, or taking the harder path. I ignored the thousands of insets slowly draining me of my blood and causing a part of my restraint to go crazy. After the first mile I gave up wiping the sweat out of my eyes and letting the tears wash away the sting. No branch or tree stump could slow me down. My years of endless walking through the woods back home taught me on how to look, plan, and walk through any type of terrain. The river was a problem.
It had rained for several days, leaving the water raging, nearly overflow its banks. I watched in depression and frustration, the muddy water rushing down. There was one long tree that had fallen over the river, but the water was at its level, sometimes lapsing over the tree. It was clear to me I would have to climb up on the tree and work my way across the bark, hoping the river would not sweep me away. My already shot nerves were not numb enough to attempt this proposed feat. I went upstream, hoping the water would lessen, or at least narrow. This was not the case. I went back and passed the original spot, searching down stream. The strength of the river was reduced, but the depth was still unknown. I gave up and went back to the tree across the river.
I stomped my foot hard on the ground and cursed. There was no time for this. By now Mirmo would have discovered I was missing and gone looking for me. I looked at my hands, shaking, dirty and covered in sweat. I willed them to stop shaking and looked up. The tree was pretty big, though wet. I growled, and grabbed the neared root, hauling myself up to the base. Slowly, on badly shaking knees, I stood for a second before almost slipping off and landing straddled on the rough, black bark. The impact of the hard landing too the breath out of me and my mind froze in pain coming from between my legs. I raised myself again onto my knees and tested my ability to crawl. It turns out that I could crawl. Aware of the pressing lack of time, I sped up my pace. Half way over the tree, covered in moss and slime, I looked down at the water. My pants had gotten partly soaked when the water bounced off the tree. I lowered my head, looking more deeply into the water. That’s when I slipped. It was a fast movement, one that caught my breath, jumped my heart, and made me sweat even more. I hadn’t fallen into the water because at the last second I dug my finger nails into the bark and hung on for dear life. The water tore at my body, swinging my legs from side to side, dragging me off the log. I kicked wildly, but the river seemed to have no bottom, nothing for me to push myself out of the water. I felt my grip out and screamed as I plunged into the rush river.
For a moment I was senseless, due to being tumbled all over, unable to tell which way was up. Air, I needed air. I kicked at the water and stuck a hand past my hand. I felt something that was not water. I forced my body to head for the direction. My head broke out of the muddy wetness around me and my mouth gulped sweat fresh air. The river grabbed me and pulled me down. No! I struggled back up and won. I kicked and moved my arms around to keep on the surface. I had no idea where I was. The river was still rushing. I looked at the banks, trying to judge how far they were from me. I gritted my teeth and did hard, powerful strokes across the current. Blindly, I reached for a root. Several went past my hand and one lasted about a second before snapping off. The river continued to carry me away. I gathered my strength and reached again. A thick branch was grabbed and held against my weight. Hand over hand; I climbed the branch, bracing my feet on the bank. When I was on safe ground, I collapsed panting, dripping, and coughing water.
I stayed there, curled up into a ball. I felt tears form in my eyes and blinked them away. I thought of Mirmo and why I was here. Disgusted with my momentary weakness, I stood up and looked for my bag. It was missing, along with my shoes. Deeper depression hit me as hard as the river had. I had no food, no water, no way to warm up. The thought of my bed, of the dinning hall food, and Lyn came into my head, tempting me to turn back. I looked at the river, still angrily raging and realized I couldn’t even turn back if I wanted to. I could not cross that river again if I wanted to live to see Mirmo again. With a heavy, scared heart started to walk forward, away from the river that nearly drowned me.
There was one place that I knew from my extensive reading and that was the ancient pyramids made by the native people. The native inhabitants were made slaves by a sith lord, thousands of years ago. The teachers of the Jedi did not speak of the temple, but my master had once commented on them, saying few people explored them and one should not go there if one could help it. The temples were places of power, my guess the darkside, but with that said they were dry and would give me shelter from the storms that could ravage the jungle and me. I tried to find one with the Force, but my mind was too battered from the day’s adventure to open up and feel the energy’s warmth. I was Force sensitive, and that meant the Force would still work for me and lead me to the temple if I followed my instincts. There was one direction that led through overgrown tree roots and leafy plants that spoke the loudest to me. Knowing my recent luck had been bad, I headed that direction, hoping to find a dry place to spend the evening and night.
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Post by snowind on Sept 2, 2007 22:04:30 GMT -5
Great Chapters, I liked how you managed to get another story into this one, and I also wonder what will happen next with Karen.
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Post by JediKaren on Sept 3, 2007 19:02:38 GMT -5
I really, desperately, in the most painful way, wished that I had my shoes. The jungle floor wasn’t soft muddy dark ground dirt. It was, at times, a foot thick with sharp, pointy leaves, torn covered vines, and sticks at strange angles everywhere. As careful as I was, looking at each future step, the time I reached the temple’s complex my feet were a swollen, bleeding, red stomps of human flesh, with the blisters pulsing in unknown pain. My clothes had semi dried to stiff pieces of cloth that had a horrible, gagging smell of the stinky, rotting river, strengthened by the hot sun of Yavin and the stench of my own sweat.
Most people, when in this amount of pain, usually let their mind wonder off to some problem to keep distracted. My mind was no different, except that the “problem” I repeatedly played was the last twenty four hours. There mere thought of seeing my father, like in the nightmares I suffered through, now have been shown to my master, caused my hands to tremble slightly, my vision turn red, and more sweat pour down my sticky wet body. I saw the shock and horror Mirmo unsuccessful hide from his face and features. This flare of anger would last for seconds before a powerful, overwhelming fear would take over, turning the hot rivers running down me turning into the iciest jets coming from winter snow. I couldn’t face, couldn’t handle, couldn’t owe up to the fact that I was running away again. That was when the shame would set in and tears ran down, adding to the sweat and blood. I was a coward and there was no nice face I could put on that word. I couldn’t help but run away. It seemed to be the only option. My heart would race, causing my legs to match the speed. If I could, if it was possible, I would run from the darkness in myself and never think or feel it again.
I angrily pushed another dark leafy branch, realizing that was another mistake when the pain exploded in my forearm. I was fairly sure at this point I had an allergic reaction to what ever that head level plant was, and the red, itchy and searing skin proved my hypothesis. A look up from the ground told me I had reached my destination and just in time too as the sun was sinking into the forest floor. This temple was differently built, but made from the same quarry as the Jedi temple. The Jedi temple focused on height and appearing to be big, but lacked minute detail or an artist’s touch. The temple was not much of a pyramid, but with a noticeable flat base and various other stories built on top, making the thing look more like a strangely shaped castle. To enforce the idea of the castle, the temple was surrounded by a glass still pond, or moat, that spanned several yards wide. The closer I came to the edge of the pond, the more curiosity grew about the place.
According to what I had read, the place was the strong hold, the main temple, the core power of the sith’s rule. He had other temples built, like the one the Jedi were occupying, but this was the important one. After he was killed by the Jedi who had finally gotten their act together for the great Sith War, his presences in the Force had gone back to resign in this temple standing before me. Then when Luke Skywalker came with his first dozen students, the Sith’s temple and dark power were discovered by two students, killing one of them and turning the other one for a brief time. Once the mess was over with, Corran had the evil temple destroyed with a good torpedo, but here was the temple before me. I looked again, searching for blast marks and rumble, but this was not the same temple. Yet, as my mind would not get over the fact, it looked like the one I had read about. I didn’t know how many other temples had been built or their location, but I had found one of them still standing.
There was a voice in my mind, a quiet, soft one, full of wisdom and common sense that whispered darkness and disaster. This voice was barely heard over the scream of emotion and ignored. The voice had been pushed back when I left the Jedi. Besides, this temple in front of me seemed innocent enough. If anything, the quiet, unmoving pool gave the place a gentle and inviting look. It was hard to believe a hopelessly corrupt man bent on the loser path had this graceful building built. I decided to go ahead and explore the temple.
Through my research I knew to look at the surface on the pond for stepping stones. The stones weren’t too hard to find. The stones, as my research told me, did create the effect that one was standing on water, and one was more powerful than reality told. The temple was on a small island and took up most of the swampy, muddy land. There was one stone entrance with a heavy stone door. I was worried I wouldn’t be able to get in. I walked around the building, that was bigger than I thought it was, and was half way around when I heard distance rumble of thunder with a breeze that blew my strangled hair around. I groaned, feeling the sting of my depression grow deeper. When my tour was complete, I stood at the door, wondering how easy it would be to get in and avoid the coming storm. I pushed on the door, thinking it would swing inward. Nothing happened. I stood back and looked at the carvings, the curves of the stone, and the general impression.
Looking back gave me the first sign that the innocent feeling I got was a lie. A thought came to me. This building was thought up by a Sith, one that had done a respective amount of damage to the galaxy. Even when I wasn’t on the edge of collapsing, I always have a mind to respect anyone, good or bad, if they did something meaningful. In order to understand this temple, I would have to enter the mind of this legendary individual.
Evil didn’t mean stupid and if he was able to conquer a local tribe and had enough sense to build all these temples, he had a brain, and a smart one at that. He probably didn’t want to let the local tribal people have any chance of walking in one of his temples and destroying one. My sources didn’t mention anything the slaves being Force sensitive, so perhaps this man thought the only people worthy of coming inside. I unfocused my eyes and refocus them on the door again, trying to look for clues. The décor on the door and around the doorframe was alien to me. Still, the door seemed to speak power and dominance. I went back to the door and felt around the rough cold stone. My hand came across a hidden in the texture the outline of a circle, the size of my finger pad. I pressed hard. Nothing worked. I kicked the door hard and cursed my already sore, now pounding foot. I slide down to the ground and hide my face in my hands and knees, trying not to cry. I couldn’t stand this. I wanted to disappear from everything and everyone. I wanted this to end. I wanted to die. In the middle of my thoughts, the threatening clouds reminded me I had to get inside. I stood up and thumbed the circle slowly and then pressed the middle in a mindless way. To my surprise, the door opened. I walked into and was plunged into pure darkness.
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Post by snowind on Sept 3, 2007 21:03:49 GMT -5
I wanna see if she lets a little evil inside come out to play, that would be nice.
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Post by JediKaren on Sept 4, 2007 21:50:42 GMT -5
It was dark, very dark. I blinked, but that didn’t do a thing. If my hand was numb and centimeters from my face, I would have been clueless it was there, that how dark it was. The temple was deathly quiet, like someone holding their breath. I found myself hissing in pain because my feet screamed at me that there was too much weight on them. There was no point in waiting for my eyesight to adjust. Along with my feet, my throat was dry and sore, my stomach wanted dinner and I had another dull, painful headache. If there was any water in this dreadful place, I had no change of finding some until I could see. As for food, I told myself that I could survive a day or two without food. Finally, it dawned on me that I hadn’t slept for near twenty four hours and my body could not stand anything more. Mirroring my early move, I pressed my back to the scratchy, mildew walk, slid down, curled up into a ball, and lost conscious thought.
Some unknown time I woke up quite suddenly. There was something wrong. I couldn’t put the feeling into words, but my skin crawled, my neck hairs stood on end, and every last part of me told me to run, get away and never return. Run away from what was something I couldn’t answer. The room was dark, but sunlight peeked through cracks and through unseen holes, dappling the room with hints of what lay inside.
The room seemed to be big, judging how my breathing bounced off the walls. Not like the outside of the temple, there was any kind of carvings or details on the walls. I stood up and took a few steps into the middle of the room. Perhaps it was because my nerves hadn’t recovered from all the drama, but I found an unexplainable need to watch my back, turn in place, and nearly jump at ever tiny sound of a rodent scurrying by. The worst, spookiest feeling was in the air. The air seemed to feel alive, oozing a twisted and noxious personality, like death. Unheard, silent voice whispered in my ear no words. From the opposite wall with the entrance was a door way that was simple and inviting. I saw no trap or trick, so I went in.
This room had the same feeling and looks as the other room, but still was noticeable different. The best way I could describe the room was to call it a throne. There was very little of interest in the room except for the steep, narrow stairs that lead up to a platform and on the platform was a great stone chair set high above, over looking the rest of the room. A strange fearless curiosity took over me. I slowly climbed the stairs, with easy and half unconscious of what was going on. When I reached the platform, standing in front of the mighty chair that seemed to radiate power, both immense and malevolence, I snapped out my short lived trance.
“Sit down.”
The voice came from behind the chair, making the chair seem alive. I stared at the chair, ready to swear I knew who that voice belonged to. The mere thought of the owner took my breath away, making me feel meek and venerable. I moved my head to the right, trying to see if my guess was right.
“Sit you should.”
A green, pointy ear poked out from the chair, instantly confirming my guess and sending me into even more startled frame of mind. There was no ghostly, see through look to the green, lined with age and wisdom face that followed the ear. I unconsciously took a step back. How could he be here? Why was he here? He said nothing, but pointy looked from the seat to me. I took the hint and sat down on the cold stone bench, on the far side of the person next to me.
“Expecting you, I have.”
I looked at him in surprise. Not only was he presence confusing the heck out of me, but now he claimed he knew I would come? He knew I would fall into the river, but make it out alive? He knew that I would run like a coward from the Jedi? He knew I would find this temple and walk into this very room? It was incredible to believe. I should my head in disbelief.
“You think I am not a great Jedi?”
Horror at my stupid and rude mistake filled me. I found my voice to reinsure him that I dearly thought he was the greatest Jedi that ever lived, far greater than any living now. He nodded his head and looked at me approvingly and with certain affection. My heart skipped a beat.
“Of course I am. The longest living Jedi I am. Trained and trained many others I have.”
I nodded in agreement, thinking how Luke was his last student and in the darkness of my mind, wish it had been me. I was, by far, the better student.
“I have been watching you.”
I held my tongue, not trusting myself to say something profound or something to make myself look good.
“Served on a council I did, you know.”
Again, I nodded. If he knew me, then surely he knew I knew this. What was his point? I leaned towards him.
“ I judged who was worthy of being a Jedi. Who should be trained.”
I was growing highly impatiently. Obviously he did this and obviously he was going to say something about how I was better than the other Jedi he judged.
“Hmm, interested are you? Why?”
I nearly fell off the chair. Why was he teasing me, playing this stupid game? Why trap me into admitting my feelings to him if he knew me? With a deep, certain breath, I dared to ask him what he thought of me. He looked away for a moment and turned his face, blank and unreadable as the carvings on the outside walls. When he spoke there seemed to be a loud voice of disgust and anger that hit me in the heart.
“A Jedi you have never been.”
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Post by snowind on Sept 5, 2007 13:23:09 GMT -5
OM*freaking*G!!! Yoda's Ghost or something like that!!! Ahh!!!!
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Post by leethal on Sept 6, 2007 7:33:37 GMT -5
great, in all, you weren't mocking me after all and yoda is back! like the terminator!
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