I'm redesigning Kian Shekk.
That's right.
No, I wouldn't ever touch his personality.
But I would touch his face.
Well, after Gnawthrul scarred Kian up, his face is pretty much a nightmare. So I took the liberty of redesigning him. No, he's still scarred up just as much as before, but I redesigned him before he was scarred. And just as a side note, if anyone ever was wondering what Kian does look exactly like with his scars, his face is basically just masked in a bunch of deep lichtenberg scars, which look kind of ugly but are actually cool in a very disturbing way too.
I took the liberty of drawing a picture of him, too, which came out perfect - for what I was imagining, anyway.
Okay, so, just as a warning, he looks a bit like a cross between Anakin Skywalker from Star Wars (duh) and Zuko from Avatar: The Last Airbender.
And sorry about the distortion and bad quality . . . it looks better on paper.
And if you haven't read the latest posts of CaC2, Djo gave him the scar/burn on the right side of his face. So he has elements of before and after Gnawthrul electrocuted him, just because I didn't want to draw all the cracks in his face after electrocution. I just felt like this was the way I should draw him.
~Warrior
Showing posts with label Nightmares in the Past. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Nightmares in the Past. Show all posts
Wednesday, 4 December 2013
Wednesday, 13 November 2013
Nightmares in the Past - Chapter 2
Chapter 1, Part 1 - Chapter 1, Part 2 - Chapter 2 -
(I know this chapter isn't quite as polished as the previous one, but I get cranky when I'm writing Star Wars action scenes . . . me and sci-fi-battles-that-are-more-like-fantasy-fights don't blend well . . . Anyway, I know most of you have probably already read it on my blog, just posting it here in case you didn't see it. I'll be posting chapter three tomorrow or the next day.)
He towered seven feet tall, strapped in Togorian hides and shined Mandalorian armor. True stone grey eyes, long braided black hair and an unruly, full beard falling down to his silver bone belt buckle. His arms were like logs, chest like a boulder, muscle like iron, boasting decades of merciless training. A fiery red saber was clutched in one meaty fist, and a rain blue blade in the other.
But it wasn’t any of that which overrode the air with a distinct but foreign sense. It was something else, something far more overwhelming.
Cruel power, peaceful as the eye of a hurricane, but angry as a bubbling volcano. An unwholesome presence, yet so welcoming, so drawing. It was a writhing stench in the air, hideous and snapping, yet it lured. It was something far more powerful and mysterious than anything Kian had felt before, and yet somehow, it seemed as if he had felt it before.
It was the darkside.
Kian and Kim were frozen as the Sith stalked one step closer - as the Jedi Order came one step closer to the death of two young children. As much as he tried, nothing in Kian’s body responded. Nothing. Kim whimpered and struggled at his side. They were at the will of the stone grey eyes.
Kim’s training saber shot to life, and she willed herself to take a step forward. Kian steadied his ragged breath, believing that if Kim could do it, he could. His own small saber blazed out. And they stood, blocking the hallway.
Step by ringing step, the Sith quickly spanned the hallway in his long strides. Two lightsaber lengths away, he stopped. A grin spread over his pale lips. “Welcome to Uncle Omar’s ride. Have a nice trip.”
And with the sweep of sabers, a red and blue streak rushed toward the unprotected younglings. Their practice sabers wavered uselessly at their sides. Blood was about to be spilt.
Suddenly, the Sith shrieked and pulled away from the younglings, crashing a dozen yards away against the wall. Kian’s mouth fell wide open. He spun around to see what might have caused the Sith’s reaction.
But it was no reaction at all. Kian’s father, Keith, stood heaving for breath behind them, hand extended, eyes closed.
“Daddy?” Kian’s practice saber dropped to the floor.
There was no time for a response. The Sith rose swiftly and hurled himself at the younglings.
“Watch out!” Keith rasped, twirling out his saber from behind and making a leap for the two children.
Kim screamed.
Kian dropped to the ground, whimpering.
Keith let loose a battle cry.
The follower of the Light and the follower of the Dark met in midair, above the younglings. With a lightning spark, three sabers met, and slid across.
They had jumped clear over Kian and Kim, sliding blades as they did, before landing on the other side. Places reversed, the Sith leapt again, and Keith did likewise.
The sabers sparked off of each other again, raining a shower of red, blue, and green lights onto the younglings, sending burns through their clothing. Kian yelped and squirmed to the side of the hall.
“Get out of here!” Keith shrieked, meeting the Sith in the air a third time, this one followed with a hard kick into the stomach. The Sith sprawled backwards, but quickly regained his footing. Keith was between the Sith and Kian and Kim now, and the blaze of sabers began.
“GET OUT OF HERE!!!”
Kim broke her eyes from the sparring warriors and grabbed hold of Kian’s hand, pulling him down the hall. She kept one hand on her saber though, pointing it at the Sith defiantly. Kian resisted though, and picked up his own practice saber. “We needa to help him!” he whispered urgently.
“But we’re just younglings!” Kim opposed.
Kian’s shoulders sagged. He knew that was the truth. Just younglings. Nothing special. Nothing even up to average. Just younglings. They couldn’t fight. And if Kim even said that, then it must have been dreadfully clear.
Kian suddenly turned off his saber and wrested his hand from Kim. “But we can do one thing - run for help!” His words hadn’t left his lips by the time he and Kim were flying down the halls. Before turning the corner, he glanced back to the two Force-wielders.
Maybe he wasn’t doing the right thing. What if it was all wrong? What if daddy was going to die? No, that couldn’t happen. It couldn’t.
Kian snapped his eyes shut feeling the Force surge through his limbs. It wasn’t that he knew the Temple that well, with its myriad halls and rooms and stairs. No, the Force was guiding him, powering him, blurring him into the flashing walls.
He had to reach help in time. He had to. His daddy’s life depended on it.
Suddenly, he crashed into something hard and flipped high into the air, over the object and falling on the other side of it. Moaning and peaking open his eyes, he saw Padawan Ina, dazed and stumbling. She glanced about the room for the cause, her eyes finally locking onto Kian.
Her expression of caution and shock fell away and she began to laugh. “Kian? What are you do-?”
Kian jumped to his feet. “My daddy is in trouble, you needa help him!”
Kim came racing up behind, panting hard. Kian wasn’t in the least out of breath, even from falling hard on his stomach - something which should have taken the wind out of him. Master Tharalia, Ina’s Master, kneeled beside Kian, placing a hand on his shoulder. “Where is your father, Kian?”
The youngling pointed hurriedly down the hall. “Down there, down there!” he nearly jumped off the floor as he shouted. What if something were to happen to his daddy? It would all be his fault. He had almost forced his daddy to fight the evil Sith, and if he died, it would be all his fault. No . . . it couldn’t happen . . . it just couldn’t.
Ina and Tharalia dashed off down the hall. Kian and Kim raced after, several yards behind. They twisted through the halls, dodged pillars, up staircases, through rooms and at last turned the final corner.
The halls, once mixed in light greens and rich browns, was blackened and saber scarred. Pieces of the wall were torn open, another room was exposed. And still, the two battled on fiercely.
Master Tharalia slid to a stop as she rounded the corner. “Darth Omar,” she murmured. Blazing her saber to life, she held up a hand behind her. “Ina, stay back. Master Keith and I will handle this.” She jumped into the battle, confronting the Sith from behind. Ina nevertheless drew her saber and ignited it’s angry orange blade.
Darth Omar quickly retaliated to Master Tharalia’s sudden appearance. Blocking her strike with his blue saber, he laid a kick hard into Keith’s chest, effectively knocking him down the hall and taking out his breath.
Kian, Kim, and Ina looked on, eyes wide, gripping their sabers. “We have to help them!” Kim urgently whispered.
Ina blocked them from the fight. “No, stay back you two. If you tried to fight, you would only be a burden for them to protect. Master Keith and Tharalia are experienced.” She stared on, gripping her saber. Her body was jittery, she was shaking. “This Sith will not succeed.” She winced as Keith sprawled away from the fight. Her very tone was betraying that she was doubting it.
Omar’s sabers fell upon Tharalia’s. She jumped back, parrying blows and slipping into a defensive Jedi form. She slowly began to back up down the hall towards her padawan and the younglings. Suddenly, Omar pulled a tile from the wall and sent it crashing into Tharalia as Omar sensed Keith racing towards him from behind.
Ina raced towards her Master, caught under the metallic tile. She Force-pushed it off of the Jedi and kneeled beside her. “Master Tharalia?”
Kian jumped over to the wounded Master Tharalia, but kept his eyes on the battle. Spinning around, Omar met Keith as the Jedi opened into an intense flurry of Juyo form blows. He pressed down on the Sith like a raging torrent. The Sith growled as a burn swiped through his fur hides, biting into his shoulder.
Keith sent a Force-push down into Omar, crushing him to the floor, but the Sith didn’t hesitate and quickly rolled to the side. He lurched away from the fight towards Kian, Kim, and Ina.
Kian shrieked and tried to run, but stumbled and fell to the ground. He glanced back. Omar was in the air, speeding down at him. Kian whimpered and curled up, his eyes shut tight. What if he was going to die? What then? Had his life been all in vain? No, if this would be the end, it wouldn’t just be in vain. It would be pointless.
Suddenly, there was a female shout, a crash that shook the room, and a male’s growl.
Kian’s eyes snapped open. Omar lay crushed half through the wall into another room. Ina lay limp on top of him. Kian gasped and struggled to his feet. Ina had jumped at Omar, pushing him away from the two younglings with a cry - they were saved for a moment, but would it come with a price?
“Ina!” Keith shouted, struggling towards her.
Omar’s stunned body suddenly lit to life. He thrust Ina off of him, then grasped his sabers. A malicious grin grew over his face. He struggled to his feet, using the wall as support. “Two down, three to go.” He locked into a vicious struggle against Keith as the sabers met into a deadlock.
Kian’s body shook. Sweat poured off his forehead. He glanced to Ina’s thin, limp body. She had saved his life, but now . . .
Kian jumped over to Kim then grabbed her by the arm and pulled her to her feet. “What do we do?!” Kian wailed.
His father’s voice echoed out from the battle. “Kian! I told you to flee, this is no place for a youngling!”
Kian glanced to Kim. He couldn’t. He couldn’t leave. What if the Sith won? What if Keith was . . . A shiver went up Kian’s spine.
“No . . . no . . . no, that can’t happen!” he murmured. But he began to pull away nonetheless. He grabbed Kim by the arm, but she wouldn’t budge.
“KIAN!!! KIM!!!” Keith screamed, jumping back as Omar’s over-powering strength finally won in the deadlock. Blocking one strike, Keith switched his saber to his left hand and sent a blast of the Force at Kian and Kim, sending them down the hall. Kim gave in, and the two younglings began to run for safety.
Kian glanced back, his eyes wide, glistening with fear.
While Keith was distracted by forcing the younglings along their way, Omar had took advantage with a flurry of blows.
Kian stopped again. Omar sent a high kick into Keith’s neck. The Jedi fell to the floor, his saber scattering away as he grappled at his throat, choking.
“DADDY!!!” Kian screamed and lifted a hand as if to touch his father from a distance.
And then the cold stone eyes lifted from Keith once more to Kian. “Kian . . . Kian . . . isn’t it Kian?” Omar’s sabers blazed off. With one hand he lifted Keith into the air and with the other he lifted a steel bar, placed Keith under it, then dropped the bar, securing both Tharalia and Keith under it. He quickly collected the two Jedi’s sabers.
“Kian. That is your name, tell me it is.” Omar’s grating voice echoed through the silent hall. Kim had stopped by Kian’s side, and they exchanged worried glances.
Nonetheless, Kian instinctively nodded. “H-how d-d’you know m-my name?”
“Oh, don’t be so afraid, my little one.” A grin grew across the Sith’s face. “I won’t kill you. Now that I know your name.” He began to talk careful, deliberate steps across the battle-torn hall. He lifted Kian and Kim off the ground with the Force. They didn’t struggle, they just submitted to their fate, heads rolling back and their unsupported limbs falling like wilted lettuce.
Omar brought them within feet of his eyes, and there they stopped in midair. He glanced to the right, to the Jedi Knights trapped under debris. Tharalia and Keith’s eyes began to flutter open, weakly, despairingly.
No power remained in Keith. He was battered and bruised, but as he saw Kian hanging in the air, he began to shake and fill with an energy fulled by a temper. “NO!!!” he shrieked, struggling under the steel. But he simply flailed without strength.
A cold smile lit Omar’s face.
“And now, I’ve won.”
No sooner had the words been uttered than an orange glow emanated up through his chest from behind. His eyes snapped wide. His mouth fell open, and a wheezy noise hissed out of his throat.
Kian and Kim dropped to the ground, but Omar stood in the same position he had been in - faced towards the Jedi Knights, hands raised.
All eyes lingered on the shocked Sith. And then he crumpled to the side and fell with a clatter. In his place kneeled padawan Ina, she was frozen there for a moment, still holding her brilliant saber pointed to the sky, her matted light red hair stained with blood. She collapsed to the floor in exhaustion.
(I know this chapter isn't quite as polished as the previous one, but I get cranky when I'm writing Star Wars action scenes . . . me and sci-fi-battles-that-are-more-like-fantasy-fights don't blend well . . . Anyway, I know most of you have probably already read it on my blog, just posting it here in case you didn't see it. I'll be posting chapter three tomorrow or the next day.)
He towered seven feet tall, strapped in Togorian hides and shined Mandalorian armor. True stone grey eyes, long braided black hair and an unruly, full beard falling down to his silver bone belt buckle. His arms were like logs, chest like a boulder, muscle like iron, boasting decades of merciless training. A fiery red saber was clutched in one meaty fist, and a rain blue blade in the other.
But it wasn’t any of that which overrode the air with a distinct but foreign sense. It was something else, something far more overwhelming.
Cruel power, peaceful as the eye of a hurricane, but angry as a bubbling volcano. An unwholesome presence, yet so welcoming, so drawing. It was a writhing stench in the air, hideous and snapping, yet it lured. It was something far more powerful and mysterious than anything Kian had felt before, and yet somehow, it seemed as if he had felt it before.
It was the darkside.
Kian and Kim were frozen as the Sith stalked one step closer - as the Jedi Order came one step closer to the death of two young children. As much as he tried, nothing in Kian’s body responded. Nothing. Kim whimpered and struggled at his side. They were at the will of the stone grey eyes.
Kim’s training saber shot to life, and she willed herself to take a step forward. Kian steadied his ragged breath, believing that if Kim could do it, he could. His own small saber blazed out. And they stood, blocking the hallway.
Step by ringing step, the Sith quickly spanned the hallway in his long strides. Two lightsaber lengths away, he stopped. A grin spread over his pale lips. “Welcome to Uncle Omar’s ride. Have a nice trip.”
And with the sweep of sabers, a red and blue streak rushed toward the unprotected younglings. Their practice sabers wavered uselessly at their sides. Blood was about to be spilt.
Suddenly, the Sith shrieked and pulled away from the younglings, crashing a dozen yards away against the wall. Kian’s mouth fell wide open. He spun around to see what might have caused the Sith’s reaction.
But it was no reaction at all. Kian’s father, Keith, stood heaving for breath behind them, hand extended, eyes closed.
“Daddy?” Kian’s practice saber dropped to the floor.
There was no time for a response. The Sith rose swiftly and hurled himself at the younglings.
“Watch out!” Keith rasped, twirling out his saber from behind and making a leap for the two children.
Kim screamed.
Kian dropped to the ground, whimpering.
Keith let loose a battle cry.
The follower of the Light and the follower of the Dark met in midair, above the younglings. With a lightning spark, three sabers met, and slid across.
They had jumped clear over Kian and Kim, sliding blades as they did, before landing on the other side. Places reversed, the Sith leapt again, and Keith did likewise.
The sabers sparked off of each other again, raining a shower of red, blue, and green lights onto the younglings, sending burns through their clothing. Kian yelped and squirmed to the side of the hall.
“Get out of here!” Keith shrieked, meeting the Sith in the air a third time, this one followed with a hard kick into the stomach. The Sith sprawled backwards, but quickly regained his footing. Keith was between the Sith and Kian and Kim now, and the blaze of sabers began.
“GET OUT OF HERE!!!”
Kim broke her eyes from the sparring warriors and grabbed hold of Kian’s hand, pulling him down the hall. She kept one hand on her saber though, pointing it at the Sith defiantly. Kian resisted though, and picked up his own practice saber. “We needa to help him!” he whispered urgently.
“But we’re just younglings!” Kim opposed.
Kian’s shoulders sagged. He knew that was the truth. Just younglings. Nothing special. Nothing even up to average. Just younglings. They couldn’t fight. And if Kim even said that, then it must have been dreadfully clear.
Kian suddenly turned off his saber and wrested his hand from Kim. “But we can do one thing - run for help!” His words hadn’t left his lips by the time he and Kim were flying down the halls. Before turning the corner, he glanced back to the two Force-wielders.
Maybe he wasn’t doing the right thing. What if it was all wrong? What if daddy was going to die? No, that couldn’t happen. It couldn’t.
Kian snapped his eyes shut feeling the Force surge through his limbs. It wasn’t that he knew the Temple that well, with its myriad halls and rooms and stairs. No, the Force was guiding him, powering him, blurring him into the flashing walls.
He had to reach help in time. He had to. His daddy’s life depended on it.
Suddenly, he crashed into something hard and flipped high into the air, over the object and falling on the other side of it. Moaning and peaking open his eyes, he saw Padawan Ina, dazed and stumbling. She glanced about the room for the cause, her eyes finally locking onto Kian.
Her expression of caution and shock fell away and she began to laugh. “Kian? What are you do-?”
Kian jumped to his feet. “My daddy is in trouble, you needa help him!”
Kim came racing up behind, panting hard. Kian wasn’t in the least out of breath, even from falling hard on his stomach - something which should have taken the wind out of him. Master Tharalia, Ina’s Master, kneeled beside Kian, placing a hand on his shoulder. “Where is your father, Kian?”
The youngling pointed hurriedly down the hall. “Down there, down there!” he nearly jumped off the floor as he shouted. What if something were to happen to his daddy? It would all be his fault. He had almost forced his daddy to fight the evil Sith, and if he died, it would be all his fault. No . . . it couldn’t happen . . . it just couldn’t.
Ina and Tharalia dashed off down the hall. Kian and Kim raced after, several yards behind. They twisted through the halls, dodged pillars, up staircases, through rooms and at last turned the final corner.
The halls, once mixed in light greens and rich browns, was blackened and saber scarred. Pieces of the wall were torn open, another room was exposed. And still, the two battled on fiercely.
Master Tharalia slid to a stop as she rounded the corner. “Darth Omar,” she murmured. Blazing her saber to life, she held up a hand behind her. “Ina, stay back. Master Keith and I will handle this.” She jumped into the battle, confronting the Sith from behind. Ina nevertheless drew her saber and ignited it’s angry orange blade.
Darth Omar quickly retaliated to Master Tharalia’s sudden appearance. Blocking her strike with his blue saber, he laid a kick hard into Keith’s chest, effectively knocking him down the hall and taking out his breath.
Kian, Kim, and Ina looked on, eyes wide, gripping their sabers. “We have to help them!” Kim urgently whispered.
Ina blocked them from the fight. “No, stay back you two. If you tried to fight, you would only be a burden for them to protect. Master Keith and Tharalia are experienced.” She stared on, gripping her saber. Her body was jittery, she was shaking. “This Sith will not succeed.” She winced as Keith sprawled away from the fight. Her very tone was betraying that she was doubting it.
Omar’s sabers fell upon Tharalia’s. She jumped back, parrying blows and slipping into a defensive Jedi form. She slowly began to back up down the hall towards her padawan and the younglings. Suddenly, Omar pulled a tile from the wall and sent it crashing into Tharalia as Omar sensed Keith racing towards him from behind.
Ina raced towards her Master, caught under the metallic tile. She Force-pushed it off of the Jedi and kneeled beside her. “Master Tharalia?”
Kian jumped over to the wounded Master Tharalia, but kept his eyes on the battle. Spinning around, Omar met Keith as the Jedi opened into an intense flurry of Juyo form blows. He pressed down on the Sith like a raging torrent. The Sith growled as a burn swiped through his fur hides, biting into his shoulder.
Keith sent a Force-push down into Omar, crushing him to the floor, but the Sith didn’t hesitate and quickly rolled to the side. He lurched away from the fight towards Kian, Kim, and Ina.
Kian shrieked and tried to run, but stumbled and fell to the ground. He glanced back. Omar was in the air, speeding down at him. Kian whimpered and curled up, his eyes shut tight. What if he was going to die? What then? Had his life been all in vain? No, if this would be the end, it wouldn’t just be in vain. It would be pointless.
Suddenly, there was a female shout, a crash that shook the room, and a male’s growl.
Kian’s eyes snapped open. Omar lay crushed half through the wall into another room. Ina lay limp on top of him. Kian gasped and struggled to his feet. Ina had jumped at Omar, pushing him away from the two younglings with a cry - they were saved for a moment, but would it come with a price?
“Ina!” Keith shouted, struggling towards her.
Omar’s stunned body suddenly lit to life. He thrust Ina off of him, then grasped his sabers. A malicious grin grew over his face. He struggled to his feet, using the wall as support. “Two down, three to go.” He locked into a vicious struggle against Keith as the sabers met into a deadlock.
Kian’s body shook. Sweat poured off his forehead. He glanced to Ina’s thin, limp body. She had saved his life, but now . . .
Kian jumped over to Kim then grabbed her by the arm and pulled her to her feet. “What do we do?!” Kian wailed.
His father’s voice echoed out from the battle. “Kian! I told you to flee, this is no place for a youngling!”
Kian glanced to Kim. He couldn’t. He couldn’t leave. What if the Sith won? What if Keith was . . . A shiver went up Kian’s spine.
“No . . . no . . . no, that can’t happen!” he murmured. But he began to pull away nonetheless. He grabbed Kim by the arm, but she wouldn’t budge.
“KIAN!!! KIM!!!” Keith screamed, jumping back as Omar’s over-powering strength finally won in the deadlock. Blocking one strike, Keith switched his saber to his left hand and sent a blast of the Force at Kian and Kim, sending them down the hall. Kim gave in, and the two younglings began to run for safety.
Kian glanced back, his eyes wide, glistening with fear.
While Keith was distracted by forcing the younglings along their way, Omar had took advantage with a flurry of blows.
Kian stopped again. Omar sent a high kick into Keith’s neck. The Jedi fell to the floor, his saber scattering away as he grappled at his throat, choking.
“DADDY!!!” Kian screamed and lifted a hand as if to touch his father from a distance.
And then the cold stone eyes lifted from Keith once more to Kian. “Kian . . . Kian . . . isn’t it Kian?” Omar’s sabers blazed off. With one hand he lifted Keith into the air and with the other he lifted a steel bar, placed Keith under it, then dropped the bar, securing both Tharalia and Keith under it. He quickly collected the two Jedi’s sabers.
“Kian. That is your name, tell me it is.” Omar’s grating voice echoed through the silent hall. Kim had stopped by Kian’s side, and they exchanged worried glances.
Nonetheless, Kian instinctively nodded. “H-how d-d’you know m-my name?”
“Oh, don’t be so afraid, my little one.” A grin grew across the Sith’s face. “I won’t kill you. Now that I know your name.” He began to talk careful, deliberate steps across the battle-torn hall. He lifted Kian and Kim off the ground with the Force. They didn’t struggle, they just submitted to their fate, heads rolling back and their unsupported limbs falling like wilted lettuce.
Omar brought them within feet of his eyes, and there they stopped in midair. He glanced to the right, to the Jedi Knights trapped under debris. Tharalia and Keith’s eyes began to flutter open, weakly, despairingly.
No power remained in Keith. He was battered and bruised, but as he saw Kian hanging in the air, he began to shake and fill with an energy fulled by a temper. “NO!!!” he shrieked, struggling under the steel. But he simply flailed without strength.
A cold smile lit Omar’s face.
“And now, I’ve won.”
No sooner had the words been uttered than an orange glow emanated up through his chest from behind. His eyes snapped wide. His mouth fell open, and a wheezy noise hissed out of his throat.
Kian and Kim dropped to the ground, but Omar stood in the same position he had been in - faced towards the Jedi Knights, hands raised.
All eyes lingered on the shocked Sith. And then he crumpled to the side and fell with a clatter. In his place kneeled padawan Ina, she was frozen there for a moment, still holding her brilliant saber pointed to the sky, her matted light red hair stained with blood. She collapsed to the floor in exhaustion.
Monday, 14 October 2013
Kian Shekk - Nightmares in the Past
Nightmares in the Past is the Work in Progress name of Kian Shekk's tale during his younger years (from ages 7 to 11).
Part 1, Chapter 1 - Part 2, Chapter 1
A rumble, in the distance, yet so close. Shots echoed far away, yet so near. Kian shivered and huddled up against Master Kaleeth’s side. What was happening out there, beyond those silver-blue blast doors? The Sith were coming - the Sith. Cruel, evil men, shrouded in darkness. They were mysteries. The Lightside showed, the Darkside hid. Even old Master Ora said that.
Another youngling whimpered, the old Master Kaleeth hugged the boy tight, shushing him comfortingly. Kian glanced around the room. Fear was rife in all of them, even Kian’s young seven year old eyes could see that. All, that is, but in Kim. She stood defiantly at the blastdoors, hands on her hips and a chin raised determinedly.
Throwing back his shoulders and setting his jaw, Kian wobbled over to his friend at the doors. They mutually stared at them for a moment, before Kian finally turned. “What’s happening out there?” His young voice was shaky and unsettled.
Kim continued to stare forward. “My cousin is out there.”
“Padawan Ina?” Kian asked, looking at the doors with worry.
Kim nodded. “What if . . . what if something happened to her?”
Kian’s eyes widened. “Do you mean, like . . .?” Death wasn’t a subject the Masters taught younglings. But in times of war, it was always there. It hung above, always there, always.
Kim’s lower lip trembled. Kian glanced over to her, and saw something in her big blue eyes, a drastic spark of life.
“We have to do something.” She turned to him, staring hard. His little understanding of the world was enough though. Time for talk was over. Time for action was beginning.
“You mean, go out there? D’you think that would be fun?” Kian asked.
Kim crossed her arms, rearranging the youngling training lightsaber at her side. “It’s not a question of fun or not fun.”
“It isn’t?” Kian asked. “Why would we go out there then?” He glanced down at his own practice saber, his brow scrunching.
Kim turned away from the doors. “Because something bad is going on. I once heard of an evil Sithman who destroyed an entire world with the squeeze of his hand while he was in a cockpit in space.”
Kian gasped and glanced around the room feverishly. “What? Nuttuh! No way! Who was that guy?” Was that true? How could it be?
“Darth Ohmy,” Kim replied with a fierce curve in her brow.
“You mean Darth Yomar?” Kian scratched his forehead. “He didn’t crush a planet, I heard he just threw an asteroid into the capital city.”
Kim made a throaty growl, but dismissed the subject. Grabbing him by the hand, Kim then rushed into a hallway of the clan house that led into a circular room, one of the sleeping stations branching off that of the main clan house area. It was the girl’s bedding room, lined with dozens of cots, dressers, mirrors, and some other necessities. Kim glanced back to the main room, where the majority of younglings crowded around Kaleeth, who continued to comfort the children unbeknownst of Kian and Kim.
Kim turned back, ran to a dresser, and started pulling it away from the wall. Kian ran over to her. “What’re you doing?”
Kim pulled a moment longer, before letting go of it and pointing behind the dresser, struggling to reclaim her breath. “If you’d just help me, we could get to the vendilnation thing.”
“It’s not called the vendilnation!” screeched Kian. “I heard Ina say it was called the ventul-ation.”
“My cousin isn’t dumb enough to call it that!” cried Kim.
Kian gasped. “Are you callin’ me dumb?!”
“What?!” Kim cried. “Why’d you think I did? You’re my friend, I wouldn’t ever call you that.”
“Because, well . . .” Kian cocked his eyebrow and tilted his head.
Kim growled and grabbed him by the shoulder, then rushed behind the dresser and ducked under the low rim of the ventilation pipe.
Kian giggled and squirmed with excitement. “Just like in the good stories!” He followed after Kim, falling to all fours as he entered the super secret passageway - of sorts.
They continued further in until Kim decided that they were a good distance away from the clan house. She pushed another grate out of the way and they stumbled out of the pipe.
Kian sneezed as he stood upright, dust flying all about the room. He sniffled, then look at his dimly lit surroundings. “A storage room?” he questioned.
Kim wouldn’t waste any time though, and she opened the door, letting in a stream of light into a hallway. “C’mon!” she yelled, surging out already, Kian following. After a few minutes of steady running, Kian grasped at his side and leaned up against the wall, struggling for breath. “We needa . . . break.”
Kim glanced down the hallway again eagerly, but then sighed and came to a stop. “You needa break.”
Kian’s eyes went wide. “Nuttuh! You’re just as tired as-”
Suddenly, they both froze.
A shriek, faint and a long distance away - but it was still the distinct cry of a man in pain, in death.
“Wh-what w-was that?” a sharp feeling of hurt - of fear - rose up in Kian. Whoever that was out there was dying. It was a stagnant ache in the air. Another scream. Closer to death now. Kian’s heart throbbed, he edged closer to Kim and hugged himself.
Kim’s eyes darted about the hallway and she grasped the training lightsaber at her side.
The two huddled against each other, their fearful eyes peering down the hall.
Metallic footsteps. The far off hum of a lightsaber.
Kian’s heart leapt and he choked as he attempted to swallow. His hand shook as he grasped onto his own small training saber.
A second saber hummed to life and within seconds the two clashed.
Kian glanced around the hall for the source - but to no avail. What was happening out there? Where was it? Somewhere near, there was no doubt of that.
Another ghostly scream as a lightsaber muffled under a cover of flesh.
A Sith and a Jedi. They had battled, that was clear to Kian. But who had won? Who had fallen?
The boots began again - but this time, over a slick surface.
Slowly, both Kian’s and Kim’s eyes were drawn towards one end of the hall, ending at a sharp corner. A heavy shadow fell upon the wall.
The two younglings backed against each other further, falling to a huddle of a ball on the floor, staring at the massive, jagged shadow. The hum of a saber grew stronger. Around the corner a shape came into view - first a bulking mass of fur and steel, and then a blue lightsaber - a blue, cold saber. The fear had not relieved itself from the children before a blood red saber appeared at its side. A full man stepped into the light.
“Ah, children,” came a stony voice from cracked, pale lips.
Kian lifted his head involuntarily until the man’s heavy eyes fell upon them like a boulder. “How typical of Jedi. Come here my wee bits - feel the power of the Sith. Embrace your fate.”
Something overcame Kian like a tidal wave. A force that emanated from the Sith. Strength, power, superiority - it was all there, right before him.
Part 1, Chapter 1 - Part 2, Chapter 1
A rumble, in the distance, yet so close. Shots echoed far away, yet so near. Kian shivered and huddled up against Master Kaleeth’s side. What was happening out there, beyond those silver-blue blast doors? The Sith were coming - the Sith. Cruel, evil men, shrouded in darkness. They were mysteries. The Lightside showed, the Darkside hid. Even old Master Ora said that.
Another youngling whimpered, the old Master Kaleeth hugged the boy tight, shushing him comfortingly. Kian glanced around the room. Fear was rife in all of them, even Kian’s young seven year old eyes could see that. All, that is, but in Kim. She stood defiantly at the blastdoors, hands on her hips and a chin raised determinedly.
Throwing back his shoulders and setting his jaw, Kian wobbled over to his friend at the doors. They mutually stared at them for a moment, before Kian finally turned. “What’s happening out there?” His young voice was shaky and unsettled.
Kim continued to stare forward. “My cousin is out there.”
“Padawan Ina?” Kian asked, looking at the doors with worry.
Kim nodded. “What if . . . what if something happened to her?”
Kian’s eyes widened. “Do you mean, like . . .?” Death wasn’t a subject the Masters taught younglings. But in times of war, it was always there. It hung above, always there, always.
Kim’s lower lip trembled. Kian glanced over to her, and saw something in her big blue eyes, a drastic spark of life.
“We have to do something.” She turned to him, staring hard. His little understanding of the world was enough though. Time for talk was over. Time for action was beginning.
“You mean, go out there? D’you think that would be fun?” Kian asked.
Kim crossed her arms, rearranging the youngling training lightsaber at her side. “It’s not a question of fun or not fun.”
“It isn’t?” Kian asked. “Why would we go out there then?” He glanced down at his own practice saber, his brow scrunching.
Kim turned away from the doors. “Because something bad is going on. I once heard of an evil Sithman who destroyed an entire world with the squeeze of his hand while he was in a cockpit in space.”
Kian gasped and glanced around the room feverishly. “What? Nuttuh! No way! Who was that guy?” Was that true? How could it be?
“Darth Ohmy,” Kim replied with a fierce curve in her brow.
“You mean Darth Yomar?” Kian scratched his forehead. “He didn’t crush a planet, I heard he just threw an asteroid into the capital city.”
Kim made a throaty growl, but dismissed the subject. Grabbing him by the hand, Kim then rushed into a hallway of the clan house that led into a circular room, one of the sleeping stations branching off that of the main clan house area. It was the girl’s bedding room, lined with dozens of cots, dressers, mirrors, and some other necessities. Kim glanced back to the main room, where the majority of younglings crowded around Kaleeth, who continued to comfort the children unbeknownst of Kian and Kim.
Kim turned back, ran to a dresser, and started pulling it away from the wall. Kian ran over to her. “What’re you doing?”
Kim pulled a moment longer, before letting go of it and pointing behind the dresser, struggling to reclaim her breath. “If you’d just help me, we could get to the vendilnation thing.”
“It’s not called the vendilnation!” screeched Kian. “I heard Ina say it was called the ventul-ation.”
“My cousin isn’t dumb enough to call it that!” cried Kim.
Kian gasped. “Are you callin’ me dumb?!”
“What?!” Kim cried. “Why’d you think I did? You’re my friend, I wouldn’t ever call you that.”
“Because, well . . .” Kian cocked his eyebrow and tilted his head.
Kim growled and grabbed him by the shoulder, then rushed behind the dresser and ducked under the low rim of the ventilation pipe.
Kian giggled and squirmed with excitement. “Just like in the good stories!” He followed after Kim, falling to all fours as he entered the super secret passageway - of sorts.
They continued further in until Kim decided that they were a good distance away from the clan house. She pushed another grate out of the way and they stumbled out of the pipe.
Kian sneezed as he stood upright, dust flying all about the room. He sniffled, then look at his dimly lit surroundings. “A storage room?” he questioned.
Kim wouldn’t waste any time though, and she opened the door, letting in a stream of light into a hallway. “C’mon!” she yelled, surging out already, Kian following. After a few minutes of steady running, Kian grasped at his side and leaned up against the wall, struggling for breath. “We needa . . . break.”
Kim glanced down the hallway again eagerly, but then sighed and came to a stop. “You needa break.”
Kian’s eyes went wide. “Nuttuh! You’re just as tired as-”
Suddenly, they both froze.
A shriek, faint and a long distance away - but it was still the distinct cry of a man in pain, in death.
“Wh-what w-was that?” a sharp feeling of hurt - of fear - rose up in Kian. Whoever that was out there was dying. It was a stagnant ache in the air. Another scream. Closer to death now. Kian’s heart throbbed, he edged closer to Kim and hugged himself.
Kim’s eyes darted about the hallway and she grasped the training lightsaber at her side.
The two huddled against each other, their fearful eyes peering down the hall.
Metallic footsteps. The far off hum of a lightsaber.
Kian’s heart leapt and he choked as he attempted to swallow. His hand shook as he grasped onto his own small training saber.
A second saber hummed to life and within seconds the two clashed.
Kian glanced around the hall for the source - but to no avail. What was happening out there? Where was it? Somewhere near, there was no doubt of that.
Another ghostly scream as a lightsaber muffled under a cover of flesh.
A Sith and a Jedi. They had battled, that was clear to Kian. But who had won? Who had fallen?
The boots began again - but this time, over a slick surface.
Slowly, both Kian’s and Kim’s eyes were drawn towards one end of the hall, ending at a sharp corner. A heavy shadow fell upon the wall.
The two younglings backed against each other further, falling to a huddle of a ball on the floor, staring at the massive, jagged shadow. The hum of a saber grew stronger. Around the corner a shape came into view - first a bulking mass of fur and steel, and then a blue lightsaber - a blue, cold saber. The fear had not relieved itself from the children before a blood red saber appeared at its side. A full man stepped into the light.
“Ah, children,” came a stony voice from cracked, pale lips.
Kian lifted his head involuntarily until the man’s heavy eyes fell upon them like a boulder. “How typical of Jedi. Come here my wee bits - feel the power of the Sith. Embrace your fate.”
Something overcame Kian like a tidal wave. A force that emanated from the Sith. Strength, power, superiority - it was all there, right before him.
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