DISCLAIMER: All characters and property of Star Wars belong to
George Lucas. This fan fiction was created solely for
entertainment and no money was made from it. Also, no copyright
or trademark infringement was intended. Any similarity to real
persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by
the author.
ARCHIVE: Master-Apprentice. Dead Padawan Society if Raven wants
it.
CATEGORY: Dead Padawan Story
RATING: PG
SUMMARY: A Master considers his apprentice
AUTHOR'S NOTES: This story was inspired by the Dead Padawan
Society stories post last Halloween. Thanks goes to all the
wonderful DPS writers for inspiring this bunny. Thanks also go
to Jedimom for beta reading. Feedback and constructive
criticism is always welcomed.
DATE: January 10, 2001
Before me kneels the embodiment of my teachings and knowledge.
Molded by my hand, taken before feet could learn to walk.
Before me kneels a boy. Broken down in body and mind by my hand
as I was broken down by my Master's hand. Rebuilt and molded
into my own image. The embodiment of all my knowledge and
learning.
He waits. Ever patient, ever diligent to my command and will.
Before me kneels my weapon. Marked by my own design. Stark
lines of red and black flowing across his body with his every
movement.
Before me kneels my failure, my oversight. He is everything I
have made, the total sum of my knowledge and failures. I have
done well in training him. He will become what I have made and
therein lies my failure.
Taken before his feet could learn to walk, all he knows is what
I have taught him. The Dark side runs strong in him, flowing
with his hatred and anger. Educated at my hand, molded by my
hand and doomed to fail by my hand.
Before me kneels a boy, body in the beginnings of puberty. I
have searched years for one such as he to become my apprentice.
My first apprentice but not my last.
The Force whispers to me in dark images. Past and Present.
Today and Tomorrow. Whispering of my success, of how the boy
will become the man I am striving to create. My failure as a
master revealed in all its glory.
He lacks the spark. That single, darkest spark grounding him in
the Dark side of the Force. He knows the Dark only through my
hands, embracing it willingly and eagerly. But he has nothing
to nurture him in the Dark, to hold him there, to wrap his
heart tightly around as in a lover's embrace. He will not turn
but he will still fail.
"What is thy bidding, my Master?"
I raise my hand towards him. He watches me, never wavering in
his gaze. Darkness flows into me, caressing me as I reach out
and grasp the fragile muscle of his heart. Closing my hand
slowly, I squeeze his heart, feeling it pulse in my hand. His
breathing catches as his heart falters, but his eyes never
leave mine. The Force surges over me, reveling in the dying
gasps of my apprentice. My hand closes tighter around the young
heart, relishing the sounds of his dying body, the pain racking
his chest as he gasps for breath, but he stays kneeling, still
staring at me, accepting his fate. Pulsing around him, through
him, the Force greedily sucks his life away as my hand firmly
closes into a fist, crushing his heart. His body falls to the
floor as I turn and walk away.
The Force murmurs to me of another boy, showing me a vision of
him sitting in his room. Model air ships float above his head
where they are anchored to the ceiling. His shoulders are
slumped in defeat and despair.
No Master has been found for such a promising spirit. One has
already turned from him as his thirteenth birthday approaches.
So promising, so strong in the Force but tossed aside as if he
was leftovers.
Darkness hovers over him, spiraling a thin tendril into him,
marking him, creating a spark to be nurtured and cherished. A
spark lacking in the cooling body lying behind me.
He will succeed where my first apprentice failed. He will not
falter. He has been abandoned, rejected by those that serve the
Light. By my hand, he will find his place firmly in the Dark,
never to be tossed aside again.
He will grow strong in the Dark side, strong enough to become
more than my weapon. He will be the one to bring the Sith back
forever. At his hands, the Jedi will fall, cast down as they
had cast him out of their embrace. At his hand, I will die and
the Sith will reign supreme.
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