Storms screamed across the desolate planet which echoed its own shallow sense of life and death. The dust cradled with the ground and the skies let out bursts of sickly signals showing whoever sees with their own eye— of a wretched story that would encapsulate many to come in the sonata and ruins of what was once a great standing planet that became overruled—adjourned, by the wars that followed upon it.
On such noted truths for the sad deteriorating planet, a woman, over her prime, had begun a sequence of trainings for the two men who pledged their allegiance and loyalty to her. Sion: Pain-endurer, curser of immorality and Niall: The Hunger of Pillars, precursor to destruction; titles given to them by their new master during the first few weeks of training, Kreia knew and known the power of Sion and Niall, she's seen such power demonstrated by the hands of Revan and rumors—evidence that Nomi Sunrider and Exar Kun were both outmatched with power, but these two weren't simply gifted, they were something else. She couldn't figure out the sole reason why nor would she want to know the full extent of it. Sion has proved himself doable in battle and Niall had proved himself in the directory of sorcery, during this time, she felt that Niall had been too mute only very few times did he ever speak aloud. She figured perhaps his native tongue was not like hers, or maybe he is kept to himself with the actions of speaking.
Whatever the reason, Niall couldn't be mute forever, Kreia had bolder plans for the duo, what would be weeks would turn into months and months turned into years, and she knew just as well the training would maximize their potential to the highest and only then would she put her master plan into motion, only... she had none. Not yet, anyway. She was stuck on Malachor V to train the two former Sith Assassins in the art of which she knew best, but there more than just the simple squabble of sparring and Force demonstrations.
There was philosophical lessons they needed to understand and address when they are on their own, there was steps that needed to be carefully taken to forefront the eradication of the flawed Jedi and create fortnight for the Sith's arising status to conquer the galaxy, though she knew the Sith were just as flawed as any, if not more than the Jedi, all the triumphs that could have been rewarded had they not gone against one another in jealousy or fear to lose power. To achieve victory, one must set down their power to overcome obstacles, it is not always the case to achieve victory through power while it's most definitely the case to achieve victory through will and morality in one's belief. The Jedi, the Sith, the Republic and the Sith Empire were all testimony to this, all rely on power in some form whether it be by the Sith's hunger for conquest and domination, by the Empire's quest to achieve control and enslave the masses, by the Republic's naive and consequential decisions, or by the Jedi and their petty code and moral system.
"To simply give the itch of power can turn even the most powerless into something to be afraid of." Kreia would say these words to both men as the weeks turned into months, teach them lessons they don't want to hear but need to hear. Debates between her and Sion went on as Niall only studied the movement of lips, beginning to comprehend the language more and more. Kreia was not one to lower herself to the invulnerability of darkness though if the plan threw the idea out there she wouldn't hesitate to take such a risk, regardless of how bad it could turn out. "See yourself by who you are as a moral compass. Waver the compass on opposite sides and you will be engulfed by temptation that surrounds the north, west, east and south." The blades shimmered and clashed against one another as Kreia could only study the combative force of Sion as well as Niall.
The two fought with pride and accomplishment. And they clearly were not listening to her lessons nor did they understand the prospect of dueling; in her eyes dueling was only a necessity, one should not fight with pride. Overconfidence, overestimation of ones power will always lead to major flaws within their form of style that connects them to death and such is the case with the Sith who mainly fight with pride and overconfidence, it always leaves them leeching onto life in the end and it usually ends in death. If these two were to fight with continued pride it would no doubt cast them the same fate, though it would be more so Niall than Sion. "Enough," Kreia said sternly as the two quickly disengaged their sparring match, "As you command, my master." Sion turned off his lightsaber, clipped it to his belt and kneeled down in respect. "It is good that your lightsaber skills have improved, Sion. Though do note that fighting with pride is a foolish mistake." Kreia told him, eyes crest on his gray damaged skin, "With all due respect, master. Shouldn't a Sith fight with pride, is it not logical?"
"Hah, logical," she turned around, back facing him, "Logic is a point of view. You will learn in time logic is no different than one's ability to comprehend one's mistakes." Sion gritted his teeth in frustration, "You give us puzzles at every turn—every time we train you give us some petty advice to make you seem wise or strong while, in reality, you are weak!" Niall felt rising conflict tense as Kreia turned to lift Sion in the air through the Force. "Such words you have given is testimony to your immaturity. You beckon at every lesson, it is not advice. It is your lesson!" She threw him onto his side as he scraped across the ground, she then took his lightsaber from his belt and gripped it, igniting it.
"This lightsaber clearly isn't ready to be used by you. Start from the beginning, training staffs and work your back up," Kreia told him as she examined the crimson red humming blade that ached with overuse. Sion stood back up, furious by the words, "You'd take my lightsaber away, take me back to the beginning all because I spoke truth?" Sion asked her, "Truth? Is that what you call it? It's a point of view—opinion. You have not followed my lessons and taken them into account, when you duel, you should not force yourself with pride. Lest it get the better of you, start off from the beginning and work your way back up. That is the only way you will become better," Kreia instructed him, "You can't-" Sion was cut off, "There will be no more." Kreia silenced his words as he stormed off.
Niall saw Kreia and nodded in approval. "Cursed with immortality as well as immaturity." Kreia said as she went toward her other apprentice, "You have followed my lessons and have greatly improved on skill with the Force. Use them well in the time to come." Kreia nodded as she walked back toward what was once a stronghold—now an academy. Niall looked at the view in front of him and felt the sickly breeze to give him strength, he became hungry for power, he couldn't resist the urge to try and consume through the Force. To counter such attacks, he would sit in a meditative position and focus his energy on all aspects of the world and imagine them being consumed by his growing power, it was not easy to push back and every time he would grow wary. Kreia shouldn't know what he has been hiding, he'd need her more than ever to grow his power.
The Trayus Academy. That is the name that was chosen by Darth Traya, though her real name will forever remain as Kreia, despite the Jedi connection. She admired the inner-design of the academy and admired especially, its origins, she became accustomed to Malachor V's surface during the passing months and Sion had finally learned to know that power doesn't always guarantee victory, the test of going back to basics did him well, even he knew that to be true, he just wouldn't admit to his master because of his own dignity. Niall had become stronger. The two seemed capable of taking on the Jedi yet that was only the beginning of a long process.
There'd be failures, backtracks and more training. Years would pass before they were ready to put the Jedi to their graves and let the river of a thousand fountains fall still. A ripple to strike through the very heart of the Jedi, she needed no obstacles to stand in her way, she needed no imperfections to set her back. Her own journey begins now, at the riverside of many pillars.
It became nightfall, the skies quit their daily routine of cries and slept with whatever calm they had left, the ground stopped creaking, and the air continued giving the planet a breathable atmosphere—nothing out of the ordinary for Kreia.
She had been having distant visions of parallel lives within this stream of machinations conjured up by the dead, though some visions were as real as the touch of a dying light. It wasn't certain that she'd been having premonitions for something else or that it was in fact a vision—whether it's the past or future is not for certain—Kreia began her short journey across Malachor in the hopes of finding the vision or premonition's telltale sign of fact. She set off past the Trayus Academy, on foot. It was indeed dangerous but she needn't draw the attention of the two apprentices, she needed to keep her journey separate from their eyes and mind, she hoped this journey will take twelve hours—no less. So she'd be back without them having questions to bark at her.
Cold wind gathered amongst her warm cloak, soaking the warmth with cold breeze, it brushed against her neck and onto her bare arms and hands, filling it with cool air and trying to make her tremble from it. Though Kreia was most certainly not new to such climates, she allowed the breeze to swirl around her so she could consume the cold air and turn it into her strength. Pressing on for hours, with her feet beginning to ache and her body becoming a cold corpse, she stumbled upon a pillar, it rose twenty feet, surmounting her height by miles, the pillar had stood in one piece, unaffected by the war that had taken place. There were letters she couldn't comprehend on the top and bottom and they scarcely showed purple printing of a deity she couldn't recognize. She assumed it was a pillar worshipped by religious people but, as she drew her hand and let her palm slide across the dusty surface, she felt a presence lingering inside.
Feeling for any confirmation of the pillars origin, Kreia placed her other hand on it, sliding it across the dust and scraping it off with ease. It revealed a singular wording: "Mortis" the letter was written in Basic and she finally pieced it together—the deity was presumed to be a mortal interpretation of The Father and the words she couldn't understand was most likely an ancient tongue that had created this. She closed her eyes and let her hand outstretch on the five letter word. The gaze she had on the letter changed toward the sudden movement of the pillar, an inanimate object had moved on its own. Though it was far from the strangest she's seen, she took her hand off it and stepped back. The pillar fixed its position and stood still, and suddenly in her own two eyes, saw a purple light emitting to where her figure lay still. "sitroM." A voice called through the light, saying Mortis in backwards and then beginning to conjure up a future to her eyes.
She was amazed—perplexed by such a creation. And then she remained silent as she saw the workings of the future; temples burned, Jedi's fell beneath the surface along with their old code as a new one brought itself up, many Sith after her created major events and the fall of the Republic was on the horizon as all were clueless to the endgame of a plan that started with a young boy. Then the pillar engulfed itself with the knowledge along with it, disappeared from existence, so fast she couldn't even blink in reverence to the now gone pillar.
The reflection of an ocean was on the horizon and the nameless Sith and Jedi danced with lightsabers, facing each other without ever falling into the ocean, all were emotionless, demonstrating nothing but pure skill with a lightsaber. As time passed the Jedi and Sith both bowed to one another as if they were just sparring and then the ocean turned to blood red, seething in its new victims. The moon turned to a cataclysmic event ripping the shreds of all life to pieces and tearing new worlds into one. The ripple of time seized to the catalyst and a dark figure could only grin with pleasure of tearing the galaxy apart with pale skin and wretched teeth. He was a threat to everything and then the vision slowly became nothing at all—ending with only a shard of the future now none can truly know the truth she had seen.
And when she awoke, she was—unfortunately—met with her apprentices, Niall and Sion. "What were you doing you old fool?" Sion asked as he helped her up, "I had my own, though rather short, journey. I told you about visions and premonitions and I had to be sure it wouldn't be affect our plan," Kreia explained, Sion sighed then looked at her with a calm expression, "And?" Kreia shook her head, "And, whatever it was I saw, did not reveal anything on our plan or if it succeeds." She gave him an almost quick reply if she hadn't just awoke from an otherwise mind revealing sleep, "Well, we're already out here. Might as well begin another lesson," Sion suggested to her. She nodded and took deep breaths to push back the horror of the future, she could only hope her plan could come to fruition.
"The Pillar, The Catalyst, The Blood Red Ocean," Kreia told the words herself as she mediated, concentrating on the perplexities she had weeks before. The future was now in her hands, she needed only to figure out how to make it so, as she opened her eyes she begun to see an apparition of a man wearing clad red leather, a face resembling that of a man in his prime and a lightsaber in his right hand, she couldn't gain his attention but she did see him use his lightsaber to wield off a foe, the man successfully killed the foe after few dodges and attacks, he smiled and then disappeared. As she stood up in confusion she turned head quickly toward another figure—this one a woman, reaching out with her right hand to someone's invisible hand, she had blood dripping from her stomach and an unmistakable face.
A man then stood over her and Force choked her until she lay lifeless.
She pushed open the door with the Force in an attempt to escape the madness she was witnessing,
More figures with lightsabers fought one another as if it were their final battle, cries beckoned with broken hearts and outstretched hands ended the lives of unarmed prisoners. She shook her head desperately to escape it, falling on her knees as she felt three invisible hands touch her, she looked up and saw herself, slightly older, with a lightsaber wound in her chest, "aierK." "htaeD." "ecnadiuG." Three words spoken individually as everything faded to black.
She opened her eyes again, this time escaping her mediation, shocked and unmoved by what she witnessed. "You are the Seer." A deep voice spoke to her from nowhere, stretching out with her left hand she grabbed her lightsaber and ignited it, flashing a red hue toward where the voice echoed. "What is happening?!" She spoke aloud but was met with nothing, "Answer me!" She yelled, but still nothing. She gave up, turned off her lightsaber and decided to clip it to her belt. "The Seer..." she mumbled under her breath as she took a deep breath to comprehend everything.
It stood at the final moment of training, where the two would be knighted as Sith Lords. Darth Traya awaited them to walk forth and kneel before her, she may have been plagued by visions of the future and cursed with whatever it was she unleashed but she didn't let it get in the way of her master plan and the knighting of two Sith.
"Come forth," Traya ordered as they obeyed, stepping toward her direction in the heart of Trayus Academy, the two stopped as they were in front of her and then kneeled before her, she lurched her hood back to reveal her dark side corruption. "It is time," she said, "You both have proven capable Sith, there is no doubt you'd lose against these Jedi.
You both have done well in the years," she let out her right hand to reveal the hilt of her saber firmly tightened by her grip, she ignited it and placed it before Sion's shoulder, "Sion: Pain Endurer and Curser of Immortality, I place upon you the rank of Lord, no longer will you be my apprentice, you will be a Sith Lord. The Lord of Pain." Sion's head dropped, "Thank you." Sion replied as Traya lifted her blade to his other shoulder and then crossed it over to his right shoulder once more.
Sion stood as a Lord, not as an apprentice or assassin, but as a Lord. "Niall, you have proven extraordinary skills in the art of the Force, while you lack in lightsaber combat compared to Sion, your skills with the Force is unrivaled. Because of this I officially knight you, Niall: The Hunger of Pillars, Precursor of Destruction, the titles given to you before this knighthood will no longer be apart of you. Instead it shall be something else entirely. During your time as an apprentice you have been mainly mute the deadliest are usually the mute ones therefore I give you the title and name of Darth," she paused seeing Sion looked curiously as her blade begun to reach Niall's right shoulder, "Nihilus. The Lord of Hunger." She moved her blade to his left and then criss crossed back to his right. Darth Nihilus stood before her, nodding in gratitude, "As three, we aren't just petty Force-Users," Traya began to say as she stepped back and clicked off her lightsaber, "We are one. We are The Sith Triumvirate." Traya announced as she saw the raw smile of Sion looking at her, "Today we embark on a journey that will bring about the destruction of the Jedi and then we shall set our eyes to voyages beyond what the simple eye can see." Traya continued which seemed to please Nihilus as well as Sion.
"United by one banner, by one hand and by one choice, we will bring about the end of the Jedi."
And they did for a time, but then came ambition and they wanted her out of the picture.
"Destiny has funny ways to bring new purposes." Traya said to herself as she lay beaten to a pulp, more than anticipated from the blows she had received, she sees everything now. Her future farther than the eye can see, she's a seer as well as a darth and her manipulations will play well in the long run, the Lord of Betrayal—The Betrayer to set upon a new vision, one that strips the Force into nothingness. It would do well, for her and everyone else. She knows what she must do now, her plan has now begun and the seeds have long since been planted . . .