Acala, Part II
Posted on Wed Jul 24th, 2019 @ 9:21pm by Amare
Edited on on Wed Jul 24th, 2019 @ 9:25pm
1,744 words; about a 9 minute read
Chapter:
Chapter V: Unbound
Location: Irrikut (?)
Timeline: Follows "Under the Hammer", but before "The Outside"
OLD
“Hey, kiddo,” said the deep voice of a man behind her. Slowly and cautiously, Coda turned and saw his face—his real face—for the first time, but by the sound of his voice, she knew exactly whom it was.
“Shadrak?!”
“How wonderful it is to see you again. Miss me?” His laughter was diabolical as he raised the sword for a killing blow.
Author's note: The following is told in first-person from the perspective of an older Amare.
NEW
Have you ever witnessed something, knowing deep down with all certainty that you never saw it before, yet somehow still feeling like you have? When you exist as one of the chosen few to bare talent in using the Force, you come to realize that such contradictions are part and parcel of our daily lives. It’s so strange to be here, watching a younger version of myself on the cusp of losing her…my head, as I have no memory of this happening to me then, and yet…my gut is screaming at the notion that it did. Such is the nature of this place. What’s present for her is my past, and what’s my present is her future.
“After twenty years, what’s yours will at last be mine!” Shadrak exclaimed before performing his dreadfully awkward executioner’s chop.
I admired Shadrak Sojoln for staying the course and sticking to his ambitions, even if they involved a toll that required my life as payment. He was quite gifted in the Force, a natural sorcerer who had no one to truly be angry at but himself. It was unfortunate for him, however, that he had reunited with me in this place unprepared, and ignorant of what I was becoming. Before this encounter, I had touched the holocron of the great Darth Bane himself, and his words were a part of me by then. Thank you, Lord Bane. You were indeed the greatest of us all. I will never stop until I am the master of your legacy.
“Rarrgh!” Such a ravenous growl as Shadrak slashed! Just like a Nightbrother to act the barbarian. You can lift the brutes out of the gutter, give them books, training in the dark arts, watch them don fancy clothes, own opulent homes, and push them towards a higher calling, but they never truly grow beyond where they come from.
Fortunately, not all men are like that. My master…so great in his resolve, masterful in his cunning, and all-powerful…yet I know what I must eventually do as his apprentice. That is why I’m here, trapped in an intersection where the rules of time and space start to lose their meaning, searching for something to give me an edge should the day come if my plots or magic fails me, and our lightsabers cross. If I am unprepared for his wrath, then I am dead. And yet, I’ve started to feel like coming here was a grave mistake. I suspect the clues in Darth Cabal’s journals may have been nothing more than a pathway towards a trap. It’s widely known truth that I’ve committed my share of unforgivable atrocities, but even I should’ve known to never trust a madman, especially one as rabid as Cabal was…
Speaking of which, Shadrak’s own madness appeared to be growing by the second. I observed his exquisite look of shock on that handsome Sephi face of his as his unstoppable strike met an unmovable, omnipresent Force. ‘Twas satisfying to watch that craven wide-eyed glare when his expectations had been so utterly and thoroughly subverted. Can you picture that same swing halted barely a few inches from its intended soft target? All that momentum brimming with wanton violent desire to swiftly cut down a young woman whom he was chained to in the undead form of a spirit for two decades. He came so close to his goal…and found himself so completely denied by fate. It wasn’t bad form, a change of heart, dumb luck, or even interference from me to help my former self—indeed, he had me dead to rights; all I could do was watch events play out.
Zaracoda’s flinch was a bit embarrassing to witness, but there is no shame in reacting with fear to one’s perceived doom, particularly when you are so young and brimming with the hunger to realize your potential. She anticipated the sudden loss of her head, and yet she lived because Shadrak failed to understand the very artifact he attempted to murder her with.
“What is happening? How are you doing this?! It’s not possible for anyone to grow so powerful in such a short time, especially a tepid worm like you!”
Poor ignorant Shadrak; the Acala isn’t a weapon. It looks like an elegant steel sword of exotic design and masterful craftsmanship; it feels like a sword too; and it’s the only reason I survived my duel with Darth Archonus so long ago. However, it is at its core it’s meant to act as a key, not to cleave flesh. The Acala is to a door as a man is to a woman, and thus it is the key to one of the most formidable doors in all the galaxy, and I believe that door is right here on Irrikut. What started in the past when the man once known as Thane taught me my first lessons as his apprentice has brought me back here full circle. Only this time I didn’t fall into the dungeon. I’m an older, wiser Sith girl now; I took the stairs.
Shradrak strained and struggled to achieve the decapitation, but tried as he might, the Acala’s edge fought him, resisted to strike its other half.
When Coda…when I originally ventured through this forgotten underground realm, I had discovered a wellspring of power. My amphibious instincts drew me to the water, but when I fell inside, a small nexus of concentrated Force energy absorbed into my body. Little did I know that the wellspring was, in fact, a tomb for a very powerful individual whose life dated back to antiquity. At great cost and effort, I obtained esoteric knowledge that described this person as a follower of the “Ashla”—a Jedi that was not formally a Jedi—and was the forger of the Acala; once a physical weapon imbued with the Force, but over the eons transformed to an incorporeal object given a higher purpose of which I can only assume was intended to serve…me. Shadrak was with me that day, and he stole most of the power from the well. I was left with a small portion, but enough to summon an incomplete Acala in times of great distress. Between Shadrak and I, we both held a piece of it, those pieces spiritually fused into our very souls. Hence, that made me its ‘other half’. One does not strike one’s sibling after all, yes? Well…perhaps you would if your name was Darth Amare, but that is a tale best forgotten. Some old wounds are never worth revisiting.
“You have been assaulted, Zara,” I called out from the shadows to my younger, less cynical self. “Don’t just stand there. Remember Nakomo’s training and defend yourself!”
Zara’s choice of a leaping front kick had a bit of that unnecessarily flashy Ataru form nonsense, but it was enough to stagger Shadrak and give my pitiful other self some space.
“Now, summon the Acala,” I instructed her knowing it wasn’t a simple suggestion. “The astral blade you used to fight off Archonus.”
“Why are you helping me?” Coda called out. It was, of course, a fair question.
Having taken a few casual swipes with my saber at her in the caves was simply my way of…motivating her. At first, I wanted her to run and get out of my sight. Irrikut is my quest, after all, and its secrets are mine alone to acquire. She should not be here; it’s not the right time for her yet. How did she come to be here in the first place? I would never set foot on this rock calling myself Coda. And how did Shadrak find this place when he…ohhh. So then…he found me with her help. When I saved Thane’s life in Darth Cabal’s cave on Vaa, the act severed the connection between Coda and Shadrak, but the Acala awakened in the younger me which later drew them back together again. They are not really here then. I was looking at their spirits. This must be happening shortly after the Mind Trap, my consciousness having just been released from it, and it Shadrak forced her to take a detour here. Blast…has it been so long already? That first adventure on Korriban felt like a lifetime ago.
“I am not trying to help you, you twit!” Shadrak snarled at Coda, apparently unaware of my presence. “You hold the other piece of this sword, and in you dwells the inheritance my mother gave to you…to YOU!. Damn her and damn all the Nightsisters! The fell-mysts of Khrysor belong to me! The legacy of Dathomir is my birthright! I guided you off Nar Shaddaa and steered you on a path to power, and then you severed the link between us and left my essence adrift on the rim of Chaos. I made everything you have possible! You ingrate. You disgust me. I told you once before in your dreams how much I wanted to kill you. I meant every word. And now, with your consciousness adrift between worlds, I used the power of this place to further restore my old form and draw your spirit here to finish you off. When I’m through with you, I can take your essence and assume control of your physical body on Korriban. With your power, and your face, I can betray your friends and take the Sith relics they possess for myself. I will gain the power to enslave the Nightsisters and become the new Dark Lord of the Sith…all thanks to you. Now, be a good girl, Zara, and hold very still. Resisting me further will only make the pain last longer…”
TBC
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