Located in the harbor of Caelestis City on Seraph, and rising from the tides without a rock in sight, the 250 meter tall lighthouse is a beacon of safety for seafaring vessels. For anyone else, it is a frequent and infamous place to carry out feuds under Meraxis' Code Duello.

The most popular choice for duels is the top-level platform, fifty meters wide and open to the elements, save for the tall transparisteel cylinder protecting the torch. There is no barrier around the edge of the platform to prevent a 250 meter fall into the waters below. However, robust Meraxian engineering has hardened the critical components of the lighthouse in such a fashion that the whole building is open for battle, provided the duelists sign off on funding repairs.

It has become quite an attraction for the local populace to watch the duels unfold from the harbor or from nearby tall buildings.

Windswept rain battered the darkened Caelestis City harbor as menacing, coal-grey clouds hid away evening’s sunset. Waves battered the shoreline, ever trying to conquer the land. The lighthouse stood tall in defiance further out in the harbor. Its guiding light cut through the dark tempest, serving as a symbol of hope to any who might be lost in the maelstrom.

Such a light turned out to be rather bothersome for a cloaked figure on the top level of the lighthouse, the visitor keeping their back to the light while they gazed out upon the turbulent waters. An outstretched hand protruded over the side from Shadow Palpatine Nighthunter’s cloak, the Sith enjoying the cold wind as drops of water kissed her pale skin. It was a welcomed and soothing distraction from the burdens of her daily duties and worries. At least it was until another presence joined hers.

“Ah. So you did decide to come.” Shadow turned and looked upon the other Sith standing before her, her lips forming a slight smile. “Wasn’t sure if you’d take the time with me to appreciate a good storm.”

Rasilvenaira StormRaven studied her unamusingly, her own cloak shielding her from the bright torchlight. “That’s not the real reason you had me come out here.”

The Quaestor gave a curt nod. “It’s not the sole reason, no. Though some fresh air might do you some good. Perhaps it might bring you back into the fray and out of this break that you’ve been taking.”

The older assassin raised her brow. “So that’s what this is about.”

“That and to see if you’re still spry. I heard that even a semi-retirement can stiffen the joints a bit,” Shadow half-jokingly stated. “Shall we see if that is true?”

The other Warlord shrugged and grasped one of her lightsabers, the white blade coming to life with a snap-hiss. “Why not? I think you’ll find that your great-grandmaster is still very dangerous.”

A red and white blade snapped into existence from Shadow’s lightsabers, a slight grin appearing within the shadows of the half-Sephi’s cloak. “Then show me.”

The Sith barely had barely finished her words when she lunged at Rasilvenaira. Her lightsabers arched through the air, streaks of red and white following before exploding into a flash of light when the blades made contact with the human’s already anticipating one. Both Warlords’ eyes locked for just a brief moment, and Shadow knew that there was no holding back.

Rasilvenaira’s lips turned up slightly in a cold grin as her obsidian-hued eyes locked with the Quaestor’s golden ones. Her second saber arced to life with an angry hiss as she aimed for Shadow’s midsection, forcing the younger Sith to quickly dodge back out of reach of the underhanded strike. The older Warlord extinguished her off-hand saber long enough to reach up and unclasp her cloak, letting it fall away. Tumultuous rain instantly soaked her clothes and hair but the woman didn’t seem to notice beyond narrowing her eyes against the water.

She reignited her blade and lunged to meet her opponent’s attack as Shadow recovered herself and pressed the fight. Distant thunder rumbled through the air as sparks flew amidst a chorus of hisses and crackles as sabers clashed. Both women fell into a rapid rhythm as they spun and dodged, each testing the other as they sought any sign of weakness or openings. A malicious glint flashed in Rasilvenaira’s dark eyes as she ducked under Shadow’s saber, only to drop the one she held in her left hand as she twisted and came back up. The older Sith reached out to catch hold of the half-Sephi’s right arm, just above the elbow and a burst of pale lightning crackled round her fingers.

The Quaestor hissed and shoved Stormraven back as well as she could with her off-hand. The arm Rasilvenaira had grasped was seized by spasms as the energy from the lightning confused nerves and muscles and she dropped her saber. She glanced up, a grimace of pain on her face as she locked eyes with the older assassin.

Rasilvenaira laughed coldly, her left hand extended as she recalled her saber to her hand. She extinguished her other saber and clipped both back to her belt. She opened herself to the flowing tendrils of power that flowed around them, drawing on the black depths of her own soul. Then, in an instant, the Warlord vanished as pure, impenetrable darkness surrounded both Sith.

Shadow growled and tightened her grip on the saber she still held. She shook her right arm, in an attempt to alleviate the lightning’s effects as quickly as possible. She turned to looked around, though it would be futile, even if she used the Force. This was a trick the older woman was fond of, and it would be impossible to find the Sith until she exposed herself.

“You think yourself a Sith, an Assassin? You think you know me? Who do you think you are, child?”

Shadow moved, slowly and carefully, trying to brace herself for the ambush sure to come. “You know who I am, Ras. You know what I’ve been through and what I’ve done. I don’t have to justify myself to you.”

Another low chuckle, this time from Shadow’s left. “Keep telling yourself that. You decided to test me. Are you capable of doing so? You still cling to ghosts and lie to yourself that it makes you stronger.”

StormRaven fell silent, one with the blackness that shrouded her quarry. The only sounds were the thunder and rain pounding against the lighthouse, and the sounds of the half-Sephi’s muttered curses and growled frustration. That, naturally, amused her the most. Rasilvenaira stalked closer, knowing she could likely end the contest in one strike. But where would the fun be in that?

“Stop playing tricks, Ras. Or are you too old to give me a fair fight?”

Her right hand closed around the hilt of her double-bladed dagger, Arashi-Kumori, as she drew it. The darkness faded only an instant before Rasilvenaira lashed out. The leading blade grazed Shadow’s hip before the younger Sith could dodge and roll away. Rasilvenaira grinned, but as usual that grin didn’t reach her dark eyes. They held no hint of any emotion at all.

“Sith never play fair, child.”

The other Warlord’s words had sunk far deeper into Shadow’s heart than did her opponent’s blade. The personal attack had struck a nerve, and on top of that, Rasilvenaira was giving her a lecture. Yet, insults were the least of her concerns. Ras’ sneak attack had managed to make its mark, and though it was just enough to break the skin, the Quaestor soon found that the slash had been accompanied by a chemical threat as a small numbing feeling began to creep down her leg.

Sithspit! Stay focused!

“That sharp toy is so fitting with its owner’s venomous words,” Shadow remarked as she got into a defensive stance, taking what pressure she could off her leg while keeping an eye on the older assassin. “As to those ghosts, some of them have gotten me pretty far.”

“Keep telling yourself that,” the StormRaven countered, the Warlord quickly lashing out with one of her now-ignited blades, testing Shadow’s reflexes as well as toying with her. “You call yourself a Sith? Fine. Prove it.”

Shadow held back from falling for the taunt and shoved off the StormRaven’s attack with her off-hand saber. She ran through different options for getting out of this predicament, her mind racing in desperation as she felt the poison begin to do more of its work. She had to think quickly however as Ras struck at her again. Shadow took advantage of the wet, slippery surface pivot out of the way on her good leg. She used the momentum to lunge out of the spin at Ras, quickly switching her off-hand blade to her strong hand. Her gaze met with that of the older warlord, and she focused on Rasilvenaira’s insults from earlier as she reached into her mind. Her anger grew as did her resolve. The older woman was right that she held onto those she had lost to drive her, but it wasn’t just them. It was the two precious souls still alive that also fueled her determination and might. Something she felt her elder didn’t quite understand.

“You still don’t know me, StormRaven,” Shadow sneered as she let the darkness flow through her, her opponent quickly striking out at the ruse that was her blade. The Quaestor could feel dark tendrils of the Force flow from her gaze and push into the other Warlord’s mind. It took more effort than usual no thanks to the poison and Rasilvenaira’s mental strength, but the half-Sephi maintained her gaze.

Realization sparked up in the human’s eyes, though barely as the Sith tried not to show it. Her pause in movement was enough to show Shadow that her plan had worked. However, she couldn’t maintain it for long, and Ras growled in frustration as she fought off the Force-induced fear. Shadow’s legs were now barely able to hold her up, so out of desperation, she gathered her strength and lunged in hopes of tackling her fellow Palatinaean towards the edge of the lighthouse.

It was a big mistake. Her opponent had quickly recovered and twisted away, and Shadow found herself on the wet floor. Right after, lightning flashed as StormRaven’s blade appeared next to her head. The young Quaestor closed her eyes and cursed silently. Rasilvenaira had outwitted her, and she had no one else to blame for her defeat but herself. She was the wave who dare try to knock down the beacon of light in the night. In the end, she failed.

“Still think I don’t have it in me?” the victor asked without emotion.

The younger assassin sighed. “I stand corrected. You win, Ras. You win.”