You stand at the very top of the Shadow Academy—the great pyramid of Lyspair—in the offices of the Headmaster. A fire crackles merrily in the chamber, background noise for the battle yet to come. Two comfortable couches sit in the center of the long, ovoid room. Your eyes land on the desk opposite the fireplace, filled with datapads and forms. The yellowish glows of the flames illuminate the shelves of artifacts and holo-books surrounding the upper tier of the room. This was a private study, the place where the Headmaster of the Shadow Academy met his subordinates to discuss important matters.

Your eyes track beyond the desk, to an unassuming door which will lead directly to the Headmaster's living quarters. A side door to your immediate right leads to the more public office. The opposite door, standing on the left, leads to a private sparring room. You hear the soft rush of metal and cloth as your opponent pulls their weapon. Despite the sanctity of the Headmaster's chambers, the fight is inevitable. It was meant to be. As your hand drops down to your own weapon, you shift into a combat stance and prepare to draw.

Adeodatus’ hand instinctively brushed his saber as he heard the rustle of the robes somewhere behind him but he allowed it to pass by without touching the weapon. He liked this room; somehow it felt comfortable almost like it had been designed just for him. 

Once, many years ago, when he had first been dragged into the Brotherhood under another name, Adeodatus had dreamed of filling an office like this. As a young novice he looked towards his superiors with a respect that bordered on awe and adoration all the while praying in the depths of his heart that one day he would become one of them. He now realized that the dreams he had once held were just that; dreams and nothing more.

   Life had happened, as it always does. Wars came and went, Houses rose and fell and the dreams Adeodatus had once held deep within his heart were dashed to pieces as he moved from one conflict to another. And they left in their place a bitterness that lingered even after all these years. 

It was a bitter feeling that Adeodatus had learned to accept. Truth be told, after he had joined Odar-Urr, the feeling had almost disappeared as the power of the light cleansed every part of his being. And Adeodatus had become almost happy. Yet, despite even the power of force to heal and cleanse the bitterness was always there, flickering just in the back of his mind, waiting to be unleashed upon the next person to stir it into a flame. 

    Sadly, today was that day. Seeing another new student rise swiftly through the ranks, a student that was soon to supersede his master’s many achievements rekindled the flame of bitterness in his heart. Adeodatus knew it had to be released. For his own good this battle needed to happen even though he had no desire to raise a weapon against one of his own.

Adeodatus wandered slowly around the great desk allowing his hand to gently glide across the many items scattered upon its surface as he allowed his mind to wander. “Perhaps someday,” he thought to himself, “but not today.” 

    He lingered and his thoughts were drawn back to the present when once again he heard the subtle rustle of cloth and the prattle of light footsteps across the floor. Adeodatus knew what came next. He had rehearsed this moment over and over again in his thoughts and dreams. He raised his eyes slowly and clearing his throat he began hoping that his words and actions would at least make his student remember him someday.

  “Seridan, do you want to kill me?” 

   The question took Seridan by surprise. This was his master, the man he had come to trust, the man who had taught him about the peace and tranquility that comes from following the living force. And now at the very end of his training he spoke of murder and death? Something was wrong with this scene. Something was very wrong. 

  Seridan knew what he was supposed to do in a situation like this. As a Sentinel of the Jedi order he had trained himself to find the balance between war and peace. It was his duty to find the truth here and use force if necessary. But there was also another feeling in entering his mind. It was darker. He knew that his house needed strong members if they were going to pose a true threat to the other clans. His master had been slowing down lately. Perhaps death was for the better of the house as a unit.

  The tension on his disciple’s face caused by the tension between doing what he knew was right and what he wanted to do was clear to the elder Jedi. It was a decision with which he had wrestled many times in his life but the result was always the same. 

   Adeodatus knew that silence was as good as any answer his student could have given and so nodding solemnly in resignation he moved. 

   Seridan had not been prepared for the attack. One moment his master had been standing ominously behind the desk and the in the next, with a cry that echoed off the walls, he flew over the furniture, an ignited saber in his hand. 

  Fortunately, being younger Seridan was slightly faster. His own blade leaped into his hand and ignited moments before his master’s came crashing down. Even so the force of the blow made him stumble back as blue and green sparks shattered the darkness of the room. 

    Pushing back with all his strength Seridan broke the lock. He leaped back as he did so placing a few feet between him and his opponent. He was not going to let that happen again. 

Seridan still wasn’t sure what to think. Did Adeodatus truly believe that Seridan wanted to kill him? Deo’s aura was red and angry, like a katarr bird whose nest was threatened. Seridan was trying to work out what was going through his master’s head, when Deo resumed his attack. His intense blue blade swung upwards, aiming to undercut Seridan’s arm. With a hasty and somewhat awkward parry, Seridan knocked the lightsaber away and attempted a quick counter-attack, aimed at Deo’s knee.

Deo moved amazingly quickly, knocking the armoury saber aside. In a smooth transition, he spun his saber around towards the Miralukan. Seridan twisted his body, bringing his lightsaber up to catch the blow. It surprised Seridan; it was a strong strike and made him take a step back. As it slid back, it collided with a stack of books and volumes, causing papers to cascade to the floor.

With the temporary distraction, Seridan afforded himself a quick glance behind him. A bookcase stood only a few feet behind him. He darted to the right, allowing himself more room.

He spun his lightsaber in an unnecessary flourish, finishing with it pointing out towards Deo, a position one could see as accusatory.

“I don’t know what you’re thinking Deo, but I don’t want to kill you!” He said, looking straight into his master’s eyes.

His eyes were focussed and his demeanour confident and calculated, as always. Deo’s mind was calm. There was no madness in him, no delusion.

“If you don’t want to kill me,” Deo said, “then why are you pointing your lightsaber at me?”

He darted forward, his saber plunging towards his leg. Seridan summoned all the speed he could muster to deflect the blow. With his left hand, he flung a book from the bookcase at Deo, attempting to stun him. Deo ducked, the volume soaring over his head. He rose slowly, his aura becoming crimson-tinted once again. Seridan readied his blade in preparation.

His mind raced, trying to find the reason behind this ill-fated duel. He knew that the Dark Jedi have an old tradition, where the apprentice kills their master in order to become the next Dark Lord. He knew also that his master was once a Dark Jedi. Could that be his reasoning, or did Adeodatus truly believe in Seridan’s bloodlust?

The two Jedi stood facing one another; a Master and a Student. People said that they were a good pairing; they were astoundingly similar, but very different at the same time. One was an innocent youth, inexperienced and oblivious to true evil; the other was a redeemed Krath, once a leader of Dark Jedi, but now a light-side veteran.

Seridan knew little about what had caused his change of heart. He knew that Deo had fled his former House, turning up at Odan-Urr two years after. What had happened must have been significant, and yet he never talked about it. It was locked away in his mind, impervious to all.

All of a sudden Deo lunged forward once more, but Seridan was ready. He had foreseen the move and was already moving to counteract it. Their blades clashed with a flash of light, Seridan’s emerald green contrasting against Deo’s sapphire blue. Deo spun his lightsaber around in a speedy riposte. Seridan once more sent it away. The two Jedi continued in this vicious melee, each waiting for the other to tire.

After a particularly strong offense from Deo, Seridan started to feel his strength waning. His swordsmanship was not at par with his master’s. Each block and each parry made his muscles complain; the speed of his opponent was about to overcome him.

‘I need to turn the tide,’ He thought, desperate, ‘I need to make him stop this. Whatever the cost.’

Knowing full well that it would be difficult to defeat his master in open combat, especially in these close quarters Seridan realized his only hope lie in playing off his opponent’s weaknesses. The problem being he didn’t have many. Seridan had found he was afraid of deep water but that wouldn’t be much use here. And then it dawned on him.

Summoning what strength remained in him Seridan threw his whole weight into the next blow that his Master delivered. The blades clashed and hissed as they locked together once again. Leaning in towards the pillars of light Seridan pushed against his Master with all his strength and he felt Adeodatus doing the same. In the light of the blades he saw the sweat beginning to bead up on his face. Obviously, this was taking a toll on him as well.

Now was the time to act. Bracing his feet solidly on the floor with a grunt Seridan pushed. And he flew. The combined strength of him and his Master sent him flying across the room and slammed him into another shelf crowded with manuscripts and gadgets. He crumpled to the floor faking injury.

As a small snicker escaped his Master’s lips between his deep breathing Seridan put his plan into action. Pushing himself up on to his knees he swung his blade, not towards his opponent but directly into the shelf. Immediately, the heat of the blade ignited the dried parchments and well preserved tomes. Leaping from shelf to shelf it would only be a matter of moments before the whole room was on fire.

Standing upright Seridan turned towards his Master. “The only thing you ever loved was your books and your studies.” “Now,” he glanced around the walls which were now glowing orange in the light of the flames, “you have the choice. Defeat me or save them.”

With a smile on his face Seridan turned and walked away from his Master. Passing through the flames he made his way towards the door into the far end of the room that lead to audience chamber. There was no way that Deo could abandon the precious treasure contained on this floor. And by the time he stopped the fire Seridan would be far away.

“That was easy,” Seridan thought to himself as he crossed the threshold into the spacious chamber. And then the burning smell of his own flesh reminded him of just how foolish he had been.

Dazed and confused Seridan tried to turn but found himself unable. In the haze and the pain he searched around, and then he saw it. Protruding from his left shoulder was the tip of a blue blade, sizzling as it pierced his flesh.

The blade was withdrawn violently and the involuntary scream that escaped Seridan’s lips was audible even over the sound of the building creaking and groaning ass the fire ate through its support.

Seridan stumbled into the next room. His shoulder was bleeding but not badly. His Master had stabbed him as a warning. But for what reason?

Favoring his wounded side Seridan turned anew to face his Master. Adeodatus stood in the now crumbling door frame with his body appearing as a silhouette against the smoke and glow of the raging inferno. Seridan could see his robes were torn and tattered where the flames had licked against them.

“Next, time,” he instructed, “Never turn your back on your enemy.”

Everything was in motion. Nothing was in focus, and his vision was pulsing between black and super-bright white. The pain was now intensified. The flesh around it had blackened from the heat and some areas were still glowing orange. Seridan couldn’t feel anything but pain. He felt as if a chunk of his flesh had been ripped from his body by ravenous fingers. It felt as if there should be blood gorging from the wound, but only a trickle seeped from the hole. Pins and needles pricked his entire left arm, and numbness festered along his upper torso. His thoughts were all over the place; Seridan couldn’t organise them into coherent streams.

He wanted to give in. He wanted to let his legs go, to fall to the ground in agony. He wanted to curl into a ball and either wait for the pain to fade or unconsciousness to claim him. Yet at the same time, he was afraid of what Deo would do.

His legs were getting shaky but he strengthened them with the Force. He desperately clutched his lightsaber in his right hand, scared that it would fall to the ground. Its emerald blade quivered. Usually it was a symbol that Seridan used to bolster his strength, but now that strong and steadfast symbol shook with uncertainty and fear.

'Ignore it,' Seridan thought, his mind beginning to take control, 'You create your own strength. Be strong.'

Deo stood still in his singed and torn robes, as the Miralukan tried to back away. His face was expressionless, beads of sweat still clinging to his face. His chest rose and fell quickly, but he wasn’t showing many signs of exhaustion or fatigue.

Seridan’s legs weren’t obeying him as they had before. They did move backwards, but they threatened to fall beneath him at every moment. Accepting the fact that he was now at a terrible disadvantage, he raised his head and met Deo’s eyes. They were dark but deep. They were the same colour as the vacuum of space, and they had substance and lustre. They didn’t give anything away, and Seridan couldn’t concentrate enough to apprehend his aura. He held his blue lightsaber out to the side, as a threat.

“D-Deo,” Seridan spluttered, surprised at his inaptitude to speak, “I d-don’t want to k-kill you. I n-never have.”

Deo’s face altered, changing to a thoughtful expression, then into one of curiosity mixed with anger. “Why then, did you continue to attack?” Deo said, somewhat accusingly, “and why did you burn the Headmaster’s books?”

“D-Deo, I wasn’t sure what you’d do,” Seridan spoke, gaining confidence with each word, “I-it could have been a t-test, or a Krath tradition --”

“You thought I was deluded to the ways of the Jedi?” Deo interrupted, his face flashing with a sudden anger, “and you didn’t have to carry on, or burn the books.”

“If we are to continue this fight, then tell me why.”

Even in the haze of smoke and pain Seridan saw his master smile as he heard his question.

“Now you’re beginning to ask the right questions,” Adeodatus responded, his tone at once turning from bitterness to his more familiar lecture tone. “Ask yourself why you are here and when you can answer that you’ll know why this battle must continue.”

Seridan understood now this was his final test. Yet, he couldn’t fathom how to answer the question. It was so vague. There were so many possible answers. And what would happen if he answered incorrectly? He didn’t have to wait long to discover the answer to that thought.

The momentary pause had been a pleasant reprieve for Seridan as he tried to wrap his mind around what was being asked of him. Why was he here? What did that mean? Unfortunately, he did not have time to think this through. Seeing his opportunity Adeodatus pushed his attack. Seridan felt the pain almost immediately as a small glass object, which moments before had been sitting peacefully on the ground, was smashed into his arm by a strong force push.

Weak as the attack was it was almost enough to take Seridan down. His shoulder hurt so much. And now the pain in his right arm simply added to his agony. His hand shook and he almost dropped his saber but he knew if that happened he would fail. And so summoning what strength he still had left Seridan forced himself to calm down. Slowing his breathing as he had been taught with a deep sigh he forced himself upright as he once more raised his saber towards his Master.

Grasping for some response Seridan kept coming up empty handed. And so he said the first thing that came into his mind. “I don’t know why I’m here right now. I do know that I will not let you get away with this.” And he lunged towards his Master with all his might.

Adeodatus was for the first time disappointed in his student. He should have known why he had been called here this night. Adeodatus however, had once been told by his own Master never to let an opportunity to teach go to waste and so he readied himself for the attack.

It came faster and stronger than he had expected. Seridan was using the force to enhance his abilities. Either that or he had grown stronger since they last fought. Even so his attacks were predictable. Seridan slashed to the left and Adeodatus knocked his blade to the right. Seridan thrust his saber forward, Adeodatus stepped back. They were well executed maneuvers, Adeodatus thought, but they came straight from a textbook. They lacked life and so were easy to defend. Or so he thought.

Seridan again stabbed his blade forward. Adeodatus leaned left and stepped back. And he didn’t move. His back hit something large and hard. Was it a wall? Or was it another shelf that he had backed into? Adeodatus had no idea. What he did know was that he miscalculated and so was fully aware of what would happen next.

Seeing his opponent off balance and with nowhere to run Seridan lashed out with his saber drawing it downward, slashing across his Master’s chest. There was no telling how deep the wound was as his Master’s robes were dark with the soot and smoke that was beginning to spread into this room as well. It was however a solid hit. Seridan smelled the charring of flesh as his master slumped over and leaned more heavily on the wall for support.

Adeodatus coughed. His student had truly grown since he first began his training. That much was clear. Yet at the same time he had so far to go. And Adeodatus did not what to do next. And so drawing in a deep breath he placed his fate into his student’s hands as he said once again, “Seridan, why are you here, in this order, and in this house? Why do you want to be a Jedi?”

The inferno in the Headmaster’s Office was dying down. Many of the tomes were dry, and burned quickly. The couches had caught fire fast and were now piles of glowing embers. Every shelf had fallen, every paper destroyed. The fireplace was still alight, the flickering flames watching sentinel over the ruined room. Smoke was everywhere. It filled the office and overflowed through the doorway into the high-ceilinged audience chamber.

The incinerated furniture still glowed; the fire wasn’t dead yet. Its light radiated into the audience chamber, casting shadows everywhere.

Deo pushed himself upright, keeping a hand on the wall for safety. His simple robes were tattered and charred. His face was in complete shadow, masking his expression.

Seridan took his time to answer the question. The light and the shadows danced across his face, both vying for dominance. He searched to find a suitable answer. One that would be right for a situation such as this.

He wanted to be a Jedi to stop oppression, to fight crime. If he saw wrong, Seridan wanted to possess the ability to change it. He’d seen suffering and pain. He’d lived through oppression, conquered fear and fought tyrants. He wanted to stop it, to defeat it wherever he found it in the galaxy.

“I am a Sentinel,” he said, the words gushing from his mouth, “I fight evil and oppression. I am willing to fight and protect the innocent in any way I can. I can spar, I can duel and I can persuade.” He took a breath, inspiration hitting him suddenly, “I am here now as your student. You have taught me everything I know. I am your Padawan and this is a final test.”

Even with the shadow, Seridan could see a smile on his master’s face. Deo pushed himself away from the wall, his body more slouched than usual.

“You are correct. Let’s see if you pass.” He brought his lightsaber up above his head, preparing for Soresu defence. The blade illuminated Deo’s face; he beared quite a few scratches, and had pain etched onto the corners of his mouth. Seridan’s slash must’ve had quite an impact.

Seridan adjusted his balance, crouching slightly and rolling onto the balls of his feet. He was preparing for one last fight. As he pointed his lightsaber towards the ground, as he had been taught to, he could feel his left shoulder sagging. Numbness still inhabited parts of his left side, stopping some movements to be carried out. His left arm was capable of performing a few low-energy movements, but it was largely useless.

Seridan began to gingerly walk towards his master, taking small strides to maintain stability. Deo moved towards him too. Once they were close enough, Deo lashed out, catching Seridan’s blade in an elaborate disarm. There wasn’t much strength behind the blow, but the accuracy and skill was enough to throw the armory lightsaber from his grasp. Deo’s blue blade dashed upward, stopping under Seridan’s neck. “Is that all you’ve got?” Deo sneered, a glint in his eye.

Seridan delivered a weak Force Push into his master’s belly. Adeodatus stumbled back, winded. Seridan reached out with the Force, searching for his lightsaber in amongst the cushioned seating. He couldn’t find it. There was just too many distractions, stopping him from concentrating. He turned back to find Deo ready once more. His lightsaber stood ready at hip height, his trademark smile poking fun at Seridan.

Seridan’s mind searched along another row of seats. His lightsaber lay in between two of the armrests. Reaching out with his hand, he summoned his saber. It flew back into his hand.

He ignited the emerald blade and walked toward Deo. Once more, Deo struck first. His lightsaber swung toward his left side, but Seridan deflected the blow and attempted a riposte at Deo’s offhand. The counter attack was successfully parried, Deo’s blue blade rushing to meet it.

Seridan decided to change tack. He swung his lightsaber wide, exposing his midsection. Deo took the opportunity and slashed forward, but Seridan had expected this. His saber quickly caught the opposing blade in a lock.

Deo pushed all his weight into it, sliding the saber up and down Seridan’s. Seridan was holding his saber with two hands, but one was near useless and the other was stinging and aching. Deo broke the lock and promptly disarmed his apprentice.

“You’ve done well,” He said with a smile, “Even though you didn’t defeat me, you’ve done well. You used wit and engaged me in speech as well as combat. You answered my questions well, and it’s time for me to answer yours. You were right: this is one of your final tests. And you have passed.”

Deo put his arm around Seridan’s good shoulder and together, they walked back towards the smoky office.

Seridan grinned, “Time to clear this all up, then.”