The sound of a waterfall glistened in the ears of Sariel, the raging water cascading over rocks and providing a cooling mist. The human’s muscles ached from his morning exercises, his daily ritual of practicing kata and weapons forms always doing the trick to awaken his mind with a tempest of thoughts and feelings. He sat in a lotus position, the coolness of the moss covered rock he sat upon providing him a small degree of comfort from his sweat covered clothing.
He breathed in deeply, closing his eyes as his mind wandered through the rapid fire of images and memories. He allowed each one to play out, embracing both the positivity and negativity that came from each. The music made by the natural beauty that surrounded Sariel allowed him to further grasp these experiences, working through the emotions that came from them and scrubbing their hold on his conscious thought away. It would not be long, however, until the memory that refused to leave would surface and Sariel could feel the anxiety in his chest swell at the fear of experiencing it once more.
In his mind, he saw the orange hue of flames in the darkness. He smelled the soot and ash of his monastery burning, the scent of charred flesh stinging his nostrils as he heard the crying and screams of those he was meant to protect. He felt the ache of his failure as he witnessed his Grand Master struck down by a man in black, the ringing of the vile beast’s cackle stinging the human. His home laid waste, his brethren butchered and slain, and the feeling of hopelessness attacked his heart and mind in a horrid offensive.
His eyes burst open as the image of the beast entered his view. A monster in the guise of a man, blood stained skin coupled with a horrible visage of a face roared in his mind. A single tear rolled down his cheek as he closed his eyes once more, refusing to fail again at his mental exercise. He focused harder, trying his best to control the memory in his mind as if it were a lucid dream. In his memory, he saw himself look down at his hands and see the weapon that he could not find that day. It was a long ebony staff, the special carvings and carefully wrapped linen seeming to smile as he held the trusted friend in his hand. He forced himself to approach the beast, destroying the memory in his mind and creating a new experience. He was younger then, when fear and anger still held him back from action. He could not change yesterday, but he could make it so that the tragedy of his past no longer held sway over his future.
“Oh, another notch for my belt.” said the Umbaran, his hand holding a black leather sash that was mangled and mutilated by tally marks.
Sariel ignored his taunt, instead gathering his inner strength and energy in preparation for the battle. A crimson blade came from the beast, his cackling renewed with vigor at the sight of his weapon. The human gave no reaction, staying his position and readying himself for the Umbaran to strike. Like a creature uncaged, the black clad warrior lunged at Sariel with his saber in a downward strike. Sariel rolled forward, past his opponent, and placed three strikes against his enemy. One blow landed behind the knee, forcing his opponent to stagger, the other two strikes landing on one side of his body and the other side of his head. The Sith howled, immediately turning around and striking wildly. A thrust burst forth, another lunge, another downward strike. Excitement roared in Sariel’s mind, the path his new memory was forging far better than any previous attempt. Sariel counterattacked, his quarterstaff sending a flurry of strikes in various spots. Like a whirlwind, Sariel came down upon his enemy and made multiple strikes against him. Each hit, however, only caused laughter to come from his enemy. It unnerved the human just enough to provide a window for the beast.
As Sariel attempted another strike, the Umbaran used his darkness to summon a telekinetic thrust against the human which sent him spiraling backward. His hands released his quarterstaff and sent it flying. When he landed, his head hit the rubble of a building that sent shockwaves of pain throughout the Odanite’s body, dazing him just long enough for his opponent to stand above him and smile. It was then that Sariel saw the true face of the creature, a beast with no lips, nose, or ears staring at him with murderous glee.
“Not this time, boy.” said the beast, readying his saber to plunge it into Sariel’s heart. As it came down, darkness covered the memory in the man’s mind which forced his eyes to open and bring him back to the present. Once more, the human failed to banish the last bastion of memory that harbored the emotions he worked so hard to suppress. The beast lived by a code of death, destruction, and chaos, and Sariel knew that only through life, meditation, and serenity could he hope to change the hold the creature had on him.