The young man that called himself Nicholas awoke with a start, bumping his head on something that was cold and metallic. It had felt like a earthquake, and he dimly remembered a event from his childhood. No, he said to himself. That person is dead, those times are over. I do not need that. He thought these things to himself slowly, words from himself coming to himself as if through a fog, and then he began to open his eyes, only to see nothing. He then at that moment remembered where he was. He was on a transport shuttle to the Shadow Academy on Lyspair. Lyspair, a planet he had never heard of, but then again none of this he even knew of weeks early. Recruited by the Dark Jedi Brotherhood, or as he thought to himself, forcibly enrolled. Though, he thought to himself, this is not that horrible. That thing I always felt, that strength I always desired...That balance I sought, I can feel myself beginning to head in that direction. Yet, at the same time, something bothered the young man. It felt to him in the pit of his stomach that their was some sort of, darkness. What bothered a part of him more though, was that he desired the darkness.
As he was thinking that, he began to lay back down. Then the lights on the bulkhead came on, revealing the cramped room he was in. Five bunk beads of metal carved into a metallic wall, with people in filthy clothes laying in them. Room enough for only one person to get out at a time and leave the room. Trapped like insects, Nicholas thought to himself. Then, his stomach lurched, and everyone jolted. This must mean we either got hit by something and are about to die, or are landing. Yet a feeling in his stomach yet again told him the latter. A feeling of darkness power began to permeate the air, and then he realized this, and perhaps the others did as well. They had arrived to the Shadow Academy.
“Attention. We have landed. You will also discard your clothes, and will be given new robes to wear. You are expected to follow in a single line, one at a time and assemble outside of the ship. Those that ignore any of this will be killed.”
The voice boomed throughout the ship, nearly rupturing the young mans ears. Then after this, he laid his head back down. He twisted his head to the left, and saw one person leave, and then another. The following events were that of like a machine. They undressed, found time for some cleaning, dressed, and left the ship, and aligned outside. A robed figure awaited them, and appraised them. He then beckoned them to follow, and then at this moment, Nicholas saw the Academy that lay before him. A massive pyramid structure, with towers surrounding it and a bleak sky, cloudy sky. Ahead of him he saw two doors, and something told Nicholas that if he walked away, he would not have to face whatever that lay inside. That it would be better to no go, that it would be better for him to just wait outside. He felt foggy, as if compelled to go. No, I must go on. I must move on, no matter the cost, no matter the price. Anger flared up in him, anger at this...Childish fear. The feeling vanished, and he then realized something. The group of eight had become a group of five. The three others were laying on the ground, and then from the Academy walls, a stone or two moved. A blaster appeared, and the three were shot dead. Did they deserve that?, Nicholas thought to himself. No, I cannot concern myself with them now. No matter how afraid I am, if I let one seed of it blossom, I'll die just like them. I have to be strong right now.
The figure led them into a bleak black room of the shape of a circle. Engraved into the walls were robed figures holding up the ceiling, as if they were...Puppets, being crushed. Then Nicholas noticed the man, women, or something leaning on the wall in the far corner, as well as many of the other students, who were mostly silent, if not for the few occasional whispers. The events that followed afterwards were of little importance. As I reflect upon these events, one student spoke out and was made a example of for his stupidity. A few others were led away, not being strong enough, yet not as weak as those who fell outside. The remaining were addressed, given datapads, assigned quarters, and given a general tour. Of course, I can remember one thing I felt during those past events, one thought. “These people are the embodiment of cold hearted practicality. They must have no souls, no compassion, no caring for other people, no sense of morality!” Yet, funnily enough, at that thought Nicholas saw one of the robed figures turn to him and lift his hand....Nicholas , as I called myself then, and yet, sometimes still do...I, no he, no it was I...Turned and looked into the cowl, and I muttered these words, not understanding why. I will break myself. I thought I heard a chuckle, and then I heard these words. Words that chilled me then, and yet I realized how very true they were. “You shall burn, time and time again. Stripped of your wings and cast down. You will begin anew, and fail. You...are nothing.” Yet, as I thought now, the lesson was not a insult...It was a lesson of the fundamental nature of the Dark Side and self, the nihilism the universe may be, and moreso, a chain to shatter, something to become. I however have gone on to long.
He, Nicholas, was guided through the temple. Early in his life had not been attracted to people. They were simply, different. He concerned himself with books and of that sort, and then he saw the archives. Archives he would gain access to if he could pass his first week. Books, and as he was guided on his tour, he dimly heard the word “exams”. He thought to himself that he would set a record for test taking, as he had done before he had dropped out of School on his home world...Yet, it was no longer home. He had no home, I have no home. He was later returned to his quarters, after a long, grueling tour that was as he realized it then, a test of physical endurance, one that he had nearly failed. The light was fading, and it would be night soon. Yet, as he had passed the archives, he had saw a small few pages of paper on the ground. A small book, something to study. Something the other students did not, and I reflect on this now, was I chosen? The same robed figure turned to me, looked at me, and left. I looked at the small book, perhaps more or less a pamphlet, and took it. They were simple words, a code. I reflect on this now, all those that follow, or say they embrace the dark side believe they were chosen. Yet, names...Sith had always renamed themselves, to become stronger, better, to forge a new identity. What would I call myself? I was given Nicholas, but now, I will take a name with my own fist. Nicholas thought back to his enjoyment of the various forms of Art, particularly gaming. Art...Artors. Artorias...Artorias, yes, that will be my new name.
Yet that night, my last words...Burned into my soul now, and perhaps another obstacle to overcome......Peace is a lie, there is only passion.