July 11, 2012

785. No Place Like Home 8 - Trychon

Trychon screamed again and the room crackled with dark energy that flowed through him.  In a way, the room felt as though it was alive for the first time in a millennium.

He pulled the Holocron to him and squeezed it in his hands, as though he wanted to juice out the essence of it's inhabitant, or crush the crystal itself.  "What did you do to her?!" He yelled as he held the crystal inches from his own face.

"I did nothing.  You did this to her, as you should have." The voice of the Holocron rang out from behind him.
Trychon spun to face the Sith Master.  "Tell me what you did to her!"

"Again, this was your doing.  Your mistake was simply not understanding.  She was a tool.  She was to get you this far, and she has."

Trychon wanted to assault the dark being, but even in his distraught state, he knew that was pointless.  He let the Holocron continue.  "She did make a mistake though, in translating the ritual as 'Sacrament'.  It's true that the connotation is there, but the true meaning in this use was 'Sacrifice.'"

"It's done then!  Help me get her back, or so help me..."

"Oh, it's not done yet.  Nothing is done yet but preparations.  She was the prerequisite.  The ritual calls only for knowledge, and she was your tool of knowledge.  Now you must make a sacrifice, that the Dark Side can recognize your willingness to do anything to achieve your goals.  That nothing else matters.  That you will use your power and reign down destruction for the pursuit of more power."

Trychon repeated his demand.  "What about Cordelia? You said we could save her, you piece of..." 
"I said you would need to finish the ritual.  You haven't finished yet.  For what it's worth though, your tool is with me."

Cordelia appeared in front of him, as a miniature version of herself in the glistening blue form of a Holocron Master.  She was doubled up on the floor in pain, screaming in ethereal pain.

"This is her state, and how she'll remain until you satisfy what is required of you."

-------------------

Trychon walked slowly down the path to the town that raised him.  He had some small semblance of family there... even if they only raised him in turns, and only some were fair to him.  As a teen he couldn't wait to get away.  As an adult he'd put off returning for too long, only to find that there was a treasure there waiting for him.

Now he found himself returning one last time, and there was a sense of urgency as well as continued hesitance.  He went with dual purposes.  One he had held for a long time - continued mastery and power over the dark side of the Force.  The other was much more recent - a chance to save a woman he loved.
She had forgiven or overlooked the violence in his past, when he told her of its sometimes random nature and targets, not always with a real purpose.

If he succeeded in saving her, could she forgive him for violence with a true purpose?  If he destroyed everything she ever knew, would she then finally hate him for the monster he had become?
He knew he was a monster by most definitions, and that the path he had been seeking would only make it more true.  He had tried to temper the monster and to him it was not who he was, but rather a tool that he used.

To satisfy the darkness, would he have to finally become the monster?  What level of depravity and violence was proper sacrifice to prove his devotion to this path, and save Cordelia?
His only real option was to leave no doubt.  The time for internal debate was over, as he reached the edge of the village.  He paused for a moment to stare into the clear skies above, as the stars began to fade along with night time.  Everyone would just now be rising from their beds for their daily chores.

Perfect.

He let every ounce of hate he had for this place, his childhood, Thad and his buddies bubble to the surface of his consciousness.  He added to it every experience he could draw from since he'd left.   Every trick he knew to amplify his power came into play, and he could feel it pulsing from him as he paced to the center of the town.

"Shaan?  Thank the skies, it is you!  We were worried you had disappeared again, and we haven't found Cordelia!  What happened?"

"You worried about the fate of Cordelia and Shaan?"  Trychon laughed mockingly.  "That's sweet."

He looked up from the ground, and Pon recoiled at the sight of electricity coursing from his eyes.  "But I am the Sith Lord Trychon, and Cordelia will be safe soon enough."

He unleashed a blast of Force Lightning unlike any he'd ever controlled.  Pon's body went limp immediately as it flew backwards into the village meeting center, causing it to catch ablaze.

The confusion and screaming followed predictably.  Everyone was running out of their modest homes, in search of answers for the cause of the destruction.  They were too altruistic or too stupid to seek shelter away from the chaos, and instead found themselves lining up like nerfs to the slaughter.

One by one, he ended their pointless lives as they ran around like animals.  He could easily destroy them by the handful, but he gave them each an individual moment of his rage.  Some he blasted like he had done Pon, others he lifted into midair and snapped their necks or squeezed the life out of their beating heart.  Others he crushed with flying debris, as even the structures around them did not deserve his mercy.

Finally, it seemed to dawn on some of the few that were left that it was insanity to stay or confront him and they began to flee.

Without understanding his own words, Trychon began reciting a spell he did not know.  The syllables flowed from his mouth as though from a stranger.  Yet, he somehow knew that nobody would be able to get beyond the invisible barrier he had conjured.

Their cries of pain and suffering did nothing but fuel his power, as he pulled them back to him one by one and finished their fates.

Finally, he sensed Thad.  He must have known what had been going on and had cowered in his home.  There was nobody else left, but the quivering essence of his very first enemy.

With a thought, he lifted the hovel from around the scum and called to him.  "Aren't you going to stop me, Thad?  Don't you want to fight me anymore?"

He had to pull Thad to him in the air as he had so many of the other cowards.  He set him down in front of him and let him cry.

He slowly let his draw on the Dark Side slide away.  "Now's your chance.  Show me what a strong man you've become."

Thad yelled as he stood, and threw a haymaker at Trychon's head.  Trychon didn't stop it, instead allowing the punch to jerk his head back, while holding his ground.

Several more times, he allowed Thad's fists to connect with his face and even cause him to bleed.  Still, the rest of his body would not budge.

"You're a freak!"  Thad screamed.  "You've always been a freak, and we had always wished you'd never shown up!  Leave!  Go away!  You never could take the beatings you deserved, and you've become something unnatural.  You freak!"

"If anyone here could take claim on what I have become today, Thad... it would be you.  Whether you understand it or not, your part in this universe, as my life... is insignificant.  I am what I am because it was destined.  You won't get the chance to come to terms with the meaning of this, but Cordelia will."

With that, Trychon began responding to the blows.  He blocked them, shoved them aside and returned them in kind.  What little strength Thad had left from the ordeal faded quickly as strike after strike found their place on his body and his face.

He did not call on the Force to strengthen his attack, or give him foresight into Thad's thoughts.  He simply beat him, and beat him until he laid bloodied on the ground beneath him.

With one last brutal strike to the face, Trychon felt something give and Thad stopped breathing with a quiet gurgling noise.

Trychon stood up and walked away out of the rubble that had been a town, admiring again the clear skies above him, now much brighter and seemingly not bothered at all by the storm of rage he'd unleashed.

He allowed himself only a few moments of reflection on what he'd done.  The people he'd killed; friend and foe alike, all helpless before him... slaughtered.  In those brief moments thinking back, he finally realized that he hadn't hated the place as much as he'd remembered.  He knew he'd destroyed all of the good with whatever amount of bad there had been.

His sudden insight into his own mind made him realize something else.  He doubted that his 'Master' was telling the truth about saving Cordelia.  At least not the truth in entirety... he never did.  He was sure that he had passed the Sith's rite of passage.  He'd felt it.

He was nearly as sure that there was broken promises waiting for him back at the Sith Temple.  He felt that now too.

"Goodbye."  He mumbled without regret.

He continued on, staring once more at the ground as he returned to pack up his camp and hopefully reclaim his loved one.

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