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Reincarnated As A Sith

God killed me. That sucks... but he gave me the chance to live out every nerd's power fantasy. Now I have superpowers and live in a world populated by knights, dragons, and chilled-out zombies. And then there's a galaxy waiting to be conquered. Yeah... I think I got a good deal. (Self-Insert) (AU) (Sith Warrior) (Lemons) (Dark Themes) -Don't Like Self Inserts Don't Read - This is not my work

dark_elf_God · Book&Literature
Not enough ratings
23 Chs

Chapter 17: Struggles

Mostly some fluff stuff, which is going to be a lot of the up coming chapters. Nothing major in the plot will be happening for quite some time, the next big thing will be the Birth of the little shit we know as the beggar king. And Naraiz finally getting his ship back. Those will come up next and then its the Defiance of Duskendale and the various things that Naraiz will try to do in the Galaxy.

"Shut up Sand and just carry some more." His half-brother Lucas quietly ordered as he took more and more sweet buns. The two of them were in the Harrenhal kitchens at night, trying to steal some extra goodies after dinner. Nathar Sand was the name he had carried all his life. Son of Lord Blackmont and his brother was the youngest trueborn son of his father… though he was the eldest son. Because of this the rest of his family often treated him badly as they feared he might want to take what could be called his birthright. Even in a bastard friendly place like Dorne, fear of usurpation was still a very real thing.

"I'm holding as many as I can." Nathar mumbled weakly as he held several sweet buns in his arms. Only Lucas ever really cared about him, he was the only member of his family that was nice. And so being here with him was great. "I don't think we can eat this many."

"I can." Lucas snorted before dropping another two in his half-brother's arms. "That's enough, let's get back." THe eldest followed his younger brother, trying his best not to drop one of their pilfered goods. They sneaked their way back through the mostly empty halls. This had been easier since they arrived but now that the people from Essos had arrived, there was a lot more traffic in the halls. Either groups of laborers or just people confused as to where to go. It was less like this at night when most people were asleep but the stonemasons were up at all hours trying to fix the castle.

The two boys from Dorne came up to a corner and Lucas peered around looking for anyone. Nathar struggled to keep upholding all the sweet buns that he had on hand. It was heavy but he had been getting stronger thanks to all the training that all the Acolytes went through. When they first arrived, there had already been too many children for the Maester alone to teach so they split up the classes each day of the week. The rest of the days they had been set to train their bodies but even that had been split among the many Acolytes. But now they had classes and training every day now that they had more people to instruct them. Nathar didn't mind too much but he listened to his half brother complain a lot.

"Is it clear yet?" Nathar asked and then he felt the sweet buns in his arms get lighter and lighter. He blinked a few times and thought that maybe he was finally using the Force to make his life easier. But then he looked to his side and saw a dark-robed figure standing next to him.

"I think it is… yup… no people." His brother said while Nathar just looked up to the smiling I got you face that Darth Nagash was giving him. It wasn't mean or angry like Nathar was sure that his father would give him if he caught him doing this. It was just amused while at the same time knowing.

"You two really should have a third person to watch your backs, but then you would have to split the pile three ways." He said the last part with a conflicted tone like he was thinking about their heist in a nostalgic manner. Nathar however didn't notice this and only thought about how much trouble they could be in. And Lucas had frozen in his place before slowly turning back to see just who had caught them. And as the two boys internally panicked their pilfered sweet buns floated into the air, all but two which floated back down into their hands. "Now, I have come to you two because I wanted to speak with you, Nathar Sand. Lucas, you can return back to your room and your brother will be back shortly once we return the rest of these treats."

"But-" Lucas protested but a simple and mild glare from Darth Nagash sent him running back. This left Nathar alone with the leader of the Sith and he really wasn't feeling so confident about this. He was like many in that he was utterly amazed when Darth Nagash first arrived and believed many of the stories about him. But even still he was very scary to the eleven-year-old.

"Come." He nodded back toward the kitchens then started walking and the sweet buns floated behind him, then they were followed by a nervous-looking Dornish boy. "It's a fine line you know, playing the part of the scared and timid bastard while at the same time holding such ambition. To be the smart one among a family of dullards with no brains for anything but wine and sex." Darth Nagash said and Nathar stopped dead in his tracks at his words.

"W-what are y-you talking about m-milord?" Nathar asked, his voice cracking extra and a verbal stutter added onto it as well. Darth Nagash however just chuckled and looked back down on the boy.

"It's a dangerous game to play when you don't have any real allies. That brother of yours, he sees himself as the mastermind but you really are the man behind the throne aren't you." Then Darth Nagash leaned down and locked eyes with Nathar and the boy felt woozy. He felt easy… like things could be safe now. "Tell me about your ambition Nathar, what desire drives you?"

"I… I want the Sands of Dorne to drown everyone." Nathar said what he had dreamt for years. But then he snapped out of whatever trance he had been put under and realized what he had just said. "M-milord I…"

"A very interesting dream Nathar. It is true that bastards are seen much better in Dorne than elsewhere. But this is not born out of a genuine love of bastards but a cultural compromise for the boom of being more loose sexually." Darth Nagash said as he made a very accurate observation of the culture of Dorne. And Nathar knew it, even as many nobles in the most southern kingdom professed that they were more enlightened by accepting bastards in practice it was different. Bastards weren't outright hated but tolerated and regulated away from sight unless they had obvious potential. "So out of the two of you, which Blackmont is going to rise above the other and make their name famous throughout the world."

"Uhh…" Nathar couldn't really form a complete thought to that question as Darth Nagash stood back up and began back toward the kitchen. Even as the lord of Harrenhal continued to ask questions and point things out to the young boy he couldn't think of anything but that first interaction.

"Work damn you!" Jaesa shouted as she tossed the dagger that her master had given her across the room. The damn thing was so sharp that it cut through the stone and lodged itself into the wall. Which was cool and she would really have found cute if it wasn't for the fact she couldn't get it to work. "And you're not helping at all." Jaesa snarled as she turned to Midwan laying on her bed in a manner she herself liked to do with her master.

The two of them were in her room and Jaesa was trying once again to do what her master had instructed her to do. It seemed to be the new test he had given her before letting her out of the doghouse. It was really getting on Jaesa's nerves, it wasn't normal for him to be mad this long. But Jaesa supposed that it wasn't so much he was mad but trying to teach her something. And she believed to have figured that out while he was gone but before she had a chance to explain herself he dropped this on her.

"I know… I don't do that." Midwan shrugged as she enjoyed being a little tease and troll to Jaesa. Like Saarai she didn't really like Jaesa all that much outside of a sexual venue. She was a remnant of the old Naraiz. A man that Midwan didn't feel was worthy of the destiny that the new Naraiz was building for himself. The old Naraiz was far too egotistical at times and didn't know how to have fun with life beyond finding good pussy. And not a drop of the imagination that the new Naraiz had.

Old Naraiz would have never once considered becoming Emperor. He simply couldn't operate outside the structure that he had lived in his entire life. No more imperial courts or Sith circles to scheme in or military campaigns to find glory in. Midwan was sure that if the old Naraiz had found himself here in Westeros then he would have attempted to conquer it outright from the get go. And though she was sure he would get very far and possible succeed, sooner or later old Naraiz would burn himself out due to a lack the familiar. It was quite possible that he would have broken his Balance given enough time.

"You could at least give me some kind of hint? You're one of these fucking Tsân so help me get there." Jaesa pleaded, something she didn't like doing to anyone but since this woman was a part of her master in some weird way she allowed it. Even if the woman was super smug about it and the allure she had initially was starting to wear off. Sure Midwan was wild in the sack but so was she and if she really wanted to get laid she could find a random man who was horny. The reason why she kept coming back to her master was that she loved him and a lot of what she loved about him was missing in Midwan.

"You first need to store your power in the Force Blade and then transform that power. Reshape the reality of the dagger with the Force." Midwan explained only because it had been two weeks since Jaesa and Rathari had started and this was important to her master. They needed to know if only people that achieved Balance could have Tsân and Jaesa was their test. She had the power to gain one, they were sure of it. But she was far too deep in the Dark Side to ever count as someone that had achieved Balance.

"What do you think I've been doing?" Jaesa snorted as she pulled her dagger out of the wall and then threw it at Midwan who caught it between her fingers. Jaesa was disappointed by the lack of blood but supposed that given she was sure that her master could have done that his Tsân would be able to do it as well. He certainly had enough experience with having knives thrown at him given his sister did that every time they saw each other. Midwan then held the blade and carefully looked at it before tossing it back to Jaesa.

"It's ready, you just need to jumpstart it." The force construct said as she sat up in Jaesa's bed and then leaned back on the wall. A genuine interest in what sort of power Jaesa's dagger would gain and what form it would take was the driving force behind her assistance. It shouldn't be too different, it wasn't like it could turn into a broadsword or anything silly like that… or at least that's what Midwan hoped. Her master would not be happy at that level of bullshit.

Midwan watched as Jaesa clicked her tongue and stared down at the dagger in her hand. Then she tossed it up in the air and before it reached the peak it was trapped by a connecting arc of Force Lightning holding it up in the air. Jaesa winced when suddenly something pierced her, something sharp and barbed but she ignored the pain. But there was nothing, no physical force that had touched her. And then just as quickly as the pain came it turned to pleasure. Then back, and then switched again. Over and over again the sensation in her body changed and tumbled between pleasure and pain. Jaesa was no stranger to either and so added more and more power behind the Force Lightning.

Then it all stopped as Jaesa fell back on her butt and a sudden clang echoed in the room. Jaesa panted heavily as she found herself out of breath, she focused her eyes and there sitting in the middle of her room was her dagger. Or at least she knew it was her dagger but now it was two innocent needles. Sleek and long with a small rounded white ring attached to the middle of each. Jaesa pulled herself up on her hands and knees and reached over to her new weapon curiously. Taking them both in each hand she looked them over as best she could, trying to figure out just what they were and more importantly what they could do. Her master's blades could rot and dust things with just a touch.

"Don't worry Jaesa, size doesn't matter… it's how you use them." Jaesa growled as she heard Midwan giggle her little joke. On pure instinct she hooked a finger in the rings connected to the needles and with one fluid motion flung a needle toward Midwan. Only thing was, the needles in her hands never left her grasp. Jaesa's eyes widened as she saw an ethereal needle fly through the air and speed past Midwan, nearly hitting her in the eye only missing thanks to the Tsân's quick reflexes. The ghostly needle struck deep into the ceiling and then vanished. Jaesa, mouth agape in shock, turned her hand clockwise and as she did so several more fake but still very deadly needles formed as echoes of the real one.

"I… I'm so confused." Jaesa muttered as she had never been one for the mystics or symbolism of the Force. She could see into people and have bouts of insightful visions but that didn't make her an expert in what things meant. She normally relied on her master for that part.

"Falsehood… that's the thing you hold most dear to you. Your power to see the truth is only the bonus. You want to know the falsehood people use to mask themselves." Midwan said and Jaesa jumped up and held her new needles above Midwan's eyes. But then Midwan smirked madly and shoved her head into the sharp ends of Jaesa's weapon. And to the Sith's shock, Midwan's head just harmlessly phased through the needles. "Only the fake can really hurt someone. Your Jedi master told lies and they hurt you the most. Your family told lies and they hurt you the most. But then master told you the truth and made you feel complete. The truth is harmless while the fake is deadly." Midwan said as she laid her head back into Jaesa's bed. "Now all that's left is for you to discover if you can manifest that sentiment into a Tsân."

"Just how were you able to make it all the way up here?" Jadith snapped back to the source of the voice and nearly fell over the edge she had been standing on. But then an unseen hand stopped her and put her back right where she had been standing. Namely at the edge of one of the battlement towers of Harrenhal. She breathed a sigh of relief before once again, much more slowly this time, looked to see just who had followed her up here. And her breath was caught as it was the lord of the keep and the leader of the Sith Darth Nagash.

"I'm sorry milord, I know I should be in class but…" She stopped when he raised a hand and then walked to the edge with her. He stood right next to her and they both now stood at the precipice of a fall that could kill a man without a question of a doubt.

"Don't worry about that, rumor has it that teacher Nilaria is trying to drag out her lessons so she gets paid a little more." He chuckled and Jadith found herself a little more at ease with his good mood. The word had spread that he had started doing his little interviews with the Acolytes. Popping in at strange times, he would pose questions and at some point ask what they all desired. The common theme among the Acolytes that had been interviewed was that they were very cagy about what they spoke about. "But exactly why did you decide to come here of all places as you skip out on your lessons?"

"I don't know… I like the view." Up here she had a great sight of the Isle of Faces and the lands surrounding Harrenhal. She could see the huts and buildings being set up down below. The Essosi population hugging at the curtain walls of the keep. She could even smell some exotic food being prepaid wafting up. But then she turned to Darth Nagash. "I don't know what I want."

"Oh… you've been hearing things about my little visits to your peers." He said as he took a step and then Jadith gasped as he fell forward. But then he stuck to the wall of the tower they had been standing on. She looked down to see him pacing along the edges of the tower and she couldn't help but be even more amazed. "If you don't know what you want, that is a great place to find it." She wanted to roll her eyes at the obviousness of that statement but was too busy at the moment. "Many of your fellow low born Acolytes want nothing more than to become powerful and be granted land and a house of their very own. Something I have no doubt a few of them might achieve."

"Maybe the boys, but that's never going to happen to me." Jadith huffed as while boys and girls could become Sith, only the boys would ever be respected outside the Order. There was no way that any lord would grant a female Sith land even if they saved their life. Women didn't have stuff, they had husbands. Darth Nagash seemed to pick up on these thoughts and chuckled.

"I'm expecting most if not all of the departing Sith will be men. While those of the fairer sex will stay in the order as they will realize that they can find better means to respect here than in the realm. This will make a good deal of men think about sticking around." He explained as he continued to pace below her and she was starting to get used to the sight of him defying the gods' laws that things fall down. "But regardless, I have my answer to a question I didn't even ask." He said as he hopped back onto the tower next to Jadith who was very confused. "But I will say try and think up a better reason for living. A strong female lead character is lame on its own and needs better depth to be interesting." He quipped before leaving Jadith in her very confused thoughts.

"I'm leaving Joanna! You can't stop me again!" The door was about to be torn off its hinges, Lyarra's fingers dug into the wood while Joanna tried her very best to keep her inside the Lannister's room. What made this harder was the fact the two had been exploring some of their more advanced mutations was not helping Joanna keep her friend and lover back. Thankfully most of the guards were outside the castle doing a mock battle for training purposes. "It's been two months since he's been back, I need to see him!"

"Calm the fuck down, we go through this every time Benjen sends a letter!" Joanna yelled as she gripped Lyarra's waist and was pulling her back into the room. Eventually, Joanna proved to be the victor and yanked Lyarra back. The two tumbled across the floor and thanks to having the clearer head Joanna was able to top Lyarra as they came to a stop. "Finally, Lyarra… we cannot just up and leave to go to Harrenhal. Rickard might be okay with you and me but if he learned that master is fucking you and all the other things master has done to you then he'll either be killed by an uprising for looking weak or declare war on the whole Sith Order."

"I don't care, I need to see him." Lyarra said with a few tears starting to form in her eyes. The blond sighed, she thought she had worked down her friend's dependent nature in the months that Naraiz was gone. But it looked like she just couldn't change that part about Lyarra. It wasn't like she didn't feel the same, just to a much lesser extent. Joanna wanted to see their master and surprisingly to her not just because she wanted to ride him for hours. She missed him and it felt nice to miss someone again.

"Listen, it's been long enough that we can visit without people getting suspicious." Joanna had to deal with this when they got the news that Naraiz had arrived in King's Landing. The Lannister knew that they couldn't under any circumstances suddenly pack up and leave the second they heard Naraiz was back. If there weren't rumors surrounding his and Lyarra's relationship they would most certainly be after a stunt like that. "But I don't want you running off into the wilds on your own. We don't need the Northmen telling stories about some giant she-wolf running south as fast as possible."

"Shut up." Lyarra blushed as she was reminded about the new development in Lyarra's body that had shown itself. When they first arrived back in Winterfell there was still Maester Walys here, a month later Lyarra found out that he plotted to have her killed and her children sold off to southern houses. That's when the first change happened. Joanna still had nightmares of the sight of Lyarra changing into some beastly wolf creature and then stalking out of their room. The next morning Walys had been found ripped to pieces, his guts splattered all over his room and his head and manhood missing. Joanna was able to find Lyarra out in the Wolfswood first… covered in blood and surrounded by a pack of wolves. This was the first time that Lyarra changed and it wasn't the last.

"Here's what we are going to do, we are going to take a trip to White Harbor and then to the Vale. We'll see Eddard in the Eyrie and then travel to Harrenhal. We can even take Lyanna and Brandon. A mother and her children off on a trip to see her wayward sons, no one will bat an eye at that." She relaxed her grip and laid on top of her friend and lover. Lyarra also calmed down as she heard Joanna's plan and did admit that seeing Eddard sounded nice as well. "It will just take another month to set up and get everything ready."

"No, I want to see him now." The she-wolf snapped as she remembered something and shoved Joanna off her. It would be torture spending another day let alone month before seeing her love and master. Lyarra might have heard Joanna's shouts if she wasn't so focused on getting a special something. Reaching behind Joanna's bed to a spot that only she knew as Joanna never cleaned her own room, the Stark loved her best friend dearly but there were certain things about her that made her unmistakably Lannister. Lyarra then pulled out the small metal disk that Jaesa had left them in case of an emergency. "Now… how does this thing work again?"

"Is that what I think it is?" Joanna asked as she walked over to the Stark to look at the device that allowed their master and his allies to speak to each other across any distance. Both of the women still had difficulty thinking about the things that their master said was normal for the rest of the galaxy. The very idea of a galaxy in of itself was hard to wrap their heads around. Millions of worlds in an endless ocean of nothingness. But this device was small and easier to grasp. "I think you just press this…" Joanna pressed down on one of the outcropping bars of the black metal disk and the inner ring sprung to life. A faint blue glow emanated from the center and both women awed at this. Then it flickered further and there standing in the palm of Lyarra's hand was a woman with tails growing out her head.

"-Listen bitch I don't have time… oh… you're not Jaesa.-" The transparent blue woman said as she saw that it wasn't the person that was supposed to own the holoprojector was calling her.

"Uh no, we aren't." Joanna answered as she took the device from Lyarra's hands. "But she gave us this… thing, in case of emergencies and we needed to call Naraiz Rhyhall to confirm something." Joanna said making sure to catch herself from calling Naraiz master, a habit that had wormed into her mind nearly as bad as it was for Lyarra. While Joanna enjoyed the roleplay she found the constant adherence to it annoying when she consciously thought about it.

"-Oh, that doesn't sound like her. But I also highly doubt you could steal from her and still be breathing.-" The woman gave a sigh of exasperation but refocusing herself. Joanna then noticed that she was staring very intently at the collar that was around her neck. "-Exactly why do you need to talk to Naraiz?-" It was then that Lyarra scooped the disc out of Joanna's hands.

"I need to see him. How can I get this thing to make him appear like you did?" Lyarra said and the woman just stared again at the collar around Lyarra's neck. Then the hologram vanished and the two women were left with the sudden feeling that they might have made a mistake.

Harlello walked through the halls of the western keep that would be his home for the foreseeable future. The fact he had to walk around on his own two feet was a giant change as he was far more used to being carried around by a legion of slaves. But his guardian had told him several times that it would bring so many problems to both him and Harlello himself if he even attempted to be carried around. The Westerosi were so strange to the man from Volantis. And his feet were aching after a whole day of walking upon them, he knew they had people that claimed to be of noble birth here in the sunset kingdoms and yet they all degraded themselves to walking.

But now he was walking to see his guardian. It was a long-overdue talk that the man owed Harlello. What was he to do in this place, how was he supposed to learn to be a man as his grandfather wanted when he so very rarely saw the example that he had been sent to learn from. Harlello could understand that there were a great many duties and changes being done to this castle and that Darth Nagash was reestablishing his monk order here in Westeros, the Essosi was not a foolish or stupid man, he knew that these were important things that needed attention. But as the weeks went by he couldn't help but feel deliberately ignored.

As he approached the doors that were marked with a great sigil that he had overheard someone say Darth Nagash called the Imperial Symbol, he straightened his back and prepared to confront the man that was nearly insulting him. Despite the building irritation and even anger Harlello was feeling in the moment, he was still scared of the sorcerer. This was a man that had returned from the Doom and commanded powers unseen from the world since the days of the Freeholds. Fear was a natural reaction. He steeled himself even as he knocked on the doors.

Then they opened to reveal one of the Dothraki girls that Darth Nagash had fancied himself with. She looked very bored and with little enthusiasm wordlessly brought Harlello through the doors. He felt that Darth Nagash really should keep his slaves in better condition. The state of a man's property reflected their worthiness of respect. And if this Dothraki savage was anything to go by, Darth Nagash was worthy of little respect.

"The master will be out soon." She said as she left Harlello and left to one of the side rooms. He was completely alone and was able to take stock of what his guardian placed in importance. This main chamber of Darth Nagash's quarters was unlike much of the keep.

There were pieces of art and décor that he didn't recognize from any culture, though there were bits and pieces from many places. Among them was a Dothraki omen bead circle that hung over the fireplace's tower, then there was a Myrish glass pane chandler, and several fur pelts hung around the place in a tasteful manner. But the vast majority of the room was filled with pieces and furniture that had no place anywhere. They did not look to be Westerosi or from Essos. And that fit with what Harlello had heard of the far east. If he had to describe it, triangular, metallic, dark, and grand would be the words that came to mind.

The sound of the door opening brought the Volantian out of his obversions. He turned to see his guardian step out in a semi-open robe of fine black and red silk. Harlello knew that Darth Nagash was a warrior widely considered to be a great fighter but seeing some of the few scars that the partially open robe gave a view to helped prove that to the young man. The Sith gave a blank frown at Harlello, neither too annoyed or pleased to see him.

"I don't swing that way if that's what you're thinking about." He bluntly put before taking a sip of the steaming cup in his hand. Harlello blinked and started to open his mouth to make a response but Darth Nagash beat him to it. "I know that I have not been doing my honorable duty of teaching you and guiding you into manhood or whatever it is that the old tiger wants me to do with you."

"I understand you have a lot of business to conduct my lord, I don't really understand why my father ever thought this was a good idea to begin with. Sending me off to the sunset kingdoms in the wardship of a man that will no doubt have very little time for me. You have my sympathy for this whole mess." Harlello said as Darth Nagash walked over to the nearby couch and leaned on one of the arm chairs. All while maintaining a passive open eyed look of minor disinterest. Harlello was a bit unnerved, he never had anyone look at him so much like they were just watching a herd of cattle pass on by.

"The fact you don't know why your father sent you here is concerning." He said with a shrug and then sipped his drink.

"Do you know then?" Harlello asked, thinking that maybe Darth Nagash had some political insight into what was happening. He was a very smart man and could see the bigger picture so he must know the reasons behind his father's actions.

"I don't have the feintest fucking clue." He said with a noncommittal chuckle. "But the fact you don't know is concerning. You should know what is happening in your own house. Or at least have some vague idea." He said and Harlello felt a little ashamed at this. It was embarrassing when he thought about it, such a blindsiding move wasn't in his father's normal operating process. He kept his followers and family informed of what he planned on doing. His position was held through strength and iron will, not through intrigue and lies. If there was a hint of his father being dishonest then much of his support would crumble as it would be a sign of weakness for his father to resort to such tactics. Which could only mean that Harlello was left out on purpose.

"This is exile." Harlello breathed as it dawned on him. He had been cast out of the family and this was a good cover for it. The hope was that he would become enamored with Westeros and just stay. The opportunity for this was created by the fact his guardian wouldn't pay much attention to him and create a much longer period of time spent in Westeros. As there was no set time for Harlello to return but instead he would when his guardian deemed him a true man and worthy of adulthood. "But why, what did I do to deserve such a fate?" Harlello wasn't even talking to the Sith at this point. His mind was too wrapped up in thinking just what he could have done to earn this.

"Asking that question is only relevant if you want to go back. And if you want to go back than all I need to do is say you're a man and boom, your done." Darth Nagash offered and while Harlello had a small feeling of hope fill him, it wasn't to last. If his father wanted him gone he knew that it wouldn't be easy to return so soon. Doing so would already defeat much of the wardship's original purpose and thus bring shame as many would consider that he had simply conned his way back. That would also bring shame to Darth Nagash but Harlello knew that he knew that. This offer was only meant to signify that going back wasn't something that he should want anymore.

"T-thank you for this meeting my lord. But I believe that I have much to think on before we speak again." Again, Darth Nagash showed little care as the Volantian started his way out the door. But he had to mentally thank him for pointing out things that seemed so simple.

Benjen Stark watched from across the training yard as Rud Errol and his gang picked on Ronard Lannister and Aymee Hog. Those two seemed to be picked on the most of the noble born Acolytes. Though Rud's gang often went after the low born ones just as often. Benjen did the Stark thing and made sure to rally the older Northern Acolytes into protecting all of the low born from the North as well. He thought that maybe this was what his father must have felt like, gathering up his countrymen to protect the weaker ones from bullying invaders.

"You still think we shouldn't do something?" Howland Reed asked from where he sat next to Benjen. The Reed had quickly found himself as Benjen's right-hand man in this place, though given that he was several years older Benjen supposed that Howland just saw it as making sure that the young wolf could be protected. Howland also wasn't talking to Benjen in this instance, but to the Flint cousins. Colton and Daltis Flint, each from different branches of the Flint family, but one might easily mistake them for twins. Both were huge boys even though they were only nine and ten respectively.

"Why should we? It's a Lannister and the little lady piggy." Colton shrugged as they all watched Rud sit on Ronard, pressing the poor blond boy's face into the dirt. Nearby several of Rud's goons were pushing and shoving Aymee in a circle all while calling her names revolving around the pig theme her last name earned her.

"As long as we keep a close eye on our own, they'll be safe." Miana Snow said as she skipped into the group and leaned on Benjen's shoulder. She was one of the oldest Acolytes just hitting her teens. She also had a habit of popping into the Northern boys' little group and reminding them that she was older than all of them and thus smarter than them. "Everyone around here is looking to the familiar names and titles for leadership. Only the North and Dorne are really united at this point. Everyone else is scattered."

"Your point?" Daltis growled as Benjen knew that he distasted Miana just for her last name.

"My point is that we're all going to be here for a long time. And you heard Darth Nagash… we're setting the stage for the future of the Sith. Why should we let bullies like Rud set the tone?" Miana said with a frown and glare toward Rud who was wiping a stain of boogers on the Lannister's head. "Plus Rud is an ass and really needs to be taken down."

"She's not wrong." Howland said as he stood up and as he started walking toward Rud and his little gang, the Flint cousins shrugged in agreement and maybe a little bored as they followed the smaller boy. "Hey! Quit acting like some wildling." Howland shouted and instantly the much bigger boy he was yelling at stopped his torment of the Lannister boy and focused on the crannogman. The boy from the Stormlands stood up and Ronard quickly scrambled away.

"You said something you little mud-boy?" Rud asked as the rest of his gang quit their picking on Aymee and attempted to circle Howland. But then the Flint Cousins flanked Howland. They were still outnumbered twelve to three but the other side were far less experienced fighters. The northerners had been taught how to fight since they were born while many of Rud's gang never formed a fist until they arrived.

The nearby guards took notice of this but did nothing to stop it. They were under orders from both their lord and their captain to only interfere if any disputes proved too risky. Any sign of a blade or if they started choking each other out and only then would the guards come in to stop them. It was the main reason why they didn't help the other kids when they got bullied.

"I said quit acting like some wildling. You're a son of a noble house of the realm, you should act with some honor." Howland said and his words caused Rud to scowl and a visible vein to start throbbing. Just as Rud took a step forward however something happened and an arm came from behind him and turned him around. There Rud found himself headbutted by someone and then punched in the gut. He fell forward and his gang looked in shock but then they paled as they looked to see just who it was that attacked their leader. There stood Victarion Grayjoy with his rapidly becoming famous scary scowl on his face.

"Been wanting to punch someone since I got here." He spat on Rud before looking at all of his gang. "Right, you're all now my crew. First lesson, don't mess with a bog devil." Victarion said as his gaze landed on Howland who just glared back at the Iron Born. The now formerly gang members of Rud's group all fell in line pretty fast and followed the Victarion as he started walking away from the fight. Rud for his part scurried to get up and run after the group demanding a rematch. Benjen had watched all of this play out from afar and had a feeling this was a little too easy.

"You planned this didn't you?" Benjen asked as he looked up to Miana. The Snow was playing a bit with her curly chestnut hair and had a pleased smile on her face.

"Vicky over there wanted some friends, a crew of his own. I wanted to make sure that the North and Iron Islands don't fight in the Sith. And Rud is just a lesser noble that can be taken down for little risk." Miana explained all while sounding very happy with how things played out. Benjen supposed he should feel thankful that he had someone like that on his side. He just hoped that Miana was on his side.

Rathari stood in front of the Weirwood tree that stood at the very center of the Harrenhal Godswood. He found the idea of a Godswood to be a good one, there was something pure and natural to meditate on the Force. In his lap was his Force Sword, he would never actually refer to it as a Valyrian Steel Sword as that wasn't what it was. His lord had forged it using his knowledge of Force Alchemy and the methods that the Valyrians discovered but it was not the same as Valyrian Steel. Instead of the ripple pattern that Valyrian Steel had, it had an overlapping scale one. That in itself was enough of a distinction.

But semantics aside this was now his sword. He had already accomplished in discovering its true nature. The Sacred Trait that he held most closely to his soul. His Lord favored Duality, Power, and Death as his lord explained to him one night of meditating together. And Rathari was able to use that as a means to find just what was his Sacred Trait. And that was Endurance, he endured the centuries in Valyria and committed to the task of enduring the shame and disaster that had befallen an empire he helped build.

"You've come a long way since Nar Shaddaa." Rathari opened his eyes as he heard the voice of his lord. He stood up, turned, and bowed to the rightful emperor of the galaxy. Darth Nagash just chuckled at the display and slowly began pacing in front of Rathari, a habit that the Sith knew came from Naraiz's old master but would kill anyone if they pointed it out. Not that anyone alive today knew Darth Baras, and those that did would never deliberately insult Naraiz like that. "You've achieved Balance, ruled your own people and now are teaching the next generation of Sith."

"Yes, I am proud of most those things." Despite his feelings on how the Doom happened and those responsible, he still felt proud of the empire that he and the other Ture Followers had built. And finding his own Balance in the Force was an accomplishment that any Force user would forever consider their greatest achievement. The teaching matter on the other hand… that he could do without. He had been pulling back what few memories of his academy days he could recall. And even those he had to filter. Naraiz new, more gentler methods of training these children were not what Rathari was used to.

"They're coming along, what they really need most of all is to feel the Force. To just be able to sense it and then act on it. The rest will come naturally." Naraiz said with a dismissive wave of his hand but Rathari wasn't too sure on that. What they needed was someone that actually knew how to train younglings. "But that's not what I came to talk about." He said as he pulled out his swords from his hips. Rathari raised an eyebrow at this but didn't feel the least bit surprised.

The Sith then held onto his sword with both hands and took a variation on the Makashi redesigned for blades like his sword. A Bastard Sword was just a long sword with a double-handed grip, Form Two was primarily used with one hand on a longer lightsaber which weight rarely factored into. But different styles existed for all the Forms for all types of weapons, it's just that certain weapon types were more suited for certain styles of lightsaber combat.

"It has been a very long time since we have cross blades my lord." Rathari said as he gave a Makashi salute to Darth Nagash, he responded in kind even if he was unlikely to use Form Two. "I have learned many lessons from our battle in the Network Access of Nar Shaddaa, but I am still leagues behind you."

"Don't sell yourself short Rathari. And don't come to this fight ready to lose." Naraiz said as he pointed the tip of one of his sealed swords to Rathari's own blade. "Let me see your awakened Foci. The only chance you will have in this battle is if I'm the one with the handicap." He gloated but it was well earned. Rathari had watched this man fight and kill Darth Baras, then heard of the legendary fight between him and the Eternal Emperor. Sure… there were other people in that fight but those in the Empire knew who really carried that fight.

"Very well." Rathari said as he took a breath and focused his senses to his sword. "Last Through, Shâsot." Rathari spoke the unsealing keywords and the name of his Sacred Trait and future Tsân. Struggle, a pain filled test of endurance. It felt fitting and right. And just like whenever Darth Nagash unseal his swords, Rathari's bastard sword phased out of reality but for a moment but instead of black and white miasma for each of the respective swords, a gray shimmering smoke washed down over the blade and then vanished in a matter of seconds. There replaced the sword that Naraiz had crafted for Rathari was a long and thick blade shaped in a long rectangle with a small extension at the very end. The guard grew to accommodate the new size of the blade and was about as simple as one could get. The guard had become just a flat square and the hilt was now long enough for four hands let alone two.

"Simple and effective, it is a sword after your own heart Rathari." His lord remarked with a chuckle. "But what does it do? That's the real question." He said as he got into a battle pose knowing that it wouldn't be sporting for Rathari just to say it. Both Sith smirked at each other and slowly circled each other. Soon enough however it was the former Empire's Wrath that took the first shot and stuck out a finger from his sword's grip. With a drop down of that finger knew that he would be feeling a push down on his body and acted like he did. But he didn't and when Darth Nagash came swinging down with both his blades Rathari was ready and blocked it.

Then with a lunge forward, Rathari parried the two curved swords of the leader of the Sith. Knowing Naraiz as well as he did, he quickly began swinging his large blade at the edges of his opponent's body. Boxing him in and preventing him from jumping into the air and performing his Ataru acrobatics that he loved so much. Rathari did well to keep the two locked in a tight line of combat. The smirk on Naraiz's face had slowly faded as he didn't seem to be getting what he wanted out of the fight. Namely seeing what Rathari's awakened foci could do. But he soon got it.

Naraiz then attempted to disrupt the fight by pulling some rocks, using the Force he picked them up and flung them toward Rathari. But the master of the Sith was shocked when Rathari just leapt a few feet back and then lodged his sword into the ground. Then went wide eyed at the sight of the rocks swerving around Rathari's body and slammed into the flat of his wide blade. In the moment of confusion, Rathari took the initiative and fired off a blast of Force Lightning. But Naraiz had many years of battle instincts to call upon and easily absorbed the incoming attack into the tip of Saarai.

"Do you understand now, Shâsot's power is to redirect any Force based attack toward it instead of me. It endures the struggle of the Force while I endure the struggle of the physical world." Rathari said proudly but when he looked upon his lord's face at this he only found hurt and regret. "W-why?" Rathari asked as a small drip of blood started trailing out of his lip.

"Sorry, but the way I found my Tsân was nearly dying and between the two of you, I need Jaesa more." Naraiz explained as Saarai gently helped Rathari down to the ground. The dagger she had in her hand was still in his back and still piercing his heart. His eyes glazed over as he felt the blood in his veins find it difficult to move now that the pump was so damaged.

He struggled but he looked over to the Weirwood tree's horrible face. The darkness in the visage was kept at bay by the tree's overall light. It felt like a beacon of the Force that could last for as long as this world still was whole. He wanted that, to be able to stand strong as a bastion of the Balance. The Force was what made him and what saved him. He wanted to protect it with everything he had. To keep the Force Balanced and pulsing with life and eternity.

"W-will is the… the steel that c-controls our Minds. Strength… is… t-the resolve that that embraces… our Bodies. P-passion… passion is the fire that fuels our Soul." Rathari struggled to recite the words of the Balance. The words that had satisfied the Force and forever would be the markers of the true guardians of the Force. But he would do it, he had lived through trial and tribulation. He would endure and live. He felt himself grip tightly around his sword and that this was just another struggle that he would overcome. "Clarity is the true path to Victory. Upon this shadowed path of Dark and Light we find the Force." He finally finished and his body went limp.

When Rathari next opened his he found himself at the top of an impossibly tall tower. It was in ruins and as he walked to the very edge he looked down to see the stormy clouds several stories below. He didn't think that he was in Chaos as he had achieved Balance. But this didn't feel like a place that he would end up when he died. Which meant that this was his inner soul. Naraiz had described his own to Rathari and this was a far cry from a Noble Sith Family's ballroom. This was a place that he had never seen before but it felt familiar. The high skyscrapers of Kaas City or the tops of the Valyrian towers.

"You let him kill you… is there nothing you would object to if it came from that man's lips." Rathari then turned to see the only other person standing in the ruins he found himself. It was a hulking brute of a man, standing at just a little above eight feet tall. His body wearing tatters of some sort of uniform that Rathari didn't recognize but what drew the eye was the many shackles and chains that connected various parts of his body to each other. The biggest one was a collar around his neck with a chain that dropped down to the floor and didn't seem to end as its end twisted back into the shadows. Over his head was an iron Sith Mask, crude and beaten together.

"So you are my Tsân? Shâsot." Rathari asked but all the giant did was take a thudding step forward.

"Am I? Or am I just another tool to Naraiz Rhyhall just like you." Shâsot accused as he took another step, the chains that hung off his body rattled with each movement he made. Rathari continued to stare up at his Tsân, his resolve never in question. "Well, answer me. What is the point of struggle and enduring if it isn't for personal growth. To evolve and grow. While you have remained stagnant. You learn nothing from your struggle and pain." His deep voice echoed through the ruins and sounded over the cracks of thunder from below.

"You're right, I have stagnated. I do follow Naraiz blindly." Rathari said with a sad chuckle. Were there times that he hated his lord, yes. There were many times that he cursed Naraiz's name for not being there when all was falling apart. Both at the end of the Empire and the Valyrian Freeholds. A few times he even wished that Naraiz had simply killed him on Nar Shaddaa. But that would be too easy, to blame him for everything and leave it at that. "I follow him because he is my means to evolve."

"A goal to reach and overcome. You mean to kill Naraiz and take his place?" Shâsot asked, nothing in his tone gave away any feeling on that plan at all.

"No, he has ambition while my ambition died many years ago. He has a will about him that very few people have." Rathari knew that no matter how hard he trained or studied he could never do the things that other Sith had been able to do. Malgus, Nox, Revan, Nagash, Marr, Darths that accomplished things that he could never. He knew his part in the greater scheme of things. "Naraiz is my struggle because for as long as I follow him I will need to endure whatever hardships that he drags me into. It might be as simple as teaching younglings now but soon… it will be so much more. So that is my answer to you Shâsot, Naraiz is the greatest struggle I will ever have to endure." There was a dead silence between the two with only the stormy thunder below them to break up the empty air. Then the Tsân started to laugh, a thunderous laugh and filled Rathari's soul.

"That mad fool will drag you into all sorts of hell!" Shâsot bellowed, his voice laced with the sounds of clanging from his many chains. His iron masked face then looked back down to Rathari, its face forever etched into a blank passive face but Rathari could tell his Tsân was smiling. "I'm still going to punch him in the face when we wake up."

"Oh go ahead, he quite deserves it."

I watched my friend and faithful follower lay on the ground as I steamed in a flood of healing energy. The Light Side was ambient here in the Godswood and so I had plenty of help in this area that I did not have much skill in. I at least was able to keep him from actually dying.

"Naraiz-sama…" Saarai said but I ignored her and continued to focus on keeping Rathari alive. This was a stupid idea and I instantly regretted doing it. "Naraiz-sama." Saarai said again and I scowled as it was starting to get annoying. My friend was dying in front of me and it was all because I wanted to use him for one my stupid experiments. "Naraiz-sama."

"What!?" I snapped and looked up from Rathari's dying body. Then I noticed that I was in someone's shadow. My eyes glanced up to see a monster of a man with chains all over his body looming over me. The narrow slits in his iron mask were locked on me and before I could even form a proper response he slammed a fist into my face and sent me flying across the godswood.

"Naraiz-sama!" Saarai cried in distress as she ran to my side. My nose was broken and bleeding, I had a massive bruise all over my face and I could swear that I lost the ability to see orange. Saarai immediately began fussing over me as I struggled to sit up and start the process of using the surrounding Light Side Force to heal my injuries. I groaned as I felt a small bit of relief wash over my face like a gentle splash of water. Seeing my wounds start the slow process of healing, Saarai refocused her attention on the person that had hit me. "Why you disgusting brute, you could have killed him!" I had never seen Saarai angry like this… it was kinda hot I have to be honest.

"Doubt it." The beast of a man replied in one the deepest voices I have ever heard. I'm talking Michael Clarke Duncan deep. "If he could be killed that easily then he would have died a long time ago." The giant said as he reached down and placed a hand over the wound to Rathari's heart. He then removed his massive hand and I could sense life returning back to Rathari. A sudden gasp from the fallen man gave me all the confirmation I needed.

"Shâsot, please don't ever do that again." Rathari panted as he shot up, a hand placed on his heart checking its rate. I glanced at Saarai and she shook her head. My guess is this was something that only Rathari's Tsân could do. I then narrowed my eyes as I saw blood staining the tattered clothes Shâsot wore, right where his heart should be. Seems like his blade can pull Force Attacks and his manifested form can just pull any physical struggle Rathari is going through. Rathari then looked around and stopped as he landed on me. I expected yelling… lots of yelling. "My lord, you could warn me before doing something like that."

"Uh, okay." I did not expect that. "I mean your Tsân nearly restructured my face but I still expected you to… I don't know… scream at me for nearly killing you." I said with a small warning glare to Saarai as I could tell there was an ice cold comment locked and loaded and one that I didn't need her putting out there.

"While I appreciate the intent Shâsot had. I don't share it, this was just another challenge you have presented to me. And challenge is needed for growth." Rathari said as he stood up and began dusting himself off. His Tsân just stood behind him looking menacing as all fuck. I was certainly happy that it didn't turn out to be some hot masochistic woman that loved pain and torture. Because while I know that Rathari needed to get laid this help confirm that this power wasn't inherently a waifu generator.

"A challenge? I think you mean gracious opportunity." Saarai added as I guess she took it as a personal insult that my fuckery could be brought into any form of negative light. It seems that Rathari's Tsân didn't take kindly to this as he took a threatening step forward.

"No, more like a needless painful, deadly, torment that could have been avoided if he had given a little bit of thought that there might be other ways to unlock this power." Shâsot snarled and I could tell I was going to love him, sassy. The two Tsân looked to be locked in a battle of wills as both glared at each other. But given that Shâsot didn't actually have eyes I'm betting on him winning the staring contest. Rathari however decided he didn't want the two fighting and stepped between them.

"It happened, and it was painful but I got out of it stronger. I know that my lord regrets doing it." Rathari said as he looked at me and I nodded. The big lunk was right, I should try and develop a better means to unlock a Tsân. I just really wanted to prove that I wasn't the only one that could, that I just took a shortcut. Lucky you Jaesa, you get to go through the long and tedious process of experimenting just if it can be done without nearly dying. That is if it can be done at all for someone that hasn't achieved Balance.

"Regardless, we now know that the floor for achieving a Tsân is not stupidly high," I mumbled as I knew that Rathari was roughly equivalent to a Jedi Master or a higher level Sith Lord. He wasn't yet at Darth level but I could see him getting there. Determining the skill floor for acquiring both an awakened Force focus and a Tsân was high on my list. But for now, I had my starting point and there were still many other things that needed to be done.