Chapter 27: The Legend of Zenna

Zenna's POV

The burnished halls of Korriban's arena hummed with the anticipation of blood sport. I could feel the thrumming energy coursing through my veins, a siren call to the darkness I'd learned to embrace. Last year's victory was a furious blaze of glory that still flickered in the back of my mind, and here I was again, ready to claim what I believed was mine by right.

Excitement clawed at me with passion as I sharpened my focus, each breath a silent vow to conquer. But there was a gnawing emptiness where elation should have been, a hollow echo that resonated with Vex's absence. To win without fighting him. It was like a shattered stained glass window, where the colors no longer came together to form beauty but instead created a jagged and painful mosaic.

"Zenna," I whispered to myself, a mantra to steel my resolve, "you are the reigning champion. You will triumph for your own sake." Yet, the thought of Darth Relic's gaze upon me twisted my insides with a strange cocktail of ambition and yearning.

'Will he be watching? Would his enigmatic eyes find pride in my ferocity? If I win, will he ignite his saber and thrust it deep within me, only to take it out after he is sweating on top of me with his virile seed deposited deep within me. The next generation of our Sith Dynasty racing to my eggs.' I start drooling while my hand goes lower and lower. Until another thought snaps me out of it.

Bitterness tainted my readiness as I considered my actual opponent, Ya-ta Kesyk. The undercurrent of anger surged hotly at the memory of her treachery, her machinations that led to Vex's disqualification. A cheap trick to rob me of a worthy adversary, to rob him of his chance. My brother, my confidant, was the only one other than Darth Relic who understood the fire within me.

I frown. It feels like there is some other reason to hate Ya-ta, but I can't place it. 'Regardless, all Twi'lek women are disgusting tentacled monsters. I am of the mindset to keep the Sith population clean.'

"Focus, Zenna," I chided myself, pushing away thoughts of Vex, Darth Relic, and my dream for a pure order of the Sith. Today was about victory, about proving that I was more than just an Eras scion. I was a force of nature they would all reckon with.

And so, with the weight of legacy on my shoulders and the fire of retribution igniting my soul, I prepared to step onto the arena once more. If Darth Relic was watching, I'd make damn sure he wouldn't be able to look away.

*****

The thunderous cheers of the audience echoed through the stadium like a raging storm. Every shout and cheer, a wave crashing against the cliffs of my resolve. I strode onto the stage with a fire in me that would scorch even the Sith of old. Across the sandy expanse, Ya-ta stood with the smugness of a Wampa ensnaring its prey. 'But I am not prey, and she was no predator, not to me.'

The thrill of getting to use our actual weapons for the finals filled me with eager anticipation. My hand wrapped around the hilt of my Lightsaber, the familiar coolness of the metal grounding me as I faced her. With a flick of my wrist, the red blade hissed to life, a beacon of my fury and a testament to the power coursing through my veins. Ya-ta ignited her own saber, the unnatural purple glow an affront to the crimson sea of Sith tradition.

"You are a disgusting Whip-neck." I couldn't help but throw an insult at such a lowly creature.

When the Gong sounded we leaped towards each other, our sabers meeting in a clash that sang a song of sparks and raw energy. The collision was a call to arms, and I answered with a barrage of strikes, each one driven by the relentless drumbeat of my heart. The dance was familiar, a deadly ballet choreographed by years of training and a lineage steeped in the ways of the Sith.

Ya-ta matched my aggression with grace, her movements fluid and taunting, but I could see it in her eyes. She knew I had the edge in saber combat, that my blade was an extension of my will, and I would not be denied. Each swing I made was a promise, each parry a declaration: I was Zenna Eras, champion of last year's tournament, Future Wife of Darth Relic, Progenitor of the New Empire! I would not fall here.

I pressed forward, my saber cutting through the air like a predator diving for the kill. My focus narrowed to the space between us, to the hum of our sabers and the subtle shifts of Ya-ta's footing on the sandy floor. The Force guided my hand, swift and unerring, I allowed myself a sliver of satisfaction as I drove her back step by step.

Yes, let the crowd bear witness. Let them see the light of the Eras family. Let them see the determination that flowed through my blood. And if he was out there, watching from the shadows, let Darth Relic see the depth of my passion, the ferocity of my love. This battle was more than a mere contest; it was my declaration to the Galaxy and to him. My eyes shined with focus.

I had her on her back foot, my confidence surging with every strike. Sweat beaded on my brow, but not from fear. No, it was the exhilaration of the imminent victory that fueled me. The crowd's roar faded into nothingness; it was just Ya-ta and I, our blades the only conversation worth having.

Then it hit me, a sudden chill that crept like frost up my spine, seeping into my bones. Sith, sorcery. It clawed at the edges of my mind, a whisper of dread that sought to unmake my resolve. Ya-ta's smug voice whipped through the haze, "I know about your... fixation with Darth Relic."

I faltered, the red glow of my saber flickering as if reflecting my inner turmoil. Her words were a toxin, spreading doubt with a potency that no physical venom could match.

"I heard, through the grapevine, another woman was seen with him," she taunted, a vile grin stretching across her face.

The blade in my hand felt heavier, my limbs betraying the strength they once boasted. Despair gnawed at me, a beast unleashed. With every parry, every dodge, the dirty Lek-head whispered lies, or..... perhaps truths, that I couldn't bear to confront.

"You could never satisfy a Dark Lord like him."

My swings grew erratic, but not from a loss of skill. No, it was the weight of my own heart that dragged them down.

I wasn't struggling, not physically. My body knew the motions, the dance of combat that had always come so naturally. But inside? Inside, I was shattering, piece by piece, with each mention of his name, with each suggestion of his betrayal.

"I bet Darth Relic is already married even." She taunted.

The idea of another holding his gaze, igniting a spark that was meant solely for me... It was a blight upon my soul.

'Focus, Zenna.' I snarled inwardly, trying to claw back the ground I had lost. With each poisonous word from Ya-ta's sneering lips, my guard slipped, once unbreakable, now crumbling like ancient ruins.

"He could never love someone like you," she hissed, her purple saber a blur as it met mine. The sound of clashing energy filled the arena, a harsh symphony to my unraveling.

"Stop lying!" I spat back, but my voice was less conviction and more a plea. My heart hammered against my chest, each beat a reminder of what I might lose.

'What if she is telling the truth?' My thoughts were consumed with a fear that didn't seem to originate from within.

Darth Relic, my enigmatic obsession, the focus of my every waking thought... the idea of him with another twisted inside me like a vibroblade.

I could feel the eyes of the crowd, their excitement palpable as they witnessed not just a duel, but the disintegration of my composure. My movements grew sloppy, my strikes predictable. It wasn't fear of defeat that seized me. It was the terror of unrequited love, the possibility that my deepest desires were nothing but a fool's dream.

"Admit you're lying!" I screamed, tears streaking down my face as our sabers clashed again. Desperation clawed at my throat, each word a mix of demand and despair. But Ya-ta merely laughed, her eyes glinting with malice.

"Prove me wrong, then," she taunted, pushing me back with a powerful sweep of her blade.

'Fear'

I stumbled, my boots scraping against the stone floor. The world spun, a dizzying vortex of doubt and anguish. And then, it happened, I fell. Not just in stature, but in spirit. Collapsed onto the cold ground, I could still hear the roar of the crowd, the hum of our sabers, the relentless echo of Ya-ta's cruel laughter.

'Anger'

The match wasn't over; it continued, as relentless as the Sith code itself. Yet there I was, caught in the grip of an agony far worse than any physical blow. My mind raced, consumed by unending visions of Darth Relic's betrayal, the specter of his indifference haunting me more than any ghost ever could.

'Hatred'

"Please," I whispered between ragged breaths, my gaze fixated on Ya-ta's smug silhouette. "Please be lying..."

'Power'

Ya-ta loomed above me, her disgusting purple saber humming with malice. The Korriban tournament was supposed to be my moment, but there I was, dirtied and broken at her feet.

'Fear, Anger, Hatred, Power.'

It hit me, an electric surge deep within my core. My eyes flared, ablaze with an inner hatred hotter than the plasma in my blade. The Force flooded into me like a tidal wave crashing through my veins. It was exhilarating, terrifying, everything all at once. I could see the invisible threads weaving the universe together, each one pulsing with life. My fear of losing the one I most deserved has brought me this gift.

'Get. Up.' The words weren't spoken, but they echoed in my skull.

With a furious cry, I unleashed a wave of power from my very soul. I didn't just push against Ya-ta; I pushed against the Galaxy. The Force repelled me, and I rocketed upwards, standing tall amidst the gasps and cheers that erupted from the crowd. Even as the tears dried on my cheeks, a feral grin carved its way onto my lips.

Ya-ta stumbled back, her sneer faltering into confusion. She hadn't expected this. No one had. But I wasn't about to let her, or anyone, see weakness in me again. Not when I had strength like this coursing through my blood, not when the Force itself seemed to sing my name.

"Come on," I growled, low and dangerous. "Is that all you've got?"

The crowd's roars became the drumbeat to which we'd dance this deadly ballet. And I was ready to lead.

Rage boiled in my blood, a seething cauldron of fury and scorn. I knew the whispers, the sneers behind the cupped hands of the crowd thinking this was my loss. But let them watch, let them see how wrong they were. If Darth Relic's gaze had strayed, then by the stars, I'd tear his new fancy apart limb from limb. His heart would be mine again, even if I had to pry it from another's dead grasp.

'Relic is mine!' My thoughts screamed within me, a silent howl that fueled my every move. I was the embodiment of fury, an act of the son, clad in flesh.

I surged forward, as raw power coursed through me. Ya-ta's own blade met mine with a shower of violent sparks, illuminating our twisted snarls.

"Your tricks are pathetic!" I spat at her, my voice cutting through the chaos of the crowd. Her sorcery, meant to intimidate, to dominate? Useless against my newfound might.

"Are you afraid?" I taunted, pressing my advantage as her purple blade wavered like a flag in the storm. The fear in her eyes was delicious. She backed away, her confidence shattering with every step she took. Each clash of our sabers sang a song of my resurgence, of my unshakable resolve.

"Your Sith sorcery backfired!" My shout echoed over the roar of spectators hungry for carnage. Every word was a hammer blow, each syllable a nail sealing her fate. Her form, once so sure and steady, now faltered under the weight of her dread.

This wasn't just a duel; it was my announcement to the Galaxy. I was Zenna Eras, and I would not be cast aside. Not by Ya-ta, not by the onlookers, and certainly not by Darth Relic. My love, my obsession, he would be mine, no matter the cost. And as Ya-ta's defenses crumbled before me, I knew victory was within my grasp.

The world cracked open in my vision, a lattice of luminous lines weaving through everything, binding the universe in a tight net of power. My eyes—glowing conduits to the Force itself could see every weak seam in Ya-ta's defenses.

'I am more than just a Sith. I am the fury that whispered in the dark, the unseen terror of nightmares made flesh.'

With a primal scream, I leaped at Ya-ta. Lightsaber held foreword. No forms now, no practiced maneuvers from dusty old holobooks. This was pure instinct. A frenzied beast loosed from its cage. My hands were instruments of chaos, striking with the precision of one who could see the very bones of the cosmos.

"Where's your sorcery now, Ya-ta?" I hissed, each word punctuated by a blow that sought out the weaknesses only I could perceive. Her saber flailed a desperate dance of light, trying to ward off the inevitable. But she was slow, so agonizingly slow. My hands, guided by a divine will, hammered at her defenses, tearing them down like the walls of a besieged fortress.

She stumbled to the ground, and I was on her, relentless. My fists became a maelstrom, each punch a promise of a kiss to my dear Darth Relic. Her cries filled the air, a symphony to my rage as I drove her to the ground. She buckled under the onslaught, her body no match for the monsoon that I had become.

"Feel it whip-neck!" I snarled, every hit a commitment of pain, a vow of domination. The taste of victory was sweet on my tongue as I witnessed the fight leaving her glare, saw as she lost consciousness, and her beaten body went limp. She lay there, a broken idol at the feet of a new deity, and I knew then that nothing would stand between me and Darth Relic. Not anymore.

As Ya-ta's crumpled form lay still, the silence between each of my pounding heartbeats was deafening. I flicked off the humming red blade, its glow dying like the last embers of a star storm. My chest heaved every breath, a mix of triumph and fury. Tossing my head back, I thrust my arms up toward the searing Korriban sky, a visceral cry tearing from my throat that echoed the raw power coursing through me.

"Come and claim your new wife, Darth Relic!" My voice clawed its way over the stands, demanding, defiant. Cheers crashed around me like a tidal wave as the spectators sensed the birth of a legend. Their roars fed the inferno inside me, stoking flames of a victory no one could steal away. Not Ya-ta, not destiny, not even the stars themselves.

With my declaration hanging in the air, my emotions began to cool. The threads of the universe that I could see were slowly fading. Briefly, as I glanced at the stands, I saw Vex with a terrified look on his face. More curious than that, though, Despite being far away, it almost looked like he Had a handful of…. Force Parasites on him? No better word came to mind.

As quickly As I noticed, it all faded away.

"Huh, I wonder what that was?"

*****

Vex's POV

I watched from the stands, Fear slowly sinking its claws into me as Zenna's display of power reached new heights. My sister has always been gifted, but this...this was something more. I can sense her in a way unknown to me.

"She's like Cade Skywalker…" I speak fearfully "She can see the shatterpoints."

'She might even be able to heal the recently deceased. But that would mean she can also use the Force to unravel the living.'

I looked towards Sola who was staring at me with her own terror. "She really wants Darth Relic."

"Sola," My voice shook with anxiety. "I think she has a power to destroy in a way the sith haven't seen before. I'm not sure I could take her in a fair fight." I sigh.

Sola stared at me for what felt like minutes. "Then thank the empress she is your sister."

I nod at Sola's words. 'She's right.'

"But what if she doesn't give up her hunt?" I ask Sola.

Sola shook her head. "I don't know." 

She took a huge sigh. "We have to grab the clearance codes." She tries to snap us out of our awe.

I nod in agreement as we dawn our cloaks.