Light & Dark

This is Chapter 1 of a book about JvS. It is not that well written, and may contain many typos. I will be editting this often until I'm satisifed with it. It is more like a "preface" to the story, Light & Dark.

As you may see, some of the things written in here have to do with recent clan events (clan server, Layfons leave, Shinobis leave, rsG's leave). I found this appropriate especially because of the part about Layfon, I dedicate this chapter to him.

So here goes Chapter 1: Legendary Layfon.

It was a dark and misty night. Even the vivid lights of the city could not cut the dense fog. The only thing audible was the sound of two pairs of foot steps. An old jedi master, Zadarr, and was walking with his padawan in the thick of the night. They walked beside eachother, staying on pace with eachother. Master Zadarr was focusing on teaching his padawan, a boy of 15 years, the importance of staying on a rhythm in battle. “This may seem irrational to you, Fryst, but it will make sense to you in time. While you are staying parallel to me, keeping the same pace as me, go over a persistent beat in your mind to assist you.” Fryst, Master Zadarr’s padawan, focused his eyes on the movement of his feet, as a child focuses on an object when he is meditating or in deep thought. After several minutes of doing so, he replied, “I see how this helps. Keeping a consistent beat in my head kept me aware of your rhythm as well. If you attempted to attack me, I would sense your change or lack of rhythm.” Zadarr’s eyes widened at the impressive understanding of padawan. “You know, Fryst, I have a strong feeling that you should begin training for trials. I will seek other opinion about this, so I am sure I'm not biased or my mind is clouded." Fryst was so excited about his master's words, that he clutched his saber as if his trials were begining now. He could smell the burn from the clash of sabers already. He could taste the sweat, the tension, and the adrenaline of trials. He was nervous already. He clutched the bottom of his lightsaber, whipped it off his belt, and began throwing it into the air in flips. They continued to discuss his improvement in all areas, and how he still needed more discipline and practice. While he was having a discussion with his master, Fryst continued to flip his emerald green saber hilt. He failed to notice a root on top of the trail in front of him, and tripped. He managed to regain his balance before toppling over, but his saber was mid-air. His master reached out his long arm and received the air borne saber into his right hand. They both stopped, everything was silent. Although it was thick and foggy outdoors, Fryst did not fail to notice his master’s eyes looking through him. “This,” his master said while holding the saber up, “Is your tool to everything. This weapon ensures you will need no other means to win a battle. With the Force, and the determination of your mind, you will overcome all battles. You may not be win or be victorious in every duel you encounter, but in your mind, after the confrontation, you will overcome the battle. You will review your movement, your footwork, your rhythm. You will focus on what you did incorrectly, and what you should have done in place of wrongs. Combat will become your life during training. You will meditate on your battles. You will become one with combat.” Zadarr didn’t say this to his padawan in a lecturing or scolding method. He was enlightening his padawan on what he should enact to obtain success and always achieve the next ranking. His padawan held the stare for a few moments while he thought, but then replied, “I agree.” Zadarr made a content nod and handed the light saber to his padawan. Fryst continued to maintain the rhythm with his master, but observed the magnificence of his master. The straight stance his legs always maintained, the pulsing muscle which had been through countless battles with jedi and sith. Zadarr experienced many battles with one of the legendary jedis, who was his master. Master Zadarr was the padawan of a jedi who fought in the clone wars. However, Zadarr’s master, Shinobi Kenshi, was slain in battle before he could complete the training with his master. Fortunately, his master was slain before “Order 66”, the order executed by Chancellor of the jedi order to eliminate all remaining jedis. This order was given to the clone warriors, the infantry of the jedi in the clone wars. Fryst’s mind went on a thought trail. It jumped from the greatness of his master to the thought of trials again. He began to flip the hilt again. Master Zadarr noticed his padawan doing this, but muttered with a slight chuckle to himself, “They never learn.”
The Jedi Academy was viewable in the distance. Fryst jumped from trials to another topic—the sith. He had heard much about these men, but had been confused by several rumors. He was no longer sure what to think about them, much less have a concise opinion on them. He looked at his master, sure that he would know something about them, seeing as he has encountered them personally. He eventually gained the courage to ask,
“Zadarr, what were the sith like? Were they excellent warriors like jedi?” Zadarr shot Fryst a puzzled look.
“What brought these questions on, Fryst? Have the boys in your sleeping quarters been telling stories again?”
“Well,” replied Fryst, “I’m just curious as to what they were like. Just the kind of knowledge one would like to be aware of, y’know?”
“I’ll tell you a story about a sith I knew my entire life up until I was about 25 years of age. But we must stop walking and find a place to sit.”
The two searched for one of the benches set out by the Jedi Academy for occasions like this. They finally came upon one, hidden in the shadows under a tall, thick willow tree which had no leaves.
“The man’s name was Xalidin, or Layfon. As a jedi, his name was Xalidin. As a boy, all of the Council saw great things in this boy’s future. Master Yoda had visions of him fighting like the jedi warriors of old, with passion, strength, and reflexes of lightning. He blocked every swing, countered every misguided slash, and defeated every opponent. The only disturbing part of Yoda’s vision was the color of Xalidin’s light saber. It was the color white. Only those who have the rank of Exile have this color blade. Since he was already a jedi, this could only mean that Xalidin was to become a sith. Yoda concealed the color of Xalidin’s blade in his mind, not informing the rest of the Council. As Xalidin grew, he lived up to the Council’s expectations.
“He was tenacious in battle, and used every move to his advantage—even his opponents. He overpowered his peers faster than any of the jedis training in the same period as him—including myself. Mine and Xalidan’s blade clashed a large amount of times. I only gained an advantage over him 3 times in battle, and even then his energy and strength was deplenished by many previous battles. The Force was truly his ally, and it favored him greatly. By the age of twelve, he had learned how to cast lightning from his hands, by sheer experimentation. By the age of 16 he sparred with Yoda in a battle for 45 minutes, neither gaining advantage. He broke down the walls jedis normally create around themselves in regards to the force. He could do everything the lengendary sith could do, with the same strength. He trained in The Academy for countless hours until he was sore all over. His muscles were rocks, covered with bulging veins. The feeling of his strength pressuring on your blade was unbareable.
“Many became jealous of the abilities of Xalidin. They critiqued him for being stronger than anyone in his studies and sparrings. It became so severe that they developed pet names for Xalidin. In one of his scheduled dules he was matched with one of the boys who named him “the chosen one”, sarcasticly. Xalidin tore the clothes of this boy, stripped the metal covering of his light saber, and destroyed his dignity. The boy, nicknamed rsG, encouraged Xalidan to finish him off. Xalidan only replied with, ‘Don’t make me kill you.’ The boy assaulted Xalidan physically, and failed to injure Xalidan. Xalidin became drained of energy because of rsG’s petty attempts to hurt him. He used the Force power of ‘grip’ on the boy, which used the Force to choke him.
“The jedi proclaimed this illegal in sparrings, and the observers halted the battle. Xaldin was fed up with the weak being defended. The observing Jedi Trainer attempted to take Xalidin’s blade, but he refused. The Trainer attempted again, but failed.
‘Please hand the hilt to me, Xalidin.’
‘I refuse to spare the weak’, he replied.
‘I will use force, young Knight.’
“Xalidin used the Force to throw the Trainer against a Force training obstacle, knocking him unconscious. Xalidin was suspended from The Academy.
He was never seen again after that incident bearing a blue blade. He returned during the Cult of Ragnos incident, bearing the new name Layfon, and dueled Kyle Katarn. Kyle could not kill Layfon, and was forced to escape the duel. Kyle explained that Layfon was incredibly skilled. More than he had ever seen a man bearing a red blade bare.”
“Siths are elegent warriors, just like the jedi,” he continued, “but they live by a different code. They do not believe in sparing the weak, or the unpromising. They desire power, skill, and ally.” Fryst now had many opinions of the siths. “I thank you greatly, master,” said he. “Now, let’s continue to the Academy.” As they stood up from the bench and began to walk, Master Zadarr threw his hand in front of Fryst’s chest. “Stop,” he said, “I have one last thing to ask of you.” His padawan looked Zadarr in the eyes, to acknowledge his attention.
“Do you smell that scent being carried by the wind?”
“I smell nothing out of the ordinary.”
“So, your nose does not sense that scent of frost?”
“Master, frost does not have a scent. Frost is something seen with the eyes, and possibly tasted by the tongue. Not something acknowledged by the nose, besides when it is rather cold and the frost nips at the skin.”
“I smell it. It smells like an evergreen forest.”
“I don’t understand…”
“When a man has spent the amount of time I have in meditation and training with the Force, he begins to learn things about the body he did not know. Things many do not know. With the amount I have used my mind in meditation, I have covered all the far reaches my mind contains. I have learned how to sense the things I see and feel with my nose. All the senses will become one with continuous meditation. Do not attempt this in your daily meditation, or try to understand it, for you will not. It will come in time. When I see frost or feel the presence of frost, I smell it as well. It smells of an evergreen forest when it is in its most flourishing season.”
“Why do you smell an evergreen forest when you see and feel frost? I don’t see a connection.”
“Again, don’t attempt to understand this on first encounter. But, I smell this because it matches my mental picture I have attached to the word “frost”.
When I think of frost, I see an evergreen forest, the top covered in a thick, white, blanket of snow.”
“Oh! So when you see or feel the frost, you smell an evergreen forest because of mental pictures? Seems to be an expected answer.”
Out of the cornor of each man’s eye, a figure stepped out of the shadows, to the left of the bench. The figure was about Fryst’s height, and was dressed in Academy uniform.
“Enough of this talk! I know, Master Zadarr, that you sense I’m near. Who doesn’t?” This voice belonged to a good friend of Fryst, and an acquaintance of Zadarr, Frost. Zadarr saw Frost, and smelled the evergreen forest.
“Good to have you join us on our walk back to The Academy, Frost.”
“Frost, only? How rude, not greeting me too.” This other voice belonged to the brother of Fryst, Xzavier.
“My bad, Xzavier, I’m sorry I failed to greet you.”
“It’s all good,” Xzavier answered.
“Well, young padawans, it’s time to return to The Academy. I’m not going to question why—or how—you managed to get away from The Academy, because it’s too late for that business. I’ll escort you all back to your quarters, on the Fourth Floor.”
When they arrived at The Academy, Master Zadarr stepped in front of everyone to insert his authorization card. He did so, and was disturbed at the rejection message. He tried seven more times, but the system refused to open the doors. “Well, young men, it seems we will be spending the night out here. The door man has evidently gotten drunk on shift again and has dozed off, and my card is not working, so we’re locked out,” Zadarr said with an annoyed expression.
All of the padawans moaned with displeasure and slid their backs slowly against the walls to work their way to the ground. After sitting for almost 10 minutes, another figure appeared from out of the darkness, this time walking towards the Academy, on the trial.
“Am I glad to see you guys. Holy stars am I lucky,” said the figure. When he was in the light, his face revealed Imare, a friend of them all.
“Uh, Il, Zadarr’s card is not working. We’re all locked out,” said Xzavier.
Ilmare’s shoulders sank with his head and he said as if it were his last breath, “Shit, I have the worst luck.”

Have decided this is going to be the introduction. This and a few coming chapters. The actual "story" will begin when present day comes in.