Clarabel-La Rising

A Rage Seething

The young sith pureblood rubbed the blood from her lip and spit into the ground. She stood up, and in a swift motion threw dirt into her opponents eyes while shifting low for a sweeping leg kick.

She failed to connect, her older brother easily jumping over her slow leg. He then struck her across the face with a defeating kick and laughed walking to their father's side. He scolded her for her shortcomings and insisted if she could not beat her brother in combat then she didn't need food, instead her portions would go to her brother.

The young pureblood shook and blew her bangs out of her face then shifted into a kneeling position to meditate. The energy radiating off her was like liquid wrath. She squeezed her nails into her skin drawing blood while clutching her eyes shut. She tried to focus her rage, hone it, let it hone her into a well tuned weapon.

The evening passed and she refused to move, simply letting rage pour into her and flow through her like fire. Her brother came to her side and looked up at the stars.

 He crouched down and patted her shoulder, "hey, I brought you some milk and bread," She hated him, hated how he always undercut father, how he was always so kind to her. He was her rival, act like it. She moved to stand knocking the milk in the dirt and he spoke once more, "father is only trying to mold you into something even stronger than myself, you understand? We are the future of the sith."

Her eyes felt as if they were boiling, her skin like crawling ants. He dare try to explain father's will? To her? The dirt around her feet lifted off the ground and swirled slightly. Static charged their feet and she squeezed her nails into her hands harder. As her brother opened his mouth to speak once more he yelped and gripped at his throat as he felt It close.

His feet lifted off the ground and his throat closed more, she moved just beside him and hissed in his ear. "Die, die you pathetic excuse for a sith, I loathe you, DIE!"

She continued closing her invisible hand around his throat, petechiae setting in and spittle flying from his lips. She gave into her anger and gripped him with her hands and squeezed till her fingers touched, her brother's eyes bulging from his face. Finally his head flopped to the side and the life faded from his corpse.

That's when she sensed an onlooker. Her father clapped his hands together slowly and stepped out from the shadows. "Now you're ready to take the next step in your training, clean up your mess."

The young sith wiped the sweat from her face and simply nodded, dragging her still warm brother off to be disposed of. The next morning she was taken to Korriban to train in the way of the sith as was her legacy, her right, her destiny.

The young sith aged and ascended through her trials. Some of them simple and trivial others like the time she was dispatched to eliminate a Gundark nest with only the force, were found to be trivial but with consequence. She inhaled a lethal gas damaging her lungs beyond repair and now requires a rebreathing apparatus or she will suffocate within minutes.

She grew fond of the Ataru form to overwhelm her opponents with acrobatics and power. She proceeded to hone her force abilities enhancing her form and feeding her fetish for choking her enemies.

Eventually after multiple trials she caught the eye of Darth Talon who took her as an apprentice, often assigning her to assassinations or interrogations of the Empire's enemies. It wasn't uncommon to find her red blade dancing in furious dashes back and forth between targets.

Now, the sith named Clarabel-La kneeled before her master awaiting her new assignment. She had heard another lord's apprentice was to be on assignment with her, now she would see.