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Silas knew he had a long way to go before he could consider himself truly a Sith. He lacked much of what the other initiates had instilled in themselves, be it merciless disregard for their fellow classmates or the stomach for death. The only common ground he truly had with these others, Juin...

And just like that, they were left standing there as Juin began to bolt off into the jungle like a wild animal. It took him a moment to gather himself, watching as the Mirialan moved with speed he couldn't have ever anticipated. This bet he had made was only getting worse and worse but as Freyja...

Silas was nothing if not attentive as the Sith Master explained the shortcomings of his suggestion, silent with a single nod as he contemplated what she had said. The ways of war, battle and bloodshed are a foreign concept to the boy but it was clear this would all change soon. The thought of...

Silas’ eyes grew wide with excitement, his mood lifting drastically as the small pond and foliage came into view. He nearly succumbed to the urge to tear off his tunic and sprint forth and dive in but fear of retribution for such lack of restraint kept him in check. For now, at least. This...

Dagger in one hand, the other rubbing his neck, Silas dwelled on how this was far from anything he had expected. He was, after all, brought here unwillingly and subjected to this torment by forces beyond his own. Even so, the burning desire to succeed that had plagued him much of his life...

Silas' brow furrowed as Cyu made mention of being watched, once more looking out across the desert and seeing nothing. Was this what being Sith was? Constant paranoia? Or was this just Cyutadakyr's own consternation spilling outward? “If you say so,” the boy grumbled, his sword hand resting on...

“Galaxygram? Hang on, I don't think-” Silas began, a knot forming in the back of his throat. The idea of being broadcasted across the holonet in fishnet leggings flashed across his mind, the only thing deeper than the wedgie of the shorts he could be forced to wear being the scowl plastered...

Silas hated this place. It was hot. It was bright. It was quiet. If he had the choice, he'd turn around and march right back to the ship that had brought him here but he needed to prove himself if he aspired to be anything within the ranks of the Sith. There was no choice. It was either do or...

As the remainder of the Initiates filed through the gates, Silas allowed himself a moment to size up each as they approached. Majority of them appeared worried. Some as though they had spent the entirety of the previous night tossing and turning in anticipation of the event they were looking...

The only familiarity Silas would find on Umbara to the life he had left behind was just how dark it was. Everything else was entirely foreign to him, further amplified by the confusion on why his father had even brought him here to begin with. For days he racked his mind, battled the mysterious...

The fog was difficult to blink from his eyes but as his surroundings became clear, Silas soon aware he was no longer on Coruscant nor was he within the speeder that had been used to abduct him. His head throbbed but as he tried to bring his hand to his temple, he found it secured to a massive...

Above the massive skyscrapers and buzzing speeder lanes, the Coruscanti sun began to dip behind the horizon. The sky was vivid and alive in hues of orange and crimson with the silhouette of hundreds, if not thousands, of craft coming and going from the ecumonopolis. Truly a beautiful and...