Months passed since Kael's arrival aboard the Executor, and during that time, his training had grown increasingly intense. The once-childish features of his face had begun to sharpen. His body, still youthful, had grown lean and stronger. His black hair had grown longer, falling just past his shoulders, and his brown eyes, once wide with uncertainty, were now narrowed with focus and calculation. He had shed much of his boyhood, and with it, the innocence he once held. Now, the weight of the dark side was beginning to take root within him.
Kael was stronger—stronger in the Force, in his combat skills, and in his understanding of the Sith ways. But Darth Vader remained a constant, looming figure, always observing and pushing him further. Vader's cold, calculating presence was a reminder of the path Kael walked. It was a path toward power, but one that demanded sacrifice.
One evening, after a particularly grueling training session, Kael entered the chambers where he had been instructed to meet Vader. His body was sore, bruises and cuts marking the skin on his arms and chest, but his mind was clear. His connection to the Force had grown stronger in ways he hadn't imagined. Every day, every moment, he pushed himself further, reaching new heights of strength. But tonight, something was different.
Vader stood before him, towering in his black armor. This time, there was no training remote or floating pieces of debris. This time, there was a different challenge.
"You have made progress, Kael," Vader's voice rumbled, echoing through the chamber. "But tonight, you will face a test. A real test."
Kael straightened, his pulse quickening. He had grown accustomed to training, to the sparring matches that pushed his abilities to their limits. But a real test? He had no idea what Vader meant.
The Sith Lord extended his hand, and from a dark alcove behind him, a long, sleek object emerged. It was a lightsaber hilt—black, curved, and intricately designed. Kael's heart skipped a beat.
"This is your weapon," Vader intoned, his voice low and commanding. "You will need it to face Lord Bane."
Kael took the lightsaber hilt in his hands. It was heavier than he expected, but it felt right. His fingers curled around it, the cool surface smooth beneath his touch. He ignited it, and the familiar snap-hiss filled the room. The blade that shot forth was a deep red—vibrant, glowing with a pulsing energy. Kael's breath caught in his throat. The blade was an extension of him now. He could feel the Force swirling around it, guiding his grip.
"This blade is an extension of your power, Kael," Vader's voice broke through his moment of awe. "It is a tool, but it will also test your resolve. Lord Bane will test you. He is a Sith of considerable strength, and he will show you your weaknesses. Do not let your emotions guide you."
Kael nodded, his grip tightening around the hilt of his saber. The red blade was more than just a weapon—it was a symbol. A symbol of his growth, of his journey down the path of the dark side.
Without another word, Vader gestured, and the chamber doors opened. Lord Bane entered, his crimson lightsaber already ignited. The older Sith apprentice's armor gleamed in the dim light, his posture exuding confidence and experience. Kael felt a twinge of uncertainty, but he forced it down. This was his moment. The moment when he would prove himself.
The two stood in the center of the room, their lightsabers raised. Bane's red blade hummed menacingly, while Kael's red blade pulsed with the energy of the Force.
"Begin," Vader's voice commanded.
The combat began in an instant. Bane was fast, his strikes coming without warning. Kael barely had time to react, but his instincts kicked in. His red blade met Bane's crimson one, the clash sending sparks flying in all directions. Kael moved quickly, using the Force to enhance his reflexes, but Bane was relentless. Every strike was a test of Kael's endurance, his agility, and his control.
Kael wielded his lightsaber in a reverse grip, the curved hilt fitting comfortably in his hand as he struck with quick, unpredictable movements. He used the blade's length to slash and parry, his posture low and fluid. He twisted and spun, deflecting Bane's powerful strikes with increasing precision. He had learned to rely on his instincts, trusting the Force to guide his every motion.
But Kael was still a learner, and Bane was far more experienced. The older Sith seemed to anticipate Kael's movements, his strikes landing hard and fast, pushing Kael back. He was out of his depth, but the fire inside him refused to burn out. He would not give up.
Kael's breath came in sharp gasps, his body aching with the intensity of the battle. His lightsaber hummed in his hands, a constant reminder of the power he had yet to fully grasp. But with every strike, Kael felt himself growing stronger, faster. He felt the Force surge through him, urging him to press on.
And then, Kael saw it—an opening. For just a split second, Bane lowered his guard, his focus wavering. Kael acted instantly. He summoned the Force to enhance his speed, pushing himself forward. With a single, fluid motion, he cut through Bane's defenses, severing both of his arms cleanly at the elbows.
The older Sith dropped to his knees, screaming in pain as his severed arms fell to the floor. But Kael did not hesitate. He reached out with the Force, pulling Bane's fallen lightsaber to his hand. In one smooth motion, Kael ignited the blade and now wielded two crimson sabers. The hum of both blades filled the air, and with a dark grin, Kael closed the gap between them.
With a surge of power, Kael brought both blades down in a final, decisive arc. The red blades sliced through Bane's neck, and in an instant, the Sith was decapitated. His head fell to the ground with a dull thud, his body crumpling lifelessly to the floor.
Kael stood over the fallen Sith, his breath ragged. His two lightsabers hummed in unison, their crimson blades glowing brightly in the dim chamber. The taste of victory was sweet, but there was no time to savor it. He had done what Vader asked of him, but the path ahead was still long.
Vader stepped forward, his shadow looming over Kael. "Well done, Kael," he said, his voice cold but approving. "But this is just the beginning. There is much more to learn."
Later that night, Kael sat alone in his quarters, his two lightsabers resting beside him on the bed. The weight of the day's events hung heavily in the air. He had fought—really fought—for the first time. He had felt the power surge through him, guiding his movements, pushing him to new heights. But the battle had also been a reminder of how far he still had to go.
He wasn't done yet. Not by a long shot.
Kael closed his eyes, letting the sound of his lightsabers' hum fill the room. He could still feel their energy, the power flowing through him. They were more than just weapons. They were symbols of his growth, of the path he had chosen. And as he reached out with his mind, feeling the Force stir within him, he knew that this was only the beginning.