There are few stories that are told among the Jedi Order long enough to become myth. Legend. It takes importance to stand the test of time that way. A lesson has to be learned.
Anakin and Circe's story is told for generations long after they are go...
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Anakin is frozen in the middle of the prayer chamber, his hands trembling by his sides and his eyes unmoving. The urge to throw up faded long ago. He is numb now, void of thought, empty of feeling anything anymore.
"You look like you've seen a ghost," Palpatine says, wearing none of the blood that is smeared down Anakin's robes. His hands, clothes, and face are completely clean. "Don't tell me you're getting cold feet, my boy."
"What did you make me do," He whispers, his voice just a ghost of a breath.
"This is the beginning. This is the start of everything we could ever want." Palpatine answers. "This was the hard part, Anakin. But you have proven your loyalty to me, and I promise you it was not for nothing."
The blood on his hands is beginning to dry. It crusts under his nails. He can feel it hardening.
"You know, you're very easy to sway. I mean no disrespect, but you made my job very easy. Here we are, ahead of schedule, standing on the dawn of our new future."
"What did you make me do."
Palpatine ignores him. "I thought it would take much longer to move you but you practically begged me for my help. At first I thought it charming, your eagerness, but now I see it for what it is. Desperation."
Anakin's voice is dry. "Master—"
"Quiet." His voice is much harsher than Anakin has ever heard him. There is brutality behind the word, the threat of violence if he doesn't listen.
Palpatine gives him a long, cold look. "I don't want to hear it. We have too much work ahead of us and I have let you stray out of line for far too long. It's time you learned how to take your place by my side, the way so many before you have."
"I never wanted this," He objects, "I never wanted... I only asked you to keep her safe. I— what did you make me do!?"
Impatience flares through Palpatine, his fists clenching silently by his sides. "I made you into a warrior. I made you into what the Jedi have been keeping in the dark. I've shown you who you can be without their control."
Anakin shakes his head. "You made me kill them. I didn't want to kill anyone! You've turned me into a monster!"
"Yes, boy, that's what I do," He snarls. "Apologies if this wasn't what you expected, but power takes vigor, and dedication, and strength. Don't tell me I've wasted time on weakness."
"Killing is not strength—"
The back of Palpatine's hand collides with Anakin's cheek so hard it sends stars behind his eyes. He gasps, pressing his hand to his stinging face, but Palpatine grabs his collar forcefully.
"Killing is as strong as it gets, Anakin. Holding someone's life in your hands takes resilience. Feel the life on you, the blood that covers your skin and your clothes. Feel the weight of it and tell me there is no strength in what you stole."
