FORSAKEN - Target: Zero

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

Trying to stimulate the dark side as he did when he uses Vaapad, Syrran hoped he could find a balance between both sides of the Force within him. He rationalized it had to be the key to enter the Bendu door. But the Jedi's practice of Form VII depended on their opponent's anger, not one's own. Still, Syrran had plenty of brushes with the dark side of his own. His passion to rectify his errors had given him the strength to fight and survive. Yet, the light side of the Force always grounded him. Something that might be preventing him from gaining access to the Bendu door. Then, the thought hit him, what if his failure lay on his practice of the light side and not the dark?

Syrran recited the Jedi Code in his mind, "When there's no emotion, there is peace." His feelings made him restless. "When there is no ignorance, there is knowledge." His awareness made him disregard many of the lessons the Jedi Order taught him. "When there is no passion, there is serenity." His impulses robbed him of concord. "When there is no chaos, there is harmony." He lived in bedlam. "When there is no death, there is the Force." Yet, his role as a had Jedi predicated on killing and little else.

The sound of a heavy slab moving made Syrran open his eyes. To his disappointment, the Bendu Door remained closed. The Bogan one, though, was wide open and an inscrutable darkness waited inside. Finding himself alone in the Mortis Chamber, Syrran entered.

He wandered in the darkness until he saw a light in the distance. As Syrran approached, his steps became heavier. The glum acquired a thickness, making it hard to move and distinguish the beacon. When a few meters separated it from the light, Syrran realized he found himself in his vision. The black presence made itself known. Syrran reacted fast. His purple lightsabers flashed in a defensive posture.

My actions might be the wrong ones, he recalled his conversation with Master Rancisis. Rather than attacking, he waited for the presence to strike. When it did, Syrran discovered his efforts to destroy it produced the same results as before. The entity's power and its size, increased with every strike, until it rendered everything in its shadow.

Disoriented, Syrran gathered his wits while taking a knee. Scanning his surroundings, he saw the distant light once again. He took a deep breath and headed in its direction, considering what could be his mistake. On the next bout, Syrran used the Force, instead of his weapon, to face the entity. The fight ended so fast, Syrran failed to sort out how he had had returned to the beginning.

Okay, that was a complete failure, he thought.

The next time, Syrran produced his purple lightsabers, and used a combination of combat prowess and Force powers to face the entity, to experience another defeat.

How do I fight this thing? Syrran headed back to the light. That's it, don't fight.

Syrran returned to the beginning.

Dank farrik! he cursed in his head. There's no beating that thing. If it wants to get to the light, it will. The light—maybe I can't fight the darkness, but I can protect the light. The simplicity of the idea made him doubt it, but he had nothing to lose.

When the presence arrived, Syrran turned away from it to run toward the light, hoping he could reach it before the shadow swallowed him. But the moment he did this, Syrran found himself hunkering inside light. Time and again, the presence tried to break in, but to no avail. Resigned to engulf it, the light burned brighter, and the shadow dissolved with a pained growl stretching into eternity.

Standing, Syrran looked around the cold circular hall where he stood. Carved columns, obelisks, small pyramids, and two hooded statues holding swords glowed pale blue. A curtain of icicles dripped from the high ceiling down to the stone floor.