The Dark Side

~8~

Months had passed. 

Neri'el threw herself into her training. Soon no other padawan could match her skills with a lightsaber. Her strength in the Force stayed average and no matter how hard she trained it did not grow stronger. Master Luke noticed her obvious frustration and often tried to reach out to her but she pushed him away. Luke even enlisted Ben's help to try to bring Neri'el free from her sorrow but not even her best friend could do anything.

"Neri'el!"

Neri'el let out a long angry sigh. Her hair was sticking to the back of her neck from the arduous training she had been working at for the past four hours. Her arms were pulsing with pain along with the rest of her body and she just wanted peace and quiet before she would have to go train younglings.

"Yes, Ben?" She asked through gritted teeth.

Ben walked in front of her determined to make eye contact. He attempted to smile but failed dismally. A grimace covered his features as he stared down at his former friend.

"Could you please talk to me?" he questioned in a tired voice, "I've tried everything. Waiting for you after training, partnering with you on missions even breaking into your room! But you always evade me, Neri'el! Why?"

Neri'el's eyes narrowed.

"So you're the creep who crawled in through the vents while I was on Hoth, huh?" She muttered trying to push past him.

Ben grabbed her arm; holding her in place.

"Neri'el," He said in a low voice, "Don't change the subject."

She huffed and pushed a lock of hair off of her damp forehead.

"FINE."

Ben let her go and she stepped out of reach whilst crossing her arms over her robes.

"I've been avoiding you because I didn't want this," she said angrily gesturing between them.

Ben's eyebrows creased in confusion.

"Didn't want what?"

"THIS! A confrontation!" she cried glaring up at him, "Ben, I don't want your help!"

Ben stepped back hurt filling his brown eyes.

"Neri'el, you're in pain. If you need to talk-"

"I don't want to talk about it!" She bellowed.

Ben's eyes went from hurt to empty. He nodded swiftly and turned on his heel departing from the corridor immediately.

Name blinked, a guilty feeling rising within her when the bell rang summoning her to her next lesson.

"Blast," she mumbled; all thoughts of Ben vanishing from her mind as she raced to the courtyard where her students were waiting.

Two years past by and Neri'el's grief began to subside. She no longer threw herself into training but she was wasn't the same as before. Her cheery nature disappeared. She could maintain a façade of happiness for a bit but only for her padawans.

She had attempted to reach out to Ben to apologize but he had drawn away from her. In fact he distanced himself from everyone. Neri'el could sense something in him now.

Coldness.

She had often tried to talk to him but he merely stood in silence or worse ignored her obvious attempts to talk to him and walked away. So she had given up. She had let him be. Felt him lock himself away. She even sensed the mental connection between them sever.

One night, she was lying on her bed studying her lightsaber. The handle glittered in the darkness of the room. A rumble of thunder echoed through the temple but it did not startle the young woman. She continued observing her lightsaber, her fingers tracing over the silver lines inlaid into the dark handle. She gently ran her fingertips across the silver activation button as another loud clap of thunder spilt the silence. This saber had been one of her first challenges as a youngling. She had labored for hours, even days, trying to smash the pieces of metal together. It was only when her father came alongside her and taught her serenity that she had been able to construct the device.