Keitus had taken to a new type of meditation as of late. He had set up a pull-up bar next to his tent. The three pieces of hardened steel had been found in a pile of wreckage nearby the encampment. He'd welded them together with his lightsaber and found himself satisfied with his exercise implement. He had slung his legs over the bar, binding them on the other side with a simple cloth sash, and had removed his shirt. He was bare chested as he proceeded do crunches. The pain of the experience fueling him. He'd learned, through the process, that even the smallest amounts of pain, even the pain of exertion, could be harnessed and converted into power.
"Six hundred forty four..."
He hissed, rising again into a vertical position. The pain was palpable in his core, but it nourished him, even healed him at times. He couldn't explain how it happened, only that it did. He closed his eyelids and even shut off his force sight, focusing only on the force as he lowered himself back down. Sweat dribbled down from his upper lip, tracing its way down his nose and to his forehead. He concentrated, dismissing the sensation. He could hear it now and then, a whisper, something that he'd never heard before. Yet here, in his darkness, when he shut out even the light of his endless gaze, he could hear it, quiet, cold.
He rose again, pulling himself up and allowing his eyes to open. His instincts warned him against remaining in the darkness for too long. The fear was not an irrational one though, something felt... wrong... about that darkness, something didn't bode well, something he didn't like. He gazed forward for a moment as his core muscles tightened and relaxed, the pain seething through him. "Six hundred forty five..."
He murmured, what was it? What was it about the darkness that pushed him so hurriedly away. He reflected on what he had learned at the feet of Zaar, harness all of it, pain, anger, fury, lust, terror, everything, even the emotions of your enemies can be used as fuel.
Zaar, Zaar taught him what he had to learn, Zaar had imparted on him knowledge that Phyr had denied him for so long. He looked up to Phyr as much as he despised him, yet Phyr had not the slightest desire to teach Keitus the Dark Arts. Keitus had renamed himself at the feet of Phyr, he'd thrown away everything, given everything to break the chains of his past and walk the path of a Sith. This was his destiny. Every night as he dreamed of his mother, the white skinned Jedi who had come to take him away on Bastion so many years ago, it simply drove him to improve himself more.
He let himself fall back, closing his eyes, shutting out the light and reaching out into the darkness. This time, there was another presence there. It had been there before, but this time it was far clearer, and closer. He reached out to it, and it reached back, searching for him, a presence he hadn't felt since.... Phyr. Phyr was swimming through this dark Miasma as well. He too sought something in the darkness, this rejuvenating veil of madness that Keitus had discovered on his own only recently. Yet, just as he felt Phyr, Phyr vanished, pulling out of the Darkness. Keitus did the same, pulling himself up on the bar again. "Six hundred forty six..."
he muttered, he was starting to sweat harder now, despite how fresh his body felt.
Just as he reached the top he felt his master's presence, Phyr was searching for him, reaching out to him. He intended to meet. Keitus lowered himself again, leaving his eyes open this time as he viewed the encampment. He saw him in the distance, striding through the camp, he looked more like a Messiah than a Dark Lord. Yet that was what Keitus admired about him, many of the sith revered Phyr more than craved his power. Keitus didn't know if that was good or bad for the sith, the lust for self improvement should be all encompassing, should it not? He felt his master draw close as he moved to pull himself back up. "Six hundred forty seven..."
he hissed as the Dark Lord drew within earshot.
Keitus glanced at the binds on his ankle, he tugged at them with the force, a single tug that felled the knot. He leaped backwards, landing on his feet, turning and dropping to a knee. His white hair falling down over his face. Despite the sweat and wear he had endured exercising, he felt like he had been sleeping. It was exhilarating to feel this way. The Dark Side offered so many gifts. "You honor me with your presence, My Dark Lord."
Keitus said quietly, his eyes rising to meet Phyr's. </div>
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