To Touch The Intangible (Force Training)

[Yarkar Edetar]

Yarkar snarls, then gags and coughs up bloody phlegm. His body quivers and shakes, his diaphragm twitching, his back muscles rippling with pain. Whispers of darkness in that blade tainted his mind, but little did it know that Yarkar was corrupted from a different source. He felt his loyalty stiffen in his heart. It was hard to defy the man before him. A man with a blade that sang in the Force stronger than he'd ever remembered it doing. Yet, he was not about to give in so soon. The Dark had tried to kill him one too many times for him to let his guard down so easy.

No, instead he summoned up his rage, as those words rung through his ears. That he survived. That he was worthy now. He remembered it again. The thought of Tormentous calling him worthy was enough to make Yarkar suspicious. He remembered the Jedi who nearly struck him down, too weak to bring an end to a child, but just enough to leave him battered and bleeding. Yes. That was the Jedi way, to abandon. He almost had the sense that whatever stood before him didn't even remember him, that he was just ad-libbing from echoes in Yarkar's words. That was.... unless Tormentous had known that Jedi would be there? Was he sent on a suicide mission?

This anger, this questioning, it swelled in Yarkar's heart and he let it flow through his body, let the pain be wrapped in his anger and pride (Control Pain). His heart, his soul, swelled in his chest. As detrimental as it may be to ignore, he couldn't be in pain for this fight. He couldn't have limits. He was Yarkar Edetar, and he was not about to be so easily bested.

"My decision was made years ago, Master. You should remember it well. I will stand by your side, should you have it. Yet I will not go idly there. No. You wouldn't accept that. I wouldn't accept that. Specter here to bring Death through the Dark that chases me, or man here to claim what he had tossed aside, I will earn your respect. There never was a choice, Master. I never had one. I never needed one. I have one goal. One path. One future. There never was an option, and there never will be an option. No matter how much power I wield. No matter who stands in my way. There is only one way. Forwards. Even if it's through you."

Yarkar ignites his saber, the crimson hue filling the area around him, a lighter shade of red glistening off the blood already spilled. He feels Tormentous bring the Force around himself, the sinking barrier in the Force. Yarkar does similarly (Force Shield), and smiles. It shows that Tormentous feared something from him. He likely saw the display with the rocks if he was going to so quickly defend himself against telekinetic strikes. Yarkar was willing to take advantage of that, feeling the Force bubble through his skin, coating his body in the erratic patterns of chaotic interference. He raises his blade, but not into his standard form. No, he wouldn't want to give away too much yet. He puts his blade into the Form I stance that Tormentous had taught him so long ago. He wanted to seem naive, to seem like he had practiced nothing but what Tormentous had taught him.

Yes, this was going to be fun. Yarkar sprints forwards, feinting a thrust but falling short, using his momentum to kick up dirt and rocks. He wanted to see just how far Tormentous was going to take this. Did he expect Yarkar to go for the kill?