An unseen gloss of infamy gleaming between only eyes of the ever-present dark, the everlasting pilaster of nothingness lifted to heights ventured solely by the regal guardians of heaven. A faint wisp of light drifted from the untainted cobalt above to the knarred soil below, drawing a slight glow onto the forbidden grounds of an insidious tantalum. Beneath it draped an abyss, darkness stinging its very essence as it fell to the depths of one’s spirit. Despair loomed in a funnel spiraling amongst its heart, and indulged in the fruits of all light managing to seep by. Encroached in a pitiless vigor of hunger.
Surrounding the fickle gateway, stretching as a path between both heaven and hell, there dropped honed blades of rock from the darkness above, slicing the thin air with an indefinite stature of majesty. Clinging to the might the rods so viciously emitted were quaint crystals of water, glistening in the light sifting ahead although subduing body to the bosom of animosity. All had formed equilibrium.
“Dark Lord of the Sith,” the auditory bulge repeated with an added element of malice to its tone, “Dark Lord of the Sith; Dark Lord of the Sith…hah…hah.”
A sardonic chuckle, nearly a screech, pounded the stiff columns of mineral with an implacable sense of relent as it purged various stockades of their rocky adherents. Detached of physical appearance it rambled onwards, shattering the mounds of lingering fortitude to previous egos having once been. Uplifted on the flames of its victims it raced forwards…backwards…upwards…downwards…always contorting to reach sought pinnacles. Bizarrely, a near-joy filled the lungs to which the replicating riddle spat, taunting jovially at what was and what would be. Despite the incentive or motive, it simply continued…
* * *
“Arrogant fool! The darkside had laid luscious gourds beneath his feet to soothe that pitiful thirst…once satisfied, more were taken to nurture an ego! Considering not his creator, excess was sought to amass personal glory in the attempts of overcoming the teachings by stepping upon their pages! Feeding from a father’s dream, a father’s shadow…and yet, the father had been as pious as he.”
Shimmering in black pungent enough to devour a very soul, a crimson sphere bobbed as a faceless slayer in the midst of its opposition, adapt to tearing a rift to its central point of luminescence. Although as silence echoed behind, a definite figure was impossible to determine or forge. And as almost to exhale, a voice overturned such bonds.
“Hah, yes…may the dark’s judgment reign dauntless.”