Becoming Broken
Challenge #28 Entry
(A.N.: I've been trying on and off to write a piece from Sion's P.O.V since the game first came out. His mode of speech is the complete opposite of how I like to write, so it's nice and challenging for me.)
Love is not something easily cast aside. I know this as I know her. She knows what it is to be broken: To watch yourself become a shell. And yet, love still follows in her wake like a plague. Her crew follow her blindly. I have seen the way they look upon her. Some look upon her with lust, some with adoration. None look upon her with apathy. But they do not see her for what she really is.
And they do not know her as I know her.
Another lifetime ago, before I was born in pain and fire, there was a boy. That boy was not Darth Sion, not the Lord of Pain. He was a Jedi. And he was a fool.
He knew her then, before she knew herself. He watched her in her rooms as a child, over balconies, through gaps in doors. Sarin was nothing special. There was nothing to draw him to her. And yet her presence crawled beneath his skin. He never could explain why.
He watched her grow and become a woman. When the wars came, her home world was among those raided. And he saw the fire that was born in her, as the republic burned.
And he saw her frustration with the Jedi's inertia. Her fire crawled inside his head until it burned within him. And when she banded with those whose desire matched hers, he followed in her wake: Always in her shadow, always watching her.
It was said that those Jedi who fought in the war followed Revan into battle. But in his case, Sarin was the cause. He could no more stay behind than he could forget her. Through her he tasted battle, immersed himself in the glory she felt.
On the jungle moon, he found a word the fascination she had long held for him. It was born in their sweetness of victory and the glow of the battle lust they had shared. The Dxun moon burned when he dared to name it love.
And that was his greatest error. He had immersed himself in her. He knew her better than she knew herself. And he assumed that she knew all that he felt. He thought that he crawled beneath her skin, that he consumed her heart as she had consumed his.
He saw them together: A mass of tangled limbs, swollen flesh and splintered breath. He saw the blue tattoos that streaked from her lover's scalp to the small of his back. How they flashed and flexed with every exertion Malak made. He tried to block out their murmurs of pleasure, but they crawled beneath his skull like all else.
His world was shattered in that moment, and he saw how mistaken he had been. He knew that his overwhelming love had been one-sided: Sarin had never known him, never spoken to him, never noticed his adoration. He wondered if he had been the only one that had been drawn to her, that felt her emotions as keenly as their own. And what had made Malak special in her eyes? Why was he allowed to touch her?
However, he felt no sympathy for others that might have been entranced by her. He felt nothing but jealousy, betrayal and loss. And slowly, he let darkness seep into his heart and still she crawled within him, like a pestilence. He fled the battlefield, a deserter. No longer a Jedi, but not yet a Sith.
I was born in flames, a fierce heat that melted flesh and bone alike. Shot down by Republic forces for stealing a ship, I crashed into the Dxun jungle. My body ravaged by pain, my heart gorged with undying hatred. The fire took my arm, my eye, and what was left of the foolish boy I used to be.
I crawled from the wreckage of the ship. Blinded by smoke, I knew nothing except my pain. I could not feel the force, could not use it to heal my body. The jungle was quiet; I could hear nothing but my own breathing.
I thought I was alone, but I heard a voice in my head. I hated it, hated it as I hated Sarin. But it had the same effect on me as her presence had done, as though my obsession with Sarin had been preparing me for this moment.
I do not remember what was said, I think my Master later buried the memory. But I remember seeing her approaching with my remaining eye. I looked into her empty eyes and saw nothing. That was what she promised me and the reason I became her disciple. She taught me the infinite power of pain. She inflicted countless tortures upon me and I grew strong, even as my body crumbled. I learned to grasp my power, to shape my fury, and to bring it to bear upon all that lay before me.
And that is why I know the Exile: She made me, and yet she never knew. When she comes, she will look upon my ruined body without recognition. She will feel no remorse for what I have become. She knows me only as the Lord of Pain, the one who cast down her teacher.
And I will kill her. Not for revenge and not for mercy. The boy that once foolishly loved her no longer lives. I do not think Sarin has the power to kill me, even though her fire still burns in me. I will destroy her rather than see her play into my Master's hands.
But within me, there is still a foolish hope: That as she dies she will finally understand me. She will see what she unintentionally wrought. She will look upon me with sorrow, with regret.
And she will know me as I know her.
Twisted, perverted, I appreciate this look into Sion. Several things here, the flip from he to I to show the complete and total disassociation, the hum of the repetition that gives it the mood and feel of a creation myth are both nice touches.
I think I'm getting sick of seeing it as sex or love with someone else to ruin the fantasy, but the creepy voyeurism makes up for it completely. On a technical note, it feels like something is slightly off on the "he" part. Either the pacing needs to be more rhythmic to enhance the vibe of an oral tradition creation myth or cut back a tad on the repetitive phrases, because it gets to be a bit too much. But by the time you hit the "I" part, you are smoking.
you really did capture sion's pain well and i like how it was somehow a one-sided love 8)
Ouch! Poor Sion. I really liked the subtle parallels with early Sion and Disciple. I really like Sion's deep immersion in his own fantasy, and his own opinion that he was the center of the universe. It's so shattering when illusions like that are disrupted, and the perfect place for a Sith master to slither in and corrupt. Nice to tie it in with the Exile and Malak for some future plotting, but it might have worked even better (translate: hurt even worse) with some nameless schmoe.
I'd separate the flashback/boy part and the "present" with either italics or a scene break so as not to jar the reader--it's very easy to get caught up with the flow of action and emotion and you don't want to break that with a pronoun alteration without warning. Nitpicky thing, I know.
Hmm. A Sion point of view. Very well done. It seems as though the Lord of Pain was not all that painless after all. And you brought that to the light. As most are doing stories on more acknowledged characters, you are going out on a limb and adding depth to those we've overlooked. Well done. I feel for Sion now. I don't think I'd be able to stand killing him in the game after this. ^-^
I really dug this piece. It was dark, sad, creepy, and really rounded out Sion's character and his weird obsession with the Exile. In spite of your A/N, I think it was actually the rhythm of this piece that made it so wonderful. No problems following the he/I transition at all, and I think it was fine the way you did it. The narrative parallels between the Exile getting under the pre-Sion's skin and the later destruction of his body were well-done and added to the weight of the piece. Great ending line, too.
I'm not sure that his motivation to kill the Exile really comes across--does he love her and want to free her from Kreia's power, or is he angry for her disinterest and want to make her feel pain? It might be both, but that doesn't quite come through in the piece.
Excellent, haunting piece. Nice work.
Nice to see a bit of backstory to the most pointless star wars villian yet. Thumbs up!
Man, Sion POV would be really hard, and you put up a really good showing here. Definitely creepy and very in character. I like the idea that he was really pretty twisted in his conceptions even before Kreia got a hold of him.
Some really beautiful, haunting descrption. I especially love the description of her crawling in his head "like a pestilence." In fact, I think the parts where I stumble slightly occur when you break out of that descriptive mold and actually name it as betrayal or jealousy or loss. But those were minor stumbles. The he/I is a little jarring, but I like the idea of it--the disassociation with his past self that it implies.
Well done!
everytime Sion pop in the story , i just love it! This is very good, well done!
Great Story. I really like how secretive and creepy you made Sion even before he became a Sith Lord.
I like the idea of a Sion perspective for a love story as I've been curious as to what his relationship with the Exile is. However, I felt that this story was a little bit lacking. While I felt that you captured Sion's voice with near perfection (bits such as He thought that he crawled beneath her skin, that he consumed her heart as she had consumed his are a good example of your talent here) I thought the pacing, motivations, and overall the plotting was rushed.
You tell us that there was nothing to draw Sion to her, yet there must have been something, even if it was something that Sion wasn't aware of. People don't become infatuated for no reason at all. It would have helped if we'd known what Sion found in her that was so magnetic, or at least had a hint of it. Was it her natural bonding with others through the Force? Had she shown some kindness to Sion that inspired trust? It was difficult to sympathize with a character whose motivations we didn't understand.
Furthermore, I felt that Sion's transformation from the young, jealous Jedi to the Dark Lord was too sudden. My feeling has always been that a fall is a slow, painful proccess and the fact that immediately after he discovers the object of his affection in bed with Malak he leaves the army, is shot down, and transformed into the Dark Lord seemed hasty. Furthermore, it doesn't explain how he maintained his body. It is implied that the crash of his ship resulted in his body becoming the scarred lump of flesh it was in TSL. Yet in the game we are told that if it were not for his power he would have fallen apart. For this reason, I've always assumed that the breaking of his body was, in part, intentional, as he channeled his pain into power.
And just a minor nitpick. If you were going to introduce Malak into the story it would have been nice to have him at least mentioned beforehand. After all, it's clear from the narrative that Sion recognized the future Dark Lord as he mentions him by name. If you'd wanted to introduce Malak it would have been nice to have either hinted at his identity (by describing him but naming him) or to foreshadow Malak and the Exile's relationship in some way (perhaps he tried to find a moment to speak with her but found it difficult because she was always meeting with Malak to "discuss tactics").
On the whole though, I think your story captured Sion's personality and voice but fails on the whole to deliver a self-contained, satisfactory narrative. I think perhaps in the future you should go back and revise this or write a different story about Sion's relationship with the Exile as it certainly deserves the time and effort, particularly if it is as well written as this one was.
I have to admit I didn't get the whole Sion/Exile thing when I played the game. Your haunting piece managed to make it all clear to me, which is impressive considering how short the story is.
You had some especially strong imagery here: love following in her wake like a plague and her essence crawling in him like a pestilence. It was as if the Exile was a disease invading his mind and body.