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hate is such an ancient game

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Kiodan awoke to a near-blinding Light presence. At first, she was exceedingly confused, and then she remembered. Her organic body had died... over three thousand years ago, according to the holocron's chrono. She was not simply a recording, however; an entire part of her consciousness had been carefully inserted into the holocron. The Sith felt the holocron crease open, as she was curious to see this presence, and flickered into being, like a hologram, over the pyramid.

The opener of the holocron... was not entirely who Kiodan was expecting. The boy, perhaps sixteen or so, looked at her with startled blue eyes. "Hello," she greeted. "I am Sith Lord Kiodan and the maker of this holocron. Who are you?" The Padawan(ah yes it was more obvious, now. He was a Jedi - at least somewhat) simply looked at her, and she could feel his shock and slight fear in the Force. Good to know she could still feel the Force. It was unlikely she could interact with it, sadly.

"I'm," he paused, hesitance clinging to the air around him. "I'm Ezra Bridger. Why are you in the holocron?" The boy looked at her, shaggy dark blue hair shadowing his eyes. Kiodan folded her hands behind her back and smiled. At least he was curious; that was always a plus.

"Sith do not truly believe in becoming one with the Force, as the Jedi do," she replied. "Most create holocrons or tombs and attach their consciousnesses to them," the Sith gestured down below. "As you can see, I chose a holocron. Easier to manage, maneuverable, but easy to destroy," Kiodan paused, watching his face. "I can also allow who opens the holocron and can sense the Force. I do not believe I can do anything with it, however,"

Ezra's face hardened for a moment, and the Sith felt the thrilling sensation of Dark flitting over that bright presence, if just for a moment. He could be as powerful as her one day, Jedi or no. "Can you teach me?" He asked. "I was told that holocrons... have virtually infinite knowledge, and I... I need to be stronger,"

She felt a smile grow across her face. "There is no shame in wanting to be stronger," she told him. "But know this; knowledge is power, and power corrupts,"

"Then we start out slow," he replied. "Nothing too crazy," Kiodan smirked and let out a small laugh.

"As long as you tell me the most recent history, we have a deal, Ezra Bridger," the Sith responded and flickered out of being as she returned to the holocron. He prodded the holocron using the Force, which was a strange sensation, and sort of... entered. Almost like looking into the holocron. Kiodan pulled the Padawan to the Sith basics; lightsaber forms and Force manipulation. He, of course, knew much of it, but not all. With gentle nudging, Ezra was in the right direction.

He almost reminds me of Jaesa, Kiodan thought wistfully as she did the equivalent of leaning back in a chair. The almost vibrating Light around him... the brief moments of Dark. A part of the Sith missed her apprentice and wondered what the former Padawan did in Kiodan's final moments. Now is not the time, she scolded herself. You may reminice later.

No more than two months into Ezra and Kiodan's partnership, Kiodan realized that there was another bright presence of a Jedi. There were no others; though from what she had been told, there had been a second Jedi Purge, which left her mildly angry. They had not deserved it, either time. She had been a mere eight years old during the Sacking of Coruscant; a bright, strong Sith Acolyte barely old enough to wield a training blade. Kiodan swiftly pulled herself from her memories as she passively watched from the holocron; time had little meaning there.

The Jedi she was feeling was most likely the boy's Jedi Master; or the equivalent of it, at least. She had never seen nor felt the boy and the other Jedi interact, so she assumed something occurred to leave them not speaking. That was bad. One always needed communication between oneself and their Master, teacher, or student. Kiodan's holocron was carefully hidden under one of Ezra's helmets, just open enough to see, but she could easily watch him cutting his own hair until it was little more than fine midnight blue stubble.

The Sith poked at the fledgling bond(which probably would not grow much if they did not interact with it) between him and the holocron, sending curiosity and amusement through it. She saw him jump, startled and bit back a snort of laughter. Kiodan watched him pick up the helmet and move the holocron. She flickered out, watching him.

"It's a Lothalite rite of passage," Ezra said, almost embarrassed. "A child who's passed a certain milestone in their life cuts off their own hair and lets it regrow," the boy paused. "It's kind of like a rebirth thing," he continued, cheeks pinking slightly.

"Ah," she murmured. "I see," The Pureblood Sith glanced up at him. "Also, you should probably talk to the other Jedi I can sense because a lack of communication between a master and apprentice is a terrible idea," Kiodan commented, enjoying the way he sputtered and let out a quiet shout. She quickly receded back into the holocron, radiating smugness.