High Commander of the Lilaste Order
Laphisto walked across the scarred surface of Ossus, his boots crunching against the dry, cracked earth beneath him. The once-lush jungle planet was now nothing more than an arid wasteland. A deep frown etched across his face. This was where it all began—where he had been born, where he had been raised and trained as a Jedi Knight. His mind drifted to the devastation that had befallen the planet, the result of Sith Lord Exar Kun's greed. But long before those events, long before the Cron Supernova had scorched the surface, Ossus had been his home.
His broad saber hung at his side, a subtle comfort in the emptiness, though no weapon could guard him against the flood of emotions welling up within. He paused at the edge of a ravine, its jagged, lifeless contours so different from the flowing rivers that had once carved through this land. His gaze swept across the horizon, now a barren canvas of dust and broken stone where mighty jungles had once flourished. The Force stirred, faint whispers of the past flickering at the edges of his mind. His teal-blue eyes scanned the horizon, searching for the place he had once called home: the old Jedi enclave.
With a deep sigh, he continued forward, following a path only he could feel. The Force guided him toward the ruins of a once-grand structure, half-buried beneath the rubble of time. How many years had it been? His thoughts drifted to the days before the fall, before the Sith brought war to this sacred world. He had walked these same paths when the enclave was alive with the sounds of students training, the laughter of younglings echoing through the trees, the distant hum of lightsabers clashing in practice. Now, only the wind responded.
His footsteps echoed through the shattered corridors, and as he walked, the Force stirred faintly, broken and fragmented, as if the world itself mourned alongside him. He could feel the remnants of the lives that had once thrived here, their vibrant energy snuffed out by the Cron Supernova. Yet, even the devastation caused by that explosion paled in comparison to the destruction he had caused so long ago.
He stopped in front of the ruins of the meditation chambers, his eyes falling on the stones where he had once sat with his fellow Jedi. His heart clenched. How many of them fell because of me? how many lives where extinguished because of what i did here. He had whispered to them about the power of the dark side, about what he believed was true balance. The Jedi Order was in disarray, he had told them, because they overwhelmed the Force with too much light, while ignoring the dark. The dark side, after all, was not inherently evil—just another facet of the Force. The Force itself was neither good nor evil. It simply was.
How many times did they speak of balance in the Force? The words echoed in his mind. How many times did I hear them speak of it, whisper about it, preach it in these halls? And when he had shown them a way, a solution, when he presented them with what he believed to be the balance they sought, they cast him out. Locked him in chains, used him as a weapon to hunt and kill those he had turned—his friends, his colleagues.
I showed them balance, he thought bitterly, his anger rising as sorrow pressed in. I showed them what they couldn't see—that the dark side wasn't something to be purged but embraced as part of the whole. But they turned on me. They called it corruption.
The wind picked up, swirling through the ruins as if echoing the storm inside him. I thought I was helping them, he reflected, he winced firmly as his lone ear pinned down on his head, hands tightening into balled fists as pain cut through his thoughts. I thought they'd see it, that coexistence between light and dark was possible. But they only saw danger. They never listened.
In their fear, the Council had chained him, imprisoned him, and twisted his ideals. They had used him as a weapon against those he had turned, forcing him to destroy everything he had tried to build. The dream of balance had crumbled, and with it, everything he had once held dear. He looked around the shattered ruins, his heart weighed down by what had been lost. I betrayed myself. He hadn't seen the danger of his words, his ideas, until it was too late. I never wanted them to fall not like they did, his thoughts whispered, the weight of guilt pressing harder. I wanted balance, not chaos. Peace, not war.
But the seeds of his whisoers had taken root in ways he hadn't foreseen. The Jedi who he had whispered the temptations of the dark side to had taken things to far they went further into the dark side than he expected, consumed by the very power they thought they could master. The schism had torn the Order apart, and from it, the Sith had been born. The Sith exist because of me, he admitted, a cold truth settling in his bones.
His shoulders sagged as the full weight of that realization pressed down on him a hand graspign at the bridge of his nose as the teal color faded from his eyes. I caused this. My dream... turned into their nightmare. The wind howled through the ruins, yet nothing compared to the chill in his heart. His vision of balance, of peace, had twisted into something dark, something that had haunted the galaxy for millennia. His fingers brushed the cold, cracked surface of the meditation stone, and for a moment, he could almost feel the warmth of the past, the energy of the Force still lingering here. He had sat here with hope in his heart, believing he could change the Order, that he could lead them to a deeper understanding of the Force. But the schism had torn through everything, turning his dream of balance into the nightmare of the Sith.
The wind picked up again, carrying with it the faintest sounds of the past—the distant hum of lightsabers, the murmurs of Jedi discussing the mysteries of the Force. Laphisto closed his eyes, letting the memories wash over him, allowing himself to relive those moments when the dream was still alive. But the warmth was fleeting, replaced by the cold reality of the present.
They didn't understand. he thought bitterly. They never saw what I was trying to show them. He had tried to bring them balance, to lead them to coexistence between the light and dark sides of the Force. He hadn't wanted war—he had wanted peace. But his vision had been twisted, misunderstood. And now, the galaxy had been plunged into chaos because of it.
I created the Sith. he admitted to himself again, the weight of that truth settling on his shoulders. I set it all in motion. his eyes looked over the meditation chamber somberly. if the sith didnt exist then ossus wouldnt have been destroyed. the jedi order wouldnt have been purged all those years ago and he wouldnt have been forgotten to time. he never would have been locked up to begin with, the galaxy would be at peace not at war.
But in the stillness of the meditation chamber, as the wind howled around him and the broken stones lay silent, something stirred within him. The Lilaste Order. That was his path forward, his way to fix the damage he had caused. The Lilaste Order was more than just an idea—it was his proof that balance could be achieved. Light and dark working together, in harmony, not in opposition. It was everything he had once believed in, everything he had fought for.
This time, I will make it right, he resolved, his mind sharpening with renewed purpose. The Lilaste Order will be the proof. I will show my old masters, and the galaxy, that balance can be achieved.
The thought gave him a strange sense of peace, standing there among the ruins of what had once been his sanctuary. He had made mistakes, terrible ones, but the dream of balance was still alive. The Lilaste Order was his way to show the galaxy that light and dark could coexist, that the Force didn't have to be a battleground.
I may have caused the chaos, but I will restore the balance.
Laphisto's hand tightened on the hilt of his saber, his eyes narrowing as he looked out over the ruined meditation chamber. He wasn't finished yet. He couldn't undo the past, but he could still forge a future. One where his vision of balance became a reality.
He knelt on the cold stone floor, his breath steady as he let the Force flow through him. The broken world around him seemed to fade away as he centered himself, the weight of his past and the promise of the future merging into one.
I will prove it to them, he thought, his eyes closed in deep meditation. I will show them all.
Braze
His broad saber hung at his side, a subtle comfort in the emptiness, though no weapon could guard him against the flood of emotions welling up within. He paused at the edge of a ravine, its jagged, lifeless contours so different from the flowing rivers that had once carved through this land. His gaze swept across the horizon, now a barren canvas of dust and broken stone where mighty jungles had once flourished. The Force stirred, faint whispers of the past flickering at the edges of his mind. His teal-blue eyes scanned the horizon, searching for the place he had once called home: the old Jedi enclave.
With a deep sigh, he continued forward, following a path only he could feel. The Force guided him toward the ruins of a once-grand structure, half-buried beneath the rubble of time. How many years had it been? His thoughts drifted to the days before the fall, before the Sith brought war to this sacred world. He had walked these same paths when the enclave was alive with the sounds of students training, the laughter of younglings echoing through the trees, the distant hum of lightsabers clashing in practice. Now, only the wind responded.
His footsteps echoed through the shattered corridors, and as he walked, the Force stirred faintly, broken and fragmented, as if the world itself mourned alongside him. He could feel the remnants of the lives that had once thrived here, their vibrant energy snuffed out by the Cron Supernova. Yet, even the devastation caused by that explosion paled in comparison to the destruction he had caused so long ago.
He stopped in front of the ruins of the meditation chambers, his eyes falling on the stones where he had once sat with his fellow Jedi. His heart clenched. How many of them fell because of me? how many lives where extinguished because of what i did here. He had whispered to them about the power of the dark side, about what he believed was true balance. The Jedi Order was in disarray, he had told them, because they overwhelmed the Force with too much light, while ignoring the dark. The dark side, after all, was not inherently evil—just another facet of the Force. The Force itself was neither good nor evil. It simply was.
How many times did they speak of balance in the Force? The words echoed in his mind. How many times did I hear them speak of it, whisper about it, preach it in these halls? And when he had shown them a way, a solution, when he presented them with what he believed to be the balance they sought, they cast him out. Locked him in chains, used him as a weapon to hunt and kill those he had turned—his friends, his colleagues.
I showed them balance, he thought bitterly, his anger rising as sorrow pressed in. I showed them what they couldn't see—that the dark side wasn't something to be purged but embraced as part of the whole. But they turned on me. They called it corruption.
The wind picked up, swirling through the ruins as if echoing the storm inside him. I thought I was helping them, he reflected, he winced firmly as his lone ear pinned down on his head, hands tightening into balled fists as pain cut through his thoughts. I thought they'd see it, that coexistence between light and dark was possible. But they only saw danger. They never listened.
In their fear, the Council had chained him, imprisoned him, and twisted his ideals. They had used him as a weapon against those he had turned, forcing him to destroy everything he had tried to build. The dream of balance had crumbled, and with it, everything he had once held dear. He looked around the shattered ruins, his heart weighed down by what had been lost. I betrayed myself. He hadn't seen the danger of his words, his ideas, until it was too late. I never wanted them to fall not like they did, his thoughts whispered, the weight of guilt pressing harder. I wanted balance, not chaos. Peace, not war.
But the seeds of his whisoers had taken root in ways he hadn't foreseen. The Jedi who he had whispered the temptations of the dark side to had taken things to far they went further into the dark side than he expected, consumed by the very power they thought they could master. The schism had torn the Order apart, and from it, the Sith had been born. The Sith exist because of me, he admitted, a cold truth settling in his bones.
His shoulders sagged as the full weight of that realization pressed down on him a hand graspign at the bridge of his nose as the teal color faded from his eyes. I caused this. My dream... turned into their nightmare. The wind howled through the ruins, yet nothing compared to the chill in his heart. His vision of balance, of peace, had twisted into something dark, something that had haunted the galaxy for millennia. His fingers brushed the cold, cracked surface of the meditation stone, and for a moment, he could almost feel the warmth of the past, the energy of the Force still lingering here. He had sat here with hope in his heart, believing he could change the Order, that he could lead them to a deeper understanding of the Force. But the schism had torn through everything, turning his dream of balance into the nightmare of the Sith.
The wind picked up again, carrying with it the faintest sounds of the past—the distant hum of lightsabers, the murmurs of Jedi discussing the mysteries of the Force. Laphisto closed his eyes, letting the memories wash over him, allowing himself to relive those moments when the dream was still alive. But the warmth was fleeting, replaced by the cold reality of the present.
They didn't understand. he thought bitterly. They never saw what I was trying to show them. He had tried to bring them balance, to lead them to coexistence between the light and dark sides of the Force. He hadn't wanted war—he had wanted peace. But his vision had been twisted, misunderstood. And now, the galaxy had been plunged into chaos because of it.
I created the Sith. he admitted to himself again, the weight of that truth settling on his shoulders. I set it all in motion. his eyes looked over the meditation chamber somberly. if the sith didnt exist then ossus wouldnt have been destroyed. the jedi order wouldnt have been purged all those years ago and he wouldnt have been forgotten to time. he never would have been locked up to begin with, the galaxy would be at peace not at war.
But in the stillness of the meditation chamber, as the wind howled around him and the broken stones lay silent, something stirred within him. The Lilaste Order. That was his path forward, his way to fix the damage he had caused. The Lilaste Order was more than just an idea—it was his proof that balance could be achieved. Light and dark working together, in harmony, not in opposition. It was everything he had once believed in, everything he had fought for.
This time, I will make it right, he resolved, his mind sharpening with renewed purpose. The Lilaste Order will be the proof. I will show my old masters, and the galaxy, that balance can be achieved.
The thought gave him a strange sense of peace, standing there among the ruins of what had once been his sanctuary. He had made mistakes, terrible ones, but the dream of balance was still alive. The Lilaste Order was his way to show the galaxy that light and dark could coexist, that the Force didn't have to be a battleground.
I may have caused the chaos, but I will restore the balance.
Laphisto's hand tightened on the hilt of his saber, his eyes narrowing as he looked out over the ruined meditation chamber. He wasn't finished yet. He couldn't undo the past, but he could still forge a future. One where his vision of balance became a reality.
He knelt on the cold stone floor, his breath steady as he let the Force flow through him. The broken world around him seemed to fade away as he centered himself, the weight of his past and the promise of the future merging into one.
I will prove it to them, he thought, his eyes closed in deep meditation. I will show them all.
Braze
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