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When they called the Dark Side seductive, they really weren’t lying. It whispered in the back of his mind, calling on him to use it more and more as the days went on, as the war got worse, as more and more of his friends and loved ones died.
Eventually something sent him over the edge. He wasn’t sure what it was precisely that had finally broke the camel’s back, but he found himself sitting across the table from Count Dooku as they plotted to turn the war around and save as many as they could while the Republic burned at their feet.
“Sidious gave me a Darth name.” Dooku said suddenly, and Obi Wan looked up. “But I do not feel that Tyrannus suits me well. You, I think we might call Ignatus, the spark, but I am less sure about myself.”
“Licentia.” Obi Wan said after a beat, boldness, or liberty, to remember the way in which he walked away from the Order, from the Republic.
“Darth Licentia.” Dooku said thoughtfully, and Obi Wan turned Ignatus over in his mind. It was a good name, and Obi Wan liked the meaning that he had ascribed to it. They would burn it all down and start again.