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A pitiful creature, trapped in the dark. She had always been such, of course, but the teachings of the Sith she had sworn to all that time would not allow her to see this, not when it had allowed her to pretend at strength, at power and domination and freedom.
But that had all been taken from her now. Her apprentice had committed a betrayal of the worst kind, and instead of killing her as a proper Sith should, had inflicted upon her former master a far crueler fate. Stripped of all that she’d believed she’d had, that stregth, that power, that freedom. Stripped even of her words, and left to perish not of the apprentice’s blade or their mastery of the Force, but the mere elements, withering her away to dust.
Still, despite being reduced to this, she clung to life, clung to the dark side, half-mad and full of rage. She lashed out at anything that came near, driven only by hate. Gone were the days of masterful planning, of conquering systems at a time. Now she was only a half-believed rumor on a tiny backwater planet; a ghost in all but her own flesh.
And then the girl appeared.
At first she thinks the girl is nothing, just another creature she can bring terror and death to in a desperate echo of what she used to be.
But then, as the girl grasps the saber, the Sith’s hold of it in the Force entirely impotent…
Then, she knows what the girl is. A cruel cycle, continued.
The Sith is reduced further, a mere vision of the future for a girl who will not heed it.
All she can do is scream wordlessly, aimlessly raging against her fate, as the girl cuts her down upon her own blade.