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The air on Malachor felt wrong.
Once upon a time, Sidious had brought him here. To this ruin of a battlefield, marked by the charred remains of Jedi and Sith both.
It felt like a lifetime ago.
He had blindly believed his master's story back then, that the Jedi forced this outcome. But he had spent enough time viewing his surroundings by now to make another assumption. These warriors were struck in the midst of combat. Whoever activated the structure to cause this, had done so on purpose. They had not evacuated their own forces, instead letting them pin down their foes until it was too late for either of them.
He had met few Jedi willing to go to such lengths. For a Sith, it wouldn't even have been a question.
These Knights of the Old Republic fascinated Maul, especially the Sith. They had not followed the Rule of Two, the sheer amount of them made that impossible. What was it like to be a Sith millenia ago? Did these apprentices study together? Did they visit an academy not unlike the temple of the Jedi? What was it like to fight alongside brothers and sisters of the Dark Side?
He could only guess. He had fought alongside only a few.
Sidious had been a storm on the few occasions he'd bothered to even show, as immersed in the Dark Side as a fish in water. Lightning crackled and Palpatine cackled as enemies perished, falling like leaves in the wind.
The image of his Master painful still, Maul's thoughts turned to his brother. Savage had no style, no grace, barely even thinking in combat. He pounced upon their foes like a wild animal, lashing out with raw strength and little precision. Even for a Nightbrother he was, well, savage. Maul had not minded that. He was glad to have him by his side, and leaving the brawn to Savage had left Maul with the satisfying task of planning their operations. It had been a reliable bond, so cruelly severed.
And then… there was her...
Maul came to a halt before an already familiar place. He knew this was the entryway to the Sith Sanctum in this place, he could sense the magnificent and terrible power emanating from within.
But he could not enter.
For it required... another.
"Always two there are."
The Sith of Old wouldn't have worried about this. There were seemingly so many of them, that Maul could only assume this was actually less out of necessity and more so out of symbolism. Power was worthless without a witness to behold it, he supposed.
Yet to him, these odds were insurmountable.
The Sith willed the Force into service, but Maul couldn't help but wonder if this was the Force striking back. He was, like it or not, trapped.
His ship was trashed, far beyond his ability to repair. He suspected sabotage but had little to go off on. Furthermore, he had foolishly advised those that followed him to stay behind and wait for his signal, craving the power for himself which now, ironically, was out of his reach.
He desired to cry out in rage, but restrained himself. There was no one to hear him and in a dark isolated place such as this, he had to preserve his energy. The Dark Side would keep him alive like it always had, but there was no point in overexerting himself.
He had lost his ability to tell the time. This place was dark during night and day both, blurring together till it lost all meaning.
Another man would've gone insane. Maul already had experience in that department, and as much as it called to him, he would not fall to it again. It was a constant battle over his mind and it was growing dire.
The void knew his name, his past and so his failures. Sith embraced the full spectrum of emotion, and so everything he felt pained him to the core. His losses, his wounds, his lost dreams, everything. Was it not easier to give in? To despair again? To let go of what little sanity was left and-
"No." A female voice replied. It sounded remarkably resiliant.
In the dark of the night, memories fell upon Maul like acid rain.
His fateful battle on Naboo.
Freezing near death with Savage.
Rook being crushed by that Dark Lord.
His capture on Mandalore.
Mother Talzin giving her life as he could do nothing but watch.
Savage dying in his arms.
Starving on Lotha Minor.
The Inquisitors cutting down his crew-
It all hurt so much, Maul couldn't stand it. He fell to his mechanical knees with his hands on his face. He would cry if he had tears left to shed.
And yet…
When the darkness had him in its grip, when it seemed all consuming, when he remembered just how much he lost, he clung onto another memory. Of crimson crashing upon scarlet…
“You promised me vengeance!” Devon exclaimed, her fury bright as the kyber in her blade.
“The stars bleed red with the blood of our enemies!” He had returned.
“You promised me freedom!” She yelled, eyes glowing like molten gold.
“And Victory has set you free!” he almost screamed back, the same glow in his.
“You promised me power!” She continued, her saber clashing against his.
“And I have trained you to reach power beyond your imagination, Apprentice.”, he growled back. He intended to remind her of her place, and he did. The words unleashed something she held back just then.
At last their draw broke as his hold faltered, needing to dodge her blows instead of catching them.
“Only power beyond yours.” Devon spoke, her heated anger turning cold as ice.
She struck him then, with Force and body both, as his hand let go of his saber in pain. Before the weapon reached the ground, she had already redirected it towards herself.
“I have discovered all your secrets. All your knowledge and all your power... is mine.“
Maul watched as his double-bladed saber reformed in her hands.
“You have nothing left to teach me.”
She ignited the blades, looking towards Maul with determination. Deep down, somehow, he knew this moment would come someday. For the last time, the Apprentice looked upon the Master. Their eyes met for a second that felt like forever. So much left unsaid. So much history. So much neither knew how to even begin. Maul spoke anyway.
"I was trying to make you a great warrior.”
A thousand unspoken words became two.
“You succeeded.”
And then… there was silence.
The air filled with nothing but the vibrating, electrical hum of kyber crystals. Maul’s head fell, facing the ground beneath. He awaited the final blow, it would be a fitting end, he was ready for it. Perhaps he had waited for it ever since that day on Naboo…
But it never came. When he finally looked up again, she was gone. He couldn’t see where she’d gone. And with growing horror he realized, he could not sense her in the Force either. She blended into the shadows like he taught her and more.
She had left and a part of him had gone with her, not just the saber.
The bond between Master and Apprentice had been severed then, cut with the very same saber that had tied them together all those years ago on Janix. Nevertheless, after searching for countless days, week, maybe months, stranded upon Malachor and isolated from all other life, in the depths of the Force, Maul could feel her once more. Not herself, entirely, but her impression upon the Force. She was impossibly far away, but she was alive. A lesser man would’ve felt relief, Maul simply acknowledged the information. He had neither skill nor intent to reach out to her, even if that was a possibility he knew she would no longer answer. But the beat of her heart and her signature in the Force was like a single star shining upon the night sky, guiding a sailor home to port. Even after all this time.
She was no longer his Apprentice. He would need to take on another in her stead when the opportunity arose, as she would be sure to claim her own Apprentice, in time. After all, a Master without an Apprentice was a Master of Nothing.
But on the lonesome, dark nights on Malachor, he clung onto the memory like his life depended on it.
Perhaps it did.
"Where is Devon Izara?"
"I am sorry to report that we have no more trace of her than when we spoke last, Lady Qi’ra."
The leader of the Crimson Dawn hit the table with her fist in a fit of anger. The moment passed and her hand hurt. She looked upon the messenger, who was shaking in his boots. No wonder, Maul would've killed him for such a failure. Devon would've too, but she likely would've ripped out what was left of his mind before. That was why she needed to track that tricky Twi'lek down before the roles could be reversed.
Lord Maul she knew. Lord Maul was stuck on a dead planet with no way out, she had her best men make sure of that. No amount of Force magic could escape that trap, surely.
But Devon? No one knew her whereabouts. It was as if she blended into the darkness herself. And while Devon had split ways with her old Master, she had no love for Qi’ra either. She could claim Crimson Dawn if only she wished, and Qi’ra hated it. Every shadow around the corner could erupt in the crimson glow that accompanied Devon's carnage. It caused Qi’ra countless sleepless nights, and she didn't know how many more of those she could handle.
“Get more men, I don’t care what operations you need to interrupt for it. I want that tail-headed fiend found! Now get out.”
The minion left and Qi’ra was left alone with her worries and fears.
Far away, on a small, unremarkable planet in the Outer Rim with no strategic value to neither Empire nor Crime Lords, a pink Twi’lek dug into her food. They were some sort of noodles with sauce, tasting well enough for her current situation. She had sensed a shift in the Force and taken a page from both Jedi and Sith before her, going into hiding until the danger either passed or revealed itself proper. Meanwhile, she would blend into the shadows for a time, she was all too familiar with them. The sabers at her side hummed, and Devon continued on her journey.
After all, she was a survivor.
Just like him.