7 Academy

The first few weeks at the academy were just as dull as they were eye-opening. The Sith contacted the force through emotion, not necessarily negative, but intense. The easiest way to get intense emotion was hate, but that wasn't the only way. Because Malekith didn't have much as far as hate went, he decided to focus on the only thing he knew that truly moved him, his self-purpose. He remembered all of the pain and suffering humanity put the untold decillions of lives that humanity killed through negligence and stupidity.

For all the books talked, being a disciple was a very calm life, all things considered. Bane had been different in that he was a prodigious 'rebel' against the brotherhood, while Malekith was essentially a visiting scholar. He also wasn't an acolyte, so he didn't interact with Githany and the like, which was nice. His peers were on the more scholarly side of things and were surprisingly friendly for what they advertised to be.

Early on they had discovered he had zero issue contacting the force, so his instruction in that area was mostly self study, most of his time was spent learning the blade. Malekith figured this was his most important skill to learn at the moment as the force was not a reliable option to use on a wide scale. The more power he showed unnecessarily, the more effort people would place forward to end him. While he was immortal, he didn't want to be 'Abelothed'.

Malekith had also found his weapon of choice, a 'saber phalanx'.

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Two weeks later.

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Kasim, the saber instructor, found Malekith an odd fellow, an excellent student, but odd. Malekith learned incredibly quickly and never complained, never tired.

Without realizing it, they would spar for hours at a time. The young man seemed to be a blank template, one meant to be written upon, without much already there.

His choice of combat had nearly made Kasim shout in glee. He had specially ordered a kortosis and Beskar forged shield for the man, at his request, and it was a thing of beauty.

(Btw, look up star wars knights of zakuul if you'd like to see my inspiration. Also, Beskar was much more comenly used and can be used in smaller amounts when forged as an alloy. No, I'm not sure if this would actually work, but creative lisense and laziness for the win!)

The young man's lightsaber, more of a pike with a blade at the end than anything, was also beautiful.

(Adaptive Saber Parts

http://www.saberparts.com/#/configure?code=10.163.4.0-10.163.4.0-10.163.4.0-10.163.4.0-10.163.4.22-4.116.1.0-9.168.1.0-3.102.1.22-2.58.1.0-1.41.1.0-6.148.3.0-5.144.0.0

Parts

ASP . Staff Extension 1 . Black

ASP . Pommel 6 . Standard

ASP . Female Male 1 . Standard

ASP . Reborn Body . Standard

ASP . Exile Switch . Standard

ASP . Sorcerer Emitter . Standard

ASP . Blade Plug 3 . Silver

ASP . Blade 37'' . null

for the record, assume the whole thing is black, this is just a quick reference picture if you want a firm image)

It had an unusual emitter attached to a long staff. He used the staff in a beautiful conjunction with the shield, fighting almost entirely defensively until his target made a mistake or got tired. He had decent footwork, but his fighting was... passionless. He wasn't a sith, the academy kept him more as a curiosity than anything. It was like watching a non-sentient being preforming a dance, an artist without love for his work. Everything was preformed perfectly at this point, but he was a predictable fighter.

Kasim had once listened to a band, back before he joined the brotherhood, that had something off about their performance. He had asked about it at the bar later, the response from the tender had been the quote he often thought about when looking at the curious outsider, "They don't love to play. Perfect notes, without a dash of love. They play a broken art."

That was what Malekith was, a broken artist.

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