Dark battled light.
Ranks of Obelisk warriors dueled with Light Jedi.
The
air was filled with sounds: Dark Jedi screaming their battlecries when
they
clashed with the enemy, Lighsiders crying for mercy when they fell, Tie
fighters flying over the battlefield hunting down X wings, and the
chanting
of the Krath who bid for power.
The sky turned dark and lightning split
the
clouds. This was the begining of the end, or the end of the begining.
Saber
met saber as foe met foe. This was the battle for darkness. Lords and
leaders of both sides of the Force had been gathering warriors and had
raised enormous armies in the past years. Everyone had waited for this
moment, some with fear, others impatiently. Now there was no order any
more.
Regiments had scattered, units had fled and ranks had perished. At the
end
of the day, most didn't remember the purpose of this battle, but
kept fighting just to survive.
Two days later there still wasn't a winner.
Groups
fled, leaving the battlefield to search for food and rest, because even
a
trained Dark Jedi can't fight longer than two days and two nights
without any food or rest at all.
The two enormous armies were thinned
out.
The war continued not on the field, but in the hearts of the
warriors
who had lived long enough to see how Light Jedi had killed their friends.
When
one of those warriors who survived this battle and returned home, he
felt that the
hatred in his soul, and the darkness in his heart, was bigger than ever before.
The survivors started to hunt down Light Jedi; torturing every
single
one they caught to pay back the blood of their friends, brothers,
sisters
and fellow Dark Siders. They call themselves Hunters, Jedi Hunters.
I was there that day. I saw what happened, and until I'm trained enough to fight the Lightside, the only thing what I can do is to write this down, and tell everyone I meet so that the ones who died that day will be remembered….
