"All that Syrio Forel had taught her went racing through her head.
Swift as a deer.
Quiet as shadow.
Fear cuts deeper than swords.
Quick as a snake.
Calm as still water.
Fear cuts deeper than swords.
Strong as a bear.
Fierce as a wolverine.
Fear cuts deeper than swords.
The man who fears losing has already lost.
Fear cuts deeper than swords.
Fear cuts deeper than swords.
Fear cuts deeper than swords."
—George R.R. Martin, A Game of Thrones: A Song of Ice and Fire

I never before and never again was so shocked that I fell into the near-eternal abyss that was the Dark Side. I felt as if Lorna's lightsaber had been struck through me, instead.

I heard the crackling of electricity all around me, as if my whole body was lighting up in energy. I felt angrier than I ever had before, and my powers reflected it. The dark room blazed with the light I was emitting. There was a scream, though if it was my own or someone else's I do not know.

A sharp ringing dominated my ears until there was no sound except that of my lightning. My optic sense reddened with each second, somehow enhancing my vision. The lightsabers in my hands seemed to wield themselves, using my body for their own selfish purpose.

I wanted to drive my blades into the throat of the girl I called my friend. I wanted to set her ablaze and watch her scream in fire. I wanted so many terrible things to happen as recompense for Niern.

Then I saw her eyes.

Lorna's eyes were not her own. Green mist poured out of her sockets, indicating a possession I should have foreseen. An angry spirit had taken control of Lorna's body and harmed my friend.

I was still angry with Lorna. I was angry at her for being weak enough to let it possess her. I was angry at her for not warning us.

I leapt forward, preparing to crush the spirit, and, if need be, Lorna, too. My body slammed her's to the ground, my lightsabers pinning her neck.

For a moment, I saw the green irises of my friend, fighting the entity inside her. They flickered, unable to sustain the fight. Lorna coughed violently, looking at me pleadingly.

"Do it." She managed to say before she lost control.

I wanted to so badly. Every ounce of me fought to slit her throat.

We had learn about entities, and how they were unable to leave once they possessed a body. If I killed Lorna, I could avenge her wrongdoings and prevent any further casualties.

Tears sizzled in my eyes, evaporating before they fell.

I didn't have long.

I brought down my lightsaber, giving her a quick, painless death.

The spirit struggled, but it could not be released from its bonds. It was forever trapped in the corpse of Lorna Targae.

I could hardly process anything that happened after. My grief finally overwhelmed my anger to the point where I was completely Light Side. My clothing was hot and smoking from my electric rage, but the discomfort it gave was very much deserved and unnoticed.

Though it was deeply frowned upon, I allowed tears to flow down my face. I leaned forward, my forehead touching that of my fallen friend's.

I was so scared of what might have been that I did not consider what was. My worry of what the spirit might do outweighed my fear of losing Lorna's life.

Then I remembered Niern.

Chinelo was already by his side by the time I fell onto his body, too grief-stricken to care if it caused him pain.

He was barely breathing, his rasps echoing in the room. I looked to Chinelo with bleary eyes. He shook his head, his hands futilely pressing Niern's wound.

I grabbed Niern's hand and squeezed tightly. I swallows and tried to focus on sharing my energy with him.

His maud-brown eyes met my blue ones. Niern was always good at communicating without words. He was assuring me that it would be all right.

He opened his mouth to speak. "Tell—" A fit of coughing overtook him. I could feel his pain as he convulsed, ripping his wound open further. "Tell Nysa—"

I shook my head violently. "No." My wide eyes begged him not to speak of such things.

For the last time, I saw that famous Niern-expression, the one that was his and his alone. His smirk made me smile through my tears. "Please," he pleaded. "She ne-needs to know."

My eyes closed, and my hands clamped more firmly around his. "I will." I promised.

His hand went slack.

I could feel his pain diminish as he passed into the Cosmic Force. The Light, the Darkness, it all left him.

I embraced his body for the final time, holding him like it would make him return. I may not have loved him the way Nysa did, but I'd be damned if anyone told me I loved him any less.

Chinelo's stopped applying pressure. I was glad when he did nothing but watch. He did not try to comfort me or pull me away, he simply let me grieve for my friend.

That time, I knew it was me who screamed into the darkness. It was me who unleashed all my pain and sorrow. It was me who depleted my store of anger for the Dark Side.

For a moment, I let the sounds of my frustrations devour me. Chinelo told me later that the whole Temple shook from a giant earthquake, and that the Dark Side of the Force largely engulfed the Light, unbalancing the Force so terribly that the rift was felt by Force-users throughout the galaxy.

If I had known in that one moment that such grief was going to begin to feel normal, I would have continued to scream and yell until I had destroyed the entire galaxy, saving the innocents so many years of pain.