"THE PARABLE OF THE SABERSMITH"
Transcribed for holobook by Matriarch Lord Sohma Anantasari
(-Physical copy available upon request-)
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Once, there lived a Sabersmith. His craft was known far and wide, for among all Sabersmiths, only he knew the secret to forging a blade of light so fine that it could part the fabric of space and time with a single stroke, though none had been deemed worthy to wield it.
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An ancient Sith named Darth Armadus, master of all forms of lightsaber combat, sought from the Sabersmith a blade to exceed all others. With such a blade, Darth Armadus would stand at the peak of the Sith, unmatched in martial prowess in all the galaxy.
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Darth Armadus sent his servants in search of the Sabersmith, scouring every world across the Imperial domain and beyond. Finally, they found him living alone on a barren world, and commissioned their master’s lightsaber. They told the Sabersmith that above all others, their master would be worthy of the Sabersmith’s skill. Hesitantly, the Sabersmith accepted, and began his work.
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When the Sabersmith arrived at court to present Darth Armadus with the saber, it was then that Darth Armadus asked the Sabersmith the question. The question was familiar to the Sabersmith, for it was the question all who sought his services asked:
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- “Great Sabersmith, what is your secret? How do you forge a blade so fine that it can part the fabric of space and time with a single stroke?”
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And the Sabersmith answered with the same answer he had given many times before:
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- “There is no secret.”
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Darth Armadus was perplexed, but accepted his new lightsaber nonetheless. Indeed, it was a masterpiece. Only the finest starmetal for the hilt. An emitter lens so clear it was invisible to the naked eye and could only be sensed with the touch of the Force. A crystal of such purity that it seemed to sing with the energy of destruction.
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And Darth Armadus swung the lightsaber. His form was perfect. The arc of the blade was beautiful in its simplicity. The air hissed and the saber hummed and the entire court stood in silent awe before the display of Darth Armadus’ utter superiority.
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But he did not part space and time.
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Consumed by anger, Darth Armadus flung the saber back at the Sabersmith, who caught it out of the air and held it firmly in his grasp. It was then that Darth Armadus gave his rebuke. The rebuke was familiar to the Sabersmith, for it was the rebuke all who sought his services spat:
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- “Sabersmith, you cannot forge a blade that can part space and time with a single stroke. That is why there is no secret.”
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And the Sabersmith swung the lightsaber. His form was perfect. The arc of the blade was beautiful in its simplicity. The air hissed and the saber hummed and the entire court stood in silent awe as the blade passed through Darth Armadus, a killing blow.
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But Darth Armadus stood. He had felt the saber sever his flesh, felt it end his life, and yet, he stood. Whole. The question died upon his lips, but the Sabersmith answered regardless.
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- “There is no secret to forging a blade that can part space and time. The secret belongs to the hand which makes the stroke.”
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