Qarro felt his fear swelling with every passing second as he awaited his master’s arrival for their nocturnal council.
Draqen had vanished into the darkness hours ago to handle a mandated task the emperor had given him, leaving Qarro entirely alone in the room’s silence, a thing he’d been used to, whether he was here in the north or back at Bravos.
As a master of the mystic arts, silence was a best friend.
He laid his senses bare, desperately reaching out through the aether—the Force, he mentally corrected, recalling his master’s stern lecture from days prior.
Over the last week, the Dark Lord of the Sith had rationed out fragments of knowledge and expertise.
To Palpatine, these lessons were elementary and basic skills; to Qarro, they were monumental.
His early attempts to employ them often ended in futile failure, but he reminded himself it was far too early to master an art that demanded dictatorial power, precision, and unyielding focus.
Through these sessions, Qarro had been introduced to the lore of the Sith and the Dark Side, opening his eyes to the vast, terrifying scope of the galaxy.
His master had even deigned to teach him of their mortal enemies: the Jedi.
For millennia, the Jedi had waged war against the Sith until Emperor Palpatine orchestrated their absolute annihilation.
Thousands upon thousands of Force-sensitives wiped out by a single man’s machinations and power, leaving only the Emperor and his chosen servants to rule an entire galaxy.
Palpatine could not forge life itself, but he could conjure suffocating darkness and brew catastrophic storms; he could make the very earth rumble and fracture with terrible upheavals.
His master had told him as much, and Qarro hadn’t doubted it for a single second.He still remembered that droning moment, the very juncture of their first encounter, and in every hour since, the Dark Lord had proven his powers true repeatedly, and the scope of it remained mysterious and immeasurable.
Yet, this awe only brought Qarro back to a frustrating riddle: why would such a god-like entity allow a man like Lord Eddard Stark to live if he was being such a nuisance?
Ned Stark remained a stubborn obstacle to the Emperor’s grand design.
For a second time, the Lord of Winterfell had rejected an offer that would bring his lands immense wealth, modernization, and powerful alliances.
His influence in Essos already stretched far and wide, reaching even the distant shores of the Jade Sea.
There was little Qarro couldn’t achieve.
While the truly supernatural elements of this world still eluded his grasp, that crack would soon be sealed; the emperor had assured him of this with his tutelage.
And as usual, political dominance, economic strangleholds, and boundless wealth were already firmly within his clutches.
That immense terrestrial power was precisely why the Dark Lord had deemed Qarro so important.
It was why Palpatine had elevated him, dubbing him his second, and why the Dark Lord had entrusted him with the vision of the future.
He stretched his senses further, desperately trying to feel the pulsing life around him.
He even tried to sense his master—a futile effort, he knew.
Yet, the sheer impossibility of the task never stopped Qarro from practicing.
Mind tricks were among the few practical techniques his master had hinted at, though this early in his apprenticeship, galactic history consumed their nightly meetings more than lectures on how to wield the dark side.
Palpatine had noted that Qarro’s strength in ‘the Force’ was decent enough.
And so, with time, training, and deep understanding, it would shape a rough diamond like himself into a polished cut one.
Suddenly, a jolt of alarm shot through him.
The Force rippled, offering a sudden, sharp impression of his lord.
He was here.
Qarro strained to pinpoint the precise location, but the sensation vanished a second too quickly.
He spun in shock toward the open window, where the wooden shutters were wide open to the night air.
“You are improving,” a youthful voice murmured.
Moonlight illuminated the silhouette standing at the threshold.
No matter how many times the Dark Lord reassured him, Qarro could never entirely suppress the primal fear that coiled in his gut whenever his master was near.
It didn’t matter what they discussed—even when their councils turned to mundane politics, a subject where Palpatine was terrifyingly effective.
The Emperor could lecture ancient bankers and wealthy elites on the tenets of economics and business as if they were mere children.
Qarro assumed it was to be expected; coming from a society where they could traverse the darkness of space or the other side of the earth in an hour or two because of their technology.
“Though I stood directly behind you for the last two minutes without your notice, my friend.”
At those words, Qarro flinched, smoothly uncoiling from his meditative position to drop into a deep, reverent bow.
“My lord.” the old man said in greeting.
“I try to practice as you’ve shown me everyday.”
“And that is good, for refining your senses is the foundation of wielding the Force, just as crucial as understanding what the Force truly is,” the Stark boy said as he moved away from the open shutter.
He glided across the room and took a seat in a shadowed chair in the corner.
“In time, you shall see the fruits of your labor so long as you continue to heed my training and teachings, now on to more important matters.”
The boy leaned back, studying Qarro.
“I understand your meeting with Stark did not yield the desired results.”
“This vessel’s father is as stubborn as a mule. He does not trust outsiders—not yet. But his defiance serves our grander designs nonetheless. You will continue to press him until matters on my end are resolved. We must first establish a foothold before we can take our true steps forward.” The dark lord said as if nodding to himself.
“I would suspect you’ll try to endear on convincing him again?” Qarro asked as he sat nearby to his lord.
“I would and will until he cracks, and he will crack. Ned Stark’s weaknesses lay bare, and more so for his family. The maester and I will come and present to him something different this time around, though Luwin has served his purpose in opening his mind for, our dear Lord Ned continues admiring my perseverance, after each failure.”Palpatine said.
The dark lord focused his blue eyes on the old Bravosi man, unblinking in his gaze.
“Beyond his mild suspicions of me, he cannot deny the absolute truth: That I am brilliant. Unbeknownst to the world, my true nature may be. I have moved my pieces flawlessly. He sees only a young child with a spectacular mind—a mind he will soon rely upon. A mind he shall crave like a drug. I have seen it, Qarro. The Force shows me many paths, and I have already deduced the ultimate truth.”
“By your will then, my master,” the lord of the covenant bowed his head regarding his words.
“Worry not, my friend, this is merely the beginning,” Palpatine murmured, his tone dripping with dark promise.
“Ned Stark plays a vital role in the future—the sole reason I have not yet ended his worthless life. He is our gateway to chaos. My visions have shown me much, and I have meditated deeply upon them. The Lion shall betray the Wolf, and the pack will wage war against the Lion.”
Palpatine spoke in metaphors, but Qarro easily pierced their meaning.
If Ned Stark was a necessary sacrifice to fracture the realm—a catalyst to pave their way toward conquering the continent—then the Emperor’s restraint made perfect sense.
He hadn’t killed the Lord of Winterfell and claimed his seat because a greater collapse was required.
Palpatine could easily have seized power, even in this youthful body, but total chaos served a grander purpose.
“Then we shall continue to prepare in earnest,” Qarro replied, bowing his head.
“Good… good,” Palpatine hissed softly, a distant gleam in his eyes.
“Now, we must also look outward. If we are to completely dominate Braavos and tie its immense wealth to my will, we must plan meticulously. The magisters and keyholders of the Iron Bank are selfish, power-hungry creatures. They are nothing new; I have dealt with their kind across a thousand worlds. Some we shall remove forcefully. Others, we shall compel by feeding their deepest desires.”
“Coin and resources are the gears that churn Braavos,” Palpatine declared.
“And those same gears shall tear it down, grinding the city until it answers to a new master.”
“My influence already sinks deep into Braavos, my lord,” Qarro reminded him smoothly.
“It would take very little to install a puppet in our favor, or to bend the Sealord and many others to our side. Of course, we have many enemies.”
“That is well,” Palpatine replied, the youthful face twisting into an assessing mask.
“But you shall need more. In three weeks’ time, you will return to Braavos. You will bring back the coin I require, along with your most trusted servants. I shall see for myself if their loyalty to you is as absolute as you claim—and if their skills in combat are worthy of their service to me here.”
Qarro bowed his head lower, his voice steady despite the significance of his master’s words; it was a test.
“I can assure you, my lord. You will find none more committed, and you shall see that their martial prowess is not lacking.”
“We shall see.” The sith lord responded back.