The Dark Throne
Once upon a time, in a planet previously known as "The great barren", there was a city built around a dark citadel, from which a Sith overlord ruled his now vast empire. This lord had once had a great influence in the hearts and minds of those desperate enough to travel to this remote world, in hopes of finding what was called "the dark enlightenment". In that galaxy there was no shortage of desperate souls, and so ultimately a whole city was built by those dark seekers.
In the beginnings the Sith Lord was active in the community that had spawned around his dark tower, he would take the time to teach his acolytes, to train those worthy enough to catch his eye... and to cut down those who could overshadow his own light. There were many who, gathered around his teachings and empowered by his training, took the mantle of knights and lords, and who broke out to find adventures of their own.
One day, the old master retreated to his citadel, never to be seen again. All that was left of him were his now obsolete teachings, and his last words before departing to a self-imposed exile: "I shall now reward only those brave enough to cast a shadow on my name". His hopeful students were left out in the cold. What could those words he uttered mean? Rumors spread that, inside his dark citadel, sitting in his even darker throne, he still watched his acolytes, looking for someone worthy of becoming his new and only pupil. And so those would-be knights of the dark did their best to seek the attention of the master. Some did good deeds, others did evil. Some fought, some built, and some cursed the name and the apathy of the master, too cold or lazy to break his exile and reward those who deserved it.
Years after the master sought reclusion in his tower, the city that was once ripe with activity was almost empty. Only a handful remained seeking approval from their deaf master, a group of embittered warriors who now fought amongst themselves to cut down opposition and, hopefully, be rewarded by their master. A master they still firmly believed was watchful. But there was one in the group who had had enough, "I will climb to the throne, and ask the master myself what is it that he seeks in an apprentice". The faces of his peers turned pale "But... it is too dangerous!" managed to mumble one of them. But this brave man did not listen to the words of those timid souls who urged him to stay and to play a game where no reward would even be awarded. A game where the mere act of playing signed one's defeat.
And so he walked to the dark tower, kicked the heavy door, and climbed the stairs one by one. He was scared, he felt an intense fear, but his anger was stronger, his anger and his lust, his lust to know, to grow, to become the chosen one. After climbing what seemed like infinite stairs, he got to the dark throne. And there he found... an empty throne. There was no master there, not dead nor alive. And as he understood, there had never been. In the throne, though, he saw a piece of paper, with the name of the old master written on it. "...who casts a shadow upon my name" the would-be apprentice reminded the last words of the master. And at that very moment, it all made sense. Emboldened by what has dawned upon him, he sat in the throne. And suddenly a voice, apparently coming from nowhere, whispered "Hello, master".