(This will be chapter will mostly be from the perspective of Anakin)
The air on Tython was crisp—too crisp. Every breath I took tasted of stone and wisdom, like the Force itself was watching us from the trees, the rocks, the sky above. I stood barefoot on the white stone of the duel grounds, the robes of the Eternal Dawn Order tied lightly at my waist, the wind brushing through my hair. No armor. No lightsaber. No distractions.
Just me and Maul.
He was already there when I arrived, sitting in the center of the ring carved into the ground by Cain's own saber weeks ago. The markings represented harmony—yin and yang, fury and balance. Maul rose slowly, red and black flesh glinting in the sunlight, the sun painting harsh shadows along the tattoos of his face and chest. His breathing was steady. Calm. Too calm for a man who once shrieked in rage, crawling through garbage and blood with madness in his eyes.
I'd seen what he was. What Sidious had turned him into. But now... now he was something more. "You're stronger than you were when we last time we fought," I said plainly, hands loose at my sides. "You're not a wild beast anymore."
Maul tilted his head, his eyes cold. "And you, 'Chosen One'... are no longer the trembling child I nearly took on Naboo. Nor the pawn who feared to question the hand that fed him." I didn't flinch. "That's why we're here. To to settle everything and to see what we've become."
He nodded once. Obi-Wan stood a hill overseeing the edge of the ring, arms crossed and expression unreadable. I could feel his presence and his trust not just for me, but for this. Letting me and Maul close this chapter in our lives
Mother Talzin stood next to him She said nothing she didn't need to. Maul and I stepped to the center of the ring. He bowed. I returned it Then the wind shifted we got into our stances. And we moved.
Maul struck first, his right fist a whip-crack aimed at Anakin's temple—not out of malice, but not holding back either Anakin ducked low, pivoting his back foot and parrying with an open palm, redirecting the momentum and spinning behind Maul's shoulder with practiced fluidity.
The contact was brief, Maul turned sharply, eyes narrowing. He smiled.
Good.
Maul shifted into another stance—one foot planted forward, the other back, knees bent slightly, hips lowered like a prowling predator. It was the style the Nightbrothers taught, honed by his own adaptations during his years training with the Nightbrothers and Paladins.
Anakin mirrored with a mix of Ataru and Teräs Käsi, low to the ground, hands open. They moved again. A flurry of blows—punch, elbow, knee, sweep. Anakin blocked two, dodged three, took one to the ribs, and returned with a backhand strike that cracked across Maul's jaw.
Maul stumbled but didn't fall. He grinned "Your master taught you well," he growled. "Which one?" Anakin replied, throwing a lightning-fast kick that Maul caught and used to throw Anakin off balance—only for the younger man to recover midair with a twist, landing in a roll that brought him right back to his feet.
This wasn't a fight but a conversation of conviction through their bodies. Each motion kept pace in the conversation. Maul's told of pain, of rage carved into sinew by Sith teachings and betrayal. Anakin's spoke of chains broken, and a struggling he had to find balance in himself.
They clashed again—closer this time, breath mingling as shoulders slammed together and hands grappled for position. Maul ducked and twisted into a throw—Anakin landed hard, grunting as the stone knocked air from his lungs.
He rolled and rose. Wiped blood from his lip then they met again.
Maul's faster than I expected not just with his techniques but also how he stays center in the force like he was used to this. Maul had always been a beast, a weapon. But now he's more refined.
But so was I every time he knocks me back, I learn. Every time he grapples, I shift. Every punch he lands, I return sharper. I duck under a spinning heel strike and counter with a two-fist jab into his ribs.
He growls in pain—and laughs. "You're still too kind, Skywalker." "And you're still too slow," I shot back. I move in again—feint right, kick left. He blocks.
But he's breathing harder and so was I. We've been dancing in this ring for almost twenty minutes. No Force. No saber. Just fists, sweat, and grit. And suddenly I'm glad. Glad this isn't a fight to the death. Because even if I could win—I don't think either of us would walk away the same.
He tries to sweep my leg—I leap ee rushes forward—I pivot. He roars and throws a wild elbow—I let it pass. And then we're there again, locked shoulder to shoulder. Gasping. Trembling and neither of us was willing to fall first.
Maul let his head rest against Anakin's for the briefest second. Their grips held. Breath to breath. Then he took a step back.
Anakin followed. They raised fists again—but didn't strike. And as if by mutual understanding, they lowered their guards. As the sun began to lower behind Tython's peaks, Maul and Anakin bowed to each other one final time.
The moment Maul stepped forward again, I knew the spar was far from over. He didn't speak, and neither did I we simply moved. The Force ignited around us and in us soothing our muscles and rejuvenating us. Still no sabers yet, just fists and elbows now laced with the power of the force. Each strike cracked the air. Each step shook the ground beneath our feet.
I ducked under a glowing punch, countered with a Force-imbued elbow to his ribs. The pressure shockwave blew a crater into the stone beside us. Maul absorbed it and spun, lashing out with a boot that nearly caught my temple.
We were blurs now—two shadows darting and slamming like thunder across the sparring ring. The air cracked as we collided.
Then came the lightning. Maul's roar ripped through the wind as red lightning burst from his fingers, the bolts arcing wildly, slamming into the barrier field that protected the arena. My hands shot up instinctively—and I breathed Electric Judgment came forth. A web of radiant white lightning lanced from my fingers to meet his crimson tide. The two collided midair with a sound like shattering glass.
For a moment, it was like we were both frozen in a storm of our own making.
Then silence I exhaled slowly. Maul stood across from me, panting lightly. I reached down and ignited my first saber—my signature amethyst blade. Then, from my belt, I drew the yellow saber I had crafted weeks ago with Sarah.
The second blade snapped to life with a brilliant flash, humming to life. Maul responded without hesitation. A brilliant snap-hiss echoed as he ignited his double-bladed saber—but this time, the crimson hue was gone.
Now, it glowed violet, deep and dangerous. We clashed in a flash of color and movement. Obi-Wan had seen many battles in his life. He had dueled Sith Lords, clashed with bounty hunters, survived warzones and worse. But he never had he seen a display of this magnitude.
Anakin and Maul blurred across the dueling ring like twin comets, their sabers clashing in bursts of gold and violet. Shockwaves of energy rolled across the training grounds with each impact.
Stone cracked beneath their feet. Their movements were perfectly controlled, elegant, devastating. "Have they done this before?" Obi-Wan asked, eyes wide. "No," Talzin said with a smile that sent chills down his spine."
He turned slightly toward her. "Maul he's different I can't tell what it is though ." "Maul and Cain discovered something," Talzin replied, voice low. "A technique never mastered by my anyone only traces of it was touched until those two decide to commit to to it. A union of Battle Meditation and the art of Tutaminis."
Obi-Wan narrowed his eyes. "What kind of union?" Talzin gestured toward the ring, where Maul was spinning like a storm, parrying three of Anakin's strikes in a single movement.
"Battle Focus." Her voice became reverent. "He creates a nexus within a set radius—a sanctuary of motion and energy. Within it, Maul doesn't waste energy. He doesn't fight for dominance. He receives, absorbs, and redirects he sets the flow of the fight."
Obi-Wan's gaze fell to the circular carvings on the ground—etched with geometric perfection. "The circle…" he muttered. "Exactly," Talzin nodded. "In that space, Maul can harvest the kinetic force of each strike, each footstep—even Anakin's rage—and feed it into his next movement."
Obi-Wan's heart quickened. "So he's draining Anakin… by defending." "Not draining," Talzin said, smiling wider. "But harmonizing. As Cain would say—he has become the eye of the storm."
(Anakin) I was starting to feel it my shoulders burned my breathing hitched. Each of my swings was flawless—but every time I landed a hit, Maul barely moved. He flowed with it. Redirected it. As if he had studied me for years. As if he already knew the weight of my every strike, and had made peace with his.
I pulled back and threw my hand forward—five copies of myself, solid Force doppelgangers, exploded into being.
They surrounded him in an instant. I stayed at the edge of the ring, channeling every ounce of focus into the clones. They were fast. Deadly. I had trained this technique hard with Cain. They struck from five directions at once—one aiming high, one for the knees, one from behind, two in unison from the flanks.
Maul closed his eyes then he moved like a blur. Obi-Wan's mouth went dry as Maul exploded into motion with supernatural clarity. He wasn't fighting the clones. He was dancing through them. Every blow that came at him was turned, redirected—his saber never stopped moving, but never wasted energy. Each impact was absorbed. Each redirect was precise.
"He's barley even touching them," Obi-Wan whispered.
"He doesn't need to," Talzin said. "He knows where they are. Where they'll be. That's the nature of Battle Focus it doesn't see the future. It feels the present so clearly that the next moment becomes inevitable."
Obi-Wan swallowed. Anakin's clones began to falter. Their edges lost cohesion. They were unraveling—wasting too much power, too much strain on their creator. And then—one by one—they vanished. Anakin I dropped to one knee, panting hard. Maul stood across the circle, calm as ever, eyes closed.
I looked at him and felt it—that technique, that composure… it was like Cain. But sharper and more aggressive. As if Maul had learned serenity not through peace, but through total acceptance of his fury.
I stood. My sabers "Let's end this," I said.
Maul's eyes opened and I saw it.
The fracture. The Shatterpoint. Right behind his left foot—the way he shifted it just slightly, to absorb power through his dominant leg. We breathed and stood completely still. in a flash a giant crack was heard all the way back at the Jadaii temple. Maul and Anakin both stand in the center of the carved arena circle their lightsabers deactivated on the ground .
Obi-wan and Talzin approach the two. Obi-wan Touches Anakin to see he is unresponsive. "These two somehow fought so hard they managed to knock each other out while standing, how?" Obi-wan said. Talzin levitated Maul and Anakin in. "They exhausted themselves and refused to back down. Something tells me they will both be at this again."
"Barriss is gonna be mad seeing these two like this, When they do clash again hopefully its still remains friendly I don't think the planet can handle what their becoming." Talzin nodded we are all changing Kenobi it is part of life to grow and change."
obi-wan nodded "True."