The cold immediately set in as Zeta's feet and presence touched land. The wind was quite strong, but much stronger than expected; the wind stung his eyes, something he stubbornly ignored.

The wind and the blizzard that was quick to approach made it hard to see; a great challenge.

Zeta did not bother to take notice of anything at first but the shuttle he had just parted from, Arkan followed after him.

"As you wish," he answered him simply, his words confirmed with a quick movement to his belt as he removed his lightsaber from his belt. The weapon was not the only piece of fighting material on his belt, but for some reason, he felt more inclined to use it.

Arkan was someone that could match his own strength and speed, something Zabrak's was well known for in the open field of battle.

"Begin," he said as he ignited his weapon, the red blade quickly hummed to life as he kept his gaze toward Arkan through the clouded atmosphere.

He would allow Arkan to make the first move.

"In calligraphy," Arkan proceeded out, opposite of Darth Zeta, bringing out both lightsaber and lightblade and compelling the creatures to wrap their tongues around his index fingers, "each stroke is a reflection of the person's focus and skill, precision and control that graces the page like a blade through the air. A person's mastery of calligraphy could also be displayed in their mastery of the blade, their passion a key in this.."

It came from behind, and seemingly from all around him, the blizzard wrapped him, consumed him, in its cold, icy embrace. Held in its strength and devouring darkness, Arkan closed his eyes and allowed this dark force to numb him. From this numbing, he released the need to believe he was mortal and filled his mind with the potential scenario ahead...

With Zeta's blade ignited, Arkan quickly processed through all the combat routines, instinctive defensive and offensive strikes, and any Force-enhanced moves. The momentum inside this numb shell was building, his will and being drawing from the stored and reserved energy which he had obtained from Ruusan. As though Arkan was extremely agitated, sparks of electricity started exploding off his form, an extension of the growing tension within him. And when he felt that when his precision and focus was at its zenith--

Arkan's eyes flashed open with a silver glaze, silencing the sparks that sprouted from his form.

The blizzard seemed to have become silent to him, the snow slowed almost to a standstill for him and he utilized this. Arkan ran toward Zeta, the snow dispersing into water droplets that suspended in midair as they brushed against his skin, he put forth his inactive lightsaber handle in his left hand, his right hand behind him. At his speed and grace of movement, the slowed pace of the blizzard began to open before him, like curtains they began to part and show Darth Zeta beyond just the glowing blade the Sith held. And in that moment of visibility, Arkan pulled his left back down to the side and slashed forward with his telekinetics activated lightblade whose blade left a long red trail because of the delay of time around him.

The winds continued to grow in strength, the snow continued to cloud his vision. None of these factors seemed to matter to Zeta, as the force aided him in his difficult atmosphere.

His concentration was placed mostly on the patterns of the air, he looked for any sudden changes in the wind; a sign that meant Arkan was near.

Using the clouded atmosphere as his weapon, the Zabrak brought his weapon to bare with the change of wind pattern, sticking to slash near the vicinity of the wind change, not completely sure if he had countered the other's attack.

His ears and the wind were his "sight". Though he could not see Arkan, he could hear his footsteps, the force enhancing his ability to hear at a broader range. The wind gave him the sense of direction he needed to feel Arkan's movements.

He did not speak; words would only allow Arkan to sense his direction better.

He did not believe in moving about, it made it easier for him to sense Arkan. He was near by, so was Arkan.

He would be Arkan's puppet, his test subject, a rare thing indeed. Two Zabraks, yet each working to use the force in different ways.

Both sabers passed closely over one another, making a strong feedback sound that put Arkan out of his enhancement trance and into a more versatile state of mind. He deactivated both of his sabers and rolled away, stopped by his right leg out behind him and left leg bent before him. With both arms out wide to both sides, he looked to the glowing blade that was only a short number of feet before him.

On-Off. On-Off. On-Off. Arkan practiced the timing of the activation of his blades in his mind. Then in application to reality, he started wheeling his lightsaber handles around with his index fingers as the hub. Many weeks of practicing this, Arkan seemed to have perfected this cyclic lightsaber combat style. Each time the blade switched on, it passed outward, then deactivated as it neared and passed by his arms and body. Round and round the blades went, on and off. Until Arkan held both sabers offline and in his hands.

"Impierna," Arkan's eyes flashed silver as a circle of fire began to form twenty feet away from both of them. The precision of this formation was just assumption, it passed under the ship they had boarded and continued until both ends connected.

Following this, Arkan darted at Zeta. His lightblade went out first, wheeling outward with the blade suddenly ignited then as it came back under Arkan's arm, off-on, it passed through without severing a limb. Split-second precision. And Arkan wheeled it away and off, allowing the lightsaber to wheel vertically forward with the same precision activation and deactivation method, then pulled it away and off as well. And in the final action of this quick attack, both blades wheeled forward as Arkan pushed himself back with his feet.

The other Zabrak could not have seen Zeta's face, but if he could have he would have identified amusement.

Zeta had already noticed a flaw of Arkan’s, though he hardly believed that Arkan considered it a flaw at all.

At a time when the activation and the deactivation of a weapon would have been a nuisance to the Zabrak's ears, it was not.

Instead of concentrating on the noise itself the Zabrak focused on catching more from it. It took the Sith a few seconds to notice the pattern.

The only thing he could conclude from the odd action was to bring about simple distraction.

Zeta failed to notice the significance of the word mentioned, perhaps because he was too focused or it just did not matter to him.

Even as he began to notice the on-off pattern, and the slight noticed pattern of fluent movement he felt the other's mind hard at work. No, not hard at work with focusing on his moves, but with the force as well.

He did not turn his gaze away from Arkan to take notice of the spectacle happening near the ship, his eyes were on Arkan.

Arkan failed to see his flaw.

Zeta would not call Arkan on his flaw; he'd let the Zabrak experience the flaw on his own.

Still he did not speak as he retracted another blade from his belt, igniting it quickly as he brought the orange blade forward along with his already ignited red blade. Both of his blades came to counter Arkan's but along with the counter Zeta propelled brute strength forward in the movement, hoping to make Arkan lose balance as he pushed himself backwards with his feet.

With the sudden surprise of strength put against him, Arkan fell back. Yet due to quick reflexes, he rolled backward instead and closed his lightsabers off beside him. Through the flow of the Force that flowed within him, Arkan felt as though his heart were sinking. Not because of Zeta's tactic or the environment around him, it was something else.

Clipping the sabers to his side, Arkan did not feel all too well in spirit. Clapping his hands together before him, he focused the Force forward towards where he believed Zeta had been then started parting the snow. He began to make his approach.

"Zeta!", Arkan called out, "I cannot go on just yet. My spirit has waned at this time. I do not feel I may be able to go on. Perhaps the Force is calling me elsewhere, I do not know... but it grows heavy on my heart so strongly, that I may not continue...

"Perhaps it is because of an issue that has plagued me in my journeys. It has come to my attention that each individual has a set perspective on what they feel is polite and just, this perspective was trained into existence because of people and the environment. But because of this, it has considerably hindered my search for knowledge, because along the way, I also must understand the people in this galaxy. Because I am only mortal, I cannot complete this task. Does this mean my mission is futile? Or is this the intention of the Force that I follow?"

Arkan was greeted by silence for exactly five minutes before Zeta responded back to him. When he did finally respond, it was not by way of his lips, but by way of his mind as he reached out to grasp onto Arkan's mind via the force.

Only you know the answer to that, Arkan. I can't bring about a conclusion for you.... However... I do suggest that you take the opportunity to think over the actions you presented today. The force is not your only source of influence. In my opinion, I believe that you would do well to think carefully on how and when you use the force at your will.

If Arkan was not careful, the force would be the death of him; something Zeta could clearly see.

Arkan nodded and continued to reply orally to Zeta, feeling a sudden pull inside his form. His body began to emmit an electrical discharge on its own, no part of his own will but the will of something more.

"Thank you Zeta, you have helped me more than most. I do not know what begins to plague me, but I do not feel we may meet again..."

Kneeling down in the thick snow, Arkan cringed as that pulling inside him started draining his Force energy, sapping him of strength and soul.

"But, you may never know when it comes to the Force. I would rather not depart like this, but I am compelled elsewhere. It is quite a challenge..."

Arkan's eyes emitted a beam of light, piercing the obscuring currents of snow, stretching his arms out to the side as both raw and focused particles of the Force gathered unto his palms. A roar was thrown upon the wind, eclipsing the sound of the storm, and Arkan strained to pull his arms to his chest, enveloping himself in the light of the Force.

Then nothing. In an instant, Arkan was no longer there. Only the imprints of his steps that were quickly fading remained, taken into passing history that perhaps, was never meant to exist. There was no clear reason for Arkan to depart, no reason for him to disappear as he did. But many things in the Force were unexplained, it was perhaps, the faith of those in the Force that kept them in balance and were not put into critical conditions that Arkan had undergone.

Zeta was alone.

Arkan was still there, he could feel it. But in another way, Arkan was not there. An anomaly. There was no sentience the Sith Lord could feel in Arkan's place, just the Force signature that steadily scattered across the churning storms of this world of ice.

Zeta watched Arkan's presence slowly fade away through the blizzard like snow, his gaze locked on directly to where Arkan had been once the Zabrak's presence had vanished. Though gone in appearance, the Sith still felt Arkan.

We will meet again.

It was not just a thought, an assurance. They would cross paths again.

The Zabrak turned his head to look toward his ship, keeping his feet planted firmly in their place. Then he looked back to the many miles of untouched snow that was stretched out before him.

He walked.