The training of Almos Darius

[Indigo]

Almos Darius meditated outside, at the gates of the temple, allowing the familiar feeling that was the cityscape wash over him. It had been one full year since he had been considered completely at terms with who he was. Now, finally, he could begin to move forward once more, now on the path with the Jedi.

He opened his eyes and glanced at what time it was. Training would start in fifteen minutes, and it would take him ten minutes to shake himself and walk to the training room, being a slow walker after sitting for so long. He technically had five minutes, but he decided to go early, in order to make a decent first impression. He rose, using his left hand to steady himself, and began the walk to the designated room.

 

[Trakon]

Osman had been there training earlier, waiting perhaps for a new apprentice.

Either way he was standing there practicing with a training droid, blocking the attacks with his Soresu. When Almos walked int, Osman immediantly deactivated the droid and disengaged his ligthsaber.

"Hello Padawan Almos."

 

[Indigo]

Almos entered, slightly nervous. When his Master said hello, he forgot himself for a moment, his mind going blank. Then he shook the final trappings of sleepy meditation from himself, and bowed to his Master, his back cracking along some of the joints. His head, bowed down, hid his empty face and blue eyes. Quietly, almost imperceptibly, he spoke with reverence a single word.

"Master."

 

[Trakon]

"Knight Osman Pasha, not a master yet." Osman motioned for him to come closer. "I'd like to quesiton on what skills you have so I know which way to best approach your training."

 

[Indigo]

Almos nodded, and rose, standing back to full height, but as soon as he did, he started coughing. He proceeded to cough a few times into the arm of his padawan robes, he wheezing, weak-sounding cough. It only lasted a minute before walking over, as beckoned. As he approached, he once again spoke, quietly, with no real emotion behind his voice.

"Meditating... mental puzzles. That's all."

 

[Trakon]

"How about physically? How fast can you run, what height can you jump, and what is you strength in the Force?"

 

[Indigo]

His eyes flickered at every question, is mind processing them and answering them mentally, working together what he was going to say and how as the questions were asked. It was good that his mind could work fast, because he was still unusued to talking, which required a conscious effort. Once Master Osman Pasha was finished he cleared his throat with a weak cough, then began to speak.

"Physically... Running: medium. Jump height: two feet. The Force? No control. Meditation only."

He wasn't sure if his master knew about his arm, so he decided to mention it before things got underway. He used his left arm to lift the sleeve of his right, revealing the scarring that his think, stick-like arm had sustained.

"Right arm... permanently damaged. Very weak. All I can do... is endure. "

His last sentence was meant to say that despite his lack of physical prowess, he was capable of running for hours, or probably jumping as well.

 

[Trakon]

"Alright. Sounds like you need exercise." He walked over to a small weight about forty punds in total. "Pick it up and use the force to help you lift it."

 

[Indigo]

He nodded, although in his heart he already knew it was impossible. His right hand was completely useless, he couldn't lift more than a couple pounds without aching, as the muscles had never grown in properly. However, he would try, as instructed.

He slipped his left hand under the weight, and tried to lift with all his might. It hardly moved. His left hand didn't have a lot of power behind it either. Sighing, unsure of what to do, he thought about the second half of his master's words. Use the force? He had no idea how to do that. Maybe meditating? Worth a shot... but after a couple moments he realized he didn't know how to change his physical ability with the force, and the result was the same.

 

[Trakon]

Osman stood watching as his padawan could not pick up the weight.

"Close your eyes and think of a river. A river of the Force, it flows around you, gives you strength and speed in all things. Let it flow from you heart through your body into your arm. Let it revitalise your body, giving you strength."

 

[Indigo]

He shut his eyes, focusing on every single element of his master's words.

Think of a river. He had never seen one, having lived his entire life on Corusant, but he had read enough about them, and substituted a river for a shower, hoping it would do. He imagined, then, it was the force, not just drops of water. It was still gentle, and still went everywhere, but not just down. Rather it was everything in itself. It was... amazing. The sudden awareness he felt, was at a deeper level. He felt the atrophied muscles in his arms, knew what to do. He calmed his excitement at the discovery, and tried again. It didn't move, much, but he got it off the ground with his left arm, and could use the right to steady it.

 

[Trakon]

"Set it down." Osman waited till Almos had dropped it on the ground. "How did you feel?" Osman had felt the Force suddenly enlighten him, and wanted to learn what he had felt.

 

[Indigo]

As soon as he was commanded to, he dropped it, letting his arms relax, and allowing himself to flow in the force. It was peaceful, relaxing, and something else he couldn't describe. It was a feeling he had felt strongly once before, and then had faded, but now had surged forward again, in a different way. It took him a minute, but then he could name it.

"Safe."

It was like waking up in the hospital room, being told he would never have to go back.

 

[Trakon]

"Good, very good. You can focus this river to do things, move objects, lift them, and send messages to others nearbye. It is something that should only be used to keep justice not abuse others."

 

[Indigo]

He nodded, hanging off of every word spoken now. This man was completely different than anyone he'd met. He seemed to radiate... something. Even through the force, he could not yet place it, but he would learn through him. Moving objects sounded useful, as did lifting them or sending messages. The line on justice, however, made him pause. It implied there were those who had not, and that to counteract any more from doing so, they had to warn people of it from an early point. He would have to do research into exactly what happened, if only to be wary of those who might use the force in such a manner. For now, though, all he could do was nod and listen for more.

 

[Trakon]

"There are many things to being a Jedi. Keeping in the light, being a sign for justice, and living to save others." Osman breathed a little.

 

[Indigo]

Keeping in the light, being a sign for justice, and living to save others... those words floated through his mind. The first connection was that through the force, what stemmed off Master Osman was light, a natural aura that simmered around him in the force. A symbol of Justice... yes, Almos understood that. He remembered even in his limited human interaction, how people reacted when they heard the word 'Jedi'... it was either of hope for the better, or fear because they were on the other side. And the last one, living to save others... that had been Almos' goal. Live so that others may live better. He felt that concept reside in him, a core tenant he had always held. He nodded once again, more reflectively than the first time, slower, his movement in tune with the flow of the force.

 

[Trakon]

"Now then. Tell me of your past."

 

[Indigo]

He blinked, startled. That had seemed to come out of nowhere, although he expected to be asked about it at some point. He opened his mouth, letting his jaw crack in anticipation for the unusual amount of speaking he was about to do.

"I was... part of an experiment. As a kid. Raised while being taught logic and maths. Put into a room with a problem or puzzle to solve. Starved until I got an answer. Wrong answer meant a shock, right answer meant food. On-"

At this point he began to cough again. He had been kept from any society, so now, as a result he was often very ill, especially earlier on. It was getting better, and all he had was a cough, but it was still troublesome.

"One day I couldn't solve the problem. They labeled me as a failure, and left me there to starve. I ate the flesh off my right arm to survive. Jedi came. Saved me. Went through rehab. Got better. Went through emotional training to become Jedi like one that saved me. Here I am."

He cleared his throat again, wishing for water, and settling for massaging his neck. It was an extremely bare-boned version of his past. He almost never had occasion to speak, especially the first years of his life, and his vocal cords were hideously undeveloped. They worked, but they began to hurt after talking for long periods, so he had no desire to use them more than necessary.

 

[Trakon]

"So I assume that you would need some healing. I suggest you go to the healers everyday after finishing training. It can help." Osman moved a little closer. "Start to jump, and don't forget the 'river'."