Open Yavin IV Cesaro Summability

[Alym Marr]

Alym sat with her legs crossed beneath the shade of a truly gargantuan Massassi tree about a quarter mile from the main Jedi base on Yavin IV. The weather outside was surprisingly temperate, something she was thankful for, and she could even feel the faintest of breezes on her skin, and with it came the scent of jungle orchids.

Several days ago Alym had put the word out that she would be hosting training for any padawans that wished to show up. The loss of Dantooine had shown that the Jedi at large were woefully unprepared to stave off the Sith. They had lost one of the greatest among them in Master Grayza and the two padawans who had been brave enough to stand their ground would carry the trauma they endured there forever.

It was unlikely that any of the padawans that showed up - if any did at all - would know of Alym. Given the nature of her work, she did not spend much time in and around the temples or near the students. As such, her method of training probably wouldn't be familiar to them either and some Jedi might even consider it a bit too... unorthodox, maybe even dangerous.

Things were changing, though, and the Jedi needed to along with it. Plus, given the contents of the long, rectangular box that sat in front of her, Alym had the blessing of Grand Master Voran. Anyone else's opinion on the matter seemed moot.

Alym continued to sit and meditate, most of her focus on the contents of the box. She would wait for awhile for anyone to show, but she would not wait forever.

 

[Issyl Damol]

As part of her routine, Issyl would always wake up early in the morning to explore the jungle. She was studying the plant life on the planet, and kept a journal with her noting her studies. She assumed this has already been done long ago, and she could just easily find a book in the library that contained this knowledge. However she enjoyed the thrill of discovering it on her own, and so she did just that.

On her way back, she noticed a strange figure by a tree. They were about 50 yards away, and Issyl hid behind a tree of her own to watch them. It clicked in her mind that this must have been the person that was offering training the past few days. "Did she just get here?" Issyl thought it was strange that there were no padawans coming to train. In these recent times, a lot of padawans would have jumped at the opportunity to train. "She must be lonely..." Issyl muttered. She didn't really feel like training but she decided to go over anyways.

"Hi there!!" she said cheerfully, jogging over with a basket full of plants and flowers. Issyl decided to put on a little show; she acted like there was sweat on her forehead and wiped it off. "Whew, sorry I'm late. Master... uhhh" Issyl looked down at her own feet and scratched her chin trying to remember the name. "Oh!" she exclaimed while snapping her figure "It was Alime wasn't it! Nice to meet you, I'm Padawan Damol, you can just call me Issyl." She extended her hand out for a high-five and had a bright cheek-to-cheek smile on her face.

@Logan

 

[Elidan]

With him still not having a master, Elidan would seek any opportunity to learn with other Knights and Masters. When a Jedi Knight called Alym Marr announced that she was going to give classes for the Padawans, the half-Sephi became excited with it. He never heard about her before, so he was uncertain if she would be able to understand his sign language. This is why he had brought his Datapad.

While Elidan walked through the jungle, he paid close attention to his surroundings. Since he and Ruzaan had fought the klikniks to save Krift, the boy had become more careful when walking outside of the Temple alone. Thankfully, his Sephi hearing allowed him to identify any noise before it was close to him. If he heard the heavy steps of a group of these insectoid creatures, he would be prepared.

When he reached the place where the class was going to happen, Elidan felt a bit relieved. Now close to a Jedi Knight there were less chances of these creatures appearing. Who he believed to be Knight Marr was sitting cross-legged below a giant tree, probably the largest the half-Sephi ever saw. There was already another Padawan, a human girl, there.

While approaching the two, he noticed that the Knight was wearing a blindfold. This made him stop walking, how was he going to communicate with her? She would not be able to see his sign language or what he wrote in the Datapad. Elidan would need to use something that he disliked, the speaker option of his Datapad. It would reproduce in a robotic voice what he typed. He avoided doing it because the sound of the voice was so annoying. However, it was his only option.

With only this option to communicate, the half-Sephi started to type a message, then activated the speaker option “Hello, my name is Elidan and I have mutism. I came to participate in the lessons.” the Datapad reproduced it with a robotic voice. He hoped that the Knight and the Padawan would not become annoyed with it.


@Logan @Altaria

 

[Severus Creed]

Severus had been without a master for a while now and relished the opportunity to train with a Jedi Knight so that he could one day become a Knight of the Order as well. He had zero expectations as he was just excited to be able to train normally again. Severus had never heard of Alym Marr, but that only spiked his curiosity even further. When he approached her, he realized there was another Padawan accompanying the Jedi Knight, but contrary to Sev's naturally bitter stare, he was only making observations on the newcomer.

He gave a small nod to Alym, "Greetings, Master Marr. I am Severus Creed." The black-clad Padawan introduced himself to the blindfolded Jedi before studying the new Padawan that Sev couldn't remember seeing in the past. Apparently, her name was Issyl, and she appeared to be a human such as himself. Hopefully she wasn't this excited all the time as Sev thought it might be exhausting to be around someone with that much energy, let alone being able to constantly use that energy. Luckily, Severus was accompanied by a familiar face, that being the mute from Chandrila- Elidan. Severus liked how quiet and quant he was. It was calming and allowed Severus to think more clearly and without irritation. He waved at the redhead before standing next to him, "Hello, again."

It had been a hot minute since Severus had been able to attune with the help of a more experienced Jedi to the Force of even his fencing style, which both were practiced by his lonesome. Especially after the loss of Dantooine. Severus thought he had a little more experience than most others his age, but even so, he still wanted to learn and grow in the Force like the plants in his mini greenery in his dorm.

@Logan @Altaris @LouJoVi

 

[Laeonas Tannaras]

Padawan Tannaras.

That’s what Ephiny called him. It was a title— almost formal in how it was spoken. It was one of the many things he’d had to adjust to over the last year and a half, though it was small in comparison to the multitude of other lifestyle changes he’d needed to acclimate to. He’d once thought that the temple was to massive to ever properly explore. Yet after years of constant space travel, juxtaposed against spending most of his days in a single building complex…

Suffice to say, he was beginning to feel caged within the walls of the temple. As a result, the man found himself spending more and more time exploring Yavin IV’s lush wilderness. He wasn’t allowed to wander to far, ofcourse; though even with his cabin fever, he wasn’t much interested in going far. The man had grown up in a duracrete jungle, but Yavin IV’s actual jungle still felt foreign to him. There was a certain beauty to it, but he wasn’t about to tempt fate by venturing into it’s depths. Not yet, anyways.

As such, a daily jog in the morning had become part of the human’s daily routine. The trail was a perfect distance from the temple; enough for him to not feel it’s dominating presence, but not far enough to be uncomfortably distant. He was clad in the very bottom layer of one of his robes; any more would inhibit his jog. Conveniently, a water bottle hung from his belt, clipped in place. His hair was tied up in a bun; not unlike how he’d tied it in his teenage years, though there was significantly more length.

That was the image that the three padawans would see cresting through a thicket of vegetation. Stoppimg near the young man with hair almost as black as his own, Laeonas would unclip the bottle on his belt, emptying half it’s contents down his throat in a single swig. Without a word, the man began stretching, rolling his neck and finishing with a long, drawn out sigh. It was only than that aquamarines would open, and finally take in the image of what was in front of him.

The Padawan stood still for a few moments, contemplating the gathering. That was when he remembered a comment Ephiny had brought up about some additional training a day before. Seeing the blind woman— around his age— and the others— much younger— it didn’t take long to connect the dots. “…oh.” He’d mutter, frowning a bit, before standing up straight and walking forward. “I suppose that I’m a bit late.” He’d add, bowing his head at the woman who was obviously their teacher.

His attention would then be drawn to the rest of the padawans, focusing on each one in quick succession. He didn’t much enjoy the company of the younger students, but he wouldn’t be rude. “Greetings; I don’t think I know… well, any of you. I happen to be called Laeonas.”

​

@Logan @Charles @LouJoVi @Altaria

 

[Alym Marr]

As the force would have it, it didn't take long for young ones to start to arrive. The first was a bubbly teenager Alym had not seen around Yavin before, and the Knight greeted her with the faintest whisper of a smile. Standing to her feet, Alym raised an eyebrow at the mispronunciation of her name. Not an uncommon thing to happen, though it did annoy her slightly every time.

Alym, She said, emphasizing the pronunciation. It is nice to meet you, Padawan Damol. Alym liked to keep things at a distance unless she had a reason not to, so addressing a learner by their first name wasn't something she normally did unless they had none. Which wasn't as uncommon as you would think.

Not wanting the young one to think she was a total stick in the mud, Alym did reciprocate her high five. Though it was hesitant and only slightly awkward. Alym's attention was pulled away from Issyl when another padawan arrived, this one with long red hair. The words that came out of his datapad gave Alym pause, like she was trying to recollect something she knew a long time ago. She could tell that he was uncomfortable using the speech function, and she didn't want for him to be uncomfortable.

When it finally came to her, she smiled at Elidan and used her hands to communicate in sign language. Nice to meet you, Elidan. I'm sorry if my signing is rusty, it's been some time since I've used it.

When the third arrived, Alym nodded towards him and returned his greeting. Good afternoon, Padawan Creed.

And then came the final one, different from all the rest. Alym stared at him silently as he approached, a figure much larger than everyone else around, especially her. One benefit of being a Miraluka, though, is you didn't have to look up to meet anyone's gaze - it's not like eye contact was really a big thing for them. He was also much older and even just a cursory glance at him Alym could tell he had seen much, experienced much that the other padawans had not.

Not to worry, we were only just about to begin. You've arrived just in time.

Turning away from the gaggle of padawans, Alym walked over to the box she had been meditating over before they had arrived. With a wave of her hand, she removed the lid and floated into the air the only object inside: A sword who's blade was darker than the blackest recess of space and inlaid with gold hovered in the air between Alym and the padawans, slowly rotating as its tip was pointed toward the sky.

Darkness, raw and unfiltered, radiated from the weapon in pulses. Each of them would feel it; a distinct coldness, like the snapping harsh air carried by a winter gale, but also something else - a hunger, a craving for death and blood and violence. The sword almost seemingly to reach out and speak to them, tiny and incomprehensible whispers tickling the base of their brainstem.

Can any of you tell me what this is? Alym asked, her eyebrow raising expectantly. If any of these padawans had been doing their homework like they were supposed to, the answer would be quite obvious. She would float the sword back into the box and return the lid.

Before we can begin properly, I want you each to tell me the experiences you've had with the darkside, She said, addressing no one in particular, though it would feel like she'd asked the question to each padawan specifically by the tone of her voice.

And I want you to tell me what is your greatest fear.

@Altaria @LouJoVi @Charles @Tom

 

[Severus Creed]

Severus swallowed hard. He wasn't expecting anything in particular today, but he sure was not expecting the Sword of Revan to appear before him. The black-clad Padawan gazed at the blade with pure curiosity and interest- not in the dark powers it held, but how it came to be in this Jedi's hands. What had she done to hold the weapon? Surely this blindfolded Jedi was much more powerful than the other Knights if she was able to hold a Dark Side imbued weapon without flinching.

The newer Padawan, who was obviously older than Severus and the others, had something strange around him with the Force. He was not like the other brand new Padawans. He was like Severus, in the way he carried a weight of experience with not only the Force but in combat as well. Like Alym, Severus thought that Laeonas was also probably more capable of the others in whatever they were about to delve into for this training assignment.

"That is the Sword of Revan...How did...never mind." Severus wasn't sure if it was appropriate or not on whether he should ask on how the weapon came to be allowed into her hands. She was obviously strong enough to withstand it anyway. "My experiences with the Dark Side..." Severus knew exactly what that was and his mind whirled him away to his past before he was brought up into the Jedi Order. He remembered the hate he felt for his slavers, for his parents that sold him at only four years of age. He remembered using the Dark Side...The memory was as clear as day, the way he felt the man's throat and squeezed until he couldn't muster out a plea for help or for Sev to stop.

Then, he remembered staring into his abuser's eyes and seeing not himself, but a monster. Severus stopped holding on to his throat through the Force and let him gasp for air. The man that had relished in sadistically beating the seven-year-old now looked at the black-hair kid with shock and fear. Severus wanted to cry but couldn't. There was a silent, mutual agreement that there was to be no more sadism.

Severus tried pushing down the anger and sorrow from those memories, instinctively rubbing his arms where he had been branded with the Crimson Dawn crest for every slip-up Severus commenced, pulling the ends of his sleeves up to cover his hands a bit. The quartermaster had run out of room on his back, so they began pressing the heated duranium across his chest, arms, and legs. The main reason why Severus wore long sleeves was because he was incredibly insecure about the marks on his body that would remain with him until he departed into the Force.

No one knew of these marks besides the Grandmaster. No one would ever know the embarrassment Severus felt for having the brands of a slave to a fearsome Crime Syndicate. He hated it. Resented it. But he sheltered these feelings away and held his stoic blank gaze as he stared into the blade that had reminded him of how un-Jedi-like he used to be.

"Hm, I once battled a Sith Champion, if that counts. But it was sheer dumb luck that I ended up as the victor. He slipped. Literally. And as far as fears go...I'd say I'm afraid of...letting down the Order. Not being able to prove myself a Jedi, including to myself as well. It's the fear of being alone, I think. Not of the Dark Side, but that if I used it, I'd be cast out from my only home and family." Severus tried to keep it clear and concise.

@Logan @LouJoVi @Tom @Altaria

 

[Xiann]

Xiann quick stepped through the forest to the point the message had indicated. She was running late thanks to one of the droids deciding to practically explode and cover her in oil and grease. She continuously kept trying to scrub the muck and grime off of her clothes with minimal effect and though had managed to remove most of it from her skin before leaving, her apparel left much to be desired. The only clean things on her were her blasters and lightsaber that she hasd picked up after the fact. The message didn’t say what type of training this would be, so it was best to go prepared.

The Twi’lek was so concerned with not looking like she’d rolled in from some refugee camp that she didn’t notice she was practically at the point already, her gaze only snapping upwards when she heard the Knights voice asking about the darkside and greatest fear. She quickly stepped to join the group as one of the other padawans spoke up and talked about letting down the order. While he spoke she thought of her own answer and waited until he finished before she spoke up, “Sorry for being late Master…” She paused for a few seconds as she wracked her brain for a name, “Marr.” She bowed her head to the knight and saw how dirty her clothes were and raised her head, “I had mechanical troubles.” She let out a nervous smile hoping not to be scolded too badly.

Xiann cleared her throat as she regained at least a small amount of composure, “As for darkside and fears. I did run into a group of ssss…” The word was still hard for her to say, but she forced her way through it, “Sith. I didn’t fight them or anything, I tried to run straight away. I managed, but not without a cost.” She gestured to the scar over her right eye and the several that could be seen on her stomach. Scars she had come to realise were the smallest part of the toll she had payed for going where she shouldn’t. “And I fear more people dying simply because I was not prepared for what I stepped into. Again.”

@Logan @LouJoVi @Tom @Altaria @Charles

 

[Elidan]

Elidan smiled when Alym signed to him. Knowing that she could use sign language, made him less uncomfortable. The half-Sephi really hated to use the speaker option of his Datapad.

Then Severus arrived and greeted him. Elidan smiled and waved to the other boy. After their interaction during the beach party on Chandrila, the half-Sephi concluded that the other boy wasn't mean and what happened with Clove was a misunderstanding. Due to that, he felt more comfortable around him now.

Before Master Marr could start the class, another Padawan arrived. Well, at least Elidan thought that he was a Padawan. The person, who was named Laeonas, seemed to be older than the half-Sephi and the other Padawans that were there. The boy suspected that he could even be older than Alym.

As he didn't remember seeing the man before, Elidan concluded that Laeonas probably joined the Order recently. The half-Sephi wondered if the dark-haired man already had a Master.

Then Alym decided to start the lesson. Elidan watched the Miralukan use the Force to open a box and to make a sword that was inside it start to float. The half-Sephi could feel the Dark side profusely coming from it. He knew this weapon, it was the Sword of Revan. Forged and used by Darth Revan centuries ago.

Elidan was going to answer it, but Severus was faster than him. Sometimes the half-Selphi disliked how slow he was with sign language if compared to someone using their voice.

The other questions that Alym asked made him become nervous again. He wasn't sure how to tell the others about his experiences with the Dark side. Elidan avoided even remembering it. His greatest fear was also something that made him uncomfortable talking about, since it was related to his first meeting with the Sith. By now, the point of his ears would be twitching, showing his discomfort to everyone that could notice that.

Before he could answer, another Padawan arrived. She was a Twi'lek called Xian. After she finished exposing her experience with the Dark side and her greatest fear, Elidan decided that he should do that now, rather than delay the inevitable.

Taking a deep breath, Elidan started to sign with shaking hands. "My experiences with the Dark side. I only had one, it was when I was a youngling on Ajan Kloss." he stopped, trying to not allow the memories of the event to return to his mind "I watched the Sith kill my friends without being able to do anything to help them. I was in shock when it happened. My greatest fear is of that happening again. I fear losing people because I can do nothing to save them." he finished signing, satisfied with himself for not crying this time. Maybe he was really starting to overcome this trauma. Asadra would be proud.


@Logan @Tom @Altaria @Charles @Xian

 

[Issyl Damol]

Other interesting faces were arriving. Issyl was a bit shocked to see the red-haired man communicate with a datapad, but she recalled someone telling her about a mute padawan. Issyl felt bad for not knowing sign language, but happily waved with a smile. The next padawan arrived and Issyl waved at him aswell; she felt rather awkward that he was observing her though.

Issyl had no idea what the sword was, but she felt uncomfortable being near it. There was only a few months of experience under her belt, so there was still much to learn. Padawan Creed seemed to know about the sword, and his story was relatable. It was scary to be alone. He clearly had some experience under his belt. The Twi'lek that arrived late also seemed to have some experience. Issyl has never met a Sith yet, and couldn't imagine what she would do if confronted by one.

Since she didn't know sign language, Issyl had no clue what Elidan said. However, she assumed it was something along the lines of the other two. Sadness filled her watching his hands shake. Issyl would make a mental note to begin learning how to sign; although he had a datapad he could translate with, Issyl felt inclined to learn it anyways.

After he went, Issyl decided to speak up next. "My greatest fear is to hurt people. I don't know if it was the dark side or just lack of experience, but I hurt some with this power that we have all been gifted with. The expression of those who are in pain is hard for me to look at. I want to learn more of and become stronger in the force, so that I won't ever hurt someone again, especially on accident."

Her fear felt tame compared to the others. If anything, Issyl gained a near fear: fearing that the others might look down at her for not facing the same troubles as them. She could understand why they might do so. While she chose to be a pacifist, others were risking their lives to fight the Sith.

@Logan @Charles @Xian @Tom @LouJoVi

 

[Laeonas Tannaras]

Laeonas hadn't actually felt any guilt in regards to being late, but it was a relief that the knight was as understanding as she was. The last thing he wanted to do was leave a bad first impression on a teacher who could provide him with valuable insights into the force. How she actually thought of him was a mystery; he struggled to read any facial expressions she had, due to a lack of eye contact. He didn't exactly blend in well with the rest, with the only one of a similar height and build being the mute, pointy eared ginger. The man just chose to return her acknowledgement with a respectful nod, and await any further instruction.

When she drew the blade from her box, Laeonas' heart skipped a beat. The blade she held was unlike any he'd seen before, lacking any curvature and masterfully gilded. It's hilt reminded him more of a piece of fine jewelry rather than part of a weapon, with patterns not even his jeweler of a grandfather could hope to match. The blade was as black-- no, blacker-- than his own hair. Some might have found it beautiful, and in a way, it undeniably was so. It was clearly the work of a master; thousands of hours had more than likely been poured into it.

Yet all the padawan could feel as he looked at it was pure disgust. It radiated the same wrong that he'd had an uncomfortably high amount of experience with. Whenever he'd choked out someone he hated, beat a man who'd wronged him, or the day he'd tried to kill a Sith-- and failed-- that same cold, crawling, whispering feeling tore into him. But never in his life had he felt it so concentrated in an object. How stooped in evil was the one who'd forged it? How much fear, pain and hatred had it taken to imbue the weapon with it's aura and power?

These were questions that Laeonas probably wouldn't get an answer to. He should've known them, as the knight seemed to indicate, but this had been one artifact he hadn't done his research on. Between diction lessons, lightsaber training, meditation and his hours of being a gym rat, obscure dark side artifacts weren't on his radar. He'd opened his mouth to answer-- even though he didn't produce one-- when the boy with a scar across his face mentioned it by name. "Uh... yeah, the sword of Revan. Made by the Sith named Revan." He'd add, lips pursed.

"...okay, I don't actually know what that is, but it's... well, it's blood evil, I can tell that much." He'd add, fessing up to the shoddy answer. Honesty was something the man was working on, as all could tell. The follow up request felt directly pointed at him, and the man frowned ever so slightly. Had he already managed to displease the knight? "That'd be a new record, ya karkin' fool." The Brentaalan thought.

Laeonas would make a point of listening to all the others, remaining silent as each one spoke. Each one he'd listen to, with the scarred padawan's stories of war, and the late twi'lek's close encounter with the Sith leaving him surprised. The life day elf didn't "say" anything, but signed it; something that Laeonas hadn't actually learned yet. The last one to speak-- the girl with a bow in her hair-- moved past the question entirely. The man stood there, taking even longer to answer.

"Um... well, I'm... a bit surprised." He'd begin, staring at a nearbye rock. "I... didn't even leave my homeworld until I was 18, but it seems all of you have already experienced a whole host of horrors." He'd add in a tone that expressed a degree of sympathy that he'd struggled to show before. "Mae-- my first encounter with the wro-- dark side... well, I was probably twelve, thirteen maybe." He'd say, now looking up in the air as he tried to remember exact details. "These kids from a ri- a gang, decided they'd beat tha shi- hell out of me. I decided th'at Ai-- I'd fight back."

The man was struggling to maintain his diction as he spoke, audibly slipping into a heavier accent every few words, as well as correcting himself when he let slip a detail the others didn't need to know. "I... well, I choked every single one of them until they dropped half dead." He'd confess, avoiding eye contact with the others. "Other times I'd get into fights and I'd just keep hitting people once they were down." He'd continue, squinting a little.

The last thing he wanted to talk about was... well, anytihng that came after that. Be it the time on Mataou when he'd temporarily gone mad while fighting some infected nexu, or when he'd shot at escaping slaves for luring him there, or when he'd left a Sith to die to steal all the loot and her lightsaber, than fought a Sith, nearly died, met the grandmaster, been assumed to be a Sith, gone to Firrerre, fully lost his mind-- the man cut off his train of thought right there. It'd take far to long, and he really didn't want to tell all these judgmental padawans about how much of an asshole he was.

"...I'm not a very nice person." He finished, leaving it there. "Mae-- my worst fears are either death, or, well, being an even worse person." He'd say, adding, "I've... seen what the Sith do. I've met a few, and without exception they've all been insane, murderous bastards." He'd finish, before pausing. "...maybe they're not all like that, but they're sure as shit way worse people than anyone here." The human declared. "...unless you guys also skin people for lightsaber hilts. I mean, I've been 'ere fer-- for nearly two years, and I haven't seen that, but still."

​

@Logan @Charles @LouJoVi @Altaria @Xian

 

[Alym Marr]

Alym remained quiet as each of the padawans took their turn to answer her question. She was proud of Severus, that he knew the item that she had shown them, though Alym suspected some others might also know but were just not quick enough on the draw.

There were numerous common threads that tied these padawans together, their stories made that much very clear. Though, the one that surprised Alym the most was that more than one of them thought they could only tell a portion of the truth and she wouldn't notice. Moreover, that lying or burying their fears would somehow lessen them or make them more bearable.

Alym didn't blame them, it was a wish everyone had; that they could take the dark and bad things from the past and stuff them into a box, bury them so thoroughly and so deeply that you could pretend they didn't exist. But it was a child's wish, a fool's wish, and that in and of itself was a very valuable lesson to learn.

Take note of the stories your fellow padawans tell, Alym started, her tone notably cool. Alym looked at no one in particular when she spoke, a bad habit she was told. Find the thread that ties each of you together, no matter how different from one another you think you might be. There is strength in that solidarity, in knowing that no matter what you go through, you have not and do not have to go through it alone. You can call upon it when all around you there is nothing but darkness.

Alym paused for a moment, considering her next words carefully. She didn't want to frighten them, but she wasn't going to lie either. And make no mistake, that time will come for each of you at some point or another. Such is the life of a Jedi, the life that each of you have chosen and continue to choose every single day.

Folding her arms behind her back, Alym looked towards each of the padawans before her. She remembered what it was like to be them, unweathered and new. The life of a Jedi was not an easy one to follow, but they would all learn that lesson in their own time. Or they wouldn't and the creeping dark would come to claim them like so many before.

With a small movement of her head, Alym raised the sword from its home once again, letting it hover between her and the padawans. The darkside seemed to crackle and hiss in the air around it, almost like the sword itself was offended to be in the vicinity of so many Jedi.

I want each of you, one at a time, to approach the sword and hold it in your hand. To understand your fears, to move past them, to grow into the Jedi I know each of you can be, you must confront them head on. Face your fears, conquer them, and emerge on the other side. The more you try to hide from them, to brush them away, to bury them, the more power you give them.

Approaching the sword herself, Alym gripped it tightly. The padawans would feel a ripple in the force go over them, harsh and angry and dark. An illusion would appear before them, a galaxy in turmoil, planets burning, lives destroyed. A vision of Alym's greatest fear: that the Jedi would fail in their mission against the Sith and leave the galaxy and everyone inside of it at the mercy of pure evil.

For a few seconds, each of them would feel the helpless despair Alym felt when her mind wandered to these dark thoughts. It would press on them, but just when it would feel like to much, it would begin to recede, almost like it was being pushed back by something much stronger than it: a feeling of hope.

Hope that as long as a single Jedi stood defiant in the face of evil that the Sith would never win. Hope in the lightside of the force, that it would always prevail over the dark. And most importantly, hope in ones self.

The force swirled around Alym as she projected those feelings against the illusion, until it was dispelled completely and dissipated like shattering a pane of glass. She released her hand from the sword and stepped back, leaving it hovering in the air like it was before.

Touching the sword will show you your greatest fear, She said, her tone serious. I do not expect anyone here to succeed in facing what it shows you on the first try, but it is possible. If you find that it is too much, simply release your grip and the illusion will fade.

Her eyeless gaze would move over each of them, her expression stoic and unreadable.

This is the first step in understanding yourself, and when you can do that, you can truly understand what it means to be a Jedi.

@Altaria @LouJoVi @Charles @Tom

 

[Severus Creed]

Severus flinched when he felt the Dark Side fester itself before him, showing him visions of what seemed to be Alym's fears. A galaxy under power by the Sith. He could feel the weight of guilt and fear she carried and it almost brought him to his knees, but before it was too unbearable, something began lifting the weight off of him. It was...still Master Marr! Her hope began to cast the fear into a fiery determination that filled Severus with warmth. Then it was gone, and Alym had asked for the others to touch the sword one at a time.

Severus's fears grew more and more as he stared at the blade, his body aching to just get the inevitable hell over with, but his body was frozen in place unable to move. He knew what he was afraid of...but something told him he was going to see far worse things that he had pushed down for so long and he wasn't sure if he was ready for the others to tap into his private life. Then, the thought of Alym's hope had come to him like whisper- no doubt given to him through the Force.

Alym was right, if Severus didn't do this and learn to open himself up, then his fear of being alone would surely come true. It made logical sense to the brainy kid. If no one knew what you were struggling with...then how were you going to expect anyone to be able to help you through tough times? Severus had the feeling that these other Padawans were about to be very closely acquainted with one another- Master Marr included.

His hands quivered as he hesitantly reached for the hilt of the sword, it's cold darkness begging him to wield the blade and never let go. He was going to conquer it. Conquer his fear. Feel his fear. Be without it, hopefully. But if hope had stopped Alym's fear, then maybe it would help with his own.

"Wish me luck." Sev said sheepishly to Elidan- the poor kid had experienced so much at such a young age, like Severus. Sev's feelings of admiration for the red-head only increased. They were much similar than he had first thought. Then there was Laeonas, who was by far braver than Severus could ever be. He was so...open about everything and Severus was almost jealous of that. His respect for the older pupil grew, and he gave the fellow Padawan a respectful nod before he proceeded.

When he gripped the blade, he shut his eyes, expecting to feel the pain of the permanent brands on his back, but no pain followed. When he opened his eyes, he was not holding the sword, but a red bladed lightsaber- the same lightsaber he had claimed from the Sith warrior he defeated on Taris. "TRAITOR!" Screamed a familiar voice coming from behind him, and Severus's instincts as a dueler fell into place, turning around to block the attack that came from...Jacata Lurel. Red and blue clashed together as the two dueled on a the cliffside of Yavin IV. Severus was only confused, hurt, and filled to the brim with anguish that his first and best friend was trying to kill him. "YOU...You killed her! She trusted you! YOU LOOKED HER IN THE EYES...AND YOU KILLED HER." Jacata pushed off from the attack, and Severus looked to his side.
He fell down to his knees, deactivating the saber as he gazed at the limp body of Grandmaster Alexandria Voran, sitting in a pool of her own blood. Before Severus could do anything, Jacata forced him over the cliffside. His best friend...His brother...had forsaken him to speak with Death.

Severus closed his eyes as he braced himself for impact, but he didn't ever hit the ground. He opened his eyes again, but this time he was staring into the fat basilisk torturer who had been finished waterboarding Severus after he refused to use his Force powers again in front of the Syndicate leader. Severus was so angry, his blood boiled with rage as he clenched his fists, choking the four armed lizard bastard with the Force. Then, like when he was little- guilt and regret ripped at his chest and he stopped choking the lizard- but when he did, a hot metal stuck to his side. Severus screamed out in agony. "Again." The animalistic voice told Severus, but the black haired boy shook his head. The metal struck his side again, this time hotter than every before. Severus cried out again, tears of blood streaming down his cheeks as he begged his captor to, "LEAVE ME BE. I will NOT become the monster...Please! I beg you!" But the brand came back down on his skin like it always did.

The monster inside him howled with rage, he wanted to die and let the beast rip itself out of his skin and wreck havoc on the damn bastards who poked and prodded at him like he was a caged beast apart of a zoo.

His parents stood in front of him, and then decided to walk away as if they had no idea who the boy was they were leaving behind. They were walking towards riches, wealth, and popularity, ignoring Severus's pleas for help as he screamed bloody murder every time the brand touched his skin.

Severus gathered his strength stood up and ran- he didn't stop running either, running, and running, until he was back in the temple. He was without his shirt, and in his underwear. He felt vulnerable, but when he turned to go to his dorm, all the Jedi seemed to be waiting for him. They all stared at him in horror and shock or laughed at him out of pity and embarrassment.

He was alone- surrounded by fellow Jedi, but all alone. Exposed.

The brands of the Crimson Dawn crest all over his body began to glow red as he tried pushing his way through the crowd to which they began elbowing and kneeing him. Eventually, a knee caught his stomach, given to him by the echani, Thelian, and fell to the ground, wheezing and gasping for air. Other's spat at him, calling him a Sith, and a Jedi-wannabe. The monster inside roared, ready to rip the throats out of every single one of these putrid insolent little motherfu-

Severus inhaled...he focused on his sharp breathing...he imagined his friends again. His family...His home...He wasn't alone. His lightsaber hummed at his side comfortingly- his one companion that had been through everything with him and understood him better than anyone...Jacata, Alex, Elidan, Zana, Varyn, the Force- they all were his family. They were his home.
He didn't stop repeating their names.

The Force would never give him up.

Jacata, Alex, Elidan, Zana, Varyn, the Force...

He would never give the Force up.

Jacata, Alex, Elidan, Zana, Varyn, the Force...

He would never give his Family up.

Jacata, Alex, Elidan, Zana, Varyn, the Force...

He would never give his Home up.

Jacata, Alex, Elidan, Zana, Varyn, the Force...

He would never give up becoming a Jedi.

Jacata. Alex. Elidan. Zana. Varyn. The Force!

"Hey! Sev! What are you doing on the ground, you weirdo?" A familiar voice called, offering a familiar green hand to pull him to his feet.

Severus took it. "Cool tats, by the way- We should get matching ones!" Severus laughed at Jacata's good-humored joke and they both embraced in a tight brotherly hug.

When the black-clad Padawan opened up his eyes for the last time, he was right back in reality. He sighed happily as he stared at the sword which grew colder and madder with rage as he held onto it. He bested it. He remembered who he was. He was not a bad guy.

He was Severus Creed, an aspiring Jedi Master, and with the help of his family and the Order, that goal would be an ultimatum, no doubt.

@Logan @Tom @LouJoVi @Altaria

 

[Xiann]

Xiann stood and listened to the other padawans tell their tales and explain their fears. They all seemed to be vaguely similar, referencing either hurting others or being unable to stop them from being hurt. It would seem her fears were not as uncommon as she would have thought with the other padawans. She did notice that one of the others used signs to communicate his thoughts. Was he Deaf? Or maybe just mute? She only had a rudimentary grasp of Sign language, enough to get the gist of what he was saying, but not enough to understand every word.

Their teacher used the Force to float a sword in front of the group, it seemed to be emanating faint hissing. Sometimes it sounded like whispering, sometimes just white noise but either way it felt… wrong. It felt like that day on Ajan Kloss had been forged into a blade. Despite how uneasy it made her feel, it was just a simple sword right? It didn’t appear to have any sort of visible power source, so it wasn’t going to spark up like a lightsaber. She wondered what it was that seemed to instill fear in the others rather than just the unease that she felt. Her question was soon answered.

When Master Marr took hold of the blade the image of the galaxy appeared, it was in a shambles. She was hit with a wave of dread, anger, despair. The Twi’lek recoiled slightly. Not front he feelings themselves, but the confusion of having them. The galaxy was in a state barely above anarchy, but this is how she had always envisioned the galaxy. This is what all the stories she heard growing up told the galaxy was like, so why did she feel this way from seeing what she already believed? Were these the knight’s feelings? Was this her fear? That the galaxy was the way it is? Then as suddenly as the wave of feelings came a second hit, this one a more positive feeling. She couldn’t quite name it, just that it was powerful enough to sweep away the despair and seemingly shatter the image.

Then came the turn of the padawans, of the one that was speaking as she arrived. She racked her brain for his name, she remembered seeing his Id in the database when she was looking through the other padawans but just couldn’t quite recall his name. The image he cast was much darker, and much more personal. The Twi’lek felt the wave of anger and fear and despair flow across her from the ongoing tale, but she couldn’t help but feel sorry for him. To have something so personal be thrown out into the open in front of relative strangers. Her mind wandered to what her story would tell. The story of her meeting with the sith on Ajan Kloss. Though she thought pretty much every padawan would know the story. It was that day that was one of the major factors in the rule about padawans not being allowed off-world without supervision after all.

Xiann’s mind came back to the lesson as the man in front began to chant names, they seemed to give him strength and rouse him from his despair until his image shattered too. She waited for him to step back with the others and after a light pause stepped forward, “Well, might as well tear of the bandage quickly I guess.” She reached for the handle of the sword, pausing just before it. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, preparing herself to relive the day she met the Sith for the first time. When she was ready she closed her hand around it.

She expected to be hit with something. Sparks, fear, general negativity but there was nothing. The Twi’lek opened her eyes ready to stare down that black mask but instead was met with something much worse. In the place she expected the almighty sith to be standing, it was her elder siblings. Her brother stood in his thick metal armour and her sister in a beautiful purple dress. They both looked down on her with disdain and disgust. Without a word her brother placed on his helmet, turned and walked away. Xiann could feel a well of hatred begin to build up inside her, she opened her mouth to speak but before she could say anything, her sister followed suit. Simply turning and leaving her alone. As the images walked away and twisted into dissipating smoke, the anger simmered down and was replaced with an overwhelming feeling of being alone and sadness. The smoke reformed around her into an image everyone present would recognise, the landing area near the hanger of the Yavin IV Temple. The ship in front of them contained a Nautolan padawan and Ithorian knight who, after barely sparing the young Twi’lek a glance steadily flew away, leaving her on the pad alone once again.

The smoke morphed once more, this time into faces that would be familiar to them all. Other padawans. Drastus and Galania, the first friends she had made when coming to the temple. They were smiling and laughing, that is until they saw Xiann. Their faces dropped as they eyed her up and down. Drastus was the first to move, his helmet appearing in his hands as he put it on and walked past her, Galania shook her head in disapproval of the Twi’lek before she ran to catch up with Drastus, wrapping around his arms as they left. She watched the pair pop into smoke as tears began to well up in her eyes. As the woman tried to blink them away, the smoke took the form of Clove. Xiann for a moment felt a light in the dark. The Selphi’s smile like a candle in the dark basement. She let herself smile back until Clove’s smile faded, taking the light with it. As she turned to leave the Twi’lek reached out, letting go of the sword, “No. Clo. Please, don’t…” The image faded back into nothing, returning her to the the group.

Xiann slowly dropped her hand back to her side and her head lowered as she stared at the ground. She seemed to shrink, to recoil into herself as she took a few steps backwards, back to her palace in the group. She had been expecting the sword to show her the sith, she had prepared herself for the sith. But the sword had tapped into a wound far older, one so buried beneath the surface even she had forgotten about it. Even when she had returned to her spot, she didn’t look back up, her gaze was fixated on the grass beneath them. She couldn’t bring herself to look up, to look at the others.

@Logan @Charles @LouJoVi @Tom @Altaria

 

[Laeonas Tannaras]

As painful as it had been for him to open up, the knight's words helped, if only a little bit. There was comfort in the knowledge that he hadn't been the only one to go through such awful experiences. He'd always known that there were those with a lot in life not to dissimilar to his own; everyone he'd gotten to know back home had lived in the same slums that he'd grown up in. Over his years of travel, however, there'd only been a few he'd actually opened up to. That all these people-- these "fellow Jedi" had listened to his words, and shared similar experiences to himself... it was comforting.

Her follow up line might have been ominous or foreboding to some, but it didn't instill much fear in the man-- not much, anyway. His fear of the dark side was one from within, not from without. That fear had long since been turned into anger, and it took all the limited training he'd had so far for it to not boil to hatred. Laeonas didn't know what would happen the next time he stood before the Sith, but he had hopes. Hope that he'd be alive by the end, and that at the very least, that the person in question would be brought down a peg.

The man looked over at the night, silently appraising each one of them. When the blade and it’s evil power approached, he’d frown, uncomfortable around it. That made the knight’s next request all the more unappealing. To even be in this thing’s general vicinity was taxing, but to touch it, knowing what would come next? Laeonas felt the temptation to leave, to turn around. He’d face the dark side one day, not here. Not like this.

But it didn’t take much for him to understand the point of this lesson, or internalize it’s meaning. “if ya can’t even touch a sword, ‘ow tha kark d’ya plan on fightin’ tha Sith?” The man asked himself. Confronting the dark side was something he’d done before. As a Jedi— a title that still felt so odd to him— it would be something he’d have to do for the rest of his life. He noted the nod that had come from the scarred boy; a bout of encouragement that finally pushed through what was left of his fear.

And so, his hand wrapped around the black steel of the blade, and he sunk into his own mind.

Brentaal’s arid surface hung bellow him. The bridge of the capital ship showed a surface that barely showed signs of a natural ecosystem, but for small patches of green along the few consistent bodies of water on the planet. The most prominent displays of life were those that were artificial; swathes of land covered in duracrete and durasteel, millions of lives all bundled together.

He could sense seventy seven billion people. A sum that dwarfed most worlds on the rim, yet was nothing compared to the ecumenopoli further into the core. He’d been born here; born to his mother, who still lived in the capital city directly below them. Thoughts of her were the only thing that made this world shine, justified why he put up with it’s stench when he visited. That, and the promise he’d made to build them a castle one day.

But he wasn’t thinking of his mother, or castles. All that boiled in his heart was hatred. There were faceless figures all around him, operating controls, preparing for something. In his heart, he knew what he was about to do. The man standing on that bridge was him; twisted in ways he’d only imagined in his worst nightmares. His skin lacked any pigmentation, a sickly, corpse like grey, while amber eyes burned with a glow that raged like an inferno.

The banners of the Sith hung in that bridge, and in it was a dark lord. A dark lord consumed by hatred, corrupted by the dark side, who had come to do as the Sith did to any world, for any reason. As had been done to him, he would do to this world of billions. Lives innocent and guilty would all burn in a raging inferno.

His fear wasn’t to dissimilar from the knight’s. The Sith had conquered the galaxy, bringing evil and destruction to every corner of creation. Here though stood one of it’s architects, in the worst possible scenario for himself, and all that lived. There was no hope in such a doomed universe; not for him. Not for a man capable of such atrocities.

The man he was screamed. He threw himself backwards, even as the image of the man he hoped he never would be turned all he loved to ash. As the images of Firrerre flared in his mind, and as the images of his own home reduced to rubble played, there was the burning of those same eyes that seared into his soul. The others might have been able to pull away from their fears, overcome them— if only for a moment. But the man, older than all the others, who’d arguably witnessed the worst of what the galaxy had to offer, could not. Not now, not yet.

His only hope— the only shred that he could pull from the terror as his trembling hand broke from the sword— was that the man he could become never would.

​

@Logan @Charles @LouJoVi @Altaria @Xian

 

[Issyl Damol]

It was frightening to watch the others go before her. Issyl could sense their fears as if they were being communicated to her. Her arms would have goosebumps all over, and she started to shiver. It was suppose to be warm and humid outside, but the dark side surrounding the blade made it feel much cooler.

The first padawan, Severus, seemed to have conquered his fear after he let go of the sword. The Twi'lek however, seemed to have struggled a bit more. Issyl tried to get a glimpse of the girl's face and wanted to approach her, but she decided it wasn't a good time to do so. All she could do was mutter a few words "You did great." Issyl was unsure how the the last padawan did; she noticed his hand was trembling as he let go, but there wasn't an expression on his face.

As she approached the sword, Issyl had an idea of what to expect, but it made the moment even scarier. She didn't like touching weapons at all, but gave this an exception since it was merely to test one's mind. Just like the first two padawans, Issyl closed her eyes and reached out towards the sword with both hands. Once it was in her grasp, her body entered a strange relaxing state. At first she thought nothing happened, until she opened her eyes. Fire burned down the houses of her village, and the screams of death ringed in her ears.

Suddenly, something grabbed a hold of Issyl's legs. She looked down to see the young boy she had once tried to help a long time ago, but the leg she once tried to heal was completely missing. "WHY DID YOU DO THIS TO ME? IT HURTSS!" he screeched with tears pouring out of his eyes. A man came running out of one of the burning houses, covered in blood and ash. Issyl recognized the man to be the boy's father. He quickly came over to Issyl with an angry expression "This is all your fault! YOU did this!" Many hands started bursting through the ground, climbing their way out. They were the people of her village, and they started to surround her chanting: "We don't want you here!", "Get out of here jedi!", and "You did this!"

Overwhelmed, Issyl used the force to shove them all away, then fled into the burning forest. She ran for what felt like hours, her lungs and eyes burned. In the distance she could still hear the village people yelling, no matter how far she ran. Eventually she stumbled upon an ikopi grazing in the burning forest. "Get out of here it's dangerous" she yelled to the animal. It stopped grazing to look at her, but continued on. It didn't seem to care about what was happening around it. As she approached the animal, Issyl tried to shoo it away so it would run, but it ignored everything she did. "How can you eat at a time like this?! Don't you see what's happening aro-" Issyl stopped and looked back at where she came from. The voices of the village people were gone. She swiftly turned back to face the Ikopi, but to her surprise, the forest was no longer burning.

The ikopi began walking away, and Issyl followed it. She walked through the forest, but every so often she turned around in fear of the village people catching her. However every time she turned, all she saw was the burning forest. Whenever she turned back around, the forest was back to it's green lush state. They walked and walked until they reached an opening in the forest. In the center was a stone pedestal, and Issyl ran towards it. On the pedestal was her necklace. She put it on and turned around to see the Ikopi, but when she did, the ikopi would stomp the ground and make an angry noise. Worried it would attack her, Issyl turned around and began to run away, but stopped soon after. The ikopi didn't chase her.

Issyl turned around again, and the Ikopi repeated the same action. This sequence repeated a couple times, and until Issyl realized to keep her back turned toward the creature. "What do you want me to do when I can't turn back around?" she called out to the animal. The realization quickly came to Issyl: she feared her past mistakes. Every time she turned around there was danger. The ikopi always walked forward, regardless of the danger that was surrounding it.

Hesitating, Issyl finally began to walk forward towards a cave. As she approached, she heard the voice of her parents behind her saying "Good luck." The ikopi was her parents; it lead her to the necklace they gave, and was guiding her to the next step. The necklace she wears was a sign that they would always be with her, and guide her through her troubles. Issyl wanted to turn around to see her parents, but knew she couldn't. She had to move on. Tears rolled down her face as she entered the cave and didn't look back.

Upon opening her eyes, Issyl quickly looked around her surroundings. The forest wasn't on fire, and everything was the same as just before she grabbed onto the sword. She looked at Master Marr and smiled. Instead of turning around and returning to her spot, she simply walked backwards. While she was still felt like remaining a pacifist, Issyl felt relieved that she had started to move on from that day. "I'll come and visit soon." she thought to herself.

@Logan @Charles @LouJoVi @Xian @Tom

 

[Elidan]

Hearing the others made Elidan notice that all of them seemed to have had similar experiences. This made him feel a connection with them, maybe the others could understand what he suffered and why he developed selective mutism.

Then Master Marr once again used the Force to take the Sword of Revan from the box. The anger and Darkness that came from it, made Elidan uncomfortable. These sensations reminded him of what he felt coming from the Sith Acolytes while they slaughtered his friends on Ajan Kloss.

Her explanation about what they would see if they touched the sword, made Elidan become pale while his ears flattened. He would need to face his greatest fear, the boy was unsure if he would be capable of doing it. Since the half-Sephi was eleven, he had therapy sessions to talk about it and this still was a difficult topic for him.

When Alym touched the sword, Elidan could feel the despair and guilt that came from her. Then came the vision of her greatest fear: the Galaxy under the control of the Sith. This was terrible, the Jedi Order failed and the Darkness had covered the Galaxy. The half-Sephi wanted to run away, to not be forced to see it anymore.

However, he felt something good coming through the Force, slowly piercing the Darkness of the ilusion. It was hope. Then the images disappeared and they were back in the forest. Master Marr had used her hope to defeat the dark vision created by the Sword of Revan. Elidan was amazed, she really was a powerful Jedi.

The first Padawan that touched the Sword was Severus. Elidan nodded, trying to be supportive, when the dark-haired boy talked with him. Thankfully, Sev seemed to have been successful and defeated the illusions created by it. The half-Sephi was happy for him.

While he watched the other Padawans touching the Sword, Elidan was overwhelmed by nervousness and fear. His hands were cold and his ears had flattened the maximum possible for a half-Sephi. The anxiety that the moment was coming was killing him.

Then his turn had come, Elidan took a deep breath and walked toward the Sword of Revan. In each step he could feel its oppressive aura increasing. With shaking hands, the half-Sephi held the sword's hilt. Suddenly, he was a child back in Ajan Kloss, walking with his friends through the corridors of the Temple toward the shuttle that would help them escape to Yavin IV.

Soon the panic started, the younglings around him started to scream, while a maniac laugh sounded through the corridors. A dark form, with golden eyes and a red blade on their hands was using it to cut through the younglings, while Elidan could only watch in fear. The creature had killed all the children, leaving a pile of bodies on the floor. Now they were staring directly at the paralyzed half-Sephi.

When Elidan looked at the corpses, he didn't see his childhood friends. They were replaced by the Padawans that he met recently. Zana, Severus, Clove, Ruzaan and even Thelian. All of them were dead, their bodies full of burned cuts from the lightsaber of the creature.

Then he heard Zana's voice "Why didn't you help us?" her corpse started to move and crawl toward him. "You should have saved us!" now Severus was the one talking now. Elidan could see his face contorted in anger, while he looked at him with dead eyes.

The half-Sephi wanted to run away, but his dead friends, and Thelian, were now holding his legs. "You watched us die! I hate you!" Ruzaan said. It was painful, he should have helped them. Elidan should have done something and not stayed paralyzed, watching all of them die. By this point, the boy was crying profusely.

"Why do you live while we are dead? It isn’t fair!" Clove's corpse said. This was the question that haunted him for a long time. He was with the group that was killed in Ajan Kloss, but he survived while everyone else died. Elidan always felt that he should have died on this day too.

"Now we will correct it!" the Shadow creature finally said. They were laughing this entire time and now were slowly walking toward him, with his red saber pointed toward his chest. Elidan stopped trying to run away, accepting what should have happened years ago. While it happened in his vision, the half-Sephi would be slowly moving the Sword of Revan with his shaken hands. Soon the point of the sword was touching his chest. Everyone around him would be able to see how the boy seemed to be going to plunge the blade into himself.

Back in the illusion, Elidan had given up trying to flee. He was going to join his friends as part of the Force. The Force, thinking about it, made the half-Sephi remember what Asadra said to him during one of their sessions. He survived because it was the will of the Force. He should accept it and use this second chance to continue training to be a Jedi. The boy remembered that all the Padawans that were holding him were still alive and that it was only an illusion. He would vow by the Force that he would not let the deaths of Ajan Kloss happen again. Elidan would become a Jedi and protect his new friends.

Then the illusion disappeared and the half-Sephi would let go of the sword and kneel on the floor. Elidan defeated the illusion, but he was still crying. He didn't notice that he had been close to killing himself.


@Logan @Charles @Altaria @Tom @Xian

 

[Alym Marr]

Alym remained quiet as each padawan approached the sword per her instruction. Some did so with much more trepidation than others, but the most important thing was that they did it anyway. The first step in conquering your fear was to do exactly that – take the first step. Being scared of something and then doing it anyway, well, to Alym that was what bravery was.

Once the final padawan had gone, Alym would remain quiet for a little bit longer. She turned her head towards each of them, her own way of giving them regard in what they had achieved whether they considered it a success or not.

In particular, Alym’s blindfolded gaze hung on Xiann a little longer than any of the others. The young Twi’lek had thought she knew what she was truly afraid of but had been presented with something entirely different. A lesson for her, Alym thought. Nothing stayed buried forever.

Regardless of the outcome, each of you should be proud of the way you handled the illusion presented to you, Alym said finally, going back to looking at no one in particular.

Standing against the darkside means confronting those same feelings every single day. It is important to know what haunts you, because even if you don’t, the darkside will figure it out for you. This time, Alym would be looking directly at Xiann, though her tone wouldn’t have changed much.

I wanted each of you to get a small taste of what such a powerful weapon of the darkside can truly do, even without an actual Sith to wield it and focus its malevolence into something far darker and more deadly.

With a wave of her hand, Alym used the force to put the sword of Revan back into its box, the lid sliding into place and once again locking it away, out of view of the padawans. Turning her attention back towards the students, Alym flashed the briefest of smiles before continuing.

Before we can proceed to the next step, we need to train in the art of shielding our minds from people and things that would seek to enter it without our consent. Like the sword, for instance. Alym said, gesturing towards the box. Even locked up tight inside of its wooden prison, the sword of Revan still whispered to the padawans, tempting them to retrieve it. It craved violence and blood. Keeping your thoughts, motivations and feelings a secret from those that would seek to do you harm by knowing them is an invaluable skill for any Jedi to have.

Alym motioned for each of the padawans to take a seat on the ground before her.

The easiest way is to preoccupy your mind with something simple, mundane, and to do this all the time. It will be hard at first, but eventually you will do it even subconsciously. For me? I just play pazaak. Alym smiled at the padawans for a moment, knowing that what was going to happen next might make some of them uncomfortable. I want you to do your best to occupy your thoughts, to conceal and obscure them. I am going to try to enter your mind and retrieve a piece of information about each of you. It is up to you to stop me.

Alym would nod towards the padawans as an indication to begin their attempts at shielding their minds. She would give them around five minutes before she would attempt her breach. Alym would attempt it on each of them, one at a time.

If this makes any of you uncomfortable, you are free to leave. I will not subject you to something you do not want.

This was the part of her training that some other Knights might take umbrage with - actively utilizing powers against students. But that was the only true way to practice something like this, or that was at least Alym's thought. The Knight began to center herself, getting her own mind ready for what was going to happen next.

@Altaria @LouJoVi @Charles @Tom @Xian

 

[Severus Creed]

After going first, Severus felt relieved to be finished with that gruesome hell. He...didn't care that the others probably witnessed it, too. There was this strange new found confidence in himself that he never had before. Severus loved the feeling! His past was the past. That was the lesson he learned. He lived on Yavin IV now, not Coruscant's Underworld. It wasn't necessarily pride that he felt, but just solace and peace of mind. He still didn't want to openly show the marks of his past to everyone just yet, but the fact they existed no longer bothered him.

When Severus watched the others, he didn't feel bad for them either. That wretched sword portrayed every one of your demons, and even having the guts to make the decision of facing them was a huge accomplishment. The black-clad Padawan felt admiration for all that touched the sword- victor or not, they were all braver than Severus thought they realized themselves.

Now came the time came for the second task- a way to conceal his mind. Severus had been doing this for years. It was strange how cut out for him this entire lesson was. The first bit, not so much, but the second half was right in Severus's comfort zone. Thinking of a mundane task? What could be more mundane than studying biology? No library. No people. No desk. No Severus. Only the book that laid before him. He closed his eyes after sitting down and began thinking of every page of that book. He could almost flip through them as if they were right in front of him. Every page might have been a bore to most other Padawans, but plants and animals were simple and basic and easy to understand. People were ridiculous! They were foolish or unrefined or Thelian.

Severus opened his eyes with a sudden realization of how challenging this would be.

Severus went back to the book. Only the book. Only the book! Nothing else. He began reading it again, reciting to himself every scientific name to every plant and animal that appeared on the pages. He didn't note any of their characteristics, simply looking at the image and attaching a name to it- Didn't Elidan read about Sando Aqua Monsters on Chandrila where Sev was launched into the lake by a bonehead?

Damn it! Severus opened his eyes again and sighed. Stupid, stupid Thelian. Always getting in the...Then it clicked and Severus smirked something so snide it would make a Sith cringe.

He began imagining the Echani in a fluffy pink Tootoo. Now Severus dared every Sith Lord to venture into his mind and find the horrific visage of the Echani preforming Swan Lake by fellow clones of himself! Watch them flutter and fly like angels! See them lunge with effortless grace and poise! Revel in it's monstrous glory!!

Somewhere, deep in Severus's subconscious, he was laughing like a mad scientist.

@Logan

 

[Laeonas Tannaras]

Proud.

The man splayed across the ground, eyes wide and breathing wracked with catches, looked up at the blindfolded woman with a look of waning terror. The images of tenement apartments being blasted to pieces, of thousands being turned to ash at the firing of turbolasers remained burned into his mind. That image of eyes-- his eyes, burning with a shade like fire, pierced through the veil of the profane world to look upon him. It's contempt for them-- for him, was evident. The man he was cowered at the image of the man he hoped so desperately to not be.

This was all he'd ever feared of that wrong he'd always felt. Of a being twisted by hatred, devoid of pity, compassion or mercy. He'd felt himself tap in before; of that day he'd choked out the gangsters who'd attacked him, and how he felt a desire to end them. Of the day on Mataou, when the lies of the slaves had driven him into a persistent, murderous rage.

Most terrifying of all was that it was never an external pressure. There was no foreign entity that prompted these actions. No demons, ancient ghosts, or long dead Sith Lords like in the stories he'd heard as a child. It had been he who'd wanted to kill. He who'd wanted to make people suffer. All the sword had done was take what was already within and draw it out to the forefront.

Closing his eyes, Laeonas would mutter a few words again and again. "Eitilt fiteach beag ard, eitilt fiteach beag ard, eitilt fiteach beag ard..." The Brentaalan whispered. It was a simple phrase, and it calmed him to no end. He'd try and draw on the living force around him, focusing on the familiarity of life itself, the background noise of the universe. By the time he was finished, he was able to stand; though from his expression and the beads of sweat going down his forehead, it was clear that he was still rattled.

Laeonas would give a brief glance to the others. The two humans looked fine, happy even; but the knife eared mute and the twi'lek seemed beyond distraught. For a moment, the man felt a twinge of pain in his chest, seeing the tears from the boy roll down his cheeks. It dissipated as he'd turn to face Alym however, the man trying his best to focus on the lesson. There had to be some value in what they'd gone through, and only by embracing this experience could that value present itself.

The instructions were clear; to find something mundane, and leave it up as a wall. Laeonas had drifted with his head mostly empty in the first few weeks of his recovery, but his mind had slowly healed over the course of the previous year and a half. Rarely was he not thinking of something, or focused on a task he was engaged in. There'd been a time, unconsciously, where he'd set up a wall around his mind. Yet he couldn't possibly sustain it at all times. Not without suffering.

Yet it came so natural to the man. As the man stood there, waves of anguish that had been suppressed began to cloud around his mind. Thoughts became shrouded in the suffering of those who he'd witnessed perish during the bombardment on Firrerre. It was a thick layer of emotion, projected around his thoughts. Even as tears began to well up in his eyes, he kept the walls up.

Ofcourse, Alym had probably suggested the lesson because she had a special way of getting past their defenses. If they actually succeeded in defending themselves, they'd learn nothing from the possible failure that could occur. This was to make them stronger, more prepared. If the Jedi tore down the walls he built, they'd only be stronger when he built them back up.

​

@Logan @Charles @LouJoVi @Altaria @Xian