He had never been quiet his whole life, never without company whether friend or not, and yet quiet was what he remained for quite sometime now.
The galaxy was currently plunged into an even messier affair. The Sith activity growing ever higher (just thinking of Kashyyyk and two of his fellow Jedi being removed from the Order made him sick), the New Republic booting out Jedi from their territories, and seeing an unforseeable end to all the fighting. He tried not to spiral down to his old, cynical self but he saw everything that was happening as a cycle nowadays. Or maybe that was how he should be looking at things from now on. A cycle. No clean-cut corners, no ends. Just a circle rolling round and round and round...
At least he'd made friends, made a found family. Had a gaggle of children who weren't even his own yet adored them the way he wished his father did with him. More people he pledged to protect, even at the cost of his own life. And so as a Padawan he trained harder, and ignored the Darkness that whispered at him. There were times when he could easily ignore It. More times than he could count, it astounded him.
If he had the mental capacity to disregard whatever the Dark Side of the Force seduced him with, then why couldn't the grief of losing a couple of Jedi younglings – children that were not even his own blood –remain as painful as the day he'd found out?
Why couldn't he bear the pain and move forward like his peers, his superiors, his friends? Why was he cycling back to old habits of wallowing in his negative emotions, so much so he resembled the way he was when he first felt the Dark Side's sway?
Ah, but of course. Just like what was happening outside these temple walls–
Everything's just a cycle, innit?
It sure is.
Jedi life just constantly giving you heartache, huh?
Life in general does. Joining the Order never gave me grief.
But you doubted.
I didn't.
You lost your precious children and you doubted.
It's the pain I felt that did!
It is all I need, boy.
Thus the cycle began anew.
The galaxy was currently plunged into an even messier affair. The Sith activity growing ever higher (just thinking of Kashyyyk and two of his fellow Jedi being removed from the Order made him sick), the New Republic booting out Jedi from their territories, and seeing an unforseeable end to all the fighting. He tried not to spiral down to his old, cynical self but he saw everything that was happening as a cycle nowadays. Or maybe that was how he should be looking at things from now on. A cycle. No clean-cut corners, no ends. Just a circle rolling round and round and round...
At least he'd made friends, made a found family. Had a gaggle of children who weren't even his own yet adored them the way he wished his father did with him. More people he pledged to protect, even at the cost of his own life. And so as a Padawan he trained harder, and ignored the Darkness that whispered at him. There were times when he could easily ignore It. More times than he could count, it astounded him.
If he had the mental capacity to disregard whatever the Dark Side of the Force seduced him with, then why couldn't the grief of losing a couple of Jedi younglings – children that were not even his own blood –remain as painful as the day he'd found out?
Why couldn't he bear the pain and move forward like his peers, his superiors, his friends? Why was he cycling back to old habits of wallowing in his negative emotions, so much so he resembled the way he was when he first felt the Dark Side's sway?
Ah, but of course. Just like what was happening outside these temple walls–
Everything's just a cycle, innit?
It sure is.
Jedi life just constantly giving you heartache, huh?
Life in general does. Joining the Order never gave me grief.
But you doubted.
I didn't.
You lost your precious children and you doubted.
It's the pain I felt that did!
It is all I need, boy.
Thus the cycle began anew.