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Cold. That was all he could feel. He had purposely lowered the temperature in his small room enough that goose bumps crept along his arms, his breath lazily floated in front of him. Disappearing and reappearing with lifes rhythm. Inhale. Exhale.
He wasn't entirely sure of what he was doing having read the basics of Tapas in a holocron. Every fiber in his being wanted him to rush to a nearby Master to seek solace in their wisdom, and perhaps pass on the burden of his own inability, but he already knew what most, if not all, of them would say. He should wait until a Master chooses him. That person would teach him all he needed to know, if he truly waited.. he may never find out! Normally patient, it had worn thin in the countless hours of near panic attacks and wandering thoughts of what would become of him should he not be chosen.
He had to advance himself.. had to make himself more desirable to have. Traven had to improve so that people would accept him and perhaps let him move forward.. If only.
With a sigh he pushed back all his mind nagging worries long enough to draw his legs to him trying to enter a trance like state. Tapas. It was not the technique itself he was interested in merely the practice of control that he would gain. There were great techniques waiting out there such as Force Shield, but he was not near that level.. Tapas was a lesser variation of Force Shield, or so he believed.
Tapas required him to make a small shell of force around himself to consolidate his body heat.. He closed his eyes to the dull gray room around him entering the dark reaches of his mind. Reaching out he felt the gently tugging of the force.. It was as if a great blue river was flowing through his mind gently moving and bending to his slight tugs and pulls. It flowed through him and all the land around him, but he didnt want that..
Reaching out tenderly with his mind he gently tugged and pulled on the great river trying to make small streams that would surround him and protect him from the biting cold. Slowly he lost feelings in his fingers, but he could feel it working. Just a little bit, just a little bit warmer. A soft chattering sound from the outside world drew his attention.. it was his teeth!
The shocking revelation sent a sharp spike of panic through his body. Had he failed? Was there some hole in his Tapas?! With a rushed mind he poked and prodded the wall of force trying to find the hole, but in his panic he lost his concentration as more holes appeared one after another. He tried in vain to plug them as well but only succeeding in causing more mayhem with his frantic efforts. What would seem like an eternity to him, but only seconds to any nearby it all collapsed.
He snapped his eyes opened, and a familiar feeling crept in. One of anger, self-loathing, and bitterness. He had failed. He had been sure that he could at least do this.. but he was not ready for even such a simple technique. He wanted to cry out in helpless anger, but the steady trembling of his hands and the chattering of his teeth dissuaded him. With a soft sigh of defeat, he turned the heat back on in the room.
He needed more practice.. the story of his life.
He wasn't entirely sure of what he was doing having read the basics of Tapas in a holocron. Every fiber in his being wanted him to rush to a nearby Master to seek solace in their wisdom, and perhaps pass on the burden of his own inability, but he already knew what most, if not all, of them would say. He should wait until a Master chooses him. That person would teach him all he needed to know, if he truly waited.. he may never find out! Normally patient, it had worn thin in the countless hours of near panic attacks and wandering thoughts of what would become of him should he not be chosen.
He had to advance himself.. had to make himself more desirable to have. Traven had to improve so that people would accept him and perhaps let him move forward.. If only.
With a sigh he pushed back all his mind nagging worries long enough to draw his legs to him trying to enter a trance like state. Tapas. It was not the technique itself he was interested in merely the practice of control that he would gain. There were great techniques waiting out there such as Force Shield, but he was not near that level.. Tapas was a lesser variation of Force Shield, or so he believed.
Tapas required him to make a small shell of force around himself to consolidate his body heat.. He closed his eyes to the dull gray room around him entering the dark reaches of his mind. Reaching out he felt the gently tugging of the force.. It was as if a great blue river was flowing through his mind gently moving and bending to his slight tugs and pulls. It flowed through him and all the land around him, but he didnt want that..
Reaching out tenderly with his mind he gently tugged and pulled on the great river trying to make small streams that would surround him and protect him from the biting cold. Slowly he lost feelings in his fingers, but he could feel it working. Just a little bit, just a little bit warmer. A soft chattering sound from the outside world drew his attention.. it was his teeth!
The shocking revelation sent a sharp spike of panic through his body. Had he failed? Was there some hole in his Tapas?! With a rushed mind he poked and prodded the wall of force trying to find the hole, but in his panic he lost his concentration as more holes appeared one after another. He tried in vain to plug them as well but only succeeding in causing more mayhem with his frantic efforts. What would seem like an eternity to him, but only seconds to any nearby it all collapsed.
He snapped his eyes opened, and a familiar feeling crept in. One of anger, self-loathing, and bitterness. He had failed. He had been sure that he could at least do this.. but he was not ready for even such a simple technique. He wanted to cry out in helpless anger, but the steady trembling of his hands and the chattering of his teeth dissuaded him. With a soft sigh of defeat, he turned the heat back on in the room.
He needed more practice.. the story of his life.