Private A Lesson in Steel and Stillness

[Valery Noble]

​

Outfit: Wedding Ring
Weapons: Lightsabers

The mid-morning sun filtered softly through the mist-wrapped peaks of Tython. Wind rustled through the trees, carrying with it the scent of dew-wet leaves and ancient earth — a quiet serenity that echoed through the Force itself. But in the heart of the training grounds, that calm was about to give way to something far more kinetic.

Valery stood at the center of the ring, her boots planted on the worn duracrete where countless Jedi had once sparred. She was wearing simple training attire, had sabers clipped at her hips, and one hand resting casually on her belt. Around her, the Temple grounds pulsed with life — the distant hum of meditation chambers, the rhythmic clash of other sparring Jedi, and the ever-present whisper of Tython's deep, unseen energy.

She closed her eyes and took a long breath, centering herself, then activated her comm.

<"Padawan Everest,"> her voice came calm, carried on a channel reserved just for the two of them. <"Report to the training grounds. Bring your saber. And bring your focus."> She ended the transmission and smirked faintly, already stepping back into a ready stance, her orange eyes opening to the wind-stirred sky above.

This wasn't just a lesson in form.

Today, she wanted to see what her Padawan had truly learned.

Everest Vale ​

 

[Everest Vale]

Outfit: Robes
Equipment: Lightsaber, Bracelet, Earrings
Tag: Valery Noble

​

The clearing was quiet when Eve arrived, tucked within the highlands of Tython, where the air was sharp with the scent of wildflowers and stone, and the wind carried the hush of distant peaks. The grass swayed in slow, meditative rhythms, kissed by the mountain breeze. Nature breathed here. Every leaf and petal a whisper of stillness.

She stepped lightly onto the earth, the soles of her boots brushing against soil softened by morning dew. Overhead, pale sunlight streamed through broken clouds, lighting her silver hair like the edge of a blade. She took a deep breath in through her nose, savouring the fresh scent of late spring.

It had been quiet since the hospital. Not peace exactly, but quiet. She had been told it would get easier. That the body adjusts. That the mind adapts. But no one had warned her how deeply imbalance could echo through every movement. How sparring felt lopsided. How stairs could seem to shift beneath her feet. How even the swing of a saber felt... foreign.

The Force helped, but not always. Not enough to erase the frustration.

Still, she endured. Still, she trained.

She paused at the edge of the clearing, her hand briefly brushing the leather patch over her left eye. She didn't press it, didn't flinch. It wasn't shame. It was memory. A mark of love and pain, both earned. Both hers. She looked ahead.

Master Valery had invited her here. She understood what that meant, even if not in full. It had a good amount of time since Valery had taken her under her wing. Back then, she was a mess, a simple girl with no life experience, delicate and scared. That all felt... so long ago now. And true enough, it had been. Her birthday and was fast approaching, effectively marking a year in the Order. The thought of everything she had been through, the changes she had gone through, it send a strange feeling through her heart. Strength, passion, but not without a pang of pain. But she was her now. No turning back.

Her breath steadied.

She stepped forward into the clearing.

"Master," she said warmly, offering a respectful incline of her head, and a small, honest smile.

"It's... really good to see you."

Her voice was calm, clear. But beneath it — beneath the greeting, beneath the serene surface — was resolve. Quiet as coals. Burning all the same.

 

[Valery Noble]

​

Outfit: Wedding Ring
Weapons: Lightsabers

Valery's gaze rose the moment she felt her Padawan cross into the training grounds — not from the sound of footsteps, but the ripple of familiar presence in the Force. Stronger now. Steadier. Not untouched by pain, but forged through it. She turned as Everest approached, the wind catching the loose strands of her dark hair and tugging them free of her braid. The faintest smile tugged at her lips.

"Everest," she said warmly, voice rich with pride and something deeper — something maternal. She bowed at the waist, slow and respectful, before rising again to meet her student's single, unwavering gaze.

"It's good to see you too."

Her eyes flicked briefly to the saber at Everest's hip, then back to the young woman herself.

"I called you here for a reason," she continued, stepping slowly to the center of the ring again. "Today's not just about drills or forms. I want to see you — your instincts, your control, your focus. Everything you've learned, and everything you've become." She stepped back into a ready stance, one hand drifting to her own saber hilt — but she didn't ignite it yet.

"This isn't about perfection," Valery added gently. "It's about presence. Show me what you've got."

A beat.

"Whenever you're ready."

Everest Vale ​

 

[Everest Vale]

Outfit: Robes
Equipment: Lightsaber, Bracelet, Earrings
Tag: Valery Noble

​

Eve stepped forward, the sound of her boots softened by the wind stirring across the stone. Valery’s voice met her like sunlight through cloud — steady, warm, and grounding. The bow was returned in kind: low, deep, reverent. Not just for a Master, but for her Master. The one who had guided her through the dark. Who had seen everything she had, and made her who she had become.

Her hand ran lightly along the hilt of Stillness. The saber was a comfort now. Not a weapon. Not a symbol. But a truth.

"I understand," Eve said quietly, her silver eye steady as it met Valery’s. "And I’m ready."

Her voice didn’t waver. It carried no arrogance, no fear, just resolve, calm and clear. She reached for the Force, let it rise around her, not like fire or fury, but like a current beneath her feet, lifting her breath, steadying her centre.

Eve stepped forward with quiet purpose, the white blade of Stillness igniting in a clean, humming breath. She didn’t rush. Her motion was fluid, balanced, guided by instinct and centered in calm. A half step to the side, a measured feint, and then the true strike came: a diagonal cut from right to left, precise and deliberate. She flowed with the movement, letting the momentum carry her into a low, grounded stance, saber raised again in quiet readiness. Her eye never left Valery.

But she said nothing.

Her speech was in her flow.

 

[Valery Noble]

​

Outfit: Wedding Ring
Weapons: Lightsabers

Valery's saber ignited in a flash of violet light, the hum rising to meet the whisper of white as their blades finally spoke the same language — one of motion, of clarity, of tested trust.

She met the first strike with a smooth pivot, letting the white blade crash against hers with a hiss of energy. The contact sparked between them, but there was no brute resistance. Valery absorbed the blow, turned it, redirected it — like a river guiding a stone. Her eyes, still and sharp, never broke from Everest's.

"Good," she said quietly, her voice barely above the breeze.

She stepped to the side, her saber disengaging just long enough to create space before sweeping in low — a horizontal strike aimed at Everest's flank. It wasn't meant to hit, but to force a reaction, to test her student's adaptability in the moment. The next motion came fast: a pivot on her heel, followed by a rising slash angled toward Everest's shoulder. Clean, efficient, and far from her full strength — but more than enough to demand precision in return.

Then she halted.

Not a full stop, but a pause within motion — blade poised, eyes locked on Everest with fierce intensity.

"Don't think. Feel."

Her voice was steady, but the challenge was clear.

"Let it speak through you."

Everest Vale ​

 

[Everest Vale]

Outfit: Robes
Equipment: Lightsaber, Bracelet, Earrings
Tag: Valery Noble

​

Eve's breath flowed out in silence. The world narrowed. The wind dimmed. The crash of waves became distant thunder. Only Valery's eyes remained—still and certain—as the low sweep came in.

She moved.

The white blade met violet not with resistance, but with rhythm. Eve stepped into the strike, not away, her saber coming down in a tight, spiraling parry that deflected the low arc to the side. Feet slid in the sand. Her body turned with the precision of breath meeting heartbeat. The rising slash followed, fast and deliberate, but Eve was already shifting—shoulder dipping, her blade reversing in a graceful spin to meet it edge-on, absorbing the blow and sending the energy wide.

She didn't think. She flowed, like water over stone, like leaves in a storm. Each movement came not from the mind, but from the place the Force lived in her — that quiet wellspring she had drawn from so many times before, in battle and in healing, in grief and in love. She was the girl who had once been broken on Woostri. She was the woman who had faced herself on Ilum. She was the light called Stillness in the hand of one who had learned to listen.

Her eye met Valery's again. And though she said nothing, the Force spoke for her.

Then she moved again—no call, no warning—only the whisper of sand as her feet shifted and the white of her blade came alive in motion.

A fresh flurry followed: tight arcs and precise cuts, not wild with power but honed with purpose. A diagonal sweep from the left, reversed mid-motion into a feint that turned into a low stab toward the hip. She stepped fluidly, her body a conduit of motion, the Force threading each movement into the next without pause. Upward came the riposte, not to strike but to occupy space, to guide Valery's defenses where she willed—and in the next breath, she turned with a pivot, bringing her blade around in a clean horizontal slash that hummed with quiet conviction.

It was not aggression, nor was it showmanship. It was presence. In each strike, in each pivot and parry, Eve remained centered; calm, unshaken, her breath a silent metronome to the dance. She didn't chase Valery's form; she answered it. Letting instinct, not ego, move her. A stillness within the storm.