Infinity and Beyond
(Wrong account lmao)
Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos
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Private Bargaining
- Thread starter Aster Jace
- Start date
Castle of Glass
The saber was still awkward in his hands, so unlike the one Bren had left on the side of the training ring, but the thought of exchanging one for the other ever again was out of the question. How could he? If he ever put the golden-bladed saber down, what would be left of Thoril but memories, doomed to slowly washed away by the tides of time. It was not his weapon, and it never would be, but it could be close enough.
A Twi’lek Padawan had volunteered to be Brennus’ sparring partner, and was regretting it already. Thoril’s saber might have been awkward in Bren’s grip, but his form and the power behind it was unchanged. Gold clashed with blue again and again as Bren drove the other learner back, breaking his guard, swatting away an attempted counter. He was pressing, pressing, always pressing, never relenting in his onslaught of two handed strikes.
The learner stumbles over his feet, trips, and falls back onto the mat. Bren brought the blade down, stopping just short of the other boy and holding the humming blade in front of his face.
“Y-you got me Brennus.” The Twi’lek drops his own saber, the blue blade collapsing as he lifts his hands in surrender. There’s fear there, the slightest doubt that Bren might somehow have intentions more nefarious than a spar.
He thinks I might kill him
The thought strikes harder than any of the boy’s blows, and Bren deactivates his own blade without another word, turning away in a mix of frustration and shame. No one seemed to understand why Bren was training so fiercely. He had to master this, it was the only way to keep some part of Thoril alive, it was the only deal left to be struck now that his mentor had been given to the force.
Bren knew the thoughts were erratic, dark even, but he could control them, he knew his limits.
“Need someone else.” Bren called out, returning to his starting point, Thoril’s saber tight in his hand.
A Twi’lek Padawan had volunteered to be Brennus’ sparring partner, and was regretting it already. Thoril’s saber might have been awkward in Bren’s grip, but his form and the power behind it was unchanged. Gold clashed with blue again and again as Bren drove the other learner back, breaking his guard, swatting away an attempted counter. He was pressing, pressing, always pressing, never relenting in his onslaught of two handed strikes.
The learner stumbles over his feet, trips, and falls back onto the mat. Bren brought the blade down, stopping just short of the other boy and holding the humming blade in front of his face.
“Y-you got me Brennus.” The Twi’lek drops his own saber, the blue blade collapsing as he lifts his hands in surrender. There’s fear there, the slightest doubt that Bren might somehow have intentions more nefarious than a spar.
He thinks I might kill him
The thought strikes harder than any of the boy’s blows, and Bren deactivates his own blade without another word, turning away in a mix of frustration and shame. No one seemed to understand why Bren was training so fiercely. He had to master this, it was the only way to keep some part of Thoril alive, it was the only deal left to be struck now that his mentor had been given to the force.
Bren knew the thoughts were erratic, dark even, but he could control them, he knew his limits.
“Need someone else.” Bren called out, returning to his starting point, Thoril’s saber tight in his hand.
But I Am Free
"So you say."
It was Kahlil that took a step to stand before Brennus. He'd felt the emotion, the surge of fear. Grief. Something had happened, but as he entered the room it was a little clearer for him already. The Padawan had lost their Master in the invasion. He understood that grief, at least well enough to know when someone was taking out their frustration and helplessness on another. He ignited his blade, giving a calm, simple smile to the boy.
"I believe I can still keep up. Shall we?"
Brennus Faran
Castle of Glass
If there was anyone Brennus had expected to answer the call of challenge, it had not been the man who did. Almost a foot taller, scarred from fierce battles, and a shining light in the force - Kahlil Noble was the sort of man who brought down Dark Lords. For a moment, Brennus felt small, afraid even, but he pushed it down. If he was brave and showed well, Thoril's guidance might still reach him. It'd be worth any bruises.
"I-" The words embarrassingly stuck in his throat, an instant passing before Bren drew in a deep breath and sunk into his fighting stance. He gave the Jedi Master a wordless nod of affirmation, bringing Thoril's saber to bear in both hands, then thumbing the ignition on his next exhale. The blade snapped back to life. Inhale. His muscles tensed, his body steeled itself, his mind allowed the Force to fill his awareness. Exhale.
Bren shot forward like a thunderbolt, and brought the blade down in a golden arc.
"I-" The words embarrassingly stuck in his throat, an instant passing before Bren drew in a deep breath and sunk into his fighting stance. He gave the Jedi Master a wordless nod of affirmation, bringing Thoril's saber to bear in both hands, then thumbing the ignition on his next exhale. The blade snapped back to life. Inhale. His muscles tensed, his body steeled itself, his mind allowed the Force to fill his awareness. Exhale.
Bren shot forward like a thunderbolt, and brought the blade down in a golden arc.
But I Am Free
There were no need for words.
Kahlil lifted his blade, but rather than go on the attack he simply opted for the defense. Green met gold in a flash of white over and over again. A living target dummy was what Kahlil was going for now, to push Brennus. To force his emotions out. It was clear that he was trying to make himself use his master's blade, and the grief that was with it?
It wouldn't do the boy any good to leave this unchecked.
Brennus Faran
Castle of Glass
It was like trying to fight the ocean, every slash, stab, and flourish was ultimately pointless. He could no more kill the sea than he could beat the Jedi Master. Thoril's hilt was steadier in his grasp than it had been, but the long-handled saber was meant for the moderate, guided grace of Niman, not Bren's relentless Djem So. For every three well-executed strikes, one was too slow, or he over-committed or made some other mistake.
No retribution came. Kahlil was playing with him, or worse, he was trying to let him work out the strife inside him until it exhausted him. Bren did not need to feel better; he did not deserve to feel better, not yet, anyway. He had to earn guidance, he had to do something right, and then maybe he would hear the force's call.
"Stop messing around," Bren managed in a frustrated exhale, rolling left and lashing out with a wide swing at the master's side. Another series of swipes, the last one telegraphed well in advance. Were the other Padawans laughing? Was his imbalance a joke? Paranoid anger born of a sleepless mind grew beneath the skin as he grit his teeth.
"I can handle it."
He knew that wasn't true, but it would not stop him from trying.
No retribution came. Kahlil was playing with him, or worse, he was trying to let him work out the strife inside him until it exhausted him. Bren did not need to feel better; he did not deserve to feel better, not yet, anyway. He had to earn guidance, he had to do something right, and then maybe he would hear the force's call.
"Stop messing around," Bren managed in a frustrated exhale, rolling left and lashing out with a wide swing at the master's side. Another series of swipes, the last one telegraphed well in advance. Were the other Padawans laughing? Was his imbalance a joke? Paranoid anger born of a sleepless mind grew beneath the skin as he grit his teeth.
"I can handle it."
He knew that wasn't true, but it would not stop him from trying.
But I Am Free
"I shall when you do. That saber is neither yours nor is it comfortable in your hands."
Kahlil returned to a neutral state, returned to keeping his blade passive. A shield, not a sword, as he watched Brennus. His attention shifted to the saber in his hands, idly nodding his head towards it.
"Can you feel it? The kyber within. It's grieving just as much as you are, Brennus."
Brennus Faran
Castle of Glass
The acclaimed Master was anything but wrong, but that did not make it any less frustrating to hear.
"I know that," He snarled between a strike high and a slash low. "That's why I'm practicing."
Brennus' let the storm of strikes subside as fire ran up his arms, the sting of straining muscle making itself known in spite of his efforts to ignore it. The questions pushed at his mind while his exhaustion strained his body.
"Of course I feel it, how couldn't I?"
"I know that," He snarled between a strike high and a slash low. "That's why I'm practicing."
Brennus' let the storm of strikes subside as fire ran up his arms, the sting of straining muscle making itself known in spite of his efforts to ignore it. The questions pushed at his mind while his exhaustion strained his body.
"Of course I feel it, how couldn't I?"
But I Am Free
"If you can feel it, why are you making it fight?"
Kahlil's stance shifted then, a quick strike to meet one of Brennus's own to knock it aside, to take sudden and complete control of the fight to twist the blade from the boy's grasp and force the blade to retract.
"Our kyber is just as much a part of us as we are of them. Why would deny it's chance to rest and heal for your own anguish?"
Castle of Glass
The instant the blade left Brennus' grasp, the Padawan went still. Impulse and muscle memory told him to backstep and create distance, then rearm himself. Instead he simply stood there, motionless, features painted by the soft green glow of Kahlil's saber. Silver eyes filled with grief and frustration stared across the gap between the two.
"That's why I need it." His hands tightened at his side a pang of guilt in his voice. This was not enough, it was not good enough. "It's all that I have left."
He wasn't ready to let go, not yet.
"That's why I need it." His hands tightened at his side a pang of guilt in his voice. This was not enough, it was not good enough. "It's all that I have left."
He wasn't ready to let go, not yet.
But I Am Free
"No. You've his lessons. His beliefs. Your memories."
Kahlil kept the blade, watching the boy. So many had been lost. So many that a victory, the victory it was, felt hollow. And yet, the Jedi held the blade back for Brennus, offering a calm smile with it.
"Grieve for him. But don't forget the Jedi he trained you to be, or the Jedi he was."
Brennus Faran
Castle of Glass
The Jedi he was, the Jedi he trained you to be.
Brennus had relived those final moments on a loop every day and every night, it took only the slightest provocation to draw up the horrid memory of his master’s corpse, barely holding together in his arms. He’d endured that memory constantly, and in doing so had pushed aside those of all the lessons Thoril had tried to impart on him. Brennus had not been an easy student, as quick to frustrate as he was to amuse, but Thoril had always kept a cool head with him. He’d seen something in Bren, or that was what he’d said.
“Is it ever going to go away?” The question came suddenly, just as the Padawan took the saber back into his hand, his grip surer than before. “Or do you just get used to it?”
Kahlil Noble
Brennus had relived those final moments on a loop every day and every night, it took only the slightest provocation to draw up the horrid memory of his master’s corpse, barely holding together in his arms. He’d endured that memory constantly, and in doing so had pushed aside those of all the lessons Thoril had tried to impart on him. Brennus had not been an easy student, as quick to frustrate as he was to amuse, but Thoril had always kept a cool head with him. He’d seen something in Bren, or that was what he’d said.
“Is it ever going to go away?” The question came suddenly, just as the Padawan took the saber back into his hand, his grip surer than before. “Or do you just get used to it?”
Kahlil Noble
But I Am Free
"No, and no. The Jedi of old would tell you that, in time, you would accept that they are now one with the Force and let go. But you'll never truly let go, and no one here will fully expect you to."
Kahlil stood there before him for a moment longer before turning, motioned to the exit. "It will get easier. Time does heal all wounds. You learn to find the happiness in the sadness, and press on."
Brennus Faran
Castle of Glass
Bren had seen that answer coming, but it didn’t make it any easier to hear. He’d hoped the wise master would have some hopeful declaration that the Force would soon balm his pain and make him feel whole again. Even the promised light at the end of the metaphorical tunnel felt somehow wrong. Was it okay to move on? Would Thoril forgive him for that? Was there anything to forgive?
For all his training, Bren felt so unprepared for this part of his journey. He’d thought there would be more time, so much more time. He’d dreamed of showing Thoril his own learner one day, once he’d become a Knight. Now he’d show no one.
“Is that okay? To be happy again?” The question was so…juvenile. It was almost embarrassing, but Bren swallowed down that feeling as he tucked the saber back onto his side.
Kahlil Noble
For all his training, Bren felt so unprepared for this part of his journey. He’d thought there would be more time, so much more time. He’d dreamed of showing Thoril his own learner one day, once he’d become a Knight. Now he’d show no one.
“Is that okay? To be happy again?” The question was so…juvenile. It was almost embarrassing, but Bren swallowed down that feeling as he tucked the saber back onto his side.
Kahlil Noble
But I Am Free
"It is."
It would take time, but, it would be. He smiled faintly still, nodding his head before he again looked to the exit and totally didn't forget to speak up about why he'd even done so in the first place and it totally wasn't his writer's fault at all.
"Are you hungry?"
Brennus Faran