Private Children of Shiraya: Then Buds the Ardor

[Brandyn Sal-Soren]

Once a week, Brandyn had found a way to slip by the Estate's security. This was the first week he had dared to try it twice. Cybelle had become his tutor in the ways of the Force, a great excuse for him to get two of the things he enjoyed most - Force training and time with her.

He stopped fidgeting. To be fair, the helmet was a bit of snug fit and he had to move his ear a little to prevent it from folding over. "Wait...what? Shoot me?" He said with a startled tone, "OK, but I am putting a lot of trust in you...Miss Elyance."

Brandyn trusted her, and found it oddly comforting to say as much. Although he wondered now if his words could be misconstrued in that he had only just now decided to trust her.

With the hilt of the fake lightsaber in hand, Brandyn felt a thrill of excitement tingle up his spine. He flicked the switch, and could feel the hilt simulating the drag of the lightsaber's plasma blade. Just for a moment, he forgot that it was simply haptic feedback tech in the saber hilt that was creating the sensations. It felt just like he imagined holding a lightsaber to be.

"Wow," he said involuntarily, before growing a little sheepish.

He laughed at her lighthearted approach to his potential failure, and given the downside of failing in this instance he considered purposely doing as badly as possible. The desire to do well in front of Cybelle one out though.

She had taught him how to focus on the Force. His mother had done a little work with this, as much as she could without trampling on her husband's wishes completely. But what Cybelle had taught Brandyn had been invaluable. In fact, it was today that he had made the jump that had previously seen him face plant and fall into the water. His improvement was all thanks to his...friend.

The Force appeared to Brandyn's minds eye as a series of wispy tendrils tugging at all things. Things that were stationary had equal Force applied to them from these tendrils of air. Things that moved pushed past them sending ripples through the surroundings, like a stone dropped in a lake. It was a little overwhelming at first, but with his teacher's guidance he had begun to focus on those things that had greatest importance and tune out the rest of what amounted to static.

The remote moved, and Brandyn turned to face it head on. It them zipped to its left, Brandyn turned the wrong way initially, and then quickly readjusted as he moved his pretend blade into the path of a bolt. It was just barely intercepted by a swat of his invisible saber blade, more luck than skill. The remote moved again, upwards, then to its left again, before dropping quickly down - firing - and to its left and firing again quickly.

The first bolt was intercepted, as it required very little movement of the blade, the second shot took him by surprise. Before he realized what was happening, the shot had stung him on the shoulder.

"Ow!" He said, while shaking his arm to ward off the discomfort.

| Cybelle Sal-Soren |​

 

[Cybelle Sal-Soren]

N A B O O
Tag: Brandyn Sal-Soren
Age: 16
Location: Spritegate Shore (Two Months Later)
_________________________________________________________​

Bran would only hear her laugh while he grappled with the notion of being shot at—And eventually, it faded into a breathless chuckle. While she enjoyed having fun with her friend, she also took to teaching him rather seriously. The Force for all of its mystery and joy was not a toy. If he learned to access it but not to harness or control it—That would be a disaster. These exercises taught both of those things.

Cybelle didn't bother to inform him that the blaster bolts would only sting despite her teasing warnings.

It wasn't pleasant—But it did get the point across.

"You know my name, Bran. This miss stuff makes me feel like an old lady. Or worse—", she intoned with ever-rising eyebrows. "The debutants that get carted off into arranged marriages."

In another life, easily, that would have been her existence. Cybelle had a distant seat toward the Hapan Throne and that was enough to propel her into parts of society that would treat her as if she were both made of glass and a broodmare. None of that sounded appealing, at all. She liked her freedoms. The simple joy of fresh air versus stuffy corsets at tea time was enough to make her nod her head in self-assertion. Yes. This was most definitely preferable.

Not to mention the woes and dangers of politics. Ye, gads. All that had to happen for her to be a little Hapani Queen was the death of fifty-some odd other people. Yeah. That seemed totally worth it.

Not.

"Remember…We're not just learning how to use a lightsaber today. It's all about discovering more about your connection to the Force. It's a little different for everyone. It feels big. So huge that it can swallow you up if you're not careful.", Cybelle spoke, carefully, trying to recall how Master Aegis had instructed her in the past. One of the first things they went over were the five core precepts of the original Jedi Code. She knew from experience, however, that it was boring as week-old dirt. If she could engage Bran with the training droid while explaining? Some of it might stick.

When he got caught in the shoulder Cybelle sucked in a little air through her teeth, worried, even though she knew it was little more than a love tap. She'd been stung by it hundreds, thousands of times, and it had never left a mark. "Don't give up. Put your feet the way I showed you and bend your elbows just a little so you can raise your guard. You'll need to do more than just see with your eyes. Look in—Not out."

"A really, really long time ago Force Wars were actually fought with metal blades that were Force-Enhanced for strength and sharpness. Even people with years of training had a really hard time using a lightsaber because it doesn't feel normal."

"Always remember that the Force flows through us. Not from us.", the young woman continued on gently before quieting so that he could concentrate and try again. Master Aegis would laugh, should she hear, the way Cybelle parroted her now. Truly...the dark-eyes soon-to-be Knight was surprised that he'd managed to deflect anything at all on his first try.

She smiled, though he couldn't see it. She was so very proud of him for trying so hard.

 

[Brandyn Sal-Soren]

"You don't seem much like the marriage type," Brandyn commented, hoping that his purposeful leading of the conversation was not to obvious, "let alone arranged marriages!" He laughed, trying to cover his tracks.

He followed her instructions, but felt a increasing level of doubt flood his mind. He had thought that he would take to Jedi abilities easily, that they would be natural for him. Nothing had ever come naturally, unlike his sisters, so he figured that this might be it. He found he was having to combat no small amount of discouragement during these training times with Cybelle. If it hadn't been for his desire to be around her, and to impress her, he may not have continued coming. Not if it was just for the training.

"The Force can...swallow you?" He said, trying not to give away the feeling of intimidation that the though brought him, "you mean...the Dark Side, right?"

Brandyn stood the way he remembered being shown, the best he could anyway. But something about the Dark Side kept pinging at his mind.

The Force flows...through you...listen to her...

Again, his imaginary saber blade ignited, and Brandyn felt the drag of the haptics doing their work. The remote seemed to interact with the tendrils of Force energy in a slightly more intricate fashion, but Brandyn stopped focusing on the remote itself, and on the Force around him...through him. One shot was deflected with ease, the remote moved quickly and let off a second, which was caught with ease once again. Brandyn could feel the sense of achievement, even pride, begin to well up within. His mind focusing in on the remote to catch the next shot. He swatted to the left, the direction the remote had gone, only for it to suddenly stop and shoot. His blade overshot the remotes bolt of energy, and did not have enough time to get back for the next two either. Brandyn's mind was now scrambling to catch up, to refocus, but it all fell into disarray.

"Aaargh!" He exclaimed in pain, but mostly in frustration, "I can't believe I messed that up."

| Cybelle Sal-Soren |​

 

[Cybelle Sal-Soren]

N A B O O
Tag: Brandyn Sal-Soren
Age: 16
Location: Spritegate Shore (Two Months Later)
_________________________________________________________​

“Some Jedi do.”, Cybelle responded lightly, with a little shrug. In truth she hadn’t put much thought into it. Somewhere in the galaxy there were little girls that couldn’t wait to find the person they were supposed to have their forever-life with, that planned the dress, the date, the party down to the finest detail. Cybelle had just never really been one of them. “And if it’s arranged—I suppose I wouldn’t have a choice, now, would I?”

She nodded her head while watching his body adjust into an estimation of the form she had shown. It was good. Feet-angled so that his weight was balanced and arms raised, bit, never too high. Cy thought he was too hard on himself by half. He wanted instant results, but she knew from personal experience that this took time. Patience. Dedication. If it weren’t for Master Aegis constantly coaching and believing in her Cybelle thought she might have given up too.

If Bran could not believe in himself—She would do it for him.

A small smile touched the corners of her lips at his question about the Force. “Yes—And no. The Dark Side is an extreme form of that but the Force is omnipresent. Ah, universal, in a sense. It can be heavier than anything you’ve ever felt but it can also be lighter than air. When Jedi question their teachings and lose their way…The Dark Side tricks them into thinking that it's some sort of missing piece with all the answers. It isn’t.”

“Think of the Force as a mountain rising from the water. The dark side is the part submerged, beneath, all covered in scum and ick. If you decide to dive in, the slime will trap you. Try and keep you down and eventually drown you. What I mean by swallow, really, is just that it’s a lot. It can be overwhelming on any side of the spectrum. Just in different ways.”

Cybelle had read all the warnings about the Light and Dark that the Shore had to offer in the vast Archives that were maintained. She understood that Jedi must serve all, not a select few, but the stories of Ashla and Bogan were so out of date. So out of touch. She couldn’t help but wonder if the truth of events had been distorted through time. Oddly enough, doing exactly what she had just warned Bran against. It was all a matter of perspective.

Bran began the training program again in earnest and keen eyes watched him closely. He got two shots, that time. His movements had been fluid, smooth, until he missed the third and seemed to lose focus. From there his success seemed to tumble while he tried to catch up and Cybelle called for the haptic training droid to stop firing. He wouldn’t get anywhere like that. “Bran—Hey!”

“Hey.”, she repeated, lighter, gentler and padded back into the training circle to take off the helmet. Cy set it down on the ground and reached out to grasp his shoulders as if her firm presence might provide him some sort of center. Brown eyes were soft when they met his and full of infinite care. As if she had all the time in the world to wait for him to catch up. Maybe, she did. “It’s okay.”

“You’re doing better than I did the first or tenth time. I couldn’t deflect a single shot the first time I tried. It took me loads and loads of practice.”

Through her hands, direct contact, she washed away the mild discomfort he felt from the stinging bolts and offered him a smile. She’d gotten a little better at that. Healing—Where it didn’t put her flat on her back for hours at a time. Taking care of non-existent wounds? Easy. “I can’t believe you’re doing so well.”

“Whenever something starts to frustrate you, take a moment. Close your eyes and focus on the Force—Feel your way through it until you find…”, Cybelle struggled for the word that might encapsulate how she felt when she meditated and shifted from one foot to the other. Still, squeezing his shoulders. “Peace. There’s this feeling you get when you know you’ve done it right.”

“It’s like…Bubbly clarity. Like, everything will be okay. And suddenly you can breathe again. Everything just makes so much sense.”

She was no Master. Not even a Knight, yet. But it was their duty to share their gifts, wasn't it? Why shouldn't she share what she had with Bran when he so obviously wanted to know?

 

[Baros Sal-Soren]

This had been going on too long. Baros had peppered the security officers on the Estate with questions until he had found out possible weaknesses in their arrangement. Apparently one of the guards had been befriended by Brandyn, and the younger Sal-Soren had used this friendship as a means of getting out of the Estate and going gods knew where.

Aboard one of the Estates security speeders with several security personal, Baros pondered what it was that could have kept his son so determined to escape - beyond the feeling of being trapped that Baros could more than understand. His escapes had ramped up recently, and this week he was already on his second such adventure. Baros' ability to overlook this safety breach was over. His son would be protected from himself, even if Baros became the bad guy in the process.

As the open-air speeder landed in the quaint Naboo countryside, just outside of a small town, Baros spied his son and a young woman. Like father, like son. Baros scrunched his nose. There was something about his son being as frivolous in his love-life as he had been for so long that made Baros feel a little queasy. He had hoped better for Brandyn. He had to admit though, it appeared that it was the girl that was making all the advances from what he could see.

Baros jumped out of the speeder just before it landed, and security followed after him shortly after the speeder landed. Baros was stalking towards the two youngsters, even as he noted his son backing away from the girl, and staring at his father with a mix of fear, anger and embarassment.

"Brandyn. Get in the speeder. We will talk later," Baros said with a soft, but authoritative tone.

It was only then that he noted the equipment associated with Force User training. Baros' demeanor hardened. So this was not just about puppy-love? It's a Jedi thing too?

Brandyn was protesting, glancing back to the girl whom he identified as Cybelle. "Get in the speeder or you will be escorted there," Baros said to his son, who responded with stunned silence and heated cheeks. Brandyn paused for a moment, pushing Baros to nearly call over a guard, but then he relented when he realized his father would not relent. Several words were muttered as Brandyn shoved past one of the guards.

Once Brandyn was safely in the speeder, Baros indicated that a few guards should join him, lest his son decide that a joyride in the speeder was in order. Baros then made a couple of steps towards the young woman. She was a typically pretty young one. Naboo was full of them. He smiled.

"Cybelle, is it?" He said, but did not await a response, "I do recall you visiting the estate some years ago. Is this how Brandyn knew you? Nevermind...it is of no consequence."

He looked away from the girl, about the humble locale that seemed to house many an individual. Was this an orphanage? He looked back at the girl, no small amount of compassion oddly crossing his face.

"I thank you for being Brandyn's friend, but I ask that you refrain from seeing him any longer. Force training is against my wishes. He knows this. And now you know also. Do not attempt to make contact with him. Do not write. Do not call. Do not undermine me," he said slowly, cautiously with the compassion slowly fading to become dogged resolve, "I will undoubtedly be hated by Brandyn...for a while. But then...he will forget about you, and he will find someone else. Do not grieve long, Cybelle, what you felt was merely a shadow of true love. You will find someone more suited to yourself one day."

He turned to leave.

"Farewell, Jedi."

| Cybelle Sal-Soren |​

 

[Cybelle Sal-Soren]

N A B O O
Tag: Brandyn Sal-Soren ? Baros Sal-Soren
Age: 16
Location: Spritegate Shore (Two Months Later)
_________________________________________________________​

She shouldn't have been so focused on Brandyn that she hadn't felt others arriving. Not that it would have mattered. Jedi, villagers, farmers, medics, soldiers, and all manner of people passed through the Shore at any given time. It was a place of Light. A place to heal—Where the world could be so unthinkingly cruel without even the intervention of malice. The aftermath of a tornado or a water spout held no hate toward the people it displaced, but it left them bereft and homeless all the same.

The feeling of Bran backing away from her so abruptly left her with the strangest sensation.

It took Cybelle a moment to realize. It hurt.

"I—"

She tried to respond to the rapid-fire questions. Cybelle was honest to a fault. Should she not answer?

"I—"

Baros Sal-Soren looked the very same as she remembered. Stern, authoritative—But in the moment she could not fathom the quiet consideration she remembered as a child. Words were twined together in such a way that it made her eyes sting against her will. He smiled and she took a step back. Rather than to warm or disarm her it felt infinitely cold. Cybelle should have sensed him.

She should have remembered.

The Corellian would find the clean-faced Hapan blinking, confused, and wounded. She might have been dressed like a Jedi but she was still a youngling. Still, a young woman that hadn't even placed a thought toward half of the assumptions he put forward. Her heart leaped to her throat at the terse instructions not to contact Bran whatsoever and she could feel her hands begin to shake. Cybelle wasn't used to being caught this off guard, nor, was she used to being treated with such blatant disregard.

At the mention of love, her cheeks flushed and tears began to fall unbidden. "We weren't—"

//. . .in love. . .//​

The thought of Brandyn forgetting all about her as his father wished hit her harder than he might have intended. Or, exactly as intended. He spoke of things that Cybelle hadn't yet realized. It surprised and shocked her into pure silence. Someone…Suited? She bit her lower lip as the overbearing man extricated himself from the conversation and the trembling seemed to worsen. The small bit of effervescent light to the Shore seemed to have suddenly winked out. She felt like a puppet with cut strings. Hollow, on the inside.

Jedi couldn't, love. Jedi couldn't find someone more suited. At least, they weren't supposed to.

Brandyn was her friend. Her only friend. The only one who cared to listen, to stay, even when years apart drew them into different worlds. Cybelle had only wanted to help him as he helped her. This closeness was all she would, or could, ever have.

Some level of strength pulled through and she blinked back the obvious pain with a stalwart expression. They were young—but they were not so young that basic processing did not apply. She was trying to retain some semblance of the composure she had been taught but it was difficult to do. Her mind was spinning. The elder Sal-Soren had less than implied a lot and it shoved too many gears into hyper speed. She was embarrassed, hurt, and stunned. Chocolate eyes looked past the retreating form of the father and felt like things would be…Worse, if Bran could see. How it hurt her.

How, suddenly, Baros Sal-Soren had made everything crystal clear.

Her head hung low but she remained where she was, unmoving, as reality settled in and she tried to be strong for them both. She was a Jedi. Bran…Bran would never escape the thumb of his father no matter how he tried. Cybelle would never be anything more than a deluded, heretical street-rat to the elder Sal-Soren. Not the prim, proper little girl that had been introduced to his children. Her shoulders jumped as she hiccupped against her will. They tightened, further, while she could hear the speeder moving further away.

Cybelle moved back to the training circle and picked up the helmet, still warm, and held it to her chest while valiantly fighting small sniffles. She eventually sank down to the ground and her legs crossed where she might hold the object. Trying, to sort through what happened. Trying to accept it. There had never been any chance. Not even, the chance to say goodbye.

The weather above the Shore changed and a light rain began to fall.

Perhaps this was why, a Jedi, should never fall in love.