From the Darkness

[Kriel Firin]

Before Talon Ren was a Knight of Ren – before he was Talon Ren – he was a young man. He was troubled and had many imperfections. Here, at the Citadel and at other training venues in First Order space, he had learned about the Force – and moreover about himself.

Now it was the only world he knew – and it fell to him to instruct new Disciples in the way he’d been trained. To teach them what he could – and expect them to learn for themselves what he could not. For overcoming their fears, prejudices and failings was the role of the learner, not the tutor. He would draw attention when necessary. He would help of course – it was in the nature of the Knights of Ren to enable Disciples to succeed. They were not callous like the Sith who allowed the unworthy to die rather than help – but nor were they the Jedi who molly-coddled their charges.

So he stood in the cavernous main hall of the Citadel. Most Disciples were trained elsewhere but this one had been identified as a suitable student for Kriel to work with and so he’d instructed she would meet him here. Both to ascertain her suitability and to begin her training. This was where he spent most of his time, so he needed any potential Acolytes nearby.

And duly she arrived. He stood there in his standard armour and mask. The latter was both traditional and in his case worn to cover significant burns he’d endured as a result of a ship crash. He could survive without the armour and mask but at a cost to his health and it was also a drain on his use of the Force.
So his voice sounded mechanical and almost emotionless. This was never a bad thing when it came to impressing on a new student the gravity of the relationship. He would ensure they succeeded but he would also push them to where they were capable of – not simply where they wanted to be.

“The dark side has taken an interest in you. That is fortunate. Both for you and for the Knights of Ren.” He remained stationery, his eyes fixed on hers – although all she would be able to see was that his visor was directly pointed towards her face. “You have been given the designation Disciple. Today you become my student and one day you may become my apprentice.”

He raised a hand, cutting off any initial response.

“I suspect you believe you know what I mean by that. Perhaps? I suspect you only think you do. But soon there will be no doubt what I mean. Initially we will undertake some training. Tests even. Time and the Force will inform me of your destiny.”

From the folds of his robe he produced two lightsabers, tossing one of them to her before igniting the blade of his own and adopting a ready stance. “And given time is an issue, let’s not waste any.”

[member=Ara Ren"]

 

[Ara Zambrano]

Her footfalls echoed in the vast cavern of a main hall. The Citadel was not a place she'd been familiar with long, it was maybe her second trip here, aside from the day she'd decided to join the Knights of Ren. She chose to approach the masked and armored figured directly, rather than skirt the sides of the room as her instincts had worn into her. She was no longer the street rat scavenging for anything worth a few credits - she was taking the power given to her at birth and using it.

Ara had pulled her hair back away from her face and tied it off, a rare change. Her chunky boots were well worn and easy to move in. A dark pair of skin tight pants, vest, and shirt completed the outfit. Every stitch of clothing was chosen to show off her lean and toned body. She'd learned to use her body to her advantage, and she DID look good.

Talon Ren stood before her in full armor and mask. As she approached, she didn't bother to hide a cursory inspection of her trainer. She frowned when very little of his appearance could be discerned through the heavy folds of robe and dark visor of a mask. The girl stopped a few feet away as he turned his attention to her.

“And given time is an issue, let’s not waste any.”

She caught the saber hilt tossed in her direction deftly and took a moment to balance it in her hand, feeling the weight, heft, and distribution of the weapon. It was only the second time she'd held a saber, the first being an event she didn't care to repeat any time soon. At least not until she had a saber of her own. Jedi typically did not agree with anyone attempting to relieve them of their blades.

Igniting her own blade, she smiled as the glow and heat light up her features. Assuming a defensive stance, the girl held the saber as she would any large blade she'd managed to use in the past. A slight bow signaled her readiness to begin. "After you." Time was of an issue after all, and talk just wasted time.

[member="Kriel Firin"]

 

[Kriel Firin]

Kriel was relatively patient but he did not suffer fools gladly. Questions were tolerated if they were positive and took the learner in the direction of travel, but not mindless challenges or pointless sidebars. In fact he encouraged questions if they filled in gaps or enlightened a student – these were not the Sith who might discard an acolyte for challenging a teacher – but nor were they Jedi, with endless patience and a disposition to wrap a Padawan in cotton wool.

The Disciple in front of him met his approval. Once upon a time he would have seen her in an entirely different guise – before his disfigurement and his ascension to Knight. Since then, his intentions were strictly business. And besides, she was not truly his type. He preferred women who didn’t know how good they looked. This one he suspected not only knew, but played upon it. In a fight or a mission, she could use that to her advantage – just not against him.

And he was pleased she did not shy away from the immediacy of the challenge. These were not training sabers per se, but they had been set to a low power setting. Nasty burns and bruises would entail, not a loss of limb. And more akin to Sith than Jedi, he would not hold back in his blows. That was no way to teach in his experience.

“What Forms have you learned,” he asked as he probed her defences. No great pace or power yet, he wanted to get the measure of her. He investigated all three rings of defence, keen to see if she’d been trained appropriately and knew how to block and parry and which was the proper way to defend.

[member="Ara Ren"]

 

[Ara Zambrano]

Ara readied herself for a spar and took up the defensive. As her opponent moved in, she'd dance out, her feet moving surely and swiftly. Her strength lay in avoidance, rather than direct attack. Years of fending for herself on the street had taught her the benefit of a good dodge or counter move, waiting for openings to end an engagement quickly but fairly. She was smaller and weaker than most opponents, but faster and more nimble. She was used to using her environment to her advantage, moving to cause her opponent to have to content with rubble and uneven terrain. In the hall, there was none. She was forced to wait and listen for small shifts of weight that would give away a feint or turn.

After one such move, she took a chance, parrying an attack with one of her own. She treated the saber as one would a makeshift staff rather than a sword. She had more experience with improvised weapons than actual.

"What Forms have you learned?"

"None. I'm self-taught." She attempted to parry one of Talon Ren's blows, wincing as it blocked the move, but barely. "Until now, that is."

She hissed as his saber glanced across her upper arm, leaving a stinging line of pain. Ara moved, blocking a blow more solidly this time. Shifting back out of the reach of his saber, the disciple resumed her initial stance and looked at a point in the hall just beyond his shoulder. She focused not on his body language, but on the subtle sounds of cloth shifting. She listened, waiting for the tell-tale sign of movement.

[member="Kriel Firin"]

 

[Kriel Firin]

Kriel probed and explored Ara’s capabilities, as opposed to looking to directly engage her in a duel. It was, in his experience, the quickest way to find out what someone knew. Asking invariably gave a false answer – some were modest whereas others overemphasised their prowess. It was an entirely practical activity and no amount of talking would help you understand competence – or improve it.
He noted her comfortable stance – she was used to fighting clearly – and that was often the hardest part to teach. Instincts were, by definition, not easily trained and so she had a head-start over many Disciples.

And in addition, she knew how to play to her strengths. She was small and so relied on speed and agility – rather than trying to fight powerfully. Again, it took many Disciples too long to understand their natural style and too often railed against nature. Nature invariably won.

He also noted she was focused on his movements – not his saber – which was also promising. Yes, the saber was often what did the damage, but legs, hips and arms often gave hints as to what was coming and feet and hands were often used as weapons. Too often a Disciple was so focused on the shiny blade that they did not notice their feet being swept from under them.

On the debit side? She wielded the saber like it was a club. In truth the blade was an instrument and the Knight was the weapon, but the saber was a unique means of fighting. It was one that relied on the Force to fully utilise and until a Disciple was one with the Force, it was little more than the crude weapon Ara was effectively wielding.

Her admission she was self-taught was no more than he expected to hear. It was not a negative exactly, it simply told him what he needed to teach her.

“Don’t block, parry.” His commands were delivered in an even voice. They carried authority but were not admonishments. “If you block a powerful blow, there is every likelihood the kinetic energy will shatter a bone in your arm. Especially since you are less powerful than the average Jedi. Learn to deflect and parry and you can use your natural pace to counter before your opponent has recovered.”

“And deflect outside – away from the body. It gives less chance for them to quickly counter.” He scored a quick hit on her upper arm by way of an example.

He held up a hand to signify a pause in the lesson. “We must start with defence. More specifically the three rings.”

He quickly showed her how and where to intercept an opponent’s saber. The outer ring had four guard positions at the upper right; upper left; lower right and lower left. “Use these for heavy blows.”

Then he moved to the middle ring: high, low, left and right. “For use against quicker blows before they intersect with the body. Also used against blaster bolts.”

Finally, he showed the inner ring of defense, “For when an opponent lunges at you.” He kept his lightsaber close to his body, with his hilt covering his navel. The tip of the blade was angled so that attacks could be picked up on its lower third, then to be shunted aside. “A dangerous place to defend from, given how close it is to the body but it’s excellent to counter from – especially to the stomach or chest.”

“Now attack me, I’ll only defend.” He planned to show her how the parries worked in practice before allowing her to practise. As he did he said, “From what I see, you’re best learning the second Form first. What do you know of it, if anything?”

[member="Ara Ren"]

 

[Ara Zambrano]

As her instructor motioned for a pause in their exercise, Ara took the chance to catch a breath. She was far from winded, but the exercise of wielding the blade was more taxing than she was used to. As he instructed her in each ring of defense, she mimicked his movements. The outer ring positions felt the most comfortable to her, she'd used the same form to counter attacks with staves in the past.

The middle rings positions seemed stiff and awkward at first. The girl ran through the positions multiple times until her muscles relaxed and accepted the new arm and body movements. By no means perfect, but they no longer felt alien to her body. The inner ring gave her pause. She held her saber, mirroring his. Eyes narrowing as she imagined an opponent lunging, she moved, imagining the blade sliding off her own and executed a quick slice to the imaginary rib cage. Satisfied that she was at least familiar with each position, she straighten and lowered her blade to her side.

"The second form, also known as Makashi, is best for speed. And movement." The disciple grinned wolfishly. Taking the moment to flick her hair back over her shoulder and ensure it was secure in its ties before continuing.

Other than names and basic descriptions, she knew little about the forms. The few battles she'd observed were messes of survival, anger, and battle. A blur of motion and strikes so fast, she'd hardly been able to follow along, much less identify different movement patterns.

"Speed and movement are all well and good for avoidance and defense, how can I use them to my advantage when attacking? These aren't knives that are easy to conceal and move with, how can I prevent their size from hindering me?"

She ran through each of the rings again before taking up a ready stance. She paused for his answer before launching into attacks. She'd adjusted her grip on the saber as shown and allowed her body to dictate her moves. A strike to the upper right, followed quickly by a step back and a feint to his rib cage. She focused on how he moved to deflect and parry as she'd been told.

[member="Kriel Firin"]

 

[Kriel Firin]

Kriel gave nods by way of encouragement as she began the long process of learning how to fight with a saber.

“You have a basic knowledge, which is good. And therefore you understand why I mentioned the Form. You should invariably play to your strengths. There are other Forms that will complement your natural abilities and that you can learn in time – but the second is the one I shall start with. Now in fact.”

He continued to spar with her, increasing the pace and alternating the role of attack and defence, so she better understood both how to defend and what it felt like to be defended against. She would understand when she left herself open to a counter or if she failed to stop the momentum of an attack and remained the defender.

“Many Jedi prefer to wear their opponents out. To allow them to tire and share the extent of their repertoire before taking the initiative. A simplification, but it is how Younglings are taught. Jedi are typically risk-averse. Sith are – on the whole – more likely to press the attack. Neither is right and neither is therefore wrong. It is the circumstance that will dictate the best approach. Never assume you can dominate your environment. Your opponent’s ability, the terrain, your health or freshness – these all are variables to take into consideration.”

“And right now the only non-variable is your inability to use the Force to fight. It must become part of the duel, not an accessory to it. Anyone can pick up a saber and wave it around. To use it the way a Knight of Ren does requires a connection to the Force.”

“That is what you currently lack and why you ask these questions.”

Kriel was about to begin his instruction of the second Form but instead he halted the spar. Producing a silk from a pocket, he instructed Ara to blindfold herself with it.

“Your muscles now know what to do, and now you rely on them. You need to unlearn what you have learned. It is the Force you must pay attention to. Better still, allow it to guide you. That is how I fight. I command the Force and it instinctively moves me where I need to be to defend. This allows me to focus on my opponent and exposing their weaknesses.”

He reactivated his saber. “We will cycle through the rings once more. Slowly at first. Your eyes can deceive you, so we have taken them out of the equation. And do not trust your ears either. Trust only in the Force. Sense with it where my saber is and deflect it. Once you can let go of your natural instinct to be in control and allow the Force to guide you, your mastery of a saber will increase exponentially.”

And so he began…

[member="Ara Ren"]

 

[Ara Zambrano]

Ara focused on the movements she'd been taught, hissing when she failed to deflect the blade properly and side took the brunt of the resulting counter. As they sparred, he scored fewer hits, her body finding its own momentum. She knew the mass of bruises and burns she'd accumulated throughout the lesson would sting worse in the morning, but for now, she was focused on the masked man in front of her and his weapon.

With each series of movements, finding an opening and using it becoming easier. Where she spent the first few minutes being a defender alone, the end of the spar was a mix of defense, counters, and defense again. The strain of wielding a blade for so long was taking it's toll on her muscles, her arms and legs shaking slightly in strain. She pushed the aching from her mind as they continued, but was relieved nonetheless, when he paused.

She extinguished her own blade and looked at the produced silk in his hand. Her mouth quirked up in a sly smile.

“Your muscles now know what to do, and now you rely on them. You need to unlearn what you have learned. It is the Force you must pay attention to. Better still, allow it to guide you." The smile faded as she realized that he did not intend on testing her memory of the movements or even her skill at anticipating her opponent's movements through small changes in sound. No, he wanted her to use the force. The true reason she had joined the First Order and the Knights of Ren, to find a way to control and use the energy surrounding her. The energy only few had access to.

"How do you command it? How do you control it?" She frowned and took the piece of cloth from him, waiting for an answer before putting it on. Ara knew she was older than most Disciples and once again she cursed her mother for preventing her from learning how to harness the energy from a young age. A Jedi had found her once, long ago, and offered to take her to the temple to learn. Her mother, selfish bantha fodder that she was, refused. After all, with Ara gone, who would make the money to pay for her precious Spice addiction? The Jedi had left her there, in the scum and muck of Coruscant's Undercity, to scrap and scrounge for a living.

Self-serving sithspawn, she thought, her grip tightening on the handle of her blade. She felt the Force around her react to the angry and betrayal burning in her mind, the warm energy a cocoon swathing her in roiling, boiling power that she only needed to learn to control and use for her own will. It had been growing as they fought, it's presence a familiar comfort to the girl. A second skin she only knew how to coexist with, but not control.

She tied the fabric around her eyes as she listened to his answer and readied herself, the energy still collected, still waiting.

[member="Kriel Firin"]

 

[Kriel Firin]

She had natural ability. Kriel already knew that and of all of her strengths, that was the one that worried him most. Talented individuals often failed as Disciples. They believed their innate powers would be enough. These abilities often stood them apart from the average Disciple early on. But whereas the average acolyte trained, trained and then trained some more – the vain apprentices relied on what they had been gifted through genetics. And soon they were overtaken.

Ara was not just good – she knew she was good. Kriel had to break that false belief and then he could rebuild her fighting ability from scratch. Once she knew how to harness the Force and use it properly, her natural inclinations could augment her fighting. But not the other way around.

So she performed well, but tired easily. She was doing all of the work and not channelling the Force. He knew because he could sense it.
Finally, she understood. She questioned how to command the Force. Some Sith never explain. If the learner cannot work it out for themselves, they are deemed unworthy of training. Kriel was, however, a Knight of Ren.

“Yes,” he almost purred as he sensed the anger in her. “Emotions are what fuel your control of the Force. Anger and hate, these are the common ones and are powerful. One day I shall show you how to use fear. It is the most dangerous to control but in my experience the most powerful of emotions to use to harness the Force.”

“But for now latch on to that anger. Fuel it, hone it. Don’t just sense anger, think of what makes you angriest of all. Magnify it, multiply it.” He sensed she was learning quickly.

“Good, now command the Force to guide you. Demand it, don’t tell it. The Jedi ask permission of the Force but we are not Jedi. Bend the Force to your will and it will do your bidding.”

And with that he began to swing his saber at her. Slowly and gently at first but speeding up as he repeated the cycle of blows. If one got through it would only heighten her anger – it was in a training sense a win-win. And her physical tiredness would abate as she used the Force to defend against him. In time she would exhaust that too. The Force was infinite but a Knight’s ability to draw on it was not. But time and practice increased that reservoir and the power available to access. Today, however, was just day one.

[member="Ara Ren"]

 

[Ara Zambrano]

The silk around her eyes ensured that her world was dark, only sounds and the energy around her giving her insight into the movements of Kriel. Unlike most, the darkness did not unsettle or distress her. It was an old comfort, being unable to see in even low-light settings. She'd learned and adjusted throughout life until the darkness was as comforting to her as the full light of day. Ara shifted her grip on the hilt and reactivated her saber.

He wanted her to use and focus on the energy? That was easy. All she had to do was think about the woman who had used her through her childhood, the one person who should have protected and sheltered her, the person who had only taught Ara one thing, that everyone would use you. She smiled as the anger rolled over her, the force energy surrounding her buckling and rolling with it. It was a warm ember deep in her core, sharpening her focus and strengthening her drive.

She opened herself to the energy, accepting it as a second skin. He'd said to demand it, but she didn't know how. A shifted weight of the foot and a rustle of fabric clued her into his first swing, she met it at the outer ring, just as she'd bee taught. She frowned as she realized that she had depended on her hearing and not the force to meet his blade. Again and again she did so, growing more and more angry with herself, the rage and disappointment fueling the power around her.

For a moment, her frustration overtook her focus and she failed to counter a strike, the sting of the blade matching the sting of embarrassment to her ego, her cheeks coloring red, her mouth in a tight line. She resisted the urge to curse the exercise outright, knowing that her teacher would not be impressed by the litany of curses coming to mind. Instead she cursed inward, reprimanding herself for her failings and for allowing such a simple exercise to infuriate her so. After two more hits landed, she let out a wordless yell, almost a growl and almost called an end to the spar.

The energy enveloping her rolled and snapped, waiting, willing her to use it. She depended too much on herself, never truly letting it work with her, fighting against it until it was another barrier. Nearing her temper's breaking point, she let out another wordless growl, willing, no telling the energy to do something, anything or to leave her alone completely. The energy moved, and she moved with it, letting out a surprised gasp as her saber met his. Without thinking she shifted with the force around her again, deflecting another of his strikes without thinking. "Oh." She hardly had time to say anything more as she allowed it to guide her to meet another strike.

[member="Kriel Firin"]

 

[Kriel Firin]

Kriel was familiar with the process. When he’d first been made aware of his abilities, he’d found that being in an emotional state had helped – and that reflecting on when he’d clearly used the Force subconsciously, it had again been when he was angry or fearful.
And he was also practised now in tapping into that reservoir of emotions, feelings and memories without conscious thought. But he knew that his apprentice would have to learn that technique and that by provoking her emotions he would help in the short-term. For it was similar to a muscle memory – at least that’s how it worked for Kriel. He was never sure how many Knights operated the same way and how many used a different technique. What mattered was the outcome – not the means by which it was reached. Ara would learn what worked best for her. It was not that he did not want to help – rather she needed to identify how it was for her.

He sensed the emotions bubbling and how that allowed Ara to tap into the dark-side of the Force. Just as Jedi best accessed the light-side of the Force when calm and devoid of thoughts and emotions, dark-siders were the exact opposite. Which made perfect sense after all.
And he imagined the volume of dark-sided energy she was experiencing was more than enough to work with. In time she would call upon it, demand its presence. For now, she was enticing it. It was a start – and the beginning they all experience. And unlike Jedi, for whom doubt clouded their ability with the Force, it seemed to fuel the Sith and the Knights of Ren. The negative emotion was a greater magnet for the Force to latch on to – as was the sense of failure. It became a self-fulfilling dynamism of its own.

She struggled. It was inevitable in the learning process. To let go of years of training and experience and rely entirely on an ethereal guide was a difficult ask. But if she was to progress, it was a leap of faith she had to make. And she would, he was sure of it. What she encountered now, every apprentice faced at some point. But soon she would find her way and in time wonder how she ever failed to make the connection easily.

His part was to press on. To keep up the pace and not give her an easy time of it. These were training sabers. The bruises and burns would heal in time. The embarrassment of failure would sting most right now but be the swiftest to fade.

Anger, pain, frustration – this negative cocktail fuelled her progress but she was not yet over the line. And then she added desperation and this significant factor took her past the point of no return. From flailing wildly, she met his blow. Which, of course, could have been a coincidence. But not the second or the third.

It was as if a switch had been thrown and he kept up the rotation. It was important she did not forget the feeling – she needed to replicate it without all of the prompts. In a real fight, she would be dead by now. But soon she would be able to call upon the Force in an instant. Initially by focussing on a negative emotion no doubt. And then simply by will. Emotions always fuelled the power – that never went away. But in time she did not need to experience them – she would just need to remember them.

With a wave of his hand, an invisible Force snatched at the blindfold and it was lifted from her eyes as he faced her. “Excellent. Now, when you parry, immediately attack me. Listen to the Force. Allow it to guide you in the same way. In time you will build up standard combinations of moves. Single strikes are rarely enough. But Makashi is the one Form where you can progress most quickly with single blows. The key is pace – to keep moving and to never over-commit.”

Considering his size, he deftly demonstrated. He moved forwards and backwards. It was obvious that this movement did not allow an opponent to settle into a range. And by holding the saber with one hand (the Makashi way), his reach was immediately greater than the average saber user who held the saber with two hands. It was a style more akin to a standard fencer.

He returned to his usual stance and delivered a sweeping blow, from his right and towards her left hip.

[member="Ara Ren"]

 

[Ara Zambrano]

Ara straightened as the fabric was ripped away from her eyes. She blinked rapidly, the world filled with light and shadows, a moment of adjustment needed. She listened dutifully as he explained, her sight clearing in time to watch as he demonstrated the moves he spoke of. The quick shifts forwards and backwards reminded her of knife fights on Coruscant. Moving in an out, weaving away to keep out of range of the opponent's weapon. It was like a well choreographed dance, with turns and subtle shifts in movement to keep distance and control.

She smiled wickedly, loving the flow and speed of the form already. When he shifted his grip on the saber to one-handed, she adjusted as well, the new weight and position of the handle feeling foreign to the disciple. She practiced a few small movements, feeling the new distribution of weight and resistance and accounting for it. She cycled through each of the three rings, focusing on holding the saber with only one hand and imagining the force and resistance of another blade impacting each strike.

Stopping her practice, she squared off to her teacher and prepared for a new series of strikes. This time, she would trust the energy that guided her before but she would need to use it. Parry and attack, that was the follow up. His blade swung up in an arc, aiming for her hip. She felt the move as she saw it, her arm snapping up to meet his blow.

Unlike before, she did not allow her movement to stop there. He'd said to attack and so she would. A quick flick of her wrist deflected his blade away, leaving one side open momentarily. She moved, slicing at a diagonal towards the opposite side as he'd attacked. Her footwork moved her into his range, but as he had demonstrated earlier, she shifted backwards as soon as he met her attack.

[member="Kriel Firin"]

 

[Kriel Firin]

Kriel was demonstrating but his eyes never left his apprentice. He noted her attention – it was intense. She would have noted not only his generic advice but the subtleties of movement and he sensed a familiarity within her. This was a tipping point. If she was used to fighting, then she could use much of what she knew to her advantage. Like balance and speed of movement. Even feinting and tactics were transferrable. But she had to add it to her new found ability – and not the other way around. If she thought like a street-urchin, she would fight like one. Kriel knew, he’d gone through the same learning curve. She had to think like a Knight of Ren – and only then would she battle like one.

He sensed – and saw – her appreciation. Some were born to fight, and he was sure he’d found one such student.

And he was patient as she came to terms with holding the saber one-handed. He was pleased to note that the Force still ran through her, helping to guide her movements. Her move to parry his effort was an illustration of this. Her conscious mind was clearly focused on the counter and she allowed the Force to manage the parry for her.

And no sooner had she deflected his blade than she responded with pace – the two moves appearing as one to the untrained eye. He did not attempt to defend himself. Instead he took the blow and smiled behind his mask.

“And so your training begins,” he said and took a couple of steps back. He then raised his saber in the traditional Makashi salute and extended his arm with a flourish. He then began a series of attacks, one-handed. His feet never stopped moving as he moved forwards and backwards and from side to side. He rarely threw a single strike, it was invariably a couple of blows and a number of fenits were thrown in too. It was a typical Makashi performance – hit and run, with an expectation you would tire your opponent and through regular though small wounds, weaken them. His attacks were relentless but controlled – sacrificing power for control and accuracy.

[member="Ara Ren"]

 

[Ara Zambrano]

The disciple's eyes widened slightly as she scored a hit. She narrowed them, mouth quirking into an bemused smile as she realized he must have allowed it. She allowed herself a momentary, internal victory dance, keeping her outside from showing anything more than appreciation of the improvement.

"And so your training begins," She straightened and stepped back, mirroring his salute and movements a second behind him. The energy flowing through her pulsed as she met his first attack. His pace and movements were faster and more precise than they'd been before, Ara spent most of her energy and time, deflecting and moving to dodge his blows.

Her eyes and ears struggled to keep up with predicting his next move and she found herself relying on the force to dictate where her blade moved. The first feint he executed, scored a hit on her side, the frustration of messing up resulting in a botched foot movement and a sloppy parry, one she almost missed altogether. Growling slightly, she launched herself back into the spar.

Ara moved, watching for an opening to attempt an attack of her own. As he moved away after one flurry of strikes, she moved, her blade slicing at his side followed quickly by a sweeping blow to the other. She mimicked her earlier foot pattern, dancing into his range and out as quickly as she could execute her blows. She let out a small laugh at the thrill of the pace, falling into the old feeling of street fights and avoidance. This was far more exhilarating. Although longer and more difficult than the stave and knife work she'd done in her past, the energy flowing through her bolstered her and spurred her on. It guided her movements and sang in her blood, like a muscle she never knew she had was finally being stretched and used.

It felt like a good run, exhausting, difficult, and leaving her muscles sore and stinging, but her core felt renewed and energized. She was panting, but grinning as they fought.

[member="Kriel Firin"]

 

[Kriel Firin]

A Jedi would take months to get a Padawan to a level where they could defend themselves in a fight. They cosseted the student. A Sith might well try to cut the Acolyte to pieces, on the basis that only the fittest survive. Kriel took neither approach. He pressed hard – just beyond Ara’s capabilities. It stretched her but did not overwhelm her. And as she developed, he would increase the challenge. It was tough but it was never brutal.

Soon her footwork was precise, swift. Kriel himself was a big man and his strength was his power. He would never make a master of Makashi – but he knew enough to teach. And he would show her all of the Forms in time – not least so she knew how each one attacked and defended – to know your enemy was invariably half the battle.

Her next progression was to parry and counter. She was immersed in the Force sufficiently enough to allow it to guide her defence, allowing her time to consciously watch his patterns of attack and plan a suitable riposte.

She was enjoying it, clearly. Most Disciples learned more quickly this way – but from time to time the pace and challenge had to be sufficient to make life a little uncomfortable. Even the Jedi had their trials – and deaths were not unheard of at this stage.

But for now he was pleased she was making good progress. Every now and then she’d breach his defences and score a hit.

He knew the Force was fuelling her level of activity beyond her usual reserves and sooner or later she would falter – the Force was infinite but a Disciple’s capability to draw on it was not. Nor was a Knight’s for that matter, it was just greater than a Disciple. But this is where an aspect of Sith training came in – and the Jedi were not immune to it either. For duels didn’t just happen when you were well rested and fed. Kriel often trained in the middle of the night, or for three days without rest. If he came across a Jedi or Sith, he wanted to have every edge available and stamina was one factor that was often overlooked.

So he pushed and pressed. He didn’t change the exercise, he simply upped the tempo – and then changed it around to keep the training interesting. And even behind his mask, he was sweating – this was in truth a work-out for both of them.

[member="Ara Ren"]

 

[Ara Zambrano]

As he changed the tempo, Ara struggled to keep up, sacrificing smooth, quick footwork for sloppy stumbling steps to keep out of range. Her arms and legs ached, but the Force fueled her onwards, her movements still guided by the energy that knew where his blade would be before her eyes or ears did. The rhythym kept her going far beyond where she would have stopped on her own, until he changed that too.

Surprise widened her eyes as she met an unexpected blow to her side, barely managing to delfect the strike and failing to follow up with her own attack. She narrowed her eyes, angry that such a simple thing could throw her off so easily and continued sparring with renewed focus.

Each series of parries and attacks became slower, easier to anticipate, and even easier to deflect. She was panting heavily, her lungs and muscles reaching the point of exhaustion even as she willed them onward with a ferocity born of desperation. Ara stumbled, taking a hit to the back of her shoulder, the first hit he had scored in a while. In the moments it took her to recover, another attack struck home as his blade slid off of hers instead of the block she'd intended.

Struggling to grasp the Force energy, her block fell wide, leaving her open to any number of attacks. She waited for his admonishments even as she brought her blade around, too late to guard against another swing. The Force was still humming around her, but every time she attempted to use it, it alluded her mental gasp, taunting her with her inability to harness the power again. Lungs and chest heaving, she paused, waiting.

[member="Kriel Firin"]

 

[Kriel Firin]

Kriel maintained the pressure. It was important to see how a Disciple fared when things were adverse and it was far more an indicator of future success than when things were faring less well. His own Knighthood trials were a case in point. He was pushed to the point of exhaustion before he faced his final challenge. Had his training been less rigorous, he could easily have given up. But his intensive schedule had prepared him for the worst and that was precisely what he endured – and overcame.

What mattered now was that she did not give up. He was pleased she did not ask to stop or for a rest. That showed spirit and was the one thing you could not train. Her bladework could be improved over time. Her ability to draw on the Force would develop as she progressed. But her heart and will were much harder to train.

Finally Kriel deactivated his saber. As the hiss-snap signalled the end of the spar, he bowed slightly to her. “I do not approve of bowing and scraping. Not as an automatic response at least. But as a mark of respect? From time to time it is appropriate. Such as now. I commend you for your spirit and work ethic. These, along with time spent training, will be your greatest allies.”

“Sparring will become a daily ritual, and tomorrow you will begin to learn how to manipulate the Force. For the remainder of today, you can find your room, acclimatise yourself and rest. Now, do you have any questions?”

[member="Ara Ren"]

 

[Ara Zambrano]

Ara raised an eyebrow, eyes widening in surprise at his praise. She could comment on will born of hard days and nights on the street but chose to remain silent. She doubted he cared why she would push herself to the limits of her ability, but merely appreciated the fact that she would. She bowed slightly in return, also out of respect.

"Two questions. The first, what do I call you?" She suspected he knew her name, home planet, and any other information she'd given the order. He was an enigma, the mysterious knight who had taken on the task of training a new, untested disciple. Whether it be a name or title, she needed something.

"The second..." She quirked a grin and let a bit of the mischievousness that had vanished during their duel leak back into her demeanor, "Where can I take a nice bath?" Bathing pools and the like were the one true luxury she took advantage of every chance she got. Years of dirt and grime had been constant companions her entire childhood. Once she had enough funds to afford her own lodging, a bathing pool of her own was a necessity.

[member="Kriel Firin"]

 

[Kriel Firin]

Kriel’s body knew he’d had a workout. His breathing was definitely affected by the spar and were it not for the vocaliser in his mask, it would have been apparent. And the slight burn in his limbs was also a tell for him, but once more, his Disciple would be none the wiser.
He noted her mark of respect and then considered her questions.

“You may call me Talon Ren. You may also call me Master if you wish. I am comfortable with either. And I shall refer to you as Ara Ren. Who you were is irrelevant now, all that matters is who you have become. Our real names are a link to a time before the First Order and are also a potential distraction. We are not individuals in the way we once were. Now we are part of a whole that is significantly greater than the sum of its parts.”

He took slightly longer to consider the second request. Due to his injuries, a bath was not something he could enjoy – nor a shower. His body was cleaned by med-droids and it was a painful process. But he used that discomfort to his own advantage as it fuelled his connection to the dark-side. “Each room has en-suite facilities – but I understand only showers are provided as a rule. It is not something I have ever had to consider before. My advice is to ask whoever allocates the rooms if there is one with a bath attached. If not, there may be communal bathing arrangements.”

“No, if there are no more questions, I need to identify a suitable first mission for us to undertake. And we can train on the way there, there is much for you to learn.”

[member="Ara Ren"]

 

[Ara Zambrano]

Ara nodded once, smiling and rolling the sound of the name around in her mind. Her old name was nothing more than a memory and had been for years. She had no need of that person, the child she was before.

"I look forward to it....Master." The word was a weight on her tongue, two syllables she'd have to get used to using. It was not an unwelcome weight, she had never had someone to take interest in her, attempt to build her into something stronger than she was before. Part of her waited to see whether he'd deem her unworthy, the other part swore never to allow that to happen.

She stepped forward, offering the hilt of the saber he'd lent her for the training. Her breathing was still ragged, sweat clung to her body and clothes. For once she regretted her decision to wear tight, form fighting clothes. They merely held the sweat to her body, her skin damp with the signs of the workout she'd just been through.

[member="Kriel Firin"]