Bloom
Violet Charr had discovered that one of the easiest ways to lose track of time was to place something unfamiliar in front of her and allow her curiosity to take over. Traveling beyond Kesh had only provided considerably more opportunities to prove it. The martial sanctuary had been intended as one stop among several during her time on the planet, an old retreat built high into the mountains where generations of travelers had come to train and exchange techniques gathered from across the galaxy. She had expected to spend an afternoon there. Instead, evening was already beginning to settle beyond the broad transparisteel windows.
The sanctuary blended its old stone construction with the conveniences of the modern galaxy. Recessed lighting illuminated corridors leading into training halls equipped with holographic displays, programmable remotes, sparring circles, and racks of practice weapons belonging to traditions Violet knew little or nothing about. She had dressed comfortably for the visit in dark fitted pants tucked into sturdy travel boots and a simple shirt beneath a weathered leather jacket. Her yellow lightsaber remained concealed beneath the jacket, while the crystal pendant she rarely went without rested unseen beneath her shirt. There was nothing about her appearance to identify her as belonging to any particular Force tradition, which was precisely how Violet preferred it.
She had wandered through several of the training halls before stopping to watch a lesson involving physical swords. That had been nearly an hour ago.
Violet knew how to fight. Solan had made certain of that long before she ever considered leaving Kesh, and decades spent training with him had given her little reason to question her ability to protect herself. What interested her wasn't whether a sword could accomplish something her lightsaber couldn't. It was watching people who had devoted themselves to an entirely different discipline accomplish familiar things in unfamiliar ways.
By the time the lesson ended, curiosity had won.
A conversation with the instructor eventually resulted in Violet being directed toward the practice weapons available to visitors, and she now stood in one of the open training spaces with a borrowed sword in hand. Its unfamiliarity became apparent almost immediately. A lightsaber responded to the smallest movement of her wrist without meaningful weight beyond the hilt. The sword demanded that she account for the entire weapon.
Her first attempts reflected that difference.
Violet moved with the balance and control of someone who had trained for most of her life, but experience did not magically make two weapons identical. A turn carried farther than she expected. One transition forced her to adjust her footing halfway through, and another ended with the blade slightly out of alignment. None were disastrous mistakes, but each was enough to earn a thoughtful narrowing of her violet eyes.
Rather than becoming frustrated, Violet smiled. This was exactly what she had wanted when she left Kesh.
There was an entire galaxy filled with people who had learned things she hadn't, cultures she had never experienced, and traditions that couldn't be understood from stories or information stored on a datapad. Forty-three years had given her plenty of time to become good at what she knew. Apparently, they had done nothing to diminish the pleasure of discovering how much she didn't.
Violet adjusted her grip on the sword and glanced toward the holographic demonstration nearby, studying the next sequence before settling her feet into position again. This time, rather than trying to make the unfamiliar weapon behave like the one she knew, she allowed its weight to guide the beginning of the movement.
A faint smile remained as she continued practicing.
Tydeus of Tion
The sanctuary blended its old stone construction with the conveniences of the modern galaxy. Recessed lighting illuminated corridors leading into training halls equipped with holographic displays, programmable remotes, sparring circles, and racks of practice weapons belonging to traditions Violet knew little or nothing about. She had dressed comfortably for the visit in dark fitted pants tucked into sturdy travel boots and a simple shirt beneath a weathered leather jacket. Her yellow lightsaber remained concealed beneath the jacket, while the crystal pendant she rarely went without rested unseen beneath her shirt. There was nothing about her appearance to identify her as belonging to any particular Force tradition, which was precisely how Violet preferred it.
She had wandered through several of the training halls before stopping to watch a lesson involving physical swords. That had been nearly an hour ago.
Violet knew how to fight. Solan had made certain of that long before she ever considered leaving Kesh, and decades spent training with him had given her little reason to question her ability to protect herself. What interested her wasn't whether a sword could accomplish something her lightsaber couldn't. It was watching people who had devoted themselves to an entirely different discipline accomplish familiar things in unfamiliar ways.
By the time the lesson ended, curiosity had won.
A conversation with the instructor eventually resulted in Violet being directed toward the practice weapons available to visitors, and she now stood in one of the open training spaces with a borrowed sword in hand. Its unfamiliarity became apparent almost immediately. A lightsaber responded to the smallest movement of her wrist without meaningful weight beyond the hilt. The sword demanded that she account for the entire weapon.
Her first attempts reflected that difference.
Violet moved with the balance and control of someone who had trained for most of her life, but experience did not magically make two weapons identical. A turn carried farther than she expected. One transition forced her to adjust her footing halfway through, and another ended with the blade slightly out of alignment. None were disastrous mistakes, but each was enough to earn a thoughtful narrowing of her violet eyes.
Rather than becoming frustrated, Violet smiled. This was exactly what she had wanted when she left Kesh.
There was an entire galaxy filled with people who had learned things she hadn't, cultures she had never experienced, and traditions that couldn't be understood from stories or information stored on a datapad. Forty-three years had given her plenty of time to become good at what she knew. Apparently, they had done nothing to diminish the pleasure of discovering how much she didn't.
Violet adjusted her grip on the sword and glanced toward the holographic demonstration nearby, studying the next sequence before settling her feet into position again. This time, rather than trying to make the unfamiliar weapon behave like the one she knew, she allowed its weight to guide the beginning of the movement.
A faint smile remained as she continued practicing.
Tydeus of Tion