Bathed in the afternoon sun, the Jedi felt the warmth as it danced across his flesh. The muted sounds of Coruscant had become lost, both cast and swept aside as dusk neared with each moment. He felt the stone beneath him and little else, other than the faint breeze that entered in across from one of the various balconies. Rakaan heard all that amounted to white noise from behind his closed eyelids, the gentle stream and faint albeit distant chatter. A paintbrush, back and forth, up and down in those effortless strokes that marked the canvas with an unknown intention.
Though as Rakaan found himself to be clearer in mind and soul, the once vile and prophetic dreams and visions became shorter and infrequent, the act of simple meditation eluded him. He could sit there hours in focus, and yet find none. The Jedi sat there and listened to the world around him, unable to become lost in his own as a result.
The sounds of the paintbrush spilled forwards. Time and again, the strokes continued. Until one eye refused to stay close and in what seemed to be a held onto wink, Rakaan searched for the source of it. It was a mess, that the Jedi found, of both the canvas and of the painter. But a familiar sight, oddly. Someone that trailed Master Noble so often, even well before now, with the Jedi Master's seemingly horde of students.
"
Are you Iris?" His voice carved into the quiet like a lightsaber in flesh. Valery mentioned certain Padawans of hers on more than one occasion, along with a few notable details. Of whatever it was she said, Rakaan had been confident he was correct. He wondered, at times, if the Jedi had chosen to forget him. Too ashamed of what he had once become. Even if only for a few months, they were undoubtedly dark times. Before then, a notable prodigy and now concerned as to whether that had become lost to shadows and doubt. "
Master Noble mentioned she had a painter, and this isn't a common sight." He said as much warmly.
Rakaan Horne
