The Golden Rose
Tags —
Josiah Denko
Paraphernalia — Lightsabers, Jedi Armour
It felt like an eternity since she had first met her Jedi Master at that masquerade on Naboo--at the night of scandals, dancing and socialising. While most of the evening had been spent dancing and well rolling around the floor with a friend, she could not forget the promise the older Jedi had made to her: to mentor her in the ways of the Force, and all that came with being a Jedi. That vow had become all the more necessary after the clash with the Sith on Voss. Isobel had been unprepared, unfocused, and lacking the patience every Jedi must master. She knew the theory well enough--the endless holocrons from the Jedi of Old -- but such knowledge was not guaranteed source of wisdom. It was only a means to learn the foundation and build on that with the aid of a master in the force. . . A lesson she would soon come to learn.
The first of many, hopefully.
Isobel hurried down the halls of the Nabooan Jedi Temple, the white armour-weave cloak of her armour dragging along the tiled floor as she ran (something she really needed to fix soon.) Of course she was late. And of course, this would be the second terrible impression she made on her Master. After all, it had been rude enough to abandon their conversation at the masquerade… just to waltz and mostly stumble with some boy. 'Twas not entirely something the Jedi she looked up to would commit to, or at least their Order's tenets forbade certain attachment. While the orders of old preached that attachment could lead to catastrophy, the Order of Shiraya had taken a more moderate stance, one which did not quite still her worries. Though that was not why she was here, she was here to learn--about whatever her master had prepared for her, and that alone was terrifying enough.
Upon reaching the tall doors to the training terrace, the young Padawan moved her hands over her robes to flatten any folds or wipe off any of the dust. She moved her braid back over her shoulder and took one last steadying breath before entering the room. "Master Denko? You asked for me?" She began shyly, before closing the door behind her. "Sorry that I am late, I-- I overslept and..." Though she sought to come up with a proper excuse, the words died on her lips--she could only offer an apologetic smile in its stead.