Now For My Next Trick (Marselia Urstalis)

[Yasha Cadera]

Marselia Urstalis is going to be one of those students that come with a collection of parcel-packages wrapped in my own ignorance. Haven't had the heart to tell her I've yet to have a student of my own, it's time to trust myself more and trust that in the long run I'm guided.

A blessed thing.

It's a fine day on Annaj, and as I wait for Lia's arrival I throw a grapefruit into the air and let it settle mid-air, tossing it with nothing but my mind. If Thakwaa is any indication, she should be punctual and compliant enough to work with.

Joys!

 

[Marselia Urstalis]

Mid-morning: really, as good a time as any to finally start training in something that wasn't a flight simulator. How she hadn't managed to start sharpening her natural abilities with Force, she almost could say she didn't know... but she knew why, and it was simply time to get over it. So she had rolled out of bed with enough time to pull on some suitable clothing, grab a bite to eat, and shuttle down from the Dawn Treader, which had done quite the good job of being home for the past while.

It was a nice day, indeed, and a fine one for learning outdoors. She already knew this was going to be much, much different from the lessons of her tutors, back home on Morellia, but... had there been anything that was the same since she'd left?

"Morning," she called as she trekked on over, watching the grapefruit ascend and descend with very little effort from [member="Anders Sivas"]. "Do you always play with your food?"

 

[Yasha Cadera]

"When it's as academic as a grapefruit? Yes. Yes I do." I grin and slap the ground where I sit, nodding my student over. Oh dear, I have a student. Wow. Focus, Anders! Yes, much with the focus.

"So, tell me about the Force. What's your opinion of it? When you feel it, what does it feel like?" There's a system to teaching I have yet to learn, first off how? Then What, then why. Maybe when in there, but the when is now and the who is Lia. Gotta start somewhere. [member="Marselia Urstalis"]

 

[Marselia Urstalis]

With the wordless direction, the Morellian redhead plopped down on the ground next to [member="Anders Sivas"], who played with fruit in the name of academic pursuits. She had been subjected to weirder. This was nothing. Nothing at all. And she liked Anders so far.

It takes all kinds, I guess.

Lia dropped her hands in her lap, and listened to the question, considering her response. It wasn't something she'd really thought of so much as a subject she had been avoiding since leaving her homeworld behind. She'd thrown herself into the piloting side of things with the Fel Imperium, and skirted confronting the well of intangible ability she had been saddled with, out of apprehension and fear. She could only hope that Anders would be of some help.

"My opinion of it is... is it's dangerous. It can be. And seductive in how it can be used..."

That took care of the 'opinion'. Now...

"...and it feels daunting."

Yes, that.

 

[Yasha Cadera]

"Dangerous, seductive and daunting. Pretty decent list." I nod and continue to float the grapefruit between my slightly raised hands. "There's more to it, but it's a good list." I wink as the grapefruit veers over to [member="Marselia Urstalis"]. "Taking control of the Force is dumb. There is no controlling the power of the universe, but that's the beautiful thing. The Living Force takes some getting used to but it's epic and healing, it helps guide us to use our intuition and in that intuition we get to create wonderful things, or intense situations... any and everything in the cosmos is at our touch."

I take a knife from my pocket and stab it into the grapefruit with my telekinesis, the cut ragged and uneven. "It can also be tragic. So we're here to fix it." My knife veers back out and falls on the floor with a clank. I wave my hand and the grapefruit repairs, sealing the fruit and bringing it back to its original unbroken form. Repairing a grapefruit is a lot easier than repairing a living sentient, but it's a start.

Okay it's how I kept fruit fresh when I lived in the Lifter and otherwise would have starved. . . but right now I'm hoping it's at least a little impressive and safe enough to bring on the power without the daunt. "The daunting, the fear, the anger and the powerhouses are out there. Doesn't mean we can't do anything about it. Doesn't make us powerless. The fruit is a tool. As goof-troop as it sounds, the concepts are identical to healing the sapient creature and it's a whole lot less mess than practicing on fauna. Figure out what constitutes the grapefruit, how its' made up and what it'd look like perfectly well. Picture it in your mind, once you see something for what it is - its' reality then you can learn to do something about it."

 

[Marselia Urstalis]

She watched the grapefruit float along, bound by the invisible hand of the Force, and listened as [member="Anders Sivas"] talked. If she had faith that it could be good - tens of thousands of years practising Jedi couldn't be wrong about the possibilities - then Lia could follow that, could have hope that it had a greater chance of not turning out as she feared. When the knife stabbed into the floating fruit she jumped, slightly. When it fell out, and the grapefruit became whole again, Lia blinked in some surprise.

"So..." she began, gesturing to the grapefruit, "...you think I can do that?"

The thought made her nervous, but not apprehensive. She stared at the grapefruit.

"Do you want me to do that?"

 

[Yasha Cadera]

"I don't think, I know. You and I, we can do amazing things and it's to us to do them. There's genuine evil in this galaxy, but we're here to balance out the hate and the tragedy. Healing an object is as easy as knowing what it should be like when whole and perfect. Put your mind to the grapefruit and see it as it is. Citrus is fairly simple. We'll work up to people. Once you see the object for what it is, I'm going to slice it open.

Concentrate, and let the Light pass through you, let it flow within as a channel flows in a river canal. The Light cannot harm you, for it does none. The Light heals, and once you feel it strongly enough you can put the grapefruit back together. Give it a try. I want you to try."

I let the grapefruit fall into [member="Marselia Urstalis"]' hands, but hold onto the knife for now.

 

[Marselia Urstalis]

She nodded, slow and unsure, and watched the grapefruit drop into her hands, hands that floated over her lap. The decent-sized, imperfectly rounded citrus fruit had a small bit of weight to it, a skin of shallow dimples, and... she brought it to her nose, to delicately take in its scent. It smelled lovely, but they always did. She liked grapefruit. Would that be a problem? Would it interfere with her ability to do this? No, that would be ridiculous!

Come on, it's just a fruit!

Right. Well, then would the faith of another, the faith that [member="Anders Sivas"] stated, be enough? Well it might have to be, because she wasn't terribly certain that she could do this, and the weight of her worries and concerns bore down on her. It took three minutes before she realised that she still was nose-to-grapefruit. She blinked, lowering the fruit into her lap.

"Sorry. Um..." Lia's eyes lifted, to find Anders and the knife, patiently waiting. "...just... bear with me, please."

A faint smile curved her lips, and she turned her attention back to the grapefruit, lifting it out of her lap, and holding it out before her eyes in both hands. Then she closed her eyes and tried, uncomfortable as it was, to sense the grapefruit in the Force so that she might feel it out for what it was - not living (though it once was) and yet still existing. It felt in her mind as it felt in her hands, imperfectly round and softly pitted, but it did not breath with the shudder of life, nor did it thump with the beating of lifeblood. It was just a fruit, and cutting into it was normal... and necessary for eating it.

"Okay. It's... it's just a fruit, Anders," and she felt like a fruit, for stating the obvious. "I get it."

 

[Yasha Cadera]

I chuckle softly and shrug a shoulder. "It's all good, Lia. Took me a while when I got started. I'll bear with you as long as you need." I leave out the bit where it was my buddy's uncle gurgling with a vibroblade sticking out of his chest, 'cause she doesn't need to know the utter panic and danger of my thirteen year old self doing all that. Going through it with a little voice in my head telling me to 'be calm and focus'. Yeah, I was too busy shrieking like a girl in a room of spiders.

"Just a fruit. A fruit you can change. A fruit you're going to have to set back to rights." Mm. Fruit.

My kind eyes are still glancing at [member="Marselia Urstalis"] as the knife in my hand juts into the fruit and slices it open in a jagged line. "So put the citrus back together."

Next stop? Mammals.

 

[Marselia Urstalis]

She had felt it whole, all connected, one continuous piece of peel, concealing pith and juicy flesh. Unique in its number of dimples, in the imperfection of its curve, the particular shade of its colour at a microscopic level, notes of tartness and sweetness ran out of the cut in its juices, down the skin, to her surrounding fingers all cool and sticky.

And for a moment, a frisson of panic shot through her.

just a fruit just a fruit just a fruit okayyyy

And she began to focus on it again, began to note the differences between this now, the present circumstance of the grapefruit, and its past as an uncut, digestible object. It might be as simple as reconciling the two, or as complex as rocket surgery (ha ha ha), but there was no way of knowing until she tried, and there was no chance of licking the light, syrupy juice from her fingers until she did. So she did, feeling the slit, the separation, and trying to will the Force - the Force, which was indeed at her command!... oh, so not comfortable - to make whole again what was not.

After all, if she couldn't mend a piece of fruit, what hope was there that she could heal something living, breathing, and bleeding? No, she didn't need to go there right now! Augh, focus, focus!

Sighing, looking forlornly at the cut, she closed her eyes, and refocused, directing the Force to the cut with one finger slowly running over it, while imagining the cut closing up, as if the process of slicing it open were happening in reverse. This was slightly taxing, an expenditure of her potential in the Force that had not been expressed before, but it was... it was starting to work! Which must have been very surprising to her, for she nearly dropped the fruit, only to catch it again before it hit the ground, her breath caught in her throat.

That breath was released as she looked over her work. Incomplete! Well, at least she knew she could do it now, so it was a matter of finishing the job, now! With that, the cut was thumbed over one last time, a little more power given to the mending, finally bringing the grapefruit back to its prior state of wholeness. Lia held the fruit up, giving it a closer look of intense scrutinization, just to be absolutely sure that she had done alright.

Then she held the citrus out to [member="Anders Sivas"] with one hand, and proceeded to lick the dried juice off of the fingers of the other.

"So, how'd I do?" she asked, less out of curiosity and a heck of a lot more because of a sore need for validation in the face of her fears, as she cleaned each finger with her tongue. "I don't think I murdered it."

At least that much was obvious! It was a fruit, already plucked from the plant on which it had grown, and thus, slowly decaying. Derr.

 

[Yasha Cadera]

I sense the panic and almost shut it down, it has no place in the training of a healer but [member="Marselia Urstalis"] needs the panic to conquer. The focus is taking longer than I'd like to think is healthy for a centred person, but who am I kidding? It's me. I'm glad I have a student that hasn't ditched me yet.

No time like the present! Haha! The grapefruit was congealing, slicking up, faltered. But Lia kept it together, and now she might be ready for the next step.

"You took on your panic and fear and kicked it in the spine. This is good! Much good! I'm proud. This trick works on preserving fruit too. I used to use it to sustain my supplies when I lived in deep space. You did well pat yourself on the back." I put my hand on her shoulder and grin.

"About murder." I take the knife and stab it into my right forearm two inches deep and rake the knife up my arm. The pain is an ecstatic agony until my inner force powers dull it. I bite the inside of my cheek, yank the knife out and gasp.

"Blood is scary. But it could be worse. Blood means they're alive and I'll take that over a still corpse any day." The blood begins to ooze backward from the ground and up, up back into my arm. The wound begins to seal itself by inches. "We know what our bodies are supposed to be. Instinct is fantastic. It tells us to run, to hide, to panic, to have faith. Panic is ok. But failing because of the panic? Not so much. Just like the grapefruit, we can repair living things. Like me."

The wound is all but sealed, nothing remaining but a slim pink line and a stain on my sleeves. "I'm not going to ask you to cut yourself. As you can see, I heal. It's Curato Salva, the art of healing oneself. We can turn that gift to healing others. So.

Think about it, conquer that panic. Do not attempt to heal while you're in a panic or afraid. See my arm. Feel it if you have to, learn what skin and bone and sinew and muscle is supposed to be like. Then I'll slash my arm again. As you can tell, I've got this and it's no big deal for me to heal a wound like this on myself. Think of it like a safety net."

 

[Marselia Urstalis]

Preserving fruit? That was useful information! Well, useful if she ever found herself out in space with perishables for a prolonged period of time. Which... wasn't too unlikely, she supposed. She had a strange knack for knowing where to go when out in the black, something like an intuitive sense of direction in the seemingly directionless void of space, but that wasn't to say she'd mastered it. She was good, but not that good. Maybe that would come with ti-- OHMIGODSWHATTHEFETH.

Was [member="Anders Sivas"] nuts? Plunging a knife into her arm, just working it through like that? Lia could do little else but stare as her fingers curled into tense fists. Was this some strange kind of... kink... oh. Right, words. Explanation. But... blood. BLOOD!

"Blood is scary."

No fething dren. Say it ain't so! And of course it gets weirder until Lia's brain in its horror (and fascination, always with the disturbing fascination she couldn't seem to control) put two and two together with the intellect it harboured and saw that yes, they were still on the subject of healing.

"I'm not going to ask you to cut yourself."

Lia swallowed, and breathed, squeaked out something approximating a run-on of 'okaygood'.

"As you can see, I heal."

Yep. That much has become very clear, and the moment Anders suggests, Lia tentatively reaches out at first, then finishes covering the distance to touch and poke at her master's arm. It was as it should be, just like the grapefruit, if a little less sticky. Anders mentions slashing the arm again, and Lia's fingers pause, her breathing pauses, and after a moment or two everything resumes and she gives a small, anxious nod.

Safety net. Right.

The redheaded Morellian withdraws her hand, thinking for about a minute before nodding, steeling herself against the twisting in her nerves, her stomach.

"I'm ready, Anders."

Might as well get it over with before I can talk us out of it, yeah?

 

[Yasha Cadera]

Many people view the healing arts as a soft and cushy pacifistic hay day, the sort of harvest festival where folk dance in circles till the flowers drift lazily down to the grassy field in perfect circles of harmony and bliss.

Healing is bloody. Healing is macabre. Healing is a tight fisted scream at the negative to demand itself whole and positive again. To be a healer is to be a warrior battling attrition and to so embattle one must be whole in and of oneself. It was the single greatest moment of infamy when I healed my first wound, in a desperate plea to stay alive when a Symbiotic Imprint turned nasty.

I was twelve. Someone recognized me, when even I didn't recognize me and to this day I still don't know who that even was. I wish I could perpetuate the lie that slicing my arm open for the good of my students is easy, but it sucks. I'm terrified this will be the one time it doesn't heal properly. This'll be it. I'll bleed out.

A Master has to have the same amount of faith a Padawan had in their leader. On the flip side of the Student/Master bond is an incredible amount of faith and trust and trust hasn't been a standard in my Fringely education. "Okay. You've got this. Concentrate on what my arm should be. Not what it is, but the perfect representation of a healthy limb."

I take another breath, glad Bucket isn't watching me do this, and stick the knife in. The insides of my cheeks are nearly bit right through, I gulp to cover the growing pain as I yank the knife out and stare at [member="Marselia Urstalis"] ' shoulders for the moment the lesson clicks.

 

[Marselia Urstalis]

"Concentrate on what my arm should be."

She stared at the still-perfect arm to form the image of what should be, and looked at her own arm, what should be before looking back at the laid-out arm Anders had prepared, steeling herself against what was to come, her mouth setting into a thin line. She looked up at her master's face, then nodded, and looked down just in time to see the other woman shove the knife into her room.

Panic set in, but teeth gritted, and the Morellian girl swallowed as the blade did its work, blood welling up and over in its wake. Her hands shook slightly, and she curled them into fists, as if digging her nails into her palms the same as she'd clenched her teeth would force the same steel and focus. Then the knife was yanked out. She breathed out, and sharply breathed in, fingers unfurling and taking the bleeding forearm into her own, still lightly shaking hands.

We can do this. Yes, we can.

She breathed out, slower on purpose, and took in another breath over a paced meter, her eyelids dropping to slits as she felt the Force around her, pulling it to the point of contact as the image of what should be superimposed in some strange, visionary way over what was. One hand maintained the hold, while the other moved to hover over the wound, fingers nearly touching, so, so close. Power began to be poured in, fingers to flesh and blood, and as the wound began to nit together bit by bit, motes of confidence arose in the ginger; fingers slowly traversed the extent of the cut, healing occurring in their wake until there was nothing left to knit back together.

Still, Lia was shaken, but pride began to well up as she saw the success of her work with her own eyes, eyes that darted up to see [member="Anders Sivas"]' face again.

"Are... do you feel okay?"

She felt as if she might cry, with a wavering smile on her face.

 

[Yasha Cadera]

The blood drips from the wound, knife crashing to the ground with a slick thump. I fight the urge to

"I feel . . . " The burning in my eyes stings past cornea and retina and into the optic nerves. A surge in my brain makes me think I'm about to pass out, but that would be far too traumatic and too easy. As [member="Marselia Urstalis"] runs her fingers up and down my arm I feel the colour drain from my face, the burn in my eyes takes my cheeks, my throat. . .

Yet the Force leaves none of its children drifting in the dark. Not when we are willing, not when Lia focused and brought forth the shift in my tissue and fibres until the arm became whole. I exhale and brush the fingers of my other hand across her cheek, eyes shut I nod.

"You did good, Lia. You did good." The hand she healed raises from her grasp and I hold it up for her, move the fingers, bend the wrist. "Healing is conquering attrition. It's not about pleasant feelings grasping at straws of indecently cheerful sunshine. It's a harrowing pit in your stomach that heralds the demand of your own conscience. That this person ought to be whole. That this person ought to be healed. Push doubt away. Be emphatic. The Force will always give you what you need."

I open my eyes and smile over at Lia. Conquering fear, healing fruit and limbs weren't easily come by nor flippant talents. I'm proud of Lia, I pull my body against the wall of the place we're in, which isn't more than a foot or so from Lia. I hold my arm up for her, one leg curled in, the other straight out. "C'mere. Let's cool down from the blood and stabby fingers with something that'll help my gorgeous pilot padawan. It's a skill I picked up from a Miraluka when I was fifteen. Forget who it was, can't remember what we did, but I remember this. Our eyes can lie to us. Seeing through a perception, through darkness or muted surroundings is valuable. Gonna start with shutting our eyes and picturing the room we're in. Sound good?"