Séverin Alexandre
Character
"Séverin."
The same voice slipped through his dreams, tender and gentle, soft as sweet honey. Vaguely, he could distinguish a face — forgiving cheekbones, pursed cherry lips, those same piercing blue eyes, icy in colour, yet warm inspirit. The features were otherwise blurry, just tantalisingly out of reach, as if the Holonet connection had just glitched. She blinked, eyelids fluttering just enough for him to twitch in his sleep. He had heard her, had seen her, so many times before, yet he could never remember who she was.
A hand reached up to his cheek, stroking back long blonde hair with doting affection. She leaned down, those blurry features growing closer, yet never clearer. Her lips, those pursed cherry lips, were close enough to touch his skin, warm, and then, as he closed his eyes, just barely, she bestowed a kiss upon his forehead, gracing his flesh for a mere few seconds before pulling away again. She smiled, the action distorting her features, "My Sév, dear, it's time to wake up…."
Somewhere, out in the Lake Country not so far away, someone was waiting for him, knowing she would never see him again.
He sat up in his bed, and for brief moments, forgot where he was. Eyes scanning his surroundings, it was only when he heard the patter of the Gallo Mountain rain on his chamber window did he remember that he was not surrounded by the beaches of his birth land. No smooth sand between fat little toddler fingers anymore. Those fingers, now grown long and delicate, traced the edges of his bedding, reaching half-heartedly to the glass settled on his bedside table. He took a sip. The water did well to wake him up. The dream did more of the job though.
He glanced at the clock. It was still early. Too early.
The sole sun of the planet was yet to rise, but as always, the calls of birds could have already been heard despite the weather, and if nature did not rest, neither would he. A humming energy coursed through his veins, just enough to push him up out of bed and onto his feet. He too joined in, a light tune at his lips stabilising his mood, his heart beating with the same adrenaline of flight. Pulling on his Jedi robes his eyes rested on his apparel in the mirror. He looked the part too. Like someone from stories he had always been regaled with.
He was a Jedi.
Initiate still, but forget the technicalities.
In fact, he would soon be youngling no longer. His fingers travelled down the stitching of his cloak, creeping inwards towards his shirt — gold and white, with patterns he had spent his credit allowance on customising. But then again, they were merely distractions. No, with a flourish of his sleeve Séverin's hand rested on a new addition to his apparel, fingers gripping tightly around its hilt. He brought it up to the light, eyes full of admiration as he stared at the weapon. The Gathering was mere days ago, yet it had seemed like an eternity of waiting.
Never once had Séverin's confidence faltered in the knowledge that he would receive his own Padawan training, and today, dreams were becoming reality. Perhaps the one dream he should be forgetting, however, was the nightly occurrence of that face — inviting, welcoming, pleading. Being so rooted in a past he never even knew was dangerous, and stepping forward into a brand new world, he could not afford such a danger.
He was a Jedi, he thought again, pointedly.
His eyes drifted out to the window, and deciding that the rain had only grown, he threw on his hood, leaving his face in shadows and only locks of gold visible at his chest. Hand resting on his new lightsaber, Séverin lifted his chin and smiled at himself, satisfied. With a thud, the door closed behind him, and the early morning air of Naboo welcomed him into her arms. Crisp, he decided.
Shiraya's Sanctuary was the only home Séverin ever knew. Enveloped by the scent of fresh earth as he stepped outside, Séverin passed the both architectural grandeur and natural sublimity. The hallways were ones he had now known for more than a decade, yet he still found his eyes trailing to the ornate details on the passing pillars or his favourite wildflowers, in full bloom in the Naboo spring.
He walked slowly, at first, taking his time as he held out his hands for rainwater. His fingers trailed over the sprinkles of colour amongst green as his eyes wondered to the distance, flitting over the domes and flows of the Temple. Since he was a mere toddler, brought to the temple with his hand held tightly as he barely took his first steps, his destiny had been laid out for him into what it was today, and never before had his goal been so strikingly clear. To become a knight. He was one step closer.
As the rain heavied his hood he hastened his steps to the training terrace, where he had been instructed to meet his new master. Winding his way up the steps to the spacious plateau that held the location, bushes rustled in his wake as he pushed passed them, until the twinkling of his dormitory were all but left in the far distance, a mere memory of an era bygone. It had merely been minutes of walking, yet he was heading into a future all too new, and all too exciting.
Reaching the terrace he found a spring in his steps, a briskness to his gait, restraint not forgotten but eased. He carried himself with the utmost assurance, golden cloak catching in the wind as he walked, swaying behind him. His strides were confident, his eyes set straight ahead to the familiar archways. Someday, someday soon, he would soaring through the skies he now looked upon.
He was a Jedi, and this time, that notion carried nothing but sheer pride.
The same voice slipped through his dreams, tender and gentle, soft as sweet honey. Vaguely, he could distinguish a face — forgiving cheekbones, pursed cherry lips, those same piercing blue eyes, icy in colour, yet warm inspirit. The features were otherwise blurry, just tantalisingly out of reach, as if the Holonet connection had just glitched. She blinked, eyelids fluttering just enough for him to twitch in his sleep. He had heard her, had seen her, so many times before, yet he could never remember who she was.
A hand reached up to his cheek, stroking back long blonde hair with doting affection. She leaned down, those blurry features growing closer, yet never clearer. Her lips, those pursed cherry lips, were close enough to touch his skin, warm, and then, as he closed his eyes, just barely, she bestowed a kiss upon his forehead, gracing his flesh for a mere few seconds before pulling away again. She smiled, the action distorting her features, "My Sév, dear, it's time to wake up…."
Somewhere, out in the Lake Country not so far away, someone was waiting for him, knowing she would never see him again.
He sat up in his bed, and for brief moments, forgot where he was. Eyes scanning his surroundings, it was only when he heard the patter of the Gallo Mountain rain on his chamber window did he remember that he was not surrounded by the beaches of his birth land. No smooth sand between fat little toddler fingers anymore. Those fingers, now grown long and delicate, traced the edges of his bedding, reaching half-heartedly to the glass settled on his bedside table. He took a sip. The water did well to wake him up. The dream did more of the job though.
He glanced at the clock. It was still early. Too early.
The sole sun of the planet was yet to rise, but as always, the calls of birds could have already been heard despite the weather, and if nature did not rest, neither would he. A humming energy coursed through his veins, just enough to push him up out of bed and onto his feet. He too joined in, a light tune at his lips stabilising his mood, his heart beating with the same adrenaline of flight. Pulling on his Jedi robes his eyes rested on his apparel in the mirror. He looked the part too. Like someone from stories he had always been regaled with.
He was a Jedi.
Initiate still, but forget the technicalities.
In fact, he would soon be youngling no longer. His fingers travelled down the stitching of his cloak, creeping inwards towards his shirt — gold and white, with patterns he had spent his credit allowance on customising. But then again, they were merely distractions. No, with a flourish of his sleeve Séverin's hand rested on a new addition to his apparel, fingers gripping tightly around its hilt. He brought it up to the light, eyes full of admiration as he stared at the weapon. The Gathering was mere days ago, yet it had seemed like an eternity of waiting.
Never once had Séverin's confidence faltered in the knowledge that he would receive his own Padawan training, and today, dreams were becoming reality. Perhaps the one dream he should be forgetting, however, was the nightly occurrence of that face — inviting, welcoming, pleading. Being so rooted in a past he never even knew was dangerous, and stepping forward into a brand new world, he could not afford such a danger.
He was a Jedi, he thought again, pointedly.
His eyes drifted out to the window, and deciding that the rain had only grown, he threw on his hood, leaving his face in shadows and only locks of gold visible at his chest. Hand resting on his new lightsaber, Séverin lifted his chin and smiled at himself, satisfied. With a thud, the door closed behind him, and the early morning air of Naboo welcomed him into her arms. Crisp, he decided.
Shiraya's Sanctuary was the only home Séverin ever knew. Enveloped by the scent of fresh earth as he stepped outside, Séverin passed the both architectural grandeur and natural sublimity. The hallways were ones he had now known for more than a decade, yet he still found his eyes trailing to the ornate details on the passing pillars or his favourite wildflowers, in full bloom in the Naboo spring.
He walked slowly, at first, taking his time as he held out his hands for rainwater. His fingers trailed over the sprinkles of colour amongst green as his eyes wondered to the distance, flitting over the domes and flows of the Temple. Since he was a mere toddler, brought to the temple with his hand held tightly as he barely took his first steps, his destiny had been laid out for him into what it was today, and never before had his goal been so strikingly clear. To become a knight. He was one step closer.
As the rain heavied his hood he hastened his steps to the training terrace, where he had been instructed to meet his new master. Winding his way up the steps to the spacious plateau that held the location, bushes rustled in his wake as he pushed passed them, until the twinkling of his dormitory were all but left in the far distance, a mere memory of an era bygone. It had merely been minutes of walking, yet he was heading into a future all too new, and all too exciting.
Reaching the terrace he found a spring in his steps, a briskness to his gait, restraint not forgotten but eased. He carried himself with the utmost assurance, golden cloak catching in the wind as he walked, swaying behind him. His strides were confident, his eyes set straight ahead to the familiar archways. Someday, someday soon, he would soaring through the skies he now looked upon.
He was a Jedi, and this time, that notion carried nothing but sheer pride.
