Private Passing the Torch

[Iston Voronwe]

Location: The Sliver Rest l Meditation Gardens
Tags: Zan Krytle

It was peaceful, that is the Sliver Rest, especially early in the morning — the sun rising over the canopy of trees as it tenderly kissed all it touched with its light. Iston enjoyed watching the sunrises, it gave him plenty of time to reflect and to meditate. Standing up the old man stood, moving across his balcony and back into his living quarters, today was to be an eventful one — today he was meeting with a promising, yet slightly older Jedi Learner that had yet to be selected for Padawanship. For several months now, Iston had been silently watching the young Natuolan, admiring his resolve to continue in his studies — despite the hardships of not having a Master, Iston hoped however to rectify that. Many years Iston had lived, and in that time he had been through many hardships — gleaned much knowledge and to this point his biggest failure had been that he had no successor, no one he could pass everything he’d gain down and onto for the next generation of Jedi. Over time, among the ranks others whispered of him, saying that he was too selective, too hard, too critical… Maybe he was too hard, perhaps it was true… but, maybe, Iston thought, no one had been worthy enough — but after watching this young man, he had hope again.

Having by now gotten dressed, Iston pulled his robes over his attire and he began to walk towards the door, his left hand coming out as his beskar walking cane floated over and to him as he walked out the door heading down towards the gardens. The cane as usual made its rhythmic and hypnotic thud with every advancing step — looks were a very deceiving thing, to most Iston would appear very much like the weathered and long lived Jedi Master that he was, but, even in his age, Iston had continued to hone his mind and body, refusing to let age shut him down, for with the force… with Ashla, he could do all— he however chose to merely use the assumption that others put onto him as an advantage.

Entering the Gardens, Iston made his way over to a set of circular rocks, surrounded by sand that had been intricately raked in similar swirls and patterns. Carefully and without sound, Iston walked on the small path of stones that led to them and gently sat down. Closing his eyes, he slowed his breathing and began to meditate as he patiently awaited young Zan.

 

[Zan Krytle]

Its presence was carried in the streams of light breezes, carrying the fruitful garden into anyone's senses within its area. The Nautolan jedi learner made his way through the pathways. These ranged from those circular stones sorted for stepping across areas to walkways formed to what he might assume would be permacrete though he was not sure. He had arrived to the compound from a transportation study provided by the jedi. The door that opened was wide, almost the length of the ship, much like a carrier's shell would slide upward to reveal the interior of the mechanic avian.

As he stepped out of the ship, he was greeted by a droid. The droid spoke to him, and thereafter they would both take a trip to the gardens. It was beautiful, and tranquil, taking the young boy far away from anything that may lay outside of its reach. Beyond the euphoric wave of senses, Zan felt and experienced, there was the very essence of his trip within the air as well. It was the presence first mentioned - the force. It left him curious, but also with much fear that he would underwhelm the man he was meeting.

His large, black eyes fell upon the visage of the man, the source of what resonated with a thick presence. He had long hair, weathered from age but to the young Nautolan it meant prestige and wisdom. He had met with jedi master before. A few weeks ago, he had sparred with another learner in front of a prospective master but lost, and with that among other things perhaps the master ended up taking Nir Si instead. He was not sure, but it did not matter. His thin lips parted and he took in a breath as he approached them.

With a quick bow of his head in greeting he spoke,

"Hello Master Varonwe. I am Zan Kyrtle, it's an honor to meet with you sir."

Iston Voronwe

 

[Iston Voronwe]

"Hello Master Varonwe. I am Zan Kyrtle, it's an honor to meet with you sir."

Zan Krytle

The old Jedi Master opened his eyes as he listened to the young Learner introduce himself, one of his eyebrows raising as a light chuckle escaped his lips, a full yet warm smile spreading across his face , causing his eyes to once again close as the wrinkles in the corners of his eyes built up, Iston now motioning for the young man to sit with him. “You must think me a piece of bread, one in need of being so buttered up — please, young Zan, sit with me.” Iston always did enjoy poking at others, but in a way, he also wanted to see how the young man reacted to it.

“ You’ll have to forgive me young one, when you’ve been around and lived through the things I have, sometimes speaking your mind is the best remedy there is… but I ramble — How do you feel your time in the order has been spent? Are there any areas you feel have been overlooked? Do you have any areas you’d like to improve in? Please…. Young One, speak candidly.” Everything Iston did, he always tried to do with purpose, he wanted in this moment to see Zan for who he was, not the mold he believed others wanted him to be. Iston had seen first hand the pressures the Order had often put on those whom they deemed “unsuitable” for Padawanship, the ones who stayed in the Order, hoping that they one day would be picked; this deferred hope became a sickness — and he knew some if not most of what the young boy felt. If he was to be Iston’s Padawan Learner, he wanted Zan to know speaking your mind was ok — not being a cookie cut out Padawan was ok — that being whom Ashla made you to be was enough. He wanted to establish trust early that the Youngling could come to him and talk to him about anything — too many people had he seen suppress and contain the things they felt or the truths they hid till they festered and roots took place where they had not ought too.