Kai'el Brat "Guardian of the Light"
It was early morning when Braze got up. He still stuck to a relatively regimented schedule for each day of his life. It gave him structure, even if it did just feel like he was going through the motions. But he knew well that if you didn't use it, you lost it. That held true for strength and flexibility alike. Even those who danced or played music would only need a week or two to lose their edge.
He'd long learned that the rest was just as important as practice.
He'd chosen one of the black sand arenas where floral wisteria trees arched high overhead. There was a sweet wind that came through every so often, since this training room was more exposed to the outside elements, that would offer a new challenging element to the tightrope routine.
He wrenched the rope's secured section as tight as he could before moving to test its give, leaning over it and pressing his weight against it. This would do nicely.
He shifted to draw up the candles from the boxes and used the Force to elegantly set them out on their displays. This setup used to take so long, but now it had become such common routine that he'd learned to utilize the Force to greater degree, carefully setting out all the placements. Next was the set of small metal balls from their boxes, drawn up in levitation as he moved to carefully guide them all to rest atop each candle tip, balancing them softly with pinpoint precision.
Outside, the day was only just beginning to wake. Light spilled through the stained glass windows in ribbons of color. Soft blues, pale golds, and rose hues bending across the black sand floor. The wisteria trees swayed gently beyond the open arches, their blossoms trembling in the morning breeze. The air smelled faintly of dew and fragrant petals, carrying the far-off murmur of early birdsong. Shadows and dappled lighting rippled across the arena as the leaves moved, and for a fleeting moment, it felt as though the entire space breathed with him... slow and alive.
He took in that quiet stillness before returning to his practice... it offered a reset and lesson in patience, balance, and calm meditative serenity.
He shifted, stepping up onto the rope and rising to his full height with careful, practiced grace. The line bowed ever so slightly beneath his weight. He balanced there, still as glass, before slipping a length of black satin through his fingers, feeling its cool texture whisper across his skin. With a deft motion, he drew it upward over his eyes, plunging himself into darkness.
Three lightsabers lifted from their mounts at his silent command, hilts gliding into the air through the unseen pull of the Force. One ignited, then the next, then the last, each blade blooming to life in slow succession, bathing the black sand arena in shifting hues of violet, teal, and gold.
The sabers began to move, slow and deliberate, tracing graceful arcs through the air as they orbited him. They turned and spun, each movement a physical reflection of his internal focus, the somber hum eminating from each. The scent of flowers now mingled with the faint ozone tang of plasma, and the world seemed to narrow to sound, breath, and motion alike.