Respite

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The concept of someone moving in on the kill should his life be in danger was not one Cedric enjoyed. It wasn't that he didn't appreciate the dedication - he found it endearing - but his place as a Jedi was one of sacrifice. He was there to protect and to guide. In their dichotomy, Shanoed was as much student as she was a companion, both of which were positions in the social hierarchy that he was to nurture and defend, not the other way around. The thought of someone wanting to give their life for him simply made Cedric uncomfortable.

"The Spyder," he mused, "I can understand. If you've been surviving off the land for so long, it's only natural you might become one with it, especially with the Force. People in isolation tend to revert to their base survival instincts. Do that long enough, and it becomes normal - if something remains of the old, I would think reconciling the two states would likely prove timely." He eagerly psychoanalyzed. "But rest assured, you don't need to worry for my sake. The first step on the Jedi Path is that of calm. It is our center, the place from which all Jedi draw their power. When we are devoid of passionate emotions, we can best conduct ourselves for the betterment of the galaxy, and better channel the Ashla. It is an ideal we all strive toward, but it takes years of mastery to properly achieve."

He paused after a thought, "But...I'm thankful you'd want to defend me," he added, breaking up the rhetoric for a moment. "No shoes, copy. It's not something that bothers me. There are greater things to worry about than people having a hissy-fit over bare feet."

[member="Shanoed Marais"]

 

[Shanoed Marais]

Shanoed wiggled her toes under the fabric of her long dress, another gentle smile. "Calm. I thought I was calm. I just, may, possibly, have an anger management issue." She raised a hand, gesturing to the spot where Cedric had been meditating before. "But, if I judge correctly, you have been struggling with calm recently yourself."

​She leaned in, whispering in a conspiratorial voice. "I'm telling you, it's the echoes. Place seems like it's haunted."

She leaned back, her expression turning serious. "I suppose I should establish my boundaries. I know already, in private, you do not balk at me calling you by name, but how shall it be in public? When surrounded by our allies, shall I call you Master?" The word felt strange on her tongue, and sounded just as weird.

"Do I call you Imperator? Lord?" She scrunched up her nose at the words, mouthing them silently a couple times. "I pledged my loyalty to you, to you I will listen, but is there another that I am beholden to? I do not make a habit of kneeling to just anyone. My respect is earned through action, not a word. Words are as air."

The woman clasped her hands loosely behind her, facing [member="Cedric Grayson"]. She was, overall, very calm. More so now that she was able to voice some of the things that had been bouncing around in her brain.

 

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He raised a hand, squishing an imaginary bug between his thumb and forefinger. "Maybe just a little," he half-whispered, a slight snicker to his words. "I have been, though," he admitted. "This has happened before. It always comes after the eve of great victory. I tend to get into doubts about myself, as all men do, I think."

She leaned in. He couldn't help but snicker. "You're probably not wrong on that one." He glanced up at the ceiling, briefly wondering just how many heads of state had died in this building. More than he would probably like. "Might be worth a study sometime."

He paused, gaze returning to Shanoed as she asked of boundaries. "That depends," he reached up to scratch at his chin, "If you are my student, then you are my padawan. Master or Cedric will do, in whatever manner you wish. If you must call me by a title, I would prefer master. I am a Jedi before I am Imperator." He explained.

A pause. "I don't require titles from you, though. As for others, you owe them nothing. You answer only to me. My Jedi are beyond the rule of these politicians. When the Jedi Order is reformed, you will answer to the Jedi Council, as will I. We must all be beholden to the Order, or the Order means nothing."

[member="Shanoed Marais"]

 

[Shanoed Marais]

She seemed to be relaxing. It was refreshing, just talking with someone as an equal. Being treated as an equal. Being able to speak openly. She had yet to do or say anything that made [member="Cedric Grayson"] hostile towards her, and she had professed to having a beast living in her mind, as well as visibly threatened to snap his neck.

"Then I will likely never use titles. Master, I can do, if the situation requires, but otherwise, you are Cedric. Just as Alyson is Alyson, despite that she is an empress." She tilted her head to one side. "My superiors and I often butted heads about that back in the Luka Sene..."

She then put her hands on her hips. "And why should you doubt yourself? There were casualties on both sides, such is the unhappy truth of the hunting grounds, but the enemy surrendered. And Cedric?" She turned, gesturing in the direction of the entrance to the palace. "It takes a special kind of person to inspire the devotion I saw in your people. To convince me to bend the knee."

She turned back towards him. "Doubt has a place, it keeps you humble, but never doubt that you are an excellent leader. If you must doubt something, doubt your ability to face a foe alone. That way, you'll always be more likely to fight with a friend."

 

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"I would honestly prefer if you didn't. It always feels odd when people that are nearly my age call me Master." He admitted, reaching up to scratch at the back of his head. "That and you already know me as Cedric. You already know how to connect with the empyrean anyway - this training will be far more informal than the traditional."

He paused, finding himself wondering exactly the same thing. Admitting the reasoning made it feel like there was validity to it though, and he had little desire to breath into it any life. Even still, he found himself compelled to speak of it, if only because Shanoed had been honest herself.

"The Jedi Order has often taught that Jedi should not hold power. It is said that we cannot truly serve the Force if we have worldly concerns. I disagree with that notion, as I truly feel I have denied the grips that power might place upon me. I see it only as a tool to better serve the people," he turned away for a moment, gazing out of one of the windows into the depths of Coruscant. "But my respect for the old masters is paramount, and while I feel my purpose is pure, I doubt they would see it that way. Perhaps I am blind to private ambitions and I simply cannot see it. I don't know."

[member="Shanoed Marais"]

 

[Shanoed Marais]

The Miraluka turns her head towards the window. Her view from it was no where near the same as his. Lights, shadows, the winds of the Force flowing around everything. But she couldn't see the colors, the little details.

"I would have died a long time ago without the... Empyrean." She tries the word out on her tongue. She'd heard him use the word many times in reference to the Force. As she was opening herself up to his interpretation, she saw no reason that she would not also adopt his terminology.

"Luka Sene are... treated no different than normal Miraluka. We just receive a.. higher education." She held out her hand, lifting a few pebbles and spinning them above her palm. "We have this power, this connection, to something so much greater than ourselves. If we aren't using it to protect those who don't, are we not wasting it?"

It was not a rhetorical question. She questioned the morality of it herself. She had the power to snap a person's neck with the flick of her wrist, or cover great distances in seconds. Her face pales as a realization hits her. "I have misused my power..."

[member="Cedric Grayson"]

 

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He couldn't help but crack a light smile. It was the first time Cedric had heard anyone other than himself use the term aloud. Empyrean was a title many of the ancients had used for the Ashla. He preferred the more archaic term - it seemed more true to the Force's nature. A domain in which the will of the gods and the will of mortals merged and became one. What better way to describe the Ashla for what she was?

"You and me both," he agreed, offering her a light smile in hopes of shifting the dour mood. She spoke of the Luka Sene, and he listened eagerly. Knowledge was a commodity that Cedric craved at all times, and learning of the other force orders prominent in the galaxy would certainly be useful in the future.

Then he felt it. It was akin to a crack of lightning in the Force: instant, powerful, destructive, and then gone.

"You aren't anymore." He spoke, his voice gentle. "And if you have, and you know it, then you are on the path to redemption. The first step to change is recognizing past mistakes."

[member="Shanoed Marais"]

 

[Shanoed Marais]

Shan lightly wraps her arms around herself, grabbing onto her arms. "But can I truly be forgiven for what I've done? Certainly, the people I killed were cruel, and some murderers themselves, but they had families.. friends.. lives."

She ran a hand through her hair, pulling yet more strands free from the braid. Her energy was unsettled. This part of her mind had been dormant, fuzzy, for so long that she had not thought about her actions the last few years with this kind of clarity until just this moment. She had let the Bogun in. That first woman had achieved her goal, she had made Shanoed fall.

"The Luka Sene believe that all can be saved, all can be brought back into Ashla's loving embrace. I never believed them.. never wanted to believe them until now, when I am one of the ones in need of saving." A soft smile touches her lips.

"And the Empyrean sent you to save me. That makes you an honorary Seeker. Though Luka Sene don't often work with other orders, we have been known to work with the Jedi before. It shouldn't be too difficult to get them to agree to allow me to remain by your side." Shan tilted her head to one side. Her expressions and mannerisms were gentler. His calm was rubbing off on her. The beast even seemed to have quieted in it cage.

[member="Cedric Grayson"]

 

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"No one is beyond forgiveness. You know what you have done wrong, there is no point in punishment if one has learned. That is only sadism on the part of the punisher, or self-pity on the part of the punished." Cedric explained. "Let go of it. The past is the past, and you have an entire life ahead of you to atone. Look to potential, not failures." He continued, always one to give a bit of unasked wisdom.

Unlike many Jedi, Cedric had never fallen to the Dark Side. There had been a great many tests, and more than a few opportunities to let it take hold, but he had always resisted it. What he knew of redemption he had learned from others that had walked its path. He only hoped their shared wisdom would be enough to guide Shanoed, and any others that might see the Light, onto that hallowed road.

"It sounds like the Luka Sene have much in common with us then," he paused, snickering. "And I'll take that title. Ashla knows I don't already have too many at this point."

He paused, turning to face her. "There is no emotion, there is peace," he intoned. "Your presence within the empyrean has shifted. The hurricane I usually perceive around you has abated. Seems you found your center."

[member="Shanoed Marais"]