Location: Classroom, Prosperity.
Des had followed
Aveline Cuiléin
into the class. When it had come over the
ComPort she'd been intrigued. Especially as she read a little on the primer. Useful for imbuing objects, and other things. It was regarded as a great ability. She didn't think highly of herself, but knowledge weighed nothing. It would not hurt to know, and if it helped her make new things, then all the better. But moreover, it would give her a deeper, broader understanding of the Force, and how to use it. How it
could be used. At least that was the hope, and so she came.
Slipping into the back of the classroom. Not her usual position. She believed in being up in the front, where she was the closest to the action, the information, where she could soak up the most. Get any questions answered. Not that she was a teacher's pet. She only made the most earnest effort in learning she could. She gave each lesson her full attention, striving to commit every scrap to memory. But without stressing over it.
She took in
Auteme
's words, and even the questions asked. While she wasn't used to classes quite in this format, sitting at a desk, she supposed there wasn't much need for more. Her datapad, a small one this time, was set to record for playback later.
Then came the instructional portion.
"The light is unlimited. In truth, I use it every day. I could talk about how it's effective against the Sith, how imbuing it into your barriers can strengthen them, how its rays can push back any darkness. And it can certainly do those things," she said. "But that's only part of it. The light can heal, act as a beacon to your allies, calm the hearts of those in danger.
That sounded wonderous. The pale Arkanian perked up, even her ears seemed to raise just a little. Healing was something she knew she would need to learn. Recent outings had proven that. Her ribs ached abominably for a moment, as did the rest of her. Phantom pains from the crash of her ship. Hunter droids for the slavers breaking her ribs with an inhumanly strong punch. Memories came in a flash.
"There's a little light in the heart of every being. You can bring yours out to protect others just as you can use it to remind them of the good in the galaxy."
She took a step forward. Might as well get into the practical part of the lesson. "That's what I want you to do -- think about something good, use it to focus your will into the light," she said. "Think of the moment when you decided you wanted to be a Jedi..."
Those words were like a spear into Desbre as she listened. Memories of a race, hair flying, the wind whipping back.
Free. Happy. Disaster. She recognized now what she felt then. Feeling her grandmother's alarm. Her distress. And then her life beginning to fade. Feeling her grandmother
die through the Force. It happened so fast. It left a hole in her heart.
Her eyes began to glisten, her vision turning watery. Suddenly she was grateful she was at the back of the class. This Autume wanted her to use that? The moment when a while later, she had sat at the kitchen table with her grandfather. Discussing that awful night. Pouring her heart out to him, about her mistakes, how she felt. What she felt. Seeing the look in his eyes and face change. Shutting her out completely, but offering her a new direction. The moment when he revealed their family had Jedi ancestry going back a long time. It was likely she was strong in the Force. It would explain much. She should go seek the Jedi.
Autume wanted her to use
that. The day... her grandfather quietly suggested she leave. Likely never to return. It was a quiet exile. Self-imposed or not.
Tears began to flow once more. She swore she'd cried enough over what happened. But now she was asked to delve into those old pains, those old wounds. Draw them out, draw on that. They came hot and fresh, and she fought to stay quiet, to keep from breaking into fresh sobs as those memories came back crystal clear and obsidian sharp.
... the moment you started believing that this was the path that would help you make the galaxy better."
That gave her pause. Even as she had been getting her old, used ship she'd bought just for the trip to find the Jedi ready... As much as it hurt, she'd already started to hope even then. Never knowing how much pain she would endure. And she'd come to be accepted by her tiny order, not connected to the Silvers or the GA Jedi. A little backwater planet, hidden. Training under her first master, mentor, whatever. It was then that she'd started to believe, perhaps. Taking those first baby steps.
Somewhere along the way it had become ingrained into her. She'd never given up on her training. She'd taken breaks. Even climbing so far into a bottle she expected to die. She'd been disillusioned with the Jedi. But her training. The Force. The good she might do with it
never wavered. It had been what got her to crawl out of the bottle, and return to training. She didn't quite understand why. Other than the challenge. And trying to make up for debts she could never repay, live up to standards she would never reach. She would never be good enough. Three masters that had come and gone, disappearing on her, ghosting her... shown that she was never going to be good enough for them. But maybe one day, she would make Knight. Maybe then she would do some good. Even if she saved just one. It would be worth it. Even if it took her life.
Did she believe she could make the galaxy better? No. Not something as tiny and insignificant as her. But she could make a galaxy's difference for someone. Or a few people. Maybe. She desperately wanted to though. For her parents. For her Grams. Her family. For herself. It was a need, an ache that welled up inside her as she thought on the matter. Deep down in her soul, her heart where it rested.
That wasn't what she used as a source; not always, at least. But it was a good place to start for those learning. She could see that so many among them had light strong enough to manifest. Those who were most aware might feel a shift in that very light; a kind nudge, a little encouragement from their teacher that might help them coax it out. "When you have that image in your mind, bring that light forward and give it form -- creating a light from your hand is a good place to start."
With the instructions given, she set out into the class to give further aid where she could.
She opened herself to the Force. It always came when she reached for it now. It always would. It was always around her, within her. The pain eased. Not washed away easy, but she knew it would never forsake her for it was both a friend and part of her. She focused on those moments, those images. How much she wanted to make a difference. But as the Force guided her she relaxed more.
What does it mean to be a Jedi? Why do you do it? What feeling does it engender?
Again, that voice. It always came to her in moments like this, enhancing lessons. Or when she felt on the bring. Part of her began to wonder if it wasn't the Force itself speaking to her. The feeling was sound. Solid. Focus on what she felt when she thought about actually being a Jedi. The idea and the ideal. Not how much pain she'd experienced.
Tears streamed down her face, eyes closed as she focused on those concepts. Standing as a guardian, a protector. Flashes of herself coming to mind. Standing in front of a wall of encroaching with no hope. Endless death and destruction. It was from a past vision. Against the Bryn'adul. Perhaps the Sith too. The darkness was merely a metaphor, for she felt that imminent threat. But there in front was her, what she assumed to be her, a small bright spot, shining almost like a beacon in front of it. No rays of light, just one small bright spot against inexorable darkness.
Another image flashed to mind. She was older, but not old, just more mature. Her saber, a teal or
arctic saber lit in her right hand. Her left hand extended out. Robes of white, a shell of a Barrier or Shield wrapped around her, a bright point of light glimmering along its edge, wrapping around her protectively as she stood, a bulwark against destruction, indistinct figures behind her, huddled and cowered. Blaster fire skipping off her shield, an explosion beginning nearby. More came in. Always the same. Standing in the gap. Defending others. Holding back destruction and death. Healing and helping. Spreading relief, comfort, and safety wherever she went.
That was what she believed in. What she wanted to believe in. And it seemed so impossible. but if she could make someone smile. A mother, grateful for the return of a child. A newborn's laugh.
Focus on what has made you happy in the past. What made you feel good and worth something.
Nothing came at first. But then... Grams. The way she smiled at Des, even as a kid. Her hugs. Baking cookies. Best cookies in the city. The day she'd won one of the tougher races through the tunnel. Her girlfriend she'd left behind when she'd told Des she loved her. Celebrating with friends after another race, even with drinking and getting high. Fixing one of her buddy's swoops when they'd been struggling for a while. The way they lit up and hugged her. The sketches and art pieces she'd made for others.
No image came to mind at first, as she unconsciously cupped her hands, not quite together, but about a dozen centimeters apart. She wrapped up all those feelings in the Force, pouring them into it... and imagined just a sphere there, of glowing energy, pouring the Force into it, as she opened her eyes, her face still damp. Nothing came.
She focused harder, pouring not just her intellect into it, but pouring her heart into it. What hope she had. Gone were thoughts of past pains, failures, and worries. Only this. Only the challenge. Finding the light, the reasons she pressed forward. It didn't matter if she wore the title Jedi or not. It didn't even matter if there was a Jedi Order of any flavor. She would press on. She would do what was right. She had the ability to respond, and therefore it was her responsibility to
do something about all the things she saw. To be what she saw, what she hoped for. Hope. That was what it meant to be a Jedi. Continually rising. Never-ending. Rising and rising again, until nerfs became dragons. Hope wasn't wishful thinking. Hope was a kind of faith, that things would be better. But it did not exist without action.
This too she poured into the construct. Hope wasn't something she was used to feeling. But now she found what it meant to her, and ... so much more. She focused on that, clung to it, as though a life preserver in a storm-tossed sea.
Even the smallest candle is all that is needed to hold back the dark. The candle of hope.
Her concentration remained but she relaxed. Her thoughts slowed and eased. Focusing on the feeling, the image, and the Force, a pinprick of light formed between her hands. Then grew a millimeter. A small smile blossomed on her face slowly as the light began to play across it. Within a few moments, it had grown to a centimeter wide. Then two. Then four. Then six. It was warm and she could feel its radiance against her skin. It even had an infrared component. She could see the gentle warmth, feel its glow.
Success! Cradling it in her right palm, she reached up to wipe her face on the snowy uniform sleeve, never breaking sight on the orb. It was still ghostly and translucent, but for now, she would take it.