D O M I N U S

Location: Beside a Nameless Lake
Tag: [member="Zoe Rosella"]
Some would say that he had gone astray.Life had been a gaggle of twists and turns for the Jedi known as Josiah Denko. In his maturity, he found himself looking back on the cacophony of steps which had led him to the present. There were some moments he looked upon with great fondness - such as when he left the vicious streets of Nar Shaddaa in the pursuit of something much greater. However, he grit his teeth at others. A glance at the map of Galactic powers was all the truth he needed to feel the cold lash of failure seeping into his bones. Though he had thrown his lot in with a congregation that was familiar, he could not shake the feeling that he could have done more. The Confederacy, despite its local population of Dark Side faithful, got as much right as they did wrong. They did what they could to quell the rise of slavery; and seldom suffered other Empires to run rampant across the stars.
However. They were not a bastion of Light. There were twinkling stars among them - such as the Sacred Lotus on Monastery. But their guiding hand was not one steeped in the righteousness that Josiah served. Yet, with every day, their dominance across the Galaxy grew. With each victory, their place as a master of the Southern Systems became evident. They were on their way to being far greater than the Galactic Alliance. And, a small part of Josiah wished that the Alliance was still the dominant force in this region of space. But they were battered and broken into oblivion. They were shattered by the Dark Side so finitely that even their remnants had yet to recover. A piece of Josiah's soul blamed himself for not rising to fight when the Alliance fell victim to the Imperial assaults.
They died, and he did nothing. The last, militant arm of the Light fell - and a zealot stayed his hand.
In the wake of the Alliance's fall, Josiah had resolved to never sit on his hands again. And thus did he return to the Confederacy and resume his service to the nation. As far as he could tell, His Light could make a difference. He had studied at the feet of Grandmasters. Bested a Sith Emperor in single combat. And razed a burning path of Light throughout many battles. Here, despite their lack of Light compared to the Alliance, he would make his mark. But, it would have to be more than just the way he entered a battlefield. No. It would be something lasting. Something finite that would grow as time went on. He had sat on more than his hands for far too long...he sat on his knowledge. His principles. His skills. All of which were better suited in the hands of the next generation.
And so, beside a humble arbor at a lakeside, the Jedi Master meditated. With eyes lulled to a close, he opened himself fully to the will of the Force. It was faith alone that would see the one he was meant to guide enter his life. And all it took was a mustard seed.
