Private The Parting Glass...

[Julius Sedaire]

Socorro
Tags: Calix of Thyrsus
Theme
​

This time, there were nor forms or kata. Julius had been increasingly letting Calix find his on footing and style. A proper duelist, in his esteem, operated in the moment and not in the stricture of a single style. Left and Right, the lad was a whirling dervish, and Julius smiled in satisfaction as his padawan went to thrust. A deadly move, if not on training settings. But suddenly, Julius just... Wasn't there... The Force seemed to ripple around him, and Calix would feel the heat and hear the hum of Julius' blade on the back of his neck.

"And that's done lad. Take a break."

Deactivating his blade, he turned and checked his datapad. Without a word, there was a sudden sag to his shoulders, as if the wind had gone out of him. Something sad and defeated crept into his aura.

"Calix... Come here... There is another lesson"

 

[Calix of Thyrsus]

[ post theme ]​

If Julius was encouraging the Anything Goes School of Lightsaber Combat, then Calix was definitly a star pupil.

Julius no doubt could feel the Dark Side lingering like a shadow around his padawan, as though waiting to usher those instincts toward something malevolent. As it was, the boy's natural talents lent themselves to a style that was simple, efficient, but also brutal.

The wild, untamed energy of Form I adapted quickly to the unpredictable. And Julius Sedaire excelled at being unpredictable. Once Calix had committed to shifting from defense to offense, however, the boy's form changed as he transitioned to the powerful strikes of the more aggressive Form V. It was a more violent approach than most Jedi found acceptable, but it suited the Echani. Once he found his opening -- or thought he had found his opening -- Calix fell into the Thyrsian stereotype, opting for bold strikes in a bid for a quick, decisive victory.

More often than not, that strategy decisively got Calix his ass handed to him.

Spark seemed to fly around the boy's head, as his blue blade connected with Julius' in a rapid and violent clash that charged the air around the pair with a palpable energy that crackled in the arid climate of Socorro's deserts. Shifting from Shii-cho into a djem so manuever, the Thysian seemed to be leaning hard into the chaos, pitching himself into an all-out assault on his master as he plunged forward at the man...

...who was just not standing there anymore.

With so much momentum, Calix couldn't exactly stop on a dime. And, at the moment, he had absolutely no idea just how Julius had moved, so he didn't know whether to try and pivot -- or in what direction -- or if he needed to try and stop.

He opted to try and stop, a loose layer of sand and dirt grinding under his heel as the afro-headed boy flailed about for a moment, before he felt the heat of the lightsaber at the back of his neck and realized that Julius was behind him. The boy have a gasp in surprise, a moment before his bewildered expression melted into a youthful cheer as he exclaimed, "That was AMAZING!"

Deactivating his lightsaber, the afro-headed boy swung his leg out before he brought his heels together and gave the aging Corellian a formal bow in the traditional Thyrsian custom. While his master checked his holo-mail, the boy went over to get a drink of water.

"Calix... Come here... There is another lesson"

At the sound of his name, the boy looked up from the canteen. Wiping the sweat from his brow, the boy stepped back over toward the man.

Adept as he was at body language, the boy could make out that something was wrong. Julius' posture... not weariness. Sadness?

"Bad news, Master?" the youth inquired.

Julius Sedaire​

 

[Julius Sedaire]

Socorro
Tags: Calix of Thyrsus
Theme
​

For a moment, Julius said nothing, merely took a heavily callused hand and plopped it on the should of the young lad in a familiar fashion. Before them stood the spinning image of a man, one Wyatt Morga , though he doubted that Calix would know him on sight. Pain ran across his features, and as if his padawan wasn't there, he spoke. The holo image was from a Jedi Academy Network tightbeam wave to him from others of the Covenant who had survived the death of the Grandmaster. He had fallen. Other information followed, that the Peace had been willed to him, and that what could be recovered of Wyatt was making it's way to Socorro. The thinning hair and beard stirred in a rare desert breeze as the aging warrior spoke.

"Damn't Wyatt, that was my fate. You to lead, I to be the speartip. See what happens when you go without me?"

A squeeze on the should, and he turned to Calix.

"A good, true friend and mentor has fallen in battle. And it turns to us to memorialize him and sort through the remnants of his life. A lesson in how attachment is both danger and strength, and in my people's customs for death, for Wyatt would expect no less. Does Thyrsus have any traditional mourning rituals?"

Sighing, Julius looked again at the image floating before him and smiled this time.

 

[Calix of Thyrsus]

[ lament from the grave ]​

The old man was telegraphing his message even before he'd uttered a single word.

The hand on the shoulder. Seeking connection, mourning the severing of another. The grip, expressing anger. Remorse. Regret?

"Damn't Wyatt, that was my fate."

Yep, definitely regret.

The boy's brow furrowed at the words, however. His blue eyes peering up at the old man with a surprising vulnerability to them. Calix knew that his master was not a young man, but to even talk about fate in that way...

...it was painful to think of losing another mentor, the way that he'd lost Master Harand.

"A good, true friend and mentor has fallen in battle," Julius offered, though he owed the boy no explanation. It was clear that the man was processing something that was immensely painful for him. Calix had seen sorrow in Julius before, but not like this.

"Does Thyrsus have any traditional mourning rituals?"

Even as Julius explained the responsibilities that were to be undertaken, the question caught the boy by surprise. "I..." the youth began, stammering as he realizing he had no answer for the man. "...I don't know."

It was only then that the boy realized that it was something he hadn't considered. "I had Echani tutors when they could find them, but most of what I know about Thyrsus, I've learned from the archives," the boy remarked, though it wasn't anything Julius didn't already know. The death of Calix's parents at the hands of the Sith Empire and Calix's rescue by the Jedi, his upbringing in the temple on Coruscant.

Thyrsus wasn't a planet that he could visit, located deep in Imperial territory. Echan was, being located in Silver Jedi territory, but it wasn't the same.

But, he was lapsing into thinking about himself. Right now, his master needed to vent.

"What are the Corellian rituals?"

Julius Sedaire​

 

[Julius Sedaire]

Socorro
Tags: Calix of Thyrsus
Theme
​

"Usually a wake... A vigil of celebration and memory. Often drinks. Stories told. Some of them might even be true..."

A rueful grin, and he grabbed a flask that seemed ever present at his hip. Once it would have contained a fine Corellian whiskey. but in the tradition of his wife's people it had been full of tihaar for years now. Taking the fruit distilled liquor in hand, he tipped back the battered durasteel container and took a long pull, a satisfied gulp as it left his lips, eyes watering slightly as he offered it to Calix. It was triple distilled, and his own brew. But there was no way to make the Mandalorian liquor smooth or without a fiery burn.

"Take a drink, just don't tell the Alliance brass... Then we'll sit and tell stories. I'll tell of Wyatt, and you can listen in this instance... Oh, and after your drink face the West and pour one to the sands for our departed friend."

 

[Calix of Thyrsus]

A flask.

He should have expected that.

Accepting the offered tincture, the afro-headed boy couldn't help but be skeptical of this ritual. Alcohol seemed central to Corellian life, so he supposed it made sense that it was central to Corellian death as well?

Raising the flask to his face, the dark-skinned youth sniffed cautiously at the concoction. Often, he had seen his master partake from the hip flask. It did not seem to have any ill effect on his master.

...he just wasn't entirely certain he trusted it.

The boy's blue eyes flicked up at Julius, then back down at the flask in his hands. He would never admit to being afraid, but he was... less than comfortable at present.

At last, the boy took a sip, as had been requested of him.

When it first hit his tongue, the flavor had been... unlike anything he had tasted before. Then it hit the back of his throat and the boy lurched forward, gagging as a searing red hot sensation burned itself from his mouth down past his lungs.

Coughing several times, the boy had to be reminded to turn and face West.

Was he facing West?

Which way was West?

Awkwardly, the boy fumbled a bit, trying to recall how Julius had been facing when he'd poured a bit out. And then Calix just tried to mimic the same motion as he'd observed.

With that, the boy returned the flask.

He'd have said something, except he was still coughing and sputtering.

Julius Sedaire