Sor-Jan Xantha
Got Soup?
The Silver Temple
The courtyard of the Temple of the Silver Jedi was a place used for a variety of purposes, ranging from meditation to lightsaber training.
Today, it sounded as though it was being used to host a war.
Four training remotes simultaneously worked, firing in tandem as the aerial droids hammered at a single Jedi. The distinctive Sasori ensemble was trimmed in green, though absent any insignia. Few would bear witness and not have heard enough to know that this was the Silver Jedi's own youngling knight. A fifty year old Anzat born on Corellia, who had grown up in the Jedi Temple on Coruscant during the last days of the Old Republic.
A handful of younglings, the odd padawan, and even a knight straggler had stumbled from out of the Academy halls in order to lay witness to the small Jedi executing one of the oldest art forms known to the Jedi.
It was hailed as the Way of the Mynock. The resilience form, stressing survival over victory.
That singular description had always been lauded as the boy's best and worst trait, as it aptly depicted his own approach to conflict. Which was not to say that the Third Form required no skill. Quite the opposite, as the green blade in the child's hand never stopped moving. Unlike Shii-cho, the blade work departed from horizontal or lateral movements. Instead, it was more akin to Makashi in the fluid gestures. The subtle flicks of the wrist that kept the confined plasma close to the body as the lightsaber formed a kind of blade shield. Rotated in a series of orbits, which interchanged the alignment or position of the blade, the boy neatly absorbed eat of the shots fired by the four droids.
The match continued until, simultaneously, the remotes each gave a warbling chirp as their power cells were depleted. No longer able to continue their bombardment.
As the match ended, with Sor-Jan emerging as less the victor and more the one who had out-lasted or survived his opponents, the boy brought the lightsaber to a halt. Holding the blade close to him, he shut down the weapon and then bowed to some light applause from the impromptu audience.
Returning Paperweight to his belt, the youngling paused to reach down and pick up a canteen of water that he'd set aside. Taking a drink, and then catching his breath, the boy waited to see if anyone would come seeking knowledge of Soresu this day.
[member="Kurogan"]