Faction THR | The Force Within

[Durak'Tur]

THE FORCE WITHIN

Tag: OPEN

Beneath the Shade of the Tall-Root Trees

The afternoon light slanted through the towering tall-root trees, their long, ribbonlike leaves stirring as the wind whispered across the foothills. Ukatis carried a scent entirely its own, mineral earth, faint smoke from distant homesteads, and the subtle sweetness of flowering brush that managed to survive the storms. The refugee encampment below bustled with soft voices and clinking tools, but here, atop the rise where Durak’Tur had gathered his small group, the world felt quieter… intentionally so.

The Whiphid Jedi Master sat upon a flat, sun-warmed stone, his fur grazing the ground around him like a dark mantle. His breath rumbled in slow, steady rhythm. When he finally opened his eyes, they carried the warm amber glow of a hearth fire, patient and steady.

“Come closer,” he rumbled, his voice both gentle and resonant, as though the earth itself spoke through his chest. “The wind carries our words away when we speak too softly. And this… is a lesson the wind may try to steal.”

He waited until the students, relief workers, young Jedi, even a few curious locals settled before him. Some sat cross-legged. Others perched on crates or blankets, uncertain of what to expect from a creature so large and old.

Durak’Tur placed one clawed hand over his chest.

“The Force speaks to all things,” he began, his tone like low thunder rolling through distant canyons. “But it whispers in a language unique to each of us.”

The breeze tugged gently at their cloaks. A pair of Ukati songbirds chirped from the tall-root branches above, each melody a different pattern, yet they harmonized all the same.

“For some, the Force is sound,” Durak’Tur continued. “A chord, a song, a hum. For others, it is light, or warmth, or the shifting of shadows. Some feel it as memory. Others, as instinct. And a rare few…” His eyes narrowed fondly, “see it as color and movement, like painted threads woven around every living thing.”

He lifted a small pebble from beside him, rolling it between his claws.

“To master the Force is not to imitate your teachers,” he said, “but to understand the way you perceive it. Many spend years fighting against their own nature, trying to feel as their Masters feel, hear what their Masters hear.” A soft snort of humor escaped him. “But the Force does not reward mimicry. It rewards honesty.”

He closed his hand around the pebble. When he opened it again, the stone now hovered just above his palm, spinning slowly.

“I do not lift this stone because I hear the Force sing,” he said. “I lift it because to me, the Force is a current, like the waters beneath Ukatis’ plains. I reach into it as a fisherman reaches into a river… feeling where the flow is strongest, where it collects, where it carries.”

The pebble drifted back down, nestling in his palm.

Durak’Tur looked at each student in turn, his gaze deep but never sharp.

“Before we speak of techniques or discipline,” he said softly, “you must learn this: How does the Force speak to you? Find that answer, and you will have taken your first true step toward mastery.”

He leaned back slightly, letting the wind pass through the clearing again.

“Now,” he rumbled, inviting, warm,

“Tell me how you listen.”


​

​

​

 

[Silas Torren]

TO LEARN

TAG: OPEN​

Silas arrived quietly, almost unnoticed.

He preferred it that way.

While the others settled closer to Master Durak’Tur, forming a loose arc around the sun-warmed stone where the Whiphid sat, Silas lingered at the outer edge of the rise. He found a spot slightly downhill beneath the broad shadow of a tall-root tree. From there he could hear perfectly. Durak’Tur’s voice carried with the calm weight of shifting mountains, but he didn’t have to be seen.

He slid to the ground with a muted exhale, boots folding beneath him, hands resting loosely on his thighs. The breeze tugged at the stray curls at his forehead, but he barely moved, listening to every word.

The Force speaks differently to each of us… mimicry is not the path to mastery… honesty brings us closer to the truth…

Durak’Tur’s lesson sank in with a quiet pressure that Silas felt more in his chest than in his mind. He watched the pebble rise and spin, simple, controlled, effortless. The kind of effortlessness that only came from years of discipline he was still trying to find in himself.

When the Whiphid asked how each student listened, Silas’s shoulders tightened before he could stop them.

Several Padawans and locals spoke first—some shyly, some with confident certainty. He waited, letting the flow of their voices fill the clearing while he looked at the ground, tracing a groove in the dirt with his thumb.

Only when a gentle lull settled… only when he felt the Master’s attention widen and welcome further answers… did Silas speak.

Softly.

Barely above the breeze.

“…Master Durak’Tur.”

A few heads turned, but most didn’t bother; his voice wasn’t one that demanded space. He lifted his chin just enough to meet the Whiphid’s eyes from afar, his posture straight but unassuming.

“I’m… still trying to understand how it speaks to me,” he admitted, though each word felt like it had to be coaxed past a barrier. “It doesn’t sound like anything. Not to me.”

He hesitated, searching.

“It’s more like… a shift,” he said at last. “A change in how things move. Or how they’re about to move.”

His gaze flicked away again, down to his hands.

“I notice it more than I hear it.”

A pause.

“And sometimes… I notice it too quickly.”

He cleared his throat softly, almost apologetically.

“I’m not sure if that’s listening. But it’s what I have right now.”

Silas didn’t ask for guidance; he simply offered the truth and let it stand, folding back into the quiet, attentive posture he’d held before. His presence was small, steady, and unobtrusive, like someone hoping to learn without drawing more attention than necessary.

And yet, through all of it, he listened to Durak’Tur with absolute, focused intent.

 

[Nien]

Durak'Tur Silas Torren​

Nien shifted closer on his cushion, small three-fingered hands folded in his lap. His amber eyes blinked up at Durak'Tur with earnest concentration and quiet awe. His voice, soft but clear, carried the gentle, thoughtful cadence of his people.

"Master Durak'Tur…" he began, ears giving a tiny twitch, "Listen to the Force, I do. But not… not in ways others do."

He pressed a hand lightly to his own chest, mimicking the Whiphid's earlier gesture.

"Small, the Force feels. Like a spark. A warm ember inside my heart." His smile was shy but bright. "When I am quiet, still, it grows, a soft light spreading through me. Like sunrise wrapped around my bones."

He exhaled slowly, the breath carrying a faint hum,almost musical, but unintentional, the kind that always slipped out when he felt peaceful.

"Others speak of sound or movement." He shook his head gently. "To me, the Force is kindness. Warmth given, warmth returned." Nien's eyes lifted to the breeze stirring the tall-root leaves. "When someone hurts, the ember flickers. When someone is happy, it brightens their outlook. When life trembles, it trembles with it."

He leaned forward slightly, his posture small and sincere, quietly earnest, as though offering a gentle secret.

"So when I listen... I search for warmth. For gentleness. For the quiet, steady glow within that lets me sense life nearby, and when life is close, I know it needs me."

A tiny smile curved his lips, pure and hopeful.

"That is how the Force speaks. Like light that wants to be shared."

 

[Caden Larsen]

Caden Larsen

​

"I'm a Jedi Consular, study and use the Force to defend and protect others."

TAGS: Durak'Tur | @ OPEN
FURTHER INFO: BIO
CURRENT LOCATION: Ukatis | Refugee Encampment | Near the Tall-Root Trees
OBJECTIVE: Meet Other Jedi | Learn from Fellow Jedi | Grow in the Force

In light of now officially becoming a Padawan Learner under the tutelage of Jedi Knight Anneliese Kaohal-Delaine it was here the Force was drawing Caden to Ukatis. Providing aid and support to the refugees in the encampment but there was a calling from the Force that reached out to the young Padawan. It led the path to allow Caden to find Jedi Master; Durak'Tur by the shade.

"Master, hope it's not too late to join you all, Caden... Caden Larsen."

The ripples felt prior to coming before the Jedi Master and the group of fellow Jedi students, Caden felt and sensed the Force was very strong here as if he had found where one was supposed to be. Bowing his head over to the group that gathered, Caden lowering himself down onto the ground and crossed his legs over. Ready to engage when it was deemed appropriate.

"Hmm, listening to the Force, uh, well Master, to me the Force feels like it reaches out to me and I reach out to it. Like a current of electricity sending its energy through my body and mind. I then release it back out to where it would move onto next."

A description that might be similar to a few Jedi's own perspective in how they feel, listen or use the Force when energy can be manipulated within one's body and mind. An aspiring Jedi Consular, Caden remains open minded to learn more from others. Accepting different opinions and points of view in how the Force can be explained and taught to all who seek knowledge.

 

[Anneliese Kaohal-Delaine]

​

Tags: @open Corazona von Ascania Caden Larsen


At the very edge of Durak'Tur's gathering—where sunlight thins into shadow and the tall-root trees bend the air into something soft—Anneliese Kaohal let herself ease into the moment with no intention of being anything but present.

She shrugged out of her outer robe first. The fabric slid from her shoulders with a muted whisper, catching briefly on the copper-dark curls that framed her face before she draped it over a broad, timeworn root. Light caught in those curls as she moved—fiery coils, thick and wild, the kind of texture that refused discipline even on her best days. The breeze toyed with them now, lifting a few strands across her freckled cheek.

She kicked off her boots next. Barefoot, she pressed her soles into the earth—freckled skin against cool soil, grounding instantly. Tiny pebbles and the uneven grain of the ground didn't bother her; if anything, she adjusted to it with an unconscious shift of her stance, like her body seeking the rhythm of the land.

Her sleeveless tunic revealed arms dusted with sun-kissed freckles, scattered in patterns like constellations across warm, amber-gold skin. The afternoon light filtered through the canopy, painting her skin in shifting patches of brightness and shadow.

Her eyes—verdant, deep jade with faint flecks of gold near the iris—didn't focus on Durak'Tur, nor the students, nor even Caden. They moved slowly, lightly, as if taking small samples of the world rather than studying it. Every shift of her gaze felt unhurried, instinctual.


She wasn't observing the lesson.
She was breathing.
And the world breathed back.


The earth's pulse under her feet.
A quiet tremor through the roots.


Warm currents of air carrying dust, pollen, distant hearth-smoke. A pair of songbirds leaping branch to branch. Caden's posture settling as he found his place.

Ashla brushed her senses in subtle, natural ways—through scent, through texture, through the sway of leaves. She didn't reach for it; she didn't need to. It was as familiar to her as her own heartbeat.

Her curls shifted again in the wind, catching a glint of reddish gold. Freckles brightened across her shoulders as the sun leaned through a break in the foliage. Her breath deepened, steady and slow, as though each inhalation tethered her more firmly to the soil beneath her.


No tension.
No vigilance.
No role to fulfill.


Just a grounded Alpha at rest, barefoot in the Ukati soil, letting the land speak its quiet truths through her skin and bones.

This—this soft wildness, this open space, this slow afternoon light— was just like home to her.

 

[Durak'Tur]

LISTEN

Tag: Silas Torren | Nien | Caden Larsen | Anneliese Kaohal-Delaine

The Whiphid listened.

Truly listened.

Not only to their words but to the way the Force stirred around them, each voice shaping the air, each presence brushing against the quiet flow that threaded the clearing. When Silas finished, when Nien’s ember-warm truth settled, and when Caden’s electricity rippled through the group, Durak’Tur drew a slow breath that seemed to settle the entire hillside.

His eyes opened again, deep amber, steady, warm.

He inclined his head first toward the young Lorrdian at the edge of the gathering.

“Silas Torren,” Durak’Tur rumbled gently, his voice carrying without effort to where the boy sat half-hidden beneath the shadow of the tall-root tree. “You speak of noticing change, subtle, swift, sometimes racing ahead of your thoughts.”

He touched a single claw to the earth, tracing a faint line in the soil.

“That is listening, young one. Do not doubt it.”

He let the wind move between them, soft and affirming.

“Some Jedi hear the Force as melody. Some feel it as heat. You, Silas, perceive motion before it arrives. The Lorrdian talent for reading intention… body… trajectory… it is not separate from the Force. It is simply one of the ways it chooses you.”

A low hum resonated in his chest, not amusement, but approval.

“You do not need volume to be heard by the Force. Nor by me. What you notice… you notice keenly. Do not fear the quickness of your insight. Fear only ignoring it.”

Durak’Tur turned next to the small green figure perched upon his cushion, ears tilted forward with earnest sincerity. The Whiphid’s expression softened even further.

“Nien,” he said, voice sinking into a deeper warmth. “You describe the Force as a glow, a kindness echoing outward. A sunrise that lives inside you.”

He placed his palm over his own massive chest again.

“That ember you feel… it is no small thing. Some Jedi spend decades seeking that light. You carry it effortlessly. You share it even more effortlessly.”

A soft rumble like distant thunder vibrated through the ground beneath them.

“You listen with compassion. And compassion is among the purest languages the Force speaks.”

Durak’Tur shifted his attention toward the newly arrived human Padawan, offering a respectful nod as Caden settled cross-legged among the others.

“Welcome, Caden Larsen . The currents you describe… they echo strongly through you. Electricity, flow, transmission, an exchange between you and the living galaxy.”

He slowly opened both of his hands, palms spread wide.

“The Force is movement. It is energy that seeks expression. Some feel only its guidance; you feel its circuit, the way it moves through, out, and onward.”

A faint smile pulled at the corner of his tusked mouth.

“Hold fast to that awareness. It will serve you well in the path of the Consular. For those who heal, guide, or mediate often must act as conduits, letting light pass through them without clinging to it.”

When Durak’Tur finally turned his gaze toward Anneliese Kaohal-Delaine , a different kind of stillness entered his posture, not reverence, but understanding. He watched the way she spread her toes into the soil, how the tall-root roots welcomed her, how the land’s pulse folded around her like an old friend.

“Knight Kaohal-Delaine,” he murmured, “you do not listen to the Force.”

His eyes warmed, almost gleaming.

“You listen with it.”

The breeze picked up slightly, circling her before curling back through the clearing.

“You walk in harmony, instinctive and rooted. You do not reach outward… because the world already rises to meet you. Through scent, through skin, through earth, through breath.”

He inclined his head, not in deference, but in acknowledgment of an equal truth.

“You remind us that the Force is not always distant or mysterious. Sometimes it is simply… home.”

Durak’Tur let silence settle for a moment, full, rich, unhurried. The tall-root leaves rustled softly overhead as though the trees themselves leaned in.

“Each of you listens differently,” he said, finally. “And that difference is not a barrier. It is the beginning.”

He placed the pebble from before on the stone beside him.

“Diversity in perception strengthens the Jedi, just as many roots strengthen a single tree. Do not abandon your way of hearing the Force. Refine it. Trust it.”

His voice sank into a near-whisper, yet somehow carried with even greater clarity.

“The Force chose to speak to you this way. Honor that. And you will walk farther than you think.”

He leaned back, letting the afternoon light gather against his fur.

“Now… let us continue.”​

 

[Corazona von Ascania]

Lingering in the periphery of the gathering, Cora looked on as Durak'Tur interacted with the students. The Whipid had agreed to impart a few lessons of wisdom unto Ukatis before the winds of the Force took him elsewhere.

She was grateful. They could all use a bit of grounding in this time of turmoil, Force sensitive or not, and the Jedi Master brought with him the sort of calm that radiated deep into the earth itself as much as it rose to meet the forested canopy above them.

Cora blinked into the afternoon light as something caught her eye. A familiar mane of red coils, catching the sun as they stirred gently in the breeze. It took a few long moments of studying the figure from behind for recognition to worm its way in-

-and maybe the Force had something to do with that, too.

Cora's steps were slow and measured, careful not to disturb the lesson as she approached. With neither a greeting nor so much as a word, she slipped beside Annie and settled into the cool grass. For a few long moments, she simply breathed, centering herself in the moment.

Then, she placed a hand on Annie's freckled shoulder.

"I can't tell you what joy it brings me to see you again," she murmured, low and warm. "You are always welcome here, Annie."

Anneliese Kaohal-Delaine

 

[Caden Larsen]

Caden Larsen

​

"I'm a Jedi Consular, study and use the Force to defend and protect others."

TAGS: Durak'Tur | Anneliese Kaohal-Delaine | Corazona von Ascania
FURTHER INFO: BIO
CURRENT LOCATION: Ukatis | Refugee Encampment | Near the Tall-Root Trees
OBJECTIVE: Meet Other Jedi | Learn from Fellow Jedi | Grow in the Force

Sat down comfortably and reassured that he wasn't too late in attending this lesson based on the Force itself where Caden gave his perspective on what the Force is like to him. During the session while listening to the Whipid Jedi Master Caden had also detected the presence of his master, Jedi Knight; Anneliese Kaohal-Delaine, noticed that she was speaking with another fellow Jedi.

"Master... Nice to see you here."

The words were spoken quietly and in a soft tone towards Anneliese and if he had heard right that Corazona had mentioned using the Force to heal others. Interests began to rise within Caden as becoming a Healer while learning and training as a Jedi were one of the specialisations that caught his attention. It will be on his mind to approach Corazona in learning from them in that art.

"I understand, Master. At times, it is an ally and a part of me as well as the Force being present within all matters of life and more. It's bound in everything we can feel, hear, see and sense I hope to learn more from you and other masters."

Sat on the ground taking in the words that Jedi Master; Durak'Tur who had been acknowledging everyone's opinions and views in how the Force operates around and within them. All while Caden was listening and taking on board what everyone was sharing in the session. It was good to experience this at the first phase and there is perhaps more to come later on.

 

[Anneliese Kaohal-Delaine]

​

Tags: @open Caden Larsen Corazona von Ascania


The tall-root trees whispered in the wind, their ribbonlike leaves shifting sunlight in slow, dappled waves across the clearing. Durak'Tur's voice rumbled through the earth, patient and deep, and those gathered leaned toward him like seedlings toward warmth.

Anneliese remained at the fringes—barefoot on the soil, curls lit like copper fire in the sun, quiet as the land itself. The breeze toyed with the spirals of her hair, revealing freckles scattered across her shoulders and the calm, grounded ease in her posture. Her verdant eyes flicked once toward Caden when he subtly sought her in the crowd; she offered him a soft, steady nod, the smallest curve of a smile, before returning to her gentle presence with the earth.

Her senses were open in that instinctive, primal way she'd grown into—feeling the hum beneath her feet, the pulse of trees, the breath of those nearby. So it wasn't sight that alerted her first.

It was familiarity.

A presence that brushed her awareness like a chord half-forgotten yet instantly recognized.

Cora had always carried a particular resonance—warmth, tempered by discipline; steadiness, touched by the melancholy of those who've served long. Annie felt it approach before she could place the memory. Then the scent of worn travel fabric, the rhythm of her step, the way the sunlight struck a certain angle—

Recognition bloomed.

When Cora finally slipped into the grass beside her, quiet and respectful of the lesson's flow, Annie's breath caught—not sharply, but with that deep, quiet ache of something unexpectedly restored. She did not turn immediately. She let the moment settle around them, let the earth breathe once more, let the past and present align.

Then Cora's hand rested against her freckled shoulder—warm, steady, grounding.

"I can't tell you what joy it brings me to see you again," she murmured. "You are always welcome here, Annie."

For Annie, the words landed like sunlight through stormclouds.

Her response was not verbal. Not at first.

She pivoted toward Cora, curls shifting, jade eyes bright with a mix of surprise and emotion that softened her usually steady composure. She stepped forward—not hurried, but with the unfiltered sincerity of someone who'd long missed a soul she once trusted deeply—and wrapped her arms around her.

A solid, heartfelt embrace.
One of reunion.

One of someone who had grown far beyond the girl she once was, but still carried every bond with reverence.

Her voice, when it came, was quiet—low enough not to pull attention from Durak'Tur's lesson, warm enough to speak years' worth of meaning in a few syllables.

"Cora… It’s so good to see you."

Nothing elaborate.
Nothing grand.
Just truth.

She eased back only slightly, enough to see Cora's face, her own expression open in a way few saw anymore—older now, steadier, a touch of wildness in her aura that hadn't been there in her Padawan years. A woman forged by her people, by fire and faith and responsibility, yet still profoundly capable of tenderness.

The reunion hung between them—bittersweet, grounding, radiant in its quiet joy—while the lesson continued beyond, the wind whispering through the tall-root canopy like a blessing.

 

[Corazona von Ascania]

A soft laugh slipped from Cora as Anneliese embraced her. The sound was light and sincere, like bells nudging the wind.

It took a moment for her to return the gesture. When she wrapped her arms around the redhead, the growing curve of Cora's abdomen would brush briefly against the flat plane of Annie's stomach.

"Ashla, look at you," she murmured as they pulled back to observe each other in earnest. The cherubic softness of girlhood had faded from Annie's face, her features settling into the angular lines of a young woman. Just as fierce as she'd been years ago, but stepped in the sort of wisdom that couldn't be taught.

"You've grown, Annie," Cora beamed. "Valery must be proud. You'll have to catch me up on where you've been."

Her hand would raise to brush an errant red curl from Annie's face, only to watch it fall stubbornly back in place.

In an echo of Durak'Tur's lesson, they'd inadvertently given their own answer of how the Force speaks - through love.

Cora took a half step back, letting her hand rest on Annie's arm. She smiled to Padawan Larsen before addressing this lesson's instructor.

"Apologies, Master Durak'Tur. I couldn't help myself when I saw a familiar face."

Anneliese Kaohal-Delaine Caden Larsen Durak'Tur

 

[Durak'Tur]

NEW GREETINGS

Tag: Silas Torren | Nien | Caden Larsen | Anneliese Kaohal-Delaine | Corazona von Ascania

The Whiphid’s attention drifted like a slow, steady tide across the students before him. He had listened to Silas’ quiet truth, to Nien’s ember-warm insight, to Caden’s current of living energy… and now, as the breeze shifted, he turned his head slightly, massive but deliberate, toward the faint murmur of voices at the edge of the gathering.

Anneliese Kaohal-Delaine’s grounded presence was unmistakable; she was part of the land beneath her feet. But beside her, Durak’Tur sensed the hesitant flutter of someone newly arrived. A ripple in the atmosphere, light but earnest.

Corazona von Ascania.

He did not intrude upon their conversation, only felt the shape of it. A gentle inquiry, a healer’s heart speaking softly of the Force’s kindness. A quiet apology, offered with sincerity and the unmistakable wish not to disturb.

Durak’Tur’s tusks dipped a fraction in a subtle, approving nod.

Interruptions born of compassion were no interruptions at all.

And the Force, he knew, often threaded students together long before they realized the value of the meeting.

When Cora stepped back and Anneliese returned her attention to the circle, Durak’Tur let a rumbling breath settle the clearing again, never chastising, never sharp. Only welcoming.

Caden’s soft greeting to his Master drew Durak’Tur’s gaze at last. The Whiphid lowered his chin slightly, acknowledging both the Padawan’s respect and the quiet wonder stirring inside him.

“You listen well, Caden Larsen,” Durak’Tur said, his voice deep as shifting stone. “Not only to the Force, but to those around you. That is a trait many overlook.”

He gestured, slow, open-palmed, toward the place where Anneliese and Corazona had spoken.

“The Force does not gather people by accident. When you hear another speak of healing… when your spirit leans toward that calling… it is worth listening to.”

He let the words settle like soft dust.

“You feel the Force as a current. A movement through you and beyond you. Healers often sense it that way, life flowing into life, strength into weakness, balance into pain.”

Durak’Tur’s eyes warmed as he continued.

“Do not rush the path of healing. But do not turn away from it either. You will know, in time, if the Force draws you there.”

The tall-root leaves shifted overhead, scattering dappled sunlight across the group.

“And know this: learning from many masters does not diminish your bond with your own. It strengthens you, much as rivers strengthen the sea.”

Durak’Tur’s gaze swept the circle once more, settling the group in a shared calm.

“Your presence here, each of you, is part of the lesson,” he murmured. “How you listen to the Force. How you listen to one another.”

A soft rumble, not loud, but warm, rolled from his chest.

“Now… let us continue.”​

 

[Anneliese Kaohal-Delaine]

​

Tags: Corazona von Ascania


Anneliese's nod to Durak'Tur was small but sincere, a quiet apology carried in the dip of her chin and the softening of her jade eyes. Her curls, sun-lit copper and wildfire red, shifted with the motion—one stubborn ringlet falling forward again across her cheek.

Only when she turned back to Cora did the fragile composure in her face tremble.

Her gaze dropped—unbidden, instinctive—to the gentle swell beneath Cora's robes. The breath caught in her chest, sharp and brilliant. Tears gathered before she could stop them, turning her green eyes glassy, bright as riverstone struck by sunlight.

"Cora…" The word left her as a whisper, shaped around awe and joy. "Ashla's light— you're…"

She didn't finish it. She didn't have to. The warmth in her expression spoke the rest.

A slow exhale steadied her as she brushed the back of her knuckles lightly along Cora's arm, grounding herself in the moment.

When the question came—Where have you been?—Anneliese's posture shifted, shoulders drawing back, not with pride but with the weight and clarity of remembered trials.

"I took leave, went home," she said softly. "Back to Quilura. Back to… everything I that I needed answers from — answers only I could find."

Sunlight flickered over her freckles as she looked past Cora for a moment, toward the open grounds around them—wide sky, rustling grass, the living Force moving like breath through all of it.

"I claimed my heritage. Learned the old ways. The laws, the rites, the fire that shaped my people. And the clans… they're one again. Under a single banner." A small, almost incredulous breath of a laugh. The laugh faded as her gaze lowered again, curls slipping like soft flame around her face.

"I missed everything here," she admitted. "Val… the Order… what the Empire's done in the Core." Her throat tightened. "I haven't seen her. Not since before I left. And with everything happening—"

She stopped. Pressed her lips together. The pain was quiet but unmistakable.

"But I'm doing what she'd want me to do."

She turned slightly, lifting a hand to gesture toward the young figures nearby.

"That's Caden. My Padawan. And his sister. And another—" her voice warmed, lightening, "—who isn’t here, Pari. She reminds me so much of myself I'm half convinced the Force is teasing me."

A breath, small but full, settled her again.

"I'm passing the torch, Cora. Doing my part. However small it feels some days."

Then her jade eyes met Cora's once more, glowing with the steadiness of someone newly forged, newly sure.

"And I'm really, really glad you're here."

 

[Corazona von Ascania]

Cora couldn't help the way the gentle curve of her smile broadened as she soaked in Anneliese's awe. Even with the galaxy gone awry, life went on. Carrying a child was the most natural expression of that.

"Quilura," she repeated softly. So Annie had gone home, back to her people. The path of the Jedi was not linear, and sometimes detours became lessons unto themselves. "It sounds as though you've gained as much from the experience as your people have from your return."

Cora let her hand fall against Annie's shoulder, squeezing in a gentle gesture meant to comfort. The light in her own gaze dimmed, but the warmth remained. "You were right where you needed to be - so many of our comrades fell on Coruscant, Arkania, and Atrisia." A moment of hesitation passed as she wondered how to concisely word what came next. "Valery and her followers have found their calling on Odessen."

Cora followed the motion of Annie's hand toward Caden and his sister. "Three padawans," she murmured. "They'll keep you busy for certain. But that's part of our calling - to teach the next generation of Jedi."

Just as Durak'Tur was doing right now.

The blonde Jedi offered a smile to Caden, one that drifted like smoke over to the Whipid teacher.

"Patient though the instructor is, I best not distract everyone from his lesson. I am certain that our paths will cross again, and soon." Cora dipped her head, unable to hide pleasure at seeing Annie not only alive, but stepping into a leadership role of her own. "Be well, Annie. And Padawan Larsen," she addressed Caden directly now with a hint of mirth, "do keep her in line."

Anneliese Kaohal-Delaine Caden Larsen Durak'Tur

 

[Caden Larsen]

Caden Larsen

​

"I'm a Jedi Consular, study and use the Force to defend and protect others."

TAGS: Durak'Tur | Anneliese Kaohal-Delaine | Corazona von Ascania
FURTHER INFO: BIO
CURRENT LOCATION: Ukatis | Refugee Encampment | Near the Tall-Root Trees
OBJECTIVE: Meet Other Jedi | Learn from Fellow Jedi | Grow in the Force

The session still active among those who are here attending the class that Jedi Master Durak'Tur was hosting and sharing his experiences, knowledge and wisdom to all fellow Jedi in attendance. It had Caden invested in the lesson that the Jedi Master was teaching to him and other Jedi attending. A nod from his head to Durak'Tur as Caden's own perspectives were acknowledged by the Jedi Master which was great and satisfying to hear for Caden while the class was in session. The young Padawan Learner stood near his master, Jedi Knight Anneliese Kaohal-Delaine and hearing another Jedi Knight Corazona von Ascania.

"Hmm seems Master Durak'Tur wants us all to focus inwards, on the Force, ourselves and each other. Healing huh that's what I'm wanting to learn and practice to help others."

Inner thoughts and speaking to himself quietly when there were pauses between fellow Jedi that answered or interacted with the Whipid Jedi Master. The Force energy presence from Durak'Tur, Corazona, Anneliese and other Jedi in attendance was detected and felt as Caden took a few moments to listen slightly deeper into the Force that surrounded and was bound inside everyone and everything. The levels that Caden can sense throughout indicated to him that all lifeforms have different signatures within the Force it'll be interesting to either study or train in combative and non-combative scenarios with them all.

"Hmm? Keep her in line master? Is there something I should know?"

The words from Corazona about Anneliese to Caden left him wondering what he wasn't aware of. All while taking it as a little jest between two close friends from the way both Jedi Knights seem to communicate and embrace each other's presence together. A slight smile appeared on his face as he gave a nod of respect over to Corazona while she was taking her leave from the class being held. In any case there is a bond always between a Master and a student so he would be looking out for Anneliese as she will be guiding and looking out for him throughout their studies and training as Jedi.

"Take care master. Hope to see you again, and soon."