To Conquer Fear

[Arlan Zy'rosh]

Arlan watched as Serra revealed the old injury on her shoulder, taking to heart the lesson that came with it. If a real saber had hit his leg the way Serra's training blade had he would be missing a leg fright now, and the thought of it was harrowing. A cold sweat began to form upon Arlan as he thought of the magnitude of his carelessness, and the sheer danger a Lightsaber posed. Even more so was the thought of his world changing now, and the new and terrible forces he would be faced with. In his old life there were no wielders of the Force, no warriors carrying blades that could slice through the hardest metal. Now though he would be thrust into a world where he had no choice but to confront that sort on a day to day basis. Thankfully all he had met so far were friendly, but Arlan knew so much would not always be true. The thought of the Sith he and Serra faced loomed in his memory, and Arlan was unsure if he could face such again.

Then he felt it, a slow warming feeling as if a low flame was being held close to his skin. For some odd reason, along with the pain, Arlan's hesitance and fear began to subside as well. His eyes opened to see Serra kneeling before him, her hands placed upon his wound with a soft glow surrounding them. Eventually, the pain had gone altogether and Arlan could not be but amazed at the feat Serra had just accomplished on his behalf. He stood, bending his knee to ensure the pain had truly vanished. As he did though his eyes turned to Serra who, to his amazement, fell backwards on her rear-end in a rather comical way.

"Master....are you okay?" Arlan asked as he looked at her with bewilderment. "I didn't think I hit you?" He asked taking a step towards Serra, not so much worried as he was generally confused. Serra had been a strong person, both physical and mentally, since he had met her and it wasn't like her to do such things to his knowledge. It was almost as if she was tired, but he doubted their spar had taken quite that much out of her. Then it hit him. Healing his injury must have taxed her more than he knew. Nodding Arlan looked towards Serra and smiled. "I appreciate what you have done for me Master, but if such things harm you then perhaps you should not." Arlan spoke plainly. "I mean no disrespect."

[member="Seraphina Shel'tah"]

 

[Seraphina Shel'tah]

The Twi'lek lifted a pink hand, waiving it slightly from side to side in a gesture that meant No as she took a few labored breaths before speaking. "No, no. I'm fine." Her green eyes raised to meet Arlan's. "You didn't hit me." She smiled, her eyes closing for a few moments while she focused on centering herself and collecting her energy once more. A minute or two of silence would pass between the two as she steadied her breath, her hands resting on her knees. "When I had spoken earlier of each Jedi having their own proficiencies and mastered abilities, this is sort of an example of that."

Sera appreciated his concern for her. She was hardly a Jedi Healer by any stretch of the term, but simple wounds and cuts she could mend with her limited knowledge. "I'm not a veteran healer. It takes much more focus and energy for me to be able to mend what many of the more prominent healers would consider simple wounds." The woman rotated her head from side to side a few times, exercising her neck muscles that were a bit tensed. "Remember how I told you that most of my ability was dedicated to telekinesis? I wasn't just saying that to pad your confidence. What looks like a simple task to me to use my mind is a daunting task when it comes to other aspects of the Force I am less trained with. But that doesn't mean I don't train myself to become stronger when the opportunity arises. So that's why I did what I did. It helps you just as much as it benefits me."

[member="Arlan Zy'rosh"]

 

[Arlan Zy'rosh]

A wave of relief rushed over Arlan when Serra revealed that she was in fact in no great deal of pain or harm. It had been startling seeing the person he believed insurmountable taken aback, even for a second, but then again from the start she had said everyone has their own strengths and weaknesses. Such a fine example of that fact Arlan could not have asked for, and now he knew Serra's words had not simply been to stroke his ego. There was both solace and apprehension in that fact, for while he now knew it was possible to reach his master's level one day so too did he know that she was not invincible. Of course that was not to say Serra was lacking in ability, just that Arlan had gotten a better look at her sheer mortality. For a moment his was abash with silence, no words coming to his mind as he thought back on the loss he had suffered at the outset of this little adventure, but his master's words drew Arlan back to reality and the task at hand.

"I see. Forgive me, I truly did believe your words to be solely for my benefit." Arlan sighed. "It was foolish of me to doubt your words, something I will not do again. I should know better anyhow, from where I came from hesitation could very well cost lives. No doubt Jedi face similar circumstances." Arlan shook his head and ran a hand through his hair, closing his eyes and smiling with embarrassment. "After seeing you in action I was hard pressed to think you had any shortcomings. No one is perfect though, I should know that as well." Arlan reaffirmed his mistake and looked to Serra. "I have to ask you though. If the Force is limitless, and the things a person does with it limited to their imagination, how does one find their discipline?" Arlan focused on his master's words, wondering all the while what her answer would be. Was it luck,Did Jedi just randomly discover what they excel at with trial and error; or was it something fated to be, like a person was always drawn to that facet of the Force?

[member="Seraphina Shel'tah"]

 

[Seraphina Shel'tah]

"My words are for your benefit, but in a different way than you had expected. It's possible to learn many aspects of the Force and utilize them, though unless you are lucky enough to be born of a race that lives longer lives, a niche to master is generally the norm. Others choose to learn a bit of everything, but master in nothing. That of course, is fine too. In the end, you must choose what is best for you." There was a few moments of silence between her words as the Twi'lek considered how best to answer her student's question. For her it was simple. It was how she identified herself with the Force. For others to discover their talents it was likely a combination of teaching and trial.

"For some it's accidental." She smiled, a slight bob and tilt of her head and a small shrug of the shoulders. "Like me, I stumbled upon telekinetics as a child seemingly by luck. Ever since that day I've been dedicated to learning more about it, to find every little secret that side of the Force holds." Both hands ran down the back of her lekku before falling to rest upon her waist. "Most others I suspect either become enthralled with a particular aspect of the Force when they first learn of the ability through training or teachings. That, or they came from a background where similar talents still apply to the Force, such as the reason I practice the Ataru form of lightsaber combat because I am also a dancer."

[member="Arlan Zy'rosh"]

 

[Arlan Zy'rosh]

Arlan craned his neck a bit and sighed with exasperation as Serra spoke. It was not that he was not interested in what she had to say, nor bored by her words, just that often he found himself utterly lost in the many paths a Jedi can take. Arlan knew he was no champion of the good, no hero meant to save lost souls for perilous evil. He knew he was not meant to brave untold dangers, nor cause others to reevaluate their lives. He was a fighter, plain and simple. He had been a fighter all of his life and he was a fighter even now. Even among the Jedi people of that sort were needed, that was never in question, but Arlan's lack of ability in Jedi arts caused him to have a bit of an identity crisis. How was he supposed to be the fighter he had always been when he was barely able to perform the most basic of exercises? That was the question that clawed at the back of Arlan's mind at every turn, burrowing itself into his subconscious. Another sigh would erupt as he crossed his arms and shook his head, his eyes drifting up to meet his master's with a pained look.

"I don't think I'm lucky enough to just stumble upon some hidden talent I've yet to realize I posses." Arlan pleaded. "Nor am I the kind to give up outright. I'll keep at it, always. Just you watch Master, I'll become better with a Lightsaber and more skilled with the Force than any master to date." Arlan said with a smirk and a nod. "It may take someone like me a long time before I'm capable of doing anything, but once I get there nothing is gonna stop me. If I have you leading the way I have no doubt in my mind that I'll become a Jedi of note one day, and I'll rid myself of the things that haunt my dreams." A sorrowful look spread across Arlan's face where just moments ago hope had brazenly been presented. Even now it was hard for him to forget his family, forget the life he could have lived. Arlan had never been once to cling to the past before but in recent years he had found himself unable to do anything but just that. Training had levitated some of the burden and guilt he felt, but those memories are an ever present factor in the life of Arlan Zy'rosh.

[member="Seraphina Shel'tah"]