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True Grit (Part II)

D O M I N U S
Writer

The Templar Sanctum, Roon
It had been quite some time since the Confederacy of Independent Systems had welcomed the world known as Roon into the fold. Since that day, the world had been a catalyst for an unparalleled sum of growth and change within the nation; for the Templar Order decided to take up residence upon this world and erected a breathtaking home by the name Sanctum. Among those who had grown due to the events of the Confederacy's reaching out to Room, Josiah Denko was about to grow even more. This because of words of guidance imparted to him by one @[member="Ember Rekali"]; a rather enigmatic character that Josiah had come to respect immensely.

This guidance came in the form of an introduction; for as the battle against the Pirates waged that fateful day, Ember informed the Templar about an art that could be found within the Force. Known as Tutaminis, it revolved around the manipulation of energy, and according to Ember, could be learned through "casting one's hand into the depth of fire...and not be burned."

Ever since his promotion to a Master of the Templar Order, Josiah had found himself consumed by a desire to grow in strength. He wanted to be worthy of the title that he now carried, and as such frequented the Training Rooms found within the Sanctum. Tirelessly, he toiled away, honing his skills; and this day in particular decided to attempt to learn a new one entirely. As his confident strides bore him along the corridors of the Sanctum, and ultimately into one of the training rooms he had prepared beforehand, there was but a hint of nervousness in the pit of his stomach.

It was the fear of failure. The fear of not living up to the title of Master.
However, he had to put that fear aside and concentrate. Wavering now would mean failing, and ultimately would cost him a hand. As such, he walked within the room and came to a halt at its center; then seated himself upon the floor. Prepared beforehand was a simple, modest stack of wood. It was time to light the flame and begin walking the path of Tutaminis.
 
D O M I N U S
Writer
The first order of business was for the Templar to calm himself and clear his mind. He needed to find his center, and then reach out to the enigmatic entity which had blessed so many with its power. His eyes lulled to a close and his breathing was steadied. There was not a sound else in the room; save for that of oxygen refreshing his lungs with each passing moment. It took quite some time for Josiah to find his center, for there was a beast which continued to rear its ugly head. Doubt. Fear. Nervousness. All three attempted to impede his progress like no other opponent he had ever faced before.

Still, he ultimately battled them back and locked them away in the furthest part of his mind. There, they would not interfere, and he was free to pursue that intimate connection with the Force that he required in order to train.

The sensation was one that transcended expression. To feel the Force wash over him and to reverberate through each and every cell in his composition...words simply could not describe! With this connection achieved, the Templar reached into his cloak and produced the simple means to ignite the flame: a box of matches. Such a simple task, the opening of the box, selecting a match, and striking it alongside the box's edge, carried so much weight that it surprised Josiah to a high degree. Nonetheless, once the flame was born within his hand, he lowered it to the wood below and spread the fire.

Once the little flame had grown into a modest blaze, the Templar's eyes lulled to a close once more. He began to meditate on the fire, focusing the Force upon it. Only through this act could he understand the flame, and thereby hope to master that which he sought.
 
D O M I N U S
Writer
It took a few moments for the young Master to truly "see" the fire. The experience was akin to being blinded by a bright light, and then awaiting everything in sight to come into focus once more immediately following. In that fashion, the perception of the Force did not come instantaneously, but took a few moments. However, before long, the Templar truly "saw" the flames through the Force. They were alive with energies that could not be seen with the naked eye and danced freely before him. Yes, this was what he needed to witness; and now, through the Force, he would attempt something he had never tried before.

He outstretched his hand, which appeared to be brimming with significantly more energ than the flames, and elevated it over the fire. There it dangled, for he needed to get a grasp on reaching out to the energies within the blaze before he attempted to stick his offhand within its depths. The heat of the fire was somewhat intimidating, and the brimming "light" that emanated from his own body was nothing short of a distraction. Surely, this would not be an easy task to accomplish right off; for he had minimal clue as to how to reach out and harness the energies...and he absolutely did not wish to mar his flesh out of carelessness.

So he took a moment to ponder.

How knew that Tutaminis revolved around guiding and dissapating the energies...so he conjured a mental image of his hand directing a flow of water. Yes, that was "solid" enough of a picture for him to exercise some coherent desire in the Force. However, doubt and risk struck him like a brick wall, right before he was about to lower his hand into the inferno...and so he waited. This was not something he was going to dive into. He was going to make absolutely sure he was ready...
 
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