Private What The Dawn Finds

[Anneliese Kaohal-Delaine]

Kael Daikan

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The first breath of dawn stirred the Gallo Mountains, pale light spilling through the mist that coiled around the terraces of Shiraya's Sanctuary. The waterfalls murmured below, their constant rhythm echoing the steady beat of a heart long-disciplined by battle and prayer alike.

Anneliese Kaohal moved barefoot across the Training Terrace, the stone slick with mountain dew, grounding her in the pulse of Naboo itself. Her outer robes and boots were folded neatly atop a nearby boulder — a ritual of order before the storm. She wore fitted training pants and a cropped, high-top tank that revealed the curve of her midriff and the tribal songmarks spiraling along her left thigh and up her side, the ink glinting faintly in the rising light. Across her lower back, the mark of the bleeding crescent moon — once a scar of torment — glowed softly like an ember.

Every breath was deliberate. Every motion, alive.

She began slow — arms extending, body shifting in a smooth kata — but with each rotation, her pace quickened. What began as grace soon became power incarnate. Her movements carried a raw, coiled precision, a symphony of strength and restraint. The air stirred violently with each strike; the dew scattered beneath her steps.

Her demure frame was a lie to the untrained eye — what looked delicate was forged of tempered steel. The flex of muscle along her arms and abdomen caught the light like bronze fire, her body an instrument tuned by survival, scar, and spirit.

When she pivoted — hair whipping in the morning wind — the quiet hum of the Force rippled around her. The mountain itself seemed to listen.

Each strike flowed into the next, each breath a verse of her lineage — the rhythm of the Kaohal, the pulse of the wild, the song of Ashyra carried in her veins. She was not only performing a kata — she was remembering. Calling on her forebears, feeling their whispers rise from the earth beneath her feet.

She came to a halt at the terrace's edge, arm extended, palm open to the horizon. The first full rays of dawn split the mist, painting her copper skin in molten gold. Her eyes — steady, calm, knowing — reflected both peace and danger, the twin truths she carried.

The world was still. The mountain breathed with her.

And though her senses remained focused inward, a subtle flicker in the Force brushed her awareness — distant, faint, but alive. Another presence nearby. Watching.

She said nothing. Just let the silence stretch, the mountain and her heartbeat one and the same — the daughter of Ashyra at dawn.

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[Kael Daikan]

Anneliese Kaohal-Delaine

What had brought Kael Daikan to Naboo was only partially known to even him - seeking out what the Galaxy held for him to find, what might pave the way for the next step of his journey. His goal, to become a Jedi like his fallen father before him. Armed with a blue saber, hidden behind his green training robes, he had found himself on this planet, the home of a very well-known Republic order.

But joining said Republic was not on his mind - furthering his studies in the art of the Jedi, and becoming a Jedi himself, took precedence. He did not have the sensitivity to the Force that his father, or many of those around him did - but he found himself traversing the lands towards a mountain as the sun threatened to break free in the horizon. The truest pulse of the Force to him came from the memories housed within the hilt that he carried at his side.

And that's when he noticed someone, up on the mountain - or at least, he thought he did. His curiosity piqued, he made his way up to the Terrace, finding himself at or at least near her level, watching the last bits of her routine from afar - but keeping his steps light so as to not disturb her.

He said nothing as well - though partially because he was not sure if his voice would carry - or what he would say, even. Or if she would be upset that he had inadvertently been watching like that. Had she noticed him? Or perhaps he could leave her to her routine. His uncertainty wavered in the air, clear as day before him.

 

[Anneliese Kaohal-Delaine]

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Tags: Kael Daikan


Anneliese's arms fell slowly to her sides, fingers lingering in the air as if reluctant to leave the rhythm of the kata. Her chest rose and fell with even, measured breaths, the soft sheen of dew and sweat catching the pale light of dawn across her skin. Every line of her body spoke of strength and grace, tempered by years of discipline—the flex of her arms, the curve of her abdomen, the quiet power in her stance.

Her hair, still stirred by the final sweep of her movements, framed her face, warm copper catching the first rays of the sun. Her eyes, steady and alive, lifted toward the terrace below, and in that gaze there was no judgment, only awareness.

"Padawan?" Her voice broke the morning quietly, carrying across the mist, soft but deliberate. "Are you… lost? Most don't wander out this early." She tilted her head slightly, concern threading the warmth in her tone. "Are you okay?"

She waited, letting the words settle between them, letting him feel that he was seen—and that he was safe. Her presence was calm, open, yet undeniably strong, a steadying force in the pale dawn.

 

[Kael Daikan]

Anneliese Kaohal-Delaine

There's a tentative silence after her words are spoken, as Kael considers the questions posed to him. There is no movement in his features, despite the uncertainty surrounding him. Though he noted how long it had been since he had been referred to as a Padawan - how long it had been since he received training from a Jedi.

Finally, though, he would nod - a certain definitive answer to her final question, and her first. "I am not sure if I would call it 'lost', but I'm unfamiliar with Naboo, so I suppose there's no better term for it." He looked around Anneliese, at the place they were standing in - again taking in some of the scenery that he had traversed to arrive here. "I guess it is rather early - I did not consider whether it would be dangerous to travel so early or not."

At the very least, hearing her speak to him, have any sort of concern towards him, made much of the uncertainty about his current position blow away like the wind. "I apologize if I'm intruding on anything. I have been exploring for the better part of the last few days, finding places to meditate and seeking a stronger connection to the Force. I am Kael Daikan - a Jedi Padawan, as you already guessed." Or knew, considering her poise and movements spoke a much stronger will and connection to the Force than he had. He gave a bow in greeting - practiced, respectful, as was taught to him.

 

[Anneliese Kaohal-Delaine]

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Tags: Kael Daikan


Anneliese listened without interrupting, her expression softening as he spoke. The tension she had held from her kata eased from her shoulders, the warmth in her eyes settling on him fully now that he'd stepped forward in honesty. Dawn caught the faint sheen on her skin, the rise and fall of her breathing steady and unhurried.

When he bowed, she didn't return the gesture — she dipped her chin instead, respectful but not formal. "Kael Daikan," she repeated, tasting the name gently, as if committing it to memory. "You're not intruding. This place is meant to be found by those who need it."

Her gaze drifted briefly to the mountain path behind him, then back to his face. "And traveling at dawn on Naboo isn't dangerous," she assured, tone warm with a hint of a smile at the corner of her mouth. "Just cold. And lonely, if you're not used to it." A beat. "But those who walk alone at this hour are usually searching for something."

Her eyes held his a moment longer — seeing past the practiced bow, past the uncertainty he tried to hide.

"You said you've been seeking a stronger connection to the Force," she continued, stepping closer with an easy, grounded grace. "That's not the pursuit of someone lost, Kael. It's the pursuit of someone still moving."

A breath. Quiet. Honest.

"I am Anneliese Kaohal," she offered simply. No title. No rank. No expectation. "If you'd like… you can meditate here. Or walk with me when I finish cooling down." The warmth in her voice deepened, genuine. "You look like someone who's been carrying too much weight alone."

She didn't press the invitation — she just left it there, steady and open, like a hand held out but not forced.