Private Why We Fall

[Oryn Selvar]

Ala Quin​

He had been a Jedi all his life. Youngling, initiate, Padawan. What would he be tomorrow? Even as words came out in the form of a detailed report, his mind couldn't keep from circling that very question.

He didn't remember his parents. Oryn had been raised by the Jedi. All he had ever wanted was to become a Jedi Knight. All his role models were Jedi Knights.

The words caught in the back of his throat. It was one thing to suspect he wasn't cut out for this. It was another entirely to experience it real time. This was it. It felt like the end of the line. He powered through.

He omitted nothing. No excuses. He had failed. Even if it put him on a ship to his future and permanent post with the AgriCorps, he refused to hide.

Failure had happened. Lives had been lost. Someone had to be blamed. It was impossible, completely unthinkable to deflect any of it over to someone else. He couldn't even call it being brave. He didn't meet the Grandmaster's eyes once.

"…I believe they were brothers." he felt that his meaning wasn't picked up on, so he elaborated after an extended silence. "When I deflected the blaster bolt that struck the raider." No, that wasn't quite right. Own up to it. "that killed the raider" he corrected. "I felt his pain. The other raider, the brother, I mean. The loss, the anguish, the rage. It…" It had overwhelmed him. It had become his own. And the raider he had killed, he had felt that too, his dying moments.

Oryn had been outnumbered, but not heavily. They had been caught off guard, yes, but even though he was just a Padawan, the situation should've been possible to control. It was the success of his own defensive lightsaber work had been his downfall, not the raiders.

Oryn had taken a blaster bolt himself right after that. But they already knew that. Ambassador Brukina was right now submerged in bakta, fighting for a life that would probably not last the night. But they already knew that.

"I could still make out Ambassador Burkina as they dragged him to their ship. He was alive." a prisoner, held for ransom, knowledge, or even to sabotage the very negotiations Oryn was supposed to oversee.

It wasn't just the people at the mining facility he had failed. Dead workers, dead guards. It was the very balance of peace on Altier.

"I passed out after that."

He took a deep breath. Steeled himself. "I…" understand if I am to be expelled from the Order. That was what he was meant to say, but this time he couldn't force the words out.

He had been a Jedi all his life.

 

[Ala Quin]

"Sounds truly awful."

For a long moment, that was all that Ala said, her face turned away from Oryn as she contemplated the situation, and all that had transpired. Oryn was a good Padawan, and they needed good Padawan. The only thing that needed to be fixed in this meeting was his confidence.

Her chair was just a tad too high from her, so when she slipped from it there was a slight drop. Her feet were already in motion when she landed, and made quick work of covering the space between she and the Padawan.

Expulsion was not on the cards. But a hug certainly was.

It was quick, not overly personal, and more of a one arm pat on the back than a true squeezing hug. But it was hug enough to show the intent.

"Walk with me, Padawan. We have a lot to talk about."

She did not wait for him to reply, but was already going to the side entrance and the sun-drenched balcony outside. As the door slid open, Ala stepped aside and gestured towards the open door.

"First. Let's talk about why you are so afraid right now..."

| Oryn Selvar |​

 

[Oryn Selvar]

Ala Quin​

Sounds truly awful.

Indeed, his perfomance had been awful. This was his last day… His last day a Jedi.

The young Nautolan looked really to fall in over himself. When Ala hugged him he went rigid. This was nowhere to be found on his bingo card.

Tension flowed out of his muscles before she let go. When he finally lifted wide eyes to meet hers he found none of the fury he expected, none that he thought he deserved.

"Y-y-yes, Grandmaster" his feet moved long after she stood by the door waiting for him, the very image of patience itself.

Oryn could hear his heart try to break free of his chest. Ice melted into his veins as his attention was brought back to truth he feared most to speak aloud.

"I…" silence clung thick to the air. He hadn't hid when giving his report. He wouldn't hide now. One way or another, things had reached a boiling point, he needed everything out in the open, come what may. Who better to pass judgement than the Grandmaster herself?

"Fear" he allowed himself another deep breath before carrying on. "I fear I don't have what it takes to become a Jedi Knight"

His body tensed, as if reading itself before strike.

 

[Ala Quin]

Ala didn't offer a rebuke, nor did she let out a sigh of disappointment. Instead, she merely kept her hand extended toward the open air of the balcony, her expression a calm, unreadable sea. When his feet finally moved, she fell into step beside him, the gentle sweep of her robes a steadying rhythm against the frantic beating of his heart.

The heat of the Nabooian sun met them first, followed closely by the collective, humming echo of the Sanctuary in full sway.

She walked him to the stone balustrade, resting her hands lightly on the warm carving. Below them, the training grounds were alive. In perfect, mesmerising unison, a dozen Padawans moved through a complex lightsaber katta, their blades humming in a synchronised chorus that blurred green and blue against the stone. Beyond their courtyard, the cultivated garden terraces offered a quieter tapestry. Jedi Knights and Masters paced the winding paths in deep discussion, while others sat frozen in meditation, completely focused to the current of the Force. Even within the temple walls, visible through the high, arched balcony corridors across the way, a line of younglings hurried in an orderly trail toward their next class, their hushed, excited chatter drifting faintly over the distance.

It was a sprawling, living monument to the Jedi Order. A place brimming with life, light and hope.

Ala let the silence hang for a moment, letting the sheer weight of the sight wash over the young Nautolan. Finally, she turned her head slightly to look at him, her gaze piercing but kind.

"Tell me, Oryn," she said softly, gesturing out over the expanse. "What do you see?"

| Oryn Selvar |​

 

[Oryn Selvar]

​

Oryn kept pace with Ala. Physically he kept a respectful distance, yet he felt his inner self draw nearer to her. Her sea of calm stood in stark contrast to his turmoil. He breathed it in as if it was something that could enter his lungs and spread through his bloodstream. Why was he so afraid? She hadn't yelled at him, hadn't thrown him out. There was a lesson in this. And he'd rather not make a fool of himself in front of the Grandmaster.

Oryn used the silence to steady his breathing, letting her emotional state become his own. It didn't kill the voices of doubt within him, but it was painfully obvious he was focusing too much inward.

Watching the Padawans below, he immediately recognised what they were doing. He'd done that very same katta more times than he could count, and he was sure he could do it blindfolded.

Oryn actually laughed at the pack of younglings. One of them tripped and fell, and immediately three other younglings were around him and helped him back up. Their little train towards the next class didn't miss a beat.

It felt like only yesterday that had been him. There had been no fear then, only focus on what was put in front of him. Only yesterday, and suddenly he was here. Time had flown by so fast. Before he knew it he was a Padawan. He had excelled as a youngling, but anyone who truly excelled would already be a Knight at his age. The alternative wasn't unheard of, of course, but he was becoming old… Oryn felt his time was running out. The window of opportunity for his entire life closing shut one bit more every day that passed. He was supposed to take the next step, not backwards and fall off a cliff.

He had gotten so lost following the crowds that he had nearly forgotten Ala was there. That he was casually standing with the Grandmaster. "The future" but was it his future, or one he was doomed to watch only like a spectator?

"I see that I'm not alone" he added after another pause. There was no one down there he judged harder than himself. He knew he would meet them all with understanding and compassion for any shortcomings, yet he found it hard to do the same for himself. He didn't voice that exact thought, however, he was still a bit in awe of the title Grandmaster. What if he forgot himself, and spoke too freely?

Still, when he turned to look at her, he felt as if she knew he had more to say. He felt compelled to give her more before the silence stretched too long.

"I know people join from outside the Order from time to time. Of course they become Knights at a later age. But I was raised here. I should be better." And in ever class, he always had been. It wasn't that he was no longer top of his class, it was like he didn't even belong in the same classroom.

Ala Quin​

 

[Ala Quin]

The Grandmaster did not look away from the sprawling life below, but her expression shifted from calm observation to a deep, contemplative stillness. "You see the younglings trail to class," Ala said, her voice carrying the steady warmth of the Nabooian sun. "You see the Padawans move in perfect unison. And you look at them, Oryn, and think you are standing still while they race ahead. You see flawless execution in them, and only fractures in yourself."

She finally turned her head to look at him, her eyes holding the depth of centuries as she gestured toward the fountains lining the lower garden terraces. "A cracked vessel cannot hold water, yet it can still guide the stream."

She let the esoteric riddle hang in the warm air, giving the young Nautolan time to feel the weight of her words. She turned her back to the stone balustrade, leaning against it lightly, breaking the formal distance between them.

"You say you should be better because you were raised here. You treat your life like a container you were supposed to fill with perfect achievements on a strict schedule. And now, because of what transpired on your mission, you believe you are broken beyond repair. You expect me to pass judgment, to measure your worth, and to cast you aside."

She stepped closer, her calm presence offering a rock impending the current of his emotions. Her voice dropped to a quiet, demanding softness. "But the Force does not deal in perfection, Oryn. And I am not here to give you an easy verdict, nor am I here to solve the riddle of your future. The lives lost cannot be recovered, and the fractures you carry from that tragedy cannot be unmade. You can no longer hold the pristine image of the Padawan you used to be."

Ala tilted her head, her gaze piercing gently through his defensive wall of shame, leaving him with the question, which was probably the best answer she could give.

"You are so focused on what you can no longer contain. Look at your cracks, Padawan. Look at the stream. Tell me...how does a broken thing still serve the flow?"

| Oryn Selvar |​

 

[Oryn Selvar]

​

Ala made it sound so obvious. Oryn wished he could see it so clearly himself. The flawless execution he saw in everyone around him didn't reflect reality. Everyone had their struggles, their hurdles to overcome. Likewise, he took his strengths for granted and saw only the flaws. If he cared for his friends the same way he cared for himself, well… He would have made a very poor friend indeed.

Oryn nodded in understanding. He resisted the urge to wince as she brought up the example of a cracked vessel. Oryn didn't want to be broken… But if he couldn't admit to himself that he was, how could he ever begin to mend?

"Yes, Grandmaster," he said, his voice dry as sand. He wasn't being thrown out. He wasn't being yelled at. In a way, those black and white outcomes were easier. What he had to do was navigate the difficult terrain of himself, swim through murky waters, never knowing if he'd reach the surface. But he couldn't stop swimming all the same.

"At least not by acting like a vessel with no cracks," he joked, laughing lightly but without mirth. "If you know where the cracks are, you can steer the flow with intentionality." There was still a way for him to lead the way forward, just not in the way he had imagined. "And if you share the cracks openly, maybe you can keep other vessels from breaking, too." He was losing his grip on the metaphor, but hopefully the point carried across.

"So, you still think I can serve the flow? Here?" He barely got through the sentence without a hitch. Oryn felt the nerves bubbling up, but he pushed them down, drowning them in the tranquil waters Ala had set for him to swim in.

He really, really, didn't want to be transferred to the AgriCorps.

"Do you have any cracks, Grandmaster? How did you navigate yours?" even as he said it, he couldn't quite believe he had asked that. That was way too familiar a question. Kark feth kark.

Ala Quin​

 

[Ala Quin]

Am I welcome here, still? Has failure removed my right to strive for success? Oryn was afraid that he no longer belonged.

"Oryn, the Jedi Order does not cast aside its children for stumbling," Ala said calmly. "What sort of people do you think we are?" Her eyes brightened with gentle amusement, teasing but never cruel.

"As for whether you can still serve the flow..." She stepped closer again, lightly poking his chest with each measured word. "...that...is...entirely...up...to...you."

His next question drew another small smile, though she let it fade as she turned away toward the sunlight spilling across the balcony. Ala closed her eyes for a moment, letting the warmth settle over her features.

"We all have cracks, Oryn," she said quietly. "Mine more than most. If I told you everything that has happened to me, you would probably struggle to believe it."

Her gaze drifted across the temple grounds below. "But the tragedy of our lives is rarely the important part. What matters is our response to it."

A faint smile touched her lips again. "And I have always chosen the light."

| Oryn Selvar |​

 

[Oryn Selvar]

​

It was a simple yet effective way to reframe events. It wasn't failure. It was stumbling. It shouldn't have taken Ala telling him, but his own mind hadn't been able to find the words. The Jedi Order wasn't the kind of organization that threw you out over the first mistake you made. If Oryn kept treading along, thinking every mistake could be his last, then it was no wonder his thoughts were a mess.

"I need to learn to relax, don't I?" he said with an embarrassed laugh. The gentle pokes against his chest helped push him further out of the trench he had dug for himself. He felt embarrassed by how black-and-white he had viewed everything, by how caught up in his own thought patterns he had been… Yet it felt good to acknowledge that. It felt good to know.

Seeing the Grandmaster in the flesh tore down the image he'd constructed in his mind: a stern judge, the very image of perfection. Instead, she was someone this… Nice. Well, she wasn't what he had expected.

"Thank you, Grandmaster. I'll be sure to learn from this, and do better in the future." His voice bore no trace of the demons he carried to berate himself. She had turned defeatism into optimism.

Ala was right. The failures themselves weren't the most important. It was what he did afterward. Did he let the failures define him, or set him on a higher path?

"Grandmaster, if I may…" Ala was struck by the consequences of her own actions: being so kind meant Oryn felt comfortable enough to ask more questions. "When it comes to making decisions… Knowing what the right thing is to do. I hear others say they leave it up to the Force, almost as if it decides for them. To me, it feels like the choices are always my own. But maybe I'm just not listening well enough." He laughed without mirth.

Ala Quin​

 

[Ala Quin]

When he asked about learning to relax, Ala burst out in laughter. It wasn't in the smallest bit a mocking laugh. Instead, it came across deeply self-deprecating. "Stars, Oryn...that is pretty much the entire purpose of being a Jedi."

Having turned away from the vista of the Sanctuary grounds, Ala leaned against the balustrade. Despite it not being too high, it still pressed gently in the small of her back.

"Ah yes, the mystical will of the Force..." Ala said, head flopping to the left and right, curls bouncing with the motion.

"...you will find, Oryn, that a lot of what is called "the Will of the Force" is actually just being a good person, putting others before yourself...thinking of the greater good...leading with compassion, not judgment. Once you get that part down, and you seem to be doing alright, then you can start working on the more mystical aspects of what the Force 'wants'."

| Oryn Selvar |​

 

[Oryn Selvar]

Ala Quin
​

Oryn laughed with her, slowly, with puzzlement painted across his features. Then as the message sank in, confused was replaced by genuine mirth. She had a point.

The Nautolan moved over to lean against a pillar, wearing a thoughtful expression as she gave her answer. He looked forward to the day when they would come as easily to him. Perhaps... Perhaps one day he would be standing where she stood now, speaking to his own Padawan. It was hard not to smile. From that, and the fact that at the end of the day it all came down to striving to become a good person. "Yeah. I think I can do that" he said, brushing one of his head-tresses over to the front of his left shoulder.

Oryn didn't want to overstay his welcome, nor did he wish to abuse the Grandmaster's hospitality. There had been another question poking and prodding at his mind.

“I realize I’m not getting kicked out, and I wasn’t doing myself any favours” that felt like an understatement. It felt lighter taking the correction with Ala’s light heartedness and compassion, rather than the slap in the face he excpected and thought he deserved. He really hadn’t been in the right headspace since that mission had gone wrong. He would need to meditate to set himself right for the future.

“I’m not a failure, this is just another step on the right path. But…” even fixing his attitude, there was that other problem he had ran into, one that he would keep running into until he learned to deal with it.

“I am very good at sensing other people’s emotions. Many of my tutors have called it my ‘gift’.” A little bit of Nautolan head-tresses, a little bit of the Force all mixed together. “It’s like I’m hyper aware of everyone around me, always." Being around Ala was easy. She took all his worries and sent them down the river of her compassion and humour. "It’s pretty useful, usually. But on Altier, in that fight… I felt the pain of everyone I hurt. It hit me as it happened. I couldn’t focus, it was just so… Sharp. So Immediate.”

Oryn pushed himself off the pillar, and walked to stand next to Ala. White-knuckled hands gripped the balustrade as he stared off in the distance. If someone had asked him to describe what he had been looking at, he wouldn’t have been able to tell them. It all became a blur, and his mind was elsewhere.

“I don’t know what to do. My lightsaber forms are pretty good. But… There’s just so many impression. It feels impossible to stay focused.”

Oryn was coming to terms with the fact that Ala wasn’t shipping him out of the Order or to the AgriCorps. He had a place here, he knew that now, and he wouldn’t give it up. Yet… Perhaps he would never be suited to combat. Maybe he’d become one of those Jedi you could never trust to put in the field. Ever the diplomat, always with a Jedi Guardian escort in case things got tough…

 

[Ala Quin]

She mirrored his eyeline, looking out over the blurry training grounds, though her eyes remained sharp and entirely unfazed. The silence she left between them was not heavy. Instead, it was a deliberate shield, absorbing the friction of his panic.

"A diplomat who always needs an escort," she murmured softly, repeating his internal dread aloud as if she had plucked it straight from his tresses. She turned her head, her calm gaze locking onto his tense profile. "Is that what you think a Guardian is, Oryn? A brute sent to shield the fragile?"

She reached out, her hand gently but firmly covering his white-knuckled fingers, silently prompting him to loosen his iron grip on the stone.

"In the past such a gift was managed by what some ancient masters called Consonance," Ala explained. "Most Jedi must train for decades to pierce the veil of an enemy's mind. You do it effortlessly. Your problem on Altier was not that your gift failed you, but that you left your windows wide open during a hurricane. You let the galaxy's bleeding become your own, and you forgot that you cannot pull someone out of quicksand if you dive headfirst into the muck with them."

She stepped away from the balustrade, turning her back to the Nabooian sun and crossing her arms over her chest. "You do not need fewer impressions, Padawan. You need a stronger foundation. You must learn to feel the blade strike, acknowledge the pain it causes, and let it pass through you like water through a sieve. If you close your eyes and block it out, you become blind. If you let it drown you, you become useless."

A challenge sparked in her eyes, bright and demanding. "So, we will start tomorrow. We will tighten your shields until you can stand in a room of screaming minds and still hear the drop of a single pin. Are you ready to work, or are you still feeling sorry for your cracks?"

| Oryn Selvar |​

 

[Oryn Selvar]

​

"Is that what you think a Guardian is, Oryn? A brute sent to shield the fragile?"

"I" he didn't have an answer, and as he gave it thought he realized the question had probably been rhetorical.

He heard his hearts singing in consert, a rapid thump-thump-thump. Oryn took a deep breath, opening up his hand. The sound from inside him grew slower and quieter.

Oryn turned his head, looking into her eyes. "Consonance?" he repeated, but fell silent to let her explain. He'd never heard of it. Was there an answer to all this? A technique he could use to overcome it all? If so he had to learn it.

The Nautolan turned and moved to stand beside her. Learn to feel the blade strike, acknowledge the pain it causes. Yes, he knew that to be true, yet he also knew it would be hard for him to do.

His eyes looked upon her in amazement, followed by determination. He couldn't believe the Grandmaster was putting that much effort into him. Was he ready to work? He sure as kriff wasn't going to squander this opportunity.

"I'm ready to work, Grandmaster" his words spoke of determination, his tone of voice spoke of gratitude.

---

It hadn't been easy for Oryn to clear his mind the rest of the day in anticipation of their next meeting. He had no idea what to expect, or how to even prepare, so he tried to put it out of his mind, using it as another excuse to practice meditation.

The hopeful young Padawan showed up early next day, at the designated meeting place. He was ready to work.

Ala Quin​

 

[Ala Quin]

She had stayed up far too late brainstorming how to teach this lesson. What Ala had finally settled on felt...gangly, to say the least.

When the Grandmaster finally appeared in the garden as arranged, she did so heavily over-encumbered by a plumber's tool kit. Hooked over her fingers were elbow joints, seam connectors, pipe caps, and O-rings. Tucked under her arms were lengths of guttering, pipes, tubes, and all manner of water-conveyance paraphernalia.

Balancing it all was a mission in itself, which Ala managed with the delicacy of a Wookiee on a dance floor. It was clear that the self-serious Grandmaster Ala had encountered the day before was gone. In her place stood the side of Ala that was rarely displayed these days: her true self.

"Hi, Oryn!" Ala waved...and the pipes all clattered to the ground.

"Oh...bother."

| Oryn Selvar |​

 

[Oryn Selvar]

Ala Quin​

The ways of Jedi Masters was unknown to him, yet this... To say that he was surprised was an understatement. "Um, Grandmaster?" he voiced, a little curious, a little confused. "Do you need some help with that?" without really waiting for an answer he advanced, crouching down to help pick up all the pipes and random assortment that she had dropped.

"Is this when you tell me to pipe down?"

...

Oh that was bad

"I'd say I'm ready to get started. But... Well I don't know what I'm ready for" he laughed again, almost nervously. "Thanks again for taking the time to train me." She was training him, right?

Was Ala recruiting Padawans to do maintenance work around the Temple? Fixing pipes today, washing her speeder tomorrow...

 

[Ala Quin]

Squealing in delight at the bad pun, Ala gave Oryn an amused glare, nose scrunching up and all. "Oh boy, this is going to be a good day..."

She kicked a pipe with her foot. "Yup, grab them there pipes and take them over to the pond...down my the cute little waterfall," Ala said, her head pointing in the general direction she intended. She managed to get within ninety degrees of correct.

Ala was already past Oryn and moving quickly towards her destination. Each step seemed to give a new sound of excitement, before finally reaching her spot, where she unceremoniously dropped everything on the ground.

Turning back towards Oryn, she frowned. "Hurry up, slow poke!"

| Oryn Selvar |​