Fresh Air (Fro)

Meditation, it was said, was the key to inner peace. Mediation was supposed to eliminate the factors of the outside world, and allow the practitioner the unending solitude necessary to dwell on themselves, their inner-most conflicts, and their being as it truly was.

Now if only mediation were simple.

In a bland room on a soft bed in view of drawn blinds sat a padawan, tall and large beyond his age. The padawan sat unwavering, barely even breathing. The Temple his room was part of did as it always did, shifting, moving, and focusing in and out of his range, but the padawan remained statuesque.

For what padawan is active in times of great strife? Some, perhaps, but not Vance Asano.

It had been weeks since Vance had heard from Tem Farelle, his assigned mentor in the ways of the Jedi. He had done as he always tried to do; he was diligent in his patience and loyal in his practice. What things Tem had passed on to Vance the padawan had absorbed with the effectiveness of a sponge, maintaining his new training regiment and practicing his form every day.

And for what?

The previous day, Vance had once more been summoned by the Council; an experience that, in his mind, usually spelled out a rather negative occurrence. He had walked into the Council chamber stressed, worried, and skeptical.

He had a pretty good idea of what was coming, and it caused him insurmountable dread.

The meeting had taken 9 minutes. 9 minutes consisting of scant sentences and little real communication. 9 minutes of compassion. 9 minutes of doom-saying.

Vance had entered the chamber a padawan. He exited a... well, he wasn't really sure. Jedi Knight Tem Farelle, in his absence, had been deemed by the Council temporarily MIA. They had gone on to say that due to Tem's unrecognized status, Vance's apprenticeship was, in the interest of the Knight-in-training, terminated.

What they had failed to mention, and what Vance doubted they knew exactly, was where that left him.

If the usual procedure was anything to go by, Vance was a now a Youngling, and like all Younglings masterless and teenage, his fate was ensnared in the Jedi Corps.; the part of the Temple where forgotten Jedi pretended to be useful. At best, the future held a quickly-oncoming 60-year service of managing clinics, aiding farmers, and servicing the Temple.

Distressing, to say the least.

So, for the last 24-hours, Vance had merely sat on his bed, legs crossed, trying to block it all out. The world quickly became to much; after all, everyone had their tolerance for impact, and Tem's disappearance seemed to fully tax the padawan's.

Vance hadn't really thought. He always meditated when... confused. What was he to do? What could he do? How could he do it? Or was he simply enslaved to his future?

And so, peeling away the outside world layer by layer, Vance fled to his own mind, trying his best not to acknowledge that he even existed. There was always the physical world's inevitable reminders: sleep, food, restrooms, and liquids. But if it could be avoided, it was.

Vance had come far in developing control over his emotions, and so instead of the logjam of his earlier years, he was forced to confront a sort of gear-grind instead. He was aware of what was going on, disapprove of it though he may. The problem was simply that every logical and imaginable option ended with the same thing; his entire future being a bleak servitude to his educated equals.

Could I find a new master? It wasn't like Knights wandered the halls searching for students. If a Knight wanted a padawan, he or she requested one. If that Knight didn't want to teach, he or she didn't. It wasn't as easy as swapping one gear for another when the gears were hard to come by in the first place.

And even if by miracle of the Force Vance found someone to teach him, to apprentice him, would they click? The Knight-gears in the lives of Jedi weren't all the same; just because you found one didn't mean it fit. After all, does a robin egg hatch just because a fly sits on it?

"Bah!" Vance lashed out his arms in frustration, breaking his solitude and reemerging himself in the world. He lacked the answers he sought, and no amount of meditating would ever create knowledge one didn't already possess. Though it would pain him so, Vance would have to find his solutions among the people he shared the world with.

For a moment, the padawan couldn't help but think of Tal, who had inadvertently set him on the path to discovering such answers. It had been days since they had practiced sensing the world with the Force, and yet it was that very skill that would matter more now than ever.

Speaking of Talau...

No, it would be foolish to seek her out. She was a Knight, and she had more pressing matters to attend to than advising a wayward Youngling-Padawan-Corpsman-to-be. And even if she did, why would she have the answers? What would she be able to tell him that he didn't already know?

And yet, it's my best hope. Vance emerged slowly from his room, noting how the world, or at least the Temple, went on it's merry way, leaving him in the dust like the slowest Bantha in a pack, left and trampled only to meet a slow, awful demise.

The padawan stood in the doorway to his room, staring at the halls before him. Among his issues, an important question arose:

How do I even find Tal?

Vance closed his eyes, and then his ears, and so on and so forth, and soon the world was an inky, vacant void once more. For a moment, Vance teetered on the edge of indecision, considering of prematurely abandoning his pursuit and just going back to doing what he was doing...

... which was nothing.

Vance slowly eased his essence out of his body, allowing it to couture to the world around it. He extended outward, feeling and sensing the Force of all of the things he could find, with each giving a word as to its nature freely. For a moment it was slightly too much to absorb and the padawan faltered, but as he recalled his impromptu lesson, Vance tuned his mental dials, eventually hitting a sweet balance between absorbing detail and how much he was absorbing.

Eyes closed, the padawan began wandering the halls. He passed doorways and elevators and Jedi and gardens, and instead of considering his predicament, Vance simply observed. The stone walls were smooth and solid. The garden plants were harmonious and alive. The lifts rocketed up and down, carrying the ever-diverse essences of Jedi to and fro quickly. Vance didn't think, or even consider. For just this once, he only watched, searching for answers.

The walk proceeded timelessly, and soon the garden plants and lifts gave way to spaced-out Jedi, each essence moving elegantly and individually. One essence of fiery and rapid, spinning about and leaping around with passion. Another, more like Vance himself, stayed firm and careful in their movements, preferring flowing motions and harmonious feelings as they moved gracefully and steadily.

And yet, one essence caught Vance's eye. It was one of the wilder essences, kind at its core and fierce at its shell. The essence moved swiftly, at one time being very balanced, and the next very quick and excited. Vance stopped his blind marathon and observed, focusing his attention and opening himself to absorb more detail. The essence wrapped about the room like solid shell, firm and free in it's presence. It reminded Vance of...

The padawan opened his eyes, and gazed upon Talau Firians as she interrupted her own practice. Vance gazed upon the Knight, and noted her consistent aura; a comforting fact, as little seemed completely constant at that moment.

For a second, Vance merely zoned back into his physical senses. The training room was silent, and the padawan somewhat-eagerly starred at the Knight before him.

"Uh... Hi Tal."

As he stood there, looking at her, she smiled, Talon’s violet fire dying out with a press of her thumb. The least she could do for this troubled youth was greet him with a smile. He had questions, she could feel it in the very air around him, and hopefully she would be able to help…but that would come after. A smile, she’d learned, simple as the gesture was, often helped considerably when things were rough.

“Uh…Hi Tal.”

She couldn’t help but chuckle slightly at the greeting.

”Hello Vance. I was wondering if I would see you today.” It was the pure and simple truth. Considering the fact that she’d had the boy on her mind for the majority of the day, Talau had wondered if she should seek him out…or if he would find his way to her. Studying him for a moment, she stowed Talon on her belt for the time being. It wouldn’t help her at the moment anyway. The boy looked, to be honest, a bit disheveled and that made her wonder just what he was so wound up over.

”Come on, let’s take a walk, hmm? I could use some fresh air and a bit of cooling off…” and she didn’t think she was the only one, either.

Giving him another warm smile, she’d hold out one hand toward the wall, calling her robe over to her, the dark brown cloth fluttering as it flew to her hand. With the other hand, she’d reach for Vance’s shoulder, resting her hand there and starting to guide him gently toward the door as she walked. ”I was just thinking some things over that have been on my mind lately…normally I would have simply meditated, but…I found I just couldn’t think while sitting still today, you know?”

Sometimes one just had to wonder just what Tal knew and what she guessed when she said things so nonchalantly like that.

”So tell me, what brings you here?” There was no point in beating around the bush, she thought, as she pulled some of her hair away from her face, where bits of it attempted to cling to her damp skin. ”It isn’t every day that I get visitors while training, after all, and I don’t believe you’re here by chance or to train.”

In the very pits of existence, anyone could tell you that the one and greatest gift to receive from another person was simply a smile. No questions. No confrontations. Not even any suspicions.

Just a smile, and to Vance, that was worth more than every credit in the galaxy.

Tal retrieved her robe and guided the padawan out of the room, bringing her hand up to his shoulder. The sight made Vance smile a little himself as the height difference between them showed through, but he merely allowed himself to be led out of the training room.

"I was just thinking some things over that have been on my mind lately…normally I would have simply meditated, but…I found I just couldn’t think while sitting still today, you know?”

"I know." About 8 hours of attempted meditation had certainly made that feeling, that antsy sensation abundantly clear.

But Tal, being the mind-reader she always seemed to be, cut right to it. Somehow, she read him like he was an open book, as if he was as easy to read and sense as the simple things he had absorbed on his walk over.

"Well..." Vance rubbed his finger through his afro, allowing the curls to wrap his fingers up tight before he eased them out again. He took a deep breath.

"As of yesterday, I'm no longer a padawan." He was silent for a moment, reliving those awful 9 minutes.

"And... I don't know... I guess I just need some help."

The simple answer to her comment about meditation was, if nothing else, expected. There were few that she knew of who hadn’t felt a similar feeling at one point or another, no matter what age or level of training they were. Still, she’d hoped that the comment would elicit a bit more of a response for her to gauge what was going on with the boy. Alas, there was no such luck…so it was back to the drawing board as she continued on.

Allowing her hand to fall from the back of his shoulder so that she could walk more easily as he began to speak. The answer she received, however, was not at all what she had expected. What had she expected? Perhaps she’d expected him to have had an argument with one of his peers, or concerns about his master (though perhaps this problem was close enough to that), or maybe just that he was troubled about a dream or some bit of information that he’d heard in the halls at some point…but that he was no longer a padawan? It didn’t make much sense to her. Hadn’t he just had a master? What had happened? She needed more information.

Sighing a little, she nodded slightly.

”I see,” she replied, brushing back her hair again. ”I’m very sorry to hear that, Vance…but…before I can try to help you, I think I’ll need to know more about what happened.” Glancing up at him from the corner of her eyes, they were rimmed with grey and otherwise colored with a compassionate lavender. ”I can only imagine you have plenty of fears and concerns right now…I know that I did when Master Shoal died.”

Right. It made sense Tal would need more than just "I'm not a padawan". Heck, Vance needed more than "I"m not a padawan", but his request didn't seem so easily filled. Nevertheless, he took a deep breath, stood up straight, and explained.

"As it was explained to me, my mast- er, former-master, Knight Tem Farelle, has been gone for the last 2 months. The Council officially declared him 'Missing In Action'."

It figured, didn't it? His first master was killed in action, and his second was missing in action. If there was a third, Vance hoped they'd be prepared for being lost in action, because that appeared to be the pattern that surrounded him.

"So... with him... well, gone, I no longer have a mentor." Vance felt a new wave of sobriety roll over him, slumping a little and easing his expression. What was happening? Why? Was it all for naught? 4 years of learning the arts of the Jedi just to wind up in the Corps growing flowers and corn? It couldn't just end there, could it?

Is that really it? Vance had never so much as met a Corpsman; they were that forgotten about. He had never considered them before this, but now it seemed like they were best described as the Temple's dropouts; B-rank Jedi that had one-too-many slip-ups or one-too-little strokes of luck.

And he was going to become one, it seemed.

"So... I guess I'm headed to the Corps." The statement was vacant and simple, like quoting a sentence from a textbook. There was no hope. There was no passion or excitement. There was only sadness.

Sadness, and submission.

The 2 Jedi passed a window overlooking Coruscant. The speeders zoomed a distance away, and the sun shone brightly on what would undoubtedly be the worst day in the padawan's history.

She sighed a bit at the explanation. Jedi were often out longer than two months at a time, but if it was meant to have been a short mission, and you had a padawan waiting on you…and there was no word…well, she didn’t like the idea. If things had gone really wrong, the man may be worse than just ‘missing’…and she didn’t really relish the thought of possibly having to find a new dark jedi by the same name. Still, Talau supposed that they’d done right in allowing the kid to have the chance to move on.

Even so, his almost ‘matter of fact’ statement about joining the corps rubbed her in all the wrong ways.

Stopping her walk, she turned to face him, eyes narrowed with bright threads of yellow and features hard. Every inch of her was stern and she held herself as tall and commanding as possible. ”Now you see here, Vance…I don’t ever want to hear you give up so easily again, do I make myself clear?” That, was Master Shoal speaking, there was no doubt of it in her mind, but she didn’t particularly care right now either. ”Like all padawans your age who’ve lost a master you will be given time to find a new one, and you will. As a jedi, you must never give up hope. The moment you give up hope, the moment you give up on yourself, you’re going to start down a path that you truly won’t want to follow. Is that what you want? Is that what you were taught? Is that what you think your master would have wanted of you? To just give up like that?”

Folding her arms across her chest, the woman gazed at him steadily.

”Allow me to answer those questions for you: No.” Bits of gold and violet had begun to seep into her eyes as the yellow began to fade while she almost glared up at the young man. ”So, Vance, let me ask you this: What are you going to do? If you want my opinion, you should pick yourself up out of your funk and get back to life and look for your new master. They may be right in front of your eyes, but acting the way you are now certainly isn’t going to make anyone want to be your master.”

For another few moments she’d look at him, letting him absorb what she’d said before moving on once, more…both physically and verbally.

”I think we both already know the question you really want to ask, so when you think you’re ready and have taken my words to heart, feel free to ask it.” There was still a slight edge to her words, but no longer was she giving him the proverbial wake up slap that he had needed after his comment about the Corps. It made sense, now, the reason why Vance had been on her mind so much these past few days…and especially today. The fact that he’d sought her out only further cemented the idea in her mind, but she refused to ask a boy who was giving up on his hopes and dreams so easily to be her padawan. That was Master Toth speaking…her second master, from a time when she’d done much the same thing…just in a slightly different way.

Vance had endured his fair share of injuries and blows in his experience as a Padawan. He had broken bones, sliced flesh, and even been scarred by a Rancor.

And yet he had never been impacted so largely in his entire life than just now.

Tal seemed to double in size, and though technically Vance was still taller, he felt like he was looking up the fiery Knight instead of vice versa. Her presence grew from calm empathy to energized fortitude in seconds, and it was all the padawan could do not to fall backwards from the sheer force of it.

Tal assaulted the padawan's thinking, like taking a blowtorch to an uneven hedge. Her words, even the syllables themselves, seemed to contain and unleash in each a hard hook punch to Vance's droopy, given-in mindset. At first it was akin to be hit by a freighter, but a freighter didn't run you over for 2 minutes the way Tal seemed to.

And yet, as she concluded her assertions, Vance felt... different. He wasn't offended. He wasn't enraged. He wasn't sad. He wasn't really even set to bursting.

More like he was... phased.

For a minute, Tal stopped, and the words sank in. Vance drew inward, considering, and his body quickly found structure slumping against the nearest wall. Was this really it? Was it just going to be that simple? There was a block in the road; did that warrant a full stop?

... no.

What did you say?

... No.

I don't hear you Asano.

NO!

It took a few minutes, but the sweeping change was like a tidal wave of revelation. Tal was right, even if it wasn't crystal clear yet. How could he have been so quick to throw in the towel!? The galaxy had handed him a challenge to accomplish, a hurdle to vault over, and instead of taking it on full force, he had opted out for the easier option:

Sitting down, moping and moaning, and waving a white flag.

Vance starred vacantly for a moment, letting his mind shift gears from parked to 1st. And yet, before he could ease on the gas, Tal was speaking again, and he was all ears.

"I think we both already know the question you really want to ask, so when you think you’re ready and have taken my words to heart, feel free to ask it."

What questi- Just like the gear shift, the question suddenly changed from an out-of-the-blue inquiry to the most obvious thing Vance had conceived all day. It was funny how an answer could stare you down for hours without you so much as noticing it. And yet was that truly the answer? It would solve a lot, but...

No. Ask the question. There were times for self-doubt, and there were times for over-thinking. But beyond those, there were times when a person just had to take everything they had and bet it all on one chance. One tiny possibility that would change their life forever more.

It took another few minutes, but Vance slowly managed to put his doubt to sleep, leaving only the raw determination he had just witnessed. It was shrewd in comparison to Tal, in all honesty, but, like patience, it was another skill to be mastered.

And Vance had just found the perfect person to help him master it.

Vance arose from his slump, planting both feet firmly on the floor. He rose once more, this time erecting his back and straightening his arms. He cleared his throat, and summoned his imperfect courage.

"Talau,"

Vance curled up the corners of his mouth, grinning ever so slightly as the words leaped out his mouth like fish to water.

"Would you be my master?"

Silently the woman ‘watched’ as Vance began to really think her words over, even as she spoke. Honestly, she didn’t enjoy being harsh with people, but sometimes it was necessary to really get a point across…luckily Vance seemed to be taking it as it was meant. She’d stunned him out of his moping, and slowly, as the surprise wore off, he was beginning to think again rather than falling back into self-pity. There was a distinct shift in his aura, as well as his emotions, as she paused…a shift that she was, tentatively, pleased with.

He was doubting…second guessing.

It wasn’t the sort of feeling she got from people who were doubting her words and attempting to dismiss them, but rather the feeling of someone questioning their own line of thinking. Slowly, very slowly, his presence began to shift again…’solidifying’ would have been the word she used to describe it. He was solidifying his thinking, his emotions, perhaps all that was ‘Vance’ toward some sort of decision, and unlike the previous dismal cloud he seemed to hold around him, this feeling was stronger, more assertive. ’Good, he isn’t giving up, then.’ She wouldn’t admit it, not yet, but she was having to lock down the pride she felt in the young man picking himself up again like this.

It showed good character…a trait she respected in others.

Even as his presence was tinged by confusion and doubt, the young knight waited quietly, patiently, for him to realize what she was offering, even if she hadn’t done so overly. Even if he didn’t realize it, hopefully he would, at least, gather the courage to ask for himself. It was the first step for him to take…and the biggest step he needed to take, but he had to take it on his own. From there, she would be able, and much more willing, to walk with him rather than stand before him like a parent with a toddler…not until he was more ready to start taking on the galaxy by himself, anyway.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity of silence and the quiet passing of the world around them, Vance began to stand on his own two feet again. It was possible for her to hide her growing pride behind the lock and key of her mind and will, to keep it from seeping out in the force without her say-so, but the violet and gold that painted her eyes would not so easily be stopped, or hidden.

“Talau, would you be my master?”

Finally she allowed herself to smile warmly up at him, letting the solid and commanding persona she’d held about her fall, replaced by a warm wave of pride and happiness as she nodded. ”Yes, Vance, I would be proud to have you as a padawan.” She didn’t understand it, the feelings she felt right now, the reason why she felt happy enough that her eyes glittered slightly with tears, but she did. This, after all, was completely new territory for her…taking a padawan…but it just seemed right. Even so…this wasn’t a decision to be made lightly, her cautious side reminded her, he needed to be made aware of the circum stances.

”Still, there are some important things that you need to know before you truly decide if you want to be my padawan or not. Come on, we can talk more about this in my quarters.” There wasn’t room for debate with her statement as she led the way through the temple in the correct direction.

If there was a galactic competition for biggest smiles, Vance and Tal were definitely vouching for the winners' circle. The pure joy was like a deadly virus; it consumed the body, making every little interaction a reminder of how warm the body felt.

Truly, Vance had never felt quite this good before. Shon-tul's acceptance had always seemed a given, and Tem's had never had enough time to fully solidify, but here with Tal...

Well, it might just be something special this time. Something scary and new, but amazing, adventurous, and downright enjoyable. Vance didn't quite understand it yet, but he was getting the gist of it.

An adventure.

For a moment, both Jedi wore their giddy smiles in dumb-found gaiety. Then, Tal made a good point, or rather carried out a new statement. They were going to talk about this more in a private environment. Logic slowly eased back into Vance's mind as he agreed. The logic did little to dampen the happiness, but even still it was an ever-so-slight reminder that they still had a few things to deal with before this was official.

Vance tried to respond, but he found his mouth still in its huge grin, imperfect teeth glared and showing. He actually had to take a minute to relax his muscles and speak, and before he could get around to it, he was once again being led through the halls by his mentor.

"After you," he was spoke while being led, proving his reply wasn't much one of his choice at the moment. Tal weaved through the halls, and Vance followed her, still trying to piece together what exactly had just happened.

Well, I showed up sad and depressed and consigned. That had been awful.

Then... well, Tal had happened, it seemed. Granted, his was just as big a part in this as she was, but it seemed to him that she had truly set the gears in motion.

And now... now I'm looking forward to... well... the future. Vance couldn't quite see where he was going yet, making this decision. He was no fortune-teller, contrary to the rumors of the general galactic future.

And yet, this felt right. It would take time to put words to the knowledge, the feeling, but... for now, they didn't quite need them.

It truly didn’t take long for them to get to her quarters, nestled amongst the other knight’s quarters. They’d had to take a lift, of course, and another few halls, but her feet knew the way without her help by now, and Vance seemed to have an easy enough time following. As her door came into view she was already entering the unlock code with little bursts of telekinesis around the familiar key pad, so by the time they reached the portal into her personal sanctuary the door hissed open without so much as a hesitation of her motion. Standing aside, she’d motion for him to enter as well with one extended arm.

The room was, like the others, simple…though, like many of the others, it had bits to it that made it ‘home’ to the jedi who lived there. For Talau it wasn’t so much objects as the feel of the room itself…a feeling of calm practically permeated the area with hints of the incense and spices she used for meditating when she felt particularly stressed. Data pads were abundant on her desk, as well as an assortment of file folders filled with flimsies, all sorted and stacked as best as was possible. The order she required for her life to be as simple as possible was obvious right down to how her bed was made. Here and there, however, were oddities…a long, small, metal box with a lock that was half hidden behind some of the data pads, an old book (yes, a real book) that was barely visible as it was wrapped in unobtrusive looking cloth and placed below the bed, a few hand written flimsies that would have blended into the others if not for the strange writing on them…

Motioning to one of the two seats in the room, she’d go about hanging her robe up. ”Have a seat. There’s a lot to say, and I only really feel comfortable telling it in a private setting like this.” Once she was done hanging the robe up, she took a seat in the desk chair and straightened the flimsies that had been out, putting them in one of the folders and sliding it into its place. Turning back to Vance, she’d pause, wondering where to begin.

”I suppose I should start with something simple, but important, hmm? My last name, since I don’t recall telling you previously, is Firians. I don’t expect you to know it, so don’t let your mind take you that direction, but if you’re going to be my padawan, you should know that it is a dangerous name to know about, and it shouldn’t be used around people who you don’t know enough to trust.”

The haze of shock was just about over and done with as Vance was being motioned into Tal's room. He was still grinning and warm as could be, but by now the news had sunk in, much like a stain. The feeling was still there, but the padawan's train of thought was back on track.

Tal's room didn't seem too different from Vance's; a fact he found interesting, never being in a Knight's room prior. In terms of space and quality, the room was still comfortable yet basic, just like every other room Jedi lodged in. It was the little quirks that caught Vance's eye; the stacks of holopads and folders, reminding him of his own messes. These stacks were at least orderly though.

The very strange thing was the book. Not a datapad. A book. An honest-to-goodness carbon-based, ink-and-paper text. Vance had seen a few in his day, primarily in the Archives, but he had never known someone to privately own one. He made a mental note to ask about it later.

As his scan of the room ceased, Tal invited him to sit. Doing his best to be careful with the furniture, the padawan collapsed into one of the two chairs the room included, creaking it a little as he did so. Tal hung up her robe, patted away a few things on her desk, and turned to her new student.

Then came the second impact of the day. This one wasn't quite the huge mental change the first had been, but even so if held force. Vance considered for a moment, scratching his chin. Firians... what importance does that carry? Not everyone had cause to be careful with their surnames, least of all the Jedi. What did it say about Tal that she felt the need to be careful?

That resurrected another question that Vance had been playing around with since he had met Tal; just what was it about this woman? She was a Jedi, yes, and she was wise, yes, and she was even strong in the Force, but...

There's more to it than that. It was one of those little inklings the Force would give a person every once in a while; a feeling that made a person do a double-take. Tal was just a little mystical, and more than anything, Vance thought that was why he liked her so much.

"Understood." Vance may not have understood the reasons yet, but if Tal wanted to keep her last name under wraps, he was going to keep quiet. Understanding or not, this was important.

That's when the curiosity bubbled up again.

"What makes it so dangerous though?"

“Understood.”

Even without it, Talau could hear the ‘but’ coming. She planned on explaining anyway, but the question was coming before she could really cut it off.

“What makes it so dangerous though?”

Sighing a little, the woman leaned back a little in her seat and wondered how to explain. She’d considered this situation for so long, but still, when it finally arrived, she was unsure on how to proceed. So, Talau did the only thing she could think to do: tell the unadulterated truth of the situation…pure, raw, not sugar coated or unclear…just facts.

”My brother and I are the last two of a royal line from Rilia. There was a prophecy made generations back that someone of my name, first and last, would free our people from the war lords who have terrorized them since the death of my predecessor.” Pausing a moment, Talau gazed thoughtfully at a point on the wall, a flurry of thoughts all attempting to garner her full attention at once. Blinking, she pushed them away and looked back at Vance with a bit of a smile. ”I cannot say for sure that this is, or ever will be, true…but I cannot afford to be hunted by the Morequai…the war lords. Not before I have a chance to go and try to make things right.”

Standing, she paced around for a moment before pausing at her desk again, and gazing at the metal box thoughtfully before pulling it out and turning it in her hands this way and that as a way to keep her hands occupied. ”I may not be the one that prophecy talks about, but I can’t chance anything, and I still intend to do what I can to help Rilia. So you see, I can’t risk using my last name lightly.”

Glancing back to Vance from the box she held in her hands, she turned to face him fully. ”I’m willing to train you, Vance, to the best of my ability until you’re ready to become a knight….but I want to make sure that you understand the possible danger before you decide. I also need you to know that, one day, I will leave the Order to go back to Rilia. I don’t know when that day will be, probably not for years, but I can’t be sure…all I can go on are my feelings. If you can understand and accept those things, then you are welcome to be my padawan.”

I wonder what it's like to be a normal padawan... Most Younglings found masters, trained their 8 to 10 years, took their Trials, and moved on, experiencing the "normal" Jedi training.

Vance, it would seem, had no such luck. Or perhaps he simply had too much luck. He was still trying to figure out which.

"Well that's different." At any other time, the padawan would have been taken back by such a story, and he'd be rattling off questions like a madman. After everything that Tal had told him today, however, it seemed that he was beginning to experience a new norm.

A child of prophecy, huh? The padawan's mind quickly divided into two camps; skepticism and acceptance.

She's insane.

Considering everything we know about Tal, and considering how crazy everything else looks at this point, it sounds pretty plausible.[/i]

C'mon, she must be joking! She and her brother are supposedly destined to free a planet!?

When have you known Talau to joke?[/b]

Talau was proving to be quite a few things, most unexpected, but one thing she was not was a liar.

The skepticism quickly fell silent after that.

The debate laid to rest, a few questions remained. Was Vance prepared to have another master guaranteeing that she was going to have to leave the Order in the future? Was he prepared to endure the responsibility and consequence of knowing her last name?

Was he willing to place as much faith in her feelings as she was?

Vance sighed softly, cementing his answer. One of Tal's talents was apparently taking your breath away. "Then it seems I'll be going by your feelings as well."

The padawan grinned, doing his best to reflect that determination he had found within himself. "You're gonna' have to do better than prophecy to get rid of me now."

“You’re gonna have to do better than prophecy to get rid of me now.”

That made her smile. It really did. He couldn’t know just how much that statement meant to her after all the recent losses she’d endured.

”Darn…and here I was hoping it would be a deal breaker. Ah well…”

‘When have you ever known Tal to joke’? Well, here was instance number one. Surprise, Vance!

Still, considering the logical disbelief she could imagine him having, and the conflicted emotions she felt from him, Talau was a bit surprised he didn’t outright laugh. She certainly had when she’d first learned about it. After all, prophecies through the force were all well and good, but where was the Chosen One who was supposed to bring balance to the force? Obviously no one knew of them if they were around. Still…being a seer herself, Talau couldn’t discount the facts she’d seen with her own eyes. Some prophecies were self fulfilling, while others…just happened. Even now the woman wasn’t quite sure which one hers leaned toward: self fulfilling or…other.

Perhaps it was a bit of both.

”Either way, as long as you understand, I’m glad to have you…and since it seems we’re only just shy of Council approval, I think I can give you this.”

Tapping in a short code into the lock on the metal box she was holding, the lid clicked and popped open. Lifting the top, she carefully pulled out a feather about the length of her hand. It was golden, over all, with thin streaks of violet, deep blue, dark green and edged (just barely) with silver. Closing the box again, she’d set it back on the desk before walking over to Vance and holding it out to him.

”It isn’t one of my primaries, I only had a few of them, but it’s a decent size anyway. If you like, I could make it into a necklace or attach it to your belt or something else.” Smiling a little, she’d look from Vance to the feather and then back again. ”Either way, it’s yours now…and I’ll be able to find you more easily by it…so keep it on you.”

Tal seemed to warm up at the sound of Vance's playful response; something he thought might have hit a nerve the nice way.

She then proceeded to prove him wrong:

Tal: 1

Vance: 0

Taking for granted the Council's approval of their new status as master and padawan (Vance had to agree; what reason was there to say no? Come to think of it, had they ever really?), Tal opened the box she had been swaddling; a metal container with a code-lock. Placing it temporarily out of sight on her desk, Tal opened it and turned around holding...

A feather. It had been another thing eating at Vance since Tal had told him about them. While his mind might have been concerned with his previous predicament, the Rilan appendage had been the plaything of the padawan's imagination for days now.

And yet his fictitious images failed to match up. He had pictured it looking vibrant and elegant, but the real thing put his day-dreaming to shame. The feather wasn't too large (Vance would guess about the size of a small brick in terms of length), and the colors shocked the eyes with quality and transition rather than scale. Instead of the endless rainbow he had been expecting, the feather was gold all over, harboring also glorious hues of violet, blue, and green. Vance even thought he saw a bit of silver running about the perimeter.

Vance suddenly felt very ashamed of feeling so doubtful about the supposed powers of these feathers. Talking about them was one thing, but actually being in the presence of one, it seemed, was an entirely different experience. The feather reminded Vance in every way of the person holding it; it was mystical, suave, gentle, and sharp all in the same breath. It almost seemed a given the connections it held.

"Wow..." It was all the padawan could muster, holding out his own hand to feel the feather. It was soft on the flat sides, and smooth and sharp on the narrow. It felt almost as likely to slide like silk across his hand than to lop off his limb entirely.

"Thank you Tal." He meant it sincerely. When he had woken up this morning, he had been adamantly certain that he was in was for one of the worst days in his natural life. Hours later, he had an amazing master, an amazing responsibility, and even an amazing magic feather.

The Force is strange. Boy, is it strange. He wasn't about to start arguing. At this rate, there would be galactic peace by dinner time.

"I'd love to wear it as a necklace," Vance replied, sitting up in his seat. Quite a few things had shocked him today, and this feather seemed to be one of them. He could imagine it hanging from his neck, symbolizing and maybe even physically being a bond to Talau.

This is important though. This was like nothing Vance had ever possessed before. This feather wasn't another physical possession; it was spiritual, and as such it was worth infinitely more than anything the padawan had ever held. The Jedi were trained not to form attachments, and Vance wouldn't let this feather be his doom, but nevertheless he would protect it with every energy he could muster.

To him, it was truly a treasure.

Shock and disbelief…that was what she felt from the boy as he saw the feather in her hands.

It wasn’t a negative set of emotions, in fact, behind both there seemed to be quite a bit of awe. Seeing was believing, they said…and whoever ‘they’ were, they were right; most people didn’t believe something until they saw it for themselves. Jedi were no different than anyone else in the galaxy, no matter what anyone said. Certainly they held some different abilities than most, but they were still just people, and bound by many of the same truths as those outside of the Order in such things as believing what is and isn’t true.

Vance was no exception in that either. If anything Jedi were taught to be hyper-rational, and much of what she’d told him was…well, it required a stretch of the imagination, to say the least. Still, it was the little things that would slowly allow him to see the truth that she lived with daily. The feather, her feather, was just the beginning.

“Wow…Thank you Tal.”

Smiling, she nodded, folding her arms comfortably.

“I’d love to wear it as a necklace.”

”Then I’ll make it into one for you. Here, let me see it…it shouldn’t take long.”

Taking the feather back, she’d move over to the bed and kneel down, pulling another small case from the shadows and carrying it over to the desk and sitting down. The small tool kit housed the tools she used to make both sabers and anything dealing with her feathers, and it was the latter items that she withdrew. A thin spool of bead-chain to make the necklace itself, some sturdy wire and a small clasp as well as several tools were settled on the desk before her before she began to work, eyes closing lightly.

”So tell me, have you created your own lightsaber yet? Or have you started one?” she asked as deft fingers made a tiny hole in the shaft of the feather before cutting the wire she would need from one of the spools. ”Because if you still need to create one, that should be our first order of business…” came the added statement. Slipping the wire through the hole in the feather shaft, she began twisting the wire about from the base of the ‘feather’ itself toward the tip of the shaft, making that part as strong as possible, all the while molding the force into the metal and the feather as she went. It wasn’t the same as meditating over it would have done, but it would help strengthen everything a bit, as well as add more of her presence to the object.

”That also makes me wonder…what path, exactly, are you considering in the jedi…I mean once you reach knighthood?”

Tal set to work immediately granting Vance's request (or rather filling her offer), and no sooner had she procured a small box of tools and materials from under her bed, she was knowingly piecing the feather into a necklace. Vance had to admire how quickly to she set to work on it; it seemed with determination came action.

As she worked, however, Talau began to produce a few questions as well. It seemed Vance was not the only curious one.

"So tell me, have you created your own lightsaber yet? Or have you started one?"

"I've sort of started one. Before Tem left, he was going to take me to Illum to find a crystal. Beyond that, I intended to actually make my saber piece-by-piece from scratch." Vance took a second to try and count how many times he had burned himself while being tutored by one of the Artisans. They had been a big help, but studying more or less on his own at the time, Vance had learned what skills he had mostly by trial and error.

"I've got a few pieces, but that's about it."

It was strange to be able to talk about Tem like that, so easily. Vance had supposed that his second master would be a sensitive subject, much like Shon'tul used to be. Instead, however, he found himself moving on surprisingly quickly. It seemed a bit odd to him, but he decided that if it meant not clinging to the past like a moping child, it was fine.

"That also makes me wonder…what path, exactly, are you considering in the jedi…I mean once you reach knighthood?”

Vance blinked, and had to catch himself from actually asking aloud "What?". Honestly, in his entire life, Vance doubted he had ever been seriously asked that question. Not for reasons of obviousness or sensitivity, but honestly because no one had ever been in the position to ask that and actually did so. Shon'tul had died before ever asking about Vance's eventual role as a Jedi, and Tem simply hadn't been around long enough.

Therefore, the question was entirely alien.

Vance blinked, unsure of what to even think. He had thought about his future, sure. Everyone did. But he had never actually wondered as to what he would be labeled as. To be frightfully honest, he had never really wanted to be labeled.

Guardian is too... obedient. Vance would never be able to live a life dedicated to simply "defending the Order". He liked thinking and using his skills too much to simply cast them aside, pick up a saber, and spout off the Code as he chopped at the enemies of the Order.

But Consular is too... inactive. At the same time, the padawan hated the idea of never taking definitive action, and always trying to think his way out of situations. Vance might have been young, but he knew enough to realize that diplomacy wasn't always to best way to handle something. The same could be said for philosophy; it was imperative, of course, but not the solution to every situation in the galaxy.

And yet Sentinel just... isn't appealing. Vance had this image of Sentinels in his mind as Jedi who got around on their wits; in his perception, they relied on skills rather than the Jedi teachings. He would admit that if you had skills, you should certainly use them, but he disliked the idea of simply having nothing else to fall back on.

"Honestly? I don't think I've ever been asked that before." Vance rose from his chair, doing a little pacing of his own.

"I really don't have the slightest idea." Considering that today he had been handed his future back, that statement made Vance feel just a little vulnerable.

So, Vance hadn’t made his saber yet. That would be the first thing that she would remedy. It was a right of passage, so to speak, for Jedi padawans…a sign that they really were on the right track toward becoming a knight, not to mention it was one of the most important tools they would ever have. If the boy needed anything right now, it was to know that he was on the correct path. If there was anything he would need in his future as her padawan, it was that most important tool.

Yes, the saber would come as soon as the Council recognized the fact that they were now master and student…there was no point to delaying it.

The confusion at her second question, however, made her open her eyes and look over at him from her work, pausing for a moment before going back to what she’d been doing. It seemed that her question had been one that he’d not expected…or perhaps never even considered.

“Honestly? I don’t think I’ve ever been asked that before.”

”Oh?”

“I really don’t have the slightest idea.”

”Hmm…” Finishing with the wire, she attached the two clasps…one on the necklace chain to be able to close it, and one on the wire at the end of the feather to hang it on the chain. She thought it was sort of odd that no one had asked the boy what he’d wanted to be, which path he was following…especially not his last master. How else did this Tem know if he was going to be able to teach Vance what was important to his future tasks? Certainly there were the general teachings of the jedi and their skills, but each ‘branch’ had their own way of thinking and acting, not to mention to approaching problems or duties that they performed.

”Well, then let’s go about this a different way, shall we?” Sliding the feather onto the chain she studied her work for a moment before getting up and handing the whole thing to Vance. Once he took it, she’d settle herself in her seat again and put the items she’d used away again. ”I am a sentinel, in the broadest respect…though I was originally trained by a guardian and was going to become one myself. I also know enough consulars to be able to teach you the ideals of that path, if you wished. The question is: what do you know about each of these branches? Because if you don’t understand them and their roles in the Order, you won’t be able to make the best decision for yourself.”