Early in the day(Shinska,fromikeable, Reisier)

[Adobi-Wan Kenobi]

Gharassk shook the thought of the new dream away.
He had heard Anahid almost giggle when he said that the force was why they where here tonight.

Gharassk tilted his head to one side then asked...
Have you lost faith in the force Anahid? If so what is the cause of this lost faith?

Gharassk was confident that the force was the reason he was here with other that had the same issue.
He was not going to change the beliefs of Anahid if she was hard stooped on them but he would at least make sure the truth was at least known.

[Reisier]

Vance was the first of the two to speak after Gharassk’s sudden episode; she had to admit, that she was rather curious herself – the boy seemed intensely troubled, very much so like Vance a few minutes ago; but the Trotuga said nothing – he just stood there, perplexed by the thoughts that carried through his head. Anahid frowned lightly, but she said nothing – were the boy willing to share, he would do so in his own time and place. And while she had thought that the boys would go on with their own conversation, Gharassk spoke to her instead.

“Have you lost faith in the force Anahid? If so what is the cause of this lost faith?”

Lost faith? Maybe. But maybe she was just tired – tired of a senseless war, tired of loss, tired of fighting. Yes, she was especially tired of fighting, exhausted really. From a young age she had been breathing this lifestyle, from the learnt concepts to putting the welfare of others before her own; individual emotions had been abandoned, attachments forgotten. Become chained into eternal obedience, submitting themselves wholeheartedly to the Force. It was – a bit pointless nowadays, wasn’t it? Jedi also were meant to respect all life, yet, they found themselves often fighting – sometimes killing – an opposing group, whether be it Sith or Mandalorians. Yet, regardless of her beliefs, of her personal feelings, she could not let these stand between the Code she had been sworn unto; nevertheless, she could not allow her personal ordeals to fall unto the shoulders of two so young – these worries did not concern them; it would be unfair for her to burden them.

“I don’t believe I have,”[/color] She started slowly, carefully weighting the power of her words. “…lost my way in the Force, that is.”[/color] Anahid paused, chewing her lower lip gently before she carried on, “More so, you could say that I am tired of the war it created…”[/color] A partial truth. “…that is all.”[/color] She left no room for question, no place for him to utter any doubt – it would be unwise, she figured, to do so; knowledge would hinder, ignorance would liberate. She smiled softly in his direction, though she was a bit confused, had she really let that much slip through? She frowned and pursed her lips, “War has destroyed many lives, you see – stolen many souls from our ranks – Jedi, Padawan, and Masters alike.”[/color] She sighed and averted her gaze – herself having had experienced the former more than once – “I am just tired of the war… “[/color]

[Fromikeable]

Vance frowned a little when Gharassk had ignored his question; he had been hoping to help another burdened soul, such as he himself was. Nevertheless, he understood. If anyone had even mentioned Master Shon-tul merely a few weeks ago, Vance was sure he would have given a likewise shrug-off, and changed the subject.

Instead of answering Vance's question, Gharassk asked Anahid if she had lost her faith in the Force. Vance was a little surprised to hear such a question; it was quite the accusation for a Jedi.

"I don’t believe I have, lost my way in the Force, that is. " Vance nodded. It was extremely difficult to say that one had lost all faith in the Force. Even the Sith, who many imagined as following something other than the Force, dedicated their lives to it (albeit for much different reasons).

"More so, you could say that I am tired of the war it created… that is all. War has destroyed many lives, you see - stolen many souls from our ranks - Jedi, Padawan, and Masters alike. I am just tired of war..." Anahid spoke with great caution, as if every word could be a potential threat. Towards the end, she seemed to reflect more than speak, and Vance came to understand. She's lost someone to the great reach of violence.

Vance considered her words. Isn't everyone tired of war? No, he thought. Some seek it. Some ask for it, and others receive it. The reasons always change, but the war always stays the same. War never changes. But surely there must be a voice in every mind shouting "Don't do it! It's not worth it!" Perhaps, but it must not be strong enough to prevent such things. There must always be another voice that says the opposite; in the case of war, one that feels more... justified. More... Vance mouthed the final word, powerful...

"I'm not sure anyone likes war," Vance thought aloud, responding, "at least they don't like warfare in and of itself." Vance again stared at the stars (they seemed to be his companion tonight. It must be because of the wisdom they hold). In each glistening speck, Vance saw no violence. In each beacon of light, the padawan observed no reason to fight. Why, then, must we? "I guess it always stems from the minds that cause it; people never want to be unjust, but everyone find different things to be justified."

[Adobi-Wan Kenobi]

Gharassk had accepted Anahid's words. So she had not lost faith then why did she make such a comment as comparing fate to the force?

But he had to wait in order to bring up the subject again Gharassk was the complete opposite for he knew the Sith must die in order for peace to take place however the dark side had it's own place in the galaxy, well, that's what some said. Gharassk thought it to be another completely different version of the force.

Gharassk then turned to Vance once more and sat next to him with his legs crossed, needed to get every one to talk about this mess which haunted the three of them tonight.

In order to do this he needed to tell his share.

Your master? Was his death honorable?
Gharassk had hoped not to hit Vance with those words this was just how he was going to open with his own master who left in a much different way.

[Reisier]

"I'm not sure anyone likes war, at least they don't like warfare in and of itself."

Anahid smiled softly as the Padawan spoke, knowledge present in every synapse, every sound that left his tongue. Yet, was it possible for this knowledge to also produce foolishness within the boy? He was young; full of possibilities and greatness, yes, but he was still young. While what he said was true, it was unusual for many to like war, it was not unusual to find those that actively sought it – those who found war to be enjoyable. Then there were those that overvalued it, those who rewrote the war and made frivolous attempts to make the tale worthwhile. They were those who never really experienced the war themselves, instead opting to retell stories they heard from someone else; stories, Anahid noted, that were often spun well and out of proportion; would this war be glorified years from now, its cruelties and deaths forgotten, instead replaced by romanticized tales of heroes and villains?

“War is not for everyone; similarly, peace is not for all.”

War was confusing, full of ‘ifs,’ ‘ands,’ and ‘buts,’ while some people despised it – others enjoyed it. There was no real answer when it came to war – no wrong, no right. War was nothing but mass murder, and it continuously confused her. The Jedi, preservers of life, were they nothing more than soldiers for pay? She chewed on her tongue, eyes falling unto the second Padawan as he spoke. She listened partially, but did little more than that, eyes retuning to the gardens before her.

War was not for the feebleminded, nor was it for those weak of spirit, nor was it for the scholars – war was for those willing to risk losing everything in hopes of gaining something. It was a war that gripped planets far away – fought by a handpicked few that brought forth this putrid slaughter. Death was not meant for them, it was meant for the others – the enemies, the insurgents, the terrorists, the Sith. But, maybe they were the terrorists, maybe they and their ideals, their passion, their hope were the ones creating the war; maybe, amidst all this chaos, they had failed to see that their enemies actually were the freedom fighters and they, in turn, were the invaders – they were the ones that were not welcome, the ones tearing families apart – they were the enemies.

Anahid fidgeted, her eyes falling on the coiling shapes of the plants around them – the force pulsed within them, rolling up and down their bodies and dispersing to the ground beneath them – she closed her eyes. The wind rolled, the grasses swayed, and the Jedi sat silently, her still form feeling the force that moved around her. There was an odd stillness to it that eased her worried being. Just breathe.

[Fromikeable]

“War is not for everyone; similarly, peace is not for all.”

Anahid responded with a sort of consideration Vance had lacked. That's when he realized; he had merely spoken from observation and imagination. She spoke with experience, and wisdom, and therefore, she knew a bit better than he.

Then Gharassk spoke. "Your master? Was his death honorable?" Normally, this question would have thrust Vance back into his hysterics. The words stung, and a lump would have appeared in Vance's throat.

Tonight, however, tears were unnecessary. Vance was far beyond crying to solve his problems; they did little when you were among those that understood you. The question hurt, of course, but it was bearable to know that instead of just sympathy, the asker was empathetic.

"I'm not sure how much honor there can be in any death," Vance responded, again thinking aloud. His mind and voice seemed to be one in the same tonight. "If you mean to ask if he was respected in his fight, then I can't answer you." Vance lowered his hand to his belt, running his finger across the odd-yet-familiar hilt (every time he felt it, it reminded him that it was not made for him). Part of him wished he was still fighting when his master had arrived; I could've helped. I could've saved him. The other part of him reminded him otherwise. No you couldn't of; that man was far stronger than you, and maybe even stronger than Shon-tul.

"I was out cold when when he died; lying on the ground electrocuted."

[Adobi-Wan Kenobi]

Gharassk knew his words would hurt but it was the only way he could git on common ground with Vance.

My master was a Coward.... he took the easy and quick way out of his problems. He sighed after a short pause then started to speak again.
I looked up to him tell he turned to the dark side.
His stomach churned a bit then he made it stop. in his view emotion was a part of life and life could not live without it even the grand masters and council members of old had emotions.

Gharassk knew that all three of the ones here could help each other learn from the other. But it seamed it would be hard to convince them of it now. He looked out past the tops of the buildings and saw nothing but darkness, it reminded him of the darkness that was on the rise today, the same darkness that took his own master.

Gharassk looked to Vance again and shook his head. Your master's death was honorable more so then mines turning. I would have given any thing to have had your master not a Coward like mine.

[Reisier]

Anahid listened quietly by the bench, hands resting heavily against the porous surface; her head was gently tilted, eyes falling lazily upon the young Padawans. With unwavering eyes she watched their conversation continued, shifting towards the loss of their masters – she listened listlessly, watching as answers were unwillingly dragged out. Sitting on the edge of the bench, Anahid’s eyes traveled across the dense foliage and moist grottoes – a stone path lay not too far before her, its jagged forms cutting through the jungle-like chambers. Farther ahead, it’s pressing made known by the gentle lapping waters, was a pond, filled with bright-colored fish, a place butterflies and dragonflies often frequented. For a minute, she almost forgot the seriousness of the conversation, the peace around her enveloping her and instilling an odd tranquility within her body.

Yes, the garden was wonderful – beautiful, in fact. A constant reminder of the good things that still came with life. Well, at least that is how Anahid felt. It was a moment that never lasted long, however, reality soon hitting her. Her untouched skin shimmered from the light, giving the Jedi a pleasant, warming feeling. Her thoughtful head was tilted, propped gently by a slender hand, resting comfortably upon her knee. For the most part her body was relaxed, barely being held by her muscles, it seemed, though the only sign of tension was spread across her face: a frown. It was at times like these that she missed Karem, where she hoped his council would lead her through this. She missed his voice of reason, the calmness of his voice, the way he told her everything was going to be alright. She missed seeing the world through carefree eyes, how the people seemed happier, the music livelier that played from tattered, old radios around which old men seemed to gather around.

She sighed softly and gave a little frown, wondering what Karem would have said – and then she laughed – probably that she was over-thinking it, as per usual. He would say that there was no need to worry, that life would figure itself out – that it was impossible for war to last a lifetime – people would wake-up eventually. Anahid couldn’t help but agree – things had to get better. Her attention shifted, brought forth once more to the two Padawans as they spoke.

“Your master's death was honorable more so then mines turning. I would have given any thing to have had your master not a Coward like mine.”

Her heart dropped lightly as she heard him speak; did he really feel this way? Were the Sith and Jedi so different that even a boy this young felt so strongly against them? She let the statement settle in her mind – Jedi and Sith were one and the same, she had always figured, and this war had only proved it more. Both felt anger, rage, hate – both had come to kill mercilessly – both suffered, both felt pain, felt love. Of course, their motivations for war were different, but the outcome was the same, the two fought relentlessly against fellow men, the two had blood in their hands in order to live. She didn’t approve of their approach to warfare, no, she never would, but she couldn’t force herself to hate them – they were not so different.

"Do you --" She started slowly, "...do you really hate your master so?"

[Fromikeable]

So that's it.

After the entire night being spent dwelling deeper in his own being, Vance was relieved to not only help Gharassk, but to focus on something external. Sometimes the only scarier than the world around you was the world within, and quite frankly, Vance was a tad wary as to go any further into his own psyche. It was an emotional reaction, but a human one.

And yet, as Gharassk accused his own master of being a coward, something dawned on Vance. We Jedi, we protectors of the universe, we are expected to be these machines; righteous droids programmed with only honesty, serenity, and peace of mind. The padawan looked upon his Togruta companion. But at the end of the day, we're not droids. We're not simply machines put to work until we break. We an't be fixed by replacing a few parts.

We're people too.

Vance stood, leaving his imprint on the grass below. The night continued along its way in a peaceful state, allowing the Jedi to bask in its beauty as they talked. The sky was cloudless tonight; Vance's vast array of stars twinkled without interruption, and the moon shone through the darkness with an incredible grace. To the people below, the night sky simply starred with soft eyes.

But the sky was not the only thing benefitting from the Force's kind embrace that night. In each of their hearts, Vance could sense a sort of change. It was not momentous, nor was it awe-inspiring, but it was important none the less. As each of them had spoken tonight, each had slowly opened their hearts to others, and allowed the Force to guide their tongues, minds, and actions. The Force had brought them together, as beings filled with hurt and trouble, and had helped them find in each other the peace that did not exist in themselves.

Vance and Anahid had already embraced this. Both had admitted their emotions and their humanity to the others, and both were better for it. They had it easy (comparitively speaking); We both know our friends long lost are one with the Force.

Gharassk, however did not seem so lucky. His master, as he told it, turned his back on the Force, wielding it as a weapon instead of living with it as a constant presence. Yet even in his weakness, severe as it might be, Vance knew that Gharassk still loved his master. He merely hated what his master had become, and wished that before the man had taken his own life, he had remembered who he was.

Vance sat next to Gharassk and gazed accross the gardens. Still bathed in moonlight and swaying ever so lightly in the calm breeze, the Gardens were beautiful. But one flower stood out. It was decrepit and broken; a shamble of its counterparts of beauty. An idea occured to Vance.

Anahid asked Gharassk if he truly hated his master. Before he answered, Vance removed himself from next to the Togruta and traversed the Garden, stopping at the poor, decrepit flower. Taking ever so much care, Vance knelt down and gently parted the dirt, cautiously uprooting the flower along with a clump of dirt to submerge its roots in. As the Gharassk responded to the Knight, Vance reseated himself next to the other padawan, starring at his new discovery.

If something so simple as a flower can heal itself, Vance thought, listening to Gharassk's response, then maybe we can too.

[Adobi-Wan Kenobi]

"Do you --" Anahid started slowly, "...do you really hate your master so?"
At Gharassk's words about his master.
Gharassk shook his head. He was happy about the things of the night Every one had spoken there mind to the other, NOW it's your turn. Gharassk said to himself in his mind.

No,No i do not hate my master...I hate what he has done to himself. Gharassk said in reply to her. I hope him to come back, I hope he would not have took the easy way out of his trouble. I hate that, That he had not tried to kill me, I hate him for turning to the Darkness. You see that is why i wish to get rid of the Darkness for it claim lives with no reason. For he still is claiming lives today who knows who's life. I just want to end the killing, just as you wish it to be gone Anahid.

Gharassk saw Vance return with a crippled flower, Could he maybe? He knew a Little of healing could he push himself and concentrate on it.
Gharassk thought he could but should he? Was Vance learning an important lesson from it? Could Gharassk?

Gharassk let out a sigh. So you see, i don't hate him, I hate what he became.

[Reisier]

The woman listened on, a small smile on her lips, though she was not entirely sure that she understood him. He hated what he had become, yet, he was a strong believer in the decisions of the Force. The Force dictated everything, from the moment your lungs tastes air for the first time, to the very last gasp you gave – it chose their relationships, their ideals, who they chose to follow and believe – yet, the Padawan blamed him for all that had come to be. While she did not particularly agree with the Dark users, nor did she consent with the massacre of innocent – means that they often used – she did feel pity for them. To Anahid, the Dark users where the same as many of Jedi during times of war – they were lost souls. They were those who, in being overwhelmed by the vastness of the Force, had lost themselves. To a certain extent, she understood how they felt – the weariness, the confusion, how you left everything you were in order to pursue an ideal inherited from others. Amidst all the work done to find their self, find their soul and power within the force, they had lost the very essence of their being and had been dragged into the turmoil of war.

She looked down, staring at the brim of her brown boots – they, the Jedi, were not so different from the creatures Gharassk described then. In times of war Jedi were often forced to make decisions many peers would have never opted to participate in. They too took lives – stole them from their rightful owners without really knowing what had brought them to that point. What had twisted their arm and forced them to raise their weapons against the Jedi. They had become, to a certain extent, nothing more than glorified killers – soldiers of war. She sighed softly and raised her head, pulling her braid across her shoulder and fumbling with its tip. Life was complicated, so was this war, even more the role expected of them throughout the process. It made her often wonder if this was even worth it anymore. The Jedi had strayed away from their original code and instead replaced it with a pseudo sense of importance – it confused her.

“I see – that is good to hear, that you don’t hate your master.”[/color] Her response was rather simple as she looked out into the distance, her mind preoccupied by the problems at hand – was this what she really wanted, was this war the last thing she wanted to experienced? No.

[Fromikeable]

((Sory this is so late. Real life can be a harsh mistress))

Gharassk made Vance sigh when he admitted he didn't hate his master. Vance had known he didn't, but still, hearing a confession put his mind at ease. Hate wasn't the point of tonight. Tonight was all about acceptance.

Vance leaned forward, gazing at his small new plant. The poor white flower held a little purple in its petals, and seemed to glow ever so softly. However, the beauty was deterred by the stem's bend and lean of weakness, and the petals inky, deteriorated look and instability. Vance frowned; this smal specimen of plant life had seen better days, and he wished he could do something to help it. After all, he had helped and had been helped by two sentient beings tonight. Surely a flower could be mended.

“I see – that is good to hear, that you don’t hate your master.” Vance hummed in agreement. Gharassk had finally come to terms, and now all three of them were on more or less the same plane of understanding. Their stories differed, but the idea was the same. Each had lost, thanks to corruption, anger, sorrow, and the general negative side of sentience, someone they had held very dearly both personally and professionally. That sort of take-away left deep scars, and usually they stayed with a person for life. Tonight proved, however, that in empathetic company, even the worst scars could heal.

"Gharassk," Vance nudged the Togruta's shoulder. "help me with this." With that inclination, Vance uncupped his hands and raised his right palm to the flower's petals. Closing his eyes, Vance reached out, and felt the all-too familiar presence of the Force. For a moment, he couldn't help but wander the Garden aimlessly; he lightly brushed the grass, the trees, the other flowers, and even nudged Anahid and Gharassk. In a moment, he found what he was looking for; the flowers that resembled this broken one. He studied them and the way the Force flowed through them, beginning in both the petals and roots, and slowly coarsing through the plant's veins and cells.

Satisfied after a moment's study, Vance directed his attention to his own plant. The organism obviously differed in its flow of the Force, with some parts devoid of flow, and others far too much.

Vance frowned in this revelation. He knew the problem, but he hadn't the foggiest as to how to actually fix the flower. He had heard theories, of course, but he had never actually put them into practice.

It's worth a shot, and it'll be especially worth it for us all to see... See what? Vance wasn't sure, but it'd be worth it. Slowly, working mainly on guess work, theories, and random decision, the padawan began mending the flow of the Force throughout the flower, trying to bring it closer to that of its similars.

[Adobi-Wan Kenobi]

"Gharassk, help me with this." Vance said as he bumped Gharassk to get his attention.
Vance lead into the garden further, Right behind you, Gharassk replied as he fallowed Vance to the plants that matched the one in his hand.

Gharassk Concentrated deeply on the plant as Vance replaced it to it's own kind. He knew a little about healing enough to maybe stop a Little pain, maybe stop some bleeding on smaller wounds, could he transfer what he had learned already to this plant? He knew with both Vance and himself they could and they all needed it, the up-build of even small life would help every one.

Gharassk knelt down on both knees and put his hand over the flower, his eyes shut calling to mind his teachings, there he found it, what he could only describe as, Life, He let his mind dwell on the thoughts of the flower and the healing until after a few Minuit's he felt it start to recoup from it's own pain. He let out a deep breath and and stood to look on it, it did still look different but better then it had looked before. He had saved a life small as it may have been he and Vance had helped it regrow he looked to see if Anahid was also a part of it and though he saw her he did not know if she was apart of it.

[Reisier]

From where she was sitting, she could see the garden perfectly. Save the chirping of the bugs and the chattering that they had brought, the gardens were silent, undisturbed, with millions of plants and flowers peeking shyly from their homes. Away from the fickle matters set by the turmoil and uncertainty of life, away from the cities whose silence was marred by the humming of machinery, in the temple, in this very garden, amongst the frivolity of nature, this is where the answer to her many questions lay.

It was amongst the sound of the rushing wind that she found herself staring off into the nothingness, finding comfort in the stillness of the night. Would it be possible to be so close to the answer and, at the same time, so far? Her heart sunk, stomach knotted – what if she was never able to find the answer? No, the answer needed to be hiding somewhere. So this is what uncertainty felt like. Like the sunlight had faded long ago, so to had the gleam of her eyes faded and darkened with the quickly advancing waters that filled her soul. Its ominous approach only hastened by the hurling winds that seemed to dictate the tempo with which the Jedi breathed. Breathe, Anahid, just breathe. She straightened her back, relaxed her muscles, allowing a deep breath to linger in her lungs before being released. Everything was going to be fine – she was overreacting. She lifted her head, the monotonous tapping of her thoughts suddenly stopping.

Her eyes darted discreetly to the Padawans to her right, curious to see what had captured the attention of the two. However, she found them long-gone. Looking up, she could see where their force readings had left a trail; curiosity got the better of the woman as she rose to a stance and quietly followed. It was shortly after she began to follow them that she found them not too far away, standing in a clearing with a crowd of shy flowers at their feet. She stared with unwavering eyes; it was only a minute after that she allowed herself to smile. She could see it clearly, what the two were attempting – it was clear in that small plant they held between them, it’s Force pulsing erratically in comparison to the rest. She smiled further as she watched the two begin to work, their spirits working together to restore the plant’s true essence.

Finally, after watching silently throughout the process, the Jedi spoke up, a small smile cradling her lips. “You seem to have a good grasp at healing,”[/color] She spoke half-heartedly, her steps moved feely, as if having a mind of their own, causing the stray echo of her steps to bounce throughout the clearing. “…However, you don’t seem to know the entire process.” She spoke tenderly as she pressed a hand to her chest the other nestling above the plant, “Your flow is different from that of the plant, you need to synchronize your flow to the plants’ own in order to return health to them.” Seconds passed before Anahid retrieved her hand finishing what the two Padawan had begun.

“You two show promise in healing, you should consider the trait.” She was not the best in the area, the Jedi would admit when asked, but she could manage and she knew enough to lend a hand whenever it was needed.

[Fromikeable]

Vance looked on in wonder. Anahid was right; he hadn't the foggiest what he was doing, but it was superb to see someone else did. As Anahid drew her presence from the flower, Vance held it up to the moon, and smiled; it was beautiful. The petals once decrepit and withering were now lush and smooth, drawing in the moonlight the same way the other flowers did. The petals each and every one held a different shape, and were pure white except for a purplish hint towards their base. The petals together fanned out, and formed an organic, spreading structure; the kind every architect could only dream of. The flower's stem was now strong and thick, with the moon paling it's greenish hue. Even the roots, buried in the same amount of soil as before, seemed larger, protruding from the dirt in a thirst for growth. On the whole, the flower had not only become healthy, but had become strong.

Beyond the physical, the flower had also changed in the Force. It now flowed seamlessly and steadily, with no abrupt inputs or outputs. What had once been a petty fringe of the Force was now a powerful conduit; a shining example of life in its prime. And yet, even though the flower's own life was fully restored, it contained something more; a small hint of that beyond itself. In short, each of the Jedi had left their own little impressions upon the life form, with their tracks subtly guiding the very Force.

Vance looked for a moment more, and then bent his knees to a squat. Finding the original hole he had dug, Vance carefully lowered the newly invigorated plant back into the ground, which almost seemed to greet it as a friend long lost. Vance braced his hands to the ground, and then separated them, allowing the flower to nestle into the rest of the dirt. After a little digging and a few light pats, the flower appeared to never have left its place in the world.

Vance stood and looked at the flower one final time. It seemed perfect for its life to come; strong, beautiful, and unique. Then Vance looked upon Gharassk and Anahid, and he realized something.

"I... I'm not sure what we've done or what you would call it," he gestured toward the flower, smiling warmly, "but it's incredible."

[Adobi-Wan Kenobi]

“You seem to have a good grasp at healing,
…However, you don’t seem to know the entire process. Your flow is different from that of the plant, you need to synchronize your flow to the plants’ own in order to return health to them.
You two show promise in healing, you should consider the trait.

Gharassk then stood up and brushed his hands off from the dirt,
When you don't have a single master to learn from, but you pick up a little from all you speak to, you learn a few things. Gharassk smiled with a half grin.

"I... I'm not sure what we've done or what you would call it, but it's incredible." Vance said slowly.
Then Gharassk started from where he had last spoke also encouraging Vance.
I don't think i would have been strong enough to have healed it by my self. Gharassk let out a sigh and turned to Anahid Wondering if she would speak before he would get the chance but he did.

With the Jedi helping the Republic, the balance will return, just as me and Vance did to the plant, however it will take more then one of us, a guarantee it.

[Reisier]

Anahid’s eyes moved across the array of plants that fitted into the little clearing. They climbed over each other, she noted, as if attempting to get a better look at them. Curiosity dripped from their bodies, shaking lightly before settling into their rightful place. It was a silly sight, but beautiful nonetheless. The first cognizant thought that crossed her mind as she returned to the real world was the vague impression of a voice – an ephemeral thing. She turned towards Vance. He was, for lack of a better word, struck – glancing happily at the plant they had returned to full health..

“It’s a beautiful feeling, isn’t it, the ability to return lost health.”[/color] She smiled lightly as she watched the plant sway, “It is the greatest gift of the force one that many take for granted, Force Healing.”[/color] She furrowed her brow and glanced to her side, “Try not to forget it,”[/color]

By the time Anahid finished and she was free to look around, she noticed that the gardens had settled-down, the sounds and the sights falling into a quiet rhythm that rolled through the night. The chaos of the day dwindled as the sun had set and now the gardens lay still – almost as if frozen in time. Even the remnants of energy that were visible in the cricket’s chirp had settled, their melody greeting onlookers’ ears. Remnants of energy hung from the eaves of the shop as if an early evening dew. Regardless if she felt tired or not, whenever things died down, an odd sense of serenity would overcome her, causing the woman to nestle herself comfortably underneath a tree. Then there were those days were she felt compelled to observe, not to think, but to watch. Then there were the days like today where she found herself in the company of others, and when the Knight spoke earnestly.

Her eyes shifted towards the Togruta, her body stiffening momentarily, feeling her heart stop. He spoke so surely of the Jedi’s role in the war, in how they were to return order to the Republic once more, but Anahid was unsure – something spoke to her, something told her that peace in the Republic would take years to obtain, if it even were possible. And, if it were, it would not be in their lifetime that they would be graced with the comfort of peace. The Jedi should not be held responsible for the development of the war nor for its end – it was not their duty to support nor to stop it, but to aid. It would not be until the people chose to stop the war, that they said ‘no more,’ that peace would come.

“The efforts of the war are not meant for one group alone we are guardians, protectors of life, not destroyers of it.”[/color]

[Fromikeable]

“It’s a beautiful feeling, isn’t it, the ability to return lost health. It is the greatest gift of the force one that many take for granted, Force Healing. Try not to forget it." Vance nodded at the Jedi's words; she was spot on. I should seriously consider becoming a healer, the padawan ruminated, looking at their accomplishment. "I'll definitely try not to."

Vance's wonder at the flower continued as Gharassk and Anahid discussed the war. He knew it was nothing to be proud of considering that the Temple's healers could mend far more complex things than dying flowers. Even so, Vance felt mesmerized to have done it himself, even he had had some help.

Gharassk then spoke his mind; that the Jedi would aid the Republic and restore balance to the galaxy. The thought made Vance's face contort sightly in thought; could helping one side truly help strike a balance? And of all balances, the galaxy? It made sense in the immediate future, but Vance tried to imagine the effects going beyond the following years. What would the world be centuries from now? Would their choices reach that far? In what way? Would they be overpowered by someone else's? Would they trigger someone else's? It was impossible to say.

Anahid responded by remarking that the Jedi were not warriors; they were preservers of life. Vance nodded, but found a dilema in that thinking; when life fights life, which is chosen to continue living? It was another possible question. We can follow the Force, but that doesn't mean we call the shots, he thought, looking at his Togruta friend. Gharrask had spoken with a tone of utter confidence; one Vance found admirable if not slightly abrupt in logic.

"I'm not sure it's that simple Gharrask. The Force must guide us in choosing what battles we fight, for Anahid is right; we are the preservers of life. If at all possible, we should try to refrain from destroying it." The padawan pointed to the flower. "Take this plant. Would it live if it were not the direction of the Force? Would we have gathered and helped it if the Force had not led us here?" Vance then closed his eyes, considering vividly. "We must not forget who we are, how we turned out that way, and what our power is used for."

"But perhaps you're right. Perhaps the Force is sending us to fight the Sith. But we must always have just the smallest inclination of doubt."

[Adobi-Wan Kenobi]

"I'm not sure it's that simple Gharrask. The Force must guide us in choosing what battles we fight, for Anahid is right; we are the preservers of life. If at all possible, we should try to refrain from destroying it.
Take this plant. Would it live if it were not the direction of the Force? Would we have gathered and helped it if the Force had not led us here?We must not forget who we are, how we turned out that way, and what our power is used for.
But perhaps you're right. Perhaps the Force is sending us to fight the Sith. But we must always have just the smallest inclination of doubt."

Gharassk nodded at the two others words then spoke up himself.

I did not say we where murders,
I simply said that if we are to guard the peace and Republic we swore to protect, and the Sith wish to destroy it, Are we not obligated to preserve the peace, it dose not always mean killing ya' know.

Gharassk then addressed the same flower he had helped Vance with.

I under stand what you just said, don't forget that i strongly believe the force controls all we do from the time we first awaken, to the last. He was still being respectful to the both.

But if the Republic where the same flower, and it was in need of our help as the Republic is now, would we not strengthen it? Protect it?

[Reisier]

“It is not… that simple.”[/color]

Anahid’s expression softened slightly as she heard the two Padawan speaking in turn – their hearts were in the right place, but their minds were still too tender. War was never simple, what Gharassk reduced to a simple battle between good and evil, right versus wrong, was a compilation of opposing ideals that clashed, enveloping all that stood in their way. War was beyond confusing, full of opposing factions and one lie after another. In war you could no longer tell a truth from a lie, all truths should be viewed as lies, and all lies viewed as possibilities. War was about deception, so what gave them the right, the authority to decide what could be right and what should be wrong? Nevertheless, in this muddled state, what gave them the power to justify the Jedi’s decisions?

What gave them the right to justify murder? Sith or not, Jedi or not, insurgents or not – a life was a life; by taking one the Jedi were losing everything they aimed to defend and to stand for. The Padawans, were far too young and it was highly unlikely that their blades had the misfortune to taste blood – Anahid partially hoped they would remain this way – to fully understand the lingering horror of a kill. She knew it and other Jedi knew it too. She listened partially, but did little more than that, eyes retuning to the gardens before her.

Anahid fidgeted, eyes falling on the coiling shapes of the plants around them, the force pulsing strongly around them, rolling up and down their bodies and dispersing to the ground beneath them – she almost smiled. Farther away from them, the force rolled in an erratic spur, a second wave coiling tightly around it – stifling its presence. A taller bush, beautiful and strong, was fighting for survival. “You can take the ongoing war as the nature of those plants,”[/color] An ivy, Anahid noted, had made its way around the bush and in a desperate attempt to survive itself, had snared around the plant, obstructing its growth. “…You say that the force instructs us to protect one of these plants, to strengthen it; yet, while you give life to one, you will destroy the life of another. War is not simple – it is not an easy matter as many have instructed.”[/color]

The wind rolled, the grasses swayed, and the Jedi turned to the younger two. “In this life you will hear many opinions. But, remember that is all they are – opinions – remember to be doubtful, regardless of who speaks. Be respectful without being feeble to the words of others.”[/color]