Edge of Night |Reisier|

[Dutch]

Thunder always travels well on Seraphim. With it's vast plains, open skies, and minority of mountains it wasn't hard to understand why. But one lonely mountain range sprung up on the idyllic world. Here, lay one of the safest places in the galaxy: Citadel. A massive fortress of pure white stone carved right into the mountain, the great fortress has never even seen battle, nor would it ever thanks to the angels that guarded it from space.

Within the streets of the city, many folk milled about. What used to be a token military force and some Jedi now looked like a full section of Coruscant. The war brought so many refugees, the city could eventually no longer hold them all. Tents outside the walls had been set up as temporary housing, and at this moment, Levin Caelum stared out across the field of white tents. His eyes would turn away from the site as he walked down the gently sloping streets of Citadel. Folk of all races in all sorts of dress would stop and politely bow to Levin as he walked, each time he would stop to bow in return and they even bowed to his companion.

Kanika Shoshan had only been with Levin several months, but those seven months had been something special to the Jedi. A talented young Zabrak, and protege of his master's master. The green-eyed man never thought he would ever take on a learner, but when Shal had asked it of him, the Force whispered through his mind, and he knew that the young woman was simply meant to learn under him. She complimented her master greatly. And because of this, learned quickly.

Lev was proud of her.

He turned his gaze down to his Padawan as another massive roll of thunder sounded, the clouds above them continued to grow darker and darker. With his hands clasped behind his back, Levin's stride was brisk but casual. Lev took a deep breath, the air charged with the coming storm, it's smell damp and heady before he spoke.

"Kanika... do you understand why they bow? More importantly, why it is important to return one?"

[Reisier]

There was a time, Kanika only dreamt of seeing the Citadel.

Many years ago, when here life was still new and her eyes were bright with wonder, the white, ancient walls and tales that surrounded it were a beckoning call. It was a place of wonder – of impossible dreams and wondrous feats worthy of legend. A place that was not only rich in history, but where the legends and stories the Knights told came to life. The Jedi Order was no longer a thing of destiny, it was an honor bestowed only upon those that were deemed deserving; in the Citadel, honor and duty were one, indistinguishable being. With age and with experience, Kanika learned that her dreams of the Citadel were true and so much more. The duty and honor that was bestowed upon her when her time came to become a Padawan, only fostered her belief. Yet, age also brought clarity, an acceptance and a love for her duty, for the selflessness that being a Jedi brought.

The Citadel was no longer a place for dreams of fanciful flight, of stories told by Knights to eager younglings, it was a place that demanded and received respect. It was a place that, similar to the Jedi Temple, represented everything the Jedi stood for. While no longer the child that would wiggle in her seat at the notions of greatness that being a Jedi entitled, Kanika was unsure how to feel at the duties that had increased in a matter of moths – training that had once been reserved to the quiet solitude of the temple gardens, were now spent in actual experience. The Zabrak did not let her emotions run rampant, at least for the most part, and often looked for the security of Shal Umkur’s words, that had carried her through harder trials. Icy-pale hands fell from the comfort of her sleeves and unto her side, fingertips skidding past the abrasive fabric and unto the lightsabers to her sides. Despite the coldness that bit at her fingers and the weariness that became clearer over time, Kanika held unto her blades as if they were a preserver and she a drowning man.

A drained, beleaguered sigh crossed the woman’s lips, her body moving with a grace more akin to a phantom than a living creature. It was a voice that finally broke her quiet reverie, the feelings that had momentarily gripped her vanishing into the charged atmosphere. Her attention shifted, falling into the stoic male by her side, her constant companion and new Master, Levin Caellum. A small smile crossed the woman’s lips, her impossibly pale eyes shifting to the scene across from them.

He spoke and Kanika listened. Kanika listened carefully, a display she had previously reserved for Shal Umkur alone, each word weighed and processed with unusual care. For a minute, the padawan did not allow any other thought to intrude on her musings, hand cupped listlessly around her chin, finger pulling gently at her lip. She tested her options carefully, something she never had done before, bitten lips pursed tightly. It was with a heavy sigh that Kanika reached a decision, one that, she hoped, reflected all that she was taught. “It is a sign of respect—and gratitude.” She smiled a tired smile, pale gray eyes meeting the Jedi’s unwavering gaze; her severe stare boring into his own.

“We provide a duty to them – an honorable obligation that not many are given the privilege of being responsible for.”

It was strange for the female to see how much she had come to rely and respect the Master on such a short period of time. Honestly, it surprised her. When Kanika had often sought to do things on her own, finding comfort in that sense of control, now she sought the male’s advice. Granted, for a while she had been less keen to listen to the man that, until seven months ago, had been a perfect stranger to her.

“We are thankful for the opportunity to serve them.”

[Dutch]

Levin did not stop pace as Kanika pondered upon his question. That was perhaps his favorite trait about the young woman, her patience. Namely with herself. Ever thoughtful, the young Zabrak often seemed to ponder his words. It wasn't something he was entirely used to, but thanks to Aoife, it wasn't entirely foreign either. What he truly wasn't used to, was someone to talk to that didn't get excitable, hit on him, nor harass him. Nor push the boundaries of what you thought capable... He thought, something that the younger woman beside him did as well. In the past years, for near the first time of his life, Levin had a support structure of sorts. Friends as much as family, Jedi from across the galaxy had begun to come under his charge. Most of his life, apart from his own Master, Levin never sought out the company of others. But it seemed as darkness fell upon the galaxy, little lights of friendship were kindled within it.

He returned Kanika's gaze, and nearly smiled down at the girl as she responded. However, Levin was not known for smiling. Instead he watched her with unblinking eyes, and wondered what the future held for his Padawan. She was dutiful, and loyal to a fault. Not once had Lev ever thought the girl had it in her to give in to darkness, and as her pale gaze held his, he felt that he never would have to worry about that. It was a relief to the man in truth, with the state of the galaxy as of late, there were many matters that weighed down his mind, and guiding of a Padawan down the right path was no joking matter. But with Kanika, it was as if that entire worry was nonexistant. As if just naturally, she walked the path of Light serenely, and dutifully. Levin was honored to have a hand in crafting such a Jedi.

"Most important of all, Kanika: We are no different than them."

Lev responded with a slow nod to drive his point. Long had he dropped calling her by her full name, something Aoife had recommended to him long, long ago. People felt closer to another when just using their first or nick names, she had explained. Not when using their full name. He turned as they passed a vendor's stand, the woman by it held a piece of fruit out to Levin with a kind smile and a bow. He paused and took her hands in his to accept the fruit, and returned her bow with a words of thanks. The woman turned a kind smile to young Kanika next to him, and Lev could not stop the corner of his mouth that slightly lifted into what could be a smile. He bowed his head once more in farewell and began to walk back down the slight incline of the street. His hands peeled the skin off the fruit before it was torn in half, and offered to Kanika. Lev himself took a bite of the sweet and sour flesh, and chewed it slowly.

He gave Kanika some time to ponder that as they walked, the repetition of bowing and greeting citizens one that Levin was still only getting used to. There were Jedi everywhere within Citadel, and yet even then, the citizens who had flocked to Seraphim for safety still looked upon them in wonder. At least it wasn't fear like in many more rural parts of the galaxy. A reaction he struggled with comprehending, but often when reflected even upon his own actions, he understood it. It was unfortunate in many ways that the Jedi were seen in such mysterious ways. Once more he looked to Kanika, and from the look in her eyes to the way she carried herself, he could see why others would see Jedi in such a light. Levin placed the last bite of the fruit into his mouth as they walked, and savored that last bit for a while.

"Citadel has been... busy of late."

Levin said, the words sounded stupid even to him. One thing he was not used to, was constant companionship. Unless they were sleeping, or she had been sent off on some task, Kanika always seemed to hover near her Master. It made sense to the older Jedi, but clearly he still wasn't used to it after their months together. It was different with Aoife, an entirely different relationship altogether. For a moment he pondered on the differences, and it was only when he realized that Aoife wasn't really that much older than Kanika, that he decided to take his thoughts somewhere entirely different. He cleared his throat gently before he looked up at the ever darkening sky above, the storm clouds hung ever lower as the sun set to their left.

[Reisier]

It was strange to see how people reacted to the presence of Jedi in Citadel – it was so different. Outside the Citadel’s white walls, beyond the Jedi Temple, more than once she had been met by weary expressions. People were always friendly, always polite, but always anxious – it was in their voices, in the pulses of the Force around them, they were never at ease. Even in the Temple, the padawan had more than once met those who seemed rather uneasy in her presence, something she learned well as a youth, but whether it be by her isolation in the gardens or her appearance, she was yet to be sure. But here, in the Citadel, people were so warm, so inviting, so genuine; traits which she had only seen in a handful of people – in Javin, in Shal Umkur, and now, in Master Caelum.

They stopped walking before a vendor, with curious fruits of all shapes and colors. The scent, like the shop, was easily as varied, from crisp and fresh, to sour, and sweet. It was suddenly impossible for the padawan to mask her curiosity, pallid eyes dancing in wonder at the array. Kanika paid no heed as the Master and shopkeeper exchanged a small bow, or how the woman offered a fruit to the male. In fact, if curiosity hadn’t forced her eyes up to the red spheres that hung from the pole to her left, the Zabrak would not have noticed the woman looking at her. Kanika tittered, gaze low, head bent into a small bow. She held that simple display for a minute, a pleasant smile drawn across her tired face. Though, even if she would not bring herself to admit it, she could easily get used to this.

Kanika straightened up, the gesture ending as quickly as it had come, and instead she found herself doing what she had been doing for the past hour or so, following Master Caelum through the winding streets. It was as they walked that the man motioned his hands towards her, the fruit he had previously received now peeled and halved. She took her portion, a small thanks uttered under her breath as she continued to follow the man.

Kanika pressed the fruit against the brim of her nose, inhaling its bitter scent. It was oddly refreshing, even if it made her nose crinkle slightly and her eyes narrow down. She took a bite, just as hesitant as the bow, and quickly discovered how similar the taste and scent were. In fact, the only difference was the oddly sweet aftertaste that the fruit left in her tongue. She turned the fruit slightly, eyes studying the flesh, only partially aware of how she began to speak once more. “And yet, it is these differences that allow us to serve them, are they not?” She took another bite, carefully considering how to continue.

“We begin and end the same, in life and in death we are one,” She chose her words carefully, not yet sure how her unbending nature could affect the male, “…but the paths the Force forges are many and varied.” As far as she was concerned, even if they knew how it all begun and how it would all end, life itself was a perfect display of entropy. Yet, even as the words left her, she found no reprieve in her explanation. In fact, as the sharp staccato crossed her lips, she somehow felt the explanation felt somewhat lacking. It disappointed her somewhat, if only for a fleeting moment, before her attention shifted once more. When their bodies had moved seamlessly through the city, once more the padawan felt herself coming to a stop.

She glanced at her Master with curiosity, at how his attention shifted to the skies above. Kanika followed his gaze, but found nothing of interest beyond the roaring skies above. What he could find particularly interesting in the mass-less force was beyond her.

"Citadel has been... busy of late."

There was a certain fondness, Kanika noticed as the weeks folded into months, for the man to state the obvious at times. At first, the Zabrak had found the display a little vexing at times, especially when the said item sat clearly before her very eyes; but now, the trait had become endearing in a way. Just like Shal Umkur’s head into his chest as the ancient master lolled in and out of sleep, Master Levin’s statements always seemed to draw a placid chuckle from her lips. “And one can only assume it will only get, as you say, Master, busier.” She grimaced, but the playful lilt in her eyes became present with renewed vigor.

She breathed in the cool air, which sharply jabbed her lungs, “During times like these, Master Shal Umkur has said, people will hold unto the Jedi Order as we hold unto our faith in the Force.” With hope, with love, and, at times, with slight desperation.

[Dutch]

"Shal Umkur is a wise man. My own Master talked about him just as fondly as you do."

Levin said in response, his tenor voice smooth as the roll of thunder that followed his words. It was true, and always did vex him how the ancient, patient Shal was able to put up with the boundless energies of his own Master, Raeni Alvita. The Nautolan woman had been like an enthusiastic mother to the stoic Lev. It wasn't uncommon for other Jedi to joke with her how Levin was more like one of Shal's students than she ever was. Perhaps that was what led to the pair getting along so famously. Her words were true though, and it was obvious that the longer the war dragged on, the more clingy civilians seemed to be. Often Vreem Took had spoken with Levin about the importance of the Jedi presence in the war, that morale was just as effective a weapon as any ordinance. He had agreed, his own host of Jedi Healers he had brought to the Blades alone had nearly halved the amount of post-battle casualties. It was in these sessions that Levin had brought Kanika.

He could still remember her first day aboard the Healer flagship, High Charity, and how her initial hesitation at the sight had quickly turned to a resolute day of healing. Lev hadn't planned to introduce her to combat medicine in that way, but when a cruiser had called for aid after a bloody skirmish, there was no choice but to call any with healing skills to assist. And the young Zabrak had performed admirably. Side by side with Levin the entire time, the pair had worked eighteen hours without a break, and had saved countless lives. The memory from that day that would always be with him, was after that day. The pair had sat there on a bench, soaked from sweat and other fluids from hours and hours of work, panting and sharing a canteen of water. That was the first time he had called her simply 'Kanika' over her full name since he had taken her on. He wondered, as he stared at the cloudy skies, how many other days like that lay ahead of them.

Levin let his eyes fall from the sky, and looked down upon Kanika. Though Zabrak were considered pretty normal in humanoid standards, Kanika seemed to draw upon the more alien traits of her people. Even the way she moved was impossibly smooth and silent, yet he knew from sparring with the young woman, that she packed more than she seemed. Yet there was so much more to teach. Luckily it seemed that the girl was patient, and understood her place. Too often Padawans were hasty with their masters, and often led to some difficult times. But Kanika was something different than most of the stories he had heard. Lev dared to say her patience neared the levels of his own, as if the pair were simply kindred spirits. He was grateful that his first padawan was such a kindred spirit.

Once more he turned his green eyes up to the sky before he motioned for Kanika to follow. For a while, he said nothing, merely continued down towards the ground level of Citadel. More citizens greeted the pair, and the rate of thunder began to grow more and more, each crash louder than the rest. It was no accident that they were moving away from the shelter of the Jedi temple, there was training to be done. As Levin approached the great wall that stood around the base of the fortress, his eyes took in the sheer size of the entrance portal for a moment. The alabaster stone was cold to the touch, he noticed as a free hand rested on it gently. All at once the Force around him shifted, and a stream of emotions from the Jedi who carved the Citadel slowly channeled into him.

"Do you feel them? Our Ancestor's good will put in stone forever..."

His voice was barely a whisper, and once more a roll of thunder crashed and boomed above them. A memory blossomed in his mind, his own master once stood exactly as he did, long long ago. She had asked him that same question, and Levin was shocked to feel so much from merely touching an object. It reminded him of how eternal the Force was within everything, and how a simple act like carving could ripple out to affect Jedi generations later. He turned his eyes to see Kanika's reaction, a look of quiet contemplation upon his visage.

[Reisier]

As the wind blew in painful bursts against her face, Kanika could not help but note how oddly reminiscent the day was to the future of the Order – stark. It was an uncertain future, holding many mysteries and much sorrow. War, once a distant memory, a wretched dream, was upon them. In the blink of an eye, all they had known, all they had lived and learned, would be put to the test. The bonds they had shared, bonds she had formed and come to rely on, would be bent, twisted, and turned. The Zabrak, while still young, was neither blind nor dumb – she could see the severity of the situation. The High Charity was merely the first taste of what was still to come. And while it had cemented the bond between Master and Padawan, it also set the tempo for the future years that would come – she would fight, she would protect, and if the time called to it, she would lay down her life. The Zabrak’s muscles tensed, her throat becoming suddenly dry. Even if fighting and sacrificing one self for another was something she had come to accept in her trainings, the prospect was still terrifying.

Kanika was thankful as Master Caelum broke the silence, his voice nearly indistinguishable above the cracking of thunder above their heads. The Zabrak reacted instinctively to the man’s voice, her pale eyes locking unto his once more. They met each other’s stare without hesitation or doubt, another trait they oddly shared. When many felt challenged or uncomfortable under the Zabrak’s unforgiving gaze, Master Caelum seemed unaffected. In fact, in the many months she had spent under the Healer’s watchful gaze, it was always she that broke the connection first and not the other way around – it was oddly refreshing and gladly welcomed. The padawan shifted slightly as she cleared her throat – her robes fluttered briskly over the turbulent breeze, striking her body in an unsteady beat. She crossed her arms, fingers holding unto the abrasive fabric to keep it from its incessant tugging. “And Master Shal Umkur spoke fondly of she,” The Zabrak finally spoke, her light eyes finally flittering away from the male’s own and settling unto a couple of children that played close by. “…from my understanding, she was quite the energetic being.” A brilliant mind, Shal Umkur had been careful to emphasize, but energetic without a doubt – and an opposite to her current Master, Kanika would silently note. How that had come to be was beyond her.

Kanika peered at her companion in silent curiosity, her sharp eyes settling on his stern face and tightened jaw. It was not unusual for silence to fall between the Master and Padawan for prolonged periods of time, but it was neither the result of awkwardness nor distrust. In fact, those moments of silence were the once when Kanika felt she understood the male the most, feeling for that period as if she were, as they say, ‘a chip of the old block.’ Granted, this had not always been the case. Kanika chuckled gently as she thought back to the first couple of days she had found herself in the company of Levin Caelum – and how the constant silence had nearly driven her mad. More than once Kanika forced herself to shatter the silence with a pointless question or mindless observation for the mere sake of keeping her sanity intact.

But while this interaction, or lack of thereof, would have lasted much longer under normal circumstances, it was shattered once more by the older male. Again, like countless of times before, Master Caelum motioned for Kanika to follow and the female did without hesitation or doubt. But when multiple times before she was led into the vibrant city that was the Citadel, across the lively streets and towards curious vendors, this time Kanika found herself led towards a more remote, quiet area. Kanika’s eyes traveled across the area with unusual care, taking the few pieces of interest she could find – a boot abandoned in the tall grasses and a man that struggled with bags as he hurried home before the storm befell then. So engrossed was the padawan on the blades of green that snaked around the leather soles or how the woven bags were rough and abraded by the years of constant use, that she nearly missed how her master motioned to the pristine white walls.

‘Do you feel them?’ She heard the master speak and her eyes flicked to him, ‘Our Ancestors’ good will put in stone forever…’ She watched him with the same care she had placed in the boot, noticing how his arm extended towards the cold surface. Kanika failed to move at first, simply watching the display, before a small smile played across her lips. It was mostly curiosity that brought her close to the wall as well and which made her mirror her master’s stance. As fingers skidded past the white surface, surprise flitted across her features – the wall seemed unusually lively. The sensation was tiny, easily disregarded as nothing more than her imagination, it was insignificant -- a small pulsing that spread gently across her fingertips.

“A gentle whisper -- a mere breath -- but one that is eternally present.” The words left her as her pale gray eyes fluttered close, feeding off the warmth that played through the tip of her fingers. “It is incredible to feel those presences even as time has weathered the stone.”

[Dutch]

Levin almost smiled at the expression that flitted across Kanika's face at first. He remembered his master being disappointed that he had not reacted as she had upon first feeling the Force within the walls. Not that he hadn't been simply amazed by the sensation. Where many would openly show their wonder, he had thanked Raeni politely for the opportunity. Which she had teased him for saying. All Levin did in reaction was watch his Padawan. He nodded as she spoke, words far wiser than one her age would normally utter. Perhaps one of his favorite traits of hers.

"Such is the Force, Padawan." Lev would gaze up at the towering city of Citadel. "All our actions are lasting. Nothing is temporary. Which is why we as Jedi must think before we act."

He would glance sideways at Kanika for a brief moment before he turned around. Without another word Lev began to walk out away from the city. Thunder boomed, but he did not react. Without a doubt he knew Kanika would be right behind him. The grass beneath his feet brushed aside with each step, an unseen path being traced by him. A path he had walked many years ago, except last time he was in Kanika's palce. For untold minutes Levin walked silently, the only indicator of time being the darkening sky. As both night and the storm rolled in, Seraphim's light would give all an almost ethereal dark blue haze. Humid wind whipped at his coat and robes, but Levin did nothing to stop them from billowing. There was a specific place they were en route to, though to the unknowing it would seem a random path.

Thunder boomed, and the haze of the evening would begin to purple. Just like before. Levin finally arrived at the spot, his gaze turned to look at Citadel on the horizon. The fortress was still more than visible, but any sound made by it was lost on the wind. The valley they now stood was almost completely flat, the grass greener here than anywhere else they had walked. More like plush carpeting than flora, Lev knelt down to run a hand over the grass. It had been a long time since he had felt it, and a sigh stirred by memory sounded from the man. Once again thunder cracked from above, this time louder than the rest. It was time. Levin stood with his back turned to Kanika. A shrug lead his coat to fall from his arms which was then gathered and folded. He set it onto the only rock in the field near them, followed by his boots which were slid off one by one. The sleeves of his tunic ended at his elbows, and attached to his right arm was his lightsaber arm holster.

His stride would take him away from the rock, where a nod motioned for Kanika to follow suit. He watched and waited, his form not moving except for his steady breath. Once Kanika was prepared, a tug of the Force flipped Levin's silver lightsaber hilt into an awaiting palm. Lightning flashed. Thunder roared. And the silver beam of Levin's lightsaber ignited with a flourish. He took up a two handed Shii-Cho stance, his silver-rimmed eyes burrowing into Kanika's. Lightning flashed. Thunder roared. And the heavens finally opened to the downpour they had been promising all day. The first rain of the season. It fell heavy against the man, instantly soaking him and making steam rise regularly from his lightsaber. He stood motionless as the thunder boomed again. Levin waited, and waited until lightning would flash again, and with it he charged forward. Without any change of expression he lanced towards Kanika with an upward swing of his lightsaber followed by a mighty downswing.

The training would begin.

[Reisier]

She had heard no truer words in some time – the Jedi were always meant to be meticulous in each and every decision they took. The eyes of the Galaxy were always upon them and it was their duty to uphold every responsibility placed upon their shoulders. The Zabrak’s smile softened slightly, her icy fingers never parting from the white walls. She welcomed the reassuring feeling that these past presences brought, the warmth that their ancient whispers filled her with. It was the sound of footsteps that finally forced Kanika’s eyes open and a glance to the side that made her notice how her master had begun to walk. She remained motionless for a few seconds, her fingers wedged to the wall, and it was after a bemused smirk crossed her, that she pried herself away.

Kanika followed her master as she had done countless of times before, her steps sure and her head high, though clear curiosity marred her eyes. She was led away from the bustling city and through a meandering path that had sat in silence for a long time. Unlike the kempt gardens she had been exposed to for the last couple of months, this place was oddly reminiscent of the one she followed to reach Shal Umkur that very first time. The path watched on as the master and student traversed it, or so Kanika imagined, curious to see what the duo had prepared. They walked further into the forested area for minutes without end. Part of her wanted to open her mouth and utter a question, but she refrained; the answer would come with time, it always did. Thankfully, she did not have to wait much longer.

As they neared a clearing, Master Caelum’s pace slowed and the Zabrak mirrored it unconsciously. It was as the male kneeled into the ground that Kanika wandered across the clearing, boots sinking into the lush green grasses. Her steps were mostly noiseless, that is, if one were to ignore the gentle crunching under her boots, or the sound of her robes swaying against each other. She had to admit, in its simplicity this was quite the beautiful place. Kanika glanced back at her teacher in time to see how he took off his signature coat. The Zabrak shook her head, but couldn’t contain a smile – it had been quite some time since last they sparred. Considering how they had been focusing on the studies of the Force, the change of pace was quite welcomed.

Needing no further invitation, Kanika took off her outer robe as she followed Master Caelum, gathering the black fabric and folding it neatly to the side. Without the overtunic to protect her from the biting breeze, Kanika suddenly became painfully aware of how the temperature dropped or how the wind blew in powerful gusts. But it was soon forgotten – before long, all that mattered was the lesson that was about to unfold.

While her master remained as stoic as ever, motionless and patient, Kanika had begun to pace. The steps were slow and measured, eyes locked on the figure that stood across from her. Her movements dragged her from one side of the clearing to the other, silver eyes never shifting from the man. She knew better – even if he was a Healer, Master Caelum was a warrior through and through, capable of packing a bigger punch than one may give him credit for. Kanika grimaced slightly as the first lightning struck and she felt her bones quake under the deafening roar. At the moment, the line of Master and Padawan were becoming blurred, and instead they stood as combatants, as representatives of the warriors that were the Jedi. Teachings and lessons in battle were one and the same – defeat and victory bringing knowledge and proficiency for the future.

The sky had opened and the rain begun. It was no gentle waters that struck them first – no tender spray that lapped at their face, instead it was sharp, painful drops that struck and soaked anything in their path. In a matter of seconds, Kanika was drenched; the once comfortable clothes now became an annoying hindrance that clung to her arms and legs. The second thunderous roar made her muscles twitch and for her fingertips to reach to her dormant blades. Her jaw tightened, her eyes narrowed, but the movement continued – the same painfully slow pace. It was no wonder other younglings and Padawans had seen her as something more akin to a phantom than a faithful follower of the Force. When before Kanika had exhibited serenity and peace, now there was nothing more than quiet determination and fierceness. Even the way the lightning’s silver light stretched above their heads only managed to exaggerate the female’s otherworldly features and the change of her demeanor. Like the storm that now raged around them, Kanika’s eyes seemed untamed and restless.

Movement.

Reaction took over as the Padawan stepped back, body moving away from the first swing. Her hand shot-up, lightsaber in hand, only to meet Master Caelum’s second blade. The blow was as violent as the torrential rain – or perhaps even more so. Kanika’s knees buckled under the blow, but she remained undaunted before her master’s blade. If anything, the heat of the searing blades that hummed near her face seemed to encourage the Zabrak’s vigor. Seconds ticked as the weight of the lightsabers remained unchanged, every push was matched, every shift mirrored. Finally, Kanika pushed the blades apart, an audible grunt forced through her lips at the exertion. Freed from the blade, an open hand tugged the Force in its direction, and with it came the second blade. It hissed bitterly as it was ignited and left a trail of steam as it was swung to the side.

[Dutch]

Sparks showered from the colliding beams of plasma, only to be snuffed out seconds later by the rain. It stung any bare skin and made his clothes heavy and cumbersome. Levin's face showed no expression as he forced his silver blade downwards, barely holding back. When Kanika forced the weapons apart, he stepped back fluidly twice. His blade ticked sideways to swat away her second blade deftly. He slid his weight forward with the tip of his weapon suddenly jutting forward, mere inches from Kanika's head.

"Dead."

He said bluntly before retracting the blade. His steps whirled him backwards, a shower of water shimmering off his body, the light caught in the rain. Lev took up the starting stance again before he charged forward once more. He leaped high into the air to bring the weapon down in a strong two handed swing, intentionally going wide with the strike. Lev landed with surprising grace before he spun on his heel to bring his lightsaber sideways. At the last second he ticked it downwards to slide next to Kanika's hip.

"Dead."

Levin jumped back and lowered his weapon. Thunder roared up ahead, and the water in the field began to rise into the grass. Typical of Seraphim with its underwater reservoirs. The first rain always meant the first of the rising waters. He felt it's cool touch over the bottoms of his feet. With it came the memory of his first experience with the sensation. His master had trained him similarly with the lightsaber, not holding back one bit. He would spare Kanika the taunts and jeers Reini used though. All he needed to do was let the girl know where and when to block, or else. Lev's eyes burrowed into Kanika's, no expression. His right hand whirled the blade. Once. Twice.

Again Levin charged, this time lunging from left to right with wide strides. His lunge brought with it a flurry, ticking left to right. More sparks from colliding plasma, ignoring the feeling of them dissipating over his soaked skin. He did not let up the pressure, pushing Kanika back further and further, their feet splashing in the rising waters of Seraphim. Levin would suddenly tick back and forth rapidly, knocking both of Kanika's blades aside before his was brought down, mere centimeters from her nose.

"...Dead."

Levin deactivated his lightsaber and turned away. He walked several feet away. The master could feel his Padawan in the Force, aware of her feelings. Lev would stop and turn. Once more he took his lightsaber in both hands, the opening stance of Shii-Cho sliding into place. His silver blade ignited. Levin nodded to Kanika, he could already tell she was far from used to training under such heavy clothing. But that was the entire point, and the rainy season of Seraphim was one of the reasons Levin was able to carry himself so well. Years of training under its torrential storms, the Force carried on the very winds fueling the duelists. If they learned to draw upon Seraphims deep wells.

"Concentrate." He said as once more he charged in with his blade dragging low, the tip of it searing and boiling the water below. Already ankle deep, the splashing of his steps hissed against the bright beam of his lightsaber.

[Reisier]

Kanika’s movements were strained; when once the padawan’s movements would have flowed in a seamless motion, now they were slow and labored. Each swung of her blades came slower than usual, her steps were cumbersome by her standards, and when she had once been able to meet most of her master’s movements, now it seemed almost impossible for her to follow. But while some would have become discouraged by the master’s superiority, Kanika’s relentlessness seemed to be fueled by it. With every swing of the Master’s blade, the padawan answered in turn, a measured side-step or a carefully turned blade making most of her response. Granted, it was a reaction that not two movements later had been outmaneuvered by the older male.

A flash of silver – a trail of steam – the warmth of a lightsaber humming placidly by her face. At first, Kanika’s mind seemed unable to process the speed with which her master moved or how easily he had avoided her swing. In fact, it was not until the Zabrak heard Master Caelum’s voice that her momentum ceased. ‘Dead.’ The word echoed bitterly through her ears, dripping with the same inescapability that its definition held. Kanika narrowed her eyes – she swallowed a curse while a callous smile graced her lips. She had made a rudimentary mistake – she hadn’t followed her movement through. After her initial swing, she had given Master Caelum too much time to recover – too much time for him to regain his footing and easily take advantage of the gained space.

Kanika tensed as Master Caelum backed. She stood in silence, favoring her back leg, watching as mere seconds later her master sprung forward once more. This time, Kanika responded. The padawan moved swiftly, her boots clacking loudly against the saturated grasses, splashes of water following in their wake. She kept her sabers low as she dashed, building momentum before she swung her right arm up to meet her master’s blade. Silver eyes widened as her master’s blade was redirected with ease. Kanika twisted, her left arm raised in hopes of recovering, but the damage was done – ‘Dead.’

She was fast, persistent, and skilled, but nothing when facing the blade of a Master. Time and time again, her skills were proven insufficient, her mistakes marked by a single word, ‘Dead.’ It was vexing, to say the least. Kanika watched with exasperation as her master moved back once more, blades deactivated. The padawan breathed softly as she strained her back, the tireless onslaught of the showers continuing, setting the tempo to the lesson still. The third attack came much more violent, faster than those before.

She parried the quick attacks, backing again and again – always in the defensive. Kanika gritted her teeth painfully as she followed Master Caelum´s movements with difficulty, vaguely aware of the situation she had placed herself in. She could only respond, could only defend, and as she lifted both her lightsabers to protect herself from a blow she realized that she was allowing herself to fail once more. ‘Dead.’

Every movement was leading her into a slaughter, so to say. Master Caelum was making sure to feed her the necessary information to shade her – a desperate swing to grant him room, frontal attack that left blinded her from seeing a feint, an endless assault that tired her arms, it was all done to grant him the upperhand. The padawan couldn’t help but smile in quiet admiration as she straightened once more. The slack grip on her blades was tightened, her head high as she locked eyes with her master. She nodded her head once, taking a step back as she regained her composure, a bemused smirk on her lips. A warrior through and through, never the simple healer many could have assumed him to be.

She was pacing again as he granted them space once more – much needed room for her to device, it was time to adapt.

Her posture remained tense as ever – her shoulders a straight line and the muscles of her jaw taut. Kanika was vaguely aware of how her chest rose and fell in ragged breaths, or how her fingers fervently held unto her blades for support. Truth be told is that the padawan was even unaware of how she lifted her arm to her forehead at one point, senselessly wiping the rain from her brow. All Kanika remembers was her eyes boring into the male’s own, still restless from the realization she had found mere seconds before. It was as she finally moved, blades swung into a dual Makashi flourish that Kanika spoke, “As you wish.”

Movement.

Again, Master Caelum was the first to move, but instead of rushing to meet his blade, Kanika waited. She could hear the water sizzle as the lightsaber skimmed across the surface, her master’s movements with every step he took. She sidestepped, the upward swing barely missing her. She twisted, blade swung to the side. The blades met – white sparks danced. Kanika turned her hand – Master Caelum’s blade was forced down. She turned, following with a backswing.

[Dutch]

Levin's blade squealed and sparked as it met Kanika's. A quiet pride rose in him as she turned his blade away with a nimble motion. He did not expect the sudden response attack, as the girl had been playing the defensive the whole time. His eyes widened slightly and he spun away as the blue lightsaber spat- signifying a hit. The strike felt cold- typical of a lightsaber. Most people saw the weapon, and expected a heat to emanate from the blade. That was a fallacy though. Pure energy that severed nerve endings as it cute, cauterizing perfectly as well. The whole reason they used the lightsaber- painless, clean. Levin spun on his heel to get away from Kanika. He took up a Makashi stance with his lightsaber pointed forward, directly at her. Across his left cheek a blackened line steamed in the cool rain, a few inches in length, with a bit of bone showing underneath. Had Levin not been so experienced, he would have been killed.

"Good. A clean death."

His breath would be drawn in, the Jedi's presence latching onto a current of the Force as it wafted through them. It instantly shifted and pooled into Levin in droves. His aura would glow slightly, and he would inhale slowly. Flesh would weave back together where Kanika had sliced. Once there had been a mark that would have scarred, now was molded back to normality. The rain quickly washed away the soot left from the lightsaber, leaving no trace of the wound at all. Levin lowered his lightsaber, and looked up at the stormy sky above. The rain stung his face, a welcome sensation the the light fatigue that made his muscles ache. He knew Kanika would be much worse off, but it was good for her. Without looking down at her, he spoke.

"Kanika. Why is it a Healer needs to be as learned, if not more, in the lightsaber as any other Jedi?"

Without waiting for an answer Levin would suddenly lunge forward. A two handed grasp signifying Shii-Cho, an attack sent sideways before a twist of the wrist lead to a low sweep sent at her legs. He rolled away from any counter-attacks, wary of Kanika's second blade. Her style would serve her well in the future, a future Levin feared greatly for his young learner. A future he would do anything to prepare the girl for. Lev leaped high to bring his lightsaber down in a two-handed grip, but at the last second tilted his shoulders and took the weapon into one hand. The blade would begin to lance out rapidly, one of his hands tucked behind his back as he nimbly dodged any return attacks- classic Makashi. Anytime a stab from his lightsaber would be fatal, his wrist would rotate at the last second to instead miss. Occasionally his blade would hiss as it poked through the loose, soaked cloth of her sleeves.

He could feel her exhaustion, and used the Force to push himself away from the Padawan. His lightsaber would be deactivated and slid back into the arm holster. Levin nodded his approval to Kanika and approached, his stance relaxed. His hand would rise as the Force was channeled through it, a scant barrier in the Force shielding from the rain. Levin stood next to Kanika, giving his learner a reprieve from the rain as well. His free hand rested on the girl's shoulder, and he began to steer her towards the rock where their things lay.

"Come, one does not train in the rainfalls of Seraphim with ease. We will recess for a moment."

[Reisier]

For a moment, Kanika hesitated. For a second, Kanika felt a cold dread fill her and sweep away any warmth the rains had left untouched. She remained frozen, her eyes locked unto the single black line that crossed the man’s face. In width, it was smaller than the width of her own blade, signifying a simple brush rather than an actual hit. The hilt of her blades slacked under her icy-white fingers and for a second, she kept herself from dropping them altogether. Kanika thought about talking, about apologizing, about asking if he was fine, but before the padawan could voice the thoughts that ran through her head, she stopped. In a moment’s notice, the wound that had crossed the male’s face in a garish black line, was mended -- erased by the rain’s spray, and washed away as if it had never existed.

The moment of worry for her master’s well-being was short lived, soon replaced by a wave of surprise. The padawan gritted her teeth with the sudden movement, bewildered at how fiercely the man resumed his attacks. Kanika’s body reacted much faster than her mind would allow, jerking back and away from the low sweep. The next sequence of events came to her as a result of her training under Master Shal Umkur -- and for which she was considerably grateful -- her front arm holding up her saber defensively, while the other was raised into the offensive. The application of her dual wield Makashi was left than perfect and would require many years more before the padawan found herself grasping the concept in its entirety. However, from what she had seen in previous spars against other padawan -- and the hit she had landed on Master Caelum just moments ago -- ensured its effectiveness. At the very least, Kanika grimaced, it was a surprising factor.

Kanika’s right side of her body tensed as the blades connected, her muscles shaking in contempt at the exertion she was putting them in. The muscles on her face, however, remained as tight as ever -- her lips a tight line and her eyes a penetrating gaze. “Kanika.” The name caused her attention to shift slightly, from the locked blades and to the jagged shadows and bright lights that were her master’s face. “Why is it a Healer needs to be as learned, if not more, in the lightsaber as any other Jedi?” Her resolve faltered at the question, her muscles seized. The Jedi Master’s blade came forward and Kanika barely had enough time to jump back and out of harm’s reach.

The padawan stood perplexed, confused even, at the question Master Caelum had voiced -- and it was only at that moment that the apprentice figured that she honestly did not know. Not once in her life had she stopped to ponder on that simple question -- why did the Jedi Healers learn the way of the saber with equal fervor as those of other branches? Easily, she could have dismissed the question with a simple answer -- a reference to the fact that they all began under the same watchful eyes, but something told her that this was not what the man was looking to hear. Kanika breathed out softly, brow wrinkled at the question, but her voice came as steady as ever. “Because it is our duty...”

While her Master’s blows continued to cut through her defenses -- more than once this being marked by the sizzling of her robes and the scorched tear it left in its wake -- the two blades seemed to be a greater asset. It seemed to Kanika, at the very least, that her movements came more naturally. She parried her Master’s precise cuts with some difficulty, but she remained undeterred. When his silver blade was pushed away, Kanika would spring, her first blade still locked with his, her second humming through the air intent of finding its target. Once or twice, Kanika would see her second saber rushing besides Master Caelum’s side, but never did it connect. “...it is our promise...”

“...to mend.” She grunted after a particularly strong blow, “Not to maim.” She pushed the blades apart, rushed forward, one blade attacking, the other making up for any opening that might have gone unnoticed. For the most part it seemed to work, save for the nice little gash that made the padawan decide to get a new outertunic whenever time permitted it. She ground her teeth together as she struggled to form the words, her mind torn between avoiding her Master’s blade, defending, attacking, and stringing a coherent argument all at once. She swung her blades diagonally, the balestra of her footwork a seamless, two-stepped motion. “To protect, not to destroy.”

The distance between Master and student suddenly doubled with the use of a Force push, and Kanika stood, blades to her side, trying to steady her breath. “As healers of the Order, we must try to overpower the opponent while producing minimal damage to them.” At the very least, it made sense to her. Her lungs gulped down air hungrily, burning at the exertion they had been placed under for the last couple of minutes. As Master Caelum deactivated his blade, she followed the motion, returning her blades into their respective holsters.

It did not take long for the female’s posture to ease into a more relaxed one, her arms folded easily across her stomach. She allowed herself to be led as Master Caelum placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder, moving to the rocks they had left their items on. “I can see why that is the case.” Kanika began with a tired smile, wiping the water from her brow. “It truly berates the body -- even if it refreshes the spirit.”