Post by Symm on Feb 27, 2020 2:09:56 GMT -5
In one of the many training fields of the Jedi Temple, padawans flowed from stance to stance. Commands dictating which form to take occasionally punctuated the gentle hum of their training blades. The result of these commands was almost hypnotic in execution, a field of youths acting in near-perfect synchronicity. On occasion, a student would fall out of order, but they were quick to catch up to their peers - nobody wanted to be left behind. It was a sight not afforded to many, the ways of the Jedi obscured behind the thick walls of their headquarters on Coruscant.
Kathar stood off the field, in a covered walkway that embraced the training grounds. He leaned against one of the many pillars that supported the floor above, eyes moving from padawan to padawan, assessing their form. It was like taking a trip down memory lane - the monotonous drills designed to test patience, endurance, and adherence to strict instruction. He could pick out the students that had difficulties with such training - for he had been one himself. So too he could pick out the exceptional, those with an evident talent for blade work. Eventually, Kather had become one of those, once they catered to his particular abilities.
The instructor called a halt to the lesson, and Kathar watched as the students each went through personal rituals to end the training. Some collapsed, finally allowing exhaustion to take its toll, others laughed, shrugging off the exercise as if it were nothing - a keen eye showed these were merely better at hiding their weariness. Most gathered up with their friends to talk excitedly, to poke fun or congratulate, depending on how their friendship worked. There were the loners, of course, those who would soon learn - either the easy way or not - that they cannot get through their training alone.
Kathar straightened, removing his weight from the pillar, as students streamed past. He nodded to those that noticed him and offered advice to those that asked. It was easy enough - blade work was one of his specialities, after all. The Knight found it satisfying enough when the students smiled and thanked him; he understood why others took on the burden of training a padawan. Kathar had yet to take on a student; not precisely a rarity as his age, but something he wished to rectify soon.
Once the field was clear of students, Kathar turned away the walked within the halls of the temple. He passed other Jedi, offering nods or light bows as rank dictated. His eyes caught on a Temple Guard making their rounds, hidden behind their mask. Perhaps he too would become one of the anonymous few, those entrusted with the defence of the Order, their younglings, their artifacts. Kathar still felt he had much to learn before he could join their vaunted ranks; in fact, the destination he strode the corridor towards was yet another rung on that ladder.
His route ended at a doorway, and Kather took a moment to compose his thoughts. The Battle Master was a formidable Jedi - so Kathar approached this meeting much like he would a duel. He cleared his mind and took a deep breath, then reached up to knock on the frame, asking, "Master Vyshaan, a moment of your time?" Of course, this wasn't entirely out of the blue - Kathar had requested a meeting with the Jedi Master.
Kathar stood off the field, in a covered walkway that embraced the training grounds. He leaned against one of the many pillars that supported the floor above, eyes moving from padawan to padawan, assessing their form. It was like taking a trip down memory lane - the monotonous drills designed to test patience, endurance, and adherence to strict instruction. He could pick out the students that had difficulties with such training - for he had been one himself. So too he could pick out the exceptional, those with an evident talent for blade work. Eventually, Kather had become one of those, once they catered to his particular abilities.
The instructor called a halt to the lesson, and Kathar watched as the students each went through personal rituals to end the training. Some collapsed, finally allowing exhaustion to take its toll, others laughed, shrugging off the exercise as if it were nothing - a keen eye showed these were merely better at hiding their weariness. Most gathered up with their friends to talk excitedly, to poke fun or congratulate, depending on how their friendship worked. There were the loners, of course, those who would soon learn - either the easy way or not - that they cannot get through their training alone.
Kathar straightened, removing his weight from the pillar, as students streamed past. He nodded to those that noticed him and offered advice to those that asked. It was easy enough - blade work was one of his specialities, after all. The Knight found it satisfying enough when the students smiled and thanked him; he understood why others took on the burden of training a padawan. Kathar had yet to take on a student; not precisely a rarity as his age, but something he wished to rectify soon.
Once the field was clear of students, Kathar turned away the walked within the halls of the temple. He passed other Jedi, offering nods or light bows as rank dictated. His eyes caught on a Temple Guard making their rounds, hidden behind their mask. Perhaps he too would become one of the anonymous few, those entrusted with the defence of the Order, their younglings, their artifacts. Kathar still felt he had much to learn before he could join their vaunted ranks; in fact, the destination he strode the corridor towards was yet another rung on that ladder.
His route ended at a doorway, and Kather took a moment to compose his thoughts. The Battle Master was a formidable Jedi - so Kathar approached this meeting much like he would a duel. He cleared his mind and took a deep breath, then reached up to knock on the frame, asking, "Master Vyshaan, a moment of your time?" Of course, this wasn't entirely out of the blue - Kathar had requested a meeting with the Jedi Master.
