Meditation

[Makiro]

((It often produces the best results XD))

Makiro met the other boy's look of curiosity with a cold stare of defiance, showing the Padawan that his status did not elevate him above the younglings. Glancing up at Sihara, her own gaze focussed on the green Twi'lek Jedi, their lekku dancing ever so slightly in response to one another, he realised how childish he was being. Taking a small breath, he looked back at the blonde Padawan and shrugged, an apologetic smile twitching at his mouth; he was just as clueless as the younger Jedi.

Mimicking Sihara's bow, Makiro followed the Togruta Jedi through the rest of the Great Hall, silently admonishing himself for his own folly. So what if the other boy had been promoted to Padawan - that did not make him any less of an amiable person than Makiro. In fact quite the opposite was likely true. Catching his name on Sihara's voice, Makiro tuned his ears to her frequency and listened as she spoke, a surprisingly potent surge of hope flooding through him at her words. She had implied that the two would be working together in the future. Surely she couldn't mean...? Makiro scoffed at his own thoughts. After all, after such a blatant betrayal of his emotions, how could she ever even consider... it didn't bear thinking about. Even so, the newly rekindled hope in Makiro's heart did not fade as they continued to walk.

Looking up at the Togruta, Makiro inclined his head in apology.

I am sorry, Master Sihara, I will try harder in future.

It was all he could do to keep his voice from trembling with fear, excitement, frustration.

As they stopped before the turbolifts to the upper levels of the Temple, their ornate bronzium doors glinting in the afternoon sun, Makiro gritted his teeth resolutely, knowing - through some whim of the Force - that a major fork in the road of his fate was approaching.

Makiro...before we continue, I need to ask you a very important question, and I need you to seriously think about your answer before you give me one, alright?

Makiro felt the comfort of Sihara's hands on his shoulders as he thought on her words, desperately fighting to keep his emotions in check. He looked deep into the Jedi's honeyed eyes, knowing immediately what it was she wanted to ask him.

Yes, Master Sihara. I shall take great care indeed. His brow furrowed as he spoke, for in reality, he knew already what answer he would give.

[Talau the Ever-Lurking]

Sihara smiled, a little chuckle escaping her as she watched the boy struggle with his emotions and formulate his reply. It was already clear that he'd caught on, and it was also clear that he already had his answer. She hadn't really expected any less from him. The boy was clever and didn't miss many subtleties...he would be a good....no, an excellent padawan. But would she be a good enough teacher for him? She sighed slightly, hoping she would be.

You already know my question, don't you? Well, Makiro, I believe I already know your answer, but I'll just have to make certain.

She gave the dark haired boy a kind smile, flashing those fang-like incisors as she did so, her greyish lips curving upward.

Makiro, you know I've been asked by the Order to take on a padawan. You also know how I feel about their request and why. I know that it's coming up on your 13th birthday and that you're worried because you don't have a master. In light of meeting you...a good many things have started to change in my way of thinking, especially concerning taking on another padawan.

She paused for a moment, thinking on what else she wished to convey. There was so much for her to say, but only a few things were relevant at the moment.

You also should remember that soon I'll be leaving with a partner, another knight, to go hunt a dark jedi and the woman he rescued. It will not be easy, and it will most certainly turn out to be dangerous along the way. Because of this, and the nature of the man we're hunting, I'm...hesitant...to ask you to be my padawan because of the stage your training is at, and the danger you will be in because of it and the very essence of this mission. However...

A flick of one of her lekku, a slight shifting of her weight as she balanced herself into a crouching position rather than a kneeling one, the light jingle of the metal and shells of her headdress. The sounds in the hallway were dimmed to a soft background noise despite the fact that the waining of the day was bringing more and more jedi in for the evening from their respective duties and meditations from their observation of Ossus Day. It was fitting, in a way, that she was asking this young man to be her padawan on a day of remembrance for those who had lost their lives in duty. Her former padawan had been one among them, young as he'd been, and she wondered if somewhere he wasn't pulling a string or two in the force to guide her to this ending on this day.

It certainly hadn't been her planning.

...However, I find that....if I don't, I'll end up regretting my decision.

With that said, Makiro, I see great potential in you to become a good jedi and I'm hoping that you will agree to take me as your Master.

[Makiro]

Makiro's heart skipped a beat as the words left Sihara's mouth, and for a few moments he just looked into her amber eyes, his own brown eyes sparkling with wonder.

It wasn't as if he hadn't been anticipating the request; by the Force, he had practically known it was coming. That still did nothing to lessen the joy that coursed through his being as the Togruta Jedi offered him his final chance to live life as a Jedi. A life he now realised he had been destined for all along. Thinking back on the many missed opportunites and chances at apprenticeship, he remembered how he had once resented the subtle shifts in the Force that had wrenched the title of Padawan further and further from his grasping clutches. Now, however, he understood that each mistake, each rejection, each failure to fulfill the subtle and complex demands of an endless tirade of prospective masters, had been leading to this moment. Since before his birth - and perhaps before even those of the oldest of the Temple's Masters - the Force had been pushing and pulling the strings of fate until the two Jedi - one a skinny, dark-haired human, the other a tall, rust-skinned Togruta - faced one another, their destinies becoming irrevocably and inextricably intertwined, just as the Force had always decreed it to be so.

Remembering suddenly that he had yet to answer her question, Makiro beamed wholeheartedly at Sihara, an overwhelming sea of relief, nerves and elation threatening to sweep him off his feet. Letting out the breath he realised he had been holding onto for what seemed like an eternity, he nodded.

There is nothing in this Galaxy I could desire more.

[Talau the Ever-Lurking]

Sihara beamed back at the boy and sighed, ruffling his hair a bit with one hand.

Good. I'm glad to hear it Makiro. Now, let's get up to the council chambers...It won't do to have this remain unofficial.

She stated simply, her smile returning as she stood and pressed the button for the turbo-lift. It didn't take long for the lift to return to the bottom, the soft wooshing sound reaching their ears only moments before they would hear the quiet chime indicating that the lift had reached the bottom of the shoot as the doors slid open. Stepping inside, she waited for Makiro to follow before allowing the doors to slide shut once again.

A slight lurch of motion and the capsule-like lift shot towards it's destination at the top of the spire. The journey was fairly short considering the speed of the vessel, and Sihara simply kept her peace, golden eyes vanishing behind her lids every so often as she would blink. Only once the lift slowed yet again did she make any motion. Giving the boy a reassuring look, she faced forward once again as the doors slid open with a soft hiss. Only few of the masters were not seated about the circle, as they had gone to tend to other duties about the temple, but the faces that met them were still a majority, creating a rather intimidating conglomeration of beings. Reaching the center of the room, Sihara brought her hands before her and bowed deeply to the Council as a whole, and waited for them to acknowledge their presence before speaking.

[Dire Wolf]

Jedi Master Rhissai'arckan sat on her opulent seat with her eyes closed as she listened to the proceedings of the day. The rather arrogant defense minister came in, saying that she was leaving for some rather strange business. The Aphithiri had considered gently creeping into her mind and figuring out just what was going on behind those eyes of hers, but decided against it. While she had gotten rather good at skulking past mental barriers and gleaning the information that she needed, it was rather intrusive. She preferred to simply ask... and if she didn't get the information that way the Jedi Master generally left it at that.

That was the only real notable process of her day, other than a few knights taking apprentices and padawans being knighted. Make no mistake: all of it was important, no, imperative to the survival of the Order, but she had seen the same process so many times over that honestly it had lost its luster. The woman wanted to do one thing and one thing alone: Search for her friend. Remiel had been missing for a few months by then and she was growing worried. Rhissai doubted that he was dead, quite the contrary... she had seen holotapes of him inside of a Republic Prison, and talked to the Jedi that he fought off without using his lightsaber.

She needed to find out what was going on, but she could not. Not yet anyway.

The soft swoosh of the turbo lift doors caught Rhiss' rapt attention. It was a Togruta woman, the same one that was tasked with hunting the the Dark Jedi that broke that Major out of prison, and a human child. Rhissai's eyes closed together tighter as she tried to remember the woman's name. Ahh! Sihara Horula... that was it. The woman promptly opened her eyes and set her bright green gaze on Sihara.

"Is there something you needed, Knight Horula?"

[Makiro]

As the turbolift shot vertically through the great spaces of the Temple, Makiro's mind spun wildly. He almost couldn't believe that Sihara had really asked him to be her Padawan; surely it was a dream from which he must soon wake, only to face a future in the AgriCorps. But no, it was real. His heart told him that. Glancing up at Sihara, he looked upon her motherly face and smiled.

When the lift reached the top of the Council Spire - after an almost impossibly short journey - the doors slid open and Makiro followed Sihara through a series of doors and out into the Council Chamber itself. Looking around the room, Makiro stared in awe at each of the Council members in turn. This was the first time he had entered the Council Chambers - that he could remember at least - and although he was used to seeing the Masters of the Council wandering the Temple corridors from time to time, he was not accustomed to seeing them gathered in one place. Their collective power and wisdom an almost tangible force that permeated the room.

As Council Member Rhissai'arckan spoke, her voice filling the large circular room, a chill went up Makiro's spine. He knew he was about to experience something that all Jedi had been experiencing since the beginning of the Order. He was about to experience history. He was about to become part of history.

[Talau the Ever-Lurking]

Smiling at the woman who addressed her, she put a hand on Makiro's shoulder lightly. The boy seemed positively thrilled and enraptured by the proceedings, not that she blamed him, but it made her chuckle. Turning golden green eyes to Rhissai, she formulated her response swiftly.

Master Rhissai, Council masters...you called me back to the temple nearly a month ago to take on a new padawan. I believe I have found him. I've spoken to Makiro about it, and also my current mission with Knight Lykaios. He understands the dangers and is still willing to have me as his master.

She paused, thinking on if there was anything else that she might need to relate to them about the situation. The togruta woman couldn't think of anything, but that didn't mean that she wasn't missing something. Either way, she moved on.

With that said, I would like to accept Makiro Variyas as my padawan with the permission of the Council.

[Dire Wolf]

A small but warm smile contorted the well defined facial features of Rhissai’s face as Sihara spoke. The Knight who stood before her looked to be the same age as the Master who sat on her council seat, but this was not true. Yes, Rhissai looked young, and yes she was most certainly young for her race, but she most certainly not young. The average Aphithiri lived to be about one hundred and fifty, the rare force sensitives tended to live nearly two hundred years. Rhissai was sixty.

Instead of responding to the Togruta woman in the physical sense, Rhiss simply closed her emerald green eyes and delved into the Force. After a few moments of searching she opened her eyes, seeming to find her answer, and spoke. But not to Sihara, she spoke to Makiro.

“Initiate Variyas, I know that you are aware that Knight Horula has been tasked with capturing the Dark Jedi Praetor, this said… are you absolutely certain that you wish to become her padawan?”

Rhissai knew that the boy would say “yes,” but she wanted to be sure that the boy was completely certain about joining Sihara and Theron in their task and didn’t say yes because of the spur of the moment. Their mission was a perilous one.

[Makiro]

Makiro's heartbeat quickened as he head his name spoken by the Council Member. For a few moments, he considered the question, and his answer.

I want more than anything to be Sihara's Padawan. There is nothing that could stop that.

Makiro spoke boldly, looking Master Rhissai directly in the eyes. After a few seconds, he looked down at the floor, almost ashamed that he had been so brash whilst addressing a member of the Jedi High Council.

With all due respect, of course.

He mumbled, his gaze fixed firmly on his booted feet.

[Talau the Ever-Lurking]

((ack! I hate not having anything to say!))

Sihara listened passively as Master Rhiss addressed Makiro, her green eyes searching him for his answer. As Makiro replied to the master, already his fiery spirit was showing. His further action of turning his eyes to the floor and his second statement actually elicited a chuckle from the togruta woman. Patting the boy lightly on the shoulder to reassure him, she waited patiently for Rhiss' reply.

[Dire Wolf]

((wow... totally forgot about this until ^ reminded me. My sorry v_v))

Rhiss gave a warm smile and a curt nod at the boy's boldness. In fact, there was little that could stop him from being her padawan... honestly appearing before the council to ask permission was not needed, but much appreciated by that particular Jedi Master. She understood why, and it was alright.

"Knight Horula, Initiate Variyas is now your padawan, and she is your master, Initiate Variyas. Or should I say, Padawan Variyas?"

The woman gave a wolf-like like smirk at her little joke in an attempt to prove that she wouldn't bite Makiro's head off.

[Makiro]

As the emerald-eyed Jedi Master spoke, Makiro's heart filled with a turmoil of emotions. Relief, joy, apprehension; all fought for control of his being as the knowledge of his fate dawned upon him. Slowly, ever so slowly, a wide smile spread across his face, lighting it up like a Republic Day fireworks display. Allowing a few moments for reality to sink in, Makiro looked first at Sihara and then at Master Rhiss.

Thank you, Master Rhiss. This is a great honour.

Looking back at Sihara, Makiro beamed at her, his eyes twinkling with delight.

Thank you too, Master Sihara.

He said, the feeling of being able to use the title 'Master' in its proper manner, rather than as a simple honourific, almost too much for him to bear.

[Talau the Ever-Lurking]

Sihara beamed at the Master and bowed deeply before resting a hand on Makiro's shoulder once more. Smiling down at him as well, she patted him with that rust colored hand to tell him that he needn't thank her. With that, she turned from the council chambers and back toward the lift. She was silent until they were ensconced in the lift and on their way down. Finally she looked down at the boy and smiled again.

Makiro...I told you that I would help you get a master. I just didn't realize at the time that it was me. Let's get you that padawan braid. We have a lot to do before Theron and ourselves leave tomorrow.

As the lift came to a smooth stop at the bottom of it's track, Sihara stepped out with a new purpose. No longer did she...they...have time to dally. The sun was beginning to lower over the cityscape of Coruscant. She followed the oddly familiar path to the small room where they would cut the hair of the new padawans, leaving the small bit of hair to braid and wrap. She watched the process quietly, waiting for the short while it took, before leading the boy out again into the temple halls.

We will both be given a new rooms next to each other, but until then, you must gather your things into a pack. Tonight you will stay in my room.

She continued down the halls to the dorms of the younglings until she finally came to the Hawkbat's dorm.

I will wait here Makiro. Go and gather your items, and return when you are done.

With that, she found herself a seat on one of the benches that dotted the halls.

[Makiro]

Makiro didn't speak a word as the lift shot downwards through the Temple, choosing instead to listen to his new Master speaking and to smile broadly to himself.
Stepping out of the lift, Makiro followed dutifully behind Sihara, watching as her brown cloak brushed the marbled floor and fluttered in the cool breeze that permeated the Temple corridor. He was still finding it incredibly difficult to believe that he had been clutched from the jaws of a life in the AgriCorps, and plunged headfirst into a new life as a Jedi Padawan, but he wasn't about to allow his disbelief to hinder his progress. No. He was going to pursue his new role with courage, and with tenacity, and he was not going to let anyone or anything tell him otherwise.

Presently, the two Jedi came to the door of the room inside of which Makiro's hair would be shaved into the traditional Padawan style. Taking a deep breath, he stepped through the doors and announced his presence to the elderly Jedi Master within.

Greetings, Padawan. I trust you are here so that we may start your Padawan braid?

Makiro nodded, feeling a lump forming in his throat.

Jolly good, young man. Please come and sit over here. The elderly Twi'lek raised a bony blue hand and indicated a comfortable looking chair in front of him. Light streamed through the room's high windows and bathed the chair in a warm golden glow; the glow of a bright new future.

*******

It took the best part of half an hour to shave Makiro's hair to the appropriate length, leaving just one thin, dark lock that hung just past his right ear. Around the base of the chair, a sea of curly brown hairs clustered around Makiro's feet like jagged rocks on some forlorn coast.

It was then simple process to braid the remaining lock of hair and tie the end with a small piece of blue ribbon. Behind him, Makiro could feel Sihara watching attentively, and as he slipped off the chair, taking care not to upset the pile of discarded hair, he turned to her and smiled, quite solemnly. From behind, the elderly Twi'lek clapped a hand on Makiro's shoulder and beamed at the two other Jedi.

Congratulations, Padawan, on finding such a talented Master. And congratulations, Sihara, on finding such a handsome young Padawan!

Makiro felt his face flush red as he thanked the Twi'lek for his work and hurried out of the room after his new master.

Before long, the pair had arrived at the door to the Flying Hawkbat's dormitory. At Sihara's instruction, Makiro opened the small door and entered the room. Inside, all was a bright mess of confusion and noise. A small group of tiny younglings raced around the room, playing at Jedi and Sith. An older Weequay youngling - perhaps only a year or so younger than Makiro himself - sat on a bed, a holobook clasped in his hand and an empty glass hovering just next to his left ear. Makiro took a deep breath as he clambered over piles of discarded clothing and abandoned holobooks towards his own bed; he was certainly going to miss the Hawkbats.

Gathering his few meagre possessions - his three sets of spare robes, a set of well read holobooks, a painted wooden figure of a Nabooan Gualaar - into a bag, he took one last, nostalgic look around the room and made his way back towards the door.

Oi, Kiro! Where do you think you're going?

Makiro spun around to see a gathering of his fellow younglings - or not, as he reminded himself - clustered behind him. He opened his mouth to explain, but Grey Taan, now the oldest youngling in the Temple, cut him off, a frown darkening his furrowed face.

Yeah, we know, mate. You've found yourself a master, and now I'm left by meself, looking like a bit of a granite slug.

The Weequay's face lit up with a wide grin.

Nah, I'm only jokin'. You look after yerself, yeah, mate?

Makiro nodded and smiled, holding out a hand to shake. Grey looked at the hand disdainfully and then pulled Makiro into a warm embrace.

We'll miss you, Kiro.

*******

By the time Makiro had managed to say goodbye to each of the Hawkbats in turn - some more than once - he felt as if he would never be able to leave any of them. Suddenly he felt too young to be a Padawan, too inexperienced. He wanted to cry. Putting his bag down on the floor, he turned back to the dorm and looked sorrowfully at all he was leaving behind.

From his right arm he suddenly felt a slight tugging on his sleeve and looked down to see Yulta Wurz, the youngest of the Hawkbats, standing at his side, holding out Makiro's training sabre. Makiro took the sabre and smiled broadly at the young Twi'lek, feeling suddenly better. Yes, he felt young, yes he felt inexperienced, but by the Force did he feel ready.

Thanking Yulta, Makiro turned back to the door, picked up his bags and stepped out into the golden glow and light breeze of the hallway beyond, training sabre clipped to his belt and a look of grim determination fixed to his face.