Wheel in the Sky

[Dutch]

{Sorry if it's a bit short, squeezed out what I could XD}

Coruscant normally kept a fair temperature, never quite too hot, never too cold. Today however, wasn't one of those normal days. The sun hung high over head, marking mid day, sending its unrelenting waves of heat down on the planet. But that didn't stop Levin Caelum. Standing out in one of the courtyards of the Temple, he stood stoic still, his bare torso glistening with sweat as did his face. A pair of tan cloth training pants were all he wore this day, forgoing his boots for the feel of grass on his feet. In his right hand was clasped his unique uniform lightsaber- no clear identifying marks on it, a single smooth, cylindrical piece.

Its silver blade was at the lightsaber's normal shoto-length, the blade humming with the insects in the courtyard. With a quick movement he spun, whirling the blade one handed around his body, the Jedi's form masked by the weapon's silvery sheen of the rapidly spinning and whirling weapon. His movements suddenly stopped, Lev poised in what would have been a dismembering blow. He breathed heavily, the very air difficult to breath from the heat. With a deep breath, Levin continued his practice, the lightsaber once more humming loudly as it encased him in a rapid whirlwind of silver.

[Kella]

Ziiiv, hiiiss!

The strikes were clean and simple, like the Jedi. A heartbeat pounded beneath the chaotic rhythm, one, two, four beats. The Jedi was wild, wild like the waterfalls, wild like the ocean, wild like the thunderstorm, for the Force was in all things, as it was within her.

Muscles rippled and tensed underneath dense, dark fur, as the Jedi continued through the motions. In the patterns, her heart quieted, and the Force spoke to her. It knew her not by name; it knew only her passions, only her devotion, it knew only that she was Freedom.

Sellah could only wonder at the gentle whisperings from within her, the urgings that were as basic as instinct, but... deeper. She knew these whisperings to be the Force; they drove her and they stoked her fire. Some had told her these passions were evil, but she knew them to not be. Her struggle lay in determining whether she was acting on the Will of the Force, or acting as she thought the will should prompt her. As she matured, as she learned, as she grew, things became clearer and clearer. Questions that had been burning against her conscious for so long, flames licking her skin, faded to her steady movements, her twirls and arcs, and all that remained were the bright, solid embers of the Force, burning deep within her soul. It was a new sort of peace, a peace where it was easier to keep the volatile at bay.

And finally, her form ended, and the Selonian let her saber rest. She stood a moment, still caught in her last position, and remained, allowing her chest to expand and contract, expand and contract, until the Oxygen had permeated her muscles once more. And then she relaxed, drawing herself to stand straight. One could not call the Jedi pleased, but she was satisfied for the moment. Some might have encouraged her with the idea that she had just completed a master's form, a master's rhythm, and could, in all appearances, pass off as a master of Ataru. That is, unless the observer were a master herself. For Sellah knew the moments in which she had been sloppy, in which her balance had wavered, or her blade had cut too high. Nothing but perfection was acceptable, and failure was a better teacher than success.

That matter thus settled, Sellah lifted her head to survey the temple grounds, golden eyes glittering in the sunlight. It was a warm, heady day in Coruscant, and sweat had sprung up a subtle foam on Sellah's dense fur. And yet, a Jedi did not allow herself to be discouraged by the elements, least of all a Guardian. Holocrons and Parchments were sensitive to the elements, but a Jedi's body, and her saber, were not.

And so, Sellah, who had still yet to work the fire out of her bones, set off to find herself someone to spar with. A padawan caught her eye, but he was deep in study with his master. She spied another Knight, who she knew to be skilled in Djem So, but she was deep in her meditation. It seemed the heat and gotten to many of the Jedi, for the normally bustling courtyard held but two more Jedi: a consular who would, unfortunately, be no challenge for Sellah in a duel, and another, whose silver saber made a dazzling show. There was a smoothness to his movements, a subtlety, that marked him as a practicer of Makashi. No matter the Jedi, the forms tended to intermingle, ever so slightly, and Sellah had an eye for such things. Makashi was one of the easiest to pick out, and though Sellah observed further, she simply could not pick out any other definite forms. It was an art-in-progress.

Logically, he would provide ample challenge, and Sellah made her way over. His confidence with a saber, and simple demeanor made him appear as a Master, but Sellah, who had finally become accustomed to judging age in near-humans, would only have placed him in his mid-twenties, which is why she had not been surprised, upon first seeing the vaguely-familiar healer some time ago, that he was not addressed as a Master. But only a master could yeild a blade with such confidence. And so Sellah trusted her instinct, and approached the Jedi as such.

She stood five yards away, pausing as to not startle the Jedi. Trillian, her master, had once told her she had a knack for sneaking up on people. Sellah had been quite devastated to be berated for such a flaw, but Trillian had assured her it was valuable. As long as she didn't sneak up on other Jedi. And so she simply stood, knowing her presence in the Force would catch the Jedi's attention, if he was indeed a master. She knew not how to project her own presence, and even less how to manipulate it, but he would notice.

When his blades had slowed to a rate, that Sellah might speak without having the appearance of interrupting, she began.

"Master Jedi, I am Sellah Bellae, and I would like to spar. Would you grant me the honor?"

[Dutch]

As Lev began another round of his training, he would feel a presence approach. His senses picked up that it wasn't human, a vaguely different way of thinking touching his mind as she approached. As he spun the silver blade he suddenly switched styles mid stroke- his cuts less fluid, but adding more power to the strike, with still only using one hand he swung the weapon in a one handed ticking motion, occasionally, spinning back then lunging forward with the weapon as he did. He then dipped low and finished his round with an upward stab- a blow that if placed right would either plunge straight into the heart of head.

Panting heavily from the heat, the Jedi drew the Force into himself, letting its cool presence ease the humidity a little. Now breathing a bit more comfortably as sweat beaded and dripped down his bare torso and face, silver rimmed green eyes glanced at the woman who approached him. The fury, keen features of a Selonian gazed at him- Levin not envying the woman's fur in the heat. He took a deep breath and bowed respectfully at the fellow Jedi, showing the same respect he gave for any rank- deep respect.

Levin looked at the Selonian with an almost emotionless look, his eyes glinting with a keen intelligence though. She had called him Master- it was curious to the Human- Apithiri bred man. He held a quick hand forward after she spoke and bowed his head slightly, his eyes not leaving hers before speaking.

"Please, I am no Master- I am but a willing servant."

He turned around and took a few steps back before turning. Levin nodded at the other Jedi and took up his custom ready stance, standing sideways with his right side towards Sellah, his right arm that held his lightsaber made a right angle with his elbow, the silver weapon pointed up and slightly back- his left hand slightly open if needed.

"I will accept your request, Sellah Bellae."

Levin said in his cool, calm tone- vivid green eyes focused on the Selonian, ready for her to make the next move.

[Kella]

Sellah nodded at the man, less surprised by his response than she probably should have been. Masters were enigmatic, mysterious, and Sellah did not understand them. The significance of their vagueness completely eluded her, and she had no appreciation for artful withholding of information. And so she simply nodded, and returned his bow in kind. As she rose, she settled her saber in her palm, claws curving carefully about its hilt. With an eager Clit, hissssz the forest-green saber leapt to light, while silver sparks flared out from its core. They were tamer than usual, this day, for the intensity of her blade was set to burn but not slice; a customary setting for sparring. Sellah raised the humming saber into the Ataru opening stance, both palms pressed against the emitter in a two-handed hold, held just to her right, to align with the angled set of her hips.

A heartbeat passed, as Sellah mentally prepared herself. Because she was not fighting to kill, she would forgo some of the power of her attacks, in favor of more precise application. It was the last proper bit of planning she'd have, for soon, instinct would take over.

"Then we shall begin." When Sellah fought, she fought with no reservations.

Three strides and Sellah bounded forward, agile feet perfecting her course, as her claws dug traction into the ground. Her last stride was placed so as to bring her dominate foot forward, and she planted it, driving her momentum into a diagonal, downward swing, left to right across Levon's torso. She did not lay into the strike, however, but kept her weight centered, so that she could move with a dodge and force a parry.

Sellah wasted no time smoothly transitioning into her next manuever, using the opposite force of the parry to spin herself around counter-clockwise, using both ear and the Force so that she would not lose a moment's observation of her quarry. Her spine twisted in a show of flexibility possible only for a Selonian, so as to snap the movement like a whip. This twist she used to drive a horizontal swipe, only approximately aimed, but brimming with power, and confident in the currently-close quarters...

[Dutch]

Levin watched as the Selonian bounded forward towards him, the man not budging his stance as he awaited her attack. As she began the attack he swung his silver blade upwards, locking forest-green with silver before rolling his wrist and letting it slide down his blade harmlessly, sparks dripping from the weapons as he took a step back, disengaging a potential lock. But in an amazing show of grace and agility, Sellah twisted and spun, sending a rapid attack his way. His teachings in Niman told him not to engage this one. Instead, he blended his technique, and used his Makashi footwork to quickly dash to the right side away from the woman.

However, he was not just a defensive fighter when it came to lightsabers, his training with both Makashi and Niman when blended, made a mostly attack oriented form, but with the flexibility to fall back onto defensive forms. Right as he got to the side he lunged forward, the silver blade shooting straight at Sellah's right thigh as he did. Take out an opponents legs, and the rest becomes easy. But as his lightsaber was also on burn instead of cut, it wouldn't have the same effect as it would on a real enemy. Kick steps brought Lev to the left side now, spinning the blade in his hand as he spun and dipped low but struck high, an attack aimed at her left atm now. Take out an arm, and the enemy's killing prowess was cut in half.

After his two swift attacks, fancy footwork allowed him to step back from the Selonian. Levin faced her head on this time, standing in what appeared to be a one handed Niman stance, but his saber was held angled down towards the ground, a Makashi stance. Nimashi- as his former Master dubbed it, was an interesting form indeed.

[Kella]

Sellah made her spin complete, quickening the last step into a whip-lash, the muscles of her arms straining to support her low-block, the clash of sabers presenting his from scorching her thigh.

He was agile on his feet, a well-match for herself, and even as she was recovering from the block, kick-steps had brought him around to her other side. He dipped low, and Sellah made the mistake of judging this to be another low swipe. By the time she realized his strike was for her arm, it was too late to parry.

Instead, she threw her upper-body backwards, deactivating her saber as she did. The back-bend planted her forepaws very near her feet, one palm flush with the ground, the other touching with only the knuckles, for it still held her silent saber. She kicked her feet up in the air, bringing her heavy tail up as she did and attempting to catch the fore-part of the master's saber-arm as he swung upward, hopefully knocking the saber from his grasp. She felt only air, and the superheated halo of his saber; her aim had been off. Instinct provided her no time to further consider this.

Sellah's lower-body continued to arch over the fulcrum of her paws, and as it neared center, she bent her elbows and pressed arduously against the ground, the force propelling her fore-body upward again in a hand-spring, rear paws landing solidly on the ground once more. She saw the master standing, saber in hand, in a position not quite Niman, and not quite Makashi.

Sellah wasted no time in bounding forward again, each short stride pulling another tendril of the Force into her core. She could feel it beckon her next move. She raised her saber, activating it as if to make a strike head-on at the man. However, just before she might have made the actual swing, Sellah planted her feet on the ground. The muscles of her abdomen and legs strained with the effort, but the Force caught on and aided them, Sellah's vertical jump sending her high into the air. At the apex of her leap, Sellah's body twisted around, realigning so that she would land behind the man, and facing him. The almost airy way in which she fell made it small wonder why the Jedi had entitled that particular maneuver the 'falling leaf'.

Sellah's rear paws hit the ground hard, and her legs coiled as she crouched low, absorbing what force she could. That down-swing of her shoulders transitioned smoothly into her next strike, a crisp, low swing aimed at the knees of her opponent. And yet, the man would soon be wise to her ways, and so in one motion, she deactivated her saber, then ducked her shoulder and rolled. She planted her free fore-paw, allowing her haunches to swing around so she could face him once more, re-activating her saber. And so, Sellah waited readily in this position, her rear legs coiled and raring to spring, her left, front paw steadying her crouch, and her saber in a horizontal forward block, humming as her golden eyes peered over it at the man.