The light of sunrise settled over Braashan's narrow shoulders, reflecting off of the top of his nearly bare head, and lit the stacks of ancient texts scattered haphazardly across the table in front of him; some records of the Jedi Order may have been available in data-form, but Braashan was never one to favor such advancement over the raw and natural feel of a traditional scroll or leather-binding. It was just an hour after dawn, and as usual the young man was up and tucked neatly into a chair in the archives of the Tython Monastery's lower levels. He was alone, as was typical. Very few ever ventured into the archives at all, especially at this time of day. Quite often did he find himself there in the wee hours of the morning reading and meditating quietly beneath the stunning arches and grand apertures that were quintessential of Tythonian architecture.
Lately however, Braashan's solitary study sessions had been filled with anxiety and a lack of concentration. It was understandably so, for just a few days ago he had received notice that Jedi Knight Ronin Thorn had accepted him as his padawan, a much unexpected notice indeed, and today was his first scheduled meeting with his new master to begin the next step in his training. The fifteen year old had waited far longer to receive this honor than any of his other friends, seeing the last of his circle of companions be taken up for training nearly two years ago. Nevertheless, he was as ready as ever.
He slapped shut the book entitled "The Alsakan Crisis" and set it down in front of him gently. This selection of his was no coincidence; in fact, he had spent hours the night before seeking it out in the archives along with several other records involving the Alsakan race and its history. Over the short period of time that followed their pairing, Braashan had learned enough to know that his master had been born of an Alsakan woman during the Crisis and had been trained by Master Keldroma himself - the latter of which was enough to send a chill up Braashan's brittle spine. Having an instructor trained by the top of the Order was intimidating, and he felt he would have to do a great deal to impress him. A great deal, indeed.
When Braashan arrived in the training room he found himself to be alone once more. His training saber in hand, he made his way over to the room's one window and set the clumsy weapon up against the wall. He took a deep breath and tried to focus his mind on something that would ease his nerves though he had no success. His limbs shivered as he exhaled and proceeded to stretch on the square mat in the center of the room, knowing that at any minute his new master could walk through the doorway. The sound of the sliding mechanical door looped in his mind causing him to flinch whenever he heard someone enter or exit one of the other rooms down the hall. Following each stretch, Braashan would adjust his robes and look across the floor at his training weapon in anticipation. He repeated the words he would use to introduce himself over and over again, making the most unnoticeable changes in grammar to assure himself that he came off as intelligent as possible...
Lately however, Braashan's solitary study sessions had been filled with anxiety and a lack of concentration. It was understandably so, for just a few days ago he had received notice that Jedi Knight Ronin Thorn had accepted him as his padawan, a much unexpected notice indeed, and today was his first scheduled meeting with his new master to begin the next step in his training. The fifteen year old had waited far longer to receive this honor than any of his other friends, seeing the last of his circle of companions be taken up for training nearly two years ago. Nevertheless, he was as ready as ever.
He slapped shut the book entitled "The Alsakan Crisis" and set it down in front of him gently. This selection of his was no coincidence; in fact, he had spent hours the night before seeking it out in the archives along with several other records involving the Alsakan race and its history. Over the short period of time that followed their pairing, Braashan had learned enough to know that his master had been born of an Alsakan woman during the Crisis and had been trained by Master Keldroma himself - the latter of which was enough to send a chill up Braashan's brittle spine. Having an instructor trained by the top of the Order was intimidating, and he felt he would have to do a great deal to impress him. A great deal, indeed.
----
When Braashan arrived in the training room he found himself to be alone once more. His training saber in hand, he made his way over to the room's one window and set the clumsy weapon up against the wall. He took a deep breath and tried to focus his mind on something that would ease his nerves though he had no success. His limbs shivered as he exhaled and proceeded to stretch on the square mat in the center of the room, knowing that at any minute his new master could walk through the doorway. The sound of the sliding mechanical door looped in his mind causing him to flinch whenever he heard someone enter or exit one of the other rooms down the hall. Following each stretch, Braashan would adjust his robes and look across the floor at his training weapon in anticipation. He repeated the words he would use to introduce himself over and over again, making the most unnoticeable changes in grammar to assure himself that he came off as intelligent as possible...
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