Some Sort of Direction

[Le Seigneur d'Avocats]

Tython. Chervil could have walked the lush forests of it for ages. To feel his feet on dirt. Soil. Ground. It was almost as though breathing in the air that was free from the salt-spray had invigorated him completely. Someone on the transport-ship to the planet had mentioned that often there were tremendous storms that came about via the force. Although apparently sometimes dangerous, Chervil wished to experience such a phenomenon nonetheless. He wanted to feel the rain of this world, to smell the moist earth beneath his feet, to hear the sound of thunder connecting with something other than water. Alas, the young human was unable to do so much as place his hand against a tree, as he was immediately forced onto a transport vessel and delivered to the Jedi Temple.

The temple's exterior amazed him however. The tastefully ornate conglomeration of hewn structures dotted with greenery gleamed in the sunlight. Though the architecture of Ahto City Resorts on Manaan would be considered elegant, the natural elegance of the temple astounded him. The power of the place was evident. He could feel it pounding in his veins as he passed through the large archway of the temple's main entrance way. Perhaps it was nearly his nerves.

For there was much to be nervous about. Chervil suddenly became aware of how vastly unprepared he was, as his dark boots made loud noises on the temple's pristine flooring as he walked. He knew only what the average person knew of the Jedi; they were a group of mysterious individuals who used the force to uphold peace and justice throughout the galaxy. Even Chervil knew that there was doubtless much more to it than that. And he had foolishly signed himself up for something that he really did not know all that much about. Still, the Knight who had persuaded him to do this seemed to think that he had promise and that this was the right path for him. Speaking of path, where was he even going? He realized he did not know. He felt the urge to wander and explore the temple, but realized that would have been of little use to him. He also realized that he was lost. The Knight who had sent him to Tython told him he had already arranged for a master to mentor him, a certain AbdAas. He was, supposedly, to find this master and then begin his training. But how exactly was that to happen? He did not know the location of this man, and as far as he was aware, AbdAas did not know of his either.

Besides, how would AbdAas even know Chervil was to be his student? Chervil looked disconcertingly down at his attire, a rather flamboyant, bright blue jacket that clashed magnificently with his hair, a somewhat plain white shirt embroidered with metallic thread and dark leather trousers and boots. Nowhere close to the robes of everyone else that passed him by as he wandered about the temple. How was one even supposed to acquire robes anyway? They certainly weren't the sort of thing you could just buy in a store. Hopefully, someone would take note of his unease and give him some sort of direction.

 

[DeathToll]

"Uhm.. Pardon me?"

A kind and gentle face bent down beside the overbearingly innocent young man. Her soft brown hair pulled back into a ponytail, yet courageously embracing the whisps of wild hair that twirled down around her ears, at her forehead, and at her neck. Hers was the kind of welcome one might hope for in their dreams, which would not come often in any busy community such as this and like any other. Her rosy cheeks lifted her thin smile over her lightly tanned skin. She was to be this boy's savior, a guide when needed most. In such a situation, one might think that if you simply wish it that the answer shall simply appear. Was all life to come going to be as easy and perfect as this...?

The bustle of a content community proceeded through the backround. The entrance to this great Temple was very much in use, as the halls and chambers were also full of purpose. Voices from the classrooms echoed through the open doors, and conversations were bountiful. Life was the very subject that propelled this monument's inhabitants.

And yet, here was this courteous young, attractive, lady dressed in brown Jedi robes, willing to take time out of her important day to help this new traveler. Of course, as this young initiate would soon find out, the life of a Jedi is not so effortless...

"Might I help you with something?"

 

[Le Seigneur d'Avocats]

He knew before she was even remotely close that she was approaching him, that is, the woman with the large, watery and kind eyes, and soft brown hair cascading in wisps around her features despite having apparently been once restrained. There was something about her, a plainspoken elegance that somehow managed to outshine the grandeur of their surroundings. He was glad to have seen her. Chervil supposed that providence did have a habit of being divine, after all. He shot shy glances at her as she walked down the hall in his direction, but it appears she did not notice him in his furtiveness. And so he turned his vision away, and waited for her to come.

And come she did, with the slightly awkward but entirely pleasant, "Uhm... Pardon me?"

Chervil turned attentively, beaming. She was, no doubt, certain that she had been pardoned.

"Might I help you with something?"

There were many things that she might help with. If he were back home, Chervil knew that he would undoubtedly attempt to, well, woo her... for lack of a better expression. Somehow, somewhere within his thick head, Chervil knew such an attempt at this moment would be inappropriate. Nevertheless, that didn't mean he wasn't going to be as charming as he could. Such a fortuitous welcoming deserved his best foot forward in reply. Although, even if he had been met with some scowling hag shouting/inquiring to his presence here, Chervil realized he would have responded in the same way, only, not so gleefully nor sincerely.

"Good day," he started, extending his hand forward to meet hers; a very antiquated, but quaint and rather personal greeting. "My name is Chervil Lyelle. I've come to the temple here to begin my training under Master AbdAas..." he paused briefly before continuing in something of mewling manner, like a kath hound pup going hungry, though he still maintained that beaming expression. "I am afraid to admit that I've lost my way, however. Not that I really knew where I was going in the first place."

He had wanted to say that he felt lost in more than just a physical sense. There were so many things he did not know. So many things that he did not even know he did not know. It was almost overwhelming for him to think about. So he did not, instead soaking up the conversation between himself and the Jedi before him whose name he did not yet know.

 

[DeathToll]

"Well I am so pleased to meet you Chervil Lyelle. My name is Eytest Yvestic."

The lady was very well intended and charming, no doubt a character trait of hers that had sparked more than a few random conversations during her time here. Though her slim smile did not carry the weight it once did upon hearing the name of Chervil's master. For she had only just recently come of rank, and had only just recently returned to this Temple. For the name that Chervil had just mentioned had not been in circulation for some time now. Though many might know of the once Grandmaster Oriatius, it was not beyond reason that some had not heard of the name either.

"I'm sorry. I probably should know who that is, but... I've not heard that name before today. But I can point you towards someone who would know. Master Heilerot is just down that hall and to the first left. ...Just don't tell him about how I couldn't help you, kay?."

And with a wink, the energetic lady was off; having pointed the newcomer on his way. Her soft touch upon nearly every shoulder she passed was like the morning dew upon refreshing blades of grass. Though, once she had left, the distant unknown would once again surround the Padawan with passing strangers and ignoring faces. Though not all were so detatched.

Upon reaching the designated chamber, two voices would become more noticeable with a rising emphasis in conflicting yet also symbiotic nature. One Ithorian swung an arm passed the doorway and into a gray-skinned humanoid. The humanoid stabbed his fingers into the pit of the Ithorian's ferocious swinging arm, peeling his own opposing shoulder back so that the humanoid could swing underneath with a pulling grip upon the Ithorian's wrist and there able to press his cutting hand onto the subdued crease of the Ithorian's pinched shoulder. But this Ithorian was not done yet...

 

[Le Seigneur d'Avocats]

Chervil was saddened slightly by Yvestic's departure, but was also somewhat confused. The information that he had been given on his soon-to-be master indicated that he was at least somewhat important. That his first guide did not know of him was mysterious and perhaps slightly disconcerting. The fact that Yvestic seemed to be rather inexperienced herself was, however, comforting. Perhaps, in the not to distant future, it would be Chervil himself walking down the hallway with a gentle hand upon a newcomer's back. For the time being, Chervil had but one desire, to find his master and begin his indoctrination into this new way of life post-haste.

When he followed the directions to Master Heilerot, he was nonplussed. He did not know which one, if either of them, was Master Heilerot, but they appeared to be in combat. Perhaps they were sparing? But there was something strange about the situation to Chervil, though he could not place what. Unsure of what to say, exactly, Chervil just stood there, watching.

 

[DeathToll]

The Ithorian swung in and under the humanoid's grip, passing through and behind the subduer with flow and ease. But the humanoid let his weight spin him around the Ithorian with an equally smooth pivot, as the humanoid's free left hand reached a grip of his own right wrist to pull that forearm back into a choke against the Ithorian lest his arm be twisted beyond capability. The Ithorian ducked the choke, swooping round to face the humanoid and standing up place a right foot into the humanoid's opposing inner right knee whilst pounding a left palm into his own captive right arm that would punch them both into the humanoid. The humanoid, in turn, twisted right and used the Ithorian's momentum and grip of the wrist to hurl the Ithorian passed him. But the Ithorian held on as he was swung completely around the humanoid, landing behind him to twist a hoisting shoulder throw of his own. The humanoid shot back a propping right foot between the Ithorians, hooking onto the Ithorian for security, then swung his body around the Ithorian and curled down a left arm over his neck for a sudden guillotine choke. The Ithorian struggled, but soon tapped out.

There were several other students standing in the back of the class, looking on at the struggle and noticing the new figure that had entered silently. And as the two combatants released each other, their intense yet controlled, and somehow mellow, focus' began to melt into the distance. They rose to their full respective stands, bowed to each other, and wrinkled their faces as only two old souls could in satisfied respect of each other.

"Prrred llllrt phhedrerred sullodded eph sehgd ed rrrah drdrdrehn hen."

The Ithorian spoke in his native tongue, then turning to the class as they joined in thanking the Master for his part in the demonstration.

"Thank you Master Oriatius."
"Thank you Master Oriatius."
"Thank you Master Oriatius."

The gray-skinned Sephi lowered his head with a rocking conclusion to the motion, then lifted his gaze up and over the heads of the class before him; back to the newcomer in the doorway.

"The pleasure, is all mine young ones. ...And it seems we have a visitor? I leave you in Master Heilerot's capable hands. Good day to you all."

The six foot two inches Sephi Master slowly turned around in his long pearly white, single shoulder robes; his beaming white eyes aglow with the Force, and locks of long white hair that were clamped at various joints hung down before his chest. His image was that of a negative, skin darker than all else; the rest only highlighting that smokey rough skin. He smiled through his eyes, glaring down at the initiate before him as the class began to pick up again behind.

"Greetings, my friend. Have you lost your way?"

The kind yet sturdy Master opened a hand to guide them both out into the hallway where they would not be a distraction to the class, his steel pocket watch clicking against his thigh with the shifting chain links attatched to his belt as he stepped into red-haired boy to insist on movement out through the exit.

 

[Le Seigneur d'Avocats]

The two figures continued to fight in a strange display of twisting and turning, swaying arms and deflected blows. They seemed, more often that not, to be merely continuing the momentum of each other's attacks by re-positioning themselves. Combat on Manaan itself was rare, as the overbearing authorities were quick to end it and provide swift punishment to those who resorted to violence, but when a fight did break out, it was never something like this. More often than not, it was one or two bolts from a blaster, and even when it wasn't, it just a flurry of fists. A brutish and unrefined showcase of who could both give and receive the most pain.

Eventually, the gray-skinned humanoid won out over the Ithorian, and Chervil noticed that he was not alone with the fighters in the room as the Ithorian graciously acknowledged his opponent. How he had missed the mass of what he presumed to be Jedi Students in front of him, he did not know. Perhaps he was merely too entranced in the display between the two masters. \

"Thank you Master Oriatus," the Ithorian spoke. "Thank you Master Oriatus," the class echoed in reply.
Master Oriatus.
Oriatus.
AbdAas Oriatius.

Chervil cursed himself. Had he really been so foolish as to assume that a Jedi Master would go by their first name? Would Yvestic have recognized the last name of the master? Would Chervil be forced to suffer the embarassment of her giggling when she found out why she did know of the Master AbdAas? Speaking of the Master, Chervil focused his attention on him. His robes were different from the other Jedi, draped over and wrapped around, exposing various parts of the body; more flowing and less constricting. Chervil decided he rather preferred these types of robes to the ones he had every other Jedi wearing. But aside from his robes, there was something exotic about him. The way that the bright white of his hair and eyes contrasted with the dull charcoal of his skin and the glint of his gold bracers created a rather regal effect with the robes.

He was ushered into the hallway by Master Oriatius, who immediately sensed, as did Yvestic, that Chervil was somewhat beyond himself. But now Chervil felt calmed. He felt that everything would proceed as it was supposed to. He smiled and his words flowed easily.

"Well, I suppose I am lost no longer, Master. You see, I was informed that upon my arrival here at the Temple on Tython, Master AbdAas Oriatius would train me in the ways of the Jedi. That is to say, that you would train me. I am... I suppose I am your new student. My name is Chervil Lyelle."

Unsure of the proper level of deference he was to show his new master, Chervil merely clasped his hands and bowed his head slightly in his Master's direction.

 

[DeathToll]

"Ah! Young Chervil Lyelle. Yes. It is a pleasure to meet you. Have you just arrived?"

AbdAas' demeanor was that of a mixture; both stern and empathetic. Age, it seemed, gave credit to both ends of the spectrum upon experience. And though the nature of his species combined with the presence of the Force would likely provide him with another two to three hundred years, he still felt plenty old at times when training the youngest of the Order. Though time, and time again, proved itself to be idle in its rather childlike sentient measurement of its true being.

The Sephi Master returned a kind bow, reserved to equal that of the Initiate's. He then pivoted him an angle away from the new comer, awaiting confirmation with a requesting tilt of the head as to whether he was ready to depart or not. AbdAas would lead the way, taking his new Padawan to show him where his living quarters would be; thus also finding time to change into more proper attire, befitting a Jedi in training. AbdAas would also need to stop by his own quarters to retrieve his training sabers so that Chervil might find himself the proper tool of choice. In the mean time, it would do them well to become acquainted.

"I would have preferred to have greeted you on your transport's landing, but there was a lack of communication that lead me to believe there might be some delay. I'm pleased to find my logic unfounded."

The Master's features softened, pleanty capable of a warm welcome; though it was still subtle compared to many. He managed to smile through his gleaming white eyes, still carrying a demanding presence with each steady stride. He walked along side his newest Padawan, always glad to meet another promising student.

 

[Le Seigneur d'Avocats]

The Master was stern but welcoming, entirely in line with what Chervil expected a Master would be. Oriatius seemed to have some destination in mind and though Chervil did not know where they were going, he was happy to finally feel like he was making some sort of progress, instead of wandering about the hallways lost.

"Yes, Master, I arrived only hours ago. I wanted to explore Tython some, as it seems a wondrous world, especially to someone such as myself, as I haven't traveled very much. I was informed that it would be best if I reported immediately to yourself, of course. That was probably a good decision, as I would have likely gotten myself lost. And there aren't so many helpful faces in Tython's wilds..."

 

[DeathToll]

"Ahaha! I suppose not. ..And then again, it is sometimes beneficial to 'get lost', in order to find oneself. Even the most sinister of faces can teach an objective mind, if they're willing to see all its subtleties and definition. ...Take mine for example..."

AbdAas smiled in jest, joining in enjoyment of the other's company whilst also taking every word that enters his inner circle with a grain. For his focus determines his reality. But there was no wrong in the Padawan's words. There was simply ample opportunity for the Master to teach. And he would waste not.

They continued onwards, some passing Jedi smiling with a simple nod and some taking the time to give a respectful bow. It would seem Chervil was now quite noticed in the company of this Sephi Master, a welcome and compassionate environment following them as they walked the halls, as opposed to Chervil's initial arrival. As they turned corners, waved to would be friends that Chervil may soon come to know, and passed filled and purposeful rooms - life, it seemed, was bountiful here. The walls themselves were content, warm, and open.

"But I wonder what discussions the trees are having today...?"

The Jedi Master tossed out the pondering statement of an old man, beginning to enjoy his coming of age. What exactly he meant by that would be left unsaid, for now; as it was meant to entice and enchant the young imaginative mind of this fair Padawan. Some sunshine might do him some good...

"We should get you acquanted with your new home, however. After all, you'll need a place to eat and rest. Ah, you see those two walking there? They're heading into the archives. You may find yourself spending some time there, so remember this hall; it splits into most of the main branches of the Temple."

"Most of the dormitories are on this end, though some are scattered throughout; while some of the Jedi spend most of their nights in the archives or sparring chambers. Some prefer to fight or read in their sleep. Hmhm.. I myself find my feet in the moist clay of the wilds of night at times. Oh, and that leads to the general cafeteria. You would do best to steer yourself clear of the Hydian space slug."

"...It is my understanding that you come from Manaan, young Chervil?"

 

[Le Seigneur d'Avocats]

Master Oriatius laughed, as planned, at Chervil's self-depreciating sort of humour though he also stated that in terms of finding oneself. it could be beneficial to get lost from time to time. Chervil was not sure, and reflected on this. Had he found anything about himself from getting lost within the temple? He had made the acquaintance of another Jedi and stumbled into a demonstration that would have perhaps been beneficial if he were a little more down the path, but had found nothing of himself. Or maybe he merely found that he was foolishly stumbling about in places that were yet un-illuminated to him. But what did that matter? Things seemed to be working out fine.

His master's next comment was strange, and had Chervil wondering how old his master was, exactly. What discussions were the trees having today? Chervil, though inexperienced with the planet of Tython and its flora, immediately doubted any such literal meaning and was left with the inference that his master implying some deeper philosophical meaning. But Chervil did not take the bait and AbdAas did not explain further. Instead, they walked about the temple, Chervil's master pointing out and explaining various locations. Chervil followed behind, silently, intently attempting to commit all the information he was receiving to memory.

After passing near where the Jedi took their meals, Chervil's master asked about Manaan. Chervil laughed slightly at the thought of Master Oriatius on Manaan. He and the Selkath would get along quite well, Chervil thought, as they both seemed to have a natural inclination for the quiet and orderly with the slightest twinge of the primordial.

"Yeah, I'd say Manaan is my home, Master. I was born on Daupherm, but my family moved within the year and I don't remember it. Manaan was... unexciting. Maybe even downright boring except for the off-worlders visiting the resort. A long time ago, Manaan was an important world, and I'm sure it'd've been plenty exciting back then. But Bacta was discovered to be a lot better than Kolto at healing people, so it kind of became this hum-drum world with nothing on it but the ocean. Why do you ask, Master?

 

[DeathToll]

"Daupherm.. Daupherm... Ah, yes. I once almost stopped there to replenish supplies after settling a dispute on Thracior."

The Sephi groped his beard, rolling a cylindrical metal clamp around one of the long locks there between his fingertips. He remembered a time when he was young, eager to save those from themselves who need not saving. It was an exciting time, filled with adventure. Though only splitting his attention partially, he was still completely focused on here and now.

"Well, I seem to recall a certain conversation via transmission between recruiter and temple, telling of a boy found at sea... But such tales must be 'unexciting' for a young man like you."

AbdAas smirked beneath his beard under cover of hand, eyes slanting to enjoy the boy's reaction depending. This Master had been well informed, but had only brought up the boy's homeworld to get a further idea of who he was in his reaction; and so he did.

After some time of walking, they would finally reach the dormitories where Oriatius might show the boy his new home. In his closet, there would be an assortment of robe sets with various shades as well as boots and other articles to choose from. Once chosen, the rest would be removed for another's arrival.

"Here we are. Just through here and... there. This will be your quarters. I've made preparations for you inside. Though I seem to still require something for you that we will next retrieve. Go on in and make yourself ready. I will wait for you here."

What the Padawan may eventually discover, is that everything AbdAas does is for a purpose. Every choice and every measurement of time was taken into care and weighed accordingly for the trials ahead. Their conversation, the time taken to reach one destination only to have to traverse back to the opposite end just after, and even the color of robe that the Padawan might choose. There was, of course, something similar to AbdAas' robe in the mix; just to throw things off. Though that piece would wrap over both shoulders, where AbdAas' went over only one. It did not matter what he chose, only that everything around us is interpreted by and through us. And AbdAas was curious to further learn about his new Padawan.

 

[Le Seigneur d'Avocats]

Chervil stifled his snickering at the slightly smirking Sephi senior before responding, "Heh, well, Master, I suppose that would've been exciting for many people, but once I got over the initial jolt of 'I'm going to die,' I was, um, calm? It actually became kind of boring, just floating around, waiting for some firaxa to get fed up with that annoying dot on the surface and finally end me."

Upon arriving at his new chambers, Chervil immediately made his way inside, eager to change out of the clothes that seemed so glaringly out of place within the temple. He sifted through the robes, wondering if really made any difference which one picked. After all, wasn't the whole point of the robes to reflect the modesty of the wearer? But such thoughts immediately vanished upon his discovery of robe that was similar to what his master wore. Though it was different, the pearly white piece of cloth being longer and wrapping about both shoulders, one partially covering the other and possessing a slight blue stripe on one border of the fabric, it was unmistakably the same style of robe. Chervil donned the robe in addition to a pair of dark brown boots and a single silver cortosis-weave bracer worn upon his right forearm. He wished to look at himself in a mirror, but the rather small (as expected) chamber did not possess one, for though he looked nothing like his master, he wondered whether these clothes would produce the same effect on him as they did on his master.

Chervil could not wait for what his master had hinted at, and what he knew was likely coming next: a saber. The glowing, humming blade that radiated a sort of metaphorical light that would guide in times of darkness. The notion had entranced him, vaguely, even before the traveling Knight had come to Manaan and displayed one to him. Even though he was likely to just receive a training saber that could little more than inflict slight burns, he was still enormously excited to have one of his own and to begin instruction of its use.

 

[DeathToll]

Even during the short time separated from Chervil, AbdAas would be discovered in conversation with two different groups; unclear as to which approached the Master first. It was a rare thing to find a Master standing still in the dormitory halls of Tython's great Temple, let alone standing still at all. And so he was blitzed by questions of recent classes as well as current events surrounding the majority Jedi. His attention would, however, be reclaimed as soon as Chervil reappeared from his room.

Upon first sight of his newest Padawan, AbdAas was surprised by his own closed smile; a reaction to the unexpected choice of the Padawan. The silent smile did not linger long, as AbdAas immediately turned away towards their next objective and excused himself from conversation.

"Time reflects choice, my friends! Go, and make choices you believe in...!"

"On to our next destination, my young Padawan. ..What do you know of the Jedi? Such is to say, how do you view the Jedi personally? What is their major purpose in existence? And how do you intend to apply yourself, to connect yourself, to that purpose?"

 

[Le Seigneur d'Avocats]

Chervil was not surprised by those pestering his Master, and waited patiently for him to finish his dealings with them. When they continued walking onward, he bit his lip as he thought about how to answer his Master's question.

"The Jedi are members of an order who study the force. I guess you could say we interpret it, or one side of it, anyway, and then act upon it. 'How am I going to apply myself to that?' I don't really have much of a concrete answer for you. I think that I need to grow and develop my abilities, in order to defend the weak and combat those that would attack the peace and justice that we still have.. I feel like it may be a more martial path than some others in the order, but all types are needed, aren't they?"

"How would respond to the same question, Master?"

 

[DeathToll]

"Hm.. Interesting."

AbdAas was a bit taken aback by the Padawan's reversal of the question, as most students of his did not think to ask a returning question so directly. Though all students of his expected his input and answer, they did not so forwardly request his take without strong opinion of their own. But this was seen as quite good in this Master's eye, a quality that lived through knowledge and the awareness of what one did not know rather than to first assume unearned and possibly incorrect knowledge.

"Please excuse my observation, but I must commend your honesty. It is a difficult concept, for some Jedi, to accept that they do not know everything, and that the most important step to growth is first establishing what one does not know or rather requires a greater understanding of."

"But to your question, I would answer that Jedi, in my view, are the keepers of the way of life. Though this in itself is defined as an interpretation, I would argue that interpretation is flawed and that truth transcends all interpretation. And, however one may interpret purpose or philosophy, the consideration of life is what sets the Jedi apart from other Force-based beliefs; the consideration of all life. And to consider all life, sometimes it is just as important to refrain from action as it is to instigate action; or to counter action with action."

"As for your application to that purpose, well. You must first find your own purpose that drives you. Then you can discover the honest answer that only you can get behind in your purpose here. My own purpose that drives me is that my every decision creates the possibility for life to continue, to thrive as it should in peace with its own flow; that every ripple I create, touches life that might not have been there otherwise."

AbdAas took a moment, taking them through the twists and turns of the Temple; though taking them a different way so that they might see every area possible before they continue. AbdAas looked over to the opening into courtyard, for Chervil to also notice it. There was a place of tranquility, where Jedi sought out time when otherwise time would run away from them.

"Indeed, you are correct my young Padawan. We, each of us, fulfill a role to which the whole of our purpose is served. We are servants to the galaxy, and all Jedi must remain aware of that fact..."

What a curious young man, AbdAas thought to himself. Truly this boy was complex. When, at first, AbdAas believed himself to have misread the meaning of Chervil's energy, to now once again dispute his own theory on the boy to return to his original theory in a different light. There would be no need to shed light on his theories or assumptions, as he only need take what the Padawan gave and build it so as best he could. But the boy's path was difficult to read at best.

AbdAas then turned to cross an open cavity of pillars through the Temple that defined the straight and narrow hallways they now crossed, yet kept a larger area open to complex travel with artistic design and use of light passage. Much was this sight mirrored to their conversation in deeper meaning of thought and expectancy rather than the surface words traded.

"You will come to hear my opinion repeated over our time together, and that is that each of us is to come to our own honest truths; for we are all different and must therefore find what properly sparks our purpose to join as one. So, when you feel a contradiction in yourself or a whisper of doubt, I would implore you to focus on that feeling and come to a conclusion about that feeling. In other words, I would ask that while you seek enlightenment with me, that you always trust in yourself. I ask not that you immediately act on your impulses, but instead that you acknowledge their presence and face them. Know them as either hinderance or aid to life, and choose life. But the balance of life is not weighed nor counted. Sometimes, there is no greater good but what is right in front of you. In the end, your decisions will always come down to your own beliefs."

AbdAas reached the less used section of the Temple, which was the Masters' quarters, and reached for the hall's entry-way controls; turning back to see the Padawan as he did so.

"Chervil, are you familiar with the 'major seven'? The seven forms of martial combat?"

 

[Le Seigneur d'Avocats]

The warmth of praise Chervil received quickly eroded as he contemplated his master's response to his own question. So many words, and yet his master's answer was somehow just as vague as his own. Interpretation? Consideration of life? What did that even mean in actuality? The words he had to share on purpose made more sense, but were also somewhat self-evident. Though what he said of his own purpose sounded strange as well. Chervil thought that whatever ramifications anyone could have, shut away in a temple, were limited at best. He wanted to see what, exactly, his master was like, when dealing with the larger portion of the galaxy. Perhaps one could make choices that certainly had a large impact on the way events that were to come occurred, but Chervil wanted to know how anyone could be so sure that the actions they took would always turn out for the best.

They continued to walk about the temple. Perhaps they were taking the scenic route? Or maybe the Temple's layout just wasn't very efficient. They passed a demure looking courtyard that Oriatius seemed to take special note of, then continued onward. Master Oriatius continued to speak. The Jedi were the servants of the galaxy, true. But what he said after snagged on something in the young Padawan's mind. How could you ever not be the servant of the galaxy, even if you attempted not to be? Ultimately, the galaxy and the force would do with individuals what it would. In his mind, even the Sith, the direct opposite of the Jedi, were bound by the force and the galaxy, just as every solider, smuggler and Jedi were, as they were all comprised and governed by the same thing; the omnipresent and all encompassing force.

They continued through a darker, apparently less frequented section of the temple and Chervil felt a slight chill. The somewhat un-recognized realization that he lacked free will, or perhaps that his free will was all part of some inherent plan, or otherwise irrelevant to the force and the galaxy itself, was giving him a severe headache. This was far too much thinking for Chervil's taste. He was aware that his master, had, in the mean time, continued to speak about something, but Chervil was distracted, and unable to focus on what he was saying.

As Oriatius stopped to enter a code on a wall panel, he referred to Chervil by name. This jolted the dispirited young man back towards the conversation. Oriatius was asking whether he had heard of some combat forms known as the Major Seven. The Jedi who had recruited him on Manaan had only lectured him very brief on the Jedi and the Force; what they were, what they did, why they were important... but he had not talked about any sort of form of combat.

"Uhh... No. Never heard of any such things. Sorry, Master."

 

[DeathToll]

AbdAas noticed the Padawan's shake of reentry to the conversation, in retrospect, but did not address it. He simply gathered that the Padawan was being overwhelmed by new information. For he knew little about Chervil, as they were both only just getting to know each other. AbdAas entered the key code, causing a double beep and then a release of air from the seal before the red light changed to green. He lead the way in, soon turning left to his room and entering his own personal code to his door. The door opened similarly as the outer door, and AbdAas stepped in to grab some things. Most notable were the two hilts he slipped into pocket before stepping back out and closing the door behind as he spoke.

"There are seven major, or 'classic', lightsaber forms that are recognized by the Jedi, not only as individual techniques to wielding a saber but also as philosophies to approach the duties of the Jedi. Padawans begin with the first, Form I: Shii-Cho; the determination form. This focuses on basic motions and target zones. Form II: Makashi, is the fencer's form; the contention form. This focuses on lightsaber to lightsaber dueling. Form III: Soresu, the resilience form, is a defensive form that relies on economy of motion and ease of stamina. Form IV: Ataru, the aggressive form, is exactly that. It relies on acrobatic and Force amplified motion. Form V: the perseverance form is an extension of Soresu, aiming defensive philosophy into countering redirection. This form is divided into two parts; Shien, which is more adept at blocking blaster bolts, and Djem So, which is intended more for lightsaber combat. Form VI: Niman, the moderation form, is a combination of all previous forms, but focusing on moderation. It also begs the use of combining the Force with attacks through creativity to achieve success. Exar Kun was one such practitioner. And finally Form VII: Vaapad. Though originally termed 'Juyo', it has taken the rediscovery of one Battlemaster Windu to recreate it as Vaapad -the ferocity form. Due to its pull perilously close to the Darkside, its tutelage has been restricted."

AbdAas led the boy through the halls to their next destination. They were to find 'The Way', their way to begin their journey together. And the way might actually be a hike through visuals pleasing to one such as Chervil.

"Once we begin introducing different techniques to your ability and attempt to apply them in combat, you will begin to notice your personal pattern and feel for which of the 'seven' best suites you. But time requires no incentive."

"Might you indulge my curiosity, young one? How do you currently view, and what is your understanding of the 'Force'?"

 

[Le Seigneur d'Avocats]

The Master's explanations of the forms was very interesting to Chervil, though he did not have the slightest idea as to which form he would favor, as the descriptions of them were very brief and worded descriptions could only do so much to capture the way things truly were. He was left with many questions, that he supposed were unimportant for the time being, or would probably reveal themselves along the way; Were there other forms, outside of these seven? What forms were the most commonplace among the Jedi and Sith? Which form did his Master prefer? He was certainly eager to find out himself, and when Oriatius retrieved two gleaming hilts from his room, his eyes shone with intensity, and he immediately forgot his past troubles.

His Master's question caught him off guard. On the surface, it was a silly question. Even Chervil knew what the force was, and he was somewhat clueless on most things Jedi. It was, indeed, he supposed a curious question. However, thinking on past topics of conversation, Chervil understood that there was much, again, in the way of interpretation to be done. Though the initial premise of the Force was a simple one to grasp and readily agreed upon, the specifics were disputed...

"Before all of this," Chervil started, motioning his arms about in a exaggerated manner to express history starting from when he was discovered by a Jedi on Manaan, "my understanding of the force was what I think most dumb and uninformed people in universe think of it: some strange phenomena that gives certain people certain powers, me not being one of those people. What I was taught on Manaan was very basic: The force is an energy that is found everywhere and flows through everything that transcends the physical world. The force is segmented into a light and dark side. People sensitive to the force can use it to do certain things... I understand it to be the source behind my survival."

"Since them, I guess I've come up with my own conclusions about it, based around my own experiences. Not only does the force flow through and around everything, but at the most basic level, I feel that everything made up from the force. I don't believe it to be sentient... but it has a plan? And everything follows that plan, whether it means to or not? I apologize for my uncertainty Master. I don't think I have ever expressed these views aloud."

 

[DeathToll]

AbdAas continued on, leading them towards the main entrance of the Temple. They were at the very beginning of Chervil's training, and there would be many questions he would have that would later be addressed as they progressed. Every one of AbdAas' students required a different approach as well as pace to achieve the necessary understanding that a Jedi needed.

"That is quite all right. That is part of the reason why I ask, so that you might hear your words as you would see yourself through a mirror. Likewise, in describing others, one must take care not to practice criticism, however unintended. You may one day find yourself in discussion with those who do not see things the way you do, and are required to bring out their better nature. Referring to them as either 'dumb' or 'uninformed' usually will not assist you in your cause. Instead, refer to their opinion as exactly that, an opinion; as opinion is subject to change based off of any amount of information. And though you may never reveal your thoughts to some, your actions often reflect your unspoken opinions."

The two reached the outer open of Tython, exiting the Temple and continuing towards nature's embrace. AbdAas would find a nice spot to begin their training. AbdAas enjoyed finding different routes of reaching his students in order to spark different skill sets and reactive and thought provoking conversations.

"As one would peel the layers of a vegetable to reach its core, we shall start you with three pillars of basic practice."

"First, the pillar of the Force. While some believe in the 'Unifying Force', a concept viewing the Force as a single deity that is neither of the Light nor Dark and presents one with a predetermined destiny, most believe in the 'Living Force', life ...in the simplest of forms and present in all things. Though, the Living Force is both part of the Light and Dark. It is, in fact, not in itself segmented. For it is the actions of an individual that, through their intent and their feelings, determine its effects on the self. Through the Living Force, my Padawan, we are here, present. In this, I would suggest that you explore your opinion in light of this thought:"

"Once there was a Jedi. He was a growing prominent amidst war. He became infatuated with his own legend, yet to be fulfilled, and eventually fell. But one day, he was faced with a choice and he chose to cast aside his villainous Master and fulfill what some called his prophecy. However, what some do not weigh into measurement is choice. The fallen Jedi's opponent and most crucial piece of the puzzle, for example. For this opponent to have shown himself that day and make it all possible, this opponent would have to have first decided to become a Jedi himself. Was it destiny or choice, that opponent's choice, that ruled the day; in lieu of prophecy? Was it the fallen Jedi's choice, and the choices of so many along the way that made prophecy possible, and not in reverse? Whether the existence of a plan gives structure to thought, is it choice that determines how a plan manifests? Is it choice that will see those children to safety one day when you are the only one who can help them, or a predetermined plan? Is it choice that will save your friend from the Darkness when you choose to stand back and allow a Master to face your friend instead of you? Or perhaps if you choose to be the one?"

"I would ask that you come to your own understanding of the Force, as I'm sure you will, as I will help you as best I can along the way. Uncertainty is nothing to be ashamed of, as long as you are actively pursuing further understanding and enlightenment. But we are only beginning. Time, it seems, is on your side today my young Padawan."

AbdAas paused for a moment as they walked to address any question or concern the Padawan may have.