Ask Yavin IV Trial of the Flesh

[Zathria]

It was a nice day at the Yavin temple as long as your name wasn't Crix Aran. Okay, fine, so it wasn't that bad for Crix, but the Trial of the Flesh had a reputation for being unpleasant by everyone's standards. Many had the "fortune" of completing their trials in combat these days, but such was not the case for Crix. Nor had it been the case for Zathria.

She still remembered her own Trial of the Flesh had been conducted in the same manner that she would perform Crix's today. In truth, it was an irregular method, but far less barbaric than some of the borderline-torture methods of some of the ancient days of the Order. The fact that she was primarily a member of the Jedi Healers, however, only leant further support to the idea that he might endure some agonizing physical suffering that could only be healed by someone with her particular talents.

While fear wasn't something that Zathria typically wanted to drum up in people, she did nothing to dispel these fears today. Master Skywalker had once said that "confronting fear was the destiny of a Jedi." That was what Crix would have to do today.

The room that Zathria had chosen to begin the trial was relatively empty. It was typically a sparring room, and at one side of the room was a helmet. It had actually taken a significant amount of effort for Zathria to procure it, but she had finally managed it.

So while the Echani waited, she meditated, levitating several feet in the air as she awaited the arrival of the Padawan.

 

[Crix Aran]

The Trial of the Flesh just got a bad rap… right?

Nope.

No, his own research into the processes of the Old Order had confirmed that it had earned its reputation amongst the Jedi Knights of old. It was not unheard of for people to pass the Trial of Flesh by accident by having a limb removed and being tortured under Sith Lightning. Crix had thought that would have been the exception, not the rule but it seemed it was often the other way around.
He was still on Yavin for the test and he had been told that it would be Zathria who was administering the trial for him. Crix knew of the Knight but he didn’t really remember having much chance to have a heart to heart with her or anything.

Probably for the best considering what the trial often used to require.

He had discarded most of his tools for the trial, walking into the room Zathria had secured for them after a light knock, wearing his Jedi robes with their heavy outer layer. As he entered he carefully folded the heavy outer layer before laying it down, leaving him with his light blue tunic, the armor plates having been removed.

All he had attached to the plain belt around his waist was his lightsaber. Seeing Zathria meditating in the centre of the room, Crix felt his gut clench as the reality began to set in. This was a trial that could see him denied entry to the ranks of the Jedi Knights… and he had never been the kind of person who tested well. His education had shown, time and time again, that he was often brilliant in areas he enjoyed so long as it was in coursework and projects rather than a singular exam.

Still, he pushed the doubts and the fears away as he bowed at the waist to Zathria.

“Knight Zathria… thank you for agreeing to oversee my Trial.”

@Phoenix

 

[Zathria]

Zathria's eyes opened as the door slid open and she came down from her spot in the air to sit on the ground. She could sense how nervous he was, and she could remember the feeling during her own trials as well. It hadn't been all that long ago for her, but she hoped he would get through it as well. She was sure that Hannibal wouldn't have put him forward for the trial if he wasn't ready.

Of course, she said. Please, sit, she said, motioning to the ground across from her for him to have a seat. The ground was designed for sparring, and thus was at least semi padded.

A part of her found herself wanting to comfort him, but she also knew that he needed to experience this on his own. She decided not to point out that he was nervous, because that felt a little bit mean and perhaps unnecessary. It wasn't anything that every other Knight had had to go through once. Instead, she decided to jump in to the topic.

What do you know about the Trial of the Flesh? she asked after he was seated. She knew how the rumors went. It was no secret that this trial had a reputation, but it was also different for everyone.

And what do you expect from today? To learn or to experience? she asked. Although he, of course, didn't know what the trial was going to be precisely, she wanted to gauge what he expected to learn about himself, the Force, and the Order. A trial was only as good as the lessons learned from it.

 

[Crix Aran]

Sitting across from the Knight, Crix found himself taking a moment to observe her. He wasn't sure what he had been expecting but he certainly hadn't expected her to look so young. Word around the Temple was that she was something of a healer - she must have been good for her to get such praise already in her Jedi life.

But that wasn't important.

It was a distraction he allowed himself to feel because he felt like he should, felt like it was for the best if he tried to get his mind off of his nerves. Thinking about it, clamping down on it, gave him the focus he needed to realize it wasn't the best way to do it. Instead he took a breath and wallowed in his nervousness for a second before breathing it out slowly with his breath, releasing as much as he could into the Force.

"I know of some of its history within the Old Jedi Order, from some research." he admitted quietly as he remembered the information he had found in the library, "Even then, when I resolved to have Hannibal put me forward for the traditional tests... heh."

He smiled ever so slightly, looking her in the eye as he did so.

"I expected this to be the worst in a lot of ways. Physically, mentally and spiritually draining so that I know how to resist those same forms of strife in the future." His smile stayed put but it was less genuine happiness and slightly sad instead, "I am the steel of a blade not yet finished being forged - this will either temper me or it will bend me."

It wouldn't break him though - that much he was certain of, that much he clung to tightly. He would not be broken even if he did end up failing whatever trial she had in store for him.

@Phoenix

 

[Zathria]

As he looked into her eyes to respond to her question, he would see a great deal about the woman who was administering the trial for him. She was young and still learning much about being a healer, but there was a reserved, almost old look in her eyes. Not quite grim, but serious. And yet, there was a certain life there, perhaps even warmth that lay beneath the surface.

She nodded as she listened to him explain what he knew of the Trial. It had changed much over the generations, and Zathria's own master had had a slightly different take on it than the days of the old Order.

Well, you're not going to have to go through "the burning," she said, referencing the ritual of the ancient Jedi. Perhaps that would provide a certain small amount of comfort.

Pain, hardship... loss, she said.

This Trial is about overcoming those things. It's about being a Jedi even when things are at their worst. We're Jedi always. Not just when things are easy, but when we're at our lowest, she said and then stopped and smirked a bit.

Okay, I'm lecturing a bit. I'll stop, she said. Sometimes when she was passionate about something it just kind of... came out.

I assume you were taught to sustain yourself with the Force? she asked. Although advanced forms of it were the skills of masters, basic uses such as sustaining oneself for limited time without food, water, or even air were typically skills taught as introduction to most Padawans. Control of one's own body was one of the first tenets taught to a Jedi. Still, clarification of his use of the skill was important before the explanation of the trial continued.

 

[Crix Aran]

Well thank the Force he wasn't going to have to go through that barbaric ancient ritual practice. Sometimes, reading through the histories of the Jedi, Crix was amazed that they were somehow still considered the "Good Guys". By his estimation, some of the time it was solely because the Sith were still worse. It didn't paint a flattering picture of the Old Jedi Order and he was able to understand Hannibal's disdain for the old ways.

Even if she hadn't flat out told him, however, Crix would have had a reasonable idea that she wouldn't do it anyway. The look he could see in her eyes wasn't as cold as it could be, certainly didn't seem cold enough to be the type to administer that. She seemed almost protective in her fierceness from what he could see though he refrained from connecting to her with the Force. He knew that when he did he would trigger one of his own memories and he could use that for insight but he refused.

It wasn't really polite.

He smiled a little bit wider.

"We are judged not by what we do in the light of day, but by what we do in the dark when no one but us would know."

Crix had amassed quite a few quotes of the same ilk from the library sessions. Or, rather, from the library sources he'd managed to steal from the library back when the librarian had been distracted. He nodded once, bringing himself back to the present and answering Zathria's question at the same time. Force Sustenance was one of the first things he had been taught, mainly to help him strengthen his body's natural growth so that he could work harder but still.

@Phoenix

 

[Zathria]

Zathria smirked slightly at his quote, seeming to appreciate it. It wasn't wrong, and it perhaps had a bit more to do with what he was going to endure than he expected.

Hopefully you won't need it, but just in case, she said about the use of the Force to sustain himself. She had to admit that she had crutched on it a bit during her trial, however.

She reached out with the Force and levitated the helmet over to be directly in front of him. He would quickly realize that his was not your typical helmet. It held no viewport or eye holes and had some sort of breathing filter built into it. He would also note that it had a neck portion that would tighten around the neck, not in strangulation or anything so barbaric, but in a similar way to a flight suit's seal. By her estimations, he should still be able to fit into it even with the horns on his head.

Before you leave the room, you'll put this on. And once you put it on, you won't be able to see or hear anything from the outside world, she said. Closer inspection would reveal that there was also a pair of earphones that would quite efficiently cancel out any sound. It wasn't quite sensory deprivation as he would still be able to feel things, but it was awfully close. The deprivation was one of several layers within the Trial.

In order to pass the trial, you have to to find a way to provide meaningful help to someone with the helmet on. Once you put it on you won't be allowed to take it off for the duration of the trial, either, she said. And now it would become clear why she had asked him about sustaining himself. It could often take hours or days to acclimate to the helmet, and that time spent without food, water, or sleep could become quite taxing. But it could also strengthen one's connection to the Force. It forced one to rely on skills previously untapped, and helped a person understand what it meant to be a Jedi even when a portion of yourself was lost.

I'll remain with you throughout the trial, although my primary role will be to make sure you don't hurt yourself or someone else, she explained. The last thing they needed was a soon-to-be Knight accidentally walking into the backblast of a ship in take off or stumbling into a sparring room and having their head removed by a lightsaber.

Do you have any questions? she asked.

 

[Crix Aran]

Hopefully he wouldn't need it? Well damn that sounded ominous as all hell when she said it like that - seriously well delivered too actually. He hoped he learned how to deliver lines with such unspoken weight behind them when he was a Jedi Knight because that seemed like a really cool skill. Knowing his luck it wasn't something taught but something that Zathria herself was just naturally very talented at.

He just answered with a grin about not needing it rather than speaking. Was it a grin to say not to worry about him? To say that he hoped so too? Or was it to try and banish the last of his nerves? Perhaps a little bit of all of them.

As she explained about the nature of the trial itself, he was ashamed that his first thought was about how he was going to go to the bathroom with two of his senses gone and Zathria following him around. He answered his own question, however, when he remembered that part of using the Force to sustain himself would involve essentially keeping his body in a form of stasis. Still able to move, to think and feel but with certain biological parts simply shut down as the Force took care of them all instead.

Taking the helmet in both hands, he held it in silence for a moment before the smile came back, soft and a little bit tentative as he spoke his thoughts aloud.

"Its heavier than I thought it would be..."

He wasn't just talking about the helmet and they both knew it.

Still, he took a deep breath and closed his eyes for a moment. Still with his eyes closed, he gripped the sides of the helmet slightly harder.

"How long did it take you?"

@Phoenix

 

[Zathria]

She watched as he took up the helmet in his hands, commenting on how heavy it was. She knew what he meant and she finally let her kinder instincts creep through. There was a gentle smile but it was still somehow serious.

You'll be fine, she said with a slow, reassuring nod. She truly believed it, too. He wouldn't have been put forward if he wasn't ready.

Remember what you've learned, and trust the Force, she said. Without it, this would be nigh impossible.

She could see him grip the helmet a bit tighter and she didn't even have to reach out to the Force to sense the passive tension in the air. She didn't push him or rush him because she knew how difficult this was.

She paused a moment when he asked how long it had taken her. She wasn't sure that it was wise to tell him as it might only make him more nervous, but then decided that not telling him might make it even worse.

Almost two days, she finally said. The hardest part was finding someone who really needed "meaningful" help. The worst part, however, was the disorientation. Minutes stretched into hours into days with no way of knowing how long or when it would end. It was... a trial.

I wish that were more reassuring, but remember that you can do anything for three days, she said. It was true. It was temporary and then it would be over. And he would come out of it a different person.

 

[Crix Aran]

Well Crix wasn’t going to back down from a challenge – especially not one he had actually, literally, asked for. Sure, Zathria had put her own, slightly terrifying, spin on the whole thing but he had been expecting her to do that. This was exactly what he asked for without the disadvantage of being something he expected.

Taking a deep breath, he brought the helmet up to the top of his head. He held it there for a moment, pausing as he gave himself a last moment to mentally prepare himself for what he was about to experience. About to experience for a couple of days at least. The reminder that it would be continuous for those days hit home again and he felt a small urge to toss the helmet away.

So, instead, he forced a grin and gave Zathria a wink.

“Be seeing you.”

Pulling the helmet down over his head, his sight was the first thing to go but his hearing remained, muffled, until the helmet was fully on. Once it was fully in place, the bottom of the helmet retracted, moulding itself to the shape of his neck to make it nearly airtight. There were a few seconds of panic when he wasn’t sure if he would be able to breathe.

Thankfully he was able to breathe, feeling the filter attached to the front of the helmet work entirely silent. No noisy respirators for him to focus on, he was lost in the silent dark with only the sound of his own hearts to keep him company. Taking as deep a breath as he dared, Crix began to focus on the Force, drawing it in on himself to reinforce himself, to keep himself calm and to regulate his body.

He could still feel things so that was a start and he could still feel that he was sat down… he wasn’t going to end up finding anyone to help if he just sat in the silent dark in a room off the beaten path. Standing without being able to see or hear was a… challenge. Zathria would be able to see it from the outside as Crix first got to his hands and knees before pushing himself up to his feet properly.

He wobbled on his feet slightly before giving the general direction of Zathria a thumbs up.

What could possibly go wrong?

--

Several hours of almost colliding with people in the halls of the Yavin temple later, Crix was beginning to think the entire exercise was going to develop his Force Sight beyond anything he had ever experienced in the past. The vague outlines of shapes was useful, though it was hard in that it seemed to work best with the hard edges of stone.

He had barely avoided some other Jedi, moving out of the way at the last second as he listened to the Force. Sometimes he only knew he’d had a bare miss by the fact that he could feel them brush up against him.

Crix had had the vague idea to head on over to the halls of healing but, well, he didn’t actually know the way very well even with his eyesight. Tutting underneath his breath, he took a moment to try and concentrate beneath the almost deafening sound of his hearts beating. Reaching out with the Force and just… listened.

… pain…

Huh.

Reaching out with the Force, Crix’s mind brushed against Zathria’s own. She had been close at hand for hours now so he was already becoming almost intimately familiar with how she felt in the Force. As his own connection touched against hers he projected a question.

“Does it matter if they are sentient or not?”

@Phoenix

 

[Zathria]

Zathria could see and feel the hesitation. She'd felt it as well, but he went forward nonetheless. He gave her a final comment and she nodded at him.

I'll be here, she said. And she would be. Every step of the way. She watched as the darkness swallowed him and he remained for a few moments. She didn't expect him to get up right away as acclimating could take time, but he was pushing himself up fairly quickly.

He gave a thumb up in her direction and she finally allowed herself a smile. The truth was that despite not saying anything, she was surprisingly familiar with Crix. Throughout her days as a Jedi she'd looked up to his mother as a bit of a role model. The woman was fearless and had stood against the Sith. She'd regretted that she wasn't personally at Sullust. And yet, she'd said nothing about it to Crix. She didn't know if the Padawan - hopefully soon to be Knight - had struggled with living in his mother's shadow. But he was making a name for himself, it seemed, and she hoped he would do great things.

---​

Crix had managed to make it out of the room, and things were going decently so far. He'd only collided with a few people, but some of the Masters recognized what was going on and nodded Zathria's way as she trailed a few meters behind Crix.

She could sense Crix's mind probing hers almost as if looking for an anchor point, but she didn't withdraw from him. She knew what that was like: being lost in a tossing sea and looking for anything to hold onto.

And he had managed to pick up on the first trick that had managed to bring her through the trial as well: telepathy.

She heard or sensed his question projected through the Force and paused a moment, frowning. It wasn't a question she had particularly anticipated, and unfortunately for Crix, she gave the most unhelpful, Jedi-like answer that one could imagine.

It's about meaningful help, she replied. It wasn't really an answer to the question per se, but that was because the test was not really about objectively right and wrong answers. He could do whatever he chose to do, and the choices would be evaluated when the trial was over for better or worse.

 

[Crix Aran]

It was about meaningful help.

Which was, he was sure Zathria knew, supremely unhelpful. Still, he couldn’t find it in himself to be annoyed at her about it. As much as she was there to help guide him, the trial was his own to face so she couldn’t be expected to give up too much of the training to him. Clicking his tongue within the confines of the helmet had an odd effect of giving him a relatively loud sound inside the helmet of his own making.

Just to reassure himself that he could still hear things, that it was the helmet dampening his senses and not a loss of said senses. It was the distinction that helped him avoid any lingering sense of panic that threatened to come back up.

“Hope you’re wearing your walking boots Zathria… sorry…”

Because he was going to follow the trail, follow the Pain that he had sensed.

--

Over a day had passed and Crix kept walking through a combination of the Force providing him sustenance and stubbornness. He had tripped his way through the jungle growth without complaint even as he inched ever closer to the source of the pain that he had detected through the Force.

Unknown to him but clear to Zathria, he was heading in the direction of Wetyin’s Colony.

Specifically to one of the homesteads around the outskirts of the Colony, a farm that had been established in the area to farm the local cow-analog. Crix didn’t actually know what they were called but he knew well enough that they gave decent meat and cool-looking leather.

Legend had it that Poe’s leather jacket had been made from the local leather here.

What Crix was able to feel though was the pain, growing clearer as he approached. Worse, it was becoming more widespread, as though it was being shared by dozens of different creatures. Another spike of it hit him and Crix would feel the more complex emotions of a human; grief and anger and despair.

Unbeknownst to Crix, he walked straight past the local farmer, standing there with his blaster rifle at the edge of his property,

“Hey, young’un!” the farmer called out, “You can’t go in there – the whole farm is infested with Piranha Beetles!”

Indeed there was a large swarm of Piranha Beetles circling the farmstead’s main buildings, harassing the farmer’s runyips. Some of the cattle were already dead, others dying and many more just injured as the carnivorous beetles tore chunks from them.

Crix walked into the middle of the feeding frenzy and just stood there, still, for a moment.

The farmer turned to Zathria.

“This some kind of Jedi practical joke or something? Those Beetles can strip a Runyip bull to the bone in minutes – what’s this all about?”

@Phoenix

 

[Zathria]

Zathria had brought along some food and water, but had opted not to use it throughout the trial. Instead, she used the Force to sustain herself as well.

She wasn't sure where Crix was going or what he intended, but she followed not far after him. As they exited the temple, the danger of him dying of unforseen problems went up, but she wasn't too worried about that. Right?

Heading out into the jungle after nearly a full day reminded her of her own trial as well. Crix was perhaps more like her than she had expected, though precisely where his path would take him had yet to be revealed.

On arrival to a homestead of some sort, Zathria frowned, her eyes scanning over the area before spotting the farmer with the blaster. She tried to keep one eye on Crix and one eye on the farmer as he shouted at Crix only to be - understandably - ignored.

Instead, Zathria held up her hands to the man to show that she meant no trouble.

No, it's no joke, I assure you, she said. I believe he intends to help you with your cattle and beetle troubles, she said. What precisely he would do, she didn't know, but she was understandably a bit worried about a Padawan being eaten by flesh-eating beetles on her watch. That would not have been good for so many reasons. She was more tense than she would have admitted.

 

[Crix Aran]

Piranha Beetles.

Crix figured out that he was walking into Piranha Beetles because he felt their Hunger through the Force so incredibly keenly. All around him he felt the pain of the creatures they were trying to devour but he knew what he had to do. He had to stay calm, he had to accept that they could kill him in a few minutes work before remaining calm regardless.

It was something he knew Jedi had to do, to accept that what they were about to do was potentially deadly and to do it anyway with unflappable calm and determination. Reaching out with his right hand, he held his right arm out fully extended, exposing the flesh of his arm as the fabric pulled up along his skin.

The Hunger started up, directed at him and Crix did not panic because he had the Force as his ally and through the Force? All manner of things were possible.

Reaching into the Force as the swarm approached him, he drew in their Hunger and their instincts, taking the urges from them as he pushed into the tiny minds of dozens of the beetles at once. Animal Friendship was a Light Side power that garnered a lot of scorn from Sith and even the more militant of the Jedi Order. They derided the technique as useless but Crix was only alive as the beetles began to land all the way along his outstretched arm because of that same technique.

They were Friends.

The Hunger took a back seat to the desires of the Friendship they felt as they settled all along his arm. Once angry buzzing of wings began to die down as the carnivorous beetles settled down, docile, along his arm, up his shoulder and even atop and around the helmet. Every beetle that had begun to infest the farmers homestead rested on the young Jedi.

Said farmer just stared.

“Mother of pearl…” he muttered, shaking his head as he inched closer to the cattle, as though afraid moving quickly would disturb the beetles, “Bessie, come here girl…”

As the farmer started to tend to the wounds of his cattle, Crix carefully started walking away. There was a series of trees further into the woods he could sense was an opportunity to relieve himself of his self-imposed burden.

“Their legs tickle.” He projected to Zathria even as sweat began to roll down his brow from the mental strain of keeping so many of them friendly, peaceful, as he moved, “Not much further… I don’t know if I can but I have to try.”

@Phoenix

 

[Zathria]

Zathria did her absolute best to keep her tensions in check while she watched the beetles land along Crix's arm. She knew that being a Jedi meant she was supposed to be fearless and without emotion, but that was hard sometimes.

She was silent as she watched. She watched Crix make a connection to the creatures, watched them settle across his arms and head, and watched the farmer's shock. And she couldn't quite keep from smiling. Smiling in pride - though she didn't have much right to it seeing as she hadn't trained him at all - and smiling at the farmer's mix of shock and relief.

She watched Crix begin to move off, remaining a safe distance away. She really didn't like bugs, especially not the flesh-eating kind.

Her face scrunched up a bit as he told her that their legs tickled - a mental picture she didn't really need - but she kept herself focused.

You can. The Force can. Trust the Force, she replied. Its power could easily carry one through situations that seemed insurmountable alone.

@Nefieslab

 

[Crix Aran]

Crix didn’t mean to freak Zathria out, to be honest he didn’t really have a way to know that he had. Despite brushing up against her mind to project words, he was doing his best to not connect too deeply in case it jeopardized his ability to keep the beetles under control. Even sparing the mental energy to project a message into her mind had some of the beetles becoming agitated.

One of them actually bit him… actually it felt like more than one.

Hissing in pain, Crix pushed down on the sensation of pain hard with his mental discipline. The beetle in question calmed down slightly after the initial bite due to Crix clamping down harder with his control and Friendship over the carnivorous creatures.

Still, he came to a physical stop, his free hand groping blindly under it rested against a tree. Standing perfectly still, Crix did his best to regulate his suddenly harried breathing as he pushed through the pain, not letting it take control of his mind.

Blood ran freely down his arm and he did his best to ignore how it got slightly harder to clamp down on their instinct to feed when there was blood involved.

He rested against the tree for a few seconds before pushing on, continuing on his trek towards the goal he had felt through the Force. Reaching a clearing with a larger than average tree in the centre, Crix wavered in place before throwing his hand up toward the tree, giving the beetles one last mental command as he did so.

The beetles took flight as one, crossing the distance to the large tree as they obeyed his mental command to combat the local termite population to take over the large tree and the surrounding area – several hundred meters from even the boundary of the farmer’s land.

With the beetles gone, Zathria would be able to see that Crix had a good dozen marks along the length of his arm from fingers to shoulder, where the beetles had taken their signature, aggressive, bites from his flesh. Staggering away from the tree for a couple of steps, Crix reached out for Zathria’s mind.

“They’ve got a new home where no one will come and disturb them… all creatures deserve something like that… right?”

He wouldn’t wait for a response, the blood loss and the effort of keeping so many angry creatures (mostly) docile took its toll and Crix fell, face-forward, to the ground. Good thing he was wearing a helmet even as he began to lightly snore.

@Phoenix

 

[Zathria]

Zathria was now very nervous. She could sense the agitation in the creatures and what was worse, she could see the drips of blood that slowly fell away from his bug-covered arm.

She very, very nearly pulled the plug on the trial for fear that he might be seriously injured or killed, but she narrowly suppressed the instinct as they reached the clearing. And then he managed to clear the bugs. They leapt into the air and flew high, covering the tree within moments.

She was going to congratulate him on his accomplishment or something when he turned to her, "spoke," and then flopped to the ground.

Oh, no, no, no, she said, darting forward to check on him. She rolled him over off of his face, pulling the helnmet free and checking his pulse. Everything fell into a rhythm as training took over.

ABCs, she said in her mind, checking that they were all intact. Blood loss? He shouldn't have lost that much blood, surely? Vasovagal? Toxin? Either was possible.

Her eyes flipped up to the tree and the beetles but they didn't seem worried about either Jedi now.

She forced her own emotions and fears aside, letting herself slide into the mindset of an objective healer. Someone who had spent years training for this exact thing. She closed her eyes and held his arm at the wrist before extending her other arm so that her palm hovered just over the injured flesh.

She let the Force flow out from her, drawing from the world all around her. She envisioned the wounds closing. The cells knitting themselves back together and the ions returning to their containment eve if it defied the laws of physics. Such was the way of the Force.

One at a time, they closed and within several minutes, the arm was fresh and new. She let out a heavy breath, feeling the fatigue of the action pulling at her as she ran a hand up through her hair.

Okay... she said and sighed again. He's not dead. Okay. That's good, she mumbled. And then she stopped and quirked an eyebrow. She didn't want to stay here by the beetles, but he was bigger than her.

She grunted in annoyance and hoisted him into a fireman carry. Really, the Force was taking most of the weight, and by the time she had made it a little over a hundred meters and gone back for the helmet, she plopped down against a tree.

She didn't know how long he'd be unconscious for, but she certainly couldn't carry him back to the temple. And it was getting dark. Great. Perhaps they could stay with the farmer for the night if all went poorly.

Her stomach grumbled, and she realized that she was hungry and tired from the last day. The exertion of carrying and healing him had taken its toll on top of the sustenance. She started popping some granola before sleep took her as well.

 

[Crix Aran]

Waking up groggily, Crix hissed as he reached over to his right arm. There were phantom pains all the way along the limb from the bites he had suffered from the Piranha Beetles. They were phantom pains only because he was aware that he wasn't actually scarred or actively bleeding anymore - it looked like he had been healed because his arm was smooth and, relatively, unblemished. There were so small scars where he had been bitten but they looked to have been closed up well enough that they looked more like shallow cuts from thorns or something.

Rather than evidence that he had been in real danger of being eaten alive by carnivorous beetles.

Of course it was upon seeing his own arm and the small scars that Crix became more aware of the fact that he could, indeed, see and the helmet was off. It was beginning to get rather dark as the sun was beginning to set but he wasn't entirely sure what to do about it. He could see Zathria dozing against a tree with the helmet in her lap but he didn't know what had really happened - had he failed?

Had he used the Force to take the helmet off when he had been swaying? He remembered swaying after he had sent the beetles on their way but he wasn't sure what he did. Everything kind of just went a bit fuzzy before he didn't remember any more and he was suddenly waking up. He could see about trying to make it back to the Temple but he wasn't about to risk carrying Zathria the whole way back to the Temple in the dark.

If the crystal snakes didn't get him, some of the other predators surely might - not to mention the Gammorean guards who protected the Temple were getting trigger happy what with the war ramping up. So, instead, Crix opted for the slightly less dangerous option.

He started gently shaking Zathria with a hand on her shoulder.

"Hey... hey Knight Zathria... you alright?"

He realy hoped she could wake up - it would mean he wouldn't have to make a decision about how to try and carry her. There weren't many ways to carry a woman who was your superior that weren't problematic in some way.

@Phoenix

 

[Zathria]

Zathria sighed as she came back to consciousness. Although the wilds weren't the best place to fall asleep, it just ended up that way sometimes. The fact that Crix was awake and alive was a good sign as well and she reached a hand up to rub her eyes for a moment as she tried to remember all that had gone on and why she was sleeping against a tree.

It all came flooding back a moment later and her heart jumped a bit.

Crix! she exclaimed. Yes, yes, I'm fine. Are you okay? she asked, looking over at his arm to make sure that he was still fine.

Her eyes flicked up to the sky that was growing dark and she grimaced. The temple was still a fair distance away and she was uncertain about imposing on the farmer even if they had supplied aid to him. If they could make it back to the temple, they probably should.

Are you healthy enough to travel? she asked, pushing herself back up. She still felt tired, but fine.

Here, she said, holding out a small bag of granola for him to break into. He hadn't eaten in hours as well, and that would quickly wear on him.

 

[Crix Aran]

Oh that whatever gods were still listening to his whining that Zathria was alright. He would have really screwed the Bantha if, during the course of his trial, he had gotten the supervising Knight hurt. It would, however, be somewhat more likely given his own experiences – things tended to go bad in a big way around him if they went bad at all. Passing out wasn’t the worst thing that could happen though he supposed.

Breathing out a sigh of relief when she woke up, Crix chuckled a little bit. Wasn’t that just so Jedi? First thing they both do after waking up is to check on the other one. He made a fist with his right hand, showing how his right arm still worked. She was the one who had healed it (only person here who could) so he figured she wanted to check on her handiwork.

There was a joke there but he was too tired to make it.

“Yeah I’m alright – tired but alright.” He grinned at her brightly, “Thanks for helping with my arm… don’t think I’d look so good with holes in me.”

Travelling back to the Temple with the two of them under their own power was much more possible than one of them carrying the other. He chuckled a little bit but nodded even as he accepted one of her granola bars.

“I think I can make it.” He assured her, “Want me to put the helmet back on? I’m not entirely sure how it came off… I didn’t take it off did I?”

Stumbling into a tired walk toward the temple, he munched absently on the granola bar, pausing for a moment as he tasted it.

“Huh… are you a mom, Zathria? Cus this is a total mom move.” He gestured with his granola bar with a soft grin, “Not a jab by the way… nothing better than a team mom.”

@Phoenix