Private A Return to the Temple | The Weight of Expectation

[Ilaria Morvayne]

Opening Post – "The Weight of Expectation"

Chapter One - A Return to the Temple
Kellen Mynn

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Jedi Temple, Coruscant
Training Room – Midnight

The training chamber was silent save for the rhythmic hum of a lightsaber cutting through the darkness. Pale blue light cast flickering shadows against the durasteel walls, illuminating the sharp, deliberate movements of a lone figure.

Ilaria Morvayne moved with precision, her blade carving controlled arcs through the air. Each step, each pivot, each strike was measured—Makashi executed to near perfection. Yet there was no satisfaction in the motion. Only repetition. Only frustration.

Her breathing remained steady, her stance unshaken. But her thoughts—the ones she could not quiet—burned beneath the surface.

This was not the Enclave.

The Coruscant Temple, for all its grandeur, was tainted. The Jedi here were undisciplined, too eager to embrace compromise, to weave sentiment into the Code as if it had always belonged there. They called themselves Jedi, but Ilaria had seen the cracks beneath their words. She had heard the debates—Jedi questioning their own Order, questioning their own purpose. As if the Jedi could be anything but what they were meant to be.

At the Enclave, there had been clarity. Purpose. Structure.

Here, there was only… noise.

Her blade flicked outward in a precise flourish, a textbook riposte. It should have felt grounding. It did not.

She exhaled sharply, deactivating the saber with a flick of her wrist. The chamber dimmed instantly, leaving only the artificial glow of the ceiling lights overhead. Her grip on the hilt tightened.

She did not want to be here.

She did not want to listen to these wayward Jedi who had forsaken discipline for indulgence, who mistook flexibility for wisdom. The Temple deserved better. The Order deserved better.

I deserve better.

Ilaria turned toward the viewport, the vast sprawl of Coruscant gleaming beyond the transparisteel. From here, she could see the city stretching endlessly into the horizon, the lights blinking like stars trapped beneath the durasteel sky. It was a world that never slept, a world that had long since abandoned silence.

Much like the Jedi here.

Her mind drifted back to the last day at the Enclave. The final conversation with Master Ralorin.

"You are stronger than they are. Never forget that."

She had not forgotten. She had carried those words with her, held them tightly in her mind with every empty discussion, every misguided Jedi who dared to suggest the Code was anything but absolute.

And yet…

She had heard Shan Pavond speak. She had heard Braze.

And for the first time, she had not been able to immediately dismiss them.

Her fingers curled into a fist.

She had control.

She had discipline.

She would not waver.

The Enclave had trained her better than that.

And yet, standing here alone in the vastness of Coruscant, watching the city stretch beyond what she could see, the weight of the Order pressing down upon her—

For just a moment, she wished she were anywhere else.

​

 

[Kellen Mynn]

Jedi Temple, Coruscant
Weapons: Link & Link
Outfit: Link
Tag: Ilaria Morvayne

The Jedi Master strode through the halls of the Temple on Coruscant with an ease only experience in the art of patience could show. It was not often he returned to the core.
Mainly he was always off into the wider galaxy hopping from one battlefield to the next. It was rather rare the Alliance stopped having to fight, either offensively or on the defensive. Rare he had time to sort of...bask in the calm of things. But this was turning into one of those times.

He exhaled slowly, allowing himself to enjoy this respite before going to accept his new orders in the morning. Soon he would be headed back to his starship to seek out yet another warzone. As while he was indeed a Jedi, his skills were often best deployed alongside soldiers of the Alliance. Something his long years of service no doubt endearing him to Alliance brass.

That, however, never stopped him from taking time for himself and enjoying these moments of quiet introspection. One should never lose themselves to the chaos of the galaxy. And it was on one of these nights that he wandered the halls. Enjoying the lesser amount Jedi walking about at this time save for the Sentinels.

Kellen walked the halls in his daily Jedi grab when not wearing his armor. Though his robes were cleaned and pressed one could still see the wear and tear that only came with extensive travel. He wasn't as...polished, as most Jedi that remained here on Coruscant were. It was clear he was one of action rather than reaction. It only ever pained him to remain in such civilization for long.

He always felt so ineffectual from here. Like he was accomplishing no change. Only ever reacting to it.

As lost in thought as he were his confident but slow steps faltered as he crossed near the entry to one of many training rooms within the Temple. And here he folded his arms across his chest and simply watched the young woman apply her craft.

Her form was exquisite. And as a expert on Form II he immediately recognized the precise and quick movements of Makashi. On the surface, one would not fault such practiced skill. For on the surface, she was talented. She did everything by the book.

For a man like Kellen though? He could see the issue.
She was rigid.

"You're distracted."

The low bass of his voice carried through the empty chamber and echoed to the one whom he addressed.

"You have skill. Make no mistake. But you're focused elsewhere. Had you been dueling I would simply swap to Forms IV or V and overwhelm you." Kellen entered the hall and joined alongside her as she gazed upon the ever awake planet. "A view for some. All I see is complacency."

Kellen gazed about the skyline in thought for a moment before gazing to look upon his new acquaintance.

"Do you think the people of Coruscant feel as conflicted as you do right now? Wondering when the next warmonger will bring the next batch of destruction to their otherwise boring lives."

​

 

[Ilaria Morvayne]

Post #2 – "The Weight of Expectation"

Chapter One - A Return to the Temple
Kellen Mynn

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Jedi Temple, Coruscant
Training Room – Midnight

The moment he spoke, Ilaria understood.

This was not a lesson in technique.

This was not about the precision of her blade, the angle of her stance, or the perfection of her footwork.

Kellen's words had cut deeper than any training saber.

"You're distracted."

The accusation—so calmly delivered, so unshakably certain—grated against her instincts. Not because he was wrong, but because he had seen it so easily.

Ilaria did not turn to face him immediately. Instead, she let the silence stretch between them, watching the restless glow of Coruscant beyond the viewport. The city was alive in a way she found distasteful. Constant movement, ceaseless chatter. It lacked the discipline of the Enclave.

Much like the Jedi here.

Much like herself, in this moment.

Her grip on the training saber tightened.

"You have skill. But you're focused elsewhere."

A flick of her thumb reactivated the blade, pale blue light casting sharp shadows along the chamber's walls.

She turned her head just enough to meet his gaze.

"Form IV or V?" she repeated, voice smooth, measured. "You would choose brute force to break through a lack of focus."

A calculated pause.

"A pragmatic decision."

The saber in her hand remained still, but her posture had shifted—just slightly, just enough. Feet grounded, weight balanced. The stance of a duelist preparing for engagement, yet restrained.

She did not need to swing her weapon to make a statement.

And then, finally, she turned fully to face him, her emerald gaze sharp beneath the artificial light.

"Do you believe discipline is weakness, Master Jedi?"

Not an insult. Not a challenge. A test.

She wanted to know what kind of Jedi he was.

Because she had met many here who mistook adaptability for wisdom. Who confused fluidity with strength. Who compromised, who bent, who yielded.

Ilaria did not yield.

"Do you think the people of Coruscant feel as conflicted as you do right now?"

A different kind of challenge, one she was not so quick to counter.

Her silence stretched just a breath longer than before.

Then, with the same precise motion, she deactivated the blade once more.

"Perhaps not," she admitted. "Perhaps they are content in their ignorance. But we are not civilians, Master Jedi. We do not have the luxury of complacency."

She studied him now—not just his words, but the way he stood, the way he carried himself. Worn robes. The posture of a soldier, not a scholar. A man who did not belong here, despite his presence in the Temple.

That, at least, they shared.

She exhaled, slow and deliberate, letting the weight of the conversation settle into place.

"Complacency is what allowed the Sith to rise time and time again. The Jedi of Coruscant believe they can soften their edges, that they can negotiate their way into survival, love and kindness are used as delusions to aggrandize their sense of morality."

A beat.

"They will learn otherwise."

A statement, not a question.

A belief carved into her very core.

​

 

[Kellen Mynn]

Jedi Temple, Coruscant
Weapons: Lightsaber & Blaster
Outfit: Jedi Robes & Jedi Armor
Tag: Ilaria Morvayne

The artificial light within the room did little to hide the subtle movements of the padawan before him. Everything she did was measured, even her facial features whether she meant to or not. The tightening of grip on her training saber. The calculated looks she gave both himself and the world outside.

This was a fish out of its natural waters. Heh. That amused him. He could certainly relate.

The re-ignition of her blade did not bother him. He simply turned his gaze back towards her and judged her words and movements with the patience and experience only decades could garner a Jedi.

"Brute force has it's uses and it's moments. Though whether I utilized the brutality of Forms IV or V, the precision of Form II or utilize Form III alongside Dun Möch the end result would be the same." He smiled playfully at her, testing if she was studied enough to understand his meaning. "Being able to adapt to your opponent is what is pragmatic."

He watched as she adjusted her stance and shifted her weight ever so slightly. Her words forced but not daring. She was very concise in everything she displayed, verbal or otherwise. He liked that.

"Discipline can be a weakness for some, sure. If used incorrectly. But often times it establishes the foundation for what makes us capable in whatever we decide to do. Discipline is the corner stone of what makes a Jedi Knight and what keeps one a Padawan."

His words were soft but steady. He spoke as if he was speaking a lecture to a class of younglings but also as if he had known them his entire life. Kellen had a way of making others feel at ease, of ridding the conversation of any perceived decorum and formality.

"Your discipline, Padawan, is what will lead you to what you seek. If only you learn how to use it."

As she deactivated her saber once more, Kellen smiled at her words and turned to instead gaze at the Temple outside of the room they stood in. He could see it's entire make up inside his mind. He had visited, trained, studied and taught here in equal measure at this point. Though he dreaded every visit to the ecumenopolis of a planet he would forever cherish the memories made here.

"You're right on that account. Everyone is content in some form of ignorance. For what you're ignorant of can't hurt you, can it?" He chuckled to himself at the thought of that notion. "Ridiculous, isn't it? We Jedi do not have the luxury of such things yet we've built this grand temple on this grand planet for that exact thing. Complacency. Luxury..." Kellen went quiet for a moment before he spoke the last word.
"Entitlement."

The Jedi Master turned to face the Padawan face to face for the first time, his deep blue eyes matching her emerald greens. His gaze was intense but not threatening. Years of experience looking for any sign of an exploit in the woman before him. A natural reaction his years spent in battle have honed into himself.

"Indeed. The Jedi here believe those things. That if they're nice enough or perhaps use enough soft spoken rhetoric they might counter the Sith philosophy of might makes right. Yet for all their politicking our borders remain under assault and our people dying. Enslaved. Their worlds devastated."

Kellen's brows furrowed as he looked out towards the skyline once more, at a world consistently broken to war yet that which refuses to give up.

"Yet we fight still. The Order has many flaws, Padawan, and Jedi are as numerous as our opinions. Yet it isn't the Jedi here that will teach you that which you must know to survive. Not in this galaxy."

The black haired man turned his eyes back to her, striking a dashing and confident smile across his bearded features.

"Master Kellen Mynn, at your service. This conversation has gotten rather dreary, I reckon."

​

 

[Ilaria Morvayne]

Post #3 – "The Weight of Expectation"

Chapter One - A Return to the Temple
Kellen Mynn

---

Jedi Temple, Coruscant
Training Room – Midnight

His words were calculated, but not rigid. Experienced, but not burdened. She had expected a challenge, a rebuttal—a Jedi willing to dismantle her views, to twist philosophy into justification.

Instead, he had offered her something far more dangerous.

Understanding.

Ilaria did not move immediately. She did not offer him the satisfaction of a reaction, nor the concession of agreement. Instead, she let the silence breathe between them, watching the way he carried himself—comfortable, confident, assured in his place within the galaxy.

It was not the poise of a Jedi bound to the Temple's doctrine. It was the bearing of a man who had seen the cracks and chosen to fight despite them.

That unsettled her more than she cared to admit.

"Your discipline is what will lead you to what you seek. If only you learn how to use it."

A lesson disguised as encouragement. A challenge veiled in understanding.

She did not like being seen so clearly.

Her saber remained deactivated in her grasp, but she did not relinquish it. A blade was not merely a weapon—it was an extension of will, of control. The act of holding it was deliberate.

"You assume I do not know how to use it," she finally said, voice measured, poised. "I would argue that discipline without purpose is the true weakness."

Her gaze remained unwavering, her posture unshaken. She would not be tested like a student seeking validation. If Kellen Mynn expected humility, he would find none.

Still, she studied him.

His words echoed the same truths she had seen with her own eyes—the rot of complacency, the illusion of security. Coruscant was a monument to arrogance, a place where Jedi mistook their own inaction for wisdom.

But he did not condemn them, not in the way she expected.

"The Order has many flaws, Padawan, and Jedi are as numerous as our opinions. Yet it isn't the Jedi here that will teach you that which you must know to survive."

A statement of certainty, offered without hesitation.

It would have been easy to dismiss. Easy to refute.

And yet, for the second time in as many days, Ilaria could not immediately do so.

Her grip on the saber hilt tightened.

She exhaled, long and controlled. Then, at last, she inclined her head—not quite a bow, not quite submission, but acknowledgment.

"Ilaria Morvayne," she said, voice even. "Padawan of the Enclave."

There was weight in that distinction.

She let the name settle between them before continuing.

"You are not like the Jedi here," she observed, not as a compliment, nor as a condemnation. "You speak as if you exist outside of them, and yet you still call yourself one of them."

She tilted her head slightly, searching.

"Why?"

A test.

A question of philosophy. Of identity. Of conviction.

If Kellen Mynn had already deemed the Jedi here weak, if he had already seen their failings, why did he remain?

He had offered her wisdom—now she wanted to know if he understood his own.

​

 

[Kellen Mynn]

Jedi Temple, Coruscant
Weapons: Lightsaber & Blaster
Outfit: Jedi Robes & Jedi Armor
Tag: Ilaria Morvayne

Kellen kept his hands clasped behind his back, leisurely, like a soldier awaiting a superior. Dutiful but relaxed. He always carried himself with this stoic bearing but with a easygoing,calming charm to him. It made him stand out among his more...poised fellows among the Order. Something he enjoyed teasing them on just to make them uncomfortable.

His blue eyes gazed down at the saber still tightly grasped within the Padawans hand, watching with amusement as she used it to portray her emotions even while she thought herself doing the opposite.

"And I would poise, Padawan, that discipline is a purpose in of itself. For the very act of attaining it requires drive. And what do you drive for if not purpose? Whether that be tangible, like achieving your preferred version of discipline, or something more...recreational?" Kellen smiled, he was enjoying this debate. "Question is, if you have already achieved discipline...then what is your purpose now?"

A prod. A curiosity. A revelation, perhaps.

Weakness was inherent in all things. But simply having one did not make someone weak. For weakness can be kept yet overcome.

A difference in opinion, perhaps. For if something is overcome then is it really kept? It was internal debates like this that reminded him why he never chose to seat one of the many Master councils within the Order. The endless debate and philosophy was entertaining when warranted but it quickly dulled.

He could see the wheels turning within herself. She was studying his words as much as he did her own. It was a verbal exchange as much as a physical one.

Each of them trying to figure the other out. What they stood for. What they aimed to achieve by being here.

Among the temple? Among the Jedi?

Who did they consider themselves to be? Could identity be so easily quantifiable?

He did, however, note her title. 'Of the Enclave' not the Order or this temple. She was clearly at odds here. Which was to be expected. Many a young padawan had departed their secluded Enclaves to be exposed to grand temples such as this. A culture shock was the least of their worries.

While the Jedi Order allowed certain freedoms to its Enclaves it also created for a bit of...discourse. It was both a strength and a weakness.

Kellen, however, preferred the differentiated views of it's Jedi. Uniformity breeds stagnation and kills imagination among other ideals. Their Order relied on the uniqueness of it's members and their opinions, however volatile that may sometimes be.

Illaria's wonder of him in her question sparked a genuine laugh from the man. It was not often he was directly asked of this and it made him genuinely delighted for someone to be this direct with him. No doubt the only other who had yet to dare was Valery Noble herself.

"Am I not?" Kellen smiled cheerfully, having recovered from his laugh. "Neither are you, from what I have observed. Perhaps that makes us unique. Or maybe it doesn't. Our Order is quite the collective cultural pot."

Kellen turned to fully face Illaria now, thinking on her question for only but a moment before choosing how best to respond.

"In some ways I do exist outside of the Order. Or at least outside it's normal boundaries. My time spent within temples and enclaves are but a fraction of my efforts as a Jedi. I serve in different ways. A purpose I have found that benefits not only myself but those I aid."

Kellen smiles.

"I sometimes disagree with the Council and their decisions. I also sometimes agree with them. I dislike the way of temple Jedi, their complacency and sense of self worth, yet I would also die for any one of them." He pauses for a moment. "I do what I do because I simply believe we're a force for good. At least as good as we can be. That is my current purpose."

"So far, Illaria, I haven't found a better solution to all this mess."

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