Braze had run off after his last poor social interaction, and he hadn't gone back to talk to Aris yet. The guilt was eating him up on the inside, but the more time elapsed between then and now, the more it just felt harder to come to terms with and to take action. It was a childish desire to avoid fessing up and avoid that moment of confrontation. It was strange. Typically, Braze rather liked confrontation and sometimes even enjoyed being a pest, but this was different. He felt bad about his actions and didn't know how to approach Aris to apologize. He knew what he'd done was wrong, but somehow admitting it verbally and apologizing for it just felt incredibly, and painfully awkward... but was avoiding it worth all this guilt? Braze didn't want to think about it; he didn't want to think about any of it. He had other problems on his mind.
He had found a quiet place to gather his thoughts, or so he thought, within the Ashlanti Elysium's grounds amidst the open deck where parts of the large wisteria tree enveloped the large balcony-like room. He decided that perhaps he needed some meditative practice and had fetched what he needed to practice his version of Faalo's Cadences. He had meticulously set out the candle and the orbs before gathering his saber and trying to connect with the crystal.
In the quiet sanctum of this room, Braze stood alone, save for the presence of his lightsaber, its Kyber crystal pulsing with a soft, teal glow. The room was dimly lit, shadows dancing along the walls as the flicker of candlelight played against the darkness. It was here, in this secluded space, that Braze sought solace from the turmoil that churned within him.
He approached the slack line, a thin ribbon of possibility stretched tight across the room. With a deep breath that seemed to draw the quiet of the room into his lungs, Braze stepped onto the line, his body tensing, then relaxing into the rhythm of Faalo's Cadences.
The acrobatic dance began, a silent
conversation between Braze and the crystal within his saber. Each movement was a word, each leap a sentence, weaving together a narrative of struggle, fear, and the quest for understanding. The saber, an extension of his arm, moved with precision and grace, its light casting shadows that mirrored his emotions.
"I feel small... weak," Braze confessed to the void, his movements sharp and erratic, a physical manifestation of his inner turmoil. The crystal, responded not with words but with a calming influence, a gentle embrace that sought to soothe the tempest within.
As the dance progressed, Braze's thoughts turned to Aris, to the conflict that had left a bitter taste in his mouth.
"I said things I regret," he admitted, part of his silent conversation being given breath and real voice breaking his silence at certain moments. His cadence quickening, the strikes of his saber more forceful, echoing the intensity of his remorse. The crystal absorbed his confession, offering back a sense of peace, a reminder to reflect, to seek understanding beyond the heat of anger.
"Why was I so aggressive?" Braze pondered, his movements becoming introspective, a slow, deliberate exploration of his own fears. The crystal, ever patient, seemed to guide him towards an answer, its glow a constant, comforting presence in the shifting shadows.
The heart of his struggle lay in the loss of control, the fear that his dreams were now beyond his reach. Yet, as he moved, conversing with the crystal, he was reminded of the resilience of dreams, the potential for new paths to emerge from the ashes of old ones.
This was the balance between accepting his limitations and recognizing his strengths and coming to terms of what he could and couldn't control...