Faith Fractured
Why was it that the temple was quiet when it shouldn’t have been? Aeris found her eyes darting along the walls as if she was looking for something. A crack in reality, a tendril that pulled her back to the waking world again despite mounting evidence to the fact that this was it. She passed by the pad and instinctively ran a quick scan of the roster.
Kiffu.
And now Kiskla was dead while Aeris still lived on. Kana Truden, her own temporary master was disillusioned with the cause. Corvus Raaf had been gone for decades by now. There had once even been Aaralyn Rekali, Sword of the Jedi, but she had been the first one to go. Died in a battle, slain by her own side just like the rest of the Republican Jedi had been.
Agh, there was that word again. Sword of the Jedi.
She never told him. Instead he died in her absence while she was moving at a snail’s pace through a catastrophic hyperspace issue. Aeris buried her face to rub at the pressure she felt in her forehead before she took a seat on the landing pad she had come in on. She let in a deep breath of the recycled air and fumes of the city and let her feet dangle over the edge. Aeris knew that all of this was stress talking and that the intrusive thoughts were nothing more than her brain trying to make sense of a mildly traumatic situation.
It didn’t mean that she would be any more capable of handling it. Knowing the causes of a symptom was just a single step when it came to treating an ailment.
Kiffu.
A wide eyed child stares in awe at the grandmaster’s movements. This must have been what it was like to be in control of one’s faculties, she imagined. As Kiskla weaved through the motions on the instructional holovid, all Aeris could do was soak it up. One day, she would be like her. Probably.
And now Kiskla was dead while Aeris still lived on. Kana Truden, her own temporary master was disillusioned with the cause. Corvus Raaf had been gone for decades by now. There had once even been Aaralyn Rekali, Sword of the Jedi, but she had been the first one to go. Died in a battle, slain by her own side just like the rest of the Republican Jedi had been.
Agh, there was that word again. Sword of the Jedi.
A frustrated sigh echoed across the archives accompanied by the clang of the holopad that had acted as messenger as it slid across the wooden surface of her table. Another confrontation with allies, another bad spotlight put on the New Jedi Order and the Jedi as a whole because the politically nominated Sword wasmore intent on being blunt than he was sharp. He could throw his title around all that he wanted, it didn’t mean a single thing if he didn’t make it a thing to be proud of. Maybe one day, she would have the courage to tell him that.
She never told him. Instead he died in her absence while she was moving at a snail’s pace through a catastrophic hyperspace issue. Aeris buried her face to rub at the pressure she felt in her forehead before she took a seat on the landing pad she had come in on. She let in a deep breath of the recycled air and fumes of the city and let her feet dangle over the edge. Aeris knew that all of this was stress talking and that the intrusive thoughts were nothing more than her brain trying to make sense of a mildly traumatic situation.
It didn’t mean that she would be any more capable of handling it. Knowing the causes of a symptom was just a single step when it came to treating an ailment.
“Got tired of pretending to be better than the other side.” The memory of Master Truden echoed. “Too much talking and fighting. There are no winners to this war as long as both sides need each other to validate the existence of the other.”