Like Father, Like Daughter [Teynara Jeralyr]

[Nina Heavenshield]

Nina was enjoying the afternoon in the lush gardens of the Silver Temple. She loved watching the springtime buds bloom into a wide array of colours every summer, each specimen more beautiful than the last. She refrained from picking any of them, but rather enjoyed help watering them whenever able. The gardeners of Voss couldn't be given enough credit for the overall feel of the temple.

On this specific occasion she'd brought her brushes and her paints, as well as an easel. Having painted since before she could remember, her skill had improved significantly over the years. The brush danced lightly across the white surface of the canvas, painting her surroundings with loving detail. She always had an affinity for bright and bold colours, and the gardens this time of year was just that.

Her mind thought back to the many times when a toddler by the name of [member="Théodred Heavenshield"] would step on her drying paintings, leaving his tiny footprint as his signature. Nina never took offense, but mother didn't exactly seem to appreciate having to clean footprints off the floor...

[member="Teynara Jeralyr"]​

 

[Teynara Jeralyr]

[member="Nina Heavenshield"]

Her hoverchair softly floating on repulsorlifts, Teynara found herself turning once more into the brightly-lit gardens that served to all but surround the Academy. It seemed a little odd to her, in some ways, for it to be like this: a training building of pragmatic purpose, surrounded by flowers, bushes and trees that had a purely aesthetic purpose. They seem at odds, but the nature of our ways seems to blend them in far better than they otherwise might. In truth, the only thing about the scene that felt wrong was the technological device she was currently sitting in. That part contrasted in the worst way, and it still rankled that she'd be stuck in it for a little while.

Even with her odd turn of thoughts, she couldn't help but think that the gardens looked pretty at this time of year: some of the trees just starting to bloom leaves of soft green, rich reds and pastel orange, recovering after the winter chill that had caused them to shed their leaves and draw upon their internal reserves to survive while the sun could not nourish them. Now that the snows had retreated and the winter chill had been replaced with a warming breeze, life was stirring again. You could feel it, if you took a moment: like a breeze floating over grass, the soft motion of a stream flowing gently downhill, energy whispering everywhere, finding every crack and crevice.

She smiled, her face relaxing a little, the tension melting away. Her mind had felt little more than frustration during her period of recovery: it was hard to take such a thing gracefully, as much as she tried. Healers make the worst patients. The blonde knew herself to be a prime example of that, but the stress that was perhaps hindering her recovery a little always seemed to fade when she was here. There was just something so serene about it - it really was impossible not to feel the influence of it.

A sudden shock of energy burst upon her consciousness, not in some shocking fashion, merely a burst of light within a room of candlelight that made itself known by the brightness it gave off. I guess I'm not alone out here, she thought acknowledging the sensation for what it was: the presence of another Force Sensitive. Naturally others would be out here! It seemed silly not to have thought of that before.

Following that same sensation, her own senses reaching out to find it, the young woman gently pushed against the control stick that drove her hoverchair, the soft humming of the repulsorlift beneath it changing tone as it nudged her forward, easing her between the plants, hovering above the soft stone that made up the pathway. What she observed shortly thereafter was nothing short of a surprise, in truth: an artist, dancing away at her painting, her brush sweeping across the canvas in an unhurried, elegant manner that suggested long practice.

A blonde eyebrow raised slightly, Teynara drove herself forward, the hoverchair adjusting slightly as she eased her way down a series of steps to reach the other person, just far enough back that the blonde could observe without making any overt intrusion. Such lovely colours, she thought with the softest of sighs. Whoever the young painter was, she was certainly skilled - the pigments had mixed in an excellent simalacrum of the leaves, grasses and flowers that constituted the garden.

"With a hand as steady as yours, you'd make an excellent surgeon," she remarked wryly, her soft lilting tones breaking the silence of the gardens just a little, even though she'd have preferred not to disturb them - and certainly not the artist at work. Can't help myself, though. "I've never seen you out here before. Do you always choose different spots for your work?"

 

[Nina Heavenshield]

Nina jumped a little when she heard the voice of another, close by. She'd been so focused on her work - lost inside her own little world - that she hadn't noticed the blonde woman watching her paint. Not that she minded the company by any means. With a timid wave of her hand she greeted the woman, and it wasn't until after the fact that she noticed the hover chair she sat in. Was she injured? "H-hello, Master," she spoke into her mind, unsure of the woman's rank. "Forgive me, I don't mean to intrude upon your mind. I'm afraid our conversation would be rather one-sided if I didn't..." she continued before awkwardly setting her brushes and paints aside.

Making an effort not to look at the woman's hover chair, Nina rubbed the back of her neck while trying to figure out where to keep her hands. "You're... Master Jeralyr, aren't you? I heard about what happened on Toola. Dad told me..."

[member="Teynara Jeralyr"]​

 

[Teynara Jeralyr]

[member="Nina Heavenshield"]

The initial sensation of contact between two minds was always an astonishing thing, even to one who had spent plenty of time around Jedi. For a moment, Teynara felt her mind recoiling a little from the touch of another's thoughts, recognising it as a foreign thing, but she exhaled a soft breath and relaxed, pushing aside that primordial fear and recognising that contact for what it was: not an invasion, but a polite request to open up a dialogue.

As the sudden anxiety faded, she could feel words imprinting themselves upon her mind, the way they might had someone stood beside her and softly whispered them into her ear, subliminal but potent enough to work their way into her consciousness. The blonde felt like there ought to be tone to the words, an accent that might offer inflection and presence to it, as words so often did. The vocables that settled themselves upon her mind reminded her delicately of music, the sort that might carry lightly upon a warm breeze.

She can't speak, can she?, Teynara reflected in surprise, staring wonderously at the younger woman, noting that she'd yet to see her lips move even though those words had reached her ears. Lucky that Force Sensitivity offers gifts that let you overcome that sort of barrier, she noted inwardly, once more finding herself amazed and humbled by this subtle demonstration of the versatility and power that so many of their brethren possessed. Remarkable.

"Your father was kind enough to save my life," she offered in response, speaking openly in her lilting accent, since she could not speak mind-to-mind the way that her new friend was clearly so competent at doing. "I'd like to say I witnessed that, but I was unconscious at the time. I only heard about it afterwards," the blonde added, smiling softly. "Thurion always was a gentleman".

Taking her hand off the steering yoke of her hoverchair, the Healer brought her hands together, resting the tips of her fingers against each other, enjoying the gentle pressure, her expression becoming somewhat reflective as she looked at the other Jedi, blue eyes slightly appraising. She'd heard it spoken that Thurion had a daughter of similar description to this girl: white haired, blue eyed, small of stature, and lacking the ability to vocalise herself the way that so many others could (and that Teynara often wished that they wouldn't!). She hadn't expected to come across the girl, but there were so many Jedi on Voss now that it would be truly difficult to meet them all.

"You can call me Teynara, by the way," she offered, her voice polite, a smile evident in her tone. "You're welcome to read what you want in my head, too," the blonde added, her smile widening into a soft grin. "Most of it will probably be meaningless to you. I'm afraid my thoughts aren't that interesting." Her eyes flickered past the girl to the canvas that she had been working on, taking in the colours once again, her smile softening a little as she reflected upon it again. "You have several remarkable gifts, if your artwork is any indication," the Healer observed. "You're very talented."

 

[Nina Heavenshield]

That sounds like dad, she thought to herself as a soft smile reached her lips. It was soon extinguished when she then shook her head in protest. "Oh no, I would never even attempt to read another's mind, Mast-- Teynara, I mean. Even if I would, I don't know how to." She thought it troubling enough that she had to resort to telepathy whenever she wished to voice her opinion, let alone invade someone's mind to poke around for their thoughts. The mere idea sounded much too dishonest to her young mind.

Her cheeks then turned into a hint of red as Teynara mentioned her artwork. "It's not finished yet..." she admitted, eyes dropping to the ground as if embarrassed of her talent, even though she had yet to meet someone who thought ill of it. "But thank you," she added with another smile. Again her gaze dropped, this time back to the hover chair Teynara sat in. "Does it... hurt?" she asked with great care and concern.

[member="Teynara Jeralyr"]​

 

[Teynara Jeralyr]

[member="Nina Heavenshield"]

That makes two of us then, Teynara thought wryly in response to the fact that the girl couldn't 'read' her thoughts. She wasn't really sure if that was how these things were supposed to work, but the arts that enabled other Jedi to do things along those lines weren't ones she'd studied herself yet. In this, I'm more of a novice than you. That was an amusing thought, but a pretty common one, as far as Teynara was concerned. People around here always managed to make her feel a little inadequate, even though that wasn't the intention.

No matter. Now wasn't the time to be delving into the dark depths of her own insecurities. Judging by the way the other girl reacted to her praise, it was clear she wasn't alone in that regard. Maybe it's something we all struggle with, in the end, even if you're as confident as Thurion. She knew he had his own, of course, but he was just better at confronting them than most. You'd need to be, to do his job, she noted with a faintly-amused smile.

"I'm fine, really," the blonde observed, waving a hand dismissively as if to brush away Nina's concerns. In truth, it doesn't hurt one bit - and that's the part I suppose I ought to be worried about. Her back still hurt, of course, right between her shoulderblades, where the blade had penetrated through skin, nerves and tissue. Her legs...well, she couldn't feel those at all. "I'm only at risk of repetitive strain, pushing this thing along to get anywhere," she added, adjusting the position of her chair once more with a casual contact on the control yoke. "Thank you for asking, though!"

In truth, Teynara was becoming a little more accustomed to the girl's telepathy. It was odd to be spoken to by someone whose lips didn't move in tiem with the words that were spoken aloud, but in truth, it wasn't nearly as bothersome as she'd supposed. And it would be uncomfortable to draw attention to the fact. No doubt she's struggled with being judged for it for a long time. The Healer couldn't pity her for it, but she could certainly sympathise with the problem. I daresay I've gotten more than a few stares for being stuck in this blasted chair, she mused wryly.

"Now, what brings you out here to paint on your own?", she inquired, raising an eyebrow slightly. It's common here to seek a little solitude at moments, but to spend that time in painting like this...perhaps someone's on her mind.. "Is it something you'd like to talk about?"

 

[Nina Heavenshield]

Without really thinking about it Nina moved to stand behind Teynara, hands grabbing hold of her hover chair to push it for her. Leaving the scene of her painting, the two would wander through the gardens at a leisurely pace. "Oh, nothing really. I've always preferred being alone to being around people I don't really know. I don't exactly find it easy to make small talk..." A small frown found her lips, but she quickly dismissed it. Too lovely a day to feel sorry about yourself. "Ever since father saved me from my old life on Umbara I've used painting as a means to put my thoughts into form, since words are not my strong suit."

They passed a beautifully sculpted bird bath where little birds were busy refreshing themselves, which caused her to smile. "Sometimes I wish I could become a bird. They sing so beautifully, and they can fly! Could you imagine being able to just take off on your own whenever you felt like it?"

[member="Teynara Jeralyr"]​

 

[Teynara Jeralyr]

[member="Nina Heavenshield"]

Slightly startled when Nina stepped behind her, it took a moment for Teynara to realise what the girl intended. Nobody's ever thought to push me around before, she mused, but reached over to disengage the controls so that the chair switched over to manual. Don't want her realising that it won't move without me otherwise, the blonde noted wryly. It was an oddly touching gesture, though it did raise the obvious question of where they were going. Only one way to find out, I guess...

"I guess that would be nice," she replied, in response to Nina's question. Though, truth be told, I've always thought that birds must be lonelier even than we are, since their fellows can always fly far away. Something told her that was a thought best kept to herself. "We don't live carefree lives, though," she continued softly, glancing briefly over her shoulder. "A bird can come and go as it wants, but that's a very flighty way to live. Jedi have to offer a little stability, try and keep things that little less chaotic, and build the harmony that lets others enjoy that freedom."

That had always been part of her reasoning for being among the Jedi, at any rate. Certainly, they were seen as arbiters of truth, providers of justice and so on, but that was the superficial presentation offered by the Holonet. Jedi, in reality, are just those that use their special gifts as a means of serving others, that all might be afforded the peace that we are taught to keep in our hearts. She could sympathise with Nina's desire, but she had never felt the need to simply fly wherever the whim took her. We can't afford to be so self-indulgent when others lack the freedom to do even the simplest of things that we take for granted.

It did sound like Nina's life before the Jedi hadn't been a pleasant one - it was rare that someone needed rescuing from a good situation - and no doubt Thurion had seen the need to offer her something that she didn't have in the place that she'd come from. I guess we all get a second chance here: some get the chance to be more themselves, others get the chance to develop into somebody new entirely. Teynara still wasn't sure which category she fit into.

"Freedom's all about your ability to express yourself," the blonde mused outloud, her lilting voice still continuing at her usual soft tone. "When you're caged and unable to go your own way, that's when we're talking about oppression." She gestured back towards where they had been a moment ago, Nina's easel and paints still there, waiting for her to return. "You paint, and thus can let your imagination fly the way that the bird does. You can fly further than any bird, because you can go to places that they could never reach."

 

[Nina Heavenshield]

Nina would simply wander the immediate area, showing [member="Teynara Jeralyr"] the rest of the garden and never straying too far from her painting. Don't want someone like [member="Théodred Heavenshield"] to suddenly show up to prank her by stealing her paints again! "I know," she sighed. "Daddy sa-- erm, Thurion says Jedi cannot act for personal gain. We're meant to protect people, and one cannot do so when acting selfishly." She frowned slightly. Would still be nice to have wings, she thought.

But then she smiled when Teynara brought up her painting and how it grants her the freedom to do whatever she liked. That's how she'd always looked at it; despite the limitations she faced every day, she had the power to go anywhere and experience anything with but the stroke of a brush against canvas. "Thank you, Master. I didn't have much in the way of freedom before dad took me in. My birth parents didn't care about me and mostly just bossed me around, like a slave..." She frowned again, this time more so out of anger at the memory of her former life, but it soon faded and turned into confidence.

"I am no longer a forced slave, but a willing servant. A servant of the Light side of the Force, like the rest of my family."

 

[Teynara Jeralyr]

[member="Nina Heavenshield"]

There was some discontent brimming silently beneath the surface of this one, Teynara could tell. I guess we all have issues left unresolved. Gives us something to work on, she reflected, but there was a little bitterness there - at her past, at her own sense of restlessness, it was hard to say. But she doesn't like to feel trapped, that's for certain. Tey could scarcely blame her: few people were comfortable with that feeling, but it was something that the blonde was becoming used to. And without your voice, something I imagine you've had more than enough experience with, the blonde mused, wondering again at the odd way the two of them were communicating.

And the key to it all is the will and the ability to act out of ourselves, Teynara noted to herself, and not for the first time of late. It doesn't matter whether you really are caged, if you feel like you're not. It was an odd facet of sentient psychology, this sense of freedom: how those that often had it felt trapped, and those who were truly trapped were often utterly oblivious of the restrictions placed upon them. And so it all comes down to perception. Does she feel trapped still, or is this a being finding it hard to take those first steps into being her own person? That was hard to say, very hard indeed.

"You don't have to call me 'Master', by the by," she offered as a momentary aside, having taken note of the casual way that the other woman had used the title. "Most people call me Tey, but you can call me Teynara, if you wish. We're two women together, and Jedi if thinking beyond that. No need to make it complicated," she added, turning slightly in her chair to look behind her - or at least as much as she could, given that she couldn't feel her legs to brace herself. "I didn't let your father call me that, and he's Grandmaster of our Order now," she added, mischievously.

As to the rest of it...it was clear enough to Tey that the other woman was no simple thinker. I do so love seeing a mind at work, but what a torment that can be, when our questions are left unanswered. It was a curse she knew they both suffered from, just as Thurion had in his younger days - probably true of many Jedi among them. After all, we all have a place here, a duty to perform and a particular life to live, but that doesn't always allow for simplicity, does it?

"You forget, though, we're not entirely Jedi here, not anymore," she observed, though the blonde often referred to herself as such, and certainly felt that she was. "We broke away from the main Order years ago. They'd lost their way, and partly through just those sorts of ideas. Why can't you have a life that is your own, as well as serving the Force, and helping others?", the Healer asked, sitting back properly in her chair, letting her shoulders relax just a little. "My father used to have a saying: 'you can't help anyone if you haven't first helped yourself'. If you can't be selfish every once in a while, what use are you going to be to others?" She shook her head. "A person like that always snaps eventually, because they always give and never take, so there's no balance in them."

 

[Nina Heavenshield]

She smiled. "Fathers are good at that; words of wisdom and the likes," she spoke into Teynara's mind. Her words were a bit puzzling, however. If they are not Jedi, then what are they? Do they have any right to call themselves Jedi if they're not exactly that? She decided not to dwell on it, and happened upon the thought that perhaps the Jedi is more of an idea rather than an organisation or a people. This would mean that anyone could become a Jedi with the right intentions and goodwill that they are known for, which sounded much more pleasing to her.

Arriving back at her painting sat upon the easle, she found herself wondering about her father. This lady had mentored him in his youth, had she not? "Tey... What was he like, back then? Thurion, I mean, at my age?" She 'parked' her back at the same spot where they'd begun their conversation, and instead sat down in the soft grass in front of the woman. "Did he have everything figured out back then, as well?"

[member="Teynara Jeralyr"]​

 

[Teynara Jeralyr]

[member="Nina Heavenshield"]

The question almost made Teynara laugh, not in derision, but in pure surprise. No, I do think Thurion surprised us all with the confidence he’s developed over the years. She remembered the way he looked when they'd first met: it had been when the Sanctum had come together for the funeral of the boy’s Master. Odd to think it, but he couldn't remember how Asha had been killed, only that Thurion’s sense of grief had been pervasive and intense, something they could all sense, something that had threatened the young man’s inner equanimity. We’ve seen people turn away from the Sanctum for emotions of lesser intensity.

She hadn't really been certain if Thurion might join that number, in truth: the strength of feeling had been considerable, having suffered a loss that was, in some ways, just as pervasive as when he had lost his parents, both he and his brothers becoming orphans. Asha was a surrogate parent there when Thurion was starting to come into his own, which is perhaps a stronger bond than any formed in infancy. She knew that flew in the face of traditional psychology, but Jedi had ways of their own – and the bond between Master and Apprentice was often more subtly potent than the bonds of parenthood.

How to explain that to the daughter of that young man? For her to recognise that her father could be a man vulnerable and in pain? No doubt she had seen Thurion at sensitive moments, but Teynara knew well enough that he was more than capable of putting up a brave front when he wanted to – and she often wondered at where the vulnerable lad she remembered was, underneath that strong outer façade. No child should know that their parents are mortal, she thought to herself. That’s an understanding we come to only when we witness their decline. With Thurion at the height of his strength, both mentally and physically…was it appropriate to speak of him in such a fashion now?

”Thurion and I met when he was still an apprentice, back when we were part of the Levantine Sanctum,” she remarked candidly, watching her words carefully. ”He's always had a core of confidence, but he wasn't the same as he is now. There were a lot of questions on his lips, and all he really wanted was to help people, and become as good a Jedi as he could,” the blonde continued softly. So much so that he pushed himself hard enough to be Grandmaster. That part hadn't truly surprised her, but it never ceased to amaze her at how confident he'd grown. ”In truth, I'm not sure he has everything figured out even now. Learning to look confident when you're not…that's a skill he's gotten good at.”

Still, it was the nature of the girl’s question that put Teynara in a truly reflective mood – Does she feel so unsure of herself that she was hoping I'd say the same about her father? Or was it perhaps something else that prompted the question – maybe it was simply a young woman trying to reach back and connect with a person she never knew. Perhaps Thurion is truly a mystery to her.

 

[Nina Heavenshield]

Nina smiled at the thought of a tiny version of her father. She found it intriguing, trying to make out what he must've looked like without a beard and with less wrinkles. "Then I was right all along," she spoke into Teynara's mind and smiled. "I never asked father about his past because, to me, it never really mattered. He told me once how we live in the present so we can make our future brighter than our past... or something like that." He probably put it more eloquently, but words were after all not her strong suit.

"I know dad tries his best to seem confident and strong at all times - he's a leader, and leaders have to inspire people. But I've known him longer than anyone, and I've seen him at his lowest, when he thinks I'm not looking. That's when he becomes the little boy again." She frowned at the thought, but it was soon replaced by a smile. "But then I just give him a big hug and a kiss on the cheek and he's happy again," she said with child-like innocence. "I like to think that mommy, Théo and I take care of him just as much as he takes care of us."

She then got back on her feet, dusting any strands of grass off her robes before returning to her painting. "Tey... would you like to be in the painting?" she asked shyly. "I think you're very pretty, and I could use some practice painting people," she added with a slight blush to her cheeks.

[member="Teynara Jeralyr"]​

 

[Teynara Jeralyr]

[member="Nina Heavenshield"]

We're all reflections of our past, so perhaps your father will always be that little boy in some ways, Teynara couldn't help but think. It was hard to imagine Thurion being the same person he was back when they'd first met, but he'd been a conflicted young man, with his Master having fallen. Not that I'm the same person I was, and the same will no doubt be true for Nina, It would be interesting to see where the younger woman might be in a handful of years - still carrying this sense of poetic idealism, or would perhaps the Jedi life harden her as it did so many others? We'll have to wait and see, I suppose!

"I guess I don't have to do much work to sit for a painting, do I?", Teynara asked with a slightly-amused smile. She'd never been in a painting before, and didn't even particularly like people taking holographs of her, but she sensed that wasn't the point of the request here: it wasn't about the painting, but a question of a shared experience. And, since she's asking, it means she's comfortable having me here. It would be churlish indeed to turn down such a lovely request. "Sitting is pretty much all I do these days, anyway," she added, tilting her head back slightly so that she could look up at Nina.

"Your father's always struck me as the sort of person to present a strong outer barrier to the world, but inside is just as vulnerable as the rest of us," the blonde noted, picking up the threads of their previous conversation, all the while adjusting the position of her hoverchair so she could more easily see Nina, that she might watch her paint for a while. "Seems to be a habit of the strong ones: they spend so much time trying to be the bulwark that everyone needs, they sometimes forget to attend to their own inner feelings."

It was at least a matter of progress that Thurion had the family that he had put together now - a support mechanism probably far stronger than anything just being around fellow Jedi could provide. I wonder if he recognises the importance of this? Or if his daughter knows how important that relationship is to the both of them? It wasn't a question that she would likely get an answer to, though, and perhaps one that simply didn't require it.

"It's an interesting choice we all have to make for ourselves, don't you think?", she asked, resting her hands in her lap, pale-blue eyes focused a little past Nina, to look at the half-finished painting sitting on its easel. "How to present ourselves to the world. Makes you wonder when and where your father decided to be the man that he is now, doesn't it?"

 

[Nina Heavenshield]

"Thank you," Nina let out with a big smile before her brush resumed its dance across the canvas. She utilised every colour imaginable to bring the painting to life, attempting to capture both the realism and the feel of the moment. This is where she was able to fully immerse herself; her true element. Her fellow padawans would sometimes joke stating that in case being a Jedi didn't work out for Nina, she could at least become a great artist.

"It shouldn't be their burden to bear alone," she replied to the picked-up thread of their conversation while trying to keep her tongue from poking through the side of the mouth. "Just because they're strong, I mean. Being strong doesn't make you invincible..." she added with a sigh. The times she'd witnessed her father getting injured were innumerable, and at times it made her feel inadequate and weak knowing he'd endured such pains, for her sake or others'. Still, that is what Jedi do; sacrifice themselves for the betterment of the galaxy.

"Almost done."

[member="Teynara Jeralyr"]​