Master of Illusions
Kiran Arlos
Night had fallen on Kashyyk, just as it had done for a million nights before. Looking up into the sky on these cloudless nights always amazed Samara. Few worlds had remained as pure as the wookie's homeworld. Even her own was so deep in light pollution that even the transitory mists weren't visible on a clear night. Here she could see countless stars and colorful nebulae. If allowed to the Jedi Master could have set on this bench all night. Content to enjoy a tranquil peace even the most sacred of Jedi locations couldn't bring. Still, she had a job to do. Someone whom sought his own redemption for the dark deeps of the past. It was something Samara could relate too. And as her gaze returned from the sky her eyes settled on the boy that lingered at a market stall, possibly purchasing his evening meal.
She watched him for a moment longer, remembering what had brought the Jedi to seek this one out. The council had requested her to join them. They had been worried for Kiran Arlos. Unsure of the path he was still on. Though his return to him had given them great hope that the boy would find the peace he so sought, it had been hard for Kiran to find a Master that could not only instruct him, but given him the guidance he needed that was born from the same struggles. The Masters had hoped she would be that person. Now looking at him she could sense the past pains. Though he'd tried to move on from them they still haunted his soul, keeping him from finding true balance.
Samara wasn't even sure if she herself had found that balance, but at the very least she had found a way to co-exist with her own darkness. So maybe that was the balance the council had sought for Kiran. Standing from the bench Samara finally took the steps to cross the courtyard. If was time for her to meet her prospective new pupil. She stopped before him as he began to walk away from the stall. At closer inspection she could see the Corellian baring of his posture. He most definitely had the prideful streak of his people, but tempered from much pain and hardship.
"Kiran Arlos. I am Master Galloway. The council wished that I would speak with you." It was a simple statement, but one she'd hope would cut through any distrust.
Night had fallen on Kashyyk, just as it had done for a million nights before. Looking up into the sky on these cloudless nights always amazed Samara. Few worlds had remained as pure as the wookie's homeworld. Even her own was so deep in light pollution that even the transitory mists weren't visible on a clear night. Here she could see countless stars and colorful nebulae. If allowed to the Jedi Master could have set on this bench all night. Content to enjoy a tranquil peace even the most sacred of Jedi locations couldn't bring. Still, she had a job to do. Someone whom sought his own redemption for the dark deeps of the past. It was something Samara could relate too. And as her gaze returned from the sky her eyes settled on the boy that lingered at a market stall, possibly purchasing his evening meal.
She watched him for a moment longer, remembering what had brought the Jedi to seek this one out. The council had requested her to join them. They had been worried for Kiran Arlos. Unsure of the path he was still on. Though his return to him had given them great hope that the boy would find the peace he so sought, it had been hard for Kiran to find a Master that could not only instruct him, but given him the guidance he needed that was born from the same struggles. The Masters had hoped she would be that person. Now looking at him she could sense the past pains. Though he'd tried to move on from them they still haunted his soul, keeping him from finding true balance.
Samara wasn't even sure if she herself had found that balance, but at the very least she had found a way to co-exist with her own darkness. So maybe that was the balance the council had sought for Kiran. Standing from the bench Samara finally took the steps to cross the courtyard. If was time for her to meet her prospective new pupil. She stopped before him as he began to walk away from the stall. At closer inspection she could see the Corellian baring of his posture. He most definitely had the prideful streak of his people, but tempered from much pain and hardship.
"Kiran Arlos. I am Master Galloway. The council wished that I would speak with you." It was a simple statement, but one she'd hope would cut through any distrust.
