The Jedi Iroh
CHURCH OF THE FORCE CHAPTER-HOUSE
YUMFLA, SUSEFVI
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Rarely now did Tiland teach outside the monastery of Qi-Ko. It had become the spiritual heart of the Way of the Light Hand and the other mystics of Qi-Ko. Monks, mystics, and misfits of many kinds found themselves drawb to the world when they needed something the world could offer. Solace, peace, insights, some foretelling. The challenge was that only those called tended to find their way there.
But that was irrelevant to why he was here now. Tiland had come to teach a class to any interested Jedi.
A class of three parts: spiritual-philosophical, physical, and mystical. Just as they were physical, mystical, and mental. The three elements of a person that all needed to be in harmony with each other to truly thrive in harmony with another three- self, others, and the Force. Patterns within patterns; fractalized fragments.
For this, he had found Susefvi suitable. Easily accessible by many Jedi of the different orders and far outside the space contested by the growing schism between the Silvers, the NJO, and the Schismatics, since he didn’t think they had a name yet. Platinum perhaps. Or electrum. If they tried to pull any of their petty politics, they’d get a cup of tea and a stern command to go sit in the corner to meditate.
This particular chapter-house was on a hillside near the edge of the city, with a whitewashed stone wall around the exterior and a green round door to enter the main courtyard, while the one story building nestled in the center. A garden with a pond and thick plant growth was in the back, but it lacked the space for movement that this would require.
He had commandeered a large round room and set a rack on the wall, with a hand calligraphied sign reading “Place lightsabers here” on the wall above it. A collection of training droids stop deactivated around the edges of the room in a broad circle, but the primary focus was on a pile of everyday objects in the center of the room.
A lightsaber was the iconic weapon of the Jedi Knights, but sometimes that wasn’t an option. And sometimes, Jedi came to rely more on their blade than on the Force. What would be surprising to those who came and knew him was that Tiland wore a lightsaber on his belt. An ancient thing, rough-hewn from wood and hand engraved in patterns and symbols, it seemed out of place on the old monk.
More familiar was the staff he carried in one hand, with two gourds filled with tea tied to the top. It matched the objects in the center of the room: canes, walking sticks, scarves, tankards, thermoses, robes, lengths of cord, calligraphy pens. Things anyone might carry around with them.
Things crucial to the lessons he was about to teach. Teras kasi fundamentals, at least the Way of the Light Hand school, and the skill of Force Weapon.
He did this mostly for practical reasons, but also for one a bit devious. Perhaps a few would be interested to to choose the Circle as their calling, or at least consider it. He expected more than a few to arrive who weren’t Jedi at all, either. Wardens of the Sky would find it valuable. As would Judges and others who held to the Light without necessarily following the Code.
But if not, that was no matter. The transfer of skill and experience was far more valuable.
All he needed now was for them to arrive.
“Welcome, welcome, do come in,” he would say to each as they entered. Padawans, knights, masters, it didn’t matter. All got the same response. “Place your lightsaber on the rack and work on clearing your mind. This lesson can be particularly dangerous to those who lose focus and let the flow of the Force through them be obstructed. We will begin shortly once a few more arrive.”