Private The Guardian's Lesson

[Lorn Reingard]

Tags: Michael Angellus

​

Lorn stood in the center of the temple's training mat, boots planted firmly against the worn surface. Before him, a small group of older Padawans shifted nervously, a handful of throwing knives glinting in their hands. "Again." Lorn commanded, his voice a low rumble.

A knife flicked towards him, aimed with practiced ease. Lorn reached out with the Force, focusing on the ancient words he'd been studying. He envisioned a wall, a shimmering barrier of energy between himself and the incoming threat. And for the first time, it flickered into existence, enough to deflect the blade harmlessly to the mat with a dull thud. A rare, fleeting smirk touched Lorn's lips, a victory, however small, felt good.

Then, another knife, faster this time, slicing straight through the barrier and grazing his shoulder. Lorn winced, stepping back and holding up a hand to signal a pause. The Padawans stilled, their expressions a mix of shock and concern. They knew Lorn wouldn't lash out. Battle-worn as he was, he valued patience above all else. He was determined to master this technique, not for glory, but for the security it could offer those he cared about, to protect against the loss that followed him around.

Lorn understood the burden of loss all too well, and that was why he had invited Michael, a new Padawan grappling with grief. Throwing knives at a target was one way to channel pain, and Lorn silently hoped this detour would offer some relief. He hoped the young Padawan would join them soon.

He glanced down at his datapad, rereading the passages on Force Barrier. The Padawans huddled, their hushed voices punctuated by nervous laughter. He was diverting their Soresu training, a diversion they seemed to welcome, he silently hoped there would be no repercussions. This was a secret, their little rebellion against the monotony of their day to day training, and Lorn hoped they wouldn't betray his trust.

 

[Michael Angellus]

​

Journal Entry:
.

Alright, time for some trrrraining!

Yeah, I can’t believe I just wrote that either.

I’m just excited. I’ve been here at this Temple, or Enclave, or Sanctuary, whatever this place is for some time now and have been basically alone with my thoughts. I mean, I get it, Master Porte is busy, and real life comes first. I’m not complaining, but I can only go through my X-wing so many times, right?

Right?


Anyway, the “Sword” Mr… or do I call him “Knight” Reingard? That just sounds so weird to me. Not that HE sounds weird to me, just that whole “Knight” thing. Either way, I appreciate it. SO here I am walking these halls trying to find this training mat and…

WHOAH!

Are those girls about to throw knives at Reingard? THEY ARE! THEY’RE GONNA THROW KNIVES AT HIM!

What the?!

 

[Lorn Reingard]

Tags: Michael Angellus

​

Lorn, poised for the next assault of knives, noticed Michael's wide-eyed entrance. He raised a hand, halting the Padawans mid-stance. "Hold." he rumbled, a hint of a greeting forming on his lips for the newcomer.

But a Padawan, too eager, too focused, hadn't seen the signal. A knife zipped past Lorn's ear, the wind of it ruffling his hair. He shot her a knowing look, a silent reprimand, but laced with understanding. He knew her eagerness came from a place of wanting to improve.

"Michael," Lorn said, beckoning him forward. "Join us. We're experimenting with Force Barrier today." He retrieved a set of throwing knives from a nearby rack, handing them to the Padawan. "Throw it as hard as you can. Aim for me."

He watched Michael's initial confusion melt into something closer to... anticipation? Lorn hoped this unorthodox training, this shared risk, would spark something within the young man. A connection, perhaps.

Lorn stepped back to the center of the mat, centering himself. He closed his eyes, visualizing the barrier, a shimmering wall of light, a shield against the sharp edges of the world. He extended his hand, focusing his energy, and nodded to the Padawans. "Ready when you are."

 

[Michael Angellus]

​

Journal Entry:
.

He wants me to do WHAT?

I can’t throw knives at the guy. I mean another almost killed him! I saw it!

I… You want me to throw these at you? Oh my word. The anxiety is taking over, come on, breathe man, breathe. I’m gonna kill the guy! No, I’m not, breathe! Slower! Clearly they want me to do this, all of them.

I mean, I can back out of it, but… no…

I don’t want someone else walking in so, I’m going to check the halls.

Nobody come in here unless Knight Reingard calls for you! Okay? Okay! There.

I still don’t know about this. Do I have to? Yes. Yes I do. Okay. Ignore the comments. Shut’em out. Just you and the knives. Okay… here we go… WAIT!

Frak… I closed my eyes as I threw’em


Lorn Reingard

 

[Lorn Reingard]

Tags: Michael Angellus

​

Lorn felt a prickle of… well, not exactly fear, but something akin to parental disappointment. The knives struck the barrier, yes, but with the force of a child tossing pebbles into a pond. They slapped against the shimmering shield before clattering to the ground. He'd expected… more. More focus, more intent, more oomph.

Lorn let the barrier dissipate, the shimmering field vanishing as he walked towards Michael. He suppressed a sigh, recognizing the swirling anxiety in the young man's eyes. He deposited more knives into Michael's trembling hands. "Surely you can throw harder than that." he said, his voice a low rumble, encouraging but firm. "Look at your target, the one you are intending on hitting." He needed to instill some confidence, some aggression. "Come on. I can take it." He flashed a wry smile, hoping to ease the tension.

He quickly paced back to the center of the mat, resuming his stance. He had to show, not just tell. "Pay attention to how I do this, you are next." he said, verbalizing his process. He closed his eyes, centering himself, calling upon the Force within. He visualized the barrier, not just as a static wall, but as a responsive, active shield, alive with energy.

"Feel the energy flowing." he murmured, more to himself than to Michael. "Extending outward, a shimmering wall of light, deflecting all that comes against it." He extended his hand, pushing the Force outwards, solidifying the image in his mind. "Focus. Intention. Power." The Force Barrier shimmered into existence, a visible manifestation of his focus.

"Ready." He announced, a knowing smile beginning to form, ready to demonstrate the power that resided within, waiting to be awakened in Michael.

 

[Michael Angellus]

​

Journal Entry:
.

Great. He’s mad at me.

I had the chance to learn something and I completely wussed out!

I AM SUCH AN IDIOT!

I can’t believe I wasted his time. Everyone’s time! I am such a yakhead!

I’m sorry. I’m a failure. I’ll just end up screwing this up to.

I had such anxiety at this point I was about to run away, all the way to Mom’s house. Then something weird happened.

What are you doing?

Did I hear my Dad’s voice in my head?

I don’t wanna screw up and hurt someone… Did I just say that out loud? I think that I did.

You’re learning to be a Jedi. Aren’t you? Did you expect them to coddle you? You know you don’t respond to that!

I’m afraid! There, I said it. I shouldn’t be a Jedi, Jedi are fearless. I just proved I shouldn’t be here.

You think they aren’t? Your uncle is afraid all the time. Afraid what will happen if he isn’t around. Your cousin is afraid… it happens to everyone. I’ll bet this Knight on his knees waiting for you to throw those knives at him is too on some level. What did I always tell you about fear?

Realize it, accept it, move past it… Yup… I was talking… everyone is looking at me like I’m a Hutt swimsuit model.

Sorry about that. I guess I’m ready. Here goes… wait… what did he mean by “You’re next”?


Lorn Reingard

 

[Lorn Reingard]

Tags: Michael Angellus

​

Lorn watched Michael with a growing sense of understanding. The boy's outburst, muttering about fear and being a Jedi, painted a clearer picture than any clumsy knife throw ever could. He wasn't dealing with a lack of aggression, but a torrent of internal conflict. His initial disappointment morphed into something akin to…compassion.

Lorn firmly placed a hand on Michael's shoulder and guided him to the center of the mat. "It is okay to be afraid, Michael." he said, his voice now softer, laced with reassurance. He planted the Padawan firmly, giving him a stern nod that conveyed trust. "The brave Jedi is not he who does not feel afraid, but he who conquers that fear."

Lorn turned swiftly, positioning his body so Michael couldn't see what he was doing. He subtly shushed the girls who were observing their training. From his pocket, he produced not steel, but sets of wooden knives, harmless in reality, and quickly handed them to the girls, who hid them behind their backs with mischievous grins. He hoped this would drive home the impact of what he was trying to teach.

Stepping back into his own stance, Lorn met Michael's gaze. "Be brave. Trust me." he said, his voice carrying the weight of his own years of training and trials. He reached out in the Force, not with the rigid intention of creating a defensive wall, but with a gentle, encompassing wave, forming a barrier around the Padawan. He hadn't expected to practice this kind of shielding, but he was glad for the opportunity.

Before Michael could respond or even fully grasp what was happening, the girls, emboldened by Lorn's silent instruction and the playful nature of the task, stepped forward. They threw the wooden knives, not with the tentative hesitation Michael had displayed, but with the full force of their youthful energy, pelting the shimmering barrier surrounding the Padawan.

 

[Michael Angellus]

​

Journal Entry:
.

Well, that was embarrassing.

Everyone is looking at me like I have four heads and a hunch.I must have said something really stupid. I wish I could just disappear right now. Hopefully, they'll forget about it by tomorrow. I feel like such a yakhead. The man saw me… everyone saw me, those girls. I was talking to myself in front of girls. Oh my word I just ruined any chance of having any kind of social life. They all no doubt look at me like I’m the kid who eats glue and rides the short speeder.

That was mean, I wish I could erase that.

I mean, even Knight Reingard turned his back to me. He’s probably telling them to be nice to me, which will make them meaner, I can tell by the grins on their faces! I just want to disappear and wait for Master Porte to come back from his mission.

"Be brave. Trust me."

Oh, what fresh Mustafar is this? The mean girls are going to have at it. THEY TRIED TO THROW THINGS AT ME!

Wait? They tried to? They tried to! He was showing me something.

Is my jaw dropping again?! I’m totally geeking out!

That.was.COOHOOL! Oh my word! That was great! I get it! Is that what you want everyone to learn? That was awesome… wait? Is that what you mean by me being “next”?

Uh oh…

Lorn Reingard

 

[Lorn Reingard]

Michael Angellus

​

Lorn chuckled, a low rumble in his chest at Michael's visible astonishment. The boy's jaw did, indeed, appear to be dropping again. "Indeed, Michael." he said, amusement dancing in his eyes. "Perhaps a more… engaging approach is what you required."

As the girls eagerly gathered their wooden knives, anticipating another barrage, Lorn stepped forward, gently halting them with a raised hand. He turned back to Michael, the humor fading, replaced by a firm resolve. "This time, you are on your own, Padawan."

He guided Michael back to the center of the training mat. "Remember how I had explained it." Lorn instructed, his voice calm and steady. "The Force is within you, a natural extension of your own will. Focus on that feeling, that need to protect yourself."

"Picture the barrier in your mind, a shimmering shield, strong and unyielding. Feel its presence around you, an invisible wall between you and the coming… barrage." Lorn added with a smirk. "Reach out with your feelings, Michael. Let the Force flow."

Lorn stepped back, giving Michael space, but remained close, a silent sentinel ready to offer guidance. "Believe in yourself, Michael. Trust the Force. You can do this."

 

[Michael Angellus]

​

Journal Entry:
.

That was the wildest experience I have EVER FRAKKING EXPERIENCED!

What? I can swear in this journal right?

Right?

Oh well.

I was all abuzz about it until he said the bad words…

"This time, you are on your own, Padawan."

Okay, how do I do this…

Remember how I had explained it.

Uh oh. I was too excited to really listen.

I have to remember what he said. Oh no, they were going to kill me with knives! Wait. No they weren’t. They were wooden. I’m golden even if I screw this up, which we know I probably will. The problem is that is not an attitude to have though. I don’t want to be some ridiculous screw up. My father wasn’t, my grandfather wasn’t, my great grandfather, and so on. I can do this.

Alright… he just told you to trust yourself and in the Force, everyone is always saying how to “Let the Force flow through you.” I’ll do that. Empty my head… heh… not that hard… and close my eyes and imagine a wall… a wall of light maybe? Ew bad pun!

Alright… let’s do this before I lose my nerve.

Wait, did he say “barrage”?

Yeah, I stopped a couple of them, but one of them was only slowed down… it sort of “arced” and hit me in a place that I don’t want to talk about right now. Let’s just say my voice is still a pitch higher as I make this journal entry.

BUT I GOT MOST OF’EM! Almost…

Lorn Reingard

 

[Lorn Reingard]

Michael Angellus

​

Lorn watched Michael, a flicker of pride warming his chest. The boy stumbled, yes, caught up in his own thoughts and anxieties, but he was trying. The Force, Lorn knew, responded to intention, to need. And Michael, bless his heart, desperately needed this. The barrier he conjured was shaky, shimmering like heat haze, but it was there. He even managed to deflect a few of the wooden knives, albeit with more luck than skill by the looks of it.

A small, polite clap escaped Lorn's hands. He wanted to encourage the boy, to solidify that fragile confidence. He'd seen too many promising students crumble under the weight of expectation.

He moved with deliberate calm, retrieved the real knives, and handed them back to the girls. He offered Michael a reassuring smile, an attempt to project confidence he hoped the boy would absorb. He could almost see the question forming in Michael's eyes, the mixture of relief and residual fear.

"Now try it on me." Lorn announced, his voice even and steady. He could almost forsee the flicker of alarm in Michael's face, the widening of his eyes. Good. A surge of adrenaline would sharpen his focus.

"Don't let them scratch me with those." he added, a playful glint in his eyes. A little levity wouldn't hurt. He gave a small nod to the girls, signaling them to be ready. "Whenever you're ready, Michael. I trust you." The challenge was set. Now it was up to Michael. Lorn stood firm, a silent but unwavering beacon in the boy's journey. He trusted that somewhere within Michael, the Force was flowing, just waiting to be unleashed.

 

[Michael Angellus]

​

Journal Entry:
.

Owwwwww that hurt!

I am going to sound like I should be singing opera for the next month, and walking with a hunch for a week… but I did it… almost.

Even Knight Reingard knew I was lucky.

Better to be lucky than good sometimes, I guess. Right?

Thanks.

"Now try it on me."...

Wait. Throw the knives again? Alright. I guess I screwed up. That’s cool. I only did this once. I didn’t expe…

"Don't let them scratch me with those." … … "Whenever you're ready, Michael. I trust you."

I have to shield him??? Ohhhhh I knew this was going to suuuuck, . I mean hitting myself in the jewels is one thing, letting them hit another? No, no I couldn’t do this! I can’t. I couldn’t let them hit him. I had to try. I know I was going to be terrible at this, but I had to try. Letting these girls hurt him is a failure. He is WAY more important than I am.

Let’s do this.

I’m hurting, but I felt a wave of adrenaline. That was going to be distracting, but I had to focus. Focus on a barrier…a wall between them and he and I…

I guess here goes…

Lorn Reingard

 

[Lorn Reingard]

Michael Angellus

​

Lorn watched the play of emotions across Michael's face – fear, doubt, then finally, a stubborn determination. It was a subtle shift, almost imperceptible, but Lorn saw it. He felt it in the Force too, a gentle stiffening, like a building wind. There it was. The barrier. Stronger than before.

He gave the girls a nod, a silent acknowledgement of their readiness. They didn't hesitate. The knives came whizzing, blurring streaks of silver in the light. Lorn felt a sting, a sharp, fleeting pain as the first knife somehow slipped past Michael's defense. He gritted his teeth, a tiny, almost imperceptible flinch. Dammit. He hoped Michael hadn't noticed. He forced himself to remain still, unwavering, a solid point of reference for the boy.

Then, the rest. Thwack! Thwack! Thwack! The satisfying sounds of steel hitting an immovable object filled the air. Lorn felt a grin tug at his lips, spreading warmth through his chest. Michael was doing it. He was actually doing it. Each impact was a little victory, a testament to the boy's raw potential and his burgeoning connection to the Force.

As the last knife clattered to the ground, its journey abruptly halted by Michael's will, Lorn let out a soft breath he hadn't realized he was holding. He turned towards Michael, arms outstretched in a silent offer of congratulations, of pride, of unwavering belief. His smile was genuine, wide and heart-felt. The earlier sting on his bicep was long forgotten.

"See?" he said, his voice laced with warmth. "I knew you could do it. You see what you are capable of?" He wanted Michael to understand, to feel that profound sense of accomplishment. He hadn't just deflected knives, he had, in that moment, deflected his own doubts, his inhibitions. He had tapped into something powerful within himself, something Lorn knew would only grow stronger with time and dedication. He just hoped Michael realized it too.

 

[Michael Angellus]

​

Journal Entry:
.

Thwak Thwak Thwak.

I opened my eyes and couldn't believe my luck. I did it! I just blocked three knives! I heard them!

Ummm wait?

Three knives, four throwers.

One got through.

I failed.

"See?" … "I knew you could do it. You see what you are capable of?"

He lied.

Thanks. I appreciate it.

I’m not mad, I’m a bit disappointed, but not mad. I get it, I’m a basketcase, they need to pay extra attention to me, and make me feel good about myself. It’s okay, I just would rather fail honestly, than succeed with an asterisk.

Can I go again? This time, either you throw them, or don’t wait until I’m ready? I need to earn this, I did okay, but I didn’t earn this congratulations.


Lorn Reingard

 

[Lorn Reingard]

Michael Angellus

​

Lorn felt a twinge of disappointment, masked quickly behind a neutral expression. He understood Michael's desire for honest assessment, for earned praise. It was a quality to be admired, a sign of a strong, developing character. But the boy was being too hard on himself. He was missing the forest for the trees, focusing on the one errant knife when he had successfully blocked the others. It was progress, significant progress, and Lorn wanted him to acknowledge that, to internalize the feeling of accomplishment.

He watched Michael's face, searching for any flicker of understanding, of acceptance. But the boy remained closed off, focused on the perceived failure. Lorn sighed inwardly. Patience, he reminded himself. These things took time.

Without a word, Lorn crouched, the movements fluid and practiced. He scooped up the scattered knives, his fingers nimble and precise. As he straightened, a glint of steel flashed in the light. Two of the knives were already airborne, spinning towards Michael with a low, whistling sound.

But they weren't aimed to hit. Lorn had calculated the trajectory perfectly. The knives would land close, a deliberate test of Michael's reflexes, his readiness. It was a challenge, a question. Was the boy truly prepared to push himself, to learn from his mistakes? Or would he crumble under the weight of his own expectations? Lorn held his breath, watching, waiting to see what Michael would do.

 

[Michael Angellus]

​

Journal Entry:
.

Okay, I get it. Anyone else reading this would probably think I’m overreacting to the whole thing. Especially stopping three knives when I never even tried to do something like this before. I get it.

One.still.got.through.

I’m not military, but I come from a military family, and one thing about the Angellus’ is that “one” could mean all the difference. So yeah. I failed. It’s either all or nothing. I’m not going to sit and blubber over it, I’m going to go back and work harder to make myself better. Why is that so bad?

Nothing but respect for this man for teaching me, but I’m not always the basketcase everyone thinks I am.

Okay, he granted my request.

I think I was more determined than knowledgeable this time, because they weren’t going to see the best shiny barrier or anything. I stopped them, well… slowed them to fall in front of me really, but none of them hit me.

Judging by where they fell, none of them were going to hit me anyway.

Oh well… I still stopped them.

I’ll take that as a “yes”.

Lorn Reingard

 

[Lorn Reingard]

Michael Angellus

​

Lorn watched the two knives fall harmlessly to the dirt, a hair's breadth from Michael's boots. The boy hadn't flinched, hadn't even blinked. He stood his ground, eyes fixed on Lorn, a challenge simmering beneath the surface.

Yes, Lorn thought, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. He stopped them.

He knew Michael was wrestling with his own internal demons, a battle fought with the unwavering standards of his family history. Lorn admired that dedication, that refusal to settle for mediocrity. But he also saw the potential for it to become a crippling weight.

"Good." Lorn said, his voice low and even. "You saw them. You reacted. Now, tell me, what did you learn?" He tossed the remaining knives lightly in his hand, the rhythmic clinking a counterpoint to the unspoken tension in the air. He wasn't looking for flattery, only a genuine understanding. The path to mastery was paved with self-awareness, with the ability to dissect even the smallest victories and failures. He waited, patiently, for Michael to begin the work.

 

[Michael Angellus]

​

Journal Entry:
.

Okay, he seemed happier, and this was more genuine than the last time. He wasn’t throwing them at me, but I still stopped them. I mean, I don’t know this skill, but I know I can do it if I have to. Still need to work more on it though. I mean, I forced myself into this.

No pun intended.

Still though, it’s pretty cool to know that I could do that if I had to.

I guess the more determined I am, the more focused I am?

Lorn Reingard

 

[Lorn Reingard]

Michael Angellus

​

With a subtle gesture, Lorn dismissed the other younglings from the training room, murmuring words of encouragement and promising further instruction later. As the last of the girls filed out, Lorn turned his full attention back to Michael, the clinking of the knives ceasing. He rested them on a nearby table.

"That was...impressive, Michael." Lorn began, his voice softening slightly. "You possess strength. It's not just about deflecting knives, it's about believing you can deflect knives. It's about trusting your instincts, your connection to the energy that flows through all things." He paused, letting his words sink in.

"You are strong, stronger than you realize. You have the makings of a great Jedi, but greatness isn't about flawless execution, it's also about believing in yourself, even when you stumble." He smiled gently. "I sense your determination, but I also sense a…hesitation. Trust yourself, Michael. Trust the Force."

He shifted his stance slightly, his expression becoming more thoughtful. "Tell me, how have you been settling in? These transitions… they can be difficult, especially given everything." It was a subtle nudge, a gentle way of broaching the subject of Michael's recent loss. "How are you coping? How are you really doing?" He kept his gaze steady, offering a silent reassurance that he was there to listen, without judgment.

 

[Michael Angellus]

​

Journal Entry:
.

Okay, the girls are being dismissed. He wants to yell at me about something. I get it.

Okay, maybe not.

I get what he was saying, I mean, he’s coddling me right now. It’s obvious, but it’s because they all think they need to do so. It’s fine. The thing is though, I have to wonder what he thinks I’m hesitating for. I can’t explain that, the “hesitation” you say I have. It’s just rough for me. I mean, you just pushed me into learning this, and I DO appreciate it, but I am in over my head, so yeah. I mean people can sense each other, people can talk through the Force. I don’t know how to do that. I don’t know how to do pretty much anything short of running and jumping. Great, I sound like I’m complaining.

Don’t get me wrong, Master. I appreciate the presence of Master Porte and I know he is busy. I just… I guess it’s a bit of a “culture shock”. Yeah! That makes sense! I mean, I come from a long line of military service. Who knows, I might see about joining the Vanguard one day, or try for naval service still… but it’s rough to think about sometimes. I’ll deal.

Great, he’s asking about the one thing I don’t want to talk about, I guess it makes sense to. I’m “settling”. I mean, I lose my dad, the way he lost his, and he lost his, and his and his… and then my uncle… who taught me how to run and jump with the Force sent me here. My cousin checks in from time to time, I talk to my mother… Stop whining. I’m dealing.

Lorn Reingard