Private The Summit of Unease

[Lorn Reingard]

Tags: Brandyn Sal-Soren

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The wind whipped around the Meditation Summit, carrying with it the scent of pine and damp dirt. Lorn sat cross-legged upon the smooth, worn stone, his gaze fixed on the horizon. The setting sun painted the sky in hues of fiery orange and deep violet, a beautiful, almost melancholic backdrop to his troubled thoughts. He'd been here for nearly an hour, patiently waiting for Brandyn Sal-Soren.

His fingers drummed a restless rhythm against his thigh as he replayed the events of the past few days in his mind. His encounter with Cerys, Brandyn's new Padawan, had been… chaotic, to say the least. He hadn't meant to stumble upon her, a whirlwind of frustrated energy, dismantling training droids with brutal efficiency. Her anger, palpable even from a distance, had drawn him in like a moth to a flame. He'd meant to offer gentle guidance, perhaps a listening ear, but his own competitive spirit had taken over.

They had sparred, and he'd pushed her. He'd felt her potential, the raw, untamed power simmering beneath the surface, and he'd recklessly tried to draw it out. He had dialed up the intensity, assuming she could handle it, driven by a desire to see her flourish. His eagerness had been a blindfold, obscuring the fact that he was pushing too hard. He now realized that she wasn't ready for that level of intensity. And then it had fallen apart.

He could still see the flicker of panic in her eyes, the way her movements had become jerky and unsure before she'd fled, humiliated and probably even more frustrated than before. Lorn winced at the memory of his own clumsy attempts to reassure her as she turned tail and fled. He had sounded like a rambling, insecure fool. He should have been more mindful, more patient. He was a Jedi Knight, for the Force's sake, not some brash youngling trying to prove something.

His message to Brandyn was plain, a confession tinged with guilt. Now, as he waited, Lorn hoped to mitigate the damage, to explain himself before word of the incident, undoubtedly embellished, found its way back to Brandyn. But beyond the apology, he was curious. What had driven Cerys to that level of raw emotion? What had made her lash out at the training droids with such fury? Was it more than just frustration with her new training? She seemed so guarded, so volatile, like a spark waiting to ignite.
Lorn felt a pull, a desire to understand her, even help if he could. Perhaps Brandyn had more information on her past, what made her tick.

The last sliver of the sun dipped below the horizon, casting long, dancing shadows over the summit. Lorn wrapped his cloak tighter around himself, the cool night air settling in.

 

[Brandyn Sal-Soren]

Tightly laced boots crunched through refrozen layers of snow as Brandyn walked across a field, cutting off the corner of the path. He hadn't remembered the path being so long to get up here, but perhaps it was just how frigid it was. This was not the most ideal place Brandyn could think of for a meeting. A summit one might say.

Brandyn smirked at the cleverness of his mental word play. Perhaps he could slip it into a discussion and sound smarter than he really was. Cybelle would have laughed.

The very thought of his wife brought a lightness to his steps as he started to bound up the stairs towards his destination. He was meeting one, Lorn Reingard, the Jedi Knight he had recently met only briefly at the Life Day celebrations. He seemed like a decent sort. Blaire seemed eager to shove Briana into his life...literally. It was too soon for her, He thought.

This meeting was regarding Cerys. The young padawan had already created her fair share of drama in the short time she had been on Naboo. She had a lot to work through. Brandyn had tried various things to get her to come to her own realisations about her issues, but so far they had kept themselves pent up.

"You could have chosen a place inside. Maybe by a fire. My place next time. Cybelle makes a mean cup of cocoa," he said as he finally fell in earshot of the Jedi.

Brandyn tugged his thick fur lined coat around him, and pulled his hood up over his head. He squinted into the breeze, tears forming from the irritation.

"You wanted to see me?"

Lorn Reingard

 

[Lorn Reingard]

Tags: Brandyn Sal-Soren

​

Lorn turned, seeing Brandyn approach. "Brandyn," he acknowledged. He knew he could have chosen somewhere warmer, closer to the temple. But this place held a draw, a sense of peace he found nowhere else, and the view, vibrant and unmatched, was more than enough reason to brave the chill.

A wry smile touched Lorn's lips. "Does the cold bother you?" he teased, watching as Brandyn adjusted his coat, the wind tugging at the fur trim. He suppressed the urge to make another joke, knowing he wasn't quite familiar enough with Brandyn for easy banter. Instead, he addressed Brandyn's unspoken question.

"Yes, I did," Lorn admitted, his gaze drifting to the darkening horizon. "It's about Cerys. We… had a training session earlier, and it didn't go well." He hesitated, choosing his words carefully.

"She was angry about a lack of lightsaber training so I thought I could help. I pushed her too hard. She… became upset, and I handled it poorly. I wanted to explain myself and apologize."

Lorn's gaze flickered back towards the horizon, now devoid of color. "You have an exceptional Padawan. She just always seems so upset. I only wanted to help." He didn't want to dwell on the details of his blunder, or on his own lack of understanding. He was here to own his mistakes and, just as much, to try and understand Cerys better.

 

[Brandyn Sal-Soren]

"Yeah, it's cold," he grizzled.

The view was nice though. Brandyn wandered for just a moment if it was a spot that Cybelle would like. Most likely it would have been. She found the good in everything. And in everyone.

His mind slipped ever so briefly back to the moment above Exegol. The moment she had died. The moment a Sith had brought her back to life. She was a live because she had seen good in that man. But what had he done to her beyond just bringing her back. They still didn't know, but it wasn't nothing.

Lorn's discussion of Cerys brought him back to the moment. Brandyn suppressed a smile. He had heard rumours of her complaints about the lack of saber training. She had not come to him about it yet. And that was clearly the most important thing she should be doing.

He let Lorn say his piece, but did not appear bothered in the slightest.

"Thank you for letting me know," he said, "and yes she is exceptional...almost like the lessons she needs right now are not related to her skill."

Brandyn stepped past Lorn to look out over the vista. He patted his fellow Jedi on the shoulder reassuringly. There was nothing more to say about Lorn's part in their spar. Brandyn wasn't about to lecture him or anything.

"She does not lack skill. She lacks control...especially of that anger...too many unaddressed hurts that are going to fester away until they destroy her," Brandyn said into the breeze, "my theory is that frustration might bring the infection to head...draw it out...then we can deal with it once and for all. If she can deal with this baggage...we could promote her to be a knight in our order almost immediately."

Lorn Reingard

 

[Lorn Reingard]

Tags: Brandyn Sal-Soren

​

Lorn watched Brandyn, his words hanging in the crisp, cold air. He had expected a reprimand, perhaps a lecture on the proper way to handle a Padawan's frustration. Instead, Brandyn had offered an analysis that was both insightful and unsettling. 'Baggage,' Brandyn called it, 'unaddressed hurts'. The phrase resonated with Lorn, a dark chime of recognition in his own heart. He knew what it was to carry the weight of past pain, to let it fester and consume.

Lorn turned his head slightly, the dying light reflecting in his eyes, tracing the jagged edges of the landscape. He'd heard whispers about Cerys's ferocity, her unwavering intensity. He had attributed it to a strong will, a fiery spirit, but now, Brandyn's words painted a different picture, one of a deeper struggle concealed beneath the surface.

"What kind of… baggage?" Lorn asked, his voice a low murmur, barely audible above the wind. He didn't dare make it sound like an accusation, he was genuinely concerned and curious. His gaze focused on Brandyn's profile, probing for more insight. "Is it something I could… help with? I know a little about carrying pain." he added, a hint of self-deprecation in his tone. He may have stumbled with Cerys during their training, but the last thing Lorn wanted was for her to become the kind of person that he was... or was becoming.

He didn't presume to fully understand Cerys, but his own past made his heart ache for the younger Padawan. He couldn't shake the feeling that he had, in some way, exacerbated the issue. He'd gone in with good intentions, wanting to aid her growth, but in the end, he might have just made things worse. If Brandyn thought that bringing her frustration to a head was a good idea, then Lorn wanted to be there to help, to guide, to do his part in this complicated puzzle. He wanted to help Cerys take all of that anger, that hurt, and make it her strength.

 

[Brandyn Sal-Soren]

A mournful smile was offered as Brandyn's only reply for a while. They all knew something about carrying pain. This was not something uncommon. Lorn's ability to help would not come from carrying the pain but how Brandyn perceived he dealt with it. So far, he had been reltively neutral in his impression of Lorn's ability in this regard, though Brandyn was not one to lecture anyone in coping with trauma.

He closed his eyes as visions of a dead young woman hung in his memory. His heart was heavy with the unrecognised loss, the potential loss. He had been overwhelmed enough with post-wedded bliss that he had not had time to think on the most recent of traumas, but it was settling in slowly. None of this helped Lorn, nor Cerys.

"Can I trust you with this knowledge, Lorn?" Brandyn asked pointedly. Lorn had admitted to having over done it in the training room. Cerys' baggage did not need someone that would be heavy handed, nor overly precise in their dealings. It needed subtlety and humility. Should Cerys figure it out 'on her own', both Brandyn and anyone that helped her get there needed to be alright with this being her story.

It was not their story. It was hers.

He looked at Lorn again. The question lingering with a hint of distrust in his gaze. He wanted help. Hell, Brandyn wasn't even sure he was doing the right thing, but rather was as usual trusting his gut.

Lorn Reingard

 

[Lorn Reingard]

Tags: Brandyn Sal-Soren

​

Lorn's gaze didn't waver. He met Brandyn's distrust head-on, the dying light catching the subtle shift in his expression. It wasn't anger, or offense - those were too easy, too familiar. Instead, a quiet resolve settled over him. He understood the weight of what Brandyn was asking, the unspoken implication that this wasn't just idle curiosity. It was about Cerys, about her vulnerability, and about handling that with care.

He straightened, the wind tugging at his tunic, and spoke with a measured certainty that belied the turmoil he often kept hidden. "You can." he declared, his voice firm, the murmur gone, "You can trust me. I won't be clumsy with this. I know what it's like to feel exposed, to have someone poke at the wrong places. Cerys deserves better than that, and I... I don't want to be the one who makes things worse for her."

 

[Brandyn Sal-Soren]

Sal-Soren offered a half-smile in return. It was fair to acknowledge that he didn't know Lorn much beyond this encounter and one other brief meeting at the Life Day event. Still, he did not get to be a Jedi Knight without having some level of inherent trustworthiness.

Brandyn looked back out over the vista. A stronger gust hit him which caused him to close his eyes and wish for hot cocoa and a certain Hapan's embrace. His teeth chatted together.

"OK...I actually hate it up here..."

He turned, pulling his coat in tighter around him and glaring at Lorn for a second. There was more judgment over meeting place than over anything else they had discussed.

"Cerys' master died during the Dark Empire invasion of Coruscant. I am pretty sure she blames herself for not being strong enough," Brandyn said, talking over the increasing wind, "it is not an uncommon problem...add to that her unique training with said master...it makes her a little bit like a square peg in a round hole...just look up whatever the archives have to say about the Order of the Old Oaths. That will shed some light on matters. I welcome any input...she needs friends. She needs to see that a path of more power is not going to bring her master back...and she may just lose herself on the path to realising that."

Brandyn blew into his hands to try and warm himself.

"Just let me know how things go...alright?"

Lorn Reingard

 

[Lorn Reingard]

Tags: Brandyn Sal-Soren

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A small grin tugged at the corners of Lorn's mouth, a barely perceptible shift that he quickly tried to hide. He dipped his head slightly, pretending to be intensely focused on the rocky ground at his feet, hoping to obscure the amusement that had flickered across his face. The wind whipped around them, biting at exposed skin, and hearing the Knight yearn for a warmer meeting place made Lorn chuckle. Naboo kept all these Jedi soft it seemed.

Lorn straightened as Brandyn continued, the amusement fading as Lorn listened intently. A dead master, the burden of guilt - these were all too familiar echoes of his own past. He felt a surge of grim recognition, a sudden understanding of the weight Cerys carried. They shared similar burdens and that bond, however tenuous it may be at the moment, meant something to him. The Order of the Old Oaths, however, that was new. He'd have to delve into the archives for answers.

He finally met Brandyn's gaze again, his expression now one of solemn understanding. "I will," he promised, his voice steady and low, cutting through the wind. "I'll reach out if anything arises. We can meet somewhere warmer." He nodded curtly, a gesture that conveyed both understanding of Brandyn's concern and acknowledgment that Lorn wouldn't keep him anymore. He would linger a little longer at the summit, the chill bringing a sense of clarity as he contemplated how to best help Cerys, and perhaps, in doing so, help himself.