The Flame Major
Did Caelag Vass, a Miraluka blessed with natural affinity to the force, at the cost of her natural sight, fear that which granted her the ability to perceive the world?
The answer should be simple.. it should be no. That there was no fear she held for her sight in the same way a human feared nothing over their eyes, or tongue. Yet she found the answer to be.. muddied. She wasn't afraid of the force, she did not wake up in cold sweat at the thought of it, nor did she find it repulsive or wretched. Yet whenever she considered it, the abilities it granted both her and others, she found..
Pity. She pitied those who relied on it, who used it. She pitied the Jedi, so adherent to the force that their very existence was bound to their ideals. She pitied the sith, consumed by their desire to gain more of this strange ability. She pitied those between, caught in a never ending war between two ideologies that tore the galaxy asunder time and again. She pitied the legionaries of the Iron Empire, who sought to be useful with this capability...
She pitied herself, for whom the world was dark and empty without her crutch. For how long had her eyes been a subject of mockery? For how long had her inability to sustain herself without help been an embarrassment? How long had she been a failure, a sub par soldier with an above average survival rate? Longer than she would care to admit.
And who among her new nation's citizens could she turn to to talk about this? Not the princess, even if she were available for someone as low as she to converse with regularly, for the princess was removed from her plights entirely. Not the Legionaries, for they wouldn't understand what it was like to be caught in the ever turning wheel of the Force, unable to escape its lure entirely. Well, perhaps one Legionary, amusingly enough.
Preator [member="Théodred Heavenshield"] alone seemed to even care to listen. She'd spoken to him more than once, though never in great depth regarding the Force. To her all that had ever mattered, all she had ever voiced to the man, had been her desire to serve, and prove her usefulness. She'd spoken at length of how grateful she was for her comrades and their willingness to serve under an alien, even if she was a near human, and even expressed once her fear of failing the Empire.
Today though, he would find their meeting to be vastly different. And hopefully, she would be able to quiet the fears in her heart. It was with this mindset, the mindset that Theo would help her quiet the force within her, and allow her to serve as a soldier without its painful reminder, that she approached their meeting place within their nation's capital, and nervously glanced about. She wore a plain set of clothes, with slacks and a buttoned shirt, and her cloak about her neck. She stuck out... if only because so few saw her out of the armor.
The answer should be simple.. it should be no. That there was no fear she held for her sight in the same way a human feared nothing over their eyes, or tongue. Yet she found the answer to be.. muddied. She wasn't afraid of the force, she did not wake up in cold sweat at the thought of it, nor did she find it repulsive or wretched. Yet whenever she considered it, the abilities it granted both her and others, she found..
Pity. She pitied those who relied on it, who used it. She pitied the Jedi, so adherent to the force that their very existence was bound to their ideals. She pitied the sith, consumed by their desire to gain more of this strange ability. She pitied those between, caught in a never ending war between two ideologies that tore the galaxy asunder time and again. She pitied the legionaries of the Iron Empire, who sought to be useful with this capability...
She pitied herself, for whom the world was dark and empty without her crutch. For how long had her eyes been a subject of mockery? For how long had her inability to sustain herself without help been an embarrassment? How long had she been a failure, a sub par soldier with an above average survival rate? Longer than she would care to admit.
And who among her new nation's citizens could she turn to to talk about this? Not the princess, even if she were available for someone as low as she to converse with regularly, for the princess was removed from her plights entirely. Not the Legionaries, for they wouldn't understand what it was like to be caught in the ever turning wheel of the Force, unable to escape its lure entirely. Well, perhaps one Legionary, amusingly enough.
Preator [member="Théodred Heavenshield"] alone seemed to even care to listen. She'd spoken to him more than once, though never in great depth regarding the Force. To her all that had ever mattered, all she had ever voiced to the man, had been her desire to serve, and prove her usefulness. She'd spoken at length of how grateful she was for her comrades and their willingness to serve under an alien, even if she was a near human, and even expressed once her fear of failing the Empire.
Today though, he would find their meeting to be vastly different. And hopefully, she would be able to quiet the fears in her heart. It was with this mindset, the mindset that Theo would help her quiet the force within her, and allow her to serve as a soldier without its painful reminder, that she approached their meeting place within their nation's capital, and nervously glanced about. She wore a plain set of clothes, with slacks and a buttoned shirt, and her cloak about her neck. She stuck out... if only because so few saw her out of the armor.