Star Wars - Shadow War
Young and tall with platinum blonde hair, the girl appears serene but some may suspect there is more occurring beneath her calm disposition.
Quiet and polite, the padawan seems collected to the untrained eye. Little beknownst to most, a battle rages beneath the surface of her cool exterior which she takes great care to conceal. Her face a mask, she regards you with a small bow before resuming her meditation.
Hooded in a silver cloak, eyes closed, she kneels with her hands folded over her chest. Her hair, a pale blonde, hangs somewhat messily over her armored shoulders. Clearly, she hasn’t had time to keep up her appearance but who knows what a Jedi’s priorities are.
Propped up against a wall near where she sits is an odd-looking blade, while sharp, you surmise must be quite old, albeit obsolete. You have no doubt this girl can use it effectively despite not yet being fully inducted into the Order.
Pain. So much pain.
There is no emotion, there is peace.
They don’t prepare you for this… torrent of sorrow and anger that comes with experiencing the loss of a family member. While not actually related, he was all the family she needed and she could not imagine how the bond of blood could make it much worse.
There is no ignorance, there is knowledge.
He raised her and painstakingly trained her while her biological parents wallowed in their grandiose palace of greed and excess.
There is no passion, there is serenity.
As far as Auria was concerned, her master was her Father despite the admonitions of the Jedi Code and the teachings of her mentors. “No attachments” and “letting go of the past”.
There is no chaos, there is harmony.
Auria inhaled deeply and swept her arm across her brow. She is sweating despite being completely still and her quarters’ perfectly maintained room temperature. Even though it has been several years since Master Preet was killed in front of her, she still struggles with the memory of it; meditation usually allows her to focus and clear her mind but the memory would not abate even then. A flutter of fear stirred in her belly at the thought that maybe she isn’t cut out to be a Jedi. Surely, her master and his peers didn’t suffer from these bouts of turmoil… did they?
Perhaps they did. But instead of languishing and being consumed by it, they reshaped it, honed it, and turned it into a tool rather than a weapon. A tool for good, to help others as the Force wills it. She believes her master would like that. He would want to see his pupil use his memory to help others and she intends to; she does not want others to suffer as she does or as he did. She vowed to protect the weak and the innocent and to help those who need it. The natural choice then was to join the burgeoning Rebel Alliance as they not only needed her help, but she also needed theirs in order to reach those that are being persecuted and oppressed by the Empire.
See these pillars, Wist? They are what holds up all that we are and what we believe in. You are a rough chunk of rock- do not give me that face. A chunk of rock that I will help chisel away at and one day shape into one of these pillars. But you will also bear a great weight, and on that day, you will remain strong. This, I know.
That was at the temple when she was just a youngling. “Remain strong”. He said those two words before he charged to his death to ensure her survival. She thought she understood what he was telling her, but that memory of when she was a child… there is no mistake. He was telling her to adhere to and honor the Jedi Code. His wish was for her to keep it alive and uphold it. Unfolding from her meditative position, she stood suddenly.
The Rebels. They must know where I can find them. There are more like me and others that have the spark and they must be kept safe.
Donning her cloak, she fastened her ancient blade to her hip, and uttered, “There is no death, there is the Force,” before striding away from the dark room.