The training room was quiet save for the hum of her weapon, and the shuffling and pattering of her little feet. She went through the most basic motions and velocities of the Determination form; stances, sweeps and steps both measured and relentless. In truth, she savored these hours - they were an opportunity to build up a sweat and burn off her energy during the otherwise subdued days in the Temple. From the side of the room, her mentor's words bade her to stop.
"You move well. But, it is not your joints and muscles that should dictate your movement. You must find your center, flow with the Force, or Shii-Cho, and Ashla itself, will continue to elude you."
Cryptic as ever, the girl thought, as she deactivated the training weapon and bowed her head. She was sure she was improving; beginning to open herself up to the tides of what was around her, but it would be decades until she truly understood the lessons beyond the physical. As she straightened, she noticed her muscles whined and protested from the strain. She had a long way to go, but then, what youngling didn't?
It was with some reluctance that she concluded the session. While she loved the temple and could appreciate its quiet hallways and meditation chambers, there were moments like this one when she felt, frankly, perfectly stuck - removed from the greater world. Eight years had she lived here, and she was beginning to wonder what else there was.
Her mentor would not be her mentor, however, if she had not picked up on this change in her pupil. Indeed, it would not take a genius to predict that, for all the wonders in this place, a Twi'lek child would begin to chafe, not unlike a puppy kept indoors. For the most part, she had reinforced in her pupil the ideal that she simply must pledge and dedicate and devote herself to her training, but all training must be sustainable, and she had been a child as well, once.
"After you've cleaned up, we have been assigned a task in the Fobosi District. The courtyard, in half an hour."
The Miraluka woman turned to leave; she did not need her gifts of sight to note the budding excitement in the young girl. Isha'ran washed up so quickly that she arrived fifteen minutes early - though her tunic was on backwards. If her mentor noticed, she gave no sign but her usual nod. As the pair began their trip, the spring in the girl's step was obvious.
Her eyes were wide and her head swiveled this way and that as they made their way through the streets of the city-planet. Vendors peddled their colorful wares, so different from the subdued browns and whites. Unknown but delicious scents drifted from other stalls; hot food that was decidedly less sober than her usual fare. Students of all species made their way to the university that shared this district, and the girl did her best not to stare or show too much excitement.
The streets were so busy; she subconsciously began to hide behind her mentor's robes as they turned down one of the larger streets. It seemed like they passed a dozen people every second, and she wondered how anyone could possibly keep up with this. Force sensitivity did not help matters in the slightest; it was all overwhelming to her senses, accustomed as they had become to stillness and introspection. For a moment, it became decidedly too much, as she retreated to the relative stillness and safety of an alleyway. Her mentor followed, curiously.
"What is the matter?"
It pained the girl to admit it, to this person most of all, but she was not a liar. Peeking around the corner and holding onto the nearest wall as if it would help ground her, she looked up at her mentor and hoped for understanding.
"There's... there’s too much happening. It feels like drowning in a wild river."
"Ah... aptly put. Take your time; we have plenty."
"Thank you, master. It seems I'm not as fearless as I'd like to think."
The response elicited a curious look from the woman, who knelt down by her pupil with a worried tone.
"Is that what you desire? To be fearless?"
"Well.. the Temple teaches serenity-"
Her words trailed off when the Miraluka shook her head, ever so slightly.
"I am glad you describe your fear as a river, Isha'ran, because you do not learn how to swim if you spend your life avoiding rivers. Do not wish to be fearless. It is only when you are very afraid that you can come to know courage. We are brave not when we are fearless, but when we decide that something is more important than our fear. Do you think a battle droid is courageous? That a machine knows serenity?"
Interesting questions, and the girl's nerves flared up as she remembered that she was approaching the age where initiates might be selected as padawans. She wanted desperately to answer intelligently, but though her mind raced, wit is often most elusive when we want to show it. She responded, instead, with a few words that were generally regarded as humble, if not wise:
"I don't know. What do you think?"
It was always difficult to tell the woman's state of mind, but this time the corners of her mouth lifted ever so slightly. She stayed kneeling and placed her hand over the child's heart.
"The tranquility you seek lies in the mastery of one's heart, not in its abandonment, and not in its exaltation. In the same way, do not lock away your heart for the sake of the Temple, or anyone. You cannot possibly guard against turmoil, this river you feel, if you have never known the power of its currents. It is only when you've known sorrow, known heartbreak, known joy, that you can master your heart instead of fearing it, or worse, being slave to it.”
It was a great deal to process for the young girl, and her eyes drifted down to the street as she lingered on the implications of what was said.
"Something to meditate on, hmm?"
The Miraluka offered her hand, which Isha'ran took happily. The rest of the trip was spent in thoughtful silence, and indeed, somehow, the deafening street never looked nearly as frightening. The girl was reminded how fortunate she was to have this mentor - and she would never quite be the same for it.
