4 - Diligence, growth, loneliness II
Three quick, forward stomps.
Three lethal slashes downward with her sword.
Three times the steel flashed in the faint light of the training yard’s nightlamps.
Three times her voice rang out in sharp, barking cries - one with each slash.
“Hyah! Hyah! Hyah!”
Kthira paused at the end of the movement, staring at the empty air in front of her with poised, unmoving intensity. Her arms burned a subtle, low ache. Layers of sweat covered her body, gleaming against the glow of the nightlamps.
She had performed the move fifty times. There were fifty more to go before the training routine allowed her to rest. And it was only the first cycle of three. So far, Kthira had been the only Initiate to manage all three to completion - the other two trailing closest behind her were Kaylin and the weequay male Anakhu.
Her grip on the sword tightened. She gritted her teeth.
Three more.
“Hyah! Hyah! Hyah!”
She may have been first in her class. It did not matter. She still felt it - quiet and subdued yet absolutely present - that fire inside her. The instinct. The echo Master Z’ressa fully expected her to quell entirely. For the day, it had long since been a lost battle - she had been practicing for two hours, and had far since gone past the point to being able to silence out that urge. She was growing annoyed at it, vexed at it and herself that she couldn’t put out that quiet burning in her core that came each slash at the air. Of course, instead of helping, that vexation only fueled it further.
“Hyah! Hyah! Hyah!”
“Kthira?” A voice suddenly called out - Kaylin’s. She stood by the arched entry to Z’ressa’s training grounds. “What? Why are you here? Why’re you still practicing? Master Z’ressa’s first trial is still three weeks out.”
“And?”
“And today we’re all supposed to be resting and recovering?”
“I don’t need to.”
“What? How -”
“By not needing to. It’s not hard.”
She heard the derision in her own voice, and then the subtle quake from Kaylin’s lips. She instantly regretted her own words. A wince of guilt crossed her face, and she - still in fighting stance - looked to find Kaylin’s pained expression.
“I’m sorry.” And she was - her irritation, her derision, wasn’t truly aimed at Kaylin, it was at that echo inside her. It dulled a little, now.
“… why did you say it like that?”
“I don’t know.”
Kaylin stood in silence, staring at Kthira. Her lower lip quivered, and then she sighed. “Kthira… you should apologize to Vrex for earlier. I know you didn’t mean to do it, but… you could’ve been easier on him. It wasn’t necessary…”
“I know. I… know. You’re right, Kay.” And again, Kaylin was. “I’ll speak to him tomorrow.”
“Why not tonight? We’re heading to that farmstead close by. The family’s hosting a little celebration and they invited some of us. Sort of a ‘thank you’ for helping them with the kath hound trouble.”
“What? Why?”
“Why not? We really helped them out a lot, you know?”
“We didn’t do it for a reward, or gratitude.”
“Gratitude is given, Kthira. Not demanded! You know it would be wrong to spurn it.”
“Right. I didn’t figure they’d be this grateful.”
“Yeah! It’ll be really delicious, too. So, let’s go? We can go straight away! Don’t even need to shower or change your robes or anything. I… I don’t mind.”
That made Kthira pause, and she simply blinked, before slipping into a small grin. “Are you saying I’m dirty?”
“You’re covered in about three bucketfuls of sweat.”
She shrugged. “Hard not to. Kay, go on ahead with everyone. I’ll be by soon.”
Kaylin’s sillouette shrank against the light spilling through the door.
“Kthira… please. Come on. We’ve completed all our lessons, all our current trials. You’re not even supposed to be here. Master Z’ressa isn’t here. None of us is supposed to be training today. Come with us. With me?” Kaylin’s lips thinned, and she remained by the doorway with the light of the Enclave’s corridor behind her.
With a long breath out through her nose, Kthira lowered her sword straight in front of her, stretched upright and leaned her head back, eyes closed towards the sky.
“Please, Kay. Go on ahead. I’ll be over soon.”
“Kthira…” Kaylin’s voice grew thin, controlled. “Why… can’t you stop?”
But she did not budge. She only stared back at the redhead - her decision had been made.
“F-fine. We’ll… we’ll be there,” Kaylin murmured. Lowering her head, she turned and left without a further word.
A pang of guilt again quietly stabbed Kthira as Kaylin rounded out of view. Yet… that pain was immediately swept aside by that quiet burning. She felt it and shook her head. Her jaw tightened. Eyes forward again, she snapped back into the Shii-Cho stance with her blade held in front.
Three quick strikes, three steps froward.
An Intiate’s robes, while comfortable yet humble, did not afford much protection against Dantooine’s colder nights. Not when said Initiate’s body was still covered in layers of sweat from unending exercise. And Kthira had not bother to clean herself after her training was done, when she realized just how long had passed since Kaylin had walked away.
Her robes were stark, snow-white against her dark-blue skin, and billowed in the wind as she rushed down along a dirt path that led away from the Enclave. Moonlight dimly lit it, but tall, thin light-sticks were spaced out at intervals along the path, showing the way to the farmstead.
“Hrm,” she hissed out in breathless effort - her limbs were tired from the night’s solo Shii-Cho practice, but she had to run! If she wanted to make it in time, she had to endure.
A stream drew near, and she crossed a curving stone bridge over it. After, two small hillocks rose - she knew the farmstead was just around the bend.
Its lights were out.
Her heart sank when she came in close enough to see the Farmstead’s yard and found… no-one there. The only sillouettes that moved did so with the telltale twitch of droid’s limbs.
Kthira closed her eyes and stopped herself in her tracks - it was n ouse running. Her face contorte into a momentary cringe, and she shook her head at herself. Disappointment grew, at herself rather than anyone else. After a moment, it was replaced by a painful loneliness as she paced into the Farmstead’s yard, peering at the endless mess of leftover food, crumpled paper, discarded cups. It littered the grass as she passed by the scene of the joyful moment that she had missed entirely.
And her only companions, then, were the cleaning droids as they paced by her without so much as a look.
Suddenly, it was as if she could feel the chill of that night, and the entire situation seemed all too familiar. Once more, she’d ended up… missing it.
She quietly hugged herself - crossing her arms into her robe sleeves. Her body seemed to sag and shrink. Just to her right, she saw a small pile of leftover grilled meats and shredded napkins. Past it there was a circle of chairs, six or maybe eight, just around the total number of other Initiates in her group. Deep inside, she felt a sharp sting at the sight, and her lower lip quivered.
A quiet, pained whine left her… and yet again she felt that quiet, burning echo inside. How? Why? She had managed it, that night. She had finally managed - after so much training - to come into a state where she’d quieted it. And yet, there it was again, creeping in like an unwelcome guest.
“Hahn,” another sigh left her, before she managed to straighten her back and once again still herself. Looking to that pile of leftovers and papers, she reached out a hand to it and gently pushed it - through the Force - onto the path of an oncoming cleaning droid.
“‘Ey. What ya’ doin’ here?!”
Kthira whirled at the hollering. A man was standing there, in the darkness, and she immediately saw recognized the barrel of a hunting blaster rifle levelled her way.
“Wait! Wait. I… I mean you no harm,” she instantly called out, hands rising. “I… I’m an Initiate from the Enclave. I… came here because of a feast? We were invited and… and I came as soon as i could.”
“Uh. What? Yer lil’ too late. ‘bout a couple hours too late. We started cleanin’ up after ourselves an hour ago or somethin’.”
The rifle slowly lowered and he stepped into the light of one of the scant yard lamps. He was tall, strong and old, scraggly and weathered with time and a farmer’s life.
“I… I can see that,” Kthira nodded. “I… suppose I’ll take my leave, then. I’m very sorry to have startled you, friend,” she said in a humorless, tired tone.
As she started to walk away, she turned to look up at him one last time and caught a look of surprise on the man’s face. His arm reached out for her shoulder just as she was a few paces away.
“Hol’. Wait. You’re that Initiate, ain’t you? With all of 'em? I saw you that day with th’Hounds, this week. You were… something else, you were.”
“What? I think-”
“No. No, no. S’you alright. Geez. Y’think I’d miss that skin n’ eyes? And the way ya’ just bloody cut them Hounds down left n’ right. And that other one went down n’ got hurt - the redhead. We saw how ya’ kept the Hounds from her. Tell ya’ the truth, we were more scared a’ you then than the hounds! Ha!”
He didn’t know that his laugh, and his joke, caused more of a pang of guilt inside Kthira than anything else, even if it came out of her lips as a forced chuckle. The man took a moment to lean his rifle against one of the seats, and claimed another one for himself.
“… yes. Alright, yes. That was me,” she knew the man wouldn’t budge. She’d rather he hadn’t recognized her. At that moment, all she wanted was to head back to her bunk and wait for the next day. Focus on her training. Nothing else.
“Bloody hell. You looked like somethin’, alright. S’like you were enjoyin’ it, almost.”
“… I wasn’t.”
“Hey! S’not my business. The way I see it, ya’ll did good that day. Weren’t fer you, my herd would all be dead n’ my nephew with it. Ya’ll did good n’ have our gratitude for it.”
Quietly, she listened and nodded. Her eyed drifted first to him on his chair, then to the droids roving around them.
“Well, I guess I missed it it, huh?”
“Ya did. And s’a damn shame, too. It was a good one!”
He meant it well, with a smile, but only unwittingly caused further harm.
Kthira’s silence seemed to clue him in after long, awkward moments. His white-ish brows knit and furrowed, and he let out a sigh that ruffle his charmingly unkempt old man’s beard. “'Ey, here. C’mon.”
Instistently, almost, he gestured to one of the vacant chairs next to him. Kthira had not the energy to protest.
She felt tired, exhausted even. Her body sank onto the chair and - for a moment - she doubted whether she’d ever managed to stand up from it again.
Beside her, the man tapped into a datapad he fished from a jacket pocket. Far behind them, one of the Farmstead doors hissed open and a droid slowly marched their way.
“You alright, friend? You look like you’ve been fightin’ for weeks.”
“Aheh. No. I’m alright,” she said, feeling how unknowingly right he was.
A few moments, then, and that droid came up behind them, carrying a small tray laden with meats, cheese, bread chunks and juice pressed from the farm’s produce.
“There we go. Ya missed the feast, but I’ll be damned if I’m lettin’ you go with an empty stomach. You damn well deserved what we got ya’ll for today. Heh. S’funny - you Jedi aren’t a big, festive lot. I think this was the quietest n’ least-drunk feast we ever had. Still felt good though!” The countryman had a heavy drawl. Clearly, he was the type to never stop talking once he began.
It wasn’t at all fresh, not as must’ve been in the feast hours before. It was all sitll warm enough, however, and as Kthira chewed she felt how much her body was craving it. Had it really been that long? No, there was something more. Her body was craving that… stillness. It dawned on her, then: it wasn’t that she might never leave that chair due to exhaustion, it was because her body was demanding the stillness.
“I never got yer name, anyway.”
“It’s Kthira.”
“… oh.” She felt, rather than saw, the farmer sag downwards.
“What?”
“Nothin’, nothin’.”
“No, it’s okay. What is it?”
“They uh… mentioned yer name a few times. I heard ‘em talkin’ here and there.”
“And?”
“Well… y’know. I… ah. Hmh. Tha’ red-haired girl? She wasn’t the happiest. Somethin’ tells me you should talk to her. There were one or two others, too. You uh… yeah, you should mebbe talk to some of 'em.”
She couldn’t take it, then. It was a relief - momentarily - that he’d had nothing more to say. Kthira clenched her eyes shut and grit her teeth. Her jaw visibly clenched and her fists closed as she again felt that rising ‘heat’ inside, and willed it silent with a slow exhale.
It was easier to subdue it, in that moment. The silence in the farmstead was a blessing.
“Why didn’t ya’ come, anyway? We wanted all of yas here.”
“I had training.”
“What? And the others didn’t?”
“I wasn’t done with mine.”
The Farmer’s face turned suddenly stern. The craggy lines on his cheeks deepened as he leaned in towards her. He had taken the measure of Kthira, then.
“Well… next time, get it done sooner, girl.” Saying that, then, he motioned his arm behind him in a swooping gesture at the remains of the earlier celebration. “This? All this here that ya’ missed? It woulda’ been worth it. These things’re important.”
“… you’re right.”
Silence sank then, between the two of them.
“Y’got anywhere to be, friend?”
“For now? No. Not really, not anymore.”
“Why don’tcha’ stay a lil’, then? Ain’t ever seen one like you before. I bet you have a story or two, n’ I may have a couple. I’ll have the droids bring in some more to eat.”
Kthira stared up at the stars again. It felt as if they - for a moment - looked down at her with a sense of irony. ‘Stories’.
“Well, like I said… I don’t have anywhere else to be tonight.”
