There is no emotion; there is peace.
The child exhaled, his eyes lightly sealed shut as he focused on becoming completely attuned with his surroundings. Near from the bench on which he sat cross-legged a stream flowed through the meditation gardens within the Jedi Temple. Fish swam through the gentle currents, and Greylam could feel them through the Force, tranquil within the clean waters. The air felt cooler in here, more so than in any other place within the temple. It was a paradise unto itself.
There is no ignorance; there is knowledge.
The gardens had been in the Jedi Temple on Coruscant for centuries, built by masters far older and far wiser than he could ever hope to aspire to. Countless Jedi had meditated among the foliage before him, and traces of their presence still lingered along the stone pathways, within the sand and against the bark of twisted trees. There was history in this place, not one of glory and Republic triumph, but one of seclusion and wisdom.
It was where he usually spent his mornings, before most other Jedi or initiates woke. Sometimes he'd take a holopad with him and read beside a nearby brook; this particular dawn he'd brought an archeology datapad for study, even though he hadn't gotten around to actually reading it. He preferred to meditate in solitude. He'd have plenty of time for study later. Greater truths were found in quiet contemplation.
There is no passion; there is serenity.
Calm, completely calm. Greylam inhaled through his nose and let the feeling wash over him.
There is no death; there is the Force.
It was the binding constant that held the galaxy together. All beings were tied to the Force, and became one with it upon death. One day, he would as well. Everything would. It was nothing to fear, as so many thought. There was no greater peace.
Greylam opened his eyes and looked skyward. Through the windows overhead he saw Coruscant slowly brighten as dawn arrived, the golden gleam of sunlight igniting the sky with an orange-tinted hue. Morning would herald more instruction, more opportunities to learn the ways of the Force from his teachers.
He uncrossed his legs and started to rise. A pair of birds not far from where he sat fluttered away at his movement, vanishing into the ferns. It was a shame to have to leave: the gardens truly held so much life. The Force was in true splendor here, and Greylam could feel the ways in which it all connected the beings within it. Here, more than anywhere, he felt peace.
Perhaps it was because of where he was from, Alderaan, considering its reputation for possessing beautiful flora and fauna. At one point an instructor of his had told him that his eyes were the same color as that of Alderaan's lakes, supposedly beautiful during the summers. He wasn't sure, though, and in fact he could not even recall what Alderaan looked like from personal experience. As with all Force-sensitive children, Greylam had been adopted into the Jedi Order before he could develop any attachments to his parents or any other potential loved ones. At seven years old – only five years since the Order brought him in – he couldn't remember the sound of their voices or any other notable features about them.
Greylam knew well enough that a child outside the Jedi would've felt saddened by that fact. He didn't. It was better this way after all. Attachments led only to emotion, and such emotions could lead down the path to the dark were they to become volatile enough. One's mind must be clear and vigilant, lest it give way to temptation.
Pulling gently through the Force, Greylam brought his boots to his feet and guided them on to his feet. He had already dressed himself in the standard beige garb of a Jedi Initiate, similar to the ones full-fledged Jedi wore under normal circumstances. It was better than having to return to his dormitory to change out of pajamas in order to start his day.
No sooner had he placed them back on did he feel a ripple through the gardens as someone entered the space. Far away he could hear the door open and close, followed by steps that came towards him. Greylam reached out through the empty space with his mind, letting himself feel the new presence, finding it familiar.
By the time Instructor Rel had turned the corner Greylam had already risen, waiting for him attentively. Greylam gave him a polite bow. "Good morning Master Paddoq."
A faint smile crept onto the old man's worn and weathered face. His dark brown skin bore the scars of many battles long past from his days as a Jedi Knight, and his beard had greyed over time. It was a deceptively intimidating look, but the man was nothing but kind to all others. He was a figure present throughout all of Greylam's life, his presence preceding Greylam's own memory.
Rel Paddoq's chestnut-colored eyes studied Greylam for a moment. "I had a feeling I'd find you here," he said, his voice deep and crackling like embers on a hearth, "Why aren't you asleep little youngling? It's still early yet, and you should be getting what rest you can."
"I just wanted some time to meditate before I started my day."
"Most children your age don't approach meditation with quite as much eagerness as you do Greylam. I'm usually hearing how much they want to build a lightsaber or learn sparring."
"I'll learn to fight when it's decided that I'm ready. Fighting should only be used as a last resort, not while striving for glory. Many children don't understand that."
He paused, and Greylam couldn't tell if his response had troubled the instructor. "That being said I'm happy to see that you understand its importance. You have a natural connection to the Force."
"You humble me Master."
There was another gap of silence between them. Then Instructor Rel ruffled Greylam's short ashen hair, gave a gentle wave of his hand, and turned to leave the gardens. "Allow me to walk you to the refectory. I'm sure that you'll want something to eat before your instructions become underway."
Now that he had mentioned it, Greylam noticed his own hunger, a sensation he'd managed to dull during his meditations. He followed close beside Instructor Rel, but kept his focus ahead. Rel was considerably taller than him – taller than most others as well – and Greylam knew it would be hard to stray from the giant man's side. Becoming a Jedi Shadow was likely out of the question even in his younger years.
Rel lead Greylam out of the meditation gardens to a hallway that led to the atrium of the ziggurat. Red carpets with golden embroidery lined the marble flooring, stretching wide across the interior. By now the Jedi Temple was awakening; the clear sky outside allowed the sun a particular shine that slipped through the windows on the far side of the mezzanine across from them. When Greylam had left for his meditations, the chamber had been empty save for the usual temple guardsman. They were not far from the dormitories, and he knew that other parts of the temple likely weren't as populated in the morning hour.
"Tell me Greylam," Instructor Rel said suddenly, "Are there any other younglings at the temple that you would consider your friend?"
Greylam cocked his head at the instructor's question. "Friends?"
"I ask only because you seem more solitary than the other initiates here. You are often sitting or eating alone when you're not meditating. Believe me, you're excelling at your classes, but you have trouble communicating."
"Forgive me Master, but I don't wholly see the relevance," Greylam started, "Our purpose here is to learn the ways of the Force and the teachings of the Jedi. Isn't that what I've been doing?"
Instructor Rel nodded, though his eyes remained grave. "You've become quite familiar with texts and philosophers key to our order that is true. I have little doubt of your intellectual capacities, but there is more to being a Jedi than our philosophies. A true Jedi must know how to communicate with others, know how to deescalate situations before the need for fighting ever emerges. It is the application of our philosophies that is important, not just the words themselves. Flowers do not grow from the concept of rain alone.
"And it is there where I have concern for you, Greylam. While you have a great understanding of the Force at such a young age, I fear that you have little talent for communication. For example, what if, one day when you're a Jedi Knight, you have a padawan who expresses confusion over one of the Order's teachings? What would you tell them?"
"I would explain it to them again until they can remember it."
"Ah, you misunderstand me. This hypothetical protégé of yours knows what this teaching says, but fiercely disagrees with it. How would you go proceed?"
Greylam raised a perplexed eyebrow. His teacher's line of questioning seemed odd, as did their whole conversation. "B-but why wouldn't they? The teachings are straightforward. There isn't much room for any confusion of that sort."
"And yet some still fall to the dark, even great Jedi once known for compassion and mercy." Rel turned towards a nearby balcony and gestured for Greylam to join him. Down below the atrium teemed with life, and he felt the Force alive and connecting them all. "It is not impossible to think that we may have a future Sith down there," Rel continued, "Those not trained to calm their emotions will give in to them if they are not careful. But it's nothing to fear, not if you can help others through their pain.
"Your mind is like a still pond Greylam: placid. Not everyone's is. I want you to reach out, feel the emotions of those around you."
Greylam did as he was instructed, closing his eyes as he went to touch the minds of the other students and Jedi. Many were neutral, as he would've expected, but he sensed other things as well: joy, excitement, hope. They were those who were truly happy to be on Coruscant, possibly new arrivals. Greylam felt one presence in the crowd though, one whose feeling seemed muted, intentionally so, as though he was restraining his mind from broaching the subjects it was subtly cognitive of. He reached further, parsing through the student's different emotions, deeper towards the ones he kept at the back of his mind. Jealousy. Envy towards his companions and their superior skills, frustration towards their mentors for feeling held back in his lessons. Greylam released himself from the student's thoughts and opened his eyes.
"What did you feel?" Rel asked.
"Tumult. To continue with your water analogy, it was as though a turbulent river," Greylam replied. Pain ebbed at the sides of his forehead as he furrowed his eyebrows. "I don't understand Master. Why would he feel anger in not being at the same place as his peers? Isn't it more important that he learns as opposed to the speed at which he learns it?"
"Many people don't think like that. Too many are blinded by ambition, and we live in a great big galaxy where many place their ambition paramount to everything else." After another pause Instructor Rel continued, "What would you say to that student, if you could sense his disturbances through the Force?"
Greylam shrugged. The teachings were clear, with no room for doubt. The student should know better than to ruminate on frustrations beyond their control. It was the way of the Sith to believe in such foolhardy ambition, to seek to dominate the Force's will. Peace, within and without, came from acknowledging the simple fact that one cannot. It was baffling that the student in question couldn't understand that lesson; it was such a simple one.
"I can sense your confusion Greylam. The fact that you cannot think up an answer is the source of my concern in the first place." Rel did not sound upset with him, and his tone remained even. "Your words can be more powerful than any lightsaber if you allow the Force to move through them and ease the pain of others. We have an incredible gift, being able to sense what most can only guess at. Being a Jedi is just as much about compassion as it is keeping peace in the Republic and galaxy at large. Do you understand what I'm telling you?"
"I…I think so," Greylam said tentatively, still thinking on the instructor's words. He felt a twinge of guilt, regret that he'd failed his master before he'd ever even known of the lesson. Greylam then cringed, realizing that he was letting his own emotions get the better of him.
"Breathe," Rel said suddenly, "I can feel your distress it is not wrong to have emotions, only to let yourself feed on their darker impulses. Now, I want to teach you an exercise that was taught to me when I was young. Close your eyes again."
"Okay," Greylam said, complying with Rel's command.
"Imagine that you are carrying the entire weight of your anxiety in your arms. It's heavy, and you strain as you try to carry it. Most cannot carry such a burden. Now picture your fears, your anger, your sadness, all of it shrinking in front of you until it's nothing more than a smooth grey pebble in the palm of your hand. Anyone can handle a pebble."
Greylam conjured the image in his mind, seeing himself with a massive boulder as Rel had stated. Then, bit by bit, it seemed as though the wind whittled shavings off the large rock, breaking it down until it was an ovular grey shape that reflected the sunlight around them. In his mind Greylam saw himself tilt his palm to the side, allowing the pebble to fall from his hand. When it hit the ground, the floor seemed to ripple as though water, and Greylam opened his eyes. To his surprise he felt lighter than before, and his distress – however minor – was gone.
"Thank you Master," Greylam said with a dutiful bow, "And forgive me for letting my anxiousness cloud my thoughts. It was unbecoming of me as your pupil."
"There's nothing to forgive little one."
"Master," Greylam continued, meeting Rel's eyes with renewed confidence, "How might I seek to better myself in conversation?"
"As I said before, make friends, talk to people," Rel said, "Granted I'm not saying to go as far as leaving the academy and work on becoming a senator or anything." He cracked a dry smile. "We have too many politicians as is if you ask me. It's going to be the downfall of the Republic. But in all seriousness, I want you to reach out to some of the other initiates here. I sense the potential within you to become a great Jedi, one who could leave a great impact on the Order.
"We have a number of Jedi out right now searching for potential recruits across the galaxy. The war with the Sith is steadily taking a toll on us, and we'll need more Jedi once it's over to maintain the Order's role as peacekeepers of Republic. Most of the new initiates they find will be close to your age. Befriend them. Help them as they grow into the next generation of Jedi. I sense within you someone who is worth following."
Greylam nodded. "I'll try."
"No."
"What?"
"Either succeed, or fail. Allow the Force to guide you, but in the end, you will either succeed or fail. There is no trying," Rel said, "A saying I heard once, or at least something to that effect. Do not fear what may pass, but approach every challenge with all that you have."
"You'll help me, right?"
Rel closed his eyes and shook his head. "Unfortunately this is something you must brave on your own. In three days' time I will be traveling to rendezvous with other Jedi at Ord Radama. There's been some Republic intelligence that suggests the Sith are going to make an attempt at reclaiming it, and I've been asked to assist some of the preparation for its defense. I'll be gone for a little while."
"Oh." The thought of his instructor heading into a warzone filled Greylam with unease, but then he focused on the exercise Rel had just taught him. A pebble in his hand. That's all his concern needed to be. Anyone could handle a pebble. It was light, and he could let it go without difficulty. "How fares the war? Will the hostilities persist much longer?"
A smile cracked at the edges of Rel's mouth. "That's not something a child such as yourself should have any concern about." Rel waved him along, and Greylam matched him stride. "I've talked your ear off long enough. You've more than earned something to eat."
They walked in amiable silence through the Jedi Temple's halls towards the refectory, during which Greylam reflected on the initial question Rel had poised to him. It was true that he lacked close peers whom he considered his friend, but he wasn't friendless. The notion made him smile, and for Rel he would try harder. As they ate breakfast Greylam spoke of the things he'd learned in various codex entries: history, geology, engineering, and so forth, all while Rel listened in sage silence.
It wasn't until months later that he understood the importance of that final lesson, and that Rel probably knew it was the last time Greylam would ever see him alive.
A/N: I'm going to try to avoid doing to many author's notes, but I just wanted to take a second to thank everyone who's been reading. I meant to upload this sooner, but I caught a cold, which in turn hampered my progress. We've got one more character introduction before things get really underway, so I apologize if the fic seems meandering right now. I've also got a tumblr that I'm uploading these to as well; later on there's a chance that uploads I make there will possess marginally different content (only because there is some content I have in mind that straddles the line between T and M, and until I have a better understanding I don't want to risk it here). If there's enough interest I'll eventually type out the link.
