"I seek your guidance, Master," Kara solemnly told her own mentor, lowing her head, "but I am ashamed to ask."
"Share your troubles, Kara," her former teacher invited her warmly. "The Jedi Order may be a lonely one, but it not without support."
With a soft sigh of resignation, the younger Jedi Master shared, "I have failed my padawan, Master."
"How so?"
"She has turned to the Dark Side," Kara confessed, cheeks burning red with disappointment and guilt. "It is me who failed to lead her to the Light. I did try, Master, but I—"
As Kara's speech became pressured, her teacher slowly put her open hand up and softly chastised her, "Calm yourself, Kara. What makes you so sure that it is you who has failed her?"
"Because I am... was... her master. She looked to me for guidance, and I failed to heed the warning signs of the Darkness within that tormented and tempted her."
There was a long pause, during which Kara was unable to raise her gaze. It was too much to ask to look her mentor in the eyes, but had she done so, she would have found a gentle, comforting expression of compassion looking back at her. Knowing not what to expect, but fearing the worst, the younger Jedi's intense guilt and grief consumed her, and her shame kept her eyes cast down at her feet.
"Lift your gaze, and do not be ashamed," her teacher instructed her.
Swallowing her fear, Kara looked up.
"Yes, Master," she whispered, a lump forming in her throat as tears filled her eyes.
"Your emotion blinds you now." Kara didn't know what to say to this, so she remained silent as her former master continued, asking, "Did you teach her to manipulate and bend the Force to her will?"
"No. I only ever taught her to use the Force for good, and to let it flow through her, as it flows through all things. Just as you taught me, Master."
"And did you force her betray The Order?"
"No, but—"
"Did youteach her the way of hate?"
"No, but I should have known she would—"
"Kara," her mentor calmly admonished her with the sternness of her tone. "You could not have known she would turn to the Dark Side. You did not ask this of her. You did not teach this to her. You did not force her hand. You did your best to lead her to the Light and to respect the Force. Her decision - her path - to choose the Dark Side was her own." When Kara was silent, her teacher added, "I believe that in your heart, you know this."
"In my heart, I fear I failed her by not heeding the warning signs early on. For not guiding her properly. I also fear that it was own response to her trial that was her breaking point."
"Ah," the older Jedi mused. "So she failed her trial."
Kara nodded.
"And this was the final turning point in her choice between light and dark?"
Again, a nod.
"I'd like you to hear me say something, Kara, and I want you to reflect on my exact words."
"Yes, Master..." Kara agreed, looking up into her master's eyes.
"She—" the older Jedi emphasized the first word "—failed her trial. You did not fail her."
"But wasn't I supposed to train her? Wasn't it me who was supposed to make her ready?"
With a knowing smile, Kara's master commented, "As Jedi Masters, we not make our padawans ready for anything. They grow to become Jedi and pass their trial, or they do not. There is only do, or not. There is no try."
Reflecting on this, Kara bit her lip, feeling more unsure and insecure than she had since her first day of Jedi training. Suddenly, her emotions were running rampant within her, filling her with suffering and self-doubt.
"I am afraid of her power, Master," Kara finally confessed. "She is strong in the Force."
This time, the older Jedi nodded.
"Be not afraid. Trust the Force that runs within you and between all things. As Jedi, we seek to restore the balance of the Force. We seek to bring peace. I understand that you are concerned, Kara, but fear... Fear leads to anger. Anger leads to hatred. And hatred leads to suffering. You know this."
"Yes, Master. I do."
"Then trust this lesson. Trust the teachings I gave you so long ago. You are still young, but you are a Jedi Master, Kara. You are well equipped to guide, teach, and lead. Doubt that, do not."
With a sigh of doubt, Kara nodded weakly, but her master sensed her apprehension.
"Do you not trust me?" her teacher asked, her tone almost teasing.
Eyes wide, Kara replied, "Of course I trust you! I just—"
"Do, or do not."
"But I—"
"Do you, or do you not?" the older master challenged.
"I do."
"Do not trust me," Kara's teacher chuckled good naturedly. "Trust the Force, Kara, and trust yourself."
"But—"
"You will know what to do when the time comes."
"What time?"
"The time to face her, Kara. It will come. You know this. But do not fear it."
"I do fear it. I fear I will not have the strength to face her."
"You will."
"How do you know?"
"Trust the Force."
Letting out a huff of frustration, Kara sat down in a chair beside her mentor and tried - unsuccessfully - to slow her breathing.
"Calm yourself, Kara," her master repeated. "Your emotions will control you if you let them."
"Yes, Master," Kara replied, giving her a firm nod of understanding as she was finally able to begin controlling her breathing.
After another long, pensive pause, Kara's mentor told her, "I am proud of you, Kara. This is not your fault. You will rise like the dawn as a pillar of hope. If she looks back on her failure with anger and places that on you, so be it. You know the truth, don't you?"
"What truth?" the younger Jedi ask quizzically.
"That you have done your best."
"My best wasn't—"
"Take a moment to reflect. Silence can be a powerful tool to facilitate insight. Think hard on your work together. I think you'll find the truth of which I speak."
As soon as her mentor turned away, leaving her in the great hall alone, the blonde's tears began to fall, releasing all that Kara had been holding so tightly. Relieved of her guilt, she grappled with her sorrow.