Author Note: Hello, this is the author here! I hope you guys enjoy this chapter and stuff. I got a tad bit bored of writing Avatar Exile so I am going to start updating here again. Alright, what do you guys think the main ship within this fic should be? I am not really sure and I've been grappling with it for a while. Legend of Korra has a lot of female characters that take center stage.
I was thinking of either Korra, Opal, Kuvera, etc. Basically, just drop in a review of what you guys think it should be and I'll think about it. Please remember to follow, favorite, and review. It greatly helps with my motivation in both writing and updating. Have a wonderful and awesome day!
Chapter 4
How do we approach the study of The Sword of The Jedi's Mother? A woman of surpassing warmth
and surprising knowledge of the Jedi ways was the Jedi Historian Ty Lee Wilum. Yet, many facts open the way
to this Jedi: her abiding love for her husband; the dreams they held
for their son; the devotion to uphold the Jedi ways, and to improve on them. You see her there - a woman
snared by Destiny, a bright powerful light dimmed behind the glory of her
son. Still, one must ask: What is the son but an extension of the mother?
-from "Isaac Wilum, Family Commentaries" by Benjamin Wilum III
The hissing of electricity, the pounding of metal, and the hum of machinery filled the factory. Deep within the slums of Republic City, factories were borne.
Decades ago, factories and works of steam would be of fantasy and fiction tales. Yet, they were of reality now. Republic City, a place in which a man could become anything, was the center of such advancements.
The factory was built deep within the slums of Republic City. A sprawling cesspit that was hidden away from the noble houses and politicians that were too busy in maintaining their wealth.
It was an automobile factory. The stench of smelted steel and of paint had filled the senses of the workers as they continued on with there day.
Yet, there was something going on, a desperate hum within the minds and hearts of everyone here. An aura of darkness had ensnared Republic City. While many of the citizens could not feel the deadly darkness that had contorted and enmeshed itself within this place…the force flown strongly here.
A clawing, nearly hungry sensation could be heard within the population. The force here had been spiraling along the rapid and fiery emotions of the people.
There was a fire here…a desperate clawing within the air, and usually the Jedi would seek this place, to put an ease onto the force and to deal with the great disturbance. But funny enough, it had been three to four years ever since they had once again disappeared.
The snapping of wires echoed throughout the establishment. The workers raising their heads to see what was going on as the sparks of yellow electricity speared throughout the room. Then, the cracking of wires was gone…now following with a heavy whooshing of pipes falling.
The scream of an unlucky bystander funneling through the room as the Workers adverted there eyes away, not wishing to see both a friend and a coworker go splat along the ground. Instead, they heard, nothing.
The Worker opened his eyes. Only to see that the bars were…floating. His eyes widening as he lurched to the side as they hovered for a bit, the other workers watching the mass of objects hover as after he moved away, they crumpled to the floor in a massive cloud.
The Workers stared at it. Pushing there goggles away and removing their bandanas from there mouths. "What was that?" A voice rose.
"That had to be a metal bendor right?" Another voice rose.
Only to see faint shaking rise from select members from the crowd. "Metelbendors don't make metal float!"
The bickering only rose as the worker rose from his feet. His breath heavy as he wiped off strands of sweat from his features. His heart hammering along his chest as the foreman approached. Signaling and screaming at the workers to get back to work.
Yet, the lone worker loitered for a minute longer, his eyes scanning the crowd as he looked upon each and every single one of the workers. Only to mutter out a couple of words as he locked around his surroundings.
"Thank you."
…and with those words he went back to work. Reeling from the near-death encounter as a faint worker was away in the corner. His hands meticulously working on the car, his fingers elegantly tracing along the tools at hand. But the smallest smirk had decorated along his dirty face.
Isaac Wilum, once a Jedi Padawan. Son of Ty Lee Wilum, a battle master and first historian of the New Jedi Order. Son of Benjamin Wilum, the grandmaster of The New Jedi Order. Heir to a great name, son of powerful Jedi and believed to be one of the strongest force sensitives in recorded history…
He kicked off his oil filled shoes from working in the factory, slightly bumping his head along the looming ceiling of there shitty apartment. Even hearing the mice scuttle within the walls. He tossed his jacket into the corner as he began to flick on and off the power switch.
His grey eyes going towards the bulb as after each flick, it didn't even sputter with power. "Fucking, Bolin," He murmured underneath his breath.
He began to walk into the living room. Taking a seat along the armchair as he dodged and weaved through the dirty and dusty furniture. "This is why I tell Mako to just pay the bills. You can't expect Bolin to remember."
He sighed, feeling his limbs untighten as for the first time today he was able to relax. Even with this rat infested, broken and hole filled apartment, this was the only thing that made it worth it.
Within there apartment had this massive window. The size of a large dresser, but this golden plated window which was a contrast to the dark wood of there nasty apartment. And outside of it, you could see…everything.
Republic City, a cesspool of insanity and corruption sure did look beautiful at night. The way the lights flashed like a brilliant chorus. Seeing the people walk back home after a long day's work and seeing the blimps within the sky. There was no other place in which they could get this view.
Isaac sighed, digging into his pocket and taking out his lighter and carton of smokes. Putting the smoke between his lips and lighting the match. He was filled with the killing smoke, taking it in and expelling it out from his nose and parted lips.
It was a Friday night, and…
His eyes widened. "Friday night?" He murmured to himself.
Quickly switching on the radio to catch the pro bending competition. Hearing the announcer scream into his mic as he heard Mako, and Bolin's names rise. The humming of the crowd slowly drowning the announcers voice as Isaac put his legs on the table.
His eyes slightly wavering as he felt the exhaustion of the day slowly take him. Yawning, and slowly feeling the ebb of sleep. He slowly began to…
He felt it, his eyes snapping open, his body about to rise from the chair as he…but then he already knew. His heart slowing down as he relaxed back into his chair. His eyes still stuck to the wild lights of the city.
"Hey mom," he said. Seeing the light blue afterimage of his mother appear by his side. The Force Ghost staring at him. "It's been a while since we've last talked."
The force ghost of Ty Lee was older. Being between the ages of twenty-five and thirty. She was a person of remarkable beauty and grace within her movements.
Her hair was not tied like the braid she had within her youth. Now, it freely went down to her back. She bore a pair of heavy jedi robes. A blend of deep warm colors reminiscent to her fire nation culture. Her lightsaber, not the one Ben gifted to her, but her own that she built when she was fully training under Ben was held at her waist.
Yet, Ty Lee stared at her son. Her arms on her hips as annoyance riddled along her features. "Really, Isaac," She chided. Sighing as she stared at her son. "Those things are going to kill you."
Isaac glossed down to the cigarette. Flicking it away and stomping it underneath his boot. "Sorry about that one mom."
"You always say sorry, Isaac." She murmured to herself as she focused back onto her son.
"What's going on?" He asked.
But he saw the faint smirk decorate his mother's lips. "I saw what you did today."
"What are you talking about, and that's kind of creepy, mom." He spoke. "You're like what, a ghost?" He questioned. "I don't even know what that means really. What do you see and what do you…"
"You saved that man today, Isaac. I am proud of you."
Isaac sighed. "That man was a fool. Should've known that you can't be just walking around a worksite like that…one of these days, you'll get killed."
His mother soared up. Inching closer to him as she looked upon his face.
"I don't like this, Oliver,"
Her face soared once again. "This laziness, this idleness within your movements," She began to move closer towards the window. Her eyes stopping along the massive statues of both Aang and her husband. "While the corrupt politicians and the Sith mingle within the darkness. You keep yourself content within your factory."
Isaac didn't say anything.
Ty Lee only sighed. "Why are you doing this…" She kneeled in front of him. Getting on ground level to meet her son's eye. "Isaac, please just talk to me."
Isaac had changed. That once sweet and lively boy, he had become something else. The loss of the temple, of his family, and of the order had felt a massive mark within him. But that mark had been there for years.
Three or possibly four now. He was a massive man, a being of athletic muscle forged from exercise and of working within the crude confines of the factory.
He had changed. He was taller, nearly as tall as his father, and held much of the familiar muscle mass. His skin was lighter, but he bore the dark grey eyes of his mother and the soft manner of her speak.
Ty Lee had smiled at that thought. She remembered during the pregnancy of both Meetra and Isaac; how scared Benjamin was of his kids becoming as quiet as he once was. Maybe, that was why she felt such great fear when Isaac was so silent.
"Your just like Ben." Ty Lee mused.
Isaac looked at her. "Ain't I my father's son?" Isaac asked.
She snickered. Bringing herself back up as she glanced back at him. "I would say that you used to be more like me, but you've changed," She responded. "You've inherited his manner, and you've got the same look within your eyes."
"What look?" He spoke with a sly smirk.
But Ty Lee regarded him with nothing, but only a blank stare. "A look, a wild look of contained anger and desperation," She took a deep breath. Wrapping her arms around herself as she gazed at her son. "Isaac, I know that you haven't moved on from what happened all those years ago."
Isaac's eyes narrowed, casting off his eyes back to his side, back to those wonderful lights. But her voice still rung within his head.
"Dad told me once that I could be anything I wanted, and I choose this."
Ty Lee's eyes narrowed. "A life of this…" She casted off her arm to the side. "A life in some shitty apartment, a life working in some disgusting old factory for the rest of your days?"
She shook her head. "You were one of the strongest force sensitives ever recorded within the time of the Jedi Order. Both old and new, but you wish to squander your gift…to just waste away?"
Isaac shook his head. "I am no Jedi, mom," He spoke. The truth and conviction within his words startled Ty Lee. "I wasted away during my training, and when it was my time to actually do something…"
He gritted his teeth, his hands going to his head. The smoke, the darkness, the Dark Side. All those things to and eventual fall.
"If I just trained hard enough, then I could've…I could've…"
Ty Lee went back to her son's side. "Isaac, you couldn't have done anything. Even if you were training your hardest there was no way to prepare you for what was going to come…even Ben, your father had no idea what was going to come."
"That doesn't change it mom, don't you get it?" He answered back. "I wasted away, and when dad needed me the most…I wasn't strong enough to fight by his side."
Ty Lee only shook her head more vigorously. "You can't blame yourself for his death, Isaac Wilum. Your father, he loved you and Meetra…"
Isaac was about to rise, but he felt his mother by his side. "Your father would've died for you, he would've happily and eagerly given his life for you and your sister…and he would've held no regrets."
Isaac stopped moving. Rising from his seat as Ty Lee glanced at him. "I know how horrible it is to steep into the dark side, I know."
Isaac looked at her. Feeling the ebb of anger barrel through him.
"It feels so cold, and so alone," She chattered. "But you must understand that you came back from that. You were better, you were stronger than that."
He sneered, snapping his head away from his mother as he turned away from her. "Don't act like you understand,"
The fury behind his voice caused Ty Lee to take a step away, but she shook her head. She was his mother, and she knew, that her son needed her.
"Do you know what it cost me to use that power. Do you not realize what it cost to save Haru, Meetra, and the rest…," He rose his hand. "It took me stepping deep within the dark side. It took me coming to terms as a failure, as a reject, as a bad son. It was all those negative emotions that were able to stop Ethan from killing us."
His body shuddered, still feeling the horrible pain of his fingers being cleaved off from him. The horribly tattooed face paint of Ethan, of the once great Jedi Master, still an echo of his psyche as he tried to regain a sense of calm.
"…and a part of me liked it, mom. Part of me hungered for the teachings that Ethan and the Dark Lord Amon could give me." He turned towards her. Ty Lee able to see the wildness and held back fury of her son's eyes. "I know the truth, it's not a good place for a Wilum, is it?"
Ty Lee felt her breath leave her. But she quickly regained her composure. Isaac may not have been the smartest man in the room, but he wasn't a fool. Ty Lee knew this, and maybe that was the reason why she knew that Isaac of all people would figure them out.
The tales, legends, and war stories told of the Century Long War had filled the people's minds. Tales of honor, bravery, and willpower had risen from the fires of war to pave stories for the next generation. But people were not naïve.
The century long war had led to broken bodies, destroyed countries, and even the death of the Air Nomads. Isaac and Meetra were especially not fools, and they knew deep down the type of man their father was during his younger years.
Benjamin Wilum, grandmaster of The New Jedi Order. But was the butcher of hundreds of Dark Jedi and Fire Nation soldiers during his youth, and during his time with the avatar. There was hardly any tales of honor, but merely a tale of a bunch of children forced to take on the grim reality of the world around them.
But Ty Lee shook her head. No journey was ever perfect. Ben had fallen, she had been corrupted, and Jet had died. But that was not the end of there stories. Ben had become far better and found redemption. She had made peace with what happened to her…and Jet's bravery and sacrifice was told as legends and stories.
"I know about the Dark Side, Isaac. Not as much as your father, but more than you." She lectured. Not paying attention to the harsh anger and annoyance that had generated along her son. "There are Jedi techniques, and skills to help you protect yourself against the Dark Side. If you learn to forgive yourself, to accept who you are, if you choose to follow within your legacy…"
"Legacy!" He screamed, with such fury that it rocked the apartment.
Her eyes widening, Isaac's voice rising. Snapping his finger towards Ty Lee as he zoned in on her.
"Be a Wilum! That's turned out really well for our family! Killed dad, killed your husband…and we don't know if Meetra is even still alive!" He whirled the table away. Stomping over towards his mother as he locked along her gaze. "Be a Jedi," He whirled his hand outside of the window, pointing and stopping at the statue of his father. "I've read the histories of Grandmaster Zane. Time and again, this world…which we served, in which hundreds of Jedi had died for…they turned against us! And we keep helping them, we keep fighting for them and their wars. Real clever of us, isn't it!"
He whirled away from her. His eyes narrowing as he sneered. "Do you truly believe in that?"
Isaac nodded his head. "Do you truly believe that the politicians, the police force, and the monarchs could have succeeded without the authority of the people?"
He shook his head. "No, mom. They hated us…ever since my father saved them, ever since a force sensitive was the one that won the war for them. A war started by bendors, put down by a man with the powers of the force. Hated us for our power, and our wisdom," He sneered, spitting the words out bitterly. "…that hatred still exist, and even if we save them once again, even if we fight for them. They're only waiting for the Jedi to save them, for us to reemerge, and then their hatred will blaze up again."
Ty Lee shook her head. "I know, Isaac. Your young, and you've survived something horrible," She whirled towards her son. Grabbing him by the shoulder as she looked up at him. "But you are young," She repeated. "You are naïve, and you do not know many things. I lived through those histories, it was me, your father, and the team that won the war…force sensitives and bendors, they came together to fight back against that threat. Never forget that."
Isaac moved away from her grip. Standing firmly in front of the window as his eyes locked on those lights once again. His breath had grown heavy and was fogging the window, but he would rather direct his attention to the window, than the prattling of his mother.
"Every generation, every Jedi, and every man has their own challenges to face, its own battles to fight and win. Why should yours be any different? Running away from your responsibilities, your power…your legacy won't solve anything."
Ty Lee's voice hummed within his ears, but he only directs his attention outside. His muscles clenched, his eyes narrowed, and his back straight and away from her. "You really are like your father." She muttered once again.
But Isaac didn't care to respond. Rather, he didn't want to hear this anymore.
Ty Lee stared at her son, one last time. Slowly fading away back into the force as he could hear her final words register. "There is a person coming," Isaac turned back. "A woman, from your past. You have a destiny, Isaac. Whether you want it or not, it will find you. Just as mine found me."
She slowly closed her eyes, the words impacting not only him, but her as well. Feeling fourteen again and meeting the love of her life. In the ruins of that bandit camp, how they zoned in on the other as the ignited blue blade of his second lightsaber illuminated their surroundings.
Then, she smiled, thinking back to the start of that grand journey. The day in which she had met the love of her life, and the one that would teach her to master the force. "Ah, maybe, you are more like your father," She snickered. "Maybe, it will be the love of a woman that will spur your heart to change."
And with those final words she was gone. Isaac staring at the place that his mother was once, but then, slowly feeling the ebb of sadness and loneliness take over. His heart instantly smoothing over as regret started to travel along him.
"I'm sorry, mom." He muttered.
Taking a seat once again along the table. But those feelings of happiness and contentedness, had been swiftly sapped away. Because Ty Lee was right, sometimes it was within the hearts and aspirations of others, that moved the annuals of destiny forward.
