"How much homework have you left to do?" Eeth asked Lok who was tapping away on his data pad and had been doing so for two hours already. Eeth had booked an aerials gym and wondered whether he would have to ask Lok to interrupt his work and finish it after their workout, for a change. The boy had been his padawan for six days now, and so far, he had never needed more than an hour for his assignments. This was rather surprising, in fact; at this stage of their padawanhood, both Lakhri and Raven had had a lot more work to do, even at the beginning of a cycle of studies. On Friday, Eeth had explicitly asked Lok whether he was sure that this was all the homework he had. Lok had just shrugged and said that it might get more when the exams approached, which had left Eeth determined to check Lok's work more closely in the future.

Now it was Monday and Lok did not seem to be close to finishing any time soon. Eeth threw a look over the boy's shoulder and saw that he was still working on astrophysics, as he had done for the past ninety minutes.
"You've got a lot of astrophysics homework," he remarked.
"Well, yeah," Lok replied. His response was a little too non-chalant. Eeth frowned in suspicion.
"Any particular reason for that?" he inquired.
Lok hesitated for a fraction of a second before replying: "Dunno. Maybe he wasn't happy with our work in class? Some of us were rather restless today, after having been on a field trip this weekend."
This did not feel like an outright lie, but nor did it convince Eeth that his padawan was being honest with him. Before he could ask further questions, however, the door chime rang.
Eeth went to open the door and was faced with a young female knight, human, brown-skinned, almond-eyed and slender, with short dark hair and a slightly wary expression on her face. He immediately recognised her; she had been knighted when he had still been on the High Council.
"Knight Armor," he said, bowing to her. "Do come in."
As he stepped aside to make way for her, Lok jumped up in surprise.
"Gwened!" he yelled, rushing towards her and throwing his arms around her. The knight hugged him firmly, and they stayed like that for a minute or so. Eeth withdrew to the kitchen discreetly to make some tea. Gwened had been Jerad's second padawan, a very solemn child; Eeth remembered having thought, at the time, that Jerad's cheerful nature might do her good. She was a formidable knight now with a distinct talent for diplomacy, but also very good skills at stealth and evasion and with a lightsaber, as was to be expected from a former padawan of Jerad's.

When Eeth came back with a tray of tea, Lok had cleared his homework away and offered Gwened a seat at the table.
"Thank you," she said, giving him a smile that was a tad uncertain; she obviously remembered him as a member of the High Council. "I'm glad to hear that you took Lok as your padawan. When I received the news, I came back from Honar V as fast as possible, but it still took me a few weeks to get here. I've been worried about Lok all the time. I was about ready to take him in myself."
"That's kind of you," said Lok, "but I'm fine - well, sort of. You know what I mean. Still, I'm glad you're here. Really." His voice sounded a little choked, as if the memory of his master's death had suddenly popped to the surface again.
Gwened squeezed his shoulder briefly and then accepted a cup of tea from Eeth.
"I'm still in a state of disbelief over what happened," she said. "He just caught this virus and died? I mean… Master Jerad, of all people!"
Lok nodded mutely, staring at the tabletop. Gwened reached out, took his hand and gripped it tightly. They sat like that for a moment, comforting each other.

"I asked about Hoikat," Gwened said finally; Eeth knew that Hoikat was Jerad's first padawan. He must be around Lakhri's age, but had never trained a padawan of his own for some reason. "He's on an undercover mission and can't be contacted, apparently," Gwened continued. "He might be back a week or a year from now, nobody knows."
"I know, they told me," Lok replied morosely. "So… do you think we should go through Master Jerad's things or wait for Hoikat?"
"I dunno," said Gwened. "It might be more decent towards him to wait. On the other hand, I might not be around when he comes back. Waiting for all three of us to be here at once might mean postponing it indefinitely. How do you feel about it? Would you rather wait?"
Lok shook his head.
"No, I'd rather get it over with, to be honest," he said.
Eeth felt a flash of pride in the boy at hearing this; he knew how hard this was going to be on him, and facing it required courage.
"I think we can forego our workout this afternoon so the two of you have time to sort through Master Jerad's things," he said quietly. "Lok, would you like me to come or would you rather do this on your own? I'm happy with both options."
"Thank you, master," Lok said earnestly. He thought about this for a moment, then decided: "I… I'd rather have you there if that is alright with you, Gwened?"
"Sure," Gwened said, seeming a little surprised, but pleasantly so, at the trust that Lok had developed in Eeth in such a short time. Eeth, for his part, was unaccountably touched.

Master Myer in storage looked nearly as old as Yoda. He knew everyone in the Temple and knew immediately what they had come for.
"Master Jerad Delapar's padawans, hmm?" he said sympathetically. "I'll get his things for you."
He showed them towards one of several waiting rooms, spacious and equipped with a table and comfortable chairs, and ambled off, supporting himself on a walking stick. Several minutes later, he returned with a large hovercart that carried a huge crate.
It quickly turned out that the crate's size was mainly due to the framed pictures it contained. Lok and Gwened seemed to be familiar with them; they carefully leaned them against the wall and proceeded to go through the couple of boxes containing smaller things, from napkins to Jerad's pocket knife which was made of Alderaanian steel and had apparently been a gift made to him as a young knight.

Meanwhile, Eeth, who was sitting in the back and trying to be as unobtrusive as possible, looked at the topmost painting more closely. It was abstract, mainly black with vivid flashes of red, and fairly intense. Eeth had never had a particularly deep interest in art, but he was not entirely clueless either. After all, he considered it part of his job to have at least a basic knowledge of things like art, music and literature, and when there was an opportunity to see an important exhibition and he had the time for it, he usually went. Jerad's work was unlike any he had ever seen, though; it was certainly original.

"Oh, look," said Gwened suddenly in a slightly husky voice, "his sketchbook."
She flipped it open on a random page; it showed a sketch of a rough hillscape. Obviously, Jerad had not limited himself to abstract art.
"That was the mission before our last," Lok whispered. "Tovhar II. The view from our base camp."
Gwened skipped a few pages and found that most of the sketchbook was still empty. She flipped back until the last page that was not blank. It showed a perfect sketch of Lok, sitting at a table and looking distinctly bored.
"Oh Force," Lok said. "That… that's me on the mission where… It was a conference, it was unbelievably boring, and I would never, ever have believed that… I didn't even know he had drawn me, I… "
He broke off. Tears were trailing down his cheeks, and he turned away to hide them.
Eeth rose, came to stand behind his padawan and wordlessly put one hand on his head and the other on his shoulders. Lok turned around, flung his arms around him and buried his face in Eeth's robes. Gwened, in the meanwhile, quietly looked through the rest of Jerad's sketchbook, pretending hard not to notice the scene.

When Lok had regained his composure, she held the sketchbook out to him and said: "You should definitely have this."
Lok nodded and cleared his throat.
"I don't need any of the household stuff and things, though," he said. "Can you use them for your knight's quarters?"
"That's a good point," said Gwened. "I will just take what I can use or what I like and talk to Hoikat later. He's pretty well-equipped, though. I doubt that he urgently needs tablecloths."
Jerad had, in fact, not hoarded many things besides his art and a few personal items of decoration and household equipment. They searched for older sketchbooks because Gwened maintained that Jerad had always had one with himself and had filled many of them during her own padawanhood, but they were not there; they were forced to conclude that he had thrown them away when they had been full.

At the bottom of the crate, they found a small black duroplast box that neither Gwened nor Lok could remember ever having seen. Gwened put it on the table and opened it to discover four holocubes and a note on paper lying on top of them. She gave Lok a questioning look; he nodded for her to go ahead.
"When you are reading this," she read aloud, "I have most likely become one with the Force. Three of these holocubes are for my padawans. The fourth one is for Jedi master Eeth Koth."

Gwened broke off and stared at Eeth. So did Lok.
"Go on," said Eeth, his even voice not betraying the emotional turmoil that these entirely unexpected words had caused inside him.
"Alright," said Gwened in obvious consternation. "Uhh… Jedi master Eeth Koth… oh, yes. Furthermore, I have dedicated a painting to each of them. You may find the names on the back of the frames. The other paintings shall be burned. May the Force be with you."
Lok was still staring at Eeth as if he was seeing a ghost.
"There's something you're not telling me," he said in a rather accusatory tone of voice.
"Possibly," Eeth replied quietly. "And if there is, I have very good reason for it. This, however, comes as unexpected to me as it does to you. I have not lied when I told you that Jerad and I haven't had much contact for the past forty years."
He stood up and started to look for names on the picture frames. His was the black and red one on top. Eeth had no idea why although it was true that the painting spoke to him on a certain level that he could not quite explain.
Next, he found Hoikat's, which they put aside, then Gwened's. Her face lit up as she saw it: swirls of yellow and light blue with accents of green; it had always been her favorite, she said, and suddenly became tearful.
Lok's was in the back, a particularly large and colorful painting that, Lok said, Jerad had just terminated when he had taken Lok as his padawan. Lok had liked it so much that Jerad had allowed him to put it in his room.
"Would you like to have it in your new room as well?" asked Eeth gently.
Lok considered the question for a moment, then nodded mutely.
"Alright," said Gwened in a businesslike tone of voice that could fool no one over the fact that she was fighting hard to hold back tears. "We'll take the holocubes and the pictures. Lok gets the sketchbook. I can take the other small stuff and go through it with Hoikat when he's at the Temple next. And we ask Master Myer to have the other pictures burnt, as per Master Jerad's wish. Does that about wrap it up?"
Lok just nodded again, eyes on the floor.
"It does," said Eeth softly. "I'll take care of it."

He quickly and efficiently organised for Hoikat's painting to be delivered to the knight's quarters, then arranged two hovercarts, one with Gwened's and one with Lok's things, and informed Master Myer about Jerad's last will concerning his paintings. They delivered Gwened and her hovercart at her doorstep on their way to their quarters.
"How much longer will you be at the Temple?" asked Eeth.
Gwened shrugged.
"No idea," she said, "but I don't think they'll send me away any time soon. I've been on missions almost constantly for the past two years or so. Considering the… situation, I hope I'll be granted some time at the Temple. Maybe teach some classes."
"From my experience with the Council, it is rather likely that this will happen," said Eeth. "Maybe you would like to take part in Lok's training while you are here? From what I recall, you are specialised in Soresu. Lok could benefit from training with you."
"I'd like that," Lok said quietly.
"Me too," said Gwened, giving him a rare smile.
They arranged to meet for dinner tomorrow in order to discuss details; then Gwened disappeared in her rather spartan quarters while Lok and Eeth made their way towards their own set of rooms.

"Now WHY," asked Lok immediately after Gwened's door had swished shut behind them, "would my master have left you a holocube and a painting?"
"I told you before that I have no idea," replied Eeth evenly, "I have not seen the contents of the holo cube yet, after all. Besides, I think I have a right to keep certain… private… memories to myself."
"Excuse me?" asked Lok indignantly. "I was his padawan, and now I'm yours. And I happen to have noticed that he certainly didn't leave personalised holo cubes to any of his other former his teenage friends. Force, he didn't even leave any to his actual friends at the time of his death! So, why you? There's something you're not telling me."
Eeth glared at him.
"Has it occurred to you," he asked sternly, "that I might not have been lying when I said that I have good reason for that?"
"Why, is it that bad?" asked Lok in a tone that was a lot more snide than Eeth liked to hear. "Did the two of you set fire to the Temple? Did you get drunk in front of him and he's using the holo cube to tell you it's the funniest thing he has seen in all his l– OUCH!"
Eeth had suddenly stopped him short and brought the paddle down onto his bottom. The angle was not ideal, but Eeth had made up for that in sheer force.
Lok rubbed his bottom, took a step back and scowled.
"Will you stop hitting me in the corridor?" he asked in annoyance. "Or do you LIKE having an audience?"
"You," Eeth said in a low, irate voice, putting the paddle back into his belt while fixing Lok with a glare, "are pushing it. You have no right to talk to me in that disrespectful manner, and it is going to stop."
"I'm going to stop when you tell me what I want to know, and only then," Lok insisted. "Why are you being so touchy about this? Were you in love with my master? Were you a couple?"
Eeth was flabbergasted at the question although he had to admit it had probably not been THAT hard to work out; after all, how many other options were there? He was momentarily at a loss what to say.
"So you were," Lok said, totally ignoring Eeth's discomfort. "Did you have sex? Did you split up? Is that why you didn't talk to each other? Or were you forbidden from talking to each other and that's why he left you? Is that what–"
He broke off and yelped as Eeth, who was entirely fed up with the boy's attitude, grabbed the base of his braid and dragged him towards a door that led to a small garden.
"Bare your bottom and touch your toes," Eeth snapped. "And I don't want to hear another word out of you. If you're not in position in ten seconds, you can go to our quarters and fetch me the cane."
That set Lok in motion; he was scowling fiercely, but he complied. Nodding in satisfaction, Eeth went to cut a switch. It was not as long and sturdy as it might have been, but more than long and sturdy enough to leave a strong impression.
He took his time preparing it while Lok stood there, presenting his bottom. Only when Eeth was satisfied that the switch was as smooth as it was going to get, did he step up behind his padawan and bring it down onto his target firmly. It left a thin red line across the fullest part of Lok's bottom, which had the boy flinch.
"Let me make a few things clear," Eeth said sternly, letting a second swat follow.
"There are appropriate and inappropriate ways to talk to your master."
Swat number three elicited a strangled yelp.
"Yours was entirely inappropriate."
Swat number four came down right onto the crease where Lok's bottom met his thighs and had him whine and shift from foot to foot.
"Stay still," said Eeth mercilessly. "You have been talking more than enough. Now you are going to listen."
He raised a fifth welt on the tops of Lok's thighs, upon which his padawan let out a stifled groan.
"Your former master and I did not break any rules, nor did we 'split up' or end up not talking to each other, so you may stop your pointless speculations," Eeth informed him. The sixth swat went diagonally across the others, and this time the stifled groan was more of a screech.
"When I tell you that something is private, I expect you to respect that," Eeth continued, and this time he brought the switch down three times in rapid succession for particular emphasis. At this point, Lok started to cry quietly.
"Whether you agree with me or not," Eeth concluded. He administered two more swats onto the lowest part of Lok's bottom and a last diagonal one that crossed the other, then discarded the switch. By the time he was done, Lok was sobbing openly.
"You may get up," Eeth said, outwardly unfazed, although he was entirely aware that Lok must feel very unfairly treated. Still, the boy needed to learn a lesson, and that lesson was not to let his mouth run away with him.
Lok very slowly rose, wincing in discomfort. Eeth handed him a handkerchief and waited until he had dried his face.
"Now let me be clear about one thing," Eeth said calmly. "This was not for your curiosity, which is understandable. It was for the entirely disrespectful way in which you were articulating it. Which was not only rude towards me, it was also no way to talk about your former master. Jerad's memory is certainly not something I want to be taunted about, let alone enter a shouting match."
Lok bit his lip. This argument seemed to have hit home.
"I understand," he said after a moment. "And I'm sorry, master."
"Apology accepted," said Eeth much more gently. "And like I said, I do understand your curiosity. I might be willing to tell you more after we have both seen or heard what our holo cubes contain. I do expect you to talk to me respectfully, though, and to respect my wish for privacy when I state it clearly. Which is no more than I will grant to you."
Lok nodded sheepishly.
"Yes, master," he said. "I will. And I'm sorry I was rude."
Eeth offered him a hug, and Lok accepted it gratefully.
"What did I get myself into?" Eeth wondered as he stroked Lok's back. But he really knew there was no way he was going to be able to keep the truth from the boy for much longer. Lok's imagination was already running away with him, and this was only going to get worse if Eeth stayed silent. He would simply have to find a way to explain things to his padawan.

A quarter of an hour later, Eeth was sitting on his desk chair, the black-and-red painting leaning against the wall. He was looking at the holo cube, wondering what was expecting him. The date stamp was relatively recent. Had Jerad sensed his impending death? Had he sensed that the Force would lead Eeth to take care of his padawan? Eeth shrugged off these thoughts. There was really only one way to find out.

A holograph of Jerad flickered to life; a grown Jerad, around sixty years of age. He still looked formidable, Eeth thought as the holograph looked at him silently for a long moment.
"Eeth," said Jerad's voice. "There is something I have wanted to tell you for a long time, and have never found the courage to. The longer we didn't talk to each other, the harder it became. I don't know if it was me who avoided you, or the other way round; probably both. Maybe I will yet find the courage to talk to you in person; and if not, you might find this message when I have become one with the Force."
Jerad paused for a moment, apparently collecting himself.
"I just wanted to let you know that it was hard," he finally said. "It was incredibly hard to be the responsible and mature one, that day in the pools and in the time that followed. I knew I had to be although I never wanted to. And while I know that I did the right thing, part of me has always regretted it. I have never quite forgotten you. And I guess that is all I wanted to say."
He smiled at Eeth, a genuine, if a little wary smile that made his eyes crinkle.
"The framed picture I left you has another painting on the backside of the canvas," he said. "It was among the first I painted, about a year after that day in the pools. You might want to look at it. Do with it what you like. May the Force be with you, Eeth."

Eeth sat staring into the air long after the holograph had disappeared. For the first time in many, many years, he felt tears stinging his eyelids. Finally, and with great effort, he rose and found out how to open the picture frame. Very carefully, he lifted the canvas up from its support and laid it upside down onto his bed. The backside showed an abstract painting, but Eeth recognised the meaning immediately because the only two colours Jerad had used were Eeth's and Jerad's exact skin tones, brown and ocean-green, starting out apart and then mingling, but without merging completely. Eeth looked at it for a long time – at something that had been a possible future, in a distant past, but had never come to be. And he wondered whether a part of him, too, regretted it. No, he finally told himself. It would have made the life he had led so far impossible; and his had been a full life. He was raising his third padawan now. Had his life turned out different, or had the rules been different from what they were, a relationship might have had a place in his life. But he had made the right decision; and he was more grateful than ever, after having heard Jerad's confession, that the older Jedi had brought this sacrifice and made it possible for Eeth to make that decision.

In the end, Eeth put the painting back into its frame as it had been, with the black-and-red version visible. He was going to ask Lok later whether he would agree to having it put up in their common room. For now, he needed to talk to the boy about something else, and thus went to knock on his padawan's door.

"Come in," Lok called in a subdued voice. As Eeth entered, he found the boy sitting on his bed, his face wet with tears.
He sat down next to Lok and put his arm around him. Lok leaned into his side, and they stayed like that silently for a long while.
Finally, Eeth started to talk.
"One of your guesses was, in fact, right," he said softly. "Your former master and I were in love with each other when we were senior padawans. We felt very strongly attracted to each other. Both of us were about ready to forget our vows, and I, being the younger and maybe also the more hot-headed and obstinate of us, probably would have done so had it not been for Jerad who sacrificed his own wishes and made us ask our masters for help. I think they took care to keep us apart for quite some time; one of us was always on missions. Over time, we lost touch; and later, I think we subconsciously avoided each other, maybe out of embarrassment or maybe out of fear that temptation might arise again. In any case, nothing actually happened, and the whole thing took place forty years ago."
"And yet, it must have been important enough for my master to leave you a message and a painting," Lok observed.
Eeth paused for a moment.
"Yes," he said slowly. "I had no idea that that was the case, but I am glad that he did."
Lok scooted a little closer to Eeth.
"I'm glad you told me," he said sincerely. "If not, I would have just kept guessing and annoying you with my silly guesses."
"I know," said Eeth with a small smile. "Truth be told, that was the main reason for me to tell you. I had been reluctant to do so because I simply did not know how you would take it."
"I'm not sure how I'm taking it either, at least not yet," Lok admitted, "but it's better to know than to be kept in the dark. Thank you. I know these are very private memories and you would have had every right not to confide them to me. I'm all the more grateful that you did."
"You are welcome," said Eeth gently. "And the next time you want to know something, you ask me politely and might very well receive the information without receiving a sore bottom first."
Lok snorted. "Thanks a lot for that advice," he muttered. "You wouldn't consider offering some healing? This hurts, you know."
"Yes, that is rather the point," replied Eeth, unfazed. "If it still hurts by the time you go to bed, I will take away enough of the pain to enable you to sleep. Not now. You desperately need to learn when to keep your mouth shut."
"Funny you should say that," Lok grumbled. "Because Master Jerad always said the exact same thing."
"All the more reason for you to make an effort to improve," Eeth said drily. "For now, though, finish your homework. As far as I recall, your astrophysics assignment is still waiting."
Lok heaved an almighty sigh.