RPlog:Nodes on the Web

Main Theatre - Casohav Temple

Several torches light the tan clay walls revealing the ancient script on them. The ceiling is domed with more script and images of a bloody battle engraved in it. Large and predominatly empty, save a large dias in the front of the room flanked by large flaming torches, it seems the worshipers of Casohav either stand or kneel during service. Behind the dias on the wall is a large engraving into the wall. Looking newer than the ones on the cieling it depicts Casohav's battle against Solus.

Another night has descended, allowing Jessalyn to slink back into the cover of darkness as she makes her way out of the city, away from the aura of Simon Sezirok. His absence and his silence ever since Luke's arrival onplanet has not gone unnoticed by the young woman, and she's felt conflicted -- uncertain as to the role she should fill for the fallen Selas. The Jedi Master had told her she was not responsible for anyone but herself, and yet she knows it was her influence that helped lead Simon into a deeper descent. Should she not go to him, as Luke had gone to his own father, in an effort to redeem him? To awaken him to the Light? Was it possible at all?

These thoughts spill through her mind as she finds herself travelling the Street of the Dead, and eventually comes upon the old temple where Luke's presence shines like a beacon of light. She was certain sometimes that it was only through a special effort on Luke's part that other Jedi were not overwhelmed by the sight of him through the Force. As she steps inside and glances around, she wraps her arms around herself, shivering, and listening to her voice echo hollowly off the walls as she calls out, "Luke?"

All belief was a struggle. Belief in onesself, belief in a higher good, belief in the certainty that the suns would rise the following day and life could continue to run its course. He stands in the center of the room, neck craned back so that he might take in the immobile spectacle of Death adorning the ceiling, fashioned by hands and voices that had long since fallen silent. The diffuse firelight offered by the torches along the wall sends shadows swirling about the murals, lending the depictions of destruction and strife an even more sinister air. As Jessalyn calls out his name, he pauses a moment to part with the phantasmagoric scenes, offering a nod to them as he would any friend or adversary. "Hello Jessalyn," is his soft verbal reception of the silver-haired young woman as she stands looking more than a little chilly in the cavernous space of the temple. "Do you feel it?" Feel what? He keeps the question ambiguous for the time being.

The scuff of her boots follows the echo of his voice as Jessalyn shuffles toward the center of the room, her own head tipping back to look at what he was just gazing upon. The torchlight flickers stark and yellow against the ancient, domed ceiling, allowing her to make out the battle scene, the outdated script engraved into the stone. Hesitantly, she opens herself to the Force, inhaling a breath of musty air, and glancing at Luke. "Feel what, Master Luke?" is the inevitable question. She doesn't mind being put in the role of student again -- nor professing her initial ignorance if she's uncertain of his intent. "Those who left these images here?" she ventures curiously.

"It," Luke repeats simply, "It. Life. Everywhere. Even in the stones of the temple, there is life, the promises of those who came before us." Jessalyn had been so afraid, so sure that the Force had deserted her. He turns his attention now more fully to the hum of his surroundings, opening himself to past, present and future as they merged in this place, gently inviting her to do the same, to focus on something that was both outside of her, and part of her. Something very different from Simon or Orson, where her thoughts must no doubt lie. He certainly has not dared to pry, but the imprints of Jessalyn's heartbreak and uncertainty remain fresh in his mind. Past, present, future. Twisting together to form the powerful stream they knew as time. Perhaps the past should have been made reversible. A slip-slide, a wave of the hand, an idle wish and s single hope... and it could be reversed. The idea once had the power to send a thrill of fear and awe through his being. But changing the past... to do so would be an act of belittling the importance of one's life, the sum of one's experiences, stripping a being of its identity... for one was indelibly affected by one's past.

It had already been proven to Jessalyn that the Force was still with her that morning, but now -- now as Luke invites her onto that vast matrix of time, she's swept up into something much larger than herself. The Force stretches as far as she can see, like a liquid pool touched by ripples across its surface, with the skeins of time branching off forever into the distant and blurred future.

But behind them, the past is not uncertain; infinite, yes, but those choices have all been made, and they cannot be changed; their images are fixed and as alive as the Present, if Jessalyn were bold enough to venture down their paths and examine them. She can see the vibrant golden threads of her own life behind her, the people and events that had shaped her -- and for the first time she can truly empathize with Orson's agony at seeing so clearly the past.

She shies away from her own past at first, afraid of being reminded of what has sent her to this point, but then she steadies herself, drawing strength from some inner reserve -- and perhaps a little from the Jedi Master. With a sudden enlightening burst, she sees the interconnecting paths that branch out from her, and the resulting ripples that lap forever outward from each choice she makes. So infinite, she thinks. There was no part of the vast matrix that would not eventually feel the effect of her ripple... and that of Luke's, and Orson's, and... and her mother. And every other being that drew upon the Life-Force on every world.

It's awesome, and humbling and strengthening at the same time. Jessalyn's inner self bends her head as she draws nearer to Luke's presence along the silvery skeins, seeing how closely twined their lives had been... and would continue to be, she realizes, glimpsing down the path that was her future. No matter what, now, they were forever linked, inextricably part of each other's lives in an inseparable way. _I feel it,_ she answers inadequately, her wonder apparent in the glint of her thoughts.

The past of all life now lies before them, binding them together in holy and beautiful threads of compassion and understanding. Compassion. Empathy. Magnificent gifts increased a thousandfold... no, made infinitely more powerful... through the Force. As she acknowledges her own essence, claiming fully her birthright and the destiny which she worked every day to shape and understand, he invites her to see something more. Something that he himself has keep hidden more than he should, something which has caused him regret and fear and even shame. The sense of loss. The unacknowledged sense of loss that wound its way through his soul, the sense of loss he found himself wanting to deny as it hung in weightless limbo within him each day. Each miles of every journey, he felt it, felt it and yet did not feel it the way he truly should. He was human. He had his flaws. It was the way of the universe. The only thing perfect was the Force, with its capacity to unify and heal. Did flaws signal unworthiness? Were beings any less important because they wrestled with the implications of their existence on a daily basis? No. It only made them more unique and beautiful. Luke invites her now to see... to truly see inside himself, into his past, as he lets down the last possible semblance of a barrier that might exist between the two Jedi, allowing her an unparalleled glimpse into his soul. Here I am, Jessalyn Valios, here is my father, here are the events that have shaped me into what I am. Take your history into the arms of your heart and welcome it, cherish it, look upon it with gratitude, and hope that I may do the same. As you look within yourself, so shall I. Accept the gift of my past as we move into the future, being mindful of the present along the way. Compassion has always been the root of Jessalyn's nature, and compassion was ultimately the greatest and most compelling gift of a Jedi. The ability to see both the interconnectedness of all life and the power of one's own actions to affect the future was the guiding light of Jessalyn's own philosophy. It was what she had tried to pass onto her apprentice. But never before has it been so apparent, so obvious and plain that now many of her doubts simply dissolve before its magnitude.

It's enough to stagger her, but she remains calm, clinging to Luke's strength, and gaping in wonder at what he reveals to her of his own accord. It was no accident, she realizes at once. As she dares gaze into the very soul of the Jedi Master -- she finds a man, like any other, burdened by loss and destiny and the weight of his responsibility. Some of the pain she gentles, wanting to understand what it is that that has wounded his heart, and wanting to take some of the sting out of his hurtful past. She's only glimpsed one other person so deeply as this, and the intimacy and overwhelming nature of the revelation rock her to her fondations. Mindful of his tremendous strength, and draws upon it just a little as she unfolds herself... letting Luke see just what has shaped her, as well... a flood of memories and events, people long dead, and people still familiar; themes of solitude and disappointment running all through her life like lethal ribbons, and yet those things that strengthen her are always there, too: innate compassion, limitless tenderness, stubborn and loving devotion.

She even shows him the entirety of her mistakes with Orson, no matter how painful they are to relive; things that she's held back from sharing due to her shame. The boundless joy, the infinite disappointment and hurt, the sense of betrayal. And yes, even her love for Luke himself. _I'll remember,_ she says gratefully, surprised to find the shadows chased back from her consciousness, and a new sense of purpose burgeoning inside her, bigger than the petty flaws and flounderings that have torn her life apart. The Force was so much bigger than all of that. _I understand now. I never did before. This isn't... isn't about denying emotion.... it's about finding this balance...._

_Yes... you see it now, the limitless strength and love we draw upon as Jedi, the acceptance of a gift made possible by our training. The Force is the All within us and around us. The old ways say that there is no emotion, there is peace... but I have seen there can be no peace without emotion. Emotion is a Force-gift and to deny it is to deny the essence of our existence. Feel, Jessalyn, feel without fear the strength and beauty that is the Force, accept it as you have accepted what I have shown you, and realize that while you are but one of many wellsprings of life, you are worthy and beautiful because the Force is within you and always will be, whether you acknowledge it or not. This is the lesson he imparts to her now, as he stands at the crossroads of time and drinks in the spectacular pulse of all sentient life, treasuring the power and the mystery of its existence. The Force was beauty itself, the spark of creation, the fire within. What an awesome responsibility it was to be given this knowledge and to use it in bringing harmony and balance to the universe.

Never before has Jessalyn been witness to such a display of power, not even from Luke himself. Too much of it was so clear, compared to her own meager, blurred glimpses into the future. And with that clarity came even greater complications and dangers. With new inner eyes she gazes on him, aching for his pain and his burden, the weight carried so heavily on such human shoulders.

_That's your gift, that I can still feel and be a Jedi? Do you live that way, Luke?_ She wanted to believe it, and after glimpsing his life, his past, and the ache in his heart, she realizes the truth all at once. Instead of jealousy, a well of compassion surges through her, and without even thinking about it, Jessa finds herself wrapping her tender emotions around him, comforting and offering of herself in the way he's done for her ever since his return. She had never dared dream he might be there for her now, when she had believed herself more alone than she'd ever been. Orson had been the one filling that role for a long while now, and it was hard to suffer without his strength and devotion to lean upon. Gratefully, she cradles Luke's heart, giving into emotion as if it were something she'd been deprived of all her life.

_I live to honor the light within, to honor each day the Force flows around and through me. Honor it through feeling, Jessalyn. When we feel and call upon the Force to guide us, that's when we are truly Jedi, because it's only through the Force that our gifts acquire meaning._ True to his word, the warmth of soul-bliss flooding his veins, Luke allows Jessalyn to see and feel his heart, knowing that it was only through utter surrender to his former pupil that she would be able to understand and be able to draw strength from the Force once more. It is the most vulnerable he has ever been. Not even Leia, to whom his Force-ties are strong, has seen so deeply into his essence. Surrender and acquiescence. Subservience. These were the true acts of power. Not war and destruction... those were not power... they did nothing but erase the Force-potential within every being to achieve a sense of equilibrium. Without equilibrium there could be no appreciation of the Force. And without that, there could be no power.

It's too much for her. Seeing him on such a level, experiencing both his awesome power and his flawed nature at once, all his vulnerabilities and dichotomies, the paradoxes of the man that is Luke Skywalker -- it's too close to what she once dreamed of in the past. And yet, she feels oddly detached, able to look on him now without the biased lens of the adoring student pining for her master. The feelings for him mature in light of this new understanding and the knowledge of her importance in his life and within the Force. Precious confidence surges into her, even as she begins to withdraw, overwhelmed by the experience, and aching to feel her physical self once more.

When Jessalyn opens her eyes, her hands are gripping Luke's upper arms as if one or both of them might fall over if she lets go, and icy cold tears have streaked down her face. Working moisture into a dry throat, she gives him a gentle shake. "Luke," she urges tearfully. "I never meant -- you didn't have to -- gods, I didn't think you could do that..." Words are so inadequate for both the confusion and clarity that have come to her. But the Darkness has slipped back behind its door now, and when she takes a breath, she feels a sense of serenity that she thought herself incapable of. "Forgive me," she bursts out. "Oh, Luke. Forgive me. I let the Dark Side rule me. I was weak."

Bringing a smile to somewhat bloodless lips, Luke places his hands on Jessalyn's shoulders and gives them a gentle squeeze. Though he is tired, his eyes shine with the knowledge that she has seen something critical this evening, critical to her well-being as a Jedi. "We're all weak. It's the Force that makes us strong. You don't need to ask my forgiveness... you offended no one but yourself when you turned your back to the healing power of the Force. Now you've emerged into the light and have grown. You have grown so much since I last saw you. Don't be afraid any longer. You've made your mistakes, I have made mine. Now it's time to move on and become active shapers of our destinies. Here, where you have seen past, present and future come together, here more than anywhere you have been able to realize that time is not stagnant. As time moves on, so do we move with it."

Ashamed by her fears, by her very real desire to die rather than face the Jedi again, Jessalyn swallows hard as she gazes back at Luke. But she has seen something profound, seen truths and meanings behind meanings that have evaded her understanding before now. Rather than cower before her fear, she gently sets it aside, acknowledging it for what it is, having enough compassion for herself to deal with it in its own time.

Still, despite the calm that's in her eyes now, she can't help but feel a twinge of regret. After that amazing instance where he shared himself so fully, she half-expected some barriers to be brought down between them now, and to hear something different than the authoritative tone of the Jedi Master in Luke's voice. The disappointment flares and fades in an instant as she accepts her role, his student and friend, whichever he needed her to be. "I won't disappoint you again," she says hopefully, looking away. But was she strong enough to forgive Orson? Could she ever teach him again? Would he even have her if she wanted to?