Quoted By:
As the words of Master Hou’Garth end, the muscular Twi’lek pauses for a second. Eyes scanning over the mass of Initiates sitting stock still on the floor, with a slight frown. Then he turns back to the Masters and Knights standing behind him. The cue read by the class, all rise from the floor and break into their separate groups, starting conversations. Most of the elder Jedi follow suit, most conversing with each other, but a few begin to socialise with their possible future apprentices.
Standing up, you try to scan through the crowd to spot one of your friends. The congregation is densely packed, and a struggle to weave through, let alone spot someone you are friends with. Then a strong hand grabs you on your shoulder, causing you to turn around. In an earlier age, you would snarl and spit at the offending party that dared to touch you. But now you are a different person; no longer are you a coil compressed to breaking point, ready to rage and hate at that which would spoil your solitude.
Turning around, you see a boy or a young man of fourteen, the division between the two is very much up to the eye of the beholder, giving you a crooked grin. He is a young man with comparatively long, dark-brown windswept hair. Where you are lean and tough, he is large and powerful. He is a human through and through. Luke, named after the most famous Jedi to have ever existed, Luke Skywalker. The man who brought a galactic empire to its knees, and that was after the Jedi were systematically exterminated. It is a story you’ve read many times in the temple library. Part of the allure is to reread the story from different writers, each with their own slight variations of the tale.
“Where were you?” Luke asks as he leads you out of the group.
“Talking to Turok. I met him on my jog around the garden. He was telling me about the time he went through his ceremony.”
“Brown nosing already Chris? I really don’t think, no matter how much you listen to the old man’s stories, he will train you.” He smirks. “Did he tell you of anything that might be helpful? Would be nice to have a little advantage if there is anything unusual this year.”
“Nah,” You reply. “Standard stuff. Master Hou’Garth already covered everything in his speech.”
“Unless Turok kept a secret from you. Anyway, what colour kyber will you go for? I’m feeling a bright yellow. In a Saberstaff. And the handle will be coated in the bark of a Dbergo tree.” With each word he manages out, his words increase in speed, speaking to the excitement that is boiling up in him.
“Ha, sounds good. I’m thinking of- Ahhhh” A jolt in your side steals your sentence, and you spin around to face the culprit.
