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“Keep practicing these steps. I expect to see them executed flawlessly by the next time we meet.”
As Master Drallig exited the training dojo, Fal’ah wiped her sweaty forehead with her sleeve. As usual, this had been a hard training session. Master Drallig’s lightsaber combat courses were not for the faint of heart. She grimaced as she thought of the sore muscles she would have tomorrow.
Fal’ah went to get a drink of water, then quickly ran back to the other side of the dojo to collect her things. As she grabbed her lightsaber from the bench, she noticed that one other student was still in the room.
Obi-Wan Kenobi was well-known throughout the Temple as the first Jedi to kill a Sith in a millennia, but in an unfortunate turn of events his master had been killed in the very same fight. A few months had passed since Qui-Gon’s death and Obi-Wan’s knighting, and he had already taken on a padawan. Temple rumor had it that this padawan was the so-called “Chosen One,” and that Obi-Wan had only taken him on as a tribute to Qui-Gon.
Fal’ah didn’t know what to make of the Chosen One prophecy, but she did feel quite sorry for Obi-Wan. Having lost her own master at nineteen years old, she understood much of what Obi-Wan was going through.
Fal’ah started to walk out of the training dojo when something made her hesitate. Obi-Wan sat silently on a bench sipping water from a canteen. Normally Fal’ah would have kept moving to get to lunch on time since she wasn’t very well acquainted with him, but something in his face made her pause. To any outsider, the Jedi Knight would appear to be calm, perfectly in control of his emotions, but the Force hinted at something else. A small amount of muddled emotions was leaking past Obi-Wan’s shields, and Fal’ah could see the pain in his eyes too.
After a moment of indecision, Fal’ah softly crossed over to where he sat. Obi-Wan looked up at her in surprise; evidently he was so absorbed in his thoughts that he didn’t sense her approaching.
“Hey,” Fal’ah ventured, a smile tugging at one corner of her mouth. Obi-Wan nodded politely, though he didn’t say anything in return. Fal’ah grasped for something to say -- something, anything to make him feel better and to lift the slight awkwardness in their conversation.
“I heard about your master… Qui-Gon Jinn, I mean. I just wanted to say I’m sorry, and… well, I understand what you’re going through. I lost my master a few years ago, and I know how hard it is to move on without her. And I’m here, if you ever need to talk about anything.”
A silence hung in the air for what seemed like eternity to Fal’ah. Then Obi-Wan looked up, eyes glistening with unshed tears.
“Thank you,” he whispered.
Fal’ah gave a quiet nod before walking out of the dojo. Even if she wasn’t close to Obi-Wan, something in him had touched the healing wound within her own heart, still aching from the loss of her own master. Fal’ah hoped he’d come talk to her on his own sometime. While she longed to help Obi-Wan, she knew it would help heal her own wounds too.