Chapter Text
“Concentrate, Hongjoong,”
Sweat dripped down his forehead and back; his whole body ached and burned out of exhaustion, yet his training wasn’t near to be over. His movements were getting sloppy, his patience fading; composure had long become a thin thread.
There was one thing he still had to learn; his physical body had limits.
As he earned another kick to his back and fell to the ground, Hongjoong rolled back on his feet and launched at his Master with anger; a broken ego from being tramped to the ground for several hours on end. The first strike was dodged just in time, the second was dodged clever and before he could strike a third time, Hongjoong lost his footing and fell again. The radiating heat of his Master’s blue lightsaber burned the finest hairs on his face.
“Your technique has become soppy and uncomposed,” Yonghwan said and extinguished his saber unimpressed. He offered a hand to his Padawan which the other seemed to consider for a moment too long to not awake suspicion in his Master’s mind. “Your emotions, my Padawan,” Yonghwan stated as he helped Hongjoong back on his feet and patted the dust off the younger’s back, “cloud your mind. Meditate to gain control over them. Anger is not where you draw strength, but peace and balance.”
Hongjoong has his head lowered; almost in shame looking down at his shoes. “Yes, Master,” he replied and collected his saber from across the training ground by reaching to it through the force. It was hard; to reach out to it. In his mind, or his feelings – de didn’t know – he could see it; the electromagnetic field; the force in which all the living existed and all the things they had brought into existence, existed. Yet it was blurry – or was it darker?
Prisoner to his own mind, Hongjoong’s thoughts swirled in fear; it was so clear that something was wrong. A Padawan learner as successful as him, as fast-learning as him, and as the chosen one – as they supposed him to be – he couldn’t lose his connection to the force. Yet it felt like the sand on his home planet; falling through between his fingers. The feeling it left was coarse – it got everywhere; he felt the loss in his hands, his mind, his very soul.
Too distracted by the racing of his thoughts and his heavy chest, he didn’t bother nor thought of pretending to be in a decent state of mind. He was restless, distracted and the sprout of something vicious had started to grow in his soul.
The master shifted his face from around the training grounds to his Padawan. Anxiety was reaching him in waves; he didn’t need to feel it in the force or the bond they came to form between them. Hongjoong had become an open book for him; his emotions pages for him to read.
“I am sorry that I have been away, Hongjoong,” Yonghwan then said and walked past him, motioning him to follow. They walked down the long and naturally enlightened hallways of the Jedi Temple, and up to the meditation rooms; they were far from noise and closed off. “I have requested the council to no longer send me out to missions, as I want to complete your training and encourage you to reach your full potential.”
Yonghwan was strong in the force, harsh yet fair and gentle when he needed to be, and in addition one of the youngest Jedi Masters known. A role model for every Youngling and Padawan, even Jedi Knights sought to share his wisdom. There was no envy – not the Jedi way – nor jealousy – also, not the Jedi way. Yet, a kind of idolization had established itself around the young Master.
The Master’s eyes closed as he sat down on the soft cushion on the floor and crossed his legs. He could see his Padawan; his signature prominent in the force. Wild and restless, confused even. “Sit, meditate with me.”
Hongjoong felt like a Youngling again; nine years old and scared, hiding behind Yonghwan as they leave Tatooine. He closed his eyes and dove into the force; surrendering to its will. “There is no secret to keep from you, Master.”
“Have no shame to feel, Hongjoong,” Yonghwan encourages, “you are human after all.”
“I’m having nightmares… or visions, I cannot tell. They are dark and I find it hard to resist the… feeling they leave,” Hongjoong admitted and opened his mind, relaxing into the comforting light of his Master. In times of confusion and dilemma, Yonghwan had always been a pillar to rely on. The endless patience he offered him in need and the understanding he was granted made him fall in dangerous trust, or was it attachment?
“The dark side feeds off of your fears, do not fear it. The force has two sides, balance can only exist with both, Hongjoong.”
The teachings of the Jedi spoke of a type of binary of the force: the light and the dark. While they also claimed not to believe in absolutes, the perception of the Force and what possibilities its use grated the force-sensitive, was rather framed as small, limited.
As a Master, and former student to his own Master, Yonghwan did not believe in absolutes, not when it came to the kind of the Force. The philosophy was rather easy and shortly said: The Force is one, accessed by all. The Force is one, you are the wielder, you define its possibilities corresponding to your capabilities; as the Force is capable of all.
As the legacy laid upon him from his late Master, it was his responsibility to give his wisdom down to his Padawan in their honor.
As Hongjoong felt like floating in nothingness, he was at peace. It gave him a sense of safety; meditating on his actions with his master’s guidance. The Padawan could see clearly in the Force. His feelings were transparent. His master in front of him, the fellow Jedi in the temple all around him, the younglings playing on the floors beneath them, the traffic that filled the whole planet of Coruscant; they were all so clear to him. He could sense the republic’s spaceships orbiting; deliveries coming in and going out. The endless space, stars, other planets and suns, other species and lifeforms, a ship.
A force signature – unusual familiarity radiated in waves. The energy densed quickly and a shadow laid itself over him.
A vision blurred what he was sensing just before and he found himself on a space station, orbiting. On his body a black cloak, in his hand a bled saber; it's color as deep as blood. His hand rose and a promise of bloodshed and revenge rolled over his lips.
“This is not the Jedi way,” Hongjoong said firmly and tried to hold onto his Master’s presence in the force. “I’m having visions of myself, various versions of myself in the future, but all engulfed in anger and agony…”
Yonghwan took a deep breath and reached out to him again, this time he was shielded by a shadow faintly laying over him. “Your future is uncertain, do not let your visions influence you. Do not fear to feel, but do not let fear control you.”
As the Master returned from his meditative state and watched his apprentice fight his visions, a heaviness laid itself on his shoulders and he felt the urge to entrust himself to the Grandmaster as soon as his schedule allowed him to.
Uncertain the future may be, but shadows were rising in the force that seemed to put leashes around them; directing them to behave after their wishes. His mind was at ease, trusting in the force and the chosen one to bring back balance.
“You’re never alone, my Padawan… it is the rule of two.”