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29-04-2023, 10:00 PM
Entry #1
A young Pureblooded rolled a sheet of flimsiplast before him, as he took a seat onboard of Th'Asidra. Deep sigh, quick glance around the mess hall was made as Khírus rolled a pen between his fingers before starting to write.
“ ‘Do you want your family name to stay in the shadows, Acolyte?’ Was one of the few first things I heard after my arrival on the flagship of House Horuset Th'Asidra or Purifier in Basic. The question made me think my mother, a person even though wise and skilled, but having no faith in her own son and with her only fear that I would become nothing, be nothing. A question what has made me think about my future, as a craftsman, as a combatant many many days and nights after my arrival. No, I don’t want my family name to stay in the shadows, but before I become Sith however.. I do not have place for wishes and dreams and the only thing I must focus upon, is to impress my supervisors.”
The Acolyte took a small swig from his canteen before looking around again and continued to write.
“Am I here to make friends? There are no place for friends on the path we have chosen, or has been chosen for us. An ally, perhaps but never a friend. I am skeptical towards everyone who claim having a close friend or many of them. I.. wished for a brother or sister with whom I could have trained, grown and eventually became a pair so skilled that our fighting would have been more like a deadly dance, graceful yet devastating, than just a combat. I have observed my fellow Acolytes and there are those whom I already respect but also those who I would like to see gone, preferably via an airlock.
Those Sith above myself have truly earned their ranks, ranks which one day I will be a part of. The Th'Asidra as a vessel is like something I have never seen before, although I have only seen a single deck of it, but the shrine and sparring rings which in a way are one and the same. Inside both of them we all battle with our body and mind and without the one being strong, there is no possibility of the other staying alive. ‘The body is only as strong as the mind is.’ my father used to say and there is truth in his words, may Zyantha took him in her army where ever he may be..”
Khírus felt a sharp pain on his palms and quickly after a frown appeared on his face when a sensation of anger and disappointment filled him and then he tossed the pen from his hand. Another deep sigh as he removed his gloves and watched a pair of scarred palms, before putting the gloves back on and summoning the pen after brief channel of the Force and let his arm to glide over the flimsiplast.
“We had a lesson hosted by one of the Pureblooded Apprentices and like my mother feared, I was nothing and I was the first to fail levitating a cluster of hot coals above our heads. First and second ones I managed to keep up, but the third broke my focus and I shall have scars to remind me of my failure as long as I breath. The coals burned trough the gloves and partially melted the cloth on my skin but.. It was nothing compared to the pain what my mother could inflict on me during training. Bones fractured and cartilage broken during the years she trained me, so second and third degree burns were almost welcoming pain.. Almost. I need to meditate upon the days I have spent here and wish for success for the days to come.”
The young Pureblood read trough how his arm had interpreted his mind before rolling the sheet of flimsiplast and putting it inside his robes and made his way towards the shrine.
A young Pureblooded rolled a sheet of flimsiplast before him, as he took a seat onboard of Th'Asidra. Deep sigh, quick glance around the mess hall was made as Khírus rolled a pen between his fingers before starting to write.
“ ‘Do you want your family name to stay in the shadows, Acolyte?’ Was one of the few first things I heard after my arrival on the flagship of House Horuset Th'Asidra or Purifier in Basic. The question made me think my mother, a person even though wise and skilled, but having no faith in her own son and with her only fear that I would become nothing, be nothing. A question what has made me think about my future, as a craftsman, as a combatant many many days and nights after my arrival. No, I don’t want my family name to stay in the shadows, but before I become Sith however.. I do not have place for wishes and dreams and the only thing I must focus upon, is to impress my supervisors.”
The Acolyte took a small swig from his canteen before looking around again and continued to write.
“Am I here to make friends? There are no place for friends on the path we have chosen, or has been chosen for us. An ally, perhaps but never a friend. I am skeptical towards everyone who claim having a close friend or many of them. I.. wished for a brother or sister with whom I could have trained, grown and eventually became a pair so skilled that our fighting would have been more like a deadly dance, graceful yet devastating, than just a combat. I have observed my fellow Acolytes and there are those whom I already respect but also those who I would like to see gone, preferably via an airlock.
Those Sith above myself have truly earned their ranks, ranks which one day I will be a part of. The Th'Asidra as a vessel is like something I have never seen before, although I have only seen a single deck of it, but the shrine and sparring rings which in a way are one and the same. Inside both of them we all battle with our body and mind and without the one being strong, there is no possibility of the other staying alive. ‘The body is only as strong as the mind is.’ my father used to say and there is truth in his words, may Zyantha took him in her army where ever he may be..”
Khírus felt a sharp pain on his palms and quickly after a frown appeared on his face when a sensation of anger and disappointment filled him and then he tossed the pen from his hand. Another deep sigh as he removed his gloves and watched a pair of scarred palms, before putting the gloves back on and summoning the pen after brief channel of the Force and let his arm to glide over the flimsiplast.
“We had a lesson hosted by one of the Pureblooded Apprentices and like my mother feared, I was nothing and I was the first to fail levitating a cluster of hot coals above our heads. First and second ones I managed to keep up, but the third broke my focus and I shall have scars to remind me of my failure as long as I breath. The coals burned trough the gloves and partially melted the cloth on my skin but.. It was nothing compared to the pain what my mother could inflict on me during training. Bones fractured and cartilage broken during the years she trained me, so second and third degree burns were almost welcoming pain.. Almost. I need to meditate upon the days I have spent here and wish for success for the days to come.”
The young Pureblood read trough how his arm had interpreted his mind before rolling the sheet of flimsiplast and putting it inside his robes and made his way towards the shrine.
Discord:
lord_saltaeon
