Know the sight of thin lined lips, the hard set of his jaw, all
the remains of some infernal meeting with an infernal Council.
One that doesn't know what they are missing by leaving him
behind, dismissing what he says, what he wants, out of hand
more often than not. Sometimes I like to imagine they're fools,
plain and simple, but know in my heart that isn't the case.
He wants too little of them, they want too much of him and
therein lies the beginning, the middle and end of their story.
But still, they call on him, argue with him and send him away
again, not willing to give in the slightest. They cannot
relinquish their Code and he cannot relent his will, and so the
impasse will remain uncrossed; a bridge too rigid to span a
river too wild.
Secretly, I feel pride in having a Master like this, one who
refuses to yield and yet, somehow, remains serene.
A trick I have yet to learn, and doubt I ever will.
It's been a productive day for me, for I've been good, as good
as I'll ever be and I imagine he is pleased. He trusts me by
now, trusts me to do my duty and be the student he can rely on
without constant guidance.
I am growing up and he's proud of that fact, even when he
misses the sleepy boy tucked away beside his knee. Little does
he know that child lives on, hiding beneath a cloak of
responsibility, one that is light and transparent still.
For there have been days I've let him down, purposefully, so as
to give him pause, forcing him to turn his eyes back toward me,
searching and fierce. Letting his vision wander over my mind
and soul, checking for cracks in the armor he's taught me to
weave over myself, making sure all that matters is in its safe
and proper place. Forcing him to allow the world outside of our
bond to pass away, out of sight, if only for a short time.
I enjoy this examination, revel in the attention, the little
boy hidden beneath the cloak smiling at his Master's love and
care.
But there'll be none of that tonight. Tonight he is weary and I
have no wish to burden him more. He needs rest, more than he is
willing to admit, and I want nothing more than to see him
peaceful and content.
He sits down slowly, a complaint of an aching head skittering
somewhere near his tongue. It's bitten back, but I've already
heard it. I place the tea in his hand before he can request it
and for a moment he stares at the green leaves floating on its
surface, as if they can impart some vision ... some portent
unknown.
After a time, the thought seems to amuse him and he destroys
the oracle with a long, noisy sip. It's good, he compliments.
It's very good. Won't you have some, Padawan? Come, share while
it's still hot, while the steam is rising and you can smell the
ciriila and macei combined.
Come and share with me.
I shake my head. Not until my Master is done, then I will have
what is left. I will take mine cold or not at all, and have no
regrets for the loss. Happy to kneel and pour, that's enough
for the moment.
For I don't want to be your equal. Not yet.
My refusal disappoints him and he sighs, but I am only telling
the truth. For the day will come soon enough when my destiny
comes roaring down like a western storm and all the skills he's
taught me will stretch out before me in a banquet of endless
choices.
A day when he'll cut away my childhood with the sacred knife
and hand me back the blade, confident I will no longer cut
myself on its careless, tearful edge. Days when the saber in my
hand will burn my palms a blistering red and only his lessons
will keep me from dropping it where I stand, saving my life,
keeping me from the abyss beyond.
Days when nothing but the memory of his voice will keep me from
the Darkness that lies just beyond ... waiting for my fall.
I know all these things well enough, for this much he has
taught to me.
The tea is finished and he lies down to sleep, still aching and
tired. I lie beside him, making sure he is comfortable and wait
for his dreams to begin. He shields his past from me, shields
any vision of the future, but his dreams he leaves open, as if
inviting me in to dream along with him and wonder at the shadow
world unfolding.
When I close my eyes I can see his dream as if it is my own and
I marvel at its detail. I can watch and listen as he bades me
to follow him down a long, bright path, taking me into a winter
garden and with a wave of his hand, he makes every flower
bloom.
Sits me down beside him, folds me to his heart, takes my mouth
beneath his own, and I taste . . . surprised. Delighted.
Delighted to return the kiss tenfold, standing as his equal
...knight to knight, strength to strength, a sleepy boy no
more. Sharing passion and delight, fascination and joy, I am no
longer willing to remain content apart ... nor willing to take
only what is leftover after he's completed his journey alone.
I will share the cup of life with him and have no regrets for
the taking.
It isn't long before I fall asleep beside him, the dream
continuing on, perhaps for the rest of our days and beyond.
It's possible, more than possible I believe.
I know all these things well enough, for this much he has
taught to me.
Archive 