Because of the main character's age at the beginning of the story
there are no sexual relations at all in this chapter
; the main character becomes 18 before this chapter ends. Only time will tell what will happen to him as the story continues.
All feedback is welcome, let me know where you'd like it to go but most importantly don't forget to point out how I can improve
*****
Young Achilles was found as a baby with an extreme connection to the Force. He had green eyes that looked like emeralds; he kept his blond hair cut short almost bald. His birthplace was kept from him during his training at the Jedi temple. The Jedi Masters treated him with slight caution, believing his life was shrouded in mystery. They had focused on patience, believing that they could mold him into their ideal Jedi.
It was going to be his 13
th
birthday soon; it signaled the last chance for a Master to call upon a youngling as an apprentice. If no one picked him by his birthday the youngling would be cast out of the Jedi order to be a farmer or some other non Jedi path on some unknown planet.
Many days were filled with training, today marked the last chance for young Achilles. His last sparring session, the young boy could only hope A Jedi Master had come to watch him fight. Reaching out the young boy could sense many Force sensitive beings watching, but couldn't make out who they were.
Blindfolded; he held his lightsaber tight between his fingers. Focusing the living force around him, he reached out to feel his opponent. No doubt faced with another student hoping for a worthy Jedi Master to be watching him/her fight and impress. Their blade hissed through the air. Achilles barely had enough time to dodge with his thoughts distracting him. The heat nearly burned his skin; it came too close for comfort.
He listened intently for the sound of his foe's lightsaber, for breathing, the scrape of a shoe. Such sounds echoed loudly in the small training room of the temple. His foe was rushing forward motivated by irritation and fatigue, for the fight had been going on for quite some time. Achilles raised his weapon and rolled to his right as his opponent's blade slammed down into the floor beside me. The saber crackled and buzzed, the sound echoed loudly. Leaping back, Yshomatsu heard the sing of the lightsaber; his foe attempted another hasty strike.
Sweat trickled underneath Yshomatsu's blindfold, making his eyes sting. He tuned it out along with all feelings of his aching body. Allowing the Force to tune into every muscle, it moved through him. Giving him the agility and speed needed to continue dodging attacks one after the other. Achilles swung his blade up to block the next blow. Leaping high, somersaulting over his attacker's head, and thrusting his blade down where their heart should be.
"Aargh!" The other student howled in surprised rage. If they had been using Jedi Knight Lightsabers it would have been a killing blow. However apprentices in the Jedi Temple used training sabers set at low power. A blow from such a blade would only singe the skin. At the very worst they would need a healer to attend the wounds.
He could sense the Force flowing around him, within him. He could feel the living Force in his opponent, the dark ripples caused by their anger. Focusing all his might on holding back his own anger, Achilles assumed a defensive stance. They were trained to protect the weak but never to let anger fuel them. For long moments, he fought as if in a graceful dance, leaping away, dodging or blocking attacks, never striking.
His muscles ached. Sweat drenched his tunic. His opponent fought desperately, as though their life depended on it. His foe's blade hummed as it angled toward his throat. A touch there would signal a killing blow and he would lose the fight. Thinking this was his last chance to become a Jedi Knight, he gave in to his impatience and pushed forward in an aggressive attack. He could feel his foe's surprise and used their uncertainty to aim a sizzling attack.
Instead of waiting to gauge a response, Achilles attacked suddenly, nearly forcing his opponent to drop their lightsaber. He brandished his saber in both hands, swinging brutally. His foe tried to block a second time and fell back; their lightsaber switched off and skittered over the uneven floor out of reach.
Achilles posed his saber at his opponent's throat, the fight was over, he had won... He sensed disappointment from among those watching. He had given in to his anger and went against the Jedi code, their way of defense, defeating your opponent by tiring them out. Rather than how he had handled the long fight.
The next day Achilles had turned 13 and with the Jedi order busy at war with the Sith Empire, no Jedi Master had called on him to be their apprentice. The time for his judgment had come.
Achilles walked down the long hallway of the Jedi temple. On his way to the round table; the High council would decide his fate. The walls were decorated with long parchments, ceiling to floor. Boasting the Jedi Order with their symbol stitched into each one.
Finally after the long walk he stood before the massive doors. The last barrier between him and his future, the Jedi Masters within ordered the doors to be opened. The Masters had sensed the young Achilles approach long before he arrived.
He nearly jumped out of his skin, startled by the doors opening the moment he stopped before them. He wasn't well attuned to the Force yet, always worrying about the present. Taking a deep breath, he entered the room. All eyes were trained on him, making him feel awkward and out of place.
"Achilles," one of the Nautoian Jedi Masters spoke. He's an amphibious humanoid native to the Sabion area of Glee Anselm, a world of wetlands. They can breathe underwater and possess thick, rubbery flesh usually green and spotted, with webbed fingers and toes. A crown of long green tendrils that resemble smaller versions of a Twi'lek's in place of hair. These appendages are sensory organs that allow them to read pheromones, or the emotional state of those in their vicinity.
"It is with deep regret that I am to inform you, that no Master is available to take you on as an apprentice." Achilles let out a sigh of disappointment. "As it is the Jedi way, if a youngling is not taken as an apprentice by the age of 13, that youngling will be set on a new path out of the Jedi Order."
"But... I've trained to be a Jedi Knight my whole life, it's all I know!" The boy yelled back rashly.
"Giving in to that anger is not the Jedi way, young padawan learner," insisted the Nautoian Master, rising from his seat. "I am sorry but it is written in the Jedi Code, therefore it must be followed."
"No Master, I will not... I... I did not train my whole life to be a... a farmer." He continued to shout rashly without thinking. He looked briefly to his right, glaring out of one of the many open windows within the round room. He felt a slight tug as if the Force itself was calling out to him.
Another Jedi Master rose to speak, sensing much fear within the young boy. "You have trained your whole life to use the Force young man, and there are many ways to use the Force for good besides becoming a Jedi Knight." She was a Miraluka, a race sharing common genetic histories with humans, the main difference being that they are born without eyes. Wearing head dresses to cover their faces, with the help of the Force they developed the ability to see the energy that forms the world around them.
Achilles turned back from the window with a smirk upon his face, "I will be the greatest Jedi Knight this galaxy has ever seen." And with that he took off in a full sprint for the window. Electing a gasp from everyone in the room save one, a small, yet wise Jedi Master with green skin and pointed ears. For he alone foresaw what was coming and secretly was proud of the young boy. The old Jedi Master was part of an unknown species that many years in the future would be known as 'Yoda's Species.'
