The Jedi Code. I’ve been learning it since I arrived, and I’ve practically got it memorized. It’s so different from anything the Sith would teach, and indeed, the Jedi Code directly conflicts with that of the Sith. The two certainly cannot coexist within the same mind. Warden Kethry laid the code out in a bit more detail this evening, explaining what each line meant. For the most part, it was easy to follow and understandable, but putting her words into actual practice? Well… that is another matter entirely.

I took the opportunity to ask her if Jedi ghosts were real, given the final line of the Jedi Code. There is no Death; there is the Force. I can’t help but wonder what would have happened to me if Master Tam’a’ryth hadn’t saved my life. If Jedi rejoin the force, what happens to the Sith? Are they rejected by the force, and if so, where else is there for them to go? Perhaps they simply cease to exist entirely, and I wonder what that feels like, but it seems so incomprehensible to me. Then again, becoming one with the force, as they say, is equally as confusing to imagine.

I suppose it must be good, though. Peaceful, perhaps. The Jedi do not fear this fate, indeed their very code seems to inspire comfort in the face of death itself. But… I can’t help but worry. I used to be Sith. I have killed and conquered. I have changed, and I am still changing. Will it be enough? Would it ever be enough? Am I doomed to be rejected by the force for my history, or does it share the forgiveness of the Jedi it seems to favor? I suppose there’s only one real way to find out, and with any luck, I won’t have to deal with that for a while yet.

I also met another former Sith, a Togruta called Nassah'Shae. We spoke at length about our pasts, and I suppose she found comfort in knowing that there was someone else here to share her struggles. She confided in me about her guilt, though I can do little to soothe it. I will never forget what I’ve done, and neither will she. We shouldn’t. Those memories, painful as they are, will haunt us both forever, but with a purpose. To drive us to become better people, to protect instead of harm.

I have forgiven myself, but forgiving is not forgetting. It took nearly a year to get to where I am now. Nassah'Shae has a long way to go, but at least she has a friend to share in her struggles. I also met a young twi’lek, though her name has slipped from my mind. She expressed that she had been a slave on Nar Shaddaa, in service to some hutt. Perhaps coincidentally, my initial mission to Nar Shaddaa had been to kill a hutt, and quite the vile one in particular. I certainly hope she wasn’t among the citizens I sent scattering in terror that night. I wouldn’t have harmed any of them, as they were not the target of my mission, but the fear of seeing a Sith slaying criminals in the streets is surely traumatic enough as it is.

It has been a long time since I have genuinely dueled with another Jedi. There are the classes, of course, but an actual spar? Truthfully, it has been some time since I’ve trusted myself enough to allow for such things. When Knight Jinora announced that she’d be hosting a combat event, I finally decided that I trusted myself enough to attend. Whether or not that was a mistake is, as of yet, uncertain. But I shouldn’t get ahead of myself.

We were divided into two teams, and smaller teams within those two teams. I, alongside other Jedi, spectated the first duel between Lyceus and several opponents. Despite his skill, numbers could overwhelm even the most competent of warriors. I’ve always done my best to avoid such battles, favoring fights against a single enemy. It is far easier to pick out the weakest target and pick them off from the sidelines than it is to try and tackle an entire group altogether.

So, when it was my turn, along with the rest of my team, I did just that. There was another Pureblood there, Brodran, I believe. He has an interesting story, and he and I have already gotten acquainted once before. I wasn’t expecting him to be able to whack me over the head, though. Luckily for me, it was a mere training blade, so the damage was minimal. A bit of bleeding from a shallow gash and some pain, but nothing too significant.

Obviously, I was embarrassed. I don’t have a clue what had been going through my mind in that moment to distract me from such a bold attack. He quite literally flung himself at me head-on. I suppose I’m only mortal, and thus… just as prone to mistakes as any other. Perhaps I had simply underestimated my fellow Pureblood, and in doing so, had opened myself up to his attack.

Regardless, it ultimately worked in my favor. Brodran very clearly established himself as the strongest opponent on the opposing team, which meant, of course, that I promptly targeted his companion instead. Perhaps it was unsportsmanlike of me to go after someone who likely could hardly defend themselves against what was, essentially, a fully trained Sith (turned Jedi, of course). I did not even know her name. I simply… picked her out as the possible weak link and eliminated her from the battle, as quickly and efficiently as possible.

That was how I had been trained, in the past. Why drag out a fight when you could pick off the easier foes first? Destroy the morale of the strongest who were unable to defend their allies. It sounds quite vicious, doesn’t it? You’d be correct in that assumption. The Sith do not care about who is weak, and who is defenseless, and they were never above cowardly tricks that might win them a battle they’d otherwise lose. I’m not proud of the tactic, but I do understand it’s effectiveness.

The other two young Jedi on my team, an Initiate and a youngling, were able to tag-team Brodran enough to keep his attention while I promptly took care of the Pureblood’s companion. I have learned to be disciplined in my time within the Order, and as such, I am not quite the wild and untamed wildfire that I used to be. I restrained my attacks to insure that my opponent was not badly injured, before pivoting back to face Brodran at last.

To my surprise, my two companions had managed to fight him off. The duel was won. That wasn’t to say that I was too happy about it, though. Not only had I embarrassed myself with Brodran’s quick attack (and my failed defense), but I could have sworn to have sensed a familiar ice washing through my spirit, seeping through skin to slither like a viper within my veins. The Dark Side. Initially, I had feared that it was emanating from me! That I had… lost control and somehow hurt my opponent in the duel.

But no, the source was from another, an inexperienced youngling on my team, one of the two Jedi that had been battling Brodran. The sensation brought up far too many emotions, and memories. That, alongside my aching head, made me quite irritable. I assisted Brodran, who had been temporarily blinded by debris, to Master Tam’a’ryth for some care. He’s a talented fighter, perhaps on the same level as myself. I can’t quite be sure from a single duel, but I could tell that he knew well enough what he was doing in that fight. Had that been a real battle, Brodran would have struck a fatal blow against me.

I made my way to Adept Kera for some healing in regards to my head, and that was when that youngling, the one who had lost control in the spar, decided to make some snide comment about my face eating training blades. She was probably just teasing, I don’t know… but I was irritated, embarrassed, and in pain. I glared at her, nearly snapped at her, but a few deep breaths got me through the next few minutes it took for Kera to patch up my head, and then I promptly scrambled away.

I’ve never liked the cold, hence my constant need for warmth. It’s never unusual to spot me strolling about beneath the soft heat of a blanket, or curled near the flames of a roaring fire. Now, it seems such measures will not be required quite so often. Master Tam’a’ryth hosted a short class on a unique force ability known as Tapas. It’s something I’m surprised I never bothered to learn before. For the most part, it keeps the warmth in, and the cold out. Of course, meditation is still quite the struggle for me, and that means that Tapas and Curato Salva are as equally difficult to utilize.

Regardless, I know well enough that practice will serve me well. Master Tam’a’ryth can have her blankets back, so that I might be encouraged to actively train myself with this newfound force ability. That’s not to say I won’t still enjoy a quick nap next to the fireplace, of course. Nothing can replace a pleasant napping spot.

Unfortunately, my intense focus on trying to utilize Tapas for the rest of that morning meant that I had developed quite the migraine throughout that afternoon. This proved to be quite embarrassing for me, as my next scheduled class was none other than Jar’Kai… this was my speciality as a Sith, alongside the quick minded form of Ataru. I knew its ends and outs already, I knew the blocks, the slashes, the stance. In the past, pain would be utilized as fuel for my attack, a doorway into more powerful sensations, such as fury and hatred against my opponent. Now? Pain only serves to hinder me. I can’t seem to find any use for it at all.

This, of course, is what led to my embarrassment. Uncertain on how to manage the pain, I struggled throughout the class. Despite my expertise in Jar’Kai, I probably looked like a stumbling newborn throughout the lesson. The other Initiate that was present had absolutely no idea what they were doing at all, so at the very least… I wasn’t alone in looking like a fool. He thundered off like a storm cloud, clearly agitated by the class, and the instructor. I suppose seeing the other Initiate’s irritation allowed me to keep myself calm, as if it were some reminder that I had changed, and that I was still changing, and that dipping into old habits, such as blind anger, would not be tolerated.

Master Urifida is not such a bad teacher, though. She’s gentle and straight to the point, so there’s little room for confusion. She’s a lot nicer than any Sith instructor would be, and significantly more patient, as well. After all, I wasn’t electrocuted on the spot for failing to assume a stance that I already know so very well. I’m not so sure what happened to the other Initiate. After class ended, Master Urifida and the other Jedi undoubtedly had a serious talk with the guy. As I was dismissed, I did not linger to listen in. No, I needed a nap to soothe my head pain, and so I left to do exactly that.

I’ve since recovered, and found myself visiting the training areas of Alderaan’s Temple on more than one occasion, just to be certain that I hadn’t forgotten my previous training entirely. Ah, but no, it was all still there, like muscle memory. I could practice the stances, the slashes, the blocks, and the stabs. It was still quite fresh within my mind. But, I will make a point to continue practicing Jar’Kai each day, if only because I have rediscovered my enjoyment of it. It also makes for excellent exercise.

Perhaps I messed up today. I'm not so sure. Maybe I didn't. It can be quite difficult to read the Jedi, far more-so than any Sith. My old people are simple enough. You can be assured that they are intending to harm you, one way or another. The Jedi are quite a bit less predictable though. Regardless, I had attended an Investigations class today, where Master Sur'realle was briefing us on the basics of crime scene management and witness interrogation. The Jedi certainly do things a lot differently than the Sith, but I've never had specifics before. I've never lived in the Republic, and I've never had a conversation with a Jedi that didn't involve the clashing of searing hot lightsabers an inch from my face. Well, until I was brought into the Order, of course.

Regardless, I inquired as to why the Jedi investigators don't simply use the force to persuade witnesses into being truthful, should they be lying. I could feel the tension from some in the group was almost palpable. One of the Temple Guards was hovering behind me, and I'm not entirely sure why. Perhaps it was because Master Sur'realle decided to step up and have a bit of a stare down with me. I don't know if she was trying to intimidate me or not, as they did in the Sith, but she's not nearly so frightening. Perhaps that's only because she isn't a ruthless member of the Dark Council, nor is she Lyceus, and I've certainly never stabbed her before. I don't think Master Sur'realle has any real reason to cause me harm, so perhaps she was merely trying to be clear with her answer, to ensure I understood. She explained that using force persuasion on witnesses was unethical, and that it would break trust. This, of course, I understood.

Trust is certainly something that I have come to recognize in my time within the Jedi. It is... a powerful thing. It is what allowed Lyceus and I to overcome our troubled past and start anew, or so I hope. He is far friendlier with me now than he was before, not cold, like ice, but warm like a candle. All smiles and bows and genuine compassion. I make sure to return the expressions. As for Sur'realle, she seems understanding and kind, a bit stern around the edges perhaps, but nonetheless, I trust that she and I will get along well, just as I trusted that she would not harm me during that class, despite her firmness. Trust is not something a Sith can ever rely on, but within the Jedi, the word has a great deal of importance.

She encouraged me after the class, so perhaps, despite the tension in the other students (and the mysterious Temple Guard), I hadn't done anything wrong at all. How else am I to learn how to better myself, and become a Jedi? Asking questions seems the better solution than simply... doing something unethical in the middle of a mission, and thus, finding myself in some cage. No, better that I learn all I can about the ways of the Jedi through inquiry and research. It is better for me that way, and better for everyone else, too. I only hope that the other Jedi will be so tolerant of my ignorance, when it comes to ethics and Jedi protocol. With all of the emphasis on trust this day, I must mention that it can be a very difficult thing to rebuild once broken.

As each day goes by, I seem to learn more and more. That is how it is supposed to be, of course. Nonetheless, I find myself overwhelmed at times. With so much to un-learn, and re-learn entirely, I often think that it feels impossible. It's not, I know. But it will take a great deal of time.

This entry is not quite meant to focus on such struggles, though. The dreaded meeting has finally passed. Lyceus and I have been brought together once again. Under the gaze of Master Tam'a'ryth and a dutiful temple guard, Lyceus made his apology. I will not lie and say that it was an easy thing to accept. The tension between us was obvious, but I cannot blame Lyceus for it entirely. It was I who nearly killed him, and though many months have passed since that fateful day, such scars are not so easy to forget, or to forgive. 

Regardless, I could sense that he was genuine, and as he was so willing to put his trust in me, I have decided to do the same. Lyceus has offered to assist me with my training, and I agreed to any help he could give. The meeting ended peacefully, perhaps with a bit of newfound understanding for one another. For the moment, the relationship between us is akin to a sprouting bloom. Perhaps in time, it can be nurtured and grown into a friendship.

I have crawled out of my hole again, it seems. I have not spoken to Tam'a'ryth since, have not laid eyes upon Lyceus Falls. No, I have been quiet, a ghost in the background, keeping to my room where it seemed safer than anywhere else. But I have been taught a great many things since I have joined the Order, and while I still have so much more to learn (and un-learn), I can at least make use of what has already been taught.

So I have been in meditation. I have recalled those lessons on the code, those instructions offered so graciously by those who have taken me in. I have emptied my mind, and where before I might describe a void, I have since found a better understanding of it. I float beneath the water, sight and sound dulled, but hidden senses alight and vibrant as ever. While beneath those waves, the light streamed into the depths like the sun, and I allowed my emotions to melt away, into the surrounding water.

There is a peace to be found in such a sensation, a feeling so unparalleled by anything else in the galaxy. While many might fear the emptiness, I have learned to embrace it, to use it to shed my feelings. There is no dread to be found in the swift waves and currents of such a meditation. The force is my anchor.

I still struggle to connect in such a way. It took me days before I finally felt as if I could be seen again. Here I am, regardless, better for it I think, like a butterfly completing some form of metamorphosis. I do not know why Lyceus reacted the way he did, and a part of me still feels at fault, but if Master Tam'a'ryth wishes to try and re-introduce us again, I will agree to it.