A breath of mourning (open)

[Jacen]

The Jedi Padawan walked into his room slowly and moved to his bed, discarding his outer robes and lying them on a chair as he passed by. He sat down and buried his face in his hands. He had just gotten back from visiting his adopted parents and found that Betsy, the woman who had raised him since he could remember, had fallen ill and the doctors could do nothing to help her. He had pulled a few strings to see if any of the more qualified personal from the Jedi's medical ward could give better news, but even they were at a loss. It seemed as nothing could help her or for that matter even tell her what was wrong with her.

This can't be the end for her. She still has so much life left, Jacen thought as he silently began to cry, unaware that he had never even shut his door. Not that he cared. In fact the only thing he cared about was lying in a bed, gasping for every painful breath. If only I was stronger then I would be able to do something, but I can't. I can barely even lift a rock from the ground. Some Jedi I am.

[Jacen]

Eventually Jacen rolled over from his bed and onto the floor, awakening from a disturbed sleep. He could see Betsy in his dreams, calling out and there was nothing to do.

Slowly he got up from the floor and dressed himself. HE made his way out of the room towards the gardens, hoping the fresh air would do some good. The evening sun blinded him as he stumbled down the stairs and over to a bench near a water fountain.

[Kieran Devaneaux]

"Dining on ashes?" a familiar voice inquired.

Kieran stood from his bench and stepped into Jacen's view, smoothing out his white meditation robe. "You need your sleep, my friend. Yet....something troubles you. Otherwise, why would you be in the Temple gardens at night?" He paused a moment. "Why am I out here, for that matter?" He chuckled slightly.

[Jacen]

Jacen just shoook his head. "Not tired."

[Kieran Devaneaux]

Kieran nodded; he knew that could be one reason. But there was something else, he knew. "I see," he said only. "This is usually a good place to think, especially when you have something on your mind. Which I believe you do." Kieran looked over his fellow Padawan, trying to find what's going on. "Anything I can do?"

[Jacen]

"Not unless you can cure diseases," he replied without looking up.

[Kieran Devaneaux]

"No, I'm not that good yet. Slice your hand open, no problem. Slice it off, you're on your own." Kieran chuckled grimly. "Or catch something, whichever. I'm working on that, though." The Jedi captain glanced Jacen over. "What's on your mind? I'm here if you want to chat with someone."

[Jacen]

Jacen shook his head and ran his hand through his long hair. "A friend of mine...she's dying..."

[Kieran Devaneaux]

Kieran felt a sense of empathy for him. He had lost a good friend recently as well - an officer on the Skyrider who had hailed from Kieran's homeworld, killed by a young Sith apprentice, a potential conscript for his father's potential war against the Jedi Order - and Kieran himself in particular. "What ails her, exactly? I don't mean to pry, of course..."

[Jacen]

"I don't know. None of them know. Either it is something to rare to even be put into books or something new."