Bound

Blinded by Vision

"Well, I heard that Master Apopka and Master Tourin are both here specifically looking for a new padawan," Garen answered with a mischievous smile as if he were delivering some delicate intel. Bant leaned in and nodded seriously.

"And I heard that Master Yoda has been badgering some of the younger knights into taking padawans too. I heard Knights Rasiili and Cib-Tan even got thwacked on the shins before they agreed to come to watch the exhibition."

"What about... you know," Obi-Wan asked hesitantly. Bant and Garen exchanged knowing looks. A particular master had already stopped by the crèche asking questions about Obi-Wan, his skills, his academics, his medical records. Though he had never spoken to the boy directly, all four initiates had noticed the master's interest.

"Don't worry. He's here," Bant whispered then she directed her large eyes to the far left corner of the room. "Third row towards the middle."

The two boys casually glanced over their shoulders to lay eyes on the stoic visage of Bothan Master Jedi Nahar Goor Pama. Master Goor Pama had a long muzzle and sharp expressive ears that stuck out at odd angles from his chestnut brown mane of fur. It was known that the master had already raised two padawans successfully to knighthood and was now on the hunt for a third. Obi-Wan felt his chest swell with hope as he gazed upon the serene master sitting quietly in the stands. He turned back to his friends, a smile on his face.

"I think you're right, Garen. This is my year. I can just feel it. Something big is about to happen."

* * * * *

The tournament was running smoothly. Obi-Wan had advanced to the semi-finals with ease and all that stood between him and the final round was one last fight. Obi-Wan wiped the sweat from his brow as he gathered his calm and prepared himself for his next bout. Bant and Garen had already been eliminated and now took their seats behind him among the first row of spectators. Obi-Wan closed his eyes and swallowed the heady rush of anticipation. Just as he brought his breathing down to a slow and steady rate his light meditation was interrupted by an all too familiar voice.

"I hope you're ready to be embarrassed again, Oafy-Wan."

Obi-Wan opened his eyes and looked up to see the chubby face smirk of one Bruck Chun staring down at him.

"That is not my name," he replied dismissively. Ever since his earliest days in the crèche, Bruck had always seemed to have it out for him. The other boy would poke and prod him, taut and tease him mercilessly and yet never once had the other child ever faced real punishment. Somehow Bruck would always steer the blame away from himself and back to his victim, usually Obi-Wan. Bruck Chun was a bully, a talented bully with a saber, but a bully nonetheless.

"Once I win this round, all the masters will be looking to choose me and nobody will give a second thought to a clumsy kid like you, Oafy," Bruck sneered as he moved a wisp of his shaggy white hair from his eyes. Obi-Wan took a deep breath. Too many times he had allowed Bruck's jibes to pierce his calm, but not this time. This tournament was far too important. Obi-Wan looked steadily into the other boy's eyes.

"No matter who wins we will both do our best. The other Jedi will see that," he answered serenely. Bruck threw his head back in raucous laughter.

"What the other Jedi will see is that your best isn't good enough. See you in the ring, Oafy-Wan," he said as he walked away still laughing at his own wit. Obi-Wan stared at Bruck's retreating figure shaking his head when he felt a hand on his knee. He looked over and was met with the gimlet eyes of the Order's smallest master. Immediately, Obi-Wan jumped off the bench and knelt before the smaller Jedi.