The vision energized him, helped him let go of his fears. In seconds, his every muscle was tunes to the Force. It moved through him, giving him the agility and speed that he needed.

Obi-Wan swung his blade up to block the next blow. The attacker’s lightsaber hummed and whirled down. Obi-Wan leaped high, somersaulting over his attacker’s head, and thrust his lightsaber down where the Togorian’s heart would be.

“Aargh!” the other student howled in surprised rage as Obi-Wan’s hot blade struck his neck. If Obi-Wan had been using a Jedi Knight’s lightsaber, it would have been a killing blow. But apprentices in the Jedi Temple used training sabers set to low power. The touch of the blade only gave a searing kiss, one that the healers might need to tend.

“That was a lucky blow!” the wounded apprentice shouted.

Until that moment, Obi-Wan had not known who he was fighting. He’d been led into the room blindfolded. Now he recognized the voice: Bruck Chun. Like Obi-Wan, Bruck was one of the oldest apprentices in the Jedi Temple. Like Obi-Wan, Bruck hoped to be a Jedi Knight.

“Bruck,” Yoda called calmly. “Leave your blindfold on. A Jedi needs not his eyes to see.”

But Obi-Wan heard the boy’s blindfold slap to the ground. Bruck’s voice was choked with fury. “You clumsy oaf!”

“Calm yourself, you will!” Yoda warned Bruck in a sharp tone he rarely used.

Every student at the Temple has his or her weaknesses. Obi-Wan knew his own too well. Everyday, he had to struggle to control his anger and his fear. The Temple was a test of character as much as skill.

Bruck struggled with his own simmering anger that could quickly ignite into hot rage. He usually kept it well under control, so that only other initiates glimpsed it.