The Jedi Temple - Coruscant
The day Zen knelt in the Hall of Knighthood, the sun poured through the skylights like liquid gold. Master Kaeden stood before him, hands folded in solemn pride, while the Council watched from their high seats.
"You have shown discipline, compassion, and clarity of purpose," Kaeden said, his voice steady yet warm. "By the will of the Force, you are ready to serve as a Jedi Knight."
A lightsaber was placed in Zen's palms, his own, which he crafted few days earlier. He bowed, a mixture of awe and heaviness swelling in his chest. A Jedi Knight. The words carried weight, yet part of him felt hollow. Every triumph seemed to carry an echo of absence.
After the ceremony, Kaeden laid a hand on his shoulder.
"Remember, Zen. Knighthood is not the end of your path, it is only the beginning. The galaxy will test you in ways no Master can prepare you for."
Zen nodded. "I won't fail you."
Kaeden's eyes softened, but his reply was quiet.
"Do not fear failing me. Fear failing yourself."
Weeks later, the Council placed a young Padawan under his care.
Tiffany, though she insisted on being called Tif, was sharp-eyed, quick-tongued, and restless in a way that reminded Zen of himself before the war had carved lines into his spirit. She was barely into her teens, but there was something fierce about her.
"I heard you begged the Council to take your brother with you when you were a child," she blurted out during one of their first training sessions.
Zen froze, his practice saber halting mid-swing. "Who told you that?"
"Stories float around the Temple," Tif said, shrugging. "Is it true?"
Zen deactivated his saber, staring at its hilt for a long moment.
"Yes. It's true."
"And they refused?"
His silence was answer enough.
Tif tilted her head. "That's not fair."
Zen looked at her then, and for a heartbeat, the rawness of his past cracked through his calm facade.
"No," he said softly. "It wasn't."
From that day forward, Tif watched him differently. Not just as a Master, but as someone carrying a wound she could feel, even if she didn't yet understand it.
The Underworld – Coruscant's Depths
Nox followed the hooded figure into a den lit by crimson glow rods and lined with ancient stone, long forgotten by the world above. The air was heavy, charged, as if the shadows themselves bent toward the man at its center.
Darth Vrakus.
His presence was suffocating, yet intoxicating. Every word seemed to burrow under Nox's skin, stripping him bare and whispering promises into the cracks.
"The Jedi saw weakness and anger in you," Vrakus said, pacing slowly. "But I see strength. Rage is strength. Loss is strength. They feared it because they could not control it."
Nox clenched his fists. "They took my brother… and left me to rot."
Vrakus' mouth twisted into a cold smile.
"And so they forged you into something greater. Every scar, every betrayal, all of it has prepared you to break their chains."
He extended a lightsaber hilt, not polished and silver, but jagged, blackened, its crystal humming with a crimson pulse.
"Take it. Ignite it. Feel its truth."
Nox's hands trembled as he gripped the weapon. When the blade hissed to life in blood-red fire, it cast his face in a glow that matched the fury in his eyes. For the first time, he felt power not as a dream, but as something real, alive in his grasp.
"What do you want from me?" Nox asked, his voice low.
Vrakus' eyes gleamed.
"Become the weapon your brother never dared to be."
Nox tightened his grip, the red blade humming. His brother's face rose in memory, Zen's hand slipping free from his sleeve, choosing the Jedi over him.
"I will," he whispered.
The Jedi Temple – Night
On the balcony of his quarters, Zen stood beneath the stars, Tif asleep in the training hall below after another day's lessons. He looked out at the endless cityscape, lights stretching into infinity.
He thought of his brother. Where he might be. What he might be becoming.
Zen's hand closed over the railing, knuckles white.
"I'll find you, Nox," he murmured. "And when I do… I'll bring you here with me."
Far below, in the hidden dark, Nox whispered a vow of his own.
"I'll never be weak again. And when I see you, brother… you'll know what it means to be left behind."
Two promises. Two sparks.
And the fire was only beginning.