The break between morning meditation and afternoon lightsaber drills was supposed to be for rest and reflection.
I was doing neither. Instead, I sat in one of the archive's smaller study rooms, surrounded by datapads displaying different galactic languages.
Basic, which I could already read and speak thanks to whatever quirk of transmigration had given me that knowledge.
Droidspeak, with its beeps and whistles that somehow made sense when I focused.
Mando'a, the harsh, clipped language of the Mandalorians. Sy Bisti, the trade language used across the Outer Rim. Sithese, ancient and dark. Huttese, guttural and unpleasant. And Shyriiwook, the complex language of the Wookiees that seemed to require vocal cords I simply didn't have.
My head was pounding.
"You look like you're trying to burn a hole through that datapad."
I looked up to find Derren standing in the doorway, his arms crossed, a concerned expression on his face. Behind him, Seris appeared, her silver eyes taking in the chaos of my study space with a single glance.
"I'm fine," I said, though even I could hear the strain in my voice.
"You're not fine," Derren said, stepping into the room. "You've been in here for two hours. Chief Librarian Nu sent us to check on you."
"I'm just studying," I protested.
Seris moved closer, her gaze flicking across the datapads. "You're trying to learn seven languages at once." Her tone was flat, but I caught the faint note of disbelief. "That's not studying. That's just self-destruction."
I wanted to argue, but the throbbing in my temples made it hard to think clearly. I'd been pushing too hard, trying to cram years of learning into weeks, and my child's body, no matter how strong in the Force I was, I still had limits.
"I need to learn them," I said quietly. "All of them. For... for the future."
Derren exchanged a glance with Seris, then pulled up a chair and sat across from me. "Cain, you're five years old. You have years to learn languages. Why are you doing this to yourself?"
Because I didn't have years. Because the Clone Wars were coming, and I'd need to speak Mando'a to have any hope of helping Mandalore. Because understanding Sithese might give me insight into the dark side that could help save Anakin. Because every skill, every piece of knowledge, might be the difference between success and catastrophic failure.
But I couldn't say any of that.
"I just... I want to be prepared," I said instead.
Seris was quiet for a moment, then she did something that surprised me: she sat down beside me, close enough that I could feel the warmth of her presence.
"Focus on one thing at a time," she said, her voice softer than I'd ever heard it. "You can't master everything at once. Even you have limits."
I looked at her, startled by the concern in her silver eyes. "I thought you'd be happy to see me struggle."
Her ears twitched, a tell I was learning to recognize. "Why would I be happy about that?"
"Because we're rivals," I said. "Because you want to be the best."
"I am the best," she said, but there was no heat in it. "Or I was, until you showed up." She paused, then added quietly, "But that doesn't mean I want to see you hurt yourself."
Derren grinned. "See? The ice princess does have a heart."
Seris's cheeks flushed, and she shot Derren a glare that could have melted durasteel. "I'm not worried about him. I'm worried that if he burns himself out, I won't have anyone worth competing against."
"Sure," Derren said, his grin widening. "That's definitely the only reason."
Before Seris could respond, the door slid open and several other younglings peeked in, Mira the Twi'lek, a Rodian boy named Teeko, and a few others I recognized from our meditation classes.
"Is it true?" Mira asked, her lekku twitching with curiosity. "Is Cain really trying to learn seven languages at once?"
"Yes he's trying," Derren said, shaking his head. "And he's almost about to fry his brain doing it."
The younglings laughed, and I felt my face heat with embarrassment. But there was no malice in their laughter, just the easy camaraderie of children who'd been training together for months.
"You're crazy, Cain," Teeko said, his large eyes blinking. "But in a good way."
Seris stood abruptly. "Alright, that's enough. Everyone out. Cain needs to rest, not be gawked at like a zoo exhibit."
The younglings scattered, still giggling, and Seris turned back to me. For a moment, her expression softened, and I saw something beneath the cool facade, genuine concern, maybe even affection.
"Thank you," I said quietly.
She nodded once, then turned and walked out, her posture as straight and proud as ever. Derren watched her go, then looked back at me with a knowing smile. "She likes you, you know."
"She tolerates me," I corrected.
"Same thing, for Seris." He stood and stretched. "Come on. Let's get some food. You look like you're about to pass out."
He was right. My head was still pounding, and exhaustion was pulling at me like a weight. I saved my progress on the datapads, I'd managed to make decent headway on Basic and Droidspeak, at least, and followed Derren out of the study room.
As we walked through the archives, I caught sight of Seris ahead of us, her white hair catching the light. She glanced back once, met my eyes, and then looked away quickly.
Maybe Derren was right. Maybe she did care, in her own complicated childish way. That night, I returned to the meditation I'd been practicing in secret.
The dormitory was quiet, the other younglings asleep in their bunks. I sat cross-legged on my bed, closed my eyes, and reached for the Force.
The transition was smoother now, almost effortless. The world around me faded, replaced by the familiar black void of absolute darkness. And there, scattered across the emptiness like stars in the night sky, were the lights.
I'd been studying them for weeks now, trying to understand what they meant. Each light did represent a Force-sensitive being, I was certain of that. But the details, and the colors, the brightness, and the way some lights pulsed while others remained steady, those were still mysteries I had yet to understand.
Tonight, I focused on the lights closest to me.
The green light, Master Yoda. I could see him now, sitting in the center of his light, his small form radiating calm and wisdom. The light itself was steady, unwavering, like a star that had burned for millennia and would burn for millennia more.
Near him, a purple light, Master Mace Windu, I realized. I'd seen him in the temple halls, his presence commanding and intense. He look just like his the actor Samuel Jackson that portrayed him in the movies. But he looked slightly younger, and more in shape. It showed in his sharp features and his posture. His Force light pulsed with controlled power, of the light and dark.
Further out, a blue light with flickering yellow edges, was Master Plo Koon. His light felt different from the others, warmer somehow, tinged with compassion.
And then there were the younglings.
I could see Derren's light, a steady blue-green, calm and bright. Seris's light was silver-white with yellow, it sharp and intense, like a blade catching the sun. And there, just at the edge of my perception, was a soft green light that felt familiar.
After watching it for a moment I realized who it was. I saw Barriss Offee. I hadn't met her yet, but I knew she was in the temple, a young Mirialan girl with dark blue eyes. I knew what her future held, and part of me hoped I could help her avoid it as well.
But it was the distant lights that drew my attention most.
Far away, at the very edge of the void, three crimson lights clustered together. They pulsed with a sickly energy that made my skin crawl, surrounded by shadows that seemed to writhe and twist.
Sith.
And above me, my own light, golden, bright, but edged with darkness that swirled. I still didn't understand what that meant. I forced myself to look away, to focus on the other lights. And that's when I saw him again.
Anakin.
His light blazed brighter than anything else in the void, a blue like the star that flickered silver-white .
I focused on the center of his light, and suddenly I could see him: a small boy with bright sky blue eyes and sandy blonde hair, his face looked dirty and his clothes worn. He looked like he was working on something, a droid, or a podracer maybe, his hands moving with some kind of focus.
And then, impossibly, he looked up. His blue eyes seemed like they were meeting mine across the impossible distance, and I felt a jolt of recognition. Like he could see me. Somehow, across the void, across the galaxy, he could see me here in the Jedi temple and in the void itself.
His expression shifted between, confusion, curiosity, and something else. Like he didn't know what he was looking at. Or maybe he couldn't actually see me, but feel me through the Force observing him.
I tried to reach out, to say something, but the vision shattered before I could form the words. I gasped, my eyes flying open, my small body drenched in sweat. Around me, the dormitory was still quiet. No one had noticed. But I couldn't shake the image of those blue eyes, staring at me across the void.
Anakin had seen me.
The next morning, Master Yoda led us through sparring drills in one of the training halls.
"Form I, you are learning," he said, pacing around the circle of younglings. "The foundation, it is. But now, introduce you to Form II, I will. Makashi, it is called. The way of the duelist."
He demonstrated, his movements slow and deliberate. Where Form I was broad and sweeping, designed for fighting multiple opponents, Form II was precise and elegant, focused on one-on-one combat.
"Economy of motion," Yoda explained. "Waste no energy. Every strike, purposeful. Every parry, exact."
We practiced the basic stances and strikes, our training sabers humming softly as we moved through the forms. I found myself drawn to Makashi immediately, it felt more natural than Form I, more suited to my adult mind's understanding of leverage and angles.
Seris, of course, picked it up just as quickly.
When Yoda called for sparring partners, she was the first to step forward, her silver eyes fixed on me.
"Youngling Cain," she said, her voice formal. "Will you spar with me?"
I bowed. "It would be an honor."
We took our positions in the center of the ring, training sabers ignited. The other younglings formed a circle around us, watching with interest.
"Begin," Yoda said.
Seris moved first, her blade coming in fast and low. I parried, redirecting her strike rather than blocking it directly, and countered with a thrust toward her shoulder. She sidestepped smoothly, her movements graceful and controlled.
We exchanged a flurry of strikes, each one precise, each one testing the other's defenses. I could feel the Force flowing through me, sharpening my reflexes, guiding my movements. But Seris was just as strong, just as fast.
She pressed forward, her strikes coming faster now, and I found myself on the defensive. She was good, better than she'd been even a week ago. Every spar, every drill, she was improving, adapting, and learning almost to quickly.
I waited for an opening, and when it came, a slight overextension on a high strike, I took it. I slipped inside her guard, tapped her chest with my saber, and stepped back.
"Point to Cain," Yoda announced.
Seris's jaw tightened, but she nodded and reset her stance. "Again."
We went again. And again. And again.
By the time Yoda called an end to the session, we were both drenched in sweat, our breathing heavy. I'd won more points than she had, but not by much. And every match, she'd pushed me harder.
"Excellent work, both of you," Yoda said, his eyes twinkling. "Improve, you both do. But remember: a duel, not just about winning, it is. About learning and growth."
We bowed, and as we stepped out of the ring, Derren approached with a grin.
"You two are insane," he said. "I thought you were going to go all day."
Seris wiped her face with a towel, her expression carefully neutral. "I would have, if Master Yoda hadn't stopped us."
"Of course you would have," Derren said, shaking his head. " I swear you're both obsessed."
I smiled despite my exhaustion. "Maybe a little."
Seris glanced at me, and for just a moment, I saw the faintest hint of a smile on her lips.
Well that's progress. Later that week, I found myself in the meditation gardens after dark.
The gardens were one of my favorite places in the temple, a series of terraced platforms filled with plants from across the galaxy, connected by winding paths and small bridges. At night, the gardens were lit by soft bioluminescent flowers that glowed in shades of blue and green, casting everything in an ethereal light.
I sat on a stone bench near the edge of one of the platforms, a datapad in my lap. I'd been reviewing my notes on Jedi history versus , trying to piece together a timeline of events, when I heard footsteps behind me.
"You look like you have a lot on your mind."
I turned to find a young girl standing in the archway, she was Mirialan, with soft green skin and dark blue eyes that seemed to catch the light. She wore the simple robes of a youngling, and her expression was calm, almost serene. It was Barriss.
"I tend to think a lot about the future," I said carefully. "Trying to prepare myself."
She tilted her head, studying me with an intensity that reminded me of Master Yoda. "What could a youngling like you need to prepare for right now, besides the Initiate trials?"
I hesitated. How much could I say without revealing too much? "I'm thinking past that. Past becoming a Padawan, or a Knight, or even a Master."
She was quiet for a moment, then stepped closer and sat on the bench beside me. "It's scary to think so far ahead when we don't even know what will happen tomorrow." Her voice was soft, thoughtful. "If I were you, I would focus on the now before it passes you by. That's something I heard Master Plo Koon say once."
The words hit me harder than I expected. Here I was, an adult mind in a child's body, so focused on the future that I was missing the present. And here was this girl, this child, offering wisdom I desperately needed to hear.
"Thank you," I said quietly. "I think you're right. I should try to enjoy the little things more."
She smiled, and it was warm and genuine. "I'm Barriss. Barriss Offee."
I extended my hand. "I'm Cain."
"I know who you are," she said, shaking my hand. "Everyone does. I saw you in the meditation room when you first arrived." Her expression grew distant, almost wistful. "I thought you were beautiful, how you shone like a golden star."
I felt my face heat. "You saw that?"
"I did." She paused. "You're very strong in the Force, Cain. But strength isn't everything. Sometimes, the strongest thing you can do is just... be present."
I looked at her, really looked at her, and saw wisdom far beyond her years. Barriss Offee. In the timeline I remembered, she would fall to darkness, driven by disillusionment and fear. But here, now, she was just a girl offering kindness to someone who needed it.
"Thank you, Barriss," I said. "I'll try to remember that."
She nodded, then stood. "I should get back to the dormitory. But... if you ever need someone to talk to, I'm usually in the gardens around this time."
"I'd like that," I said.
She smiled once more, then turned and walked back toward the temple, her footsteps soft against the stone path.
I sat there for a long time after she left, staring at the bioluminescent flowers and thinking about her words.
Focus on the now before it passes you by.
Maybe she was right. Maybe I'd been so focused on preventing the future that I'd forgotten to live in the present.
I closed my eyes and reached for the Force, not to meditate or to see visions, but just to feel. The warmth of the night air. The soft glow of the flowers. The distant hum of the city below.
For the first time in weeks, I let myself just... be.
Elsewhere in the temple, on a high balcony overlooking the endless cityscape of Coruscant, Master Fay stood alone.
She was ancient, far older than she looked, and her long blonde hair drifted in the breeze like moonlight. She wore simple robes of pale white, and her presence in the Force was like a calm lake, deep and still.
She'd been watching the younglings for weeks now, particularly the one called Cain.
Fay believed that she was destined to teach, so she left the Core galaxy and began roaming the Outer Rim worlds. For many centuries Fay allowed the Force to guide her to where she was needed, and as a result, was known to have resolved many conflicts, and even ended entire wars.
But a few weeks ago, she felt a powerful presence in the Force. After seeing a powerful vison in the Force of two large stars overtop Coruscant. One gold with a black shadow, and one sky blue with a silver hue. She knew she had to return to the temple. After that she had some him. Cain,
There was something about him, something that didn't quite fit. His power was undeniable, his potential vast. But beneath it, she sensed conflict in him. Fear mainly. And yet, there was also hope. Determination. A fierce desire to protect.
She heard footsteps behind her and turned to find Seris approaching, her silver hair catching the light.
"You summoned me, Master?" Seris said, bowing.
"I did not summon," Fay said gently. "I invited you. Tell me, how are your classes going, little one?"
Seris straightened, her posture perfect. "They are going well, Master. I have been staying on top of all the materials."
"Is that all?" Fay asked, her tone soft but probing. "How are you doing with your fellow younglings? Are you getting along with them well?"
Seris hesitated, and Fay saw the cracks in her carefully maintained facade. "I'm not worried about getting along with the others. I don't dislike anyone, but I'm more focused on learning."
Fay moved closer, kneeling so she was at eye level with the young Sephi. "I'm glad you are excelling in your lessons. Master Yoda tells me so from time to time." She paused, her expression gentle.
"But your heart and spirit must learn to open and connect with those around you. Otherwise, your connection to the Force will be limited."
Seris's ears twitched, and Fay could feel the frustration radiating from her. "I understand, Master. I will open myself up more to those around me."
"Thank you, Seris. That's all I ask." Fay studied her for a moment. "Tell me, how do you feel about the youngling Cain?"
Seris's expression shifted to confusion. "I don't understand what all the fuss is about him. He is strong in the Force, yes, but it's nothing the Order hasn't seen before."
"Are you jealous of his abilities?" Fay asked gently.
Seris laughed, but it sounded forced. "No, Master. If anything, I welcome the challenge. Some are calling him the second coming of Master Yoda, or even the Chosen One. But I'm not intimidated."
"Do you like him, Seris?"
The question hung in the air like a blade.
Seris's eyes widened, her cheeks flushing, her ears twitching rapidly. "Of course not, Master. What is there to like about him? I mean, I'd be lying if I said his golden eyes aren't beautiful, but I'm working to become a Jedi. We aren't allowed attachments."
Fay smiled, a knowing look in her ancient eyes. "Seris, you come from the Corellian sect of the Jedi Order. You are allowed to leave in the future, to be with anyone you want, to start a family if you choose."
Seris's blush deepened. "I have no reason to go back there, Master. I am happy here."
Fay nodded slowly. "Your grandmother would be sad to hear that. But I understand." She placed a hand on Seris's shoulder. "Thank you for your time, youngling Seris. You are free to leave if you have nothing more to say."
Seris bowed and turned to go, but Fay's voice stopped her.
"Seris?"
The girl looked back.
"Don't be afraid to open your heart," Fay said softly. "The Force flows strongest through those who allow themselves to feel."
Seris nodded, then left, her footsteps echoing in the quiet night.
Fay watched her go, then turned back to the city below. "So much like my sister," she murmured to the wind.