Re: Star Wars

The morning after the dream, the Temple felt different.

Not because the halls had changed—but because Eli had.

He walked in silence through the same archways, the same sunlit corridors carved from gold-veined stone. The same statues of ancient Jedi lined the walls. The same calm voices murmured lessons. But everything had taken on a subtle edge.

He couldn't shake the memory of fire.

He had barely slept. The nightmare still clawed at his thoughts—the smoke, the screams, the blue saber that turned red. The hooded figure. The children.

None of it made sense.

Except it did. Somewhere deep inside, it did.

He knew it wasn't just a dream.

But he said nothing.

He was Eli Kaen now. Whatever came before… was dust. Fiction, maybe. From a life that had faded like the end of a movie. But the weight of those stories had followed him here, half-forgotten, half-real.

The Temple bell chimed.

"Clan Heliost," called a calm voice, "assemble in the sparring chamber."

Eli blinked and hurried after the others.

The sparring chamber buzzed with energy as the younglings of Clan Heliost formed neat rows. Tall windows spilled morning light across the stone floor, while racks of practice sabers lined the walls.

Eli took his place among them, quiet and alert.

A tall Togruta Knight paced before the class, her montrals casting long shadows.

"Form I—Shii-Cho," she said, voice clipped but calm. "You've all practiced the basic stances. Today, you will apply them in motion. Remember: balance, awareness, control."

The Knight's name was Master Avenya. She didn't raise her voice. She didn't need to. Her presence commanded attention.

Eli bowed when his name was called, paired with a boy named Ien—narrow-faced, focused, a year older perhaps. They activated their training sabers, the familiar hum igniting in unison.

Eli's fingers flexed on the hilt. His body knew what to do. The motions came instinctively, as if drawn from muscle memory—or was it something else?

I've seen this before…

They began.

Strike. Parry. Step. Reset.

Over and over, the motions flowed—but not slow. Not cautious.

Ien came in with a wide arc.

Eli pivoted fast—too fast—and caught the blow in a diagonal slash that knocked the saber from Ien's hands and sent him sprawling to the floor.

Gasps rang out. Someone muttered, "Whoa…"

Ien sat up, rubbing his shoulder, blinking in shock.

Eli stood frozen, saber lowered, breath caught in his throat.

Master Avenya approached without hurry. Her eyes scanned both of them.

"No injuries?" she asked.

Ien shook his head.

Her gaze settled on Eli. "You anticipated a move that hadn't started."

"I… got lucky," he said, barely above a whisper.

Master Avenya tilted her head. "Luck doesn't leave bruises."

Eli bowed quickly. "I'm sorry, Master."

She studied him another moment, then nodded to the assistant Padawan and moved on.

No reprimand. But no praise either.

The rest of the drill passed in silence.

That afternoon, Eli sat alone in the Archive's outer reading circle, surrounded by ancient texts and the soft flicker of holographic light. Other younglings clustered together in small study groups, whispering about assignments or laughing over levitation exercises.

He didn't join them.

He thumbed through a scroll on saber forms, barely registering the words.

His hands still tingled from the morning match.

It hadn't been luck. He knew that. His body had reacted before Ien had even fully moved. Not with aggression—but with experience. The kind of experience a child shouldn't have.

He didn't understand the how—but he understood the feeling.

He'd played these stories once, hadn't he? Games. Movies. Shows. Hours spent immersed in a galaxy far, far away. Fiction. Fantasy.

So why did it feel real now?

He didn't know if the Force had brought him here or if it had been something else entirely.

But it wasn't a game anymore.

Night came quietly.

The dormitory lights dimmed as dozens of younglings curled under their blankets. The city outside pulsed with golden light through the high windows. Eli lay in his bunk, eyes open, heart racing.

The dream returned.

He stood on a landing platform drenched in smoke. The air stank of blasterfire and scorched durasteel.

In the distance, a Temple burned.

Storms rolled above. The sky was dark.

A squad of white-armored soldiers marched forward, rifles raised. A Jedi stood in their path—tall, calm, blue saber ignited.

And then—

Shots rang out.

The Jedi fell.

A scream broke through the fire.

He looked down and saw his own hands—older, scarred.

Holding a lightsaber.

Blue.

And then—

Red.

His hands trembled.

"No… no, this isn't—"

He sat bolt upright in bed, breath ragged.

His palms were slick with sweat. His heart drummed wildly in his chest.

No one else stirred.

Slowly, he slipped from the bed, feet silent on the cool stone floor, and made his way to the open balcony.

The wind was cool against his face. Coruscant spread out below—endless towers, flowing sky traffic, the hum of civilization too vast to measure.

He gripped the railing tight.

He didn't know what the vision meant. Not fully. Was it warning? Memory? A trick of the mind?

He wasn't sure anymore.

But he knew one thing for certain.

It felt real.

"You keep ending up out here."

Eli turned slightly as Niyala approached. The Twi'lek wrapped her arms around herself, lekku twitching from the wind.

She didn't look sleepy. Just thoughtful.

"You okay?" she asked.

He nodded once.

"You sure? 'Cause I saw that sparring match. You moved like a Knight. Then disappeared all day."

Eli looked back at the skyline.

"I was just… thinking."

She didn't press.

"Once," she said, "I got so lost in the Temple I ended up in the furnace control levels. Thought I was going to get melted."

Eli glanced at her, and despite himself, a tiny smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.

"What happened?"

"Security droid escorted me back," she said with a shrug. "It gave me a lecture about restricted zones. I was five. I cried for like an hour."

He chuckled softly.

"I keep a data crystal under my pillow now," she added. "Makes me feel like I've got a piece of the Temple to hold onto when things feel… weird."

Eli didn't say anything.

But he was listening.

"I don't know what's bothering you," Niyala said, a little more gently, "but… if you ever want to talk, I won't tell anyone. I'm good at keeping things to myself."

He nodded. "Thanks."

She gave him a small smile, then wandered back inside.

Eli stayed a while longer, wind stirring his robe as the stars faded into the oncoming dawn.

He didn't have answers.

Not yet.