Prologue
Coruscant 3964 BBY
Raehla
"Raehla."
Raehla sprint through the open field, arms spread wide. The length of the weeds was tall enough to reach her knees; the speed of the runner, enough to turn them into thin blades, all swiftly scratching the surface of her porcelain skin. After a while it was only the murmur of their whooshing that alleviated their sting. She could feel the ground beneath her feet grow fresher, and the farther she ran, the muddier her toes would get. She knew she had to be dreaming, because she could see with both of her eyes.
"Raehla." He'd called again, more clearly.
"Master?" She replied aloud, burying her ankles deep into the mud. Raehla turned and reconfirmed her previous suspicion: she was alone in the dark. Where exactly, she couldn't have been expected to know. But it wasn't Althir, no. That much was certain. In her dreams she would always picture it full of sand, and dirt, and then blood; which was curious, because she remembered her home world very clearly, and her home world was green. Or at least it had been. Only the mandalorians could know now.
"Taka'dehj." The voice was too strict to be Nassow's.
This time she opened her eyes, but only one of them saw the walls that closed up about her. It was a routine morning adjustment, but one so uncomfortable, that twelve years hadn't been enough for her to ease into it.
Her first impulse had been to sit up straight in a panic. She was late, wasn't she. But once she caught glimpse of the window, her face didn't take long to melt her initial horror into the most pained of expressions, while a dramatic fall to the mattress stressed her distaste for the unwelcome surprise.
"What is it? What do you want?" She murmured as she hid her face beneath the covers, turning her back on Tekk.
"They're calling for you."
Raehla didn't respond. She was busy trying to think about the plains she'd dreamt of until Tansa woke her up; her memory of them was slipping off. She tried to recall the gold of weeds, the crash of wind against her face, the cold in her feet. But it was pointless. Retaining a fistful of sand would have been easier a task.
"Raehla, the Council has summoned you. You have to wake up."
Raehla opened her eyes again and turned to study Tekk's face: it was cold as marble. There was nothing particularly new about that; Tansa Tekk's face had always looked grim around Raehla.
She sat on the bed again.
"The Council? What is it?" She rubbed her right eye, as if hoping further tampering would wake it from its years long sleep.
"Blast, they didn't even think you'd be here!"
"What are you babbling about?"
Tansa sighed and grabbed her softly by the shoulders. This unexpected form of closeness had ceased to exist years ago between them. That it should make an appearance now showed that which Tansa had fought hard to conceal for the past three years: that she still worried about her.
"Raehla..."
Raehla stood up with a clear intent to match the urgency of the situation, and yet an even clearer intent to lose herself from the frail grasp of Tekk.
"They've be waiting for you." She warned before leaving.
Raehla paid her no mind and hurried into her robes, trying hard not to undo yesterday's braid: how it had survived the night in the first place was a mystery that would have to wait.
When she opened to door to help herself out, she found Atris waiting across the other side. Her face was as stern as ever, but she could tell that her presence there had unchained a series of reactions behind the eyes of the Jedi Master.