Blade of Light
Prologue
Silently, he waited. The cool, crisp autumn breeze twirled around him, softly, almost tentative. As if the very air itself was unsure of his presence. The forest floor swayed and sang with the twilight calls of a thousand creatures alien to him. The brush rustled with curiosity, as small predators darted to and fro, trying to catch a glimpse or, more likely, a whiff of him. Primitive minds focused on one thing: if this foreign presence might somehow be converted into a meal. Behind them, in the trees, larger things, more malevolent, stirred silently, minds not focused on if, but when.
He felt it all. Eyes shut, he felt all of it, the amazing, nearly overwhelming presence of these creatures in the force, connected yet separate from him, teeming with life energy all possessed, but none fully perceived. And not just the creatures – the forest itself was alive, massive plant colonies and towering vines and tress stretching so far up only the thinning air itself hindered their growth. Here, the only distinction between day and night was the temperature.
Slowly, he reached out with the force, barely extending his senses beyond his immediate area. Still more life trembled here, a nearby river lighting up the force like a beacon. Creatures flying and climbing. All of it joining together and forming a river of energy, rushing all around him. For too long, he had shut himself off from that river.
No longer
The weapon in his hand was symbolic tonight. He was not here to hunt. He was here to feel the force. He was here to let it wash him and cleanse him, purifying him in its torrent. His blade would harm nothing. But it would be a part of him, an extension of his will, and matters beyond his will. It would be a physical manifestation of his experience and training. The outward expression of everything about him that was not of the physical world.
"Luminous beings are we, not this crude matter"
Indeed.
Silently, he let his robe drop to the ground. He assumed the classical ready pose. Briefly, he let himself sense the river apart from him, feeling the creatures stalking him startle, suddenly unsure of themselves. A brief smile tugged at his lips.
Closing his eyes once again, he breathed deeply, and opened himself to the torrent. Felt it flow into every fiber of his being. Felt it mix and match his own luminosity, the power of its brightness like a white hot ember in his heart, mixing with the joy and the love and the sadness and the grief and the honor and the memories and the promise that resonated with one name at the core of his being.
Silently he whispered the word to the cool night air.
"Isabella"
In his right hand the saber blazed to life, illuminating the blackness with a brilliant green glow. And he began to move.
Half a galaxy away, on a world of duracrete and glass, a withered old man sat bolt upright in his bed.