Revan dreams through the morning hours.
It's unlike anything she's felt before. It's the Force, that very energy that pulses within her, but it slips into the dark and sinks down, down, down. It's heavy and clouded; its very presence is a stranger to her. It's sinking and it's sinking-it's asking her to come with it.
She can feel the pull of the black and the sick, ugly feeling that follows it. It begs and it begs and she wonders what it would be like to give in, to touch this dark, tangible thing surrounding her. She's alone and she's surrounded, surely she should've been prepared for this.
It's black, it's black, it's black; the Force is singing in the shadows. It reaches out to her in some violent, invasive way, this tight pull in her chest that won't let go.
No, it won't let go, but she wills it to fall away from her. This feeling can't last, it can't hold onto her when she already feels so volatile-
Revan closes her eyes, it's not a dream at all.
;;
This is how it ends:
The darkness still surrounds her, but Revan lies on her side, watching the way the light chases down the dust in her room. It's a rush of motion contrasting her stillness, and her eyes barely move as she watches the particles dance and bounce off of each other, chasing each other down.
It's starting to feel like something's chasing her down, eating her alive. The very Force pulls her apart and pushes her back together again. Again and again and again.
She doesn't even remember the last time she saw Master Kae.
They're all vague memories now, colliding like the dust in her room. There are memories of soft moments and difficult moments and all the things she had to learn-all the ways she had to stretch her mind, taking over the Force and pulling it into herself and away from herself-understanding in a way that's never felt uncomfortable. There are memories of quiet lessons kneeling on the floor of her Master's room, or out on the plains with the wind pulling on their robes, the sun pulling down the clouds in a fit of gold light.
So maybe she does remember. It still isn't enough.
And for a long time it's quiet. There are stray, distant sounds, evidence of life beyond these walls, but nothing of significance until there's a knock at her door. She hasn't slept in these early hours. Malak left shortly after their conversation dwindled into silence and her thoughts became inescapable. She watched him go with little energy, taking note of the concern in his gaze but unable to do anything about it. Helpless, she forced herself to lay down and clear her mind.
It hasn't been doing her any good.
After a second knock Revan shifts so she's at least sitting up. "Yes?" she calls out, unwilling to go and answer the door.
"It's me," comes Talvon's voice. It sounds wary and hesitant, like there could be something wrong with her or he has bad news. Either way she closes her eyes again. Doesn't answer. His voice comes again. "Rev—you should have some breakfast, at least. I'm starting to worry."
"Last time I checked I don't have a mother," she answers, and her voice has a strange sort of rawness to it. The words come out biting. "I'm fine."
Talvon doesn't answer right away, and when he does, it's with a small, "They're in the Council chambers now. If you want, we could..."
He doesn't finish the thought. Revan's head turns to white so she keeps her eyes closed, presses down to make this all go away and stop the prickling feeling behind them. The heaviness in her chest is almost too much to hold back, her body feels like she's swallowed something sharp and it's trying to cut its way back out.
The silence stretches on.
"Rev?" Talvon offers eventually, and his voice is quiet on the other side of the door.
She pulls air into her lungs until she can't anymore, letting it all out in one rush. "I'm coming," she says, and she avoids her own gaze in the mirror. She feels like winter itself, the cold clawing out of her skin, her mouth frozen, and her hands sharp and unfeeling. If she could just escape herself she would, she absolutely would.
Talvon looks surprised to see her when she opens the door. Revan meets his gaze for a moment before focusing somewhere beyond him, feeling his hand at her elbow.
"Hey," he says, but it's too soft and not like him at all. This time she looks at him and all that's there are worry lines and helplessness.
She hates it.
So she pulls her arm out of his, heading towards the cafeteria with all the easiness of someone else. She listens to the sound of his steps as he catches up to her, the soft squeak of his boots over the blue tiled floor, both of them moving through the hazy light falling in through the windows, scattering the dust.
"Revan—" he starts, but he doesn't say anything else.
"Did you sleep last night?" she asks, because she remembers leaving him in a cantina with smoke filtered air, a crowd of people, and the slight panic beneath the surface.
When she glances over he doesn't look pleased, but he seems to accept it. "Not really. I had no idea where you went, you know."
"I told you I was leaving."
"And sometimes that's not enough," he says. "You were upset and—"
Revan stamps down the emotion rising in her chest, her hands coiling and uncoiling into fists as they walk into the cafeteria. "You were what, Tal? Worried? You know I can handle myself."
"It's not a matter of handling yourself it's the fact that you were alone and upset."
"If it makes you feel any better, I was with Malak."
He huffs out a dry laugh. "That doesn't make me feel better at all, thank you."
"Well, then I don't know what else to tell you."
"Revan, come on," he says, and he pulls on her wrist, stopping the both of them in the middle of the room, surrounded by the oblivious faces of their peers swallowed by gold, lovely light. "Is this really the conversation you want to be having right now?"
Revan pulls her arm back to herself, clenching her jaw. "Yes."
He follows her to the kitchen, a frown tugging on his mouth and he's jagged, his very presence threatens to shatter apart. "Are you sure you don't want to talk about Kae? Because they're saying some really nasty stuff, Revan."
"I don't care what they're saying," she says as she goes about preparing her tea. Her fumbling hands spill a little milk on the table, she grabs a napkin to clean it up. "It doesn't matter anyway."
"Of course it matters—"
"Talvon," she interrupts. "Leave it alone, okay? I don't need you to do whatever it is you think you're doing right now. It won't help."
"I just don't get why you're acting like this isn't a big deal."
"Please, leave it alone."
"Revan."
"Fine, just—leave me alone."
Talvon shakes his head but it doesn't matter, she's walking to their table whether he's going to join her or not. Malak, Cariaga, and Nisotsa are already seated, eyeing her suspiciously with little caution or intention of hiding that they were watching her and Talvon.
"My, my, how the mighty have fallen," Nisotsa starts. "Is it true that Master Kae is a criminal?"
"Nisotsa," Cariaga says harshly, frowning at her friend.
Revan doesn't answer right away, instead clutching at her usual paint chipped mug and inhaling slowly. "Does anyone have anything useful to say?"
"Revan," Malak starts, but doesn't go anywhere with it. His eyes hesitantly lift to meet hers, and they're tired and fading in this light. Sadness washes over his features and Revan can't stomach it.
"Right," she says after a moment, and she lets her gaze drop to her tea. She should find comfort in the milky brown liquid or the familiar red paint, or even the speckled table top beneath her fingertips, but they leave her empty and flat. She's a ghost of herself, and this time the emptiness devours her, this time she's cold and alone in a warm room full of people.
Talvon takes a seat next to her and she can feel his gaze but doesn't rise to meet it. The table sits in silence for a moment and Revan hates it, feels responsible for it, needs it to disappear from it before that same ugly feeling slips under her skin again. That unrecognizable Force, that slick black feeling.
That fear.
"Has Master Kavar been assigned a Padawan yet?" she asks, and her hand unclenches from the handle of her mug when she looks up at the surprised faces of her friends. Nisotsa rolls her eyes, though, and that's what Revan was counting on.
"Some girl from the Enclave on Coruscant. They're coming here to start, apparently."
"Do you know who?" Malak asks.
Nisotsa shakes her head. "Does it matter? I hate her already."
Revan chokes out a laugh despite herself, for once grateful for Nisotsa's self-centered thinking. The conversation picks up a little after that, and carries on mostly without Revan's input, though she throws in a few quips to spare herself from the worried glances from her friends. It doesn't do much to ease the tension between them all, but it's enough to distract her, even for just a moment.
Mostly she sits and tries not to think about anything at all. Mostly she waits for enough time to pass so she can wander the hallways back to her room, where she can shut out all the noise.
Yes, the noise and the silence it can bring, all the things they're not saying by keeping it to themselves.
Is it true that Master Kae is a criminal?
Revan doesn't know, but she's afraid of what the answer might be.
;;
The next time she hears a knock, it's Vrook at the door, his face is pulled tightly into a scowl, and he doesn't say anything but he doesn't have to. Revan knows that she has to face her fate now, she can't stop any of it even if she wanted to.
"Come on," he says. His voice is gentle but stern, and she can't read his features, not that blank expression on his weary face. She can't read him through the Force, either, but can't tell if that's because she's ignoring it right now or not.
They walk side by side through the corridors, and the sun is fading into the line of the trees beyond the window, sinking the halls into shades of orange yellow, orange red, orange brilliant orange, bending in through the windows.
And then it's all blue. It's all deep, heavy blue. She's not even thinking, just letting her mind drift off, and her steps are quiet as she walks beside Vrook. It's funny because everyone seems to be in the hall, unmoving. Everyone seems to be watching her, concern painting their faces. She passes them all without a second glance until she sees Malak and Talvon sitting together outside the door to the Council chambers, both of their expressions devastated.
She smiles at them. She doesn't know why, but she does. Everything moves so fast and slow at the same time that she feels like she's dreaming. She doesn't know where the sun went and she doesn't know what's going to happen but in a way, she does. In a lot of ways it's been obvious this whole time and suddenly she feels like laughing, because what else can she do?
But she doesn't, because it's so hard to be here right now. It's so hard to be real right now as each step takes her closer to her fate. She lets her smile fall and fall and breathes, staying silently beside Vrook as he holds the door open for her. Fast and slow, she's still dreaming, she's sure.
The room is spinning with white, the lights burning out against the dark windows, against everyone's dark expressions. She's in the middle of the room and it feels like being judged-the entire Council's eyes are on her, the whole room watches her in the steady silence, and the only sound comes in distantly beyond the windows.
She watches Vrook take a seat at the only chair left empty, feeling her heart stutter into a faster beat as each council member lets the silence drag on. It drags and it drags and it drags. Revan feels like she should say something but she lets it drag too. This moment is too big-it feels too heavy, and there's nothing she can do to ease its burden.
"Revan," Master Atris starts, "it brings us no pleasure to say the things that need to be said today. As you've been told, Master Kae has been brought in for a trial. There was a...discovery that had been made that led to some disturbing conclusions."
She pauses. Revan's stomach sinks down, down, down.
Vrook clears his throat. "It came to our attention that Arren Kae had been hiding a child-her daughter, for over nine years. The fact that this has gone on unnoticed for so long is most discomforting."
"A child?" Revan interrupts, unable to help herself. Her mind races over each time Kae left her, over and over again, gone and gone and coming back each time so different, so calm and distant, but warm and motherly all at the same time.
And it makes sense now, she supposes, in some vague and terrible way.
That Kae has had a child, and has chosen that daughter over Revan countless times. But-how can Revan blame her for that?
"Yes, dear Padawan," Master Vandar explains. "As well as an affair with a Senator on Coruscant. You must understand that this deception has consequences, and as such Master Kae has been exiled from the Jedi Order."
Revan swallows, her throat thick and unwilling to move. The absolute last thing she wants is to do is fall apart in front of the Council, but her eyes are burning and this betrayal sinks deep into her lungs, choking the breath out of her.
That's when the Force moves through her chest, carrying words like a whisper through the back of her mind, you are just the first of those she'll betray.
Revan takes a deep breath, folding her shaking hands together behind her back, but it's obvious that the Council can see her distress.
It's Atris who breaks the fragile silence. "As for your position as a Padawan, we are very wary of what has been taught to you by Master Kae. You should know that we cannot proceed with your trials until we're sure that you have not been misguided or mislead in your learning."
And Revan's hands no longer shake. There's a small fire simmering in her stomach, the black of the Force leaking in and focusing her attention. That is-that's unreasonable.
"This does not mean we do not trust you, Revan," Master Vandar says. "Merely that we do not and cannot be sure that you are unaffected by your former Master. We feel that you are ready for your trials in all ways except for this. We believe we'll be able to move beyond this soon enough."
"Soon enough?" Revan argues. "If you feel as though I'm ready for my trials, then certainly any misguided teaching from Master Kae would come forth through those. I don't see why I should have to spend any unnecessary time as a Padawan if you think I'm ready to be a Knight."
Regret blooms in her chest as the Council members communicate in glances and raised eyebrows so obviously in front of her.
Atris narrows her eyes at Revan. "If you had the patience, child, you would realize that this should not delay your progression for long. In fact, Master Zhar himself has offered to continue your training and monitor your behavior until he feels certain that you are ready."
Revan focuses her attention on Master Zhar, who smiles kindly at her, his eyes unwavering. "Master Zhar already has a Padawan," she says absently.
"And I'm sure he wouldn't mind sharing," Zhar says. "Both of you are nearing the end of your training and have gotten along well in the past. It would be my pleasure to work with you."
Revan swallows down a protest, knowing somewhere underneath this insult that this is the best case scenario. She bows her head towards Zhar. "Thank you, Master."
When she looks up, Vrook is smiling weakly at her, his expression a mixture of grief and exhaustion. "We hope that the rest of your training will pass without further interruption. We are deeply sorry, Revan, for the ways in which we have failed you as a Council."
"I understand," Revan says, but the words are numb and she feels numb and her thoughts keep unraveling before she can understand them.
"You are dismissed," Atris says. "But first, we have agreed that we think it best if you do not share this information with any of your peers. Master Zhar has already agreed that Padawan Malak should be informed, but other than that this is not something to be lightly passed around. Is that clear?"
"Yes, Master," Revan says with little heat, even though she can feel it burning again in her chest. It burns and it burns and it burns.
She's not sure she wants it to stop.
"That will be all."
Revan turns immediately, with one last look between Master Vrook and Master Zhar before exiting the Council chambers, the door shutting with a heavy sound behind her.
In the hall there's silence. It's empty except for Talvon and Malak, still waiting, and all Revan can feel is the way her heart beats away in her chest, and all she can see is the way the empty light tips over the edge of the windowsills.
And...that's it. She turns her head towards the two boys, shaking it once before saying in a harsh voice, "Don't follow me."
She pushes one leg in front of the other, her body carrying her down the hall in a heavy daze. The numbness crowds her in, her breaths come in heavy and slow and the black, black, black of the Force locks her hands into fists. Who is she now? How could Kae do this to her?
The sound of the door registers before Revan even realizes that she's outside. The sun has already set, so the plains are levelled with that same empty light, touching the edges of the tall grass, ochre and brown and blowing in the breeze.
Revan chokes out a breath, her feet carry her through the fields, and the stiff edges of the grass brush against her arms.
Not now, she tells herself, feeling her eyes prickle with emotion. Please, not now.
The skies grow dark like ash, and the temperature begins to drop, but Revan tips her head back and watches the stars and the planets emerge from the dark. Places she could've gone if Kae hadn't had a family to go home to, if the Council could've only seen what was happening, or if Revan could've just realized that she wasn't the only one who was receiving Kae's love.
Because it was love, wasn't it? Sometimes soft and forgiving, other times cold and detached, but it was always felt like a mother's love to Revan.
And now it's gone for good.
By the time she reaches a clearing in the fields her hands are aching and it's fully dark. She settles onto one of the rocks, still warm from the evening sun, and pulls her knees to her chest, tipping her forehead down until she's fully withdrawn from the world around her. With her eyes closed, the disapproving faces of the Council, the worried looks of her friends, the pressure of her future-her destiny-feels very far away.
But when she reaches even further back, where she draws the Force in, it's still this dark, inked, void. It's still charred and heavy and it twists her stomach. It's a sick, churning feeling, and she shuts her eyes even tighter before she realizes-
She's angry.
She's angry and it rises up through her throat until her vision is blurred by tears. This isn't trivial frustration, or empty annoyance-things that she's experienced before. This is bone-deep, wild anger, and it feels ugly.
She trusted Master Kae. She trusted the Council.
Her body moves without much thought, she stands and reaches for a stray branch that lays not far from her. It's gnarled and broken and perfect. She snaps it in half over her knee and sets it down before looking for similar pieces. She gathers them and blba leaves that have fallen to the ground and dried under the golden sun, forming them into a small mound. She steps back before pulling off her outer robe and draping it on top.
Finally, she feels the thick, dark energy of the Force gathered around her and pulls it to her fingertips, touching the robe with one sharp pulse, and watches it ignite.
It takes off quickly, the red gold flames rise and the wind blows it towards her. It licks her skin in a blaze of light, warmth touching all her bare edges where the cool night tries to reach her. But it can't, not here. Not where she falls to her knees and blinks the smoke out of her eyes. Here, nothing can touch her.
It's a funeral pyre for the living.
Eventually it's warmth is not enough and her hands shake as she drags them up and down her bare arms. Her eyes sting and something heavy keeps a constant pressure on her chest, but she tilts her head back and stares at the stars.
And life goes on like this: Revan blinks and blinks and breathes and she's still shaking, but she was made to move on.
;;
"I'll say it again, Revan, this won't take as long as you'd imagine. Even with Arren Kae, the date of your trial was still an unknown factor. At least this way you are guaranteed that you will finish your training as it should be. Master Zhar is looking forward to working with you, you know." Vrook tells her the next day.
Revan raises a brow at him from where she's sitting on the floor of the training room. He's at the workbench again but his hands stopped working some time ago, and he's taken to sending her worried glances every few minutes or so.
It's very, very strange.
"I know," she says softly, meeting the brown-gray of his eyes before looking towards the window. It's drizzling out and the soft shadows of the blba trees sway and shake. She closes her eyes for a moment before turning back to Vrook, who's still watching her. "I know that it's the best case scenario, but that doesn't mean I'm happy that it's my scenario in the first place."
He sighs, and his jaw works as he walks across the too-brightly lit tiled floor to sit next to her. He's quiet for a long time, and she studies his profile, the way his brows come down. The planes of his cheeks and jaw are covered in stubble-unusual for the well-kept master. She takes note of the finer lines increasing around his eyes and mouth, and something comes loose in the pit of her stomach.
How much does Vrook suffer without telling anyone? Is it the Jedi way to keep things to yourself until you fray at the edges?
"You feel personally betrayed by your former master," he says quietly, and he doesn't wait for her to confirm to continue. "You are not alone in that feeling."
"But why," she starts, swallowing around the heaviness of the thought, "did this happen to me? Growing up, I've always been told about my potential, that I'm strong in the Force and that I have this...this destiny surrounding me. So why am I overlooked? Why did the Council keep Master Kae when she left so often? This has been going on for years, yet you only look into it now? Is my training worth that little to you?"
"No," he answers too quickly, and he turns his head to meet her gaze. "Revan, no one has lied to you about your potential. The entire Council can sense it, even sitting with you now...I can't begin to tell you the inner workings of the Council, but your former master deceived us. I assure you we won't be so trusting next time."
"I spoke out of line," she says softly, though some part of her doesn't agree. Outside, the wind picks up and she can hear the rustling of the trees-distant but still present. Still something to focus on aside from this emptiness that follows the anger.
There is no emotion. There is peace.
Is this peace?
There is no passion. There is serenity.
It certainly isn't serenity. She feels like she's been ripped apart and there isn't a way for the pieces to fit back together correctly. Emotion and passion and peace and serenity-how can any of this mean anything in the face of betrayal? How does one move on from this?
It's what she should say to Vrook, it's what she would say, if she wasn't worried that the Masters are watching her for any teaching Kae might've done in error. It's what she would say if she didn't instead ask, "Master Vrook, why didn't you offer to train me instead of Master Zhar? You're the only Council member without a Padawan."
"I've had my time training you, Revan, and that will not end even though you will be working with Master Zhar. Besides, most of the Council agreed that it would be easier to overcome this transition if you were working alongside Malak. He's a good influence."
"I'm pretty sure you would've said the opposite about eight years ago, Master," she says, working up a smile at the thought. Two kids always up to no good. Two kids...Force, they were just kids, and they had no idea they'd be apart for five years, no idea that he'd leave her scarred, or that nothing would be the same when he came back.
"That was your influence on him, I believe," Vrook says, standing up. His shadow moves over her and he lowers a hand to help her up as well. She buries this feeling, the one that won't let go, and takes his hand.
She brushes off her leggings, her hand automatically feeling for her lightsaber on her belt. She heads towards the door, and turns back to Vrook, who's watching her with a small smile that doesn't quite fit his tired features. She smiles back. "Thank you," she says. "For everything."
"May the Force be with you," he says in reply.
;;
Yes, the Star Forge is waiting for her, and this is how Revan an unmeasured step towards it:
The afternoon has stretched out into deeper shadows, the rain continues on and on and everything feels like it's floating. Everything feels fuzzy around the edges, as if it's all an illusion that can't seem to hold itself together. There are students in the halls but if they pay any attention to her, she doesn't notice. She keeps her gaze fixed to the floor, watching tile after tile pass until she knows she's at her room.
That's when she hears, "So I hear you're taking my Master away from me."
Her head snaps up to see Malak standing next to her door, but from this distance he doesn't look so tall. His shoulders are turned in, arms crossed over his broad chest, and though he's wearing a smirk, it doesn't hide the concern still sitting in his gaze.
"The Council seems to think it's a good idea," she answers, lifting one shoulder up. "I can't wait until you're crying to them about how much you hate it."
His smirk turns into a grin, and the sight eases something within her, draws her closer. He says, "It's like they don't know us at all."
"Not one bit."
"Do you want to get out of here?" he asks, uncrossing his arms. "I know it's been a lot, with yesterday, but I figured you wouldn't want to hang around here."
She looks at Malak, really looks at him this time. She thinks of the boy she used to know, the one who was the same height as her, who wouldn't hesitate to pull a prank or sneak out of the enclave with her, the one who'd steal moments away together, sitting in meditation or just talking endlessly. How did they never run out of things to talk about? When did he grow up? When did he start looking at her like this, this gaze that she can't name but it pins her in place.
And there's something about him. Goodness, isn't there? Her eyes trace over his browline, down to his strong jaw, and the second she glances at his lips she turns her head away, taking in the window on the other side of the wall. She draws a breath, and observes, "It's raining."
"Yes it is, Rev." His voice challenges her, and they both know that. They both know that she can't say no to it. She feels a weariness in her bones, some kind of blank blue exhaustion, the remnant of her anger still burning beneath the surface, but-
"Okay," she agrees softly. "Let's go."