Expectations are a funny thing. Often we don't even realize that we have them, until reality slams into us.
Tiny objects sparkled in the sky above, as the black objects streaked across the sky. Sirens began to wail across Shilrakaen and civilians ran to shelters and basements.
The young Jedi stood on the steps of the Hall of Justice, the seat of Shilrakaen's High Council, and he could only stare in awe as the streaks set themselves alight and began to burn their way through the atmosphere. Not only did it feel nothing like he had imagined, with the sounds and emotions of the screaming civilians hitting him in wave after wave of pain, and the smell of burning metal filling the air, but his own feelings took him by surprise as well.
Perhaps, on some level, buried deep down below the dread, there had been excitement and a feeling of adventure, but any hint of that was well and truly dead.
"Let's get going," Jon said, exiting the front doors with Thayla in tow. "Teller, I need you to keep her safe."
Thayla didn't say anything, but stared at Teller with pleading eyes that said the same.
"Nothing is going to happen to Jamie, I promise."
For once, Jon didn't look suspicious. If anything, his demeanor wreaked of resignation and anxiety.
"I won't ask if you think you're ready," Thayla told Teller. "You are."
"Thank you, Master Creed."
"Stay safe and remember what I've taught you."
"Let's go!" Jon reiterated. Thayla took one more moment to hug her padawan before heading down the steps herself.
And then, Teller Vonn was left alone, suddenly feeling the weight of Centrallis on his shoulders.
