The Padawan
She's dreaming. Sometimes she can tell—the recovered memories feel strange, uncanny, like walking into a familiar room and realizing the furniture's been rearranged. Not that it helps, knowing it's a dream. It doesn't dull the experience, doesn't let her escape. She still feels the fear, the panic, the pain.
This particular dream isn't starting out so bad, though.
In the dream, she's running. The hallway is dark, lit in strips by the pale light of the twin moons streaming through the tall windows. As she dashes onward, she catches glimpses of white and purple wisps of light chasing each other in eccentric patterns across the cloudless black canvas of the night. She laughs with glee.
The sky's awake.
Soft feet pad along behind her. When she reaches the doors at the end of the hall, she glances back to see a small girl following behind her. Nervous blue eyes gaze back at her from beneath pale-blonde bangs. She and the girl are wearing matching nightgowns—the girl's a light blue, hers a deeper green.
"Anna, we're supposed to be asleep! What if Mama and Papa find us down here?"
"Come on, Elsa!" Anna whines. "I'll be quieter this time, I promise."
The other girl tries to maintain a cross expression, but has to lift a hand to her mouth to stifle a giggle.
"Fine, but we have to be quick. You have lessons tomorrow!"
Anna pouts at her sister's reminder, but quickly decides it doesn't matter. Leaping up, she grabs onto the door handle and pulls down with all her might. Still hanging from the handle, she giggles as she feels it swing open under her momentum.
The sky's awake. Tomorrow can wait.
The room on the other side is huge, with walls decorated with ornate floral patterns and a vaulted ceiling that stretches so high above them she can barely make out where it is in the darkness. The door closes behind her with a whispering creak as Elsa eases it shut.
Anna bounces on her feet, failing to stifle her laughter as it echoes through the vast ballroom.
"Do the magic, do the magic!" she whispers excitedly.
Elsa's hesitant expression finally cracks into a grin. She raises her arms to the ceiling, splaying her fingers. A gust of frigid wind stirs the air, tugging at the hem of Anna's nightgown.
The ground shudders. Anna wobbles on her feet, almost toppling.
"Whoa, Elsa!"
But her sister's smile is gone.
"That wasn't me."
Anna frowns, confused. There's a faint whistling sound coming from somewhere outside, growing louder by the second.
"Then what-"
The whistling stops. The windows shatter with a blast so deafening Anna can't even hear her own scream. Then someone's grabbing her by the armpits and pulling her toward the doors as shards of glass fall around her in a hail of knives.
"... got you, I got you, Anna…" The words are hard to understand through the ringing in her ears.
She clutches onto Elsa, tremors wracking her body. The ringing in her ears eases in time to hear the doors slam open behind them.
"Oh, thank goodness, there you are!"
"Mama?"
Anna peeks over Elsa's shoulder to find both her parents standing in the doorway.
"We have to go!" her father yells, rushing forward and crouching down beside them. He has his sword strapped across his back. Papa never carries his sword.
"What's going on, Papa?" Elsa asks in a tiny voice.
Her father's expression turns dark.
"We're under attack."
"Come on, it isn't safe!" her mother urges.
As Anna pushes herself to her feet, another tremor runs through the floor with the strength of an earthquake and the ballroom disintegrates.
She jerks awake in a sheen of cold sweat. This time, she manages to stop herself before she smacks her head into the ceiling. Seventh time's the charm, apparently. Her sheets lie in a bunched mess at the end of the mattress. Through bleary eyes, she swings her legs off the edge of the cot, trying to calm her racing heartbeat.
Elsa. How did she ever forget Elsa? They were so close…
Tears blur Anna's vision. She wishes she could tuck the dream away, keep it safe forever somewhere where the Empire didn't invade and the war never happened. Picking up Sir Jorgenbjorgen from the nightstand, she holds the tiny doll against her cheek, swallowing the lump that rises in her throat at the thought of her sister bleeding out, suffocating under a pile of rubble.
They must have escaped that ballroom, both of them. They had to have.
As if her sister surviving to be vaporized by the orbital bombardment instead is any consolation. Why didn't her mother save Elsa instead? Why was Anna the one to live?
The soft knock on the door startles her out of her thoughts. She wipes the tears from her eyes roughly.
"Come in," she rasps, voice still thick with sleep.
The door slides open to reveal Cal standing on the other side, dressed in a simple tunic and vest. BD-1 isn't with him. Anna runs a hand through her hair, resisting the urge to fidget. She hasn't talked to him since dinner yesterday.
"Morning," Cal greets, pausing in the open doorway and raising his eyebrows.
"Where are we?" Anna asks tentatively.
"We landed on Dathomir about an hour ago. Greez figured it's the best place for us to reset, plan our next move." Cal laughs. "It's kind of crazy how you manage to sleep through these things."
Anna glances around the four walls. So that's why it's so quiet. The engines are off.
"There aren't any Imperials on Dathomir? Why?"
Cal shrugs.
"There's nothing for them here. Nothing in terms of planetary resources, and the Nightsisters were almost completely wiped out during the Clone Wars."
Anna nods slowly. "So we're safe, then."
"Well, safe from the Empire, at least." Cal scratches the back of his head sheepishly. "Dathomir is a lot of things. Safe isn't exactly one of them."
He's still standing in the doorway. Anna raises an eyebrow.
"I did invite you in, you know."
Cal chuckles. He takes a few steps closer, hesitating only briefly before sitting down on the edge of the cot beside her.
"So what'd you wake me up for?" Anna asks in mock accusation.
"You were already awake," Cal states matter-of-factly. He looks down into his lap, and his expression sobers. "Actually, I came to talk to you about your training."
Anna folds and unfolds her hands. She's been putting off thinking about this. Back at the dinner table, she was so certain of her decision, but now it kind of feels like she's signed up for some mystery program without reading the waiver. Funny how sleep can change your perspective.
"So… I'm your Padawan now, huh?" she says slowly. "What does that mean, exactly?"
"It means it's my job to train you in the ways of the Jedi."
"Wait, I thought you were going to teach me to use the Force." Anna's eyes widen a little. "I wasn't signing up to become a Jedi."
Cal shakes his head.
"Like Cere said, the Force is dangerous. It's easy to fall to the Dark Side if you're not careful. The Jedi path is the only way I know to keep you from slipping." A teasing glint returns to his eyes. "If it makes you feel better, I wouldn't worry too much about the label. It's not like the Empire can kill you any dead-er because of it."
But Anna's frown only deepens.
"You guys keep talking about this Dark Side of the Force. What is that? What happens if I 'fall'?" She makes air-quotes.
Cal is quiet for a moment.
"The Dark Side is what we call drawing power from the Force by tapping into your passion and hate. It becomes addictive, corrupting. I remember Master Yoda said anyone who starts down that path is destined to become an agent of evil."
Anna's eyebrows come together as Cal's words fully sink in. "Are you saying using the Force can… change who I am?"
"The Dark Side promises power without discipline. That's the kind of power that makes you lose yourself. The kind of power that consumes you." Cal's tone is grave, his eyes hardening as he raises them to meet hers. "There's a reason there's so many… restrictions in the Jedi Code. No fear. No anger. No attachment. Anything that can distract you from the path is a slippery slope to the Dark Side." Cal sighs. "I know it all sounds hoagey when I say it now, but the Jedi path is the only one I know. If I'm going to teach you to use the Force, you have to trust me. Are you sure you still want to do this?"
The somber, matter-of-fact tone of Cal's voice doesn't sit right with Anna. Hot frustration surges in her chest, threatening to force its way out through her mouth. She wants so badly to point out Cal's hypocrisy, to demand what right he has to ask these things of her when he was so clearly willing to break his own Code with Merrin.
What is she to him, at this point? Does he even care?
"Anna?" There's a hint of concern now, but she refuses to meet his gaze.
Is she sure about this? Of course she isn't sure. She isn't even sure who she is right now. Thought of some invisible power twisting and corrupting her mind is absolutely terrifying. And she definitely isn't sure that she wants to commit herself to this "Jedi path" and all its rules.
But is there any other way? It's not like she can go back and ask Papa to teach her to use her powers. Arendelle is gone. Cal is all she has now. She sets her jaw and folds her arms, trying to ignore the way her heart aches at the thought.
This is bigger than her. This is bigger than both of them.
"When do I start?" Her voice is almost a whisper.
Cal holds her gaze for a moment before nodding. He rises to his feet.
"Meet me outside in fifteen minutes, Padawan."
The title settles in Anna's chest with the gravity of a star as Cal makes for the exit.
"Am I supposed to call you Master Kestis now?" she calls halfheartedly.
"That is the tradition," Cal answers over his shoulder. The door slides shut behind him.
She looks back down at her hands. She's still holding Sir Jorgenbjorgen, the doll's mismatched button eyes gazing blindly up at her above a tattered smile. Giving it a soft kiss, she places it back on the nightstand and begins pulling her hair into a ponytail.
Cal makes her run for ten kilometers.
"You were the one who said this place isn't safe. Aren't there like, poisonous plants and carnivorous beasts everywhere?" she asked initially, to which Cal simply replied, "Stay on the trail and don't pick a fight with anything that looks like it could hit back."
Great.
To be fair, she doesn't know what else she could have expected from the first day of training. Secretly, she's glad for the chance to clear her head. Plus, he let her take BD-1.
It's still dark when she leaves the Mantis. The red Dathomirian sun crests low over the horizon, providing only a small semblance of illumination over the tangles of razor-wire vines and strange fungal bulbs spilling from the edges of the cracked stone path. Every so often she catches the glint of yellow eyes deep within the brambles, leering out at her as she passes by. That always motivates her to run just a little faster.
"How much longer BD?" she gasps after the ship is long out of sight.
She narrowly avoids twisting her ankle as she leaps over a crevasse. The droid chirps something over her shoulder, flashing a map of her route into the air in front of her nose. She really needs to figure out droid-speak at some point.
"Five more kilometers!" she groans as her eyes gloss over the hologram. "How is this… only halfway?"
BD-1 trills encouragingly, shifting slightly on her back. The feeling of the droid's feet pressing softly into her shoulder is comforting. All those years curled up in dark cargo holds would have been a lot more bearable with this little guy around.
"Where do I go now, BD? Do I turn back?"
BD-1 chirps a negative-sounding response. The yellow path on the map grows to extend in a loop leading back to the Mantis. Anna takes her hands off her knees, wiping sweat from her brow.
"Alrighty, you know this place better than I do."
Stone turns to dusty red soil beneath her feet as she directs her aching legs down a narrower path. The early morning air is frigid as it meets the skin of her bare arms. She's wearing one of the sleeveless tunics she found in the dresser. Merrin's. She clenches her teeth.
The kiss was four days ago. Cal hasn't said a word about it since, hasn't even acknowledged it. On the surface, it's like nothing ever happened—but she sees the way he hesitates when he catches her eye, the nervous tics that sometimes emerge when he gets too close to her. She knows it's on his mind, too. The silence is infuriating.
Her toes slam into a stone jutting from the path and she stumbles, barely righting herself before she topples into the nearest tangle of thorns. Something rustles off in the foliage and her heart skips a beat. She tries to get a better look, but there's nothing but shadows.
She takes a deep breath. Focus, Anna.
Her legs feel like lead pipes by the time the ship comes back into view, but she manages to make it back up the hill without tripping again. Cresting the small incline up to the plateau where the Mantis is landed, she finds Cal standing with his hands behind his back, exactly where she left him.
"Okay, what's next?" she pants, leaning forward with her hands on her thighs to catch her breath. "Pull-ups? Jumping jacks?" BD-1 hops off her shoulder, patting her leg with an encouraging chirp.
Cal shakes his head, maintaining his impassive expression.
"Meditation, actually. The run was to clear your head."
He walks a few steps out from the ship before kneeling down with both knees on the sandstone. Closing his eyes, he gestures to the spot on the ground in front of him. Anna looks around awkwardly.
"Um, am I supposed to be facing you, or facing away, or…?"
Cal's eyes remain closed, but his face cracks in a slight smile. "Facing me is fine."
Anna kneels down. The edges of the sandstone dig into her knees through the thin fabric of her pants. She struggles to match Cal's straight-backed posture as she continues to gasp for air. Now that she's stopped, sweat is soaking through her tunic despite the chill of the early morning.
"Can I have a quick drink of water, or something?"
"It is time for instruction. Please address me properly."
"Wait, you were serious about the Master Kestis thing?" Anna asks incredulously. It's hard not to burst out laughing at Cal's sudden formality.
Cal sighs, opening his eyes. "Anna, help me out here." Anna notices a flicker of nervousness in his expression.
"You haven't done this before, have you?" she asks quietly.
Cal sighs, his eyes downcast.
"I was still a Padawan myself when the Purge happened. Cere knighted me on the Mantis." His gaze sharpens with resolve. "But Cere can't teach you, not anymore. It's up to me. So please, it's Master Kestis while I'm teaching."
His mouth draws to a stiff line as the smile falls from his eyes. In an instant, the nervous boy is gone, replaced by the hardened warrior she met on Sakiya. She finds herself nodding.
"Yes, Master Kestis."
Cal inclines his head. "Good. Now, close your eyes…"
Anna is disastrously bad at meditating.
She gets up every day at the crack of dawn to repeat the ritual of jogging and attempted meditation. Frankly, she's not yet used to waking up on a consistent schedule, but BD-1 is too cute an alarm clock for her to get mad at.
It's not that Cal's instructions are particularly complicated. Kneel down, close her eyes, and pay attention to her senses. Should be a cinch—if only her senses weren't so irritating. She's used to spending entire days motionless from her time as a stowaway, but then there was always noise, vibration, the constant danger of being sucked out a malfunctioning airlock to keep her on her toes. Here, everything is eerily silent, letting every ache, tingle, and itch creep out to torment her in the darkness behind her eyelids. It would almost be funny if it wasn't so frustrating.
On the third day, Cal places a flat stone on the ground in front of her.
"Maybe this will help you focus."
Anna lifts an eyebrow. "What am I supposed to do with this?"
"Close your eyes, try to see the stone in your mind." Cal's mouth twitches with a smile. "Then try to lift it."
She tries for hours that day. She can't get it to budge. The next day is no better, nor the next.
"If it makes you feel any better, most of the younglings back at the temple hated meditation class, too," Cal reassures her on the fifth day.
"I am not a youngling."
"Never said you were!" His mischievous grin says otherwise.
Maybe this Jedi path isn't as infallible as Cal thinks. These lessons themselves are probably a path to the Dark Side just from how ridiculously infuriating they are.
Thankfully, it's not all meditation. Unfortunately, it's not all meditation, not by a long shot.
Cal drives her to train ceaselessly. When she's not running, she's doing push-ups, or hand-stands, or squatting spent ion cells in the engine room.
"Cal… I thought… I was… being trained… to use the Force?"
The crate-sized cell crashes to the floor as Anna collapses onto the wall, panting heavily. Cal crosses his arms.
"The Force won't do you any good in a fight if your body can't keep up. And that's Master Kestis to you."
She catches the hint of a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth and rolls her eyes, hiding a smile of her own.
Honestly, she'd probably be complaining a lot more if Cal wasn't doing the exercises with her. As it stands, well… she knew he was fit before—she's seen the man scale buildings with nothing but his bare hands—but watching him do chin-ups in a thin, sweat-soaked shirt is an entirely different experience. It's really hard to not stare. Or at least not get caught staring.
Has she always felt this way toward him? It's almost as if the kiss flipped some switch in her brain.
Cal still hasn't said anything about the kiss, and at this point a big part of her hopes it'll stay that way forever. Acknowledging it would only complicate things. The rest of her doesn't care. The rest of her wants to kiss him again until he starts kissing her back.
Life is hard.
On the seventh morning, she hears the sound of the ship doors sliding open behind her as she kneels with her eyes closed on the plateau. Turning around, she sees Cal emerge from the Mantis carrying a long staff made of black steel. The sun is high enough now to bathe the Mantis's silvery hull in dazzling crimson. Turning her attention from the stone in front of her, she pushes herself to her feet.
"Master Kestis, don't tell me you're gonna make me balance on that thing," she quips jokingly.
Cal throws the staff at her in reply. Anna snatches it out of the air, scrutinizing the device. Despite its bulky-looking ends, it's surprisingly light.
"What is it?"
"An electrostaff. Picked it off a Purge Trooper a while back. We've got a few more in the storage unit." Cal gestures to the center of the staff. There's a switch there, almost invisible against the dark metal. "Go on, give it a try."
Anna slides the switch into the on position, and the shaft begins to vibrate. Abruptly, arcs of electricity spit from the bulbs at the ends of the staff. She drops it with a yelp.
"The only parts that hurt are the ends, I promise," Cal says with a laugh.
He raises his hand and the staff floats back into the air in front of Anna. She picks it back up hesitantly, half-expecting the electricity to leap onto her and cook her into a well-done Arendellian steak. When she remains decidedly not electrocuted, she breathes a sigh of relief and gives the staff a few practice swings.
"Are you gonna teach me to use this?" Anna asks. Excitement tickles her chest.
Cal nods. "Can't rely on your blaster all the time, especially not against another Force user."
Anna absently rubs the raised patch of skin where her own blaster bolt grazed her shoulder after the Inquisitor sent it back at her. She'll need new tricks if she goes up against the likes of her again, that's for sure.
"Training with a staff is useful for learning all kinds of melee combat, especially swords," Cal continues. "And since you've clearly been itching for action, there's another useful thing with that particular staff—it blocks lightsabers."
Before Anna has a chance to fully process the words, Cal draws his weapon from his hip and ignites the blade in the same motion. Anna staggers backward in surprise.
"Wait, what are you-"
"Trial by fire, Padawan," Cal states. He advances.
Anna barely has time to raise the staff as the plasma blade buzzes down at her, striking the shaft just above her hand with a burst of sparks and lightning. She tries to back away, but Cal presses forward just as fast. He jabs toward her stomach and she leaps to the side, breath coming fast and shallow as she feels the heat of the blade. The sight of that same green lightsaber piercing clean through the back of the Purge Trooper on the space station flashes in her memory.
She's gotten into her fair share of back-alley scraps, but she's always been better at running away than standing her ground. Now, there's nowhere to run. She bats aside another swing, desperately searching Cal's rigid expression for some hint that this is just another joke. She finds none. She blocks another thrust, another swing. The staff feels huge and unwieldy in her hands. The muscles of her shoulders are already screaming in fatigue.
She's losing.
An image rises through the panic. A dark shadow bears down on her father as she watches from over her mother's shoulder. Suddenly, Cal's blade isn't green, but red.
A surge of strength courses through her body. She narrows her eyes, gripping the electrostaff until her knuckles turn white. As Cal pivots for another swing, Anna reverses her footsteps and charges into him, leveling the staff like a spear. Cal's eyes widen slightly in surprise and she feels a victorious thrill.
The feeling is short-lived.
Cal takes a single step backward, dodging Anna's stab with almost casual ease. A boot meets the small of her back, sending her sprawling forward onto the floor. The staff clatters out of her hands, sputtering as it scores electrical burns into the stone where it lands. She rolls onto her back in time to see the lightsaber swinging down at her with deadly speed. She screws her eyes shut.
The blazing green blade meets the exposed strip of skin between her tunic and her waist, but it doesn't hurt nearly as much as she expects getting cut in half is supposed to feel. She opens one eye to find the end of the lightsaber pressing a dimple into her stomach. It feels… uncomfortably hot.
Is the blade dimmer than usual?
"What the…" she sputters.
"You lose," Cal announces with a wry twist of his mouth.
The lightsaber extinguishes with a hiss. Anna continues to stare incredulously up at him.
"Oh, don't look at me like that." Cal twists the lightsaber apart, holding out one of the halves. "It's got a practice emitter on. Cere would kill me if I cut my Padawan in half during the first combat lesson."
Anna scowls, pushing herself quickly to her feet. Come to think of it, his lightsaber did look different from usual. She should have known.
"You were testing me," she huffs, still shaking from the adrenaline rush.
"Guilty as charged."
"Well? How did I do?" She brushes a stray lock of hair out of her face.
Cal clips the lightsaber back onto his belt before putting his hands on his waist.
"Let's start with the basics, shall we?"
The dreams come less frequently now, but tonight, she dreams again.
Snow is thick in the air. The wind is cold, cutting through her winter jacket in icy needles. Above her, three towers of glimmering blue and silver reach toward the sky, the smaller outer structures giving way to a single central spire that disappears as it pierces the low clouds.
Unfortunately, the beauty of the scene is largely lost on her when an enormous beast of ice and rage explodes from a snowbank to her right.
She shrinks back instinctively, falling flat on her back and letting out a squeak of fear. The beast lumbers forward, glowering down at her with empty, soulless pits where its eyes should be. Its gaping maw opens to let out a deafening roar that shakes her bones.
Footsteps crunch over the snow. A broad-shouldered man dashes forward between her and the creature, his hands raised placatingly.
"Hey, hey there, Marshmallow! Calm down, it's just me."
The beast turns its attention to the dark-skinned man, and for an instant Anna's convinced it's going to pick him up and break him in half. Instead, it lets out a huff of wintry air has the man shielding his face.
Enter.
The creature plods back to stand imposingly beside the gates to the Temple of Ice.
She pushes herself shakily to her feet, eyes still riveted to the terrifying beast.
"Mattias, did… did it just talk?" she whispers.
The man named Mattias turns back with a smile, extending a hand down to her. His hair and eyebrows are glazed with a coat of glimmering frost.
"You heard it, too? Good, that's very good."
Taking her hand, Mattias guides her toward the gates, gently brushing snow off her shoulders with his other hand.
"Mattias, what is that thing?" she whispers, stealing nervous glances at the snow-beast as they draw closer to the arched doors of frosted ice. The monster is still as a statue, completely ignoring their presence—for now.
"Marshmallow is an Elemental Guardian. He's a kind of manifestation of the water element. The guardians don't talk like we do, but they can communicate through Ahtohallan itself." Mattias pats her on the shoulder. "Not everyone can hear them without training, but those who can are said to have extraordinary potential. That means you, fireball."
He winks and she giggles. Suddenly, "Marshmallow" seems a lot less scary.
The temple gates are right in front of them now, fractal edges gleaming beneath the smooth crystal surface. Mattias places a large palm in the center of the radiating patterns and the doors swing open with a resonating boom, revealing the vast chamber of black ice beyond. Light from the sky above filters down through the translucent ceiling, bathing the interior in a cool blue.
As she walks through the doorway, everything becomes eerily silent. She whirls back toward the still-open doors, watching the blizzard continue to swirl beyond the threshold without so much as a whisper of wind slipping in.
"This way," Mattias calls from a few steps ahead. His voice booms in the empty chamber. "Not much further now."
She rushes to catch up—only to slip and sprawl forward onto the slick floor at Mattias's feet. He stoops down to help her up with a chuckle. Pouting, Anna rubs her bruised knee.
"Why did Papa want me to come up here, anyway?"
Mattias gestures to the icy pillars surrounding them.
"These temples are places of power. They were built by the first Arendellians at natural sites where the connection with the elements is strongest." He crouches down, his large hands dwarfing hers as he takes them gently. "This is where your sister found her element, when she was not much younger than you are now."
That part makes perfect sense to Anna. Elsa always seemed to remember lessons better than her, figure things out faster than her—of course her sister would find her powers sooner. But now, finally, it's Anna's turn.
"How do I do it? Is there a puzzle? I love puzzles!"
The corners of Mattias's eyes crinkle in a smile.
"It's kind of a puzzle, but not the kind you can solve with your hands."
He rises to his feet again, guiding her by the hand across the rest of the chamber. The quiet of the temple presses on her ears like cotton balls.
"Why is it so quiet?" she whispers. "Feels like a library."
"So it's easier to listen," Mattias says simply.
They reach the end of the chamber. A staircase made of black ice slabs rises up the wall, leading toward another set of doors much smaller than those at the entrance. The steps are taller than is comfortable for her short legs, and she has to clamber up with the help of her hands. The ice chills her fingers even through her gloves.
"Here we are," Mattias announces, stopping at the top of the stairs.
Anna gazes up at the closed doors. A four-pointed star gleams from the center, made up of diamond-shaped symbols carved beneath the surface of the ice. She's seen those symbols before, etched into the blade of Papa's sword.
Mattias reaches down and pats her on the shoulder. "Go on, open it."
Anna steps forward, placing one hand on either door. She pushes with all her might, grunting with exertion, but they're as unforgiving as solid stone. She looks back up at Mattias with a frown.
"They're locked!"
"A puzzle for you, then." Mattias winks.
Her frown deepens in confusion. Before she can ask anything else, a sound cuts through the still air—the same clear hum she heard from outside. Suddenly, there's a pressure in her mind. A presence.
She closes her eyes. She can still see the door outlined in quicksilver in the darkness behind her eyelids. There's something else too. A knot. A lock. In her mind, she tugs on the string until it unravels. Then she pushes on the doors again.
A low boom resonates through the chamber. She opens her eyes to find the real doors splitting apart on silent hinges before her raised hand.
The next morning, the rock moves.