The Dark

The worn iron-sights on the barrel of Anna's blaster pistol hover in front of her squinted eyes.

"You sure about this?"

"Yes. Now hurry up, this is just a demonstration, this isn't even the-"

A bolt of blue light flies at Cal's blindfolded face as she pulls the trigger—only to be intercepted by a swing from his lightsaber.

She fires twice more, once at his chest and once at his legs, but Cal deflects the bolts with effortless twirling motions from his blade. She squeezes off another shot half out of spite, but the bolt goes wide and Cal merely shrugs out of the way. She lowers the blaster incredulously.

"Okay, you have to be cheating."

"Nope, can't see a thing, I promise."

She looses a final shot for good measure, which Cal easily sidesteps as he returns his lightsaber to his waist. Untying the blindfold, he raises an eyebrow at her and holds out the strip of fabric.

"Your turn, Padawan."

Anna's heart beats a little harder. She swallows nervously. She's been hit by stun bolts before, and she's not keen on reliving the experience.

Noticing her hesitation, Cal laughs.

"You keep the blaster for now." A cluster of pebbles floats into the air at his side at the raise of his hand. "We'll start with these."

Anna purses her lips.

It's been a week since she first managed to nudge the rock, and admittedly she's been getting better at the whole meditation thing. Though she's still not sure if she can "feel the living Force", as Cal likes to put it, it is getting easier to extend her awareness away from her body, like stretching a weird spiritual elastic band. Whatever it is, it's enough to make the rock move if she tries hard enough. Once, she even lifted it before she felt a nosebleed coming on.

Clairvoyantly dodging bullets with her eyes closed seems a pretty big step up from lifting a rock, though.

Holstering her blaster, she takes the blindfold and pulls it over her eyes.

"Here."

She peeks out from under the lip of the dark fabric and blinks at the lightsaber now under her nose. Looking up in confusion, she realizes Cal's offering it to her.

"Here… here, me?"

Cal shakes his head with a smirk.

"Yes, you. Take it."

Anna's eyes widen as she picks up the metallic rod in both hands, running a thumb over the worn rubber grip. She turns the weapon over in her hands. It's heavier than she remembers.

"Here I thought it was rigged to explode or something if anyone but you tried to turn it on," she murmurs.

"Now there's an idea." Cal's tone turns somber. "Master Topal always said this weapon was my life. I didn't really get what he meant back then." His hands close over hers. "A lightsaber so much more than just a weapon. It's a Force conduit. It speaks to you, helps you focus." The hands let go. "Go ahead, turn it on."

Anna breathes in and presses the switch.

When the blade ignites, it's like she's taken a breath of fresh air. Abruptly, everything is clearer, sharper, a splash of cold water after a long nap. She tilts the blade this way and that, the drone of the plasma seeming to vibrate through her very bones. She feels awake.

"I definitely feel something," she breathes. Cal nods.

"Good. Now put on that blindfold."

The world is thrown into pitch black as Anna lowers the fabric over her eyes.

"Alright, now what?" she asks tentatively.

At first, nothing happens.

A pebble slaps her on the arm and she almost drops the lightsaber.

"Hey! I wasn't ready!"

"You are ready. Trust in the Force."

She raises the lightsaber in front of her.

"Okay… am I supposed to think some magic words, or-" Another pebble strikes her in the stomach. "Ow!"

"Focus, Padawan. Let go of your senses."

She takes a deep breath. For a few seconds, she feels nothing but a creeping sense of awkwardness. But then there's something else, too—something tickling at her perception, a premonition, as if she's forgotten something very important. On instinct, she takes a step backward. A pebble grazes the front of her tunic.

"That's it!" Cal urges.

The premonition grows, urging her to move. Tilting the lightsaber, she's rewarded with a sputtering hiss as a pebble is intercepted by the plasma blade. A foreign instinct compels her to angle the lightsaber again, and again she blocks a pebble. Another pebble comes flying at her legs, but the lightsaber is there before it can reach her. One comes at her face, but she's already stepping aside, intercepting a third stone with a twist of her wrist.

She isn't thinking anymore—she doesn't need to. The heat of the blade drones through the air in harmony with the strange itch in her mind. She still can't see a thing, but it doesn't matter. Revelation after revelation surges through her limbs as she steps and blocks, her movements directed by pure reflex.

She laughs out loud. This is completely insane.

She doesn't know how long she spends in this trance of motion, but eventually the pebbles stop coming. Slowly, she lowers the lightsaber, her breaths coming fast and shallow. Fatigue descends like a cloud of fog. Her forearms ache from clutching the lightsaber so hard.

Another pebble hits her on the shoulder with a loud slap. She tears off the blindfold with an indignant glare.

"Aw, come on, that's not fair!"

But Cal is no longer alone.

Cere stands at his side, dressed in her usual plain outfit, her hands clasped behind her back as she regards Anna with a cool gaze. Realizing the lightsaber is still lit, Anna quickly presses the button to shut it off.

"That was impressive, Anna," Cere nods. "I haven't seen many younglings able to do that on their first lesson. Cal was right—your connection to the Force is strong."

Anna fiddles nervously with the lightsaber, leaning from foot to foot. She suspected that Cere's been keeping tabs on her lessons, of course, but this is the first time the former Jedi's actually showed up in the middle of one. Does Cere still disapprove of her training?

To her relief, Cal steps forward and takes back his weapon.

"She's definitely strong in the Force," he says, "Meditation is coming along slowly, but she's making up for it with how fast she's picking up the combat training." He glances toward Anna with a lopsided smile. "Honestly, there isn't much she can't make up for with that determination of hers."

The hint of pride in his voice has a blush creeping up her cheeks. Cere nods contemplatively, holding Anna's gaze.

"Determination is good, when directed well."

She shivers a little at the warning edge in Cere's words. Cere approaches with slow steps.

"Anna, I have something for you," she states. From the way she says it, it's something important.

Reaching inside her vest, Cere pulls out a semi-circular device made of brushed metal. Chills creep up Anna's spine as she leans in for a closer look.

That's the same lightsaber that Inquisitor was wielding back on the space station.

"I think I've held onto this long enough," Cere says, looking down at the weapon. She turns the hilt, holding the lightsaber out to Anna. "Take it. A Padawan should train with a Jedi's weapon."

Cal puts a hand on Cere's arm.

"Wait, Cere." His voice is quiet, his shoulders tense. "Are you sure about this? I mean, that thing's killed Jedi."

"And what better way to put it back into use than to help train a new Jedi?" Cere's arm doesn't waver. "You said it yourself. Anna has potential. This weapon is in far better hands with her than it is with me."

Cere presses the weapon into Anna's palm. She recoils, half expecting it to burn her skin. Instead, the metal is cool to the touch, completely smooth in contrast to the well-used roughness of Cal's lightsaber.

"Where did you get this?" Anna whispers.

"An Inquisitor," Cere answers softly. "The Second Sister. Once my Padawan."

"Your Padawan became an Inquisitor?"

Cere draws a long breath. She takes another step forward, now face to face with Anna.

"Anna, I never told you why I turned my back on the Force. I think it's time you knew.

"When the Purge started, the brutality was… unimaginable. The troops were cutting down everyone in the Jedi temple. Librarians, servants, children, it didn't matter to them. There was no mercy for anyone. I tried to protect as many younglings as I could, but I got captured. They tortured me, found out where my Padawan was hiding. Then they tortured her, turned her to the Dark Side. Made her an Inquisitor."

Cere's voice grows quieter as she speaks. There isn't a single tear in her downcast eyes, but they burn with a pain so sharp Anna can hardly breathe witnessing it.

"When they brought Trilla to me, I snapped. I wanted to kill them all. I didn't care what the consequences were. So I did. I tapped into my hatred and used the Dark Side."

Cere pauses, taking a deep breath. In that moment, she seems older than the planet.

"The Dark Side is… difficult to describe. It's addicting, that kind of power. It whispers to you, twists you into a shade of yourself. After that day, I shut myself away from the Force, vowed to never open myself up to that darkness again. But Cal needed my help."

Cere nods to herself.

"So I told myself I could hold on, that I could stay in control for one last mission. But that day broke me. I saw Trilla again. I saw her turn back to the light. Even after all those years of suffering, she was able to let go of her hate in that last moment. Then Vader cut her down right in front of me, and hate was all that was left."

Cere raises her gaze slowly.

"I was using that very lightsaber," she whispers. "If Cal hadn't been there, I would have been consumed by the dark."

Anna's gaze moves between Cere and the device in her hands. It feels a lot heavier now.

"You held onto this for all this time?" she asks quietly.

"I can't count the number of times I've been tempted to just toss it out the airlock," Cere replies with a bitter chuckle. "But that felt too much like conceding defeat. So instead, I keep it with me as a reminder of why we have to keep fighting." She raises her eyes. "Now, with you, maybe it can be something more."

Anna's thumb feels along the grip of the lightsaber until it finds where the switch is nestled into the metal. This one doesn't press down, so she tries sliding it upward instead. A blade of angry crimson leaps from the end of the hilt with a low tearing sound. It's a different sound than Cal's lightsaber—the buzzing is lower, sharper, deadlier. The crackling plasma bathes her face in raw heat.

This weapon feels alive.

She tries to extinguish the blade by sliding the switch in the other direction. Instead, a second blade shoots from the other end of the hilt as the guard snaps open into a full circle around her hand. She drops the weapon with a yelp of surprise. The blades extinguish as the lightsaber clatters to the ground.

"Whoops," she mutters shakily, bending down to pick it back up.

By some automatic mechanism, the guard has folded back into the half-circle from before. She turns it over in her hands, careful to keep her fingers away from the switch.

A lightsaber like this one killed her father. A lightsaber exactly like this one almost killed her. She swallows.

"Cere… I don't know if I can do this."

"I understand." Cere dips her head solemnly. "In that case, you will have to construct your own lightsaber."

"How do I do that?" Anna glances to Cal. "How do you even make a lightsaber?"

"In the time of the Republic, Jedi initiates were sent with Grand Master Yoda to the crystal caves of Ilum to find kyber crystals to power their weapons," Cere explains. She grimaces. "Unfortunately, Ilum is currently occupied by the Empire."

"It's doable," Cal adds quickly. "I went once to get a new crystal to fix my lightsaber, but it was a risky trip." He sighs. "I don't think it's worth going again until you're further along in your training, Anna."

Anna looks back down at the Inquisitor lightsaber in her hands.

"A lightsaber is a tool like any other, Anna," Cere says gently. "It is the intent of the wielder that makes it good or evil. You don't have to keep this one forever, but a lightsaber is part of what makes a Jedi. Training without one is like training with a hand tied behind your back."

Anna takes a deep breath.

"I guess knowing how to use the enemy's weapons can't hurt." Her voice is small.

"My thoughts exactly," Cal nods. "We have to hit back with everything we've got."

"Well…" Anna pats around the belt at her waist. "I'm gonna need a clip for this thing."

"And a practice emitter. Can't have my Padawan cutting herself in half by accident."

Anna rolls her eyes.

"Thanks for the vote of confidence, Master Kestis."

It feels like the sun never really rises on Dathomir. It's like there are only two times of day in this place: dusk and night. Anna doesn't know if she'll get the chance to get used to it. After all, it's not like she's going to be here for too much longer.

It's been three weeks since Arendelle. Though Greez insists that between the rations in storage and the food he grows in the terrarium, they can last another solid month before they have to resupply, she doubts it'll take that long before Cere finds something for them to chase. While Cal's been training Anna, Cere's been scouring the frequencies for hints of rebel movements. From the conversations she's overheard between Cere and Greez, Anna knows both the former Jedi and the Latero captain have been holding back their desires to quit this hellhole of a planet to give her more time to train. It can't be long until something too big to pass up rolls along, though.

That, or Greez gets too worried he'll catch some incurable skin condition from the red sunlight.

The Inquisitor saber bounces at her hip, reminding her of its presence with every stride. At least now she'll have more than her blaster to defend herself when the bolts start flying again. The sight of the crimson blade still makes her shudder, but as much as she doesn't want to admit it, Cere was right. The lightsaber is a beacon of cold clarity every time she ignites it in her hand. The electrostaff she was training with before was so restricting in hindsight, like she was fighting blind. She understands now why the Jedi were so feared. The Force is a most powerful ally. And deflecting blaster fire is only the tip of the iceberg.

A chill washes over her at the thought. If this is what she's capable of after so little training, how much more powerful must the Inquisitors be? The memory of the violent whirl of sabers as Cal dueled the Inquisitor in the station corridor flashes behind her eyes. Her heart sinks. How will she ever catch up with that?

A series of beeps from over her shoulder jolts her back to reality.

"What's up, BD?"

A map pops into the air in front of her. She groans, glancing around her and looking back at the map. The marker is way off the marked path. She's gotten so distracted that she's gone off the trail.

"Why didn't you say something earlier?"

Another series of beeps, this one sounding more exasperated.

"Okay, okay! I thought sarcasm was Cal's thing. Wait, can droids even be sarcastic?"

She pauses to catch her breath, leaning forward with her hands on her knees. An icy wind touches the back of her neck. She shivers. There's nothing around her but thick coils of thorned vines, the largest of them the thickness of her whole torso. She scrutinizes BD-1's map again.

"This looks like a shortcut back to the ship," she announces more confidently than she feels.

She makes for a gap in the tangled mess of alien foliage. BD-1 trills a quiet note. She can hear him looking around by the little motorized sounds beside her ear.

"Relax, we'll be back on the trail soon," she says, patting the droid on the head.

As the brambles press in from both sides, her feet slow from a jog to a cautious walk. There isn't much space at all on this path with all these vines. More and more overgrowth screens out the rust-coloured sky as she ventures deeper. Soon, the flickering light from BD-1's holoprojector is her only source of light in the gloom.

She rubs her arms, her breath pluming in puffs of white. When did it get so cold? Her head snaps toward a rustling sound from somewhere in the depths of the vines. BD-1 sinks lower behind her shoulder, letting out a quiet chirp.

"Yeah, I don't like this either," she whispers.

Her eyes flit over the map again. The trail should be right through here. Not far now. She hugs herself tightly, trying to preserve any scrap of warmth she can through her meager sleeveless tunic. Her teeth are chattering. Something's wrong. She's freezing, but it's not coming from outside. Somehow, the cold is coming from within.

The holoprojector winks out.

"BD?" she calls nervously. "A little help, BD?"

But BD-1 isn't on her shoulder anymore.

"Buddy? Where are you? This—this isn't funny!"

Silence, except the thudding of her own heart.

A sliver of red sky peeks from the gloom ahead. She stumbles toward the light, fighting the cold numbness in her legs—but something is blocking her way. She squints her eyes, trying to pierce the opaque darkness.

There's a child on the path.

"Hey little fella," she calls warily. She takes a few steps forward. "What are you doing out here?"

And that's when she knows she's gone insane, because the child looks exactly the same as her sister from her dreams.

"Anna?" the girl asks fearfully. Scratches and soot mark her pale cheeks. "Anna, you have to help me."

"Elsa?" Anna whispers incredulously.

The child rushes toward her and buries her face in Anna's stomach.

"Please, don't let me go," she sobs. "Don't let them take me!"

Anna hugs the girl close even as icy fear grips her own heart.

"What's happening?" She whips her head around frantically, but there's nothing but thorns and shadows. "Who's trying to take you?"

The cold intensifies. A voice sounds from behind her, modulated and melodic.

"Anna Arrel."

She turns slowly, keeping Elsa hidden with her body. Motes of dust drift out of the gloom. One lands on her cheek, a pinprick of ice.

No, not dust. Snow.

At first, she sees only a faint silhouette, a region of purer dark within the shadows. Then, blinding plasma erupts with a sound that's been burned into her memory forever, bathing the masked figure in blood red.

The Inquisitor.

Anna stumbles backward, fumbling for her own lightsaber with fingers too frozen to obey. Instinctively, she turns to shield Elsa, but her arms close around empty air. The girl is gone.

"Today, the last Arendellian dies," the Inquisitor intones emotionlessly.

Footsteps bear down on her like peals of thunder. She turns in time to see the Inquisitor's lightsaber raise for the killing blow. She can barely even move now. It's so cold it hurts. Looking down, she finds whorls of frost crawling down her arms and over her fingers.

The blade rips downward. She screams as red-hot pain slices through her shoulder.

She's on the ground, her face pressed into the fine red dirt. She opens her eyes to find BD-1's trapezoidal face filling her vision. The little droid lets out a meek chirp, patting the side of her face with a foot.

She blinks away the afterimages of the Inquisitor's blade, gasping for air as she looks around frantically. The darkness is gone. The cold is gone.

The Inquisitor is gone.

"Ugh, what happened?" she groans, trying to push herself up.

Pain shoots through her shoulder, so sharp it makes her eyes water. Craning her neck, she catches a glimpse of two finger-length thorns lodged into her flesh, the surrounding fabric stained black by her blood. She yanks them out with gritted teeth.

"Did you see that, BD?" she gasps, clutching her shoulder and pushing herself to her feet. "There—there was a girl, and an Inquisitor…"

Waves of pulsing heat radiate from her shoulder, worming into a pit of nausea in her stomach. Her head pounds. Those thorns were probably venomous. Everything wants to kill you on Dathomir. BD-1 clambers up her back. There's a brief sting and a familiar burning sensation before the pain dulls to a tolerable level.

She looks around one more time. Nothing but razor-wire vines and a rusty-red sky.

"So that was all in my head, huh?" she mutters under her breath. "Great. Just great."

BD-1 answers with a long series of beeps as he projects the map back into the air in front of Anna's face.

"I guess if you did see it, I wouldn't understand if you told me anyway," she says with a shaky laugh. "Let's just get back to the ship."

Jerking the lightsaber off her belt, she faces the mass of vines in her path and flicks off the safety on the newly installed practice emitters. With a sigh, she ignites the blade and starts hacking away.

"I was hoping this wouldn't start happening so soon."

Cal paces slowly up and down the lounge floor in front of her. Anna adjusts the cold pack she's been pressing to her swollen shoulder, scooting forward on the couch with a frown.

"What do you mean so soon? You knew this was going to happen?"

Cal sits down beside her on the couch.

"Do you remember what I told you the first time we came here? That dream you had? The Dark Side is very strong on Dathomir. It… messes with you."

Anna's brow furrows.

"But this wasn't a memory this time," she insists. "This felt real."

Cal folds his hands.

"Tell me what you saw again?"

Anna swallows.

"It was dark. And cold. I've never felt so cold in my life." She looks down at her hands, trying to shake the image of her fingers crawling with frost. "I saw my sister, exactly like I remembered her from my dreams. Then I saw the Inquisitor from the space station."

There's something sharper than concern in Cal's eyes as he meets her gaze.

"I had visions too, when I first came to Dathomir," he says quietly. "I saw my master. In the vision, he blamed me for his death." He lets out a dry chuckle. "It's how I broke my lightsaber, actually. I crushed it with my bare hands, can you believe it?"

Anna nods. "Cere mentioned something about a test when you tried to get inside the Nightsister temple."

Cal raises an eyebrow. "She told you about that?"

"I wanted to know more about Nightsister Merrin." Anna sheepishly brushes strands of hair behind her ear. Her hand stops mid-brush, and she drops it into her lap, clenching it into a fist. Cal has no right to make her feel ashamed about that, of all things. "The point is, I wasn't in some creepy temple, I was in the middle of a giant thorn bush. What could possibly have been testing me there?"

"The Force surrounds us," Cal answers with a dry smile. "It's always testing us." His expression darkens. "The Dark Side responds to negative emotions—fear, anger, hate. After what happened to your people, your family… well, there's plenty of things that could have triggered that Force vision."

Anna keeps staring into her lap. The feeling of little Elsa's arms around her waist won't go away. The hairs on her arms stand on end as chills run down her spine. Cal's brow furrows as her eyes go wide.

"Is something wrong?"

"Cal, back on the mountain, you said something about being able to feel that Merrin was still alive. What did you mean by that?"

"Well, as I said, the Force surrounds us." Cal takes a step back, tilting his head thoughtfully. "If you listen hard enough, it tells you things. It's like music, a big cosmic chord. If Merrin died, I'd notice the missing note."

"Would I be able to… feel if my sister was still alive through the Force?"

Cal raises an eyebrow. "Anna… is that what this is about? Do you think your sister could still be alive?"

"Yes. No. I don't know." Anna sighs. "It's just… what if that vision was a sign? What if my sister is still alive out there somewhere, alone and confused and terrified, just like I was?" The image of Elsa huddled in the corner of some dingy alleyway has her shivering.

A gentle hand touches her arm.

"If she's out there, we'll find her eventually," Cal soothes. "But we can't lose focus, Anna. I'm sorry you had to go through that. Dathomir really isn't the best place for a new Padawan."

Anna nods weakly, not trusting her voice. She starts to push herself off the couch, but Cal interrupts.

"And Anna… about Merrin." He exhales. "I think I owe you an explanation."

"Oh. Now?" She turns, surprised, but Cal isn't meeting her gaze anymore.

"It's no secret that I'm not the best Jedi," he starts with a chuckle. "I thought maybe that's a good thing. Still do, most of the time. The Jedi fell to the Sith, after all, so they had to be doing something wrong. To have a chance against the Empire, I shouldn't be flexible to avoid the same mistakes. That's the excuse I gave myself, anyway.

"I really thought Merrin and I had a chance. A Jedi shall not know love, yeah, yeah, but I was willing to pretend that line in the Code didn't exist. I liked her, she liked me, it seemed simple enough. It's not like there was anyone left around who'd slap me on the wrist for breaking the rules." He smiles ruefully. "Cere took some convincing, but eventually even she came around. I think she just wanted us to be happy."

"What happened?" Anna ventures. She watches the muscles of Cal's jaw clench.

"There's a reason that line is in the Code, Anna. I didn't see it at first, but I couldn't deny it forever. My emotions got clouded. I started losing focus whenever I saw Merrin in danger—and she was in danger a lot. It almost cost us both our lives, and not just once or twice. I had to end it. She… didn't like that."

At some point, Anna started holding her breath. She doesn't dare start breathing now.

"Some days, I wonder if she left on that mission because of me," Cal finishes, his voice so low it's barely audible.

Anna takes a single step closer. "Cal, I'm so sorry, I didn't-"

"Don't apologize." Anna sucks in a breath at the sudden sharpness Cal's words. He sighs. "I'm just sorry I can't be what you want me to be. I hope you can forgive me."

Oh-so-selfishly, her heart sinks.

"I guess we both have bigger things to worry about, anyway," she manages, trying to keep the bitterness out of her tone. She stands up again, lightsaber in hand, letting the cold pack drop to the floor with a thud. "Come on. I have a few things I want to ask about those moves you taught me yesterday."

"Okay." Cal rises slowly. There's a hint of pain in his gaze.

She's halfway to the exit when Cere's voice sounds from the cockpit.

"Cal. I think you'll want to see this."

They freeze at the same time. Cal begins making for the cockpit, shooting Anna an apologetic glance over his shoulder. After a second of hesitation, she follows.

"What's up?" Cal asks as they pass the threshold.

Greez is leaning beside the comms terminal with both sets of arms folded over his chest. Lines of glowing text scroll on screen, most of it incomprehensible. Cere's hands fly over the keys at the dashboard.

"This just came through a secure Imperial frequency," she states gravely.

The text rearranges into a table on the terminal.

"A shipping manifest?" Cal asks, leaning forward with his hands on the back of the seat.

Cere nods, giving him a meaningful look over her shoulder.

"Yes, except the goods in this case are prisoners."

Anna's eyes scan over the names on the list. It's not a long list, and it doesn't take long for her to find it. She hears the leather of Cal's glove squeak as he clenches his fist, hard.

Name: Merrin
Affiliation: Member of "Nightsister" Cult
Force Sensitive: Yes

Hop over to AO3 and check out the amazing movie poster style fanart that RinWyn sketched for this fic!