This will make my arm complete. This is my defining moment in my path as a Jedi.

The thoughts twisted their way to the surface of Ferus' mind like a worm tasting the air. It was what he'd been taught to feel. It was what every Jedi felt at this moment. A lightsaber was more than a weapon. It was a symbol and guiding light for the Jedi, each as unique as the wielder. It was a beacon of self-discovery and self-declaration, revealing to the galaxy who he was inside and out. This lightsaber was his. It wasn't just a possession, even one crafted by his own hand. It was his life, its vital components as much part of him as the blood in his veins. The crystal inside had bonded to him, guided to his hand by the will of the force. Through him, the crystal would take colour, as each Jedi influenced the colour of their own crystals. This was the moment to discover his own colour, and to see what it revealed about himself.

In this moment he stood still, lightsaber hilt gripped by tense fingers, arm extended in a gesture almost like a salute. Master Tachi arched an eyebrow at him. Most padawans would have shown off by now. He took a deep breath. This moment was, if nothing else, proved basic competency. He touched the activating switch, and the blade sprang out, spilling light and purpose into his eyes.

Red as blood.

His blood pounded in his ears, fusing with the electronic hum radiating into his palm. Red light refracted on the snow like spilled drops cast off by his fingers. Almost everyone bled red. It could be anyone under his blade, under his hand.

He cut that thought away before it took root. Trying to use the colour to name who might fall to harm was pointless. Iron rich blood was common in many species. It helped to look at only facts.

Red as anger. Red as pain.

It didn't help to think these things. These were symbols, not facts, and as such he could discard them. He had to discard them; both the symbol and reality were antithesis to the Jedi. There was no anger, no pain. He was calm, calm enough to still the trembling in his hand, he was...

He was scared, and confused, and tired, and deep inside he hurt in a way he'd never hurt before. All these words were facts, and he could categorize them as such. Listing himself in terms of facts wasn't helping. He wasn't meant to feel these things, not in this moment. The Jedi had lessons even for when a youth felt confused and need of guidance: reach out with his senses. Feel the force.

His senses burned with the cold sigh of wind in his face, and the blinding glare of sunlight on ice dimming the glow of his lightsaber. In the force he saw the path of an individual snow flake from its birth in the sky, its course in the air, to its ending as it melted on his cheek. In the force he heard the gorgodons whispering their harsh lives, from the new hatchlings testing their claws on the rocks to old the grandmother moaning as she fell behind in the hunt. Neither his senses or the force showed him his own path, or his own identity.

It was all very different from what the force had shown him inside the cave. A mechanical rasp echoed as breath sucked through a respirator. A figure loomed over him, holding a lightsaber as vivid as its own body was dark. Ferus had seen the red saber as he worked, but that blade wasn't his own. That blade had only one wielder. Evil. That blade's purpose was unfit for any Jedi. Pain. Suffering. Death. Each cut into his mind as red slashes.

The rasp of callouses against his knuckles startled him out of the memory. Master Tachi folded his hand in her own, steadying his grip as she steadied him with her presence.

"Talk to me, my worried padawan."

"Crystals aren't red. They can't turn red unless..." Ferus let the words go unfinished.

Crystals only turned red when you channelled hatred. He'd never felt hate in his life... had he? His visions in the cave lingered too close to the surface of his mind. It hadn't been hate that flowed through him then, but terror. Every apprentice faced this same trial. None of them had left their crystals marked by their own fear.

"It makes me wrong."

"It makes you unique," Master Tachi corrected him.

"All Jedi are unique," Ferus recited numbly.

All Jedi may be unique, but few Jedi had a red lightsaber. The colour declared passion and desire. There could be none of these things amongst the Jedi.

There is Serenity. There is the Force.

The ancient words didn't help now. He felt the force, but not serenity, and the Jedi didn't have exclusive claim to the force. Everything he knew about this moment he'd learned by rote. He hadn't prepared for his own unique reaction. He knew nothing of his own feelings. He knew nothing of what lay ahead.

XXXXXXXXXX

"If you need me, I'll be there for you," Ferus said.

"And if I need you here with me now?" Sadness marked Master Tachi's face.

She wasn't his master now, Ferus reminded himself. She was simply Tachi, or Siri, or someone lost in between. No matter who she was then or now, he still had no answer. He couldn't stay with the Jedi Order, not even for her.

"This particular item is no longer a Jedi's weapon. It has never even been accepted as a Jedi's weapon, not by its owner. So, it's not break the rules to give this to you, just bending them." Siri Tachi slid a metal handle from her sleeve and presented it to him in a gesture almost like a salute.

Ferus stared at the lightsaber in her hand. It had once been carried by a confused child, and discarded along with childhood. "You kept it."

"Some things don't belong in the trash."

He took it from her and considered how it felt against his palm. What did she mean by handing him a lightsaber so soon after he'd given one up? He didn't know if it was an apology, or a request, or a challenge, or even an answer.

"I thought things made sense after you let me go back to Illum to harvest new crystals. A new lightsaber, a new life. Only nothing changed after all." Ferus tried to offer it back, but she refused.

He placed it carefully on the floor by her feet as he left. It wasn't his lightsaber now, any more than she was his master. A small weight left his hand, and a huge weight left his shoulders. Whatever suffering awaited him on the Jedi path was no longer his to cause.

XXXXXXXXXX

"I found this while we were looking for you in the Jedi Temple. I figure I better give it to you before I lose my memories. It must be yours, since it has your name on it."

The box Trever placed before him was a simple rectangle, marked only by his name carefully scratched into the wood.

Ferus opened the lid, and saw a lightsaber nestled within the molded interior. He picked it up and activated it, letting the blade spring out before their eyes. Red as blood.

Trever gasped and stepped back. A red blade cut through this galaxy, wielded by a black glove to cause pain and death. Red was a symbol to everyone now, not just Jedi and Sith.

"It was mine," Ferus said.

He deactivated the lightsaber and opened his hand, levitating it before them both. The casing opened under the force, and components drifted out to array for inspection.

"Crystals from the cave of Illum don't have a colour until they bond to a Jedi. When mine turned red, I thought I was seeing my own future. Maybe I was even right, but not in any way I understood. Jedi have visions when they form that bond, or at least, I did. I saw a creature with a red lightsaber. Every time I used this lightsaber, I thought that creature was me, but it wasn't. It was just where I was headed."

What was the meaning behind this colour? A warning? His fear of the visions? The pain in his future reaching through time to haunt his youth? He didn't know if any of that was even possible. There were so many things he'd never learned before leaving the Jedi Order. There were also so many things he'd learned about himself after. Red was his favourite colour, like the sunsets over Ussa.

Red meant blood. So long as he could hear his blood pounding in his ears, he was still alive. The colour of the lightsaber could tell the maker about himself, particularly, what he valued most in all the galaxy. This colour told him what he had always wanted, more than he wanted to be a Jedi, or to be unfettered, or even to be a hero. He wanted to be alive.

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Author's Notes: It isn't strictly canon that the force user determines the colour of the crystal. However, crystals can turn red if hatred is channelled through them, and can take on another colour if later purified.

Ferus Olin's lightsaber is depicted in several colours in artwork and books. In Jedi Quest: The Way of the Apprentice, he is mentioned to have a red lightsaber. I'm choosing to view this as his first lightsaber, which is later put away and replaced. In the books, Ferus never recovered his original lightsaber.