This is where the fun begins.

We walked the dark trail down the mountain in total silence. The moon hung above, framed by the stars dotted around the night sky, providing the barest hints of light. Thalia led from the front with her flashlight lighting the way. Cirinis and I walked behind her side by side.

Our discussion had been cut short when Cirinis said she needed to get back to her companions at the Falling Star and that we would finish our talk there. She had said next to nothing since then, only asking that I walk beside her on the trip down the Lord's Hand.

She was conflicted, that was obvious, but unlike everyone else in this city I wasn't able to discern much more than that. I'd never met another Force-Sensitive so I wasn't entirely sure, but it seemed that someone's connection and mastery over the Force directly affected how resilient they were to being manipulated by other Force-Users.

That was the only explanation I could come up with for why I wasn't able to read Cirinis as easily as others. Originally I'd believed that age, size and mental strength were what decided the difficulty of affecting something through the Force, but there was more to it than that, I saw that now. It was why the parts of my lightsaber were so easy to lift, but put it together with the crystal inside and suddenly it felt three times heavier.

Presence in the Force was its own type of weight, one that was just as much a consideration as solid matter and mental fortitude were. I'd lifted rocks that weighed more than Cirinis did months ago, but I had the feeling that I wouldn't so much as be able to touch her with the Force. I could feel her mastery and strength as sure as the wind on my face, and I knew it would take years of training before I even approached her level of skill. I was only able to even feel her hesitation because she wasn't making any conscious effort to hide her emotions right then.

Knowing this, though, didn't help me understand what was bothering her. Even then I doubted it was something I could truly help with, especially if I was the one causing the issues, even indirectly.

I wasn't proud of it, but all I could do was leave Cirinis to her thoughts and have faith that she'd figure it out. Thalia had told me once that doing nothing was the hardest thing for people like us, who only wanted to help people - but sometimes it was the only thing we could do.

We continued on for nearly fifteen minutes, the silence only being broken when Thalia turned and asked how I was holding up every now and then. I was perfectly fine - I stayed up to the early hours of the morning meditating most days and I'd never had any issues, this was no big deal. Then again she was my sister so she was always going to worry, and the same went the other way round.

Family mattered like that.

But as we reached the bottom section of the path that put us at equal level with the top of Remnant's wall, the Jedi stopped and sat at the lip of a step. I stopped with her though I kept on my feet, mainly because I had no clue what she was doing.

"Hey, what's the hold up?" Thalia asked and turned, shining the torch back towards us. I didn't answer, instead looking upon Cirinis' now brightly lit form. She had her legs crossed in a similar way to what I did when I meditated, but she wasn't looking at either of us. Her gaze was fixed on the top of the walls where, had it been day she'd have just been able to see over the top of the walls and into the land beyond. Instead, it looked as if she were simply gazing off into the night.

After a moment her eyes met mine and she patted the dirt next to her on the left. With a gentle smile she spoke: "Sit with me for a moment." I sat down and stretched my legs a bit, brushing long strands of white hair out of my eyes. I looked out over Remnant, seeing the dimly lit streets of the city below.

There were never many people out at this time of night - not because of any curfew or anything, but rather that night on this planet was a dangerous time to be outside, even within the relative safety of Remnant. It wasn't dangerous, per se, it was more of a cultural thing. Even then, I could sense through the Force that some people were still out and about right then, but I wasn't able to see more at this distance.

"Caelum." Cirinis called, drawing me away from my thoughts, and I looked back to her. She was watching me softly with those pale blue eyes, but it was almost like she was looking into me instead of at me. I could feel her presence gently washing over me, making my skin tingle slightly. I took a breath immersed myself in the Force, and I felt the Jedi's senses focusing on me much clearer than the instinctual feeling I'd had of it before.

She was testing me, maybe? It didn't feel like a test, or that she was trying to catch me out in some way or another. It felt like she was trying to see more of what I was capable of. I didn't really know, so I reached out with my senses. Not far, but just enough that Cirinis would be able to feel me and that she'd know I was aware of what she was doing.

For a short moment, our senses and our minds touched and for the briefest instant I understood. She wasn't worried about me, but rather my future. She'd been shaken when I'd told her about my vision and was now trying to figure out what to do, and this moment played a part in how she'd make that choice.

And then the moment passed, and her presence retreated from my senses. She smiled curiously at me. Thalia took that moment to join us, sitting close to my right and putting her arm around my shoulders.

"Could you turn the torch off, please?" Cirinis asked, and Thalia switched off the device leaving us in near total darkness. Even in the black of night I felt Cirinis' eyes on me as she spoke to me, her voice low. "What can you see?"

Now, despite how I looked I was still biologically human, so right now my vision barely reached the tip of my nose. Still, I played along and ran my eyes over where I knew the city would be, searching for anything I could make out. After a moment I responded: "I can't see anything other than the few lights on the street and atop the wall."

Still…

"But I don't think that's what you're asking, right?" I took a deep breath and relaxed my shoulders. "Not what can be seen, but I can see."

I felt a flash of satisfaction through the Force from the Jedi before she spoke.

"You did something back in your home up the mountain, and while I don't know what exactly for that short moment you felt… different, in the Force." There was something in her voice, an unspoken question almost, but she didn't put it into words. Instead, she said: "And it had something to do with how you perceived the world." After a moment of pause she let out a short, quiet laugh. "There's this name some of the other Jedi call me. It's a silly thing", Cirinis said, her tone unreadable. "Sometimes it's a compliment, other times it's an insult, but they call me The Historian. It drives our Chief Librarian up the wall because I'm a hobbyist, according to her, even though I'm on the Council of First Knowledge."

A sudden gust of wind whipped across us on the mountainside and I shivered, even though I wasn't cold.

"She's probably right", Cirinis continued, unabated. "I try my best to keep up to date with the events and politics of the Republic along with learning galactic history, but my studies have always focused on the history of the Force. And yet, I've never seen or heard of anything quite like what you did."

Cirinis' hand wrapped around mine in a soft but firm grip, and I felt her presence in the Force fall softly over me like a blanket. Her mind touched mine again, but it was a one way connection this time. I didn't try to fight it because she wasn't attempting to control or manipulate me. Instead, her consciousness settled back behind my own, and my senses became hers.

She could feel what I felt, hear what I heard, see what I saw.

The Jedi squeezed my hand slightly. "Show me what you see."

I nodded, though it was more to myself than anything, and opened my eyes to The Moment.

The material world faded away and Cirinis stilled beside me.

My vision pierced through the shroud of darkness until I could see the city clearer than in even the brightest day. The land and sky turned to crystal and glass and the moon, once solid and unyielding, began to spin with tender power. The stars spread across the night glew brighter and more colourful, their distance from us becoming something comprehensible instead of something inferred.

I gazed down at Remnant and watched the city come to life. The houses and paths, the haphazard homes stretching from the base of the mountain that shifted into ordered rows and streets the farther away from the Lord's Hand you looked, all shifted into uniform constructs made of solid light and began to pulse like the beating heart of a living being. Each individual home shined brightly with the colour of its history, with the lives and memories of every person and family who lived there carved into the architecture.

The city walls of towering mismatched metal transformed into a burning aegis of silver steel with blue pillars framing the structure. Emerald signal-flames lined the tops of the wall, acting as a shining beacon of strength and security in a world overrun with darkness. Between each fire was a large metal cross, ornate in its design with symbols and writing in languages I didn't know etched into the design, built upside down into the wall like swords in their sheaths - ready for any attack.

"This is incredible…" Cirinis whispered almost in disbelief, and I turned to face her, laying eyes on the angelic form I'd first seen atop the mountain not even thirty minutes ago. The hood I'd seen covering her head in The Moment had been pulled back, revealing long golden hair made out of stardust that drifted away from her before fading away. The second I laid eyes on her, though, her head whipped towards me in what was very clearly amazement, even though this version of her lacked facial features. It was probably the most emotion I'd seen her express, but I wasn't surprised.

She felt emotion just as much as anybody, she just didn't let it show all that much. It was pretty obvious to me, though I do kind of cheat when it comes to understanding people.

Awestruck, Cirinis ran her free hand across her cheeks and through her hair, looking upon herself in The Moment through my own eyes. "This is how you see the world?…"

"Not all the time", I answered, keeping my eyes on her as she lifted up her arms. All either of us saw was sections of her robe-like body floating upward, their general shape giving an ethereal impression of limbs. I felt a sense of wonder from the Jedi, innocent and pure, and I laughed. "It's pretty, right?"

"It's beautiful…" She said. I could see Thalia's arm out the corner of my eye, the metal and stone limb wrapped around my shoulder, and the moment my attention shifted to it, Cirinis noticed it too. Sharing vision was fun like that.

Cirinis reached with her free hand, her other still holding my own, and gently ran her fingers up my sister's arm.

"The fuck!" Thalia cried out, and I turned to her with wide eyes. Her face, now formed of chiselled stone, went through an interesting sequence of shock; anger; and an entirely different type of shock before she leaned over me and towards Cirinis. "What was that?!" She hissed. "My brother is right there."

Cirinis looked unperturbed, taking Thalia by the wrist and inspecting it through my eyes. "I just wanted to see if sight was the only sense this thing affected. Considering your arm doesn't suddenly feel like stone, I'd say it doesn't."

My sister, esteemed captain of Remnant's guard, sputtered something unintelligible, before turning away with a pout. "Stone? What does that even mean?…" She mumbled to herself.

I shook my head, deciding to focus on the conversation and not whatever that was. "It doesn't work like that", I said after a moment. I looked up at the wall and pointed to the bits of colour and ornate decoration that were visible through The Moment: "I went up there once with Thalia just to see if I could touch those handle things, but every time I touched them it was like running my hand through smoke."

"Wait a second", Thalia interrupted, "I remember taking you up there earlier this year, after you begged Enra and I. You said you wanted to see the view." She said accusingly, eyes narrowed and her earlier frustration forgotten.

"I did!" I defended, looking away from my sister's steely eyes. I looked down at my hands, one still in the grasp of the Jedi and the other rubbing my trouser leg nervously. "We were talking about different views, that's all."

"That doesn't change a thing!"

Cirinis let out a hearty laugh. "What he told you was true, from a certain point of view", she said between chuckles. Her laughter died down and she spoke: "This is amazing, Caelum. You have an incredible gift. I just have a few questions though, after what I've seen." Before she finished talking she let go of my hand, and her presence faded from my mind. She took a deep breath and relaxed, and I could feel in that moment how exhausted she was, the day's events catching up to her. When she did that, I let go of The Moment and my vision returned to normal, the material world rebuilding before my eyes. "To start, how long have you had this gift?" She asked after a moment.

I shrugged and said, "I don't know. Since forever, I guess."

"As long as you can remember?"

"Uh huh. It would happen randomly when I got emotional, which wasn't fun. I got it under control after a while but it wasn't easy." I explained.

"And could you manifest the Force in any other ways? Before the dreams started, that is."

"Intentionally, not really." I admitted, face flushing a tad. It wasn't embarrassing in all honesty, but I'd worked hard to get where I was now. Looking back to where I'd been before was rough, with me barely having any control over my abilities bar the few I'd had talent in.

"Not really?" Cirinis asked. "I've seen you use Telekinesis, but there are other abilities that come naturally to those new to the ways of the Force."

I ran my hands together, recalling my training over the past eleven months, counting them off on my fingers as I went. "I can connect with and influence animals; I can enhance my body using the Force; I can manipulate minds though I haven't really practiced that too much and I can heal cuts and bruises." I paused for a moment, making sure I hadn't missed anything before continuing. "I learned those from my visions, mostly."

The Jedi leaned back with her arms placed behind her, nodding. "Those are most likely Force Empathy, Force Control, Force Confusion and Force Healing. The first three are taught to Younglings and Palawan early in their training because of their simplicity, though they take years of practice to master. The other is something that takes years to even learn, let alone become proficient with, so the fact you can even do such a thing is…"

"Cool?" I filled in.

Cirinis smirked. "I was going to say concerning. That ability relies on the transfer of the user's life force to the injured, so that their wounds may be healed. In small doses it is harmless, but large enough injuries could be fatal to the healer."

Thalia's arm went rigid around my shoulder. "I broke my leg four months ago." She said to Cirinis, voice faint, and I could feel her fear like a slap in the face. "I was gonna have to take time off but Caelum healed it for me. Are you telling me it could have killed him!?"

I turned to my sister and put a hand on her shoulder. "It wasn't that bad-"

She held a finger to my lips and shushed me, and gestured with her other hand to Cirinis, who took her cue to speak. "A broken leg wouldn't have done too much, but for someone as inexperienced as I imagine Caelum is, he'll have been pretty out of it for a whole - he might have even fallen ill."

I watched Thalia's face drain of colour even as her emotions spiked, fearful and angry at herself. I could imagine why, since after I'd fixed her leg for her I had ended up bedridden for two whole days. It had sucked but I figured it had been worth it. Obviously, my sister disagreed.

"Fucking hell…" Thalia whispered, her voice a pained groan, before climbing to her feet and stalking off a little ways down the path. I tried to grab her arm, to explain things and to apologise again, but my arms weren't long enough to reach her.

Just like that morning, when, despite my efforts and training, all I could do was watch. I wanted to help people, to keep those around me from harm, but what good was I when I couldn't even keep my sister from feeling like this!

I felt a slight sting as Cirinis slapped me round the back of the head; not enough to hurt, but just enough to draw me out of my own thoughts and back into the present, and I turned to her.

"Thinking on what could have been is a waste of time." Cirinis chided, though she wore a kind smile. "This evening has been hard on your sister. She feels like it is her duty to protect you, but with all she has learned about what you've been doing the past year, she feels like she has failed."

"She hasn't!" I exclaimed. "She's the best sister ever!"

"I'm not calling that into question, young one", she explained. "I have only known her for the few hours I have been in this city, and even then she has done nothing but impress me with both her kindness and her vigilance - for Remnant", the Jedi added, "and for you." She tucked some loose locks of hair back behind her ear absently, mulling over her words for a scant moment.

"Things will work themselves out between you two - trust in that." She said in the end, smiling as she ruffled my hair almost on instinct in an attempt to comfort me, but she realised what she was doing and drew away quickly, like she'd burned her hand on a hot stove. Her cheer remained, however, and she continued on and said: "And if they don't, work to fix it yourself. That's all you can do, so do it." She paused for a second before asking, "Do you understand what I'm getting at?"

I let out a shallow breath and thought over her words even as I sensed Thalia's frustration and anxiety from down a couple dozen or so metres down the path. She'd sat down just by the path and was running her hands through her hair, desperately trying to recall the past year to see if she had missed anything.

Those were her surface level thoughts and emotions, but it wouldn't take much to go deeper.

Force Empathy, Force Control, Force Healing, Telekinesis - I'd learned those through practicing what I'd seen in my visions and dreams, mostly through trial and error. My control over The Moment was learned out of necessity, to not be stuck looking through the lens of the Force whenever I lost control of myself.

The one thing that had come truly naturally to me, however, was my ability to know the things around me. If I wanted it, I could read Thalia's mind like a book. I could learn her secrets, her wants and her fears, and do everything in my power to help her whether she wanted it or not.

I was young and inexperienced, but no matter how I spun it in my head, calling it my gifts or my abilities, in reality all I had was power. I held in my being the strength to change things, more than any blaster or vibro-blade could, and with time and effort I could do things most people could only dream of.

That was the thing about potential, though: I could become someone good and kind who helps the people around him, but I could just as easily become a monster and a tyrant. I didn't like to think about it, but the way people looked at me sometimes…

Shivering, I looked down into the palms of my hands, clenching and unclenching my fists.

"Caelum?" Cirinis called, her voice concerned - if not outright worried, but I didn't look at her. Instead, I fixed my gaze towards the dark horizon and the city below; my home. "Are you okay?" She asked.

I had a hundred things I wanted to say right then. Some elegant arrangement of words that got across my feelings in that moment; the same feelings I dealt with every day in some way or another.

"I can feel it all.", I began, voice so quiet even I struggled to hear it. I wrapped my arms around my legs and drew my knees under my chin, mainly to hide the shaking.

I'd never said this before; not to anyone, and my confidence was leaving me. I took a deep breath and tried to hide the way I could feel Cirinis' eyes on me, speaking after a moment with conviction I did not truly feel. "I can feel everything. I know everything. I know where your friends are right now, you know that?" I turned and met the Jedi's eyes, almost willing her to understand.

If anything, she looked even more confused than before. "I don't understand. What do you mean?" She asked, and I felt myself growing more and more agitated.

It wasn't working - It never worked.

Ok, ok, deep breaths. Deep breaths… I thought. Focusing on letting the Force course through me, I pictured my anger and frustration washing away like water in a stream. I couldn't tell you if it worked or not, if I wasn't just tricking myself into thinking I could just let go of my anger like that, but I had faith.

That must've been enough, as I managed to rein in my disruptive emotions. It wouldn't get rid of my feelings - that wasn't possible, but it helped me see past them, enough to gain new perspective: If I couldn't explain to her what I meant, I could just show her instead.

I thought about those I'd sensed on the Defender as it crashed, and drew the Force deep within.

Tell me.

"Naeth, Vosh, Kilnen and Cear" I recited, keeping my eyes locked on Cirinis. "They're in the third booth by the left wall of the Falling Star. They're all enjoying a fresh vegetable stew made by Uyos, the Quartermaster's wife, and some of the other cooks - apart from Kilnen. He's been feeling ill since the crash and isn't feeling up to eating right now, even if he knows it'd be better for him if he did."

Cirinis' eyes went wide but she didn't say a word, so I continued.

"Cear and Kilnen are arguing over trade policies, and Cear is threatening the potential implementation of a planetary blockade - whereas Kilnen is getting ready to call her bluff as he knows Frenmore doesn't have a large enough star-fleet to do such a thing. He's keeping his cards close to his chest, though, because he's worried that Cear knows more than she's letting on. Which she does."

I smirked, letting the knowledge flow into my mind and into my words.

"Naeth wishes they'd shut up, mainly because he's weighing his chances with the pretty Mirialian lady at the bar." My attention shifted as new information came to me, so naturally and swiftly that it was like I'd known it my whole life. "He doesn't have a chance, though. Lori's having relationship trouble of her own, but she's loyal to her partner and is only willing to blow off steam with a couple drinks and a nice meal. In fact her partner, a Devaronian named Jare, is on his way now to try and apologise to her himself. He knows he's got a bit of a temper that can lead to shouting matches, but he's genuinely dedicated to improving himself if it means they can stay together."

"Hold on, hold on!" Cirinis interrupted. She'd listened to my rambling with nothing but a bewildered expression, betraying her confusion at my words, but had shaken herself out of her stupor to take the chance to get a word in. "You just… know all those things?"

"Kinda, yeah." I mumbled.

"I, uh", she said, searching for the words. "I was sensing your connection to the Force while you were speaking", she began, "and it didn't change once!" She didn't even bother to hide her amazement, and I sensed she was somehow excited and nervous at the same time.

Still, I didn't understand why that was so important. Cirinis must have understood my problem, though, because she quickly elaborated: "Everybody has a signature in the Force, which Force-Sensitives like us can detect. But when someone like us starts actively channeling the Force, our signature changes, so even if what we're doing is not overt it's still noticeable."

"But mine didn't?" I asked, catching on.

"No! I've never seen something like it before!" She stopped for a second to consider her words before speaking, "What you were doing seems like an advanced form of Force Sense, but the fact it doesn't register as an active use of the Force, at least to me, makes me think what you have is an ability that is always on and gathering information. You have to actively think about what you want to know before you actually learn anything, though. That's why your presence in the Force didn't change - because you weren't doing anything different than normal."

"That's interesting", I murmured, mainly because what she was saying didn't really mean anything to me. I still hadn't managed to get my point across, either. "Do you get why I'm telling you this?" I tried.

Cirinis looked at me for a long moment, truly looked at me, and her eyes widened in realisation before softening in sympathy. "People are afraid of what they don't understand, and I'm willing to bet most people here don't understand you very well at all, do they?"

I couldn't bear the look on her face right then, full of a concern I didn't want, so I shut my eyes and laid down, face to the sky. She understood - she might have been the first who did. I should've been happy, yet instead I felt a strange sense of vulnerability similar to when I first met her, but it was different from that time with Cirinis in my home on the Lord's Hand.

Back then, she'd looked at me the same as most people did: like I was a question that needed to be answered. From my family to the strangers I used to pass in the streets, they all wanted to know in some way or another what I was.

Not who. What.

Revenant Five was a world scarred by the twisted magics of those who had come before - people who were most likely Force-Users, now that I thought about it.

And when the blue-skinned human baby with mystical powers fell from the sky, it wasn't unreasonable for them to think that I may be what sets off the latest in a long line of cataclysms.

It was why our planet was named Revenant Five, after all. Five apocalypses in the past one thousand years, and we only knew about four of them; each one a recorded failure to rebuild our civilization. The first, the one that had plunged our world into a millennia of darkness, was naught more than a distant memory in the few data recordings my people had been able to salvage from the homes of our forebears.

They didn't know, so those outside my immediate family kept me at arms length. I didn't know either, and I was beyond scared at how tempting it was, sometimes, to use the Force to make people just accept me.

But that would be wrong. There was no hiding from that simple fact, because I knew the truth.

My connection to the Force gave me the ability to look into the heart of my world, along with the souls of the people around me - because that was what The Moment was. It was me peering behind the curtain of the normal world and seeing things for what they truly were.

I could see people at their most basic level, and anything I did to them, even if to remove their fear of me, would change them in a way that was unforgivable.

No matter how many times I explained The Moment to those close to me, they never properly grasped what I was telling them. They thought of me as a child enthralled by pretty colours and images. And the strangers I looked upon, with their beauty and their history, only saw me as the creepy child who knew too much to be trusted.

But Cirinis understood. She knew what the Force was, and that what I could see held real, genuine significance. She could see it too, in her own unique way.

She knew what it was like to fall in love with the world's beauty, and to love a people that didn't love you back.

Cirinis knew what it was like to be feared, just like I did.

It was why I'd moved halfway up the mountain to that old research-facility, because when I was surrounded by people I knew were terrified to be near me because of what I'd done, and what I could go on to do, sometimes I felt like I would lose control of myself.

I was afraid of them, their anxious eyes and fearful thoughts.

More than any of that, though, I was afraid of myself. My love for life and the people around me could take me down a dark path, one I wouldn't recognise until it was too late to change course.

I'd felt the touch of the Dark in my worst moments, those selfish desires and choices that could take everyone else's choices away, and I didn't know if I was strong enough to resist that pull.

I trusted the Force. I didn't trust myself.

"I think I need help." I said, honestly, fearfully, hopefully. "I think I might be lost."

Cirinis helped me up, wrapping her arm around my shaking shoulders. Then she palmed my cheek gently and turned my face to hers, meeting my gaze with steady eyes. I felt myself begin to cry, but she wiped my tears away with a kind smile.

"You are not lost yet, Caelum Starfall - you never were."

Her words were a promise, and I knew that no matter what tomorrow brought, I would not be facing it alone.

Soon, Thalia made her way back up the path with an apology on her lips, but when she saw me with a bright and tearful smile on my face, she knew words weren't needed.

We hugged it out, and I realised it didn't matter that Thalia would never truly understand my connection to the Force.

She loved and accepted me for who I was, not what I could do.

That was enough for me.

We watched the stars for a little while, while life went on.

Despite how tough this chapter was, I had a lot of fun with it. I've been looking forward to getting into Caelum's perspective with how he sees the world through the lens of the Force, what with his unique sensory abilities - especially with how young he is. I was worried about putting up a very character-heavy chapter with little to no action, but I figured it would be best to tell the story in the way I wanted to tell it, instead of conforming to my preconceived notions on what a chapter should contain. There was a similar pressure to get the word count up, but I didn't want to sacrifice quality for numbers, so, yeah.

I hope you enjoyed the chapter, and I hope you're enjoying Caelum as much as I enjoy writing him! Stay safe out there, people, and see you next chapter.