Nariel followed the Masters into the room. It was in the right wing of the temple, and was far more decorated than any other place she'd been to on Raudraksha. Mostly by potted flowering plants. There was also a pool of water in middle of the room. In addition, the walls were covered with tapestries, paintings, and carvings.

There were seven people on the dais opposite them, seated on the floor. Servants waited on the wings, the tables beside them laden with fruits and drinks.

A fully armed Sukanya stood behind the Council, off to the left wing. She held a small and silent Raudra child in her hands. Nariel waved her hands at the boy, who, looking confused, waved three of his back at her. Sukanya gave his cheek a tender kiss. Nariel realised that his half-closed third eye was white. Was this Vajra then? The sole survivor of the Sith's massacre?

She studied the councillors. One, a middle-aged woman, wore the orange robes of a priest. She had a metal ornament in her upper right hand, a small trident. Her face was covered in white paint, giving her a dappled look.

The man beside her was slightly older than she. He wore a painted scale-mail armour, with a black-and-gold scarf and a gleaming helmet capped with gold. There was a curved sword on the ground beside him. The others—four women and a man—all wore embroidered white shawls.

All three Jedi, along with Captain Toramad, Corporal Tarsten and ZS sat down before them. Sumathi sat down close to Sukanya.

The woman was the first to smile and bow. ZS interpreted. "Greetings, guests of Raudraksha. My name is Meghna. I am the High Priestess of Jnanaprastha. I am the chief of this temple, as well as all priests everywhere on Raudraksha."

"And I am Indran," the man said. "I have been chosen to speak for the nobles. The man behind me is Kaunteya. This is Chandana—" he pointed at the younger woman in white. "And this is Vidya. She is my advisor. The others are the Revered Lady Meghna's."

"I am Master Oteg of the Jedi Order, this is Master WenSuul. This here is my Padawan—my apprentice—Nariel Pridence. The men behind me are Toramad and Tarsten. They are Republic Military."

The priestess beamed. "Be welcomed to our fair land. We thank you for not disturbing the peace as these Sith did." She snapped her fingers, and the servants brought leaf plates and a goblet for everyone.

"It is indeed a fair land," Oteg admitted. "This city is especially lovely. Beautiful, well-tended, and well-designed. And your own people have shown a wisdom we are always gratified to find in our travels."

The priestess frowned, and ZS elaborated for her before translating her response. "Ah. I see. Well, it is said we were also a barbaric people before the great Rudra brought us to our present path."

"We are sorry that our war reached your land," Oteg said sadly. "But we were pleasantly surprised to see that someone on this world could face a full Sith Lord."

Indran nodded. "Yes. Aparajitha will be honoured for his heroism."

"What of Vajra?" Her Master asked. "I can see that his third eye has turned white too."

Everyone looked taken aback for a second before they burst into laughter. "You have taken interest in our people?" Vidya asked. "To learn our beliefs and customs? We appreciate this. We did not know if visitors from the heavens would care about we who scurry around on the mountain paths."

"Not everyone does," WenSuul admitted. "But learning is one of the Jedi Order's commitments."

"Is that so?" Chandana asked with interest, after receiving her mistress's permission. "What are your others?"

"We protect the peace in the Republic," WenSuul answered. "We mediate disputes. Stop fights. Treat with ambassadors." That one needed some explanation. "And when the times call for it, we fight at the front. But most of all, we serve what you call 'the Gift'. It has a Will of its own, and we can feel that will if we meditate. And, with practice, we can use some of the Gift to aid us in our endeavours."

In demonstration, he Levitated all the fruits out of his plate, and set them in an orbit around the largest one. There was a moment of surprised silence before everyone laughed and clapped in delight. There were a stream of happy comments ZS could not quite keep up with, but then one of the red fruit zipped out of the orbit and onto the council's left. Right into Vajra's waiting hands.

This time, the silence was a stunned one.

"I was right," WenSuul whispered. Vajra looked at her. Awareness returned to his eyes, and a look of sudden confusion crossed his face. Sukanya consoled him as he seemed to grow agitated, then stepped forward to offer the fruit back.

"My colleague here believes that there are no coincidences," Master Oteg explained. "The Sith attack. The destruction of four clans. And one survivor. The Force wills it all."

Sukanya asked something testily. "What does that mean?"

"Well, his eye has turned white, has it not? I suspect he will go on to do great things. Perhaps he is needed."

"Perhaps it is here that he is needed," Meghna said.

"Of course. I do not mean to presume what his fate is to be. We serve the Force, but do not know its will."

"We do not appreciate you turning your attention to him right from the outset," Indran said stoically.

Nariel gulped. The atmosphere had changed in the span of a heartbeat. Out of nowhere, she felt her life might be in danger. These people had killed Sith, she remembered. Even before the Devarath priest attacked.

"We apologize," her Master said. He nudged his colleague, who jumped. "I am sorry," she said. "I was startled. It's not often an untrained child does something like that."

"Well, he has been called upon," Sumathi said. "Stories tell us that the other Rudras were all acknowledged by the wise."

"Yes," Meghna took a deep breath to compose herself. "You wished to see him. I trust you are satisfied? Then Sukanya should take him away—"

"No," Vajra said. His voice was hoarse, but loud enough to be heard. "I must stay. I hear the Call."

His pronouncement was met with shock.

"What Call do you hear?" Sukanya asked uncertainly, and Vajra pointed.

"That," he replied. WenSuul looked confused, but Nariel could see exactly where his finger was pointing.

"Do you mean this?" she asked, pulling out the Master's Lightsaber and igniting it. The boy nodded. His eyes never left the green blade.

"It sings," he whispered. He then began humming a slow, melodious tune. His head swayed from side to side, and his third eye opened wide. He looked around, his gaze gaining keenness with every moment. He looked up at Sukanya, who gave him a dazzling smile, seemingly happy to see him emerge from his shell. The others smiled too, forgetting their guests for a second. Indran said something, which made all heads snap forward in embarrassment.

Master Oteg tilted his head. "Lightsaber crystals have been indeed known to sing to those who can Feel the Force."

Sukanya tilted her head. Her grip on the child tightened a little, and she turned protectively as if to shield him. "Whatever it was, it ended his stupor," she admitted. "But he is of Raudraksha! We cannot allow him to be taken!" She looked around for support.

The priestess nodded. "We had hoped to put this moment off until our talks ended. But it has fallen upon us as any mountain storm does. No one can avoid fate."

"Vajra!" Indran commanded, and the boy looked at him. "You say you have been called. By what?"

"By that," he pointed at the Lightsaber. "It says 'Dance… storm… wander'."

"And by 'wander', you think you must leave with these outsiders?"

He looked afraid again. He looked around, as if seeking the answer the adults wanted.

"You must only speak the truth, child," the priestess said gently. "Do you have to leave?"

After several minutes, he spoke up in a strained voice. "I must leave. I must."

"If you leave, we cannot accept you back," Sukanya said, half-pleading.

"A harsh burden for such a small child," Nariel whispered to her Master. "He's already watched his family die."

"This was not our choice," her Master whispered back. "Nor is it his. WenSuul could hear the whispers from kilometres away."

WenSuul took her Lightsaber back and walked up to Sukanya, who reluctantly knelt down. The Jedi master made some adjustments on her hilt, then reignited it. She touched the blade on her palm a few times to show that it was no threat at the moment, then handed it to Vajra. The hilt was huge in his small hands, and clearly heavy. Master WenSuul helped him hold onto it.

"Can you hear it?"

He shook its head slowly. "It sings with no words now."

"When I landed on this planet, I heard the Force whispering," WenSuul said. "I could not tell the words either, for they are the words of a god to an ant. But when I heard your story, the whisper grew into a stern command. I knew then… that you, like many of us Jedi, must learn. Must serve. Can you hear it? Can you hear the Force?" She placed a hand on his cheek. "Close your eyes. Listen to the song. Then Listen… beyond."

The boy listened. Minutes ticked past, even with Master WenSuul's aid. His expression turned to worry. "It is… so… big," he said.

"It is the entire universe beyond the skies. It is every person, god, and insect. Every rock and tree. Every land. Every hope, prayer, dream, joy, anger, and sorrow. This is the Force."

"And it calls to me," Vajra finished. "I must leave."

"No!" Sukanya looked distressed.

"You moved that fruit by instinct," WenSuul went on. "But instinct is a poor teacher. You have none here. I can show you the ways of the Force. Of the Jedi. When I am done with you, you might be strong enough to save another world from this tragedy. You might save ten."

The expressions at his prompt response made interpretation somewhat unnecessary. "I'll do it. I'll go. Please teach me."

Sukanya sighed. Holding back tears, she put the child on the floor. Several others looked on the verge of tears too, including Indran. Vajra gave the Lightsaber back. "This calls to me," he said. "But it is not mine."

"You can build one of your own, when you are better trained. This is no toy."

She led him away.

"Nariel, go with them," her Master suggested. "I'll continue our talks here… assuming our hosts aren't eager to be rid of us at this point."

"Was it worth it?"

"That is not for us to decide. But for myself... yes. I think it was worth it. He is not very strong in the Force, I think. But that call was unmistakable."

"I heard nothing."

"You weren't Listening. You were too caught up in the tension."

"I'm sorry Master."

"Don't be. You will learn. Now hurry up. WenSuul, for all her gifts, is not good with children."

"Neither am I!"

Her Master sighed, and was about to turn to Tarsten. Sensing the opportunity she was about to miss, Nariel took off like a cork from a bottle. "I'm going, I'm going!"

She waited outside for hours, following Vajra around. He seemed more alive now; he played with the other children. He clapped at all the songs and lights, and seemed dazzled by the city. It was his first time seeing one, evidently.

The other citizens all gathered around him when they noticed the white eye. They pressed him with condolences and prayers, which nearly broke his innocent eyes again. Nariel picked him up and took him in the direction of the ships. "Come on," she said. "I'll introduce you to the others. Maybe B8 can start teaching you Basic! You're going to need to learn Basic!" He looked up at her, confused again, but he didn't protest. Indeed, he looked up with wonder at the shuttle in the paddock. "This will take you to your new home!" Nariel said happily. "Actually, this will take us to the mothership. And that will take you to your new home. I think."

Vajra said something she didn't understand.

"He says 'you talk too much'," B8 said.

"Really?" Nariel was taken aback. His words in the chambers had been so polite!

"This Droid likes to… summarize," Coop smiled. "What did he really say, Bait?"

The droid shook his head onerously. "He said 'You have a lovely voice, but I do not understand the songs you sing.'"

"He really said that?" Nariel looked at him with a sudden rush of affection. "What a sweet child! Are all Raudra children this well-spoken? They must be taught courtesy from a very young age!"

B8 sighed. "If I might ask, Padawan Pridence: why do you hold this child in your arms?"

"Because he is coming home with us," Master WenSuul replied for her. The Jedi Master had been sitting at the base of the ramp, looking out at the city. "He is to be trained as a Jedi."

"And it probably falls to me to start teaching him basic," the droid groaned. "Here, give him to me, Padawan."

"Not yet," WenSuul said. "This will be the last time he sees his home. Nariel, take him around the city, would you? Let him smell the markets and hear his language as much as he can."

"But Master—"

"Are you afraid they'll remind him of his tragedy? He cannot overcome it if we keep turning his eyes away from it. I will help him through his trauma later. But for now, he must tour his world one last time."

B8 had been translating for him. "He asks that you come too, Master Jedi."

"I cannot," she said regretfully. "My legs ache. I am afraid I've done too much walking these past two days. Now, go on! You will regret it if you don't give yourself a final farewell. And B8, for once in your existence, give him a proper translation!"

The droid sighed, and started over. The boy nodded. "Let him down," B8 said. "He'll lead the way. And I suppose I must follow along too…"

Nariel had never had as much fun as she had that day. As dusk approached, and the city took on an orange glow from the sunset, the citizens lit hundreds of oil lamps. When the sun finally set, the streets and houses were awash like a painting of orange and shadow.

But her reactions were nothing compared to Vajra's. The small child squealed with delight, ran from one attraction to the next. When he thought no one was looking, he held out a palm, trying his utmost to concentrate.

"I doubt you will find it so easy the second time," Nariel told him. "That first one was luck. For more, you need to train."

She expected to see him disappointed, but he nodded after mulling it over for a few seconds.

With the fall of dusk, new performances had begun; fire-eaters and lantern dancers. One elderly philosopher used various powders to change a campfire's colours. Beautiful smoke swirled in intricate patterns, and the old woman pointed out shapes, and recited tales about them.

Shortly after supper, the council emerged along with her Master. Heralds called for a brief lull in the festivities.

High Priestess Meghana took the stand. "We have struck a bargain with our guests. We will have a shield to protect us from unwanted incursions. With the Mother's grace, the Sith shall never again find us such easy prey."

Everyone clapped for a brief moment before there was a call for silence.

"This gift was freely given. There were no bargains, no haggling. These people, these Jedi, do not like seeing their wretched opposites kill innocents. But given the magnanimity of the gift, we felt we had to give one in return. Every year, on this day, we will host merchants from the stars. We will exchange two carts full of our crafts for some of theirs. In addition, we will allow them to set up an… 'embassy' on our world." That word was in basic, for the Raudra had no term for it, according to B8. "It is an outpost which will house an emissary, a messenger should we ever need it. Lord Tarsten has requested to be part of the entourage. In addition…" she sounded pained. "It seems the last survivor of the Devarath has heard The Call after all… but it was a different one from what we imagined. When our guests leave, he will be joining them. Whatever purpose awaits him in that deep dark, the council wishes him well. But once he leaves… he may never return." Her voice broke. "It is forbidden to sail beyond sight of our sacred peaks. We have made sure he understands. But he is sure of his path."

There was a collective sigh of sorrow.

"But fear not. He has the white eye. Rudra guides him to his destiny. Away, away from home. We trust his upbringing to the Father, and to these Jedi, for they have shown humility, wisdom, and compassion. Their warriors have also shown civility. Little Vajra… I pray for your safe journey. I pray you can overcome the obstacles your path brings… and fulfil your destiny."

"Though he must depart, he leaves in in honour," Indran's sonorous voice said. "Which is why I present him with this gesture. We will place his name outside the grand shrine. Should word reach us that he has achieved a strong portion of his destiny, it will be placed alongside Aparajitha's, and he will be forever known as one of the Chosen of our great-father."

There was a general murmur of approval.

"Then it is time," Meghna said gravely. "Farewell, young Vajra. May Shakti grant you strength."

"And this concludes the first day of the festivities," Indran said sternly. "You may return to the food and drink, but anymore performances must wait for tomorrow."

Nariel looked at the child. His eyes had gone glassy again, but he did start awake when she shook him. She brushed his hair and said "Don't worry, child. The Force will be with you. Always."

The kind words seemed to bring him no comfort.