The Foundling

Chapter 10: Live

Din wondered at that.

"He won't unsee anything," said Ahsoka. "But you can help him fill the wound with the care of a father. Comfort him, and don't make him push away his feelings. Help him work through them."

"He's just a child," said Din. "He shouldn't have to be caught up in all this."

"He is powerful and pure," said Ahsoka. "But at some time or other, he must face both the light and the dark in order to comprehend the whole, in order to channel and direct his powers."

"Can you teach him, then?"

"He has already begun to see both in you."

Din met her gaze from behind his blurred display. She returned it, as if she could see through the helmet, into his eyes, into his soul, all the shadows there. He wanted to pull back, but he didn't.

"He has seen darkness in me," he said quietly. "I've been angry. He's watched me kill. I left him in Imperial hands for a camtono of beskar."

It felt so cheap. But it shouldn't have. It belonged to his people. Vizsla had been right. He had no right to wear it.

"The memories you carry with you have given you compassion," said Ahsoka. "You came back for him."

"It was almost too late. My tribe was destroyed because they defended us. If I hadn't left him in the first place, they wouldn't have had to. They died because of me. I did it."

"No," said Ahsoka. "You didn't. It was Imperial forces under a man consumed with ambition and hatred. Your friends made their choice. And you made yours. You saved a life when it was beyond what others expected of you, because that is who you really are."

Din gave a sigh. "I don't know how long I can protect him. They'll never stop hunting us. I have no idea how to raise a kid. I don't understand his powers." He looked up at Ahsoka. His voice stuck in his throat. But he had to ask. "Will you take him?"

Ahsoka gave him a long look, as if searching out an answer in him, or . . . something beyond them both.

"I have seen many things through the Force that he would not yet comprehend," she said. "Not until he has passed through many trials, as I have. He must experience both light and dark, and learn to trust anyway. He will only begin to understand by watching someone struggle between the different parts of their self. Then he will learn to make those choices on his own, to find the way."

"I do not know the Jedi way. And the life of a Mandalorian is too harsh for one so small. We have no home. Someone's always following our trail. We have to fight to survive. It's . . ."

"Lonely," said Ahsoka.

Until now, he hadn't realized that was a problem for him.

"The life of a Jedi is much the same," said Ahsoka. "But even a hard life can be complete. Even a fugitive can find peace."

He didn't know how to do that either. There was a reason he couldn't stay on Sorgan. He had to keep moving, always. That was the life he had chosen.

"Din, you can't change the fate of others," said Ahsoka. "You can't protect them from everything. You can't go back and save the ones you've lost."

A pang, sharp and stark, burrowed into him. Why did she remind him? Again, the old memory flashed through his mind. People he barely knew taken by fear, falling to the heated blasts of battle droids' weapons. No shelter. His parents setting him down, throwing open the shutters, holding him one last time, then lowering him into the darkness. The wrenching image of their faces as they closed the shutters against the light of an overcast sky. They'd known that as long as he was with them, he'd never be safe. The shadows would never stop coming for them. But they'd left him alone.