"Don't waste your time looking back. You're not going that way."
28 ABY, Batuu
Black Spire Outpost, The Whispering Eye
First person POV.
I was grinding my teeth. I don't know for how long, but it was enough to make my jaw ache. My eyes were glued on the Holonet as the news broadcasted loudly over the quiet lounge. The Jedi Temple of Luke Skywalker, previously hidden from general society, has been found in fire and ruin. No signs of life, no signs of Skywalker. All that was found were bodies, both large and small, and then fire and rubble. Everything was gone. There was nothing there.
There was nothing for me to come back to, even if I wanted.
Part of me did, but that was snuffed out the other night. I felt it during a restless sleep. A great disturbance; loud and angry and full of darkness. It rippled the Force in the galaxy, no doubt signalling all those that were sensitive to it. There was no news until the graves were found still warm with destruction. No evidence to be found in that rubble.
It was only weeks ago that the news about the genealogy of Leia Organa and Luke Skywalker came to light. There was no evidence that linked the destruction of the Temple to this new revelation. But, if there is one lesson that I kept from Jedi training, it was that there was no such thing as coincidences.
I've been sitting at the bar for an undetermined amount of time. The voices behind me were hushed, a few forced giggles that appeared louder than the idle chatter. Clinks of glasses, a cough from smoking. No one else seemed to care about the Holonet broadcast; no one but me.
I felt the warmth of a body behind me, and then hands snake around my waist and a chin rested on my shoulder. I didn't move; her smell alone was enough to tell me who exactly it was. She smelled potently like cigarettes, mixed with perfumes of exotic flowers.
"Mm, never look back, dear," she spoke, her voice gravely with age and poor health. "Because you'll just see something like that." Her chin lifted as she gestured to the Holonet.
Demetra pulled away, then patted my shoulder as she turned towards the bar and signalled the bartender for her usual. She slid onto a stool next to me, crossed her legs and fished for a cigarette from her bosom, then leaned on her elbow after she lit it.
"Think of it as a blessing," she spoke again, blowing out a curtain of smoke. "Now you're not tempted to go back."
More words of wisdom from the mother of the year. Demetra had a lot of them up her sleeve. It was irritating at how often they made sense, and were so often proved correct. Like right now. I left the Temple for a reason -- I wasn't wanted. I was a disappointment. I was there for nearly ten years, and I struggled as much as I did the moment I stepped foot on that nameless moon. There were things I could do better now, sure; levitate objects, mostly. Meditation was particularly hard, but I always preferred hand to hand combat to most other things. But I was never strong enough, so I often lost in sparring matches, both with and without training sabers.
I never did get my own lightsaber, but everyone in my age group did. I would never know what colour it would be. Though, I'd imagine it would be dull in brightness, and weaker than the others. Like a flickering light in an old building.
21 ABY, Mid Spring
Jedi Temple of Luke Skywalker
First Person POV
I rushed to pull off my boots after I situated myself on the hard earth that jutted over the small creek that coiled itself around the grassy tundra around the temple. I felt confined in my own clothing. I missed being barefooted, but the land was rocky around the temple. The tundra was hard earth, only tall grass, rock formations, and the occasional strong-willed tree. It wasn't the most comfortable terrain to walk around on, especially without shoes. The scars on the balls of my feet showed that I had learned the hard way.
But right now, I couldn't handle the prison the leather and thick cotton fabric made around my body. It always got worse when I felt frustrated, and at the moment my entire body was itching with the emotion.
I let my feet dangle off the ledge, just a foot above the water. I could feel the nip of the cold water bite at my toes. My shaky hands balled into a first, and I shut my eyes and held my breath. I felt like I was drowning, so I kept on holding onto that breath, as if it were my last.
This made all the sounds around me appear louder, though. In the distance, I could hear the wahh, woosh, crack, and sizz of lightsabers behind me. They all had their sabers, and today was the first day that they were ignited and used. I knew this day was going to come eventually; Tai, Hennix, Voe, and Ben were sent months ago to find their Kyber Crystals, and since then they have been working on their hilts every other day.
The pressure to catch up to them heightened when Luke took them one by one to find their crystals. I hoped that, like puberty, the Force would hit me like an asteroid by the time they all had one. Then, it would have been my turn. That didn't happen. I was still where I was when they all got back, and still I remain.
I let go of the breath I held. My lungs ached more than my mind, and now my muscles felt heavy and relaxed. My fingers unravelled themselves from the comfort of my grip, and all I could do was stare at the crescent marks in my palms that my blunt nails caused. I was in a fog of my own insecurities and anxieties. So much so that I didn't feel Luke's presence, let alone hear his boots crunch the small pebbles that littered the ground.
He sat down next to me and took off his own boots. He dangled his feet over the edge, and looked forward at the uneven expanse of terrain until it was cut off by the line of tall trees of the dense forest. I heard him sigh, and then sink his shoulders to relax.
I waited and waited for him to say something. He let the silence stretch for too long; I was starting to feel my fingers shake from anticipation.
"The daisies are coming in nicely this year," he finally spoke, gesturing over to the white and pink flowers that sprinkled the fields. "I saw some really big ones near the lake this morning."
I looked at his profile, feeling the muscles of my forehead crease as I listened to him prattle on about daisies. Finally I pulled my eyes from him and joined him in staring at the wild flowers. I made no comment about daisies. I didn't say anything at all, and so, he continued on.
"It's still early though," he lifts his hand and points at the daisies next to the shallow creek's edge. "See, there is still a bud that hasn't bloomed yet."
My eyes found what he was referring to. Wedged between a rock and the grass were five stems of uneven lengths. The tallest with the largest petals, and the shortest was still tucked inside its leaves. I was fourteen, but not stupid. I knew what he was trying to say, and when I looked at him with my set of unimpressed eyes, he merely shrugged.
"The last to bloom always tends to be the most beautiful, as long as you give it time," his hands disappeared into the sleeves of his cloak as he rested them on his knees.
"You're just full of cliches, Master Luke," I deadpanned, and sunk into myself, hunched over my knees and watched my toes ghost over the gentle rush of water.
"Cliches exist for a reason," he mused, unperturbed by my statement. "There is truth to them. If there wasn't, people would not over use them."
I didn't want to argue with him over cliches. Arguing with Luke Skywalker was a losing battle. He always had a metaphor or allegory in his oversized sleeves. I considered documenting every one of them one day, but I gave up after I lost count. Though, on particularly boring days, I made a game out of it in my own head.
"I'm never going to get a lightsaber," I spoke aloud, rushing to the point of why he joined me by the creek.
"Unless you're developing the gift of foresight, you cannot make that assumption. You have to be patient, Siggy, and you especially cannot compare yourself to the others. They are all in their own stages of training. Voe, for example, desperately wants to be better than Ben. What she fails to understand is that the Force is not a race up a ladder. It's a door, and everyone has their own."
Another analogy. If there was alcohol at the temple, I would've taken a shot.
I sighed through my nose, fingers breaking off blades from grass between my knees. If it was a race, Ben would surely be winning. That would never surprise me; he was undeniably skilled in every area. I've been here for two years and the only time Luke's nephew talked to me was when he needed to. A reminder for dinner; a request for notes for a class he missed; a question of the time here and there. I was nervous to breach through this lukewarm civility he had towards me. He was intimidating; his impressive leiniage, his skill, his way around the Force, and by the Maker, he was beautiful.
Tall like a great Redwood tree, with a royal nose and beautiful petaled lips in the shape of a bow. If you took the night sky and inverted it, it would look like his skin. Beauty marks and moles scattered around like stars on his skin. I've always wanted to connect them and try to make constellations, but I was afraid of staring at him for too long. He always seemed to catch me staring at him, even if it was for the briefest of seconds. I was completely enamoured with him since the moment I was introduced. I've never seen many people my age at the time, let alone boys, so I never had the opportunity to develop a crush. All I really had were stories and dolls to play out fantasies. Who knew a crush could cripple every brave and confident bone in my body?
Luke's hand on my wrist put a halt to my train of thought. I forced myself to look at him, and his eyes were soft as he regarded me with tenderness.
"Do not be hard on yourself, young Padawan," I almost cringed at the title. I wasn't much of a Padawan. "One day, it will be your turn, and the distance you feel now will narrow until it never even existed."
I opened my mouth, but found that I had no words to contradict him. I was tired. So I closed my lips and nodded. He gave me a pat on the arm before gathering his boots and leaving me to the creek's edge. My eyes trained on the stem of daisies that he pointed out earlier, while listening to him slip on his boots. The crunch of pebbles signaled his retreat back to the blossoming Jedi and their lightsabers.
My fingers tore through the grass until I was satisfied with the pile I made in my lap. My eyes started to burn as I stared a hole into those daisies. I hadn't realized I didn't blink at all until I finally did, and felt the sting of dryness. I pushed myself off the ledge, dropping the short distance into the creek, and hopped over it's narrow neck. Bending down, I grabbed the daisy-to-be and pulled it from the ground.
Now, it will never bloom, just like me.
28 ABY, Batuu
Black Spire Outpost, The Whispering Eye
First person POV.
3 days later.
I dreamt of fire every night so far. Red was the only colour I saw. The flames a deep carmine as it ate up the black and white structure of the temple. The rivers and creeks bled the same colour as the fire. The grass was white, the sky was black, and I could see myself standing in the middle of it all, like a statue built on the ruins of a place I thought to be home. Daisies rained from the sky, but they quickly turned to ash before hitting the ground.
The day began dully, regardless of my ominous and haunting dreams the night before. I had no scheduled clients, which was by design. Demetra tended to book me for four, sometimes five clients a day. That was almost twice as much as everyone else in here. She abused the fact that I was a favourite -- if she only knew that nothing ever happened once my door closed.
I was told I was quite persuasive, but in reality, it was more than just honeyed words. Aside from levitating objects, the one skill that I seem to retain and perfected was the Mind Touch. Which I have been unknowingly doing all my life. It's a useful tool in a brothel. My first client was a handsy Devaronian, though he barely got past my hips before I compelled him to believe I serviced him; that I was the best he ever had; that he was to pay double my rate.
Every client was the same, and every time I used Mind Touch on them, I could feel that particular talent flourish. There were some that had a stronger mind than others; some species are like that. But a push was all it took, a breach of their mind in such a violent manner that Skywalker would be appalled. No one touched me unless I absolutely wanted them to, and that came as often as an eclipse.
I didn't want to see anyone right now. I never use Mind Touch on my mother, but this was the one exception. She wouldn't listen to reason. She wouldn't understand my peculiar way of mourning. She especially wouldn't understand me mourning those that rejected me.
Tired with my own company for the day, I pulled on a robe over my black sheer dress and left to go down stairs. I needed a drink; maybe it would help the thoughts cloud over. I descended down the stairs, immediately met with the incense that burned to cover up the smell of cigarettes and illegal herbs. My mother stood in the lounge, whispering with one of the girls. Her hands clutched the younger's elbows, her eyes wide.
"Are you sure?" I caught what she was saying. The girl nodded, confirming something in a whisper. "Why now? After all these years?"
When the heel of my pump hit the hardwood, Demetra's head whipped over to me. Her face paled as if she saw a ghost. The sight of such raw emotion on her face was foreign to me. I was so used to seeing her nonchalance, that this took me by surprise.
"What's wrong?" I asked, leaning against the railing that separated the sunken lounge from the bar area.
Demetra's head whipped back at the girl, "Go upstairs, watch from the attic. Let me know when the ship lands."
The girl nodded and ran past me towards the stairs. I wish I remembered her name, but I never bothered to learn anyone's name here. I watched her until she disappeared down the hall above us, and then I looked at my mother with an arched eyebrow.
Her strides across the lounge were swift and purposeful. Her heels made her look tall and formidable. She was already a tall woman to begin with, but the extra height made her into a giantess. She strode by me, slipping behind the bar and rummaging through the various bottles before settling on an expensive bottle of wine.
When she caught my eye, she uncorked it, "We will be getting a few VIPs soon."
"Isn't that a good thing?" I moved to a stool in front of her, and watched her pull out a single wine glass. "VIPs pay triple."
She humed, agreeing with me. But when she poured the wine in the cup, her hand was shaking. It was very uncharacteristic of her. She pushed the glass towards me, and then swung back the bottle to her lips. I held onto the glass as I watched her chug our best wine. Pulling the bottle back, she winced and pursed her lips as she shook back the bitter taste.
"VIPs can also cost us more than they are worth," she looked at me through her narrow almond eyes. "You've only been here a year. You're not prepared for this."
"You know who it is who's coming," I stated, taking the glass and leaning back in the stool. "Is it a Hutt?"
That was the only explanation as to why she would be acting so uncharastically erratic. She took another long drink from the bottle, hand clutching the neck in a vice.
"I wish--."
"They've landed!!"
The shout from upstairs felt like it vibrated through the whole building. I hear the butt of the wine hit the counter, and I turn back to Demetra. Her eyes are glossed over, staring into empty space, as if she was lost in a memory or a thought. I was tempted to Mind Touch her again, but refrained. Once was enough.
"Go upstairs, and get everyone down here. I want all bodies available tonight."
"There are still clients in there--"
"Send them away," she took what remained of my wine -- which was a considerable amount -- downed it, and put the glass in the sink.
"They are not going to let me--"
Her grey eyes were suddenly on me like a snare trap, "Don't think I don't know what you do... That trick you do. I don't know what they call it back at Jedi Camp. But you know better than I how easily they are going to let you. And pay extra for it."
I grit my jaw as I breathed heavily through my nose.
There were four active jobs being done. Four Mind Touches at the same time. I've never done that many consecutively, and I worried over the possibility that I would lose the strength by the final one. I walked down to the doors with red lights hovering above them. Since my mother took over the business, the Whispering Eye had modern updates. Locks were replaced with bio readers, and lights indicated rooms being used. Business seemed to flourish under my mother's rule, especially in the past year since I came back. All the girls were now able to afford implants.
I slapped my hand on the first panel, lucking out as the door slid open to reveal the John doing up his shirt. They both startled when they saw me, but I ignored the man and looked over at the Togruta still naked on the bed.
"VIP approaching. Be downstairs in five," I said simply, and then looked over at her client. I waved my hand in front of his face, and his eyes turned cloudy. "You're going to leave a generous tip."
"I'm going to leave a generous tip," he parroted.
The other three weren't as easy. I had to intervene by dislodging the coupling, much to their chagrin. The girls were just as unpleased about it as the men were by my intervention, but the simple demand of them being down stairs for the VIP was easy to get the girls to comply. The men, obviously, took more convincing. By the time I reached the last door, I could feel my mind wane from exhaustion. I couldn't bother to give them further instructions other than to "pay and leave."
The clients were gone, and the lounge began to fill with all available girls. There were a total of 15, including myself, not including Demetra. There used to be more, but when Taz had passed away, many of the girls left. Not many approved of Demetra's changes, or Demetra herself.
The woman began fretting over everyone's attire and other superficial details. The girls that were still servicing their clients looked disheveled; I couldn't blame them, though my mother had no problem digging into them with vicious insults.
She held a wine bottle by the neck the entire time.
I walked through the crowd, intending to drop myself in a seat of pillows when I felt a hand grab my elbow, nails digging into my skin. She yanked me away, and began to pull me out of the room.
"What are you doing?" I demanded in confusion.
"You are going to go up in the attic until I tell you to come out."
"What?" I pulled myself from her grasp when we reached the threshold between the public area to the back. This gesture forced her to look at me. "I'm your best girl--"
"You are my daughter," the word felt alien on her tongue. She always treated me like property, and she's used the 'daughter' title many times before to drill in that fact. However this time it came out entirely different. It came out as protective. When her eyes widened at her own words, I could tell she was just as perplexed by what she said as I was. Demetra grit her jaw and grabbed my arm again, and yanked me towards the stairs. "You can't be here when they get here--"
But, she was too late. They were here.
The ding of the bell was soft and unassuming, but the moment it chimed a gust of wind rushed through, bringing the Force in like a billow of smoke. My entire body froze; my skin pimpled; the hair on the back of my head rose.
Seven figures filtered through the room, bigger and more menacing than the other. Cloaked, hooded, masked, and armed to the teeth. When the seventh man entered the building, the door closed behind him, the dim light settled, and all I could see were the bright red fissures marring the face of his smooth helmet.
"My oh, my," he spoke as he took a step into the sunken lounge, head pivoting around at all the girls that shrank away from the group of seven. "This place hasn't changed at all."
My mom's grip on me laxed, and she moved slowly, languidly even, to put me behind her.
"Ren," I heard her speak, voice above a whisper but it seemed to echo through the building.
"Demetra," the man purred, his voice slightly obscured by a modulator. His heavy footfalls creaked the hardwood floor as he approached the railing. I could hear a hiss and an unlatch, and saw from around my mother's shoulder the silver helmet being tossed onto a couch. Wavy silver hair pooled around the man's broad scarred shoulders.
I moved closer to my mother's back, peering over her shoulder. Immediately his cold blue eyes were on me, freezing me to stone.
And then I was a statue standing on fire and ruin, daisies falling from the sky and turning to ash.
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Author's Note:
Ren was the original leader of the Knights of Ren. He appears in the Rise of Kylo Ren origin graphic novel. His name is simply Ren, which is also the name of his Lightsaber. I will be explaining more about the Knights of Ren as the story goes along.
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