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“Come along, little Adi.”
“Yes, master.”
Sifo-Dyas led his padawan Khadira through the Temple gardens, weaving through the beautiful courtyard to reach the entrance to the Archives. A shortcut, Dooku had once called it. A long way for one anyways, Dyas bitterly thought to himself as he guided his young Chiss friend with a protective hand on the small of her back. Master Tiin offered a wave and Sifo-Dyas returned it with a smile. Civility, of course. He would’ve stayed and chatted if he did not have anywhere to be, so he pressed on and entered Dooku’s supposed shortcut.
The Archives at this time of the day were quiet, most Jedi off and training, only a few left to study by the computers. That would have to suffice, so long as he and Khadira found somewhere quiet enough to concentrate. Madame Jocasta would leave them to it, Dyas imagined, knowing full well that they were on good terms, that being on Jocasta’s bad side would be a death wish. He laughed bewilderedly when he first found out about Dooku’s love for her and now, now it seemed like second nature, as though Jocasta was a sister to him as Dooku was a brother. Yes, that is what they were. Dooku often entertained Khadira with such gossip, although never in front of Sifo-Dyas. He assumed he was too embarrassed to, but that wouldn’t stop the giddy nine year old coming to tell her master all about the old lovebirds. Dyas would never tell Dooku though, he didn’t want to crush that sacred bond of theirs. Even still, his heart had sung when he discovered that Dooku had been babysitting Khadira while Dyas had been busy with Council matters; she was truly growing on him.
He led Khadira to an isolated desk and pulled out a chair for her to sit upon, which she immediately did and thus he joined her, eyes darting about. Everyone was minding their own business — good. He took Khadira’s hands into his own and looked her in the eyes, seeing her expression change in a matter of moments. “What’s wrong, master?”
“Nothing, nothing is wrong, little one. It-it is time we talk about that n-nightmare of yours you had the other day.”
“Did Master Kostana tell you?” She asked, eyes wide. Dyas had no idea that was meant to be in confidence. His old master had her ways. “I told her not to say anything to you…” She seemed dejected at best.
“No, no, no, it is not Master Kostana’s fault. Y-You know what she can get like,” he said, trying to defuse the situation. Khadira was prone to mood swings, this he had learned in the first months of apprenticing her. Whether it was a Chiss thing or a Khadira thing, he had yet to find that out. But he had been able to learn the subtle ways to avoid such a fate, and that was to reassure his young friend whenever he could. And right now, that’s exactly what he needed to do. “She had told me because it startled her when you told her.”
“Oh,” was all Sifo-Dyas got in return.
“Say, we may be here for a moment and I already had a ch-chat with Master Sinube, meaning you won’t have to attend his law class today. He will catch you up to speed on Primeday.”
“Yes, master.”
He noticed the frown coming from his padawan, which was not a great start for this discussion, “Shall we get you a drink? Something to eat? A cushion?”
“Just water, please.”
A moment passed and Khadira had her water, with Sifo-Dyas facing her and giving her his full undivided attention. “Alright, Adi, st-start from the top. What did you see?”
Khadira’s eyes dropped to her feet, then up to her master’s. “You were there, at that foot of the Council’s doors. I think they’d given you a mission and sent you away. Then it was dark, like a ship’s engine rumbling. And then it got brighter and there was fire. But nothing happened to you.”
He listened to every word she said and considered what on Coruscant had she foreseen. But by the inclination in her voice, Dyas had gathered that Khadira had more to share. So he wouldn’t interrupt.
“It was empty and dusty and quiet too, and then there was a hum of a lightsaber. I believe it was Master Plo aboard what I think is a wreckage,” Khadira released her hands from his and sat up a little straighter, “It’s weird though, master. I’ve had this one before and what I saw was scarier then. Why is it different now? What happened to make it all change?”
Dyas appreciated that inquisitive mind and folded his arms in thought, wondering how to deliver such wisdom, “Perhaps,” he started, “the ti-tides of fate may sway in motion, but it is what causes the ripple to disrupt that ever flowing motion.”
“Come again?”
“Though things seem set in st-stone, sometimes the Force has other things in m-mind. Not all visions are to be true.”
“That’s what Master Yoda said about them too, but you and Master Kostana always tell me that—“
“It is different with our visions,” they replied in unison. Khadira’s eyes sharpened and she resumed that dejected look, sulking down into her seat, clearly baffled.
“Khadira,” Dyas started, “don’t ever start to doubt your visions. You are truly gifted with the-the Force and always will be. What you see cannot create a tidal wave, only ripples. Do you un-understand? A slight, only so small difference in your vision doesn’t m-make it any less true. It is how we interpret it that matters.”
She looked up at him again, tired this time. He understood full well, for he had been her shoes many times. Lene Kostana was a gentle teacher, but her visions training was strict and to-the-point. The Council couldn’t know, hell, the Order couldn’t know. A secret to be taken to each of their graves, a three-way pact between them. Lene had always reaffirmed Dyas to keep his ability hidden, but to use it too to predict any coming dangers; it was harder than it seemed. Sometimes no one would believe him, sometimes they would. The age old excuse that it came to him in a vision or that the Force told him was going to get old, real soon. Khadira had a more creative approach, by forging documents or ancient texts that come of a life-changing prophecy. If Lene found out that she was doing that however, Dyas was unsure what end of the stick he’d get after that. He’d always sworn to go easier on Khadira, for it was a burden heavy for a nine-year-old to carry, especially one of her circumstances. Sifo-Dyas remembered it vividly.
Khadira’s voice had snapped him back into reality.
“So it is true then. What’s going to happen to you?”
“Only you know the answer to that, little one.”
She rubbed her eyes and took a few deep breaths, fighting back the wave of emotion. Sifo-Dyas felt a strain in their Force bond and wavered internally at the thought of it. Khadira knew he was going to die, or at least come close to it. He’d have to calm her down — quickly. “Adi, Adi, come here, come to me.” He told her, being as gentle as possible, arms outstretched. She wasted no time and was within his embrace, head burying into his robes, a tiny sniffle coming from her. Dyas rested his shaky hand upon her crown and stroked it, fingers nestling into curly locks. “There, there’s no-nothing to be afraid of. I’m here now, aren’t I?”
Khadira nodded into him and only buried herself deeper, a strangled sob making its way out of her. She had already lost so much, Dyas understood why she’d break at the thought of him dying. He hugged her tighter, giving her that physical care she needed, only reassurance in his stuttering voice, “Adi, everyone leaves to the Cosmic Force even-eventually. What you s-saw might be decades into the future, years beyond us. You needn’t worry now, young one. And instead, spend that time with the ones y-you love.”
It seemed like it got through to her, because she pulled away from the embrace and wiped at her tear-ridden cheeks with the pad of her palm. “You really mean that?”
“Always,” he took her other hand and cradled it within his. Khadira sniffled some more, now seemingly aware of her state and where she was. She hated crying in public, it was something she desperately tried to avoid. She called it a thing of weakness, that Chiss never should let such emotions show, never mind in front of people. Dyas wouldn’t try and change her mind set, but at the very least he would show her that it is okay to cry. She still had such a long way to go and he would be there every step of the way.
“Okay,” Khadira replied and she sat upon her chair after Dyas released her hand.
A quiet moment surrounded them, the Archives silent for a still second, only to have students flood the halls. Classes must’ve been over. Khadira instantly stiffened up in her seat as Sifo-Dyas took note of this. “Follow me, Adi,” he told her in a hush as they both left off through the many eager Jedi. They left and broke off to the side, right through Dooku’s shortcut.
“How are you feeling?” Dyas asked his companion, to which he gained a prompt nod.
“I’m fine now, thank you, master,” Khadira smiled in response.
They stood in the middle of the Gardens, Master Tiin nowhere to be seen, he must’ve had better things to do. Sifo-Dyas was about to speak when his comm pinged with a call. Khadira looked to him and silently urged that he answer it. So he did. “Hello?”
“Si, my old friend,” Dooku’s dull voice sounded over the comms, “How are you today?”
Khadira slumped to the grass beneath her and leaned on her elbows. Did she really think he’d spend all day on a call to Dooku? He wanted to laugh but decided against it. “Hello, Dooku. I-I am fine, thank you. How m-might you be?”
“Good, yes.”
Dyas caught a glimpse of Khadira rolling her red eyes. “I see th-this isn’t the nature of your call alone, is it?”
“You are correct, this is not a social call, more less an invitation.” Ah, so that’s what he called for. Dooku could always be so cryptic.
“An invitation to what exactly? And at this hour?”
“My padawan insists we take his padawan out for ice cream. What say you? Interested?”
Khadira perked up at this, pleading her master with her eyes alone.
How could he say no to a face like that? Sifo-Dyas caved and smiled over the comms, “Very well, we shall meet at th-the foot of the Temple’s stairs. You and Obi-Wan best n-not be late,” he teased, spying out of the corner of his eye that Khadira was grinning.
“Not if we get there first, Master Sifo-Dyas.”
“We shall see, Master Dooku.”
They hung up and immediately, before Dyas even had time to react, Khadira was bolting off through the Gardens, careful not to crush any foliage. He was utterly left in the dust. A chuckle and soon he was on his way to catch up, gripping ahold of his lightsaber so it didn’t swing around haphazardly. Always so quick, that one, he’d think to himself. Not a day went by where Sifo-Dyas regretted following his vision of a stranded little girl aboard an alien ship. It was fated that they’d meet and fated that he would teach her his ways. She was extremely young for a padawan and far too old to be a new initiate, but seeing as she no longer had her family, Dyas knew that teaching wouldn’t be as tough as he imagined. She had let go of her attachments the moment she was bathed and fed, given a warm bed and shelter. Well, at least that’s what Dyas told himself. Khadira sometimes stared longingly out of viewports and windows, perhaps wondering how her people were doing, or yearning for another life. It took months to get her to open up about her life as a sky-walker and she told only Lene and Dyas, not even Master Yoda. He didn’t need to know, Khadira said to him when he’d asked about telling the elder Jedi. He hadn’t questioned any further. He was perhaps the only Jedi in the entire Temple who knew about the Chiss Ascendancy thanks to Khadira. Why was it that their bond was built on a mound of secrets? He often wondered that whenever he’d wake up from a blood-curdling vision, coated in a cold sweat from head to toe.
This life wasn’t easy and that wouldn’t change then. But at least he could make it bearable for little Plikh’adi’razna. His guiding light. His daughter.
And then they’d go out for ice cream together.