Chapter Text
Arcann observed his son while standing in an unlit corner of the meditation room in his home, in the middle of the night.
Earlier that day, Kalos was practicing his telekinetics with his older sister Dayna. He had gone at it for hours, refusing to take a break for even a second, but any objects he tried to move stayed agonizingly still. It had eventually culminated in all the objects exploding when Kalos suddenly left in silent fury and locked himself in his room. Akgana had tried to console him, but to no avail.
“He’s very much like you, dear.” Akgana had said afterwards to Arcann. “His determination knows no bounds.”
“Too much like me. If he continues like this, letting his anger fuel his determination, it will hurt him.”
And so, on a feeling, Arcann had stood waiting in the meditation room. His hunch was confirmed a few minutes ago when the door slowly slid open. Kalos, two hours after his usual bedtime, had sneaked into the room.
The nebula surrounding Odessen cast a mosaic of dim light through the wall-length windows, a long shadow forming behind Kalos’s small frame. Although, Arcann always felt that his son grew several centimeters taller every day. At that supposed rate, Kalos would be as tall as him by next week.
Kalos was seated on the matted floor. His legs were crossed, his hands interlaced on his lap. The pose resembled picture-perfect peace, but his face was scrunched in exertion. Sweat beads collected on his forehead and neck, staining his pajamas. In front of him laid a heavy stone—supposed to be used as a decorative piece. Arcann felt Kalos’s Force presence reaching out, trying to envelop itself around the stone. While powerful for his age, it was formless and chaotic—not suitable for controlled levitation. Kalos’s anger started to flare with each failed attempt, causing his presence to be even more disorganized. Deciding that this was enough, Arcann flicked on the lights.
Kalos flinched as the room instantly brightened. “Father—I…I didn’t know you were here.” His neat meditative pose broke as he slouched over in disappointment.
Arcann knelt down next to Kalos, his hand carding through his son’s short brown hair. “Why are you not asleep, son.”
“I want to keep practicing. I need to be able to levitate this.”
“Kalos. What you need is sleep.”
Kalos’s emerald green eyes hardened with annoyance. “I know I can do it. I’ve done it before. I just can’t control when I do it.”
“Control will come with time and rest—”
“But Dayna said she could do this when she was even younger than me!”
“Your sister was younger, but it also took months before she could consistently do it. You will hurt yourself if you continue like this. Especially if you’re levitating stones unsupervised.”
Kalos brooded over something as he stared at the stone, its stillness agitating him.
Arcann gently hugged Kalos to his side. “Why do you feel you need to levitate the stone?”
“So I can be strong and powerful. Like everyone expects me to be.”
Memories of himself at his son’s current age flashed in Arcann’s vision. The unending drive to get stronger. The eradication of all vulnerability. The corruption of determination into something destructive—something that didn’t care about the collateral damage. His younger self feared how cold Valkorion was, with those empty eyes and that turned back at his failures and even his successes. No matter how much he worked and sacrificed—sacrificed of himself and of others—he was never enough. At the time he hadn’t noticed how much his resentment of his father’s disregard had poisoned him, until it was far too late. Until he had destroyed his brother, countless others, and nearly himself. Shaking away old memories, Arcann refocused on the present.
His children shouldered a difficult legacy—from both parents. From their father—a death toll in the millions, billions if including their other brutal ancestors, and a lifetime of atonement for that fact. It certainly wasn’t their responsibility to amend his own wrongs, but he felt his shadow looming over them all the same. From their mother—the unrelenting responsibility to be a shining symbol of strength and peace, only being able to show uncertainty and weakness in private. Never failing lest the people following her lose confidence in their cause.
It was both completely different and very similar to his own upbringing. Arcann would have given anything to provide them with a more carefree childhood. An impossible dream he and Akgana shared was to pack up their family and move to some undiscovered planet where no war could ever reach them. But perhaps that was a selfish desire. He still had so much to atone for, and she had a responsibility to the galaxy.
Arcann realized he had stayed silent for a while. He tried to gather all his thoughts into a few sentences. “It is expected of you, for the Alliance. But for me, all you need to be is my son. I see how earnest you are, and that is enough for me.”
“But don’t you want me to become stronger?”
“Of course. You should always work towards self-improvement. And I’m proud of you for working so hard and for how much you’ve already grown. But I need you to remember…when anger is its fuel, determination only destroys.”
Kalos squinted in thought for several moments. Finally, he nodded and nestled his head underneath Arcann’s chin. Father and son stayed in peaceful silence for a few minutes, before Kalos started to fall asleep. Arcann stood up, carrying Kalos in his arms. Kalos usually didn’t like it when Arcann did this, asserting how he wasn’t a toddler anymore and therefore was too old to be carried. But this time, he was too sleepy and snuggled closer. By the time Arcann tucked him in, he was already sound asleep.
Returning to his own room, Arcann collapsed onto the bed in exhaustion. Akgana looked up from the datapad she was reading and rubbed his arm in comfort.
War was easier than children. Still, Arcann was determined to be the best father he could be.