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No. Not Vildar. Not today.
Those words, some of Tey’s last, are all that are ringing in Vildar’s mind as he sits on the cold stone ground of a ruined Jedi vault with the Sephi lifeless in his arms.
Perhaps this is the fate of Vildar Mac; to always be left abandoned by the Force as death reigns down around him, snuffing out those he cares for while he is helpless but to watch.
To Hell with the Force.
He’ll scream it over and over and over, until the stream of breath runs dry in his lungs.
Looking across the chamber at Werth Plouth, Vildar is only able to laugh sardonically. With one Jedi laying dead and calcified and another swearing off the Force for as long as he lives, it seems the man succeeded in the cruel endeavors that he carried with him like a plague to Jedha.
The Herald is not dead. It seems the Force was only able to deliver one miracle today, and if such a life is who it chooses to preserve then perhaps the Path of the Open Hand were right to admonish the Jedi for ever calling on it’s light.
All Vildar can do is sit and rock a body that was once so vibrant with life and brimming with hope, trying and failing to not get swept away by the unyielding silence all around him.
He doesn’t register Oliviah’s presence at his side until a gentle hand is placed upon his shoulder.
When he turns to the young Jedi Knight it is with every intention of telling her that platitudes and meditations are a useless endeavor, but he stops when he sees the determination burning within her eyes.
The pain and purpose of someone much older ring in her voice as she she says, “The Force hasn’t forsaken us yet, Vildar.”
Her gaze is set on Tey, still cradled to Vildar’s chest, the Jedi not willing to part with him.
Her hand moves from its place on his shoulder to rest in the tuft of white hair adorning Tey’s head, now looking to Vildar with the same resolve.
“The Force is with me. It is with you. We must will it to be with Tey, now.”
She makes it sound so simple. But then, perhaps it can be. When Tey had first danced into Vildar’s life, it had taken the Sephi literally stopping his heart for Vildar to realize that he can no longer be prisoner to his fear.
That is what Plouth and the rest of his ilk would want. They would shout in elation at the sight of a Jedi Master refusing to even try to protect life because he allows his fear to be his guide.
He meets Oliviah’s gaze, and together, they call on the Force.
They could be shouting, or completely silent. All Vildar knows for certain is that one moment, he and Oliviah seem to be the only two living and breathing souls on the Pilgrim’s Moon, working in tandem to pull Tey back into the safety of the omnipresent light of the Force.
The next moment, a quiet gasp sounds out into the chamber around them, and the wave of emotion from both he and Oliviah at the sound is blinding and brilliant.
The Jedi keeps his tight hold upon Tey, nearly bathing him in his tears, and decides that there is nothing in this life he enjoys more than the Sephi’s laughter when he croaks out a chuckle, reaching for the comm hanging on Vildar’s belt.
“Don’t ignore your calls on my account, drydak.”
There is so much Vildar both wants and needs to say to Tey, this miracle of a being somehow smiling back at him, bruised and beaten but still gloriously alive.
A crackling voice over his comm and an expectant stare from Oliviah remind him of himself, and he’s once again overcome with relief when he hears Matty’s voice over the line.
“Vildar? Can you hear me?”
His voice is haggard, but he hopes Matty can glean some comfort in his response, “I’m here, Matty. Are you alright.”
Her response is as vibrant as Vildar has come to know the padawan to be, “I’m alright. The droids have stopped firing. We were able to hold The Enlightenment. I believe the battle is at an end.”
One thing about cheating death is that Vildar Mac is never any less surprised when he does it. A few more tears escape his eyes as they settle back on Tey, still clinging to the Jedi’s robes. Another thing about cheating death is that Tey won’t be alone in the aftermath. Vildar will be there, thankful for every moment he has been given.
In all his years serving the order, he has never quite had an answer when asked how he sees the Force. He knows many Jedi see beauty in its ubiquity.
He never has. Until now. It surrounds him.
As he looks to Oliviah, he recognizes her sharp wit within it. He can feel it in the steady stream of words falling from Matty’s lips, buzzing across the comm like music, and he vows never to complain about her chattery disposition again.
He can feel the Force like a shield around him as he looks at Tey, recognizing safety in those purple eyes.
The Force is his ragtag little family, worn but still blessedly whole; It is the entirety of Jedha itself, already stirring back to life as its people take to the streets, singing songs of unity to drown out the aftermath of such violent division. The Force means never again being alone. Vildar intends to follow the Force for all of his days.