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Chapter Text

Her stride was impeccable as she made her way to the apothecary, footfalls sure and grounded as her purple cloak seemed to sway with the movement. He could feel his heart thrum in his chest, its crazed heartbeat echoing in his ears. It had been sixteen years since he had last seen her, back then when she was only a girl with a firm will and untrustful eyes. He had seen her fall into a pit, having failed at saving both twins and following Indara’s advice when they decided on a shared truth. He wondered what he would see when she turned around, when her eyes fell on his again.

“Mae” his voice cut through the empty street, causing Mae to stop in her tracks. It had been so long since he had uttered the word, nothing but a thought in all of his meditations. Anticipation taking hold of him, watching as a her heel gave a slow turn. Her breath hitched, the only uncovered thing was her eyes; shinning bright and brown in pure shock. “You survived.”

He was torn between the immediate relief that she was alive, that now he finally had a chance to redeem himself. He could start by trying to turn her away from her chosen path of destruction. But instead, the image of Indara laying cold and dead with a knife to her chest crossed through his mind. The motionless body of Torbin merely a day ago, his colleagues and friends, with who he had shared meals and jokes. “You killed Indara, Torbin-”

The words cut short by a knife landing inches from his boot. A warning.

Yet he braced himself, easing his breaths when she lunged forward. A kick that would’ve struck across his face had he not caught her heel, holding tightly as his fingers wrapped around the cold leather. She twirled out of his grasp, lifting into the air as she found her footing again. Sol had no intention of hurting her, avoiding all her fists and tugs, sidestepping when her legs flashed out to make him drop. The more he dodged, the more frustrated she grew. Her cries and puffs underneath her mask, hiding the snarl that was sure to be found there. With every turn and pull he managed to slip her knives off her body, blocking her punches with his arm braces until she was forced to take a step back.

“Your Master, tell me. Who trained you?”

Curiosity taking his better judgment, letting his guard down for a split second as she managed a low blow to his chest. His breath leaving him, a cough emanating as he swatted her leg away with force, causing Mae to fall to the ground with a heavy thud. A hint of remorse hit him. She quickly recovered, standing and tugging her mask off. Her face was nothing like Osha’s; while yes, they shared the same features, there was a different air in her scowl. Nose scrunching and eyes sharp, seeming like a feral cat ready to attack. Her cloak long forgotten in the dirt, locs swaying as they circled each other, her sleeves rolled to her elbows.

“If you turn yourself in, I could manage a pardon.” He called. “You could be reunited with your sister after all these years.”  

That made her stop her pacing, her stance solid like a lonely stone. Her face fell, coursing from anger to sadness, eyes watering as unshed tears glimmered in her eyeline. Sol had only been in Mae’s presence for about 20 minutes and yet, he was now so familiar with the enraged face reserved only for him. 

“My sister is dead!” her cry so broken and hurt, he unconsciously tried to reach for her with the force, taken aback by the overwhelming pit of heat and shards. The broken spirit of Mae-ho Anisya.

He willed tenderness into his words, “Osha is alive.”

For a split second the heat seemed to dissipate, returning with full force when she yelled. “You lie!”

She lunged again, only this time she aimed at his face with nothing but her bare hands. Blocking the hit as he wrapped his fingers on her forearm, restraining the blow when a pitch burn spiked through his hand. Without meaning to, he let go of Mae, too shocked from the pain to notice she had fallen to the ground, gripping her forearm as a chocked sob escaped her lips.

“What is it, Master?” Yord’s voice next to him, alarmed.

In an instant, his vision blurred and changed. He was no longer himself, instead he was wrapped in the arms of a woman, his tongue tasting of sweet cream and warm spice. His laughter wasn’t his own, it was light and childlike. It wasn’t until he lifted his face that he saw who was cradling him -or more her-. For Mother Aniseya held Mae, her fingers digging into Mae’s rib as she cracked into another laugh. And just like a slap, he was brought back to the present.

All he could do was stare at the bright red mark in the center of his palm, the edges plump and throbbing over his skin. He tried not to think of the vision, preferring to inspect the wound. He traced the mark with his finger, the wedge hot to the touch as an immense pain shot through him. Turning involuntarily, he spot Mae holding back her tears as she outlined her own mark on her forearm. The shape was the same splatter as if a drop of hot oil had fallen on their skin. The sudden realization hitting him like a slap to the face.

“No.”

“What have you done to me, Jedi!” A flare of fury in her eyes, the anger replicating in Sol.

In his studies, it was said that when the soul-bond took place, one would be able to see a symbolic vision of the other. Ranging from happiest to saddest memory, something mundane or something traumatic. He swallowed, wondering what had Mae seen in return.

The words were failing him, immobile as Yord approached Mae and lifted her with a yank.

“Don’t touch her!” The threat coming naturally, a possessive nature overtaking him. He'd almost stomped towards Yord and pushed him away had he not controlled himself.

“Master, I must apprehend her or she’ll-” his word cut short when he realized what kind of mark adorned Mae’s forearm. “Ah.”

A bright light illuminated the street, Jecki’s words echoing as he took the handcuffs from Yord and approached Mae. Immediately as in response, he felt a surge of disgust and animosity in his gut, her eyes hard and unyielding as he placed each cuff on her wrists. He made sure to not touch her skin, fearful that another mark would appear. 

“You’re coming back with us to Coruscant.”

She tugged on the restrain, eyes darting for a near exit.

“Where’s Osha, you liar?”

He decided to test the bond, knowing only the basic things that conveyed their union. The possibility of sensing one’s truth in their soulmate’s words was nothing more but a myth to him.

“Osha is alive.” He felt her spark of hope as vibrant as a twin sun. “Now you know I’m no liar.”

She scoffed, her response halted when Osha emerged from a corner. Her eyes wide and indifferent, gazing at Mae only once before returning her attention to Sol.

“You did it. I’ll tell Jecki to lower the ship.”

“Oshie?” Mae’s voice nothing but a mere whisper when Osha disappeared again.

The weight of Mae’s sadness crashed on Sol, a deep despair that turned his senses blue. The need to comfort her kept on growing by the minute, reaching out to touch her force signature like a mere graze.

“Stop doing that!” she shrieked.

“Forgive me.” The words tumbling like second nature, feeling his cheeks flare up under Yord’s watchful gaze.

“Let’s get moving.”

It was expected for Sol to lead the way to the ship, yet he stayed back, watching as Mae stumbled on her feet multiple times. She was trying to trick Yord into seeming weak and frail, a thing that didn’t work now that he could read her emotions like a report in a datapad. When he pressed a palm to her back she flinched, jumping away, closer to Yord as if he might protect her from him. The indifference stung him, aware that the person his soul had decided to bond with, was afraid and hated him.

When they reached the ship, he watched as Yord led Mae to the galley, her eyes frantic as she scanned every inch of the ship. Immediate happiness on her face when Jecki and Osha emerged, her thrashing intensifying as she tugged her bands from the metal along the wall.

“Osha! You’re alive! All these years I’ve thought-”

“If you don’t mind Sol, I’d rather stay. After all, my job here is done.” Her tone was clipped, her gaze never straying from the blank spot behind his head. There was no need for a special bond with Osha to know she was restraining herself from lunging at Mae. Their talk from before returning to mind as he had warned her that grief could easily turn to revenge.

He was no longer her Master, but yet the need to teach her one last lesson remained when he addressed her. “Come with us to Coruscant, let us thank you for the aid.” He hoped to have her for little longer, having missed her ever since she left the Order. He would never admit of his attachment to Osha, but seeing her after so long, he could not deny the warmth in his heart at seeing her well.

“I’m sure Master Vernestra can supply you with some credits for the help,” added Jecki, a small smile on her face as she prodded. “And what about some buttersweat puffs while you’re there?”

Sol could feel Mae’s agitation in his gut, his wrists beginning to ache at the harsh pulls she’d been inflicting at her own. Osha gave Jecki a polite smile, turning her back to the galley as she sure felt Mae’s eyes prodding at her.

“That sounds nice, but I wouldn’t-”

“Why are you ignoring me? Why are you siding with these criminals? These murderers?” interrupted Mae, a slight crack in her voice when Osha turned abruptly to face her.

Sol barely had time to intercept, watching like a ghost as Osha took hold of Mae’s collar and yanked her against the wall. Shock drawn all over Mae’s face, confusion and bewilderment as a few locs fell over her forehead, the white spiral shinning under the white light.

“You’re the only murderer here! It was you who killed our family!”

“What are you talking about?”

He tried to tug her away, her anger clear with every harsh breath she took. It was when she gripped Mae’s forearms that Osha let go, her eyes falling to the red mark.

“When did this happen?”

Even though she was asking Mae, it was Sol who opened his palm. Their twin marks shinning bright and new.  

“But the gloves should’ve blocked you from bonding?”

There was a slight edge in her voice, almost as if the situation was hurting her as much as Mae. Before he could respond, it was Jecki who approached them, one hand extended his way: the leather gloves neat and pristine, almost as if mocking him for being so stupid.

“He took them off for lunch and forgot to put them on.”

He pulled the fabric over his hands, feeling the cool leather upon the new scar. His head was a jumble of thoughts, crashing emotions coming from Mae and his own repressed feelings at the revelation of his soul-bond. When he was young and had learned of the natural course of the force, tangling souls and auras into one another. He had been the most eager of the group, anxious to find the person with whom he could sync and connect. His excitement soon crushed when Vernestra gifted him his first set of gloves; soulmate bonds were taboo to the Jedi, and thus their skin should always be protected in case one came near their chosen one.

He had abided by that rule his entire life, fighting the edge to give in and ease the cry of his soul. Sol had thought that by the time he reached an older age, the pull to form that bond would dissipate, and yet now that he knew who his soul had been calling to all those years, he was desperate to ignore it.

“The sooner we get to Coruscant, the better.” he turned to Jecki, hoping she would get the cue.

“Absolutely, Master. She’ll not leave my sight.”

He exhaled, his chest compressing when he felt Mae’s shot of confusion. He was halfway out of the room when he heard her cry echo, heart pounding faster in his chest.

“Where are you going? Osha! Osha, look at me!”

Footsteps rooted by the door, swallowing the hurt and anger when Osha’s flash of red locs walked past him, stare distant and enraged.

As soon as the high peaks of the Jedi temple came to view, he willed his body to relax. Soon it would all be over: Mae would be taken into confinement, he hoped that Osha would stay in the city and learn to forgive her sister. He on the other side, would rectify his vow of knighthood and reject the soul-bond. It was a customary procedure, something the few Jedi who managed to find their companion had to do. Soon, he could put everything from the mission behind him.  

When the ship’s doors opened, they were greeted by the presence of Master Vernestra and her shadow in the shape of Mog Adana. Sol watched as her stern face shifted immediately to Mae, satisfied to see her in handcuffs.

“Master Sol, glad to see you all made it back safely.” She took a step closer, inspecting Mae as the girl sneered. “And you’ve captured the murderer.”

Sol didn’t like the use of the word, especially as it was directed to Mae. It implied that she liked doing such harm, that she was nothing but a mischievous being. He tried to remind himself that she did kill Indara, that they had been too late to stop her from poisoning Torbin. A memory from sixteen years ago snapping into his mind, the image of Osha begging Mae to stop hurting a flutterby, the scene rooting him behind the trunk he was hiding. Yes, Mae was always the abrasive twin. The girl that had been so eager to join her clan of witches, it was natural for her to incur in such acts of ferocity.

Suddenly the world around him turned to night, the ship morphing into the dark fortress on Brendok. A cry echoing in his ears, the sharp tone cutting right through him as he looked into the blinding light of his lightsaber.

‘I was going to let Osha go.’ Mother Aniseya’s pained whisper in his ear. Her pitch black eyes returning to their natural state, the gaze of a mother who had failed to protect its child. Protect them from him.

He blinked hard, coming back to his senses, turning to look at Mae only to find her gaze alredy on him; eyes cold and almost black like in the vision.

“Sol?” Vernestra’s voice dragging him out of the haze.

He cleared his throat, feeling it dry as parchment. He tried several times and yet no words came out, making an uncomfortable air lift through the group.  Thankfully, Yord appeared to his left, blocking his peripheral vision from searching Mae.

“We unfortunately got there too late; she managed to murder Master Torbin. It was only with Osha’s help that we managed to trap the criminal and get her under Jedi custody.” 

In an instant, Osha was object of scrutiny by Vernestra and Mog, an eyebrow lifted as she approached his old padawan.

“We thank you for your support and aid in this mission, it must not have been an easy thing.”

Osha simply shrugged, offering a small smile.

“It was an honor to help the Jedi as they once helped me.”

“Turning in your own sister is not something to take lightly, which is why the Jedi Order thanks you.” She placed a hand on Osha’s shoulder, giving a light squeeze. A sparkle illuminated in Osha's eyes, the mention of serving the Order stirring the locked enthusiasm of her padawan years. A tremble coursed through Sol, the image so similar to when he first handed his lightsaber to her.

“Help you? They tore you away! They killed our Coven!” Mae’s sharp words cutting the scene, her voice hoarse almost as if in the verge of tears.

Sol forced his eyes on Osha, resisting the newfound urge to console the wounded part of him merely feet away.

“Take the prisoner away, make sure she remains guarded at all times.”

Jecki tugged Mae towards the exit, avoiding her elbow each time she trashed in her grip. Mae fought and sneered, eyes wild and breath agitated. It was only when Osha approached that she seemed to calm.

“Osha,” the word was a plea in his mouth, afraid of losing her all over again. “are you sure?”

She turned slightly, “I won’t be at peace until I see her in a cell.”

He understood the need, an anger Osha had never been able to let go of. He hoped that this could be a beginning, one where she finally reached her serenity and learned to extricate the grief from her heart. He watched as they disappeared inside the temple, acknowledging that he still had an issue to fix.

“Master, there is something I must discuss with you. It is of urgent matter.” 

Vernestra nodded, her brow furrowing in concern. “Let’s go inside, shall we.”

He bid Yord to return to his duties and followed Vernestra down the halls into a small room with wide windows. The office was as plain as the many other rooms in the Temple, simple monotone walls and little to no décor safe for the two chairs in front of him.

“What is it, Sol? Did something else happen on the mission?”

Sol couldn’t help but wring his hands together, tugging on the leather of his gloves as the bond mark began to itch. Taking a deep breath he tried to find the words to express his current situation.

“There was incident that happened before we could apprehend Mae. She fought me and I realized only too late that I wasn’t wearing my protective gloves.” Realization drew across Vernestra’s face, her lips tightly pressed as she listened. “A soulmate bond has appeared between us.”

“You and Mae,” she gripped the seat, the words surely sounding as absurd as they did to him. “Well, this most certainly makes the whole ordeal much more complicated.”

“I am aware that the circumstances are not what we expected, and I understand there is a protocol to be followed.”

“Indeed, indeed.”

She lifted from the seat, slipping her hands against her robe as she circled him. The mere act put Sol on edge; he hadn’t really thought he would ever have to renew his knighthood vow. The thought of finding his soulmate was nothing but an afterthought at his age.

“We can conduct a small ceremony. Give me a few weeks to summon a few members of the Jedi Council, just enough to bear witness. In the mean time, it’d be best if you stay as far away as possible from Mae; the less the two of you interact, the swifter the rejection will be.”

Sol nodded, the mention of Mae stinging in his gut, caressing the fear and sadness in the back of his mind that now belonged to his soulmate. From what he knew of the ceremony, he would have to place a wall against Mae’s feelings while a fellow knight would sear the soul-bond mark with the tap of a drawn saber. While it would not terminate the bond between them, it would simply null the intensity of the emotions through the link. It would be enough to minimize the rise of feelings, letting them both live without the need for the other.

But, as he stood there, his mind would constantly circle back to Osha. The cold of her rejection on Mae was seeping to his bones, crushing his torax as he sensed his soulmate's dispair. The one thing he could do, was try and persuade Vernestra into letting Osha stay in the temple. Maybe if he talked to her for a while longer, he could mend their broken kinship. He knew it was a fool's errand and yet he conjured the words.

“Master Vernestra, I was wondering if it could be possi-”

“No, Sol.” She cut him short, extending a hand to stop his words. “I know what you will ask and the answer is no.”

“But-”

“You can’t close a bond with a twin only to form it again with the other.”

Vernestra’s cold eyes shut him up, forcing some ‘sense’ into him. Even though he tried, he just didn't seem able to save both twins.

“You can return to you post now, Jedi.”

The dismissal seeming more like a kick to the stomach as the doors opened with a swipe of her hand. Giving a small tilt of the head he exited the office, heading towards the common rooms where he hoped to find the one person who could ease his mind.

When he found her she was tying the strings of her bag, seemingly on her way out. Sol knew he had nothing to offer her in order to stay, their journey had come to an end now that Mae had been imprisoned. Yet, he felt sadness at the thought of watching her leave the temple once again. A part of him wanted to keep her close for when he inevitably had to face Mae, when the time to disclose the bond came. Yet, he watched from the doorframe.

“I was hoping you wouldn’t be back until sundown.” She muttered, not turning back to look at him.

He cleared his throat, feeling the warm familiarity between them. “Hoping to leave without a word, again?”

That’s when she turned, a small smirk tugging her lips.

“Yeah, something like that.”

He let the silence fall, hoping that if he stayed still, all could be as it once was. But Sol knew, he knew that their connection was long past gone, transfixed and damaged from their change in journey. So he spoke, nulling the ache of emotions that were foreign to him.

“I talked to Master Vernestra, your help was the most substantial for this mission. She wanted to let you know that-” his words slowing, recognizing the sharp light in her eyes: big and round like an expecting child. “-that, you are welcome to stay in the Temple while you find yourself another form of employment. A safer one.”

And in a blink of an eye, that light was gone. Replaced by a vacant stare that looked at anything but him.

“It’s fine. I already got some jobs in line. It’s best that I get going.”

She made an attempt to walk past him but he intercepted, forcing her to step back and look at him.

“What about Mae? Have you gone to her?”

Osha shook her head, gaze falling. “I can’t look at her without feeling like this anger will consume me.” A breath. “It’s best if I let myself think she died with the rest of our family.”

Sol knew that Osha’s inner conflict would only grow the longer she stored it in the back of her mind; growing mold until it rot everything in reach. He couldn’t let her succumb to the sadness of grief, especially when it entailed revenge. Especially when he knew her anger was misplaced, his own guilt and grief coming to the surface as he reached for her hand, squeezing gently as he tried to place his mind.

“Osha, there is much you don’t know. Don’t hold this anger on your sister, she is the last remnant of your family. Take some days to meditate on your emotions, find the compassion in your heart.” He gave her hand a last squeeze, letting go of it as he headed for the exit, hoping that she would take his advice and forgive Mae.

“Compassion, the one thing I had an inordinate amount of. Compassion for my fellow colleagues, for the animals in the street, for the people in the cold.” He heard the rasp of her voice, almost at the edge of laughter. It made him turn; worry drawn on his face as he watched fresh tears slide down her cheeks. “Yet, I find it so hard to find an ounce of that compassion for Mae. There is just so much hurt and rancor in me, that it blinds the sisterly love I should have for her.”

It was then that he fully realized just how unfit Osha was for the Jedi Order, her feelings too bright and sharp, almost like a lashing. Sol’s own guilt rising like bile in his throat, the lie he had repeated over the years, again and again echoing in his ears Will you rob the child of the dream that was promised? Will you destroy her with the truth? Indara’s voice booming, growing louder and louder as he felt the words on his lips. In the end, nothing of what he did had truly mattered. He had lied and blamed Mae. And in the end, Osha had left the order, just as she was doing right then.

“That night in Brendok, I made a mistake. I thought I was protecting you: you and Mae, and all I did was fail you. Not only then but also now, I’ve let Mae carry an anger that has caused nothing but destruction. This lie needs to stop.”

For the first time in what felt centuries to him, he was at peace with the idea of telling Osha the truth of that night. That if he confessed right that moment, maybe the path to forgiveness would be much easier for her. He opened his heart and reached out into the Force, expecting to find Osha’s familiar signature, but what he found instead was a weave of tense strings. The strain so intense it caused him to lose his breath, vibrating through his body as a deep warmth swept over his chest. It wasn’t until he caught a whiff of rich spice and earthy moss, that he realized whose signature was presenting upon him. Almost as if she had realized at the same moment as him, a cold force of air knocked him out of focus, an unmovable wall that now closed in his mind. He blinked a few times, coming out of a trance as he realized Osha was talking, completely unaware of his little foray.

“And I’ve been trying to make my peace with it, as you’ve always repeated. And maybe one day I will, but first I must find that meaning and belonging I seek. Only then will I be able to grant her my forgiveness.”

She lifted the bag, slinging a strap over her shoulder as she offered him a small smile.

“Back in Olega, moments before you confronted Mae, you asked me to have faith in her. You were sure that there was still good inside her. And when I said I couldn’t, you asked that faith to be placed on you.” Sol felt his throat dry, remembering his words all too well. “Well, that’s what I choose to do now. I have faith in you, Sol. Don’t fail me.”

She gave him a small pat on the shoulder; a farewell as she exited the room. He felt her name come out as barely a whisper, nothing but a mutter when she left the temple, leaving him numb and conflicted.

Chapter Text

Silence and solitude were his worst enemies, which was why he would try to stay as occupied as he could. In the mornings he would dedicate himself to meditating, choosing to connect with the Force and the pull from the planet. When he wasn’t teaching the younglings, he would train with Jecki, her curious questions about the mission always lingering in the air before she mustered the courage to ask.

‘Permission to speak freely, Master?’, a small smile would always escape him. Her youthful curiosity served to remind him of just how young his padawan truly was. The singular braid falling down her shoulder, the lightness of the hair so different from the one he had helped braid on Osha. It was only when he gave a nod, that Jecki eased a breath out. ‘What will happen with Mae? Now that she’s locked up?’

Sol knew the real intent behind the question, the arch of her eyebrow when she uttered Mae’s name. Now that she’s your soulmate, was the real question. To be fair, he had no real idea. He only knew of the procedure that was meant to occur once Vernestra gave him the green light. A simple ceremony in which he would vow his entire being to the Jedi Order and the followings of the code, bearing his soul-mark to a saber and building a wall with the Force. He wondered if Mae would feel it -of course she would-, just as he felt the glowing anger that shuddered through her chest, just as he felt the pitiless sorrow that clouded her mind and infected his own. But most of all, he felt the fear clouding her senses.

It was only when he was alone and in the quiet, that he would sense Mae’s emotions with full force. It overwhelmed him, sometimes blending with his own rooted sentiments. It made him feel as if he had never truly processed any feelings until his soul had found its channel through her. He found it harder to ignore with each passing day, the bond tugging him harder towards her. Sol had willed himself to remain as far as he could from the detention compound, the bond luring him like a siren song. It grew worse at night, when he could feel the cold seep into Mae’s bones, making a mental note to pass an order for an extra blanket to her cell.

He would have lasted the entire week without giving in and seeing Mae, had he not overheard the reunion occurring in Vernestra’s office. In his defense, he was simply there to deliver the latest reports of the younglings he was training. He hovered outside the metal doors, his hand frozen upon the datapad as he listened to Vernestra’s words, coming out hard and rapid, almost as if she were in a rush.

“I don’t trust that girl, who knows what she’ll try.”  

“She is his soulmate, he’s the best bet we have to knowing this ‘Master’s identity. If you send someone else, we will have the Senate at our backs.” Sol strained his ear, trying to recognize the other Master’s voice but failing.

“We already have them at our backs. Having a few padawan’s or younglings recognize their soulmates before taking the knighthood vow was something easy to erase. But a Master? This is something big, unheard of.” He quickly recognized Mog’s voice, as nasal as always.

“A Jedi Master, it puts the whole institution at odds. I say we-”

“Enough!” interrupted Vernestra, her tone stern in commandment.

Sol could only sense their moving auras, circling each other as he tried his best to hide his force signature from the room.

“Mog is right. The Senate has already tried to contact the temple on multiple occasions, asking to speak with either Sol or especially Mae. It seems Senator Rayencourt has his eyes poised in this situation.” He heard her give a big exhale before continuing. “The best we can do is tell the Senate that the bond has been terminated. We will have the Renewal Ceremony by the end of the week. In the meantime, send a knight to Mae’s cell and make sure they extract the information we need.”

Before he could decide on what to do with the information, he had already barged in.

“Extract what?” his voice nothing but a deep in worry and fresh anger.

“Master Sol,” they greeted, Mog’s face immediately downward as if expecting a scold.

“Master Vernestra, shouldn’t you of all people know that according to the Bonds Law, bond matters shall always be discussed in the presence of at least one of the bonded? Specially when you’re talking about sending a knight into her cell.” The ithorian next to Vernestra avoided Sol’s gaze, croaking every now and then as he waited for someone to speak up.

“Master Sol, we were in the midst of coming to get you. Nothing to be upset about.” Responded Vernestra, placing a hand on his shoulder to drive him towards a chair.

Sol could only feel uneasy, “Why does Rayencourt want to speak with Mae?”

He watched as Vernestra’s jaw clenched; her hands clasped behind her back.

“Sol, you are not the first Jedi Knight to have found its soulmate by accident. But you are the first Jedi Master whose bond-mate is a dark user.” Her words sinking as she stood in front of him. “The Senator has been trying for the past month to create a case against the Jedi Order. I don’t know his exact intentions, but I do know that he will use Mae’s crimes against the Order.”

Sol remained quiet, staring at the blank walls behind her.

“You do understand the gravity of the situation, don’t you Sol?”

He did, but he wouldn’t admit to it.

“You mentioned that she was trained, most likely by some rouge Master scheming under our noses. That’s the information I’m asking for.”

This time he looked up, brow creasing at what she was requesting. While he had no problem with invading other people’s minds, he couldn’t find it in himself to do it to Mae. To him, it made sense why he did it to others, most were simple criminals or people who were means to get to the objective. Mae was fortress, from the inside and out. She demanded a key in order to cross into her mind, and after that one vision he had witnessed when their soul-bond took place, he most certainly did not have the key. To force entrance would be just another aggression, one more pillar in her monument for revenge.

He stood up so quickly he almost knocked the chair back.

“Vernestra, what you are asking is not the-”

“I need a culprit, Sol. And right now, that person is Mae. You could use your bond and extract who her Master is, this could give us time with the Senate.”

“No, I will not abuse the bond. I will not touch it for Jedi affairs.”

She stared at him, eyes hard and unmoving. “Fine, then let a knight do it.” She turned to the ithorian. “Take Mog with you and do it.”

Sol had never refuted against Master Vernestra’s orders, no matter how much he disagreed, and yet, fresh anger overtook him. He held his ground and stood in front of the metallic door.

“I forbid it!” he could feel the scar on his hand beginning to itch, a command that had echoed through the bond. “Nobody is allowed to penetrate Mae-ho Aniseya’s mind.”

For that single moment, he was glad for the bond between them. While the command wouldn’t outright stop force users from trying to breach her mind, it would serve as a wall for whoever tried.

He heard Vernestra’s irritated exhale, a hand at her temple.

“Sol, imagine what it could mean for Mae if we had her old Master in custody. We could give her a pardon; she could be free of murder charges and reunited with her sister once again. You could send her to a smaller facility in a planet of her choosing.”

He tried to keep track of her words, knowing deep down that Mae would never accept a pardon. She would soon choose to grow old in prison rather than declare forgiveness to the Jedi, for crimes that had a deeper meaning between them. Yet, the idea of seeing Mae free and happy again was enticing, maybe he could help her see the warm light of choosing good.

He nodded, too entertained with the prospect of helping Mae, of giving her a little bit of the peace he had stolen.

“I’ll do it.”

Vernestra eased, the corner of her lips slightly lifting.

“It is the right thing to do. Once you give us the name, we can do the renewal of your vows immediately.”

“No, I will not use the bond.”

“Sol, I need you to-”

“No. I will talk to her and make her understand that her freedom is at peril. She will give me the name, just give me some time.”

He didn’t wait for her response, immediately walking towards the door, stepping through before stopping. The sudden realization of the entire situation making him weary. He looked at Vernestra as the door remained open: seeing her in a different light for the first time since he had known her.

“You will lie to the Senate.” Not really a question but more of an affirmation by the determined look in her eyes.

She held her chin high. “I will protect the Order, it’s different.”

Before he could even fathom a response, she lifted her hand, the door immediately clicking shut.

They kept her locked in a cell at the far-east side of the building. He had submitted a closed room for them to talk, a wide window that looked out to the tall buildings of Coruscant. He had left his lightsaber in Jecki’s hands who stood guard just outside the door. Sol knew that Mae was capable enough to make a weapon out of thin air if she wished, and yet, the only thing that made him truly nervous was the fact that he would see her again. For the first time since their bond solidified, since the mark in his palm had turned pale and soft.

He fidgeted with the gloves, deciding if it was wise to remove them and expose the spot; he decided on keeping them on. He strained his ears, feeling the thread in his chest beginning to tense and pull as he sensed her form coming down the hall. Sol stood, watching the door as the light turned green and a loud beep came from the corner.

A knight shoved Mae into the room, her hands locked in shackles as she hovered in her spot, blinking at the bright light. He took a step towards her, a hand extended in case she needed help. Instead, she stood straight and shook the locs that had fallen down her face. The knight gave another push and Sol had to suppress the need to reprimand the knight. Instead, he asked for the removal of the shackles, a low ‘are you sure, Master?’ before the metal slipped off Mae’s wrists.

The door locked behind the Jedi, leaving only Sol and Mae in the small room. He watched her approach the window, her hand against the cold plastic glass as she gazed out into the sun. Something about the scene made Sol hesitate, content with just looking at her sly frame: the brown skin that showed underneath the white simple uniform or the way her long reddish locs seemed to sway with every breath she took. When she turned, her face was stoic save for the annoyed look she threw him. He could feel their bond spark, almost inflamed at each other’s closeness in days. Sol had to divert his gaze in order to ignore the way his mind was singing her name.

“Where is Osha? Why hasn’t she come to see me?”

He was taken aback by the soft whisper of her voice, her eyes trained on the door at his back as if Osha were to step in at any minute. Sol closed his eyes for a second, remembering how he had almost begged Osha to visit her sister, to let go of the damaging grudge she held for Mae. Sick guilt showered over him, knowing full well that Osha’s anger was misplaced, and because of it, Mae remained imprisoned.

“She left Coruscant a couple days ago.” He forced himself to look at her face when he responded, watching as her round eyes shifted to him for a second, brow creased.

“You lie, Jedi!” Her hands bunched, stalking towards him as she pushed his chest. “ You lie and you kill, and you take!”

Sol stumbled; he could feel the bubbling wrath in Mae, his breath lingering, almost as if ready for a blow. She gave another strike, landing full on his sternum, causing him to falter and bend at the loss of air. He was pretty sure she would have kept on hitting him had she not felt the phantom of the offense through the bond. Her eyes shinning with tears as she silently sat on the lonely chair in the middle of the room.

‘I have faith in you, Sol. Don’t fail me.' Osha had told him, and he was failing at every turn.

“Osha wouldn’t do that. She wouldn’t leave me here.” A blue sadness drowned the room, pulling Sol to composure.

He took the seat opposite to her, folding his hands atop the table as if it would bring her some sense of reassurance.

“I tried to convince her to see you before departing, but she was unyielding and wouldn’t listen.”

“She wouldn’t leave me again, not with you. Not after what you’ve done to us.”

Sol knew that once they apprehended Mae, it meant that the secret he had tried to keep would soon be exposed. He only wished the jedi council would understand why he had done such a thing 16 years ago, and why he had kept it secret. It was because of his silence that Mae realized something was amiss, her face turning bitter as her body instantly turned upright against the chair.

“She doesn’t know.” Her words a mere whisper. “You’ve brainwashed her.”

Sol’s own guilt choking him, the thread between them growing cold and spiked in Mae’s fear.

“It was a misunderstanding, but we can remedy that now.”

“No wonder she could barely look at me, you’ve turned her against me!”

“No, Mae. Listen to me.”

“I’LL KILL YOU JEDI!”

She lunged forward, knocking the table between them. Sol was already in defense by the moment her hands had reached out towards his throat, his gloved hand holding her at arm’s length before she thrashed and attempted a kick. The commotion alerted the Jedi stationed outside the room, barging in with raised sabers. That only seemed to aggravate her anger, sticking her arm further when his grasp faltered. She managed a punch to his jaw before the knight who had brought her in was already placing the shackles back on her wrists.

He watched as they shoved her against a wall, her anger all but dismissed as she bared her teeth, a lone tear shinning in the corner of her eye. Sol motioned for them to take her back, leaving him and Jecki in the room. He could feel his padawan’s eyes on his back, probably filled with questions she wouldn’t ask until a couple hours later. Yet, he sat on the standing chair and stared out into the window. The pounding in his chest intensifying every minute he tried to reach out in the bond. He hadn’t even been able to mention the true intention of his visit and he had already sent her into a strife. Sol began to wonder just how much work he would have to put in order to win Mae over, to earn her forgiveness.

He had to beg Vernestra for more time. His Renewal Ceremony was due by the end of the week, and even though he did not wish to use the bond to invade Mae’s mind, he could use it detect if she was truthful or not. Vernestra granted him a few weeks, each growing precarious with every visit he had with Mae. She would ignore him most of the time, staring out the window as she traced the flying ships. When she did look at him, her eyes would be cold and her face entirely stoic.

He tried a subtle approach, asking small details about her master but she would always cut him off by mumbling ‘I will kill you’. Sol would push and she wouldn’t back down, repeating herself until she shut down and demanded to be let out. Day after day until she got bored, or so he thought. By the second week, she sat down in the chair, fidgeting with a loose thread of her jumper as she scanned him. He felt his cheeks turn red at such inspection, clearing his throat under her intense gaze.

“Mae, I can get you a pardon, you will not have to spend your entire life in a cell. If you tell me who trained you, your sentence can be minimized in a great deal.”

“A pardon?” she blinked.

“Yes, just a simple document. You are guilty of the murders of Master Indara and Torbin, but we can pledge mercy. In order to do that, we need your master’s identity.”

She scoffed, pulling the thread clean from her clothes. Her hands flat on the table as she stood, anger once again sizzling in her eyes as she gave him one hard look.

“You’re asking me to apologize. To ask for clemency, to you of all people?”

“That’s not what it is-”

“Yes, it is. They don’t know, do they? Does the Senate know what happened on the mission in Brendok?”

He looked away, feeling as open as a book to her. He remembered coming back to Coruscant with Osha clinging to him, he recalled Indara’s eyes avoiding his every time he tried to talk about the fire. They had settled on the story that they had found a coven of witches in the abandoned planet. Osha and Mae were they only children in the company, while both were force sensitive, they were to remain with their mothers. A fatal fire was started in the witches’ fortress, a fire accidently started by Mae. Which had rendered the entire coven to ashes, and Sol and Torbin had managed to snatch Osha alive from the disaster. Their ‘noble mission’ had fallen into nothing more but a whisper, deeming the planet as a simple casualty.

He heard her laugh, low and shortened. She sat back on the chair, reclining against the metal.

“You’re all rotten here huh. You think you’re the good guys, so morally superior. But you’re all deceivers.” She played with the end of one of her loc, humming an old rhyme.

Sol wondered if she had ever tried to reach through their bond, or the ‘Thread’ as they had called it. He couldn’t seem to divert his gaze from her face, watching as her long lashes flickered and her brown eyes seemed to shine in the low light. The mark on her forearm coming into view as the sleeve of her jumper rolled. He wanted to ask her about the bond, her thoughts and how she felt – did she feel him as much as he did her? – but before he could conjure a question, she passed a hand over her mark, covering it as she pulled the fabric to the wrist.

“I’ll tell you what. I’ll sign whatever little pardon you want me to take, when and only when, the Jedi Order give an official statement about what happened on Brendok.”

“Mae, what you’re asking is–”

“Is my one condition.”

Sol sighed, confused for a second. “Mae, you do realize that the pardon is for your benefit? You have a charge of crimes on your back, you are in no position to have conditions.”

She simply shrugged, her attention fully on her cuticles. “Then I guess there’s no deal.”

“Mae, please. This offer–”

She stood again; the conversation finalized as she moved towards the door. Normally, the code to exit the room was three quick knocks, or as Mae often did, she would bang her hands against the metal as she yelled profanities. But she only stood there, breathing deeply as if she could bore a hole into the door with her eyes.

“I will kill you, Sol. That’s a promise.”

Frustration grew in him, slamming a palm against the table as he lifted to face her. He was a calm man, a person who meditated more than any living thing in the Temple, and yet, when he was near Mae, it was as if his entire life was put upside down. Without thinking, he took hold of her forearm and turned for around, the bond between them immediately sparking with electricity as their marks met even through the layers of fabric. He heard her gasp, lips slightly parted as her eyes flickered from their joined hands towards his face.

“You can’t kill me, Mae. You know how this bond works.”

Her brows creased, nostrils slightly flaring when she tore her arm away.

“I don’t. And I really don’t care either.”

He blinked at the small confession she had granted him, realizing just how much in the dark she was.

“We are tied, by soul and force. One cannot exist without the other. Once a bond is cemented, if the other half were to die, it would be months or weeks before your heart withered. You would die of heartache.”

She scoffed, knocking on the door three times before it opened almost immediately. She gave him one last look, filled of aversion.

“My heart died 16 years ago.”

“Why do you hold such loyalty to this master of yours?” he had asked one day, it had been two weeks and he was at Vernestra’s final straw. She had threatened him to send a knight and get the job done if he didn’t extract the name.

He was trying different tactics, the first one to which he had failed miserably, was dangling her freedom like bait. But she had given him an ultimatum he couldn’t quite accept. Sol would bring her gifts and necessities, things that would shine through the bond almost like a message. He was slightly sure that Mae was actively sending him those signals, waiting by the door each time he arrived and extending her hand. At first, he had thought she would not accept the sweet treats or the extra blankets, yet she sat near the window and munched on the buttersweet puffs.

This time he had brought her a small parchment notebook with a blunt dark crayon, she had rolled her eyes at the gift and began scribbling on the papers. Sol could’ve given her some of the many graphite pencils he had in his dorm, but considering her eye for crafting knives, he felt comfortable with the wax texture of the crayon. She didn’t look up from whatever she was scribbling, simply throwing her locs over her shoulder every now and then.

“I don’t hold any type of ‘loyalty’ for him.”

“Then why are you making this so difficult, Mae?”

That earned him a smirk.

“Because it’s something you want.”  

He passed a hand over his face, trying to calm the growing irritation that crowded his mind.

“Go on,” she said, her voice laced in irony. “you most certainly can do it, specially with this stupid bond between us. Go on! Dig your fingers in my head and take the name!”

Sol simply stared at her, remembering for a moment her childlike face from 16 years ago, how scared she had been. He imagined that that was what he would see if he dared enter her mind, thrown back into the endless darkness that was Brendok to him. He looked down at his hands, almost as if in defeat, knowing he could not do it even if forced.

“What?” Mae laughed. “That’s your limit? That’s too much for you?”

Unconsciously, he tuned into the soul-bond. It had become almost second nature to him to reach out into their bond and caress the sweet tension whenever he felt stressed. At night, it helped him drown the turmoil of thoughts and overbearing guilt. Every time his ghostly fingers stroked the link, he felt his body flare in warmth as an intoxicatingly spiced scent would fill his nostrils. Sol took a deep breath, keeping the aroma deep in his lungs before looking up, realizing that Mae wasn’t writing anymore but instead she was staring at him.

Big brown eyes that looked at him with a hint of curiosity, head slightly tilted.

“I can feel the pull every time you do that, I hate it.”

He blinked, “I’ll make sure to not do it again.”

Sol had expected that to be the end of their ‘conversation’, or of the session in general. Instead, she set the crayon down and reclined against the chair, hands neatly crossed against her chest as she examined him.

“What do you feel when you access the bond?”

With a swallow he sat straighter, picking on the leather of his gloves, trying to find what exactly to say.

“Sometimes anger, sometimes cold loneliness.” Mae gave a small nod, her face souring. “But other times I feel inexplicable warmth, so pleasant and snug that it feels like an embrace.”

He ached to ask her what she felt when she nudged the bond, holding back as if not to make her more uncomfortable than she already was.

Mae rolled her eyes, shifting in her seat to face the door.

“Since you’re dying to know, I feel a similar kind of warmth. Except it reeks of remorse and virtuousness.” She looked back at him, for single moment she chose to lock eyes with him, almost as if she were searching for something specific. But she simply stood and headed for the door, knocking an absurd amount of times before a knight opened it. She spared him a glance before stepping out of the room, her face blank. “Heat can be overbearing.”

Sol lost his breath, eyes trained on her figure as she disappeared between the knights at her flank. Maybe if he’d been another Jedi, someone who didn’t prod the bond as much as Sol did, maybe he would’ve believed her. Instead, he felt his gut quake and the link hum with hesitance each time he prod it. He couldn’t help the small laugh that emanated from his throat, the lie as clear as the sunlight that shone through the window.

Jecki threw him a few fretful glances but wouldn’t mutter a word, he let her steep for a while until her meddling won her over.  It was after her sparing lesson that she gave up, swiping the sweat off her forehead, easing her breath as she corrected her posture.

“Master, permission to speak freely?”

Sol gave her a small smile, assenting.

“What has been bothering your mind, Jecki?”

The padawan took a breath, squaring her shoulders as she faced him.

“Why do you spend so much time with the Jedi Killer? I understand that it’s the natural force of the soul-bond that might push you towards her, but the longer you stay near her, the harder it will be to place a wall between the bond.”

He nodded, unclasping the binds of his gloves before removing the leather. “Mae, Jecki. Her name is Mae.”

“Of course, forgive me Master.”

He turned his hand, palm side up to show Jecki the healed soul mark. The edges forever shadowed on his skin as he traced the softness, the simple touch feeling like a caress to the soul.

“You know why the jedi refuse the establishments of soulmates in the Order, don’t you?”

Her eyes falling to the mark for a split second before looking back at him. “A bond is a form of attachment, not just by emotion but also spiritually. A jedi with a linkage can be susceptible to somber emotions such as jealousy or greed. It is a route that can lead to the dark side.”

Sol knew the words too well, in part because it had been him who had repeated those words to her.

“Attachment isn’t black or white, it’s broader than what we can see. A jedi must have attachments in order to function correctly, one must connect with the gravity of the planet, with the pulse in the force. To protect the peace in the galaxy, a jedi must love its nature and its people. The key is knowing when to stop; when the attachment grows rooted and deep in a person, that’s the moment when fear and anger can take over.”

Jecki listened carefully, some of the worry in her brow slowly erasing.

“Is that why you are being so adamant on helping Mae? To show just how merciful the Jedi are?”

Sol shook his head almost immediately, because even though he kept telling himself that he was doing it all to help the Order, something deep in him laughed at the idea. Was this just another one of his 'noble missions’?

“I have caused Mae so much hurt and anger, the least I can do is try to help her.”

“I understand, Master.” She gave him a warm smile, a small twinkle in her eyes when she looked at him. “I am grateful to be your padawan.”

Sol didn’t know how to feel about Jecki’s words, seeming to him as if she were idolizing him. Somehow it didn’t sit right with him, Mae’s words from days before ringing in his ears ‘You think you’re the good guys, so morally superior. But you’re all deceivers.’ Would Jecki look at him differently if she knew what truly had happened in Brendok?

He had been too caught in his own thoughts that he had forgotten to get something for Mae, arriving to the cell room empty handed. Mae simply huffed and returned to her spot by the window.

“Well, this is going to be tedious.”

“I’m sorry Mae, I don’t know where my mind has been lately. I completely forgot.”

She shrugged, trying to seem unbothered. And it would have worked had the bond not betrayed her disappointment.

“Forgive me, Mae. Tell me what you’d like, and I’ll make sure to bring it next time.”

She didn’t move nor did she look away from the window, her face pensive as she responded.

“If you had Torbin’s chance, what choice would you have taken?”

He knew what she was implying, would he choose to confess to the Senate or would he choose a simple death with no penalty? The path of pins or needles. He wondered if she had given that same choice to Indara, or had she simply driven her knife deep in the Jedi Master’s chest? Her hand the only mean of justice, ripping in half just as they had done to her younger self. Sol knew why he had done the things he had done in Brendok, believing in his heart that he was protecting the twins. Just as she was certain of his ‘corrupt’ and ‘malicious’ ways.

“You aren’t giving me a choice, Mae.”

She still didn’t look back no matter how much he pulled on the thread.

“No, but if I did?”

Would he choose the right thing? What was the right thing to a jedi like him? To confess a crime and lose everything he had fought for. Or to appease the resentment in Mae’s heart and bring her a semblance of the peace she ached for? Before he could make his mind and give a response, the metal doors opened with a beep. When he turned, he was surprised to find Vernestra at the door, her brow creased in a deep manner.

“Master Sol, I fear your time is up.”

 He stood almost immediately, worry taking hold of him. “What is the meaning of this, Master?”

He watched as the mirialan’s gaze locked on Mae’s frame by the window. Almost as if by instinct he placed himself in between, blocking her vision. It was in that moment that Sol felt a soft pull in the bond, a gentle caress that held on to the thread for security. He stepped closer to Vernestra hoping she would retreat a few steps back. When she didn’t, he reached into the force and placed a shield over Mae, hoping it would be enough.

“What has happened?” he tried again.

Vernestra finally gave a step back, with it so did her eyes, falling slightly before looking back at him. Her mouth turned upside down for a moment, telling him enough.

“We just got word that Master Kelnaca was murdered last night.”

Chapter Text

“How is that possible?” he couldn’t help the slight tremble that came out of his voice when he asked the question. “The knights you sent, what have they-”

“They arrived too late. We received a message stating that they found him stabbed to death in his hut.” She turned to Mae, her stare as sharp as Mae’s daggers. “What do you know of this?”

“I don’t understand.” she mumbled. Sol could feel the genuine confusion in her words, the emotion somewhat easing the tension that had grown in his chest.

Vernestra’s demeanor didn’t change, her hostility quite visible as she tried to approach Mae; had Sol not blocked her way, he was sure she would’ve pushed Mae against the window. The sudden protectiveness in Sol seemed to shine brighter every time it involved the twins, specially around Mae. He could see the disapproval in Vernestra’s gaze, the quick frown she tossed him.

“Step away, Master Sol. She had enough time to yield the information. You’ve been pampering her all these days and it has brought us nothing.” She turned to Mae again. “You will tell us who this master is and what plans he has.”

He could feel the sharp wave of anxiety that crashed through her, making the thread that connected them tremble and pike. He didn’t know much about Mae, but what he could understand after the long weeks in her presence, was that she was a girl with too much bottled up anger. A feeling that had grown and prospered because of him. It gnawed at Sol’s stomach, a deep pit of guilt that only seemed to grow deeper and wider. He was the one to have caused her such distress, to separate her from the arms of her mother; and if he thought about all the little ripples he had caused in her life, he had also pushed her into the claws of this dark sider master.

That sense of protection that had surged in him 16 years ago remained rooted in his body. Remembering the fear that had gripped him when he saw her small body beginning to shimmer and spread like smoke, terrified that she would be gone like fog from his fingers, from the force as a whole. He felt it again, when Vernestra’s eyes tried to corner Mae into submission; fearful that if she pushed hard enough, he would lose Mae all over again.

“Ask her the questions, but don’t invade her mind.” He said, gaze locked on Vernestra. “I’ll be the medium.”

He tried to ignore the itch on the back of his head, pretty sure that Mae was staring at him with either aversion or curiosity. Yet he remained put, knowing that Vernestra would try to look for any sign of emotional attachment between the two.

“Forgive me, Master Sol, but I don’t believe you to be matched for this case. The window for your trial and error has long since closed.” This time, Vernestra used the force against him. The rush of powerful energy moving him aside, stumbling as she made the path clear.

In a breath he was cast as if a paper to the window, panic and ire clouding his mind. All his years of training would be for nothing if he could not protect his own soulmate. He knew it was wrong and still, he didn’t hesitate to use the force to immobilize Vernestra’s hand. He watched as her eyes widened, palpable anger on her face that for the first time was directed at him.

“Master Sol, you dare go against a fellow jedi master? Against the order?” A clear accusation. Sol knew how the rest of the order saw him since the moment the news of his bond broke. He could see it in the way they stared at him for a little too long, sometimes talking to him as if he were a newly brought padawan. He could see it as clear as day in the master’s gaze, Jecki’s words returning in full force in his head: A jedi with a linkage can be susceptible to somber emotions such as jealousy or greed. It is a route that can lead to the dark side.

But he had survived so much, and he had saved the twins from falling into the dark side; even Mae who resisted, she had been saved. And he would save her again and again, eventually the order would see his way.

“Not against the order, but against a violation of integrity.” He eased his pull on the force, watching as Vernestra’s hand fall, but Mae’s face only seemed to harden. “You wanted me to use the bond? Let me use it now. Ask her your questions and I’ll tell you if she’s being honest or not.”

The Jedi Master gave a slight nod, contemplating the idea.

“You want me to believe you? How do I know this attachment hasn’t sowed its roots in you?”

Attachment, a word so heavily feared inside the temple. He shook his head, unclasping his gloves to show the healed scar to Vernestra; the soft skin shinning when the sunlight hit the mark. He didn’t know what Mae thought about the shared blemish, or if she even acknowledged it. But for Sol, it had turned into his greatest comfort. When the day was too much, he found his fingers tracing the ghost of the scar over his gloves; at night when he couldn’t sleep, he would refrain from touching the bond, instead finding solace in the way the new skin would pull and give under this index finger.

Vernestra raised an eyebrow, holding back the question.

“Make the Renewal Ceremony as soon as we get the answers. It’s time to close this bond.”

He felt a shift in the room, the air turning cold and sullen. Sol willed himself to avoid looking at Mae. Even though he tried to keep the emotions through the bond as neutral as he could, he felt that if he looked at her once, she would see right through him.

“Fine! What do you want to know?” Mae’s voice broke the lingering silence, the shuffle of her boots echoing as she took her seat on the discarded metal chair.

Vernestra took his chair, facing Mae as he remained by the wall. He watched as the mirialan folded her hands above the table, leaning closer as if to inspect Mae.

“Who is this master of yours?” There was a long pause, the longer it stretched, the more impatient Vernestra got. Sol closed his eyes, concentrating on the phantom thread that tied him to Mae, holding it steady as every emotion ebbed and flowed through it. He felt her fear and panic, as sharp as one who would encounter a carnivorous animal in the jungle. The fear turning into dread.

Instead, he heard her whisper, faint and weak, “I don’t know.”

Vernestra scoffed, a hand planting on the table. “Who is it Mae? You could be free of charges if you-”

“I don’t know.” She cut, tone harsher than before.

The thing about Mae was that her knowledge about the bond was very limited; she could sometimes place walls in their connection, but they didn’t hold for long. She knew very little, that it sometimes made him feel a little queasy for having an advantage over her. Maybe when she turned compliant and learned to accept his help, maybe then he could teach her how to master what would be left of the bond. For in that moment, he could feel the shift in her demeanor, the connection between them rumbling like light turbulence, making her emotions as vibrant as the stars when plunged into hyperspace. He could read what was once faint fright rapidly turn into irritation. A sign he was learning to recognize, how her patience and candor were running thin in the moment. Were it a lie, that annoyance would instead felt like delight, equal to a loth cat amused with its prey.

“She tells the truth.” He replied, tone as firm as he could muster, leaving no trace of doubt.

Vernestra turned to him, the disbelief painted in the arched eyebrow she threw him. Yet, he gave a nod, solidifying his stance.

“Then how did you know of this Master? How did he train you?”

Mae sighed, “He would wear this metal helmet, big enough to cover his features. The helmet had carvings and incrusted metal teeth, almost like a smile. The mask had cortosis bindings; we would train in this unknown planet where he kept his fill of it. Yet every time I asked to create my own cuffs, he would say I hadn’t ‘earned it yet.’”

She gave a scoff, laughing at the memory. Sol’s silent nods were the only confirmation Vernestra needed.

“And where was this planet?”

“He had many bases and settlements, I never knew where to find him directly. He’d simply send me the coordinates once I was finished with whatever mission he had sent me on.”

“Missions like the ones you did with Master Indara and Torbin?” Vernestra pushed.

Mae simply chewed her cheeks, seemingly suddenly too interested in the fasting’s of the metal table. “More or less.”

What had she been doing all those long years in order to survive? He had damned her again and again, the mistake in Brendok had grown into a vast implosion. Had she starved? Had she overworked? Curiosity winning against his better judgement as he stepped away from the wall.

“Mae, this is a safe space. You can confide on us to–”

But Mae laughed, the sound pitched and filled of mockery.

“As if I’d ever confess something to you.”

He felt it then, hitting him right in the gut: her cold anger, sharp like iced thorns. She felt his remorse and she took it as pity. It took him a moment to realize just how much her aversion hurt him.

He had forgotten that Vernestra remained in the room, crashing his thoughts as she reached for her comlink, pressing the small thing as she spoke.

“Mog, run the database and get me a report on all the planets with cortosis banks, even those who have it in its natural state.”

He heard the soft confirmation, making Sol aware of the situation at hand. He had to remember that outside of the room, there was an evil force causing damage. The murderer of his old friend, leaving the wookie to die in some hot jungle far away. He had to put his troubling emotions aside, holding steadily into the bond as he avoided Mae’s eyes.

“What was the plan, Mae? What does this master want?”

“Well, all he said he wanted was an apprentice. An acolyte he had said.” The bond began to move with his breathing, syncing with Mae’s as he tried to calm the crawling unease. “I had proven myself worthy of taking on a Jedi by myself. Even if it had been with a weapon, it had been enough for me to embark in the journey. He believed I wanted the position he offered, but I had my own motives.”

“So Indara was your first jedi kill?” asked Vernestra.

He felt a rush of proudness pass the bond, as fast as a mere thought. “My first non-exiled jedi, yes. She was a tough nut.”

Subconsciously, he pulled the string, tight and harsh as one did a leash, catching himself by surprise by such action. He was one to maintain his feelings in check, no matter how much they troubled him, and yet when he heard Mae talk so hastily about Indara’s death, a crack appeared in his façade. He heard Mae gasp; looking up to see her shocked eyes, big and brown, staring at him as if he had pushed her over a ledge. Sol was about to apologize when he felt an equally powerful push though the bond, feeling as his organs were crashing together before finally returning into their corresponding space.

“Sol!” Vernestra snapped.

Sol felt his cheeks flare, feeling like a youngling again, caught in the middle of a dispute only to be reprimanded. He quickly lowered his head, ready to bear whatever harsh words she would give, but instead he heard Mae laugh. Loud and pitched, and so sincere. Nothing like the sardonic one she threw him earlier, but instead filled of amusement, the bond singing with mirth as her hiccups slowly eased. He was caught in the warmth of the sound, too enveloped to come up with an excuse for his actions.

It was Mae who spoke up, crossing her arms as she relaxed into the chair.

“He wanted me to be his pupil, that’s all I know. He wanted me to ‘destroy the dream’” she quoted, her brow furrowing. “He said I would have to kill a Jedi without a weapon, so I choose my targets. I went after Master Indara first, but I couldn’t kill her without a weapon.”

“You were planning on killing Master Kelnacca and Sol too? Could it be that this Master of yours wants to finish what you started?” Vernestra stood, passing the room as she stared outside the window.

He had been too washed into the false serenity of the bond, falling into the dream-state arms of the soulmate link, just as they had warned him. To hear that Mae was indeed intent on killing him, it was like soaking warm toes into a glacier.

“No, he wouldn’t do it. He has no reason for it.”

“But you did.” The mirialan pushed, the mere question putting Sol on edge.

“I was owed something, and it could only be fulfilled with a much worse punishment.”

He felt her eyes on him again, as if she were holding him to the end of a stungun. Mae would never be truly free of the horror of Brendok, not until he laid dead or jailed. Not until he succumbed to the bitter reality of confessing his crime.

“Mae,” the word sounding more like a prayer, holding it in his breath as if she were the divine answer he was searching for his entire life; and maybe he was, maybe he had been blind to the strange ways the galaxy had to answering his inquiries.

Before he could ask for any sort of forgiveness, Vernestra turned. He saw the clear question, drawn in the force in which her jaw locked.

“Then who else could be finishing your ploy? Who else would want revenge on the four jedi who were once stationed in Brendok?”

Sol shook his head with such force he almost sprained his neck. The pure insinuation striking him hard.

“You’re wrong, she would never even entertain the idea.” his determination laced with hope as he said it, holding to the mental image of that young girl on his ship. Eyes grand and filled of fascination. “She wouldn’t.”

Yet Vernestra stared ahead, “She left the order before her knight trials. In your own words, ‘she remains too emotionally attached to sentiments of grief and sadness.’”

He felt his mouth dry, all protest dying as he tried to reason.

“But she wouldn’t. She…Osha wouldn’t turn against the Order.”

A clap from the table, the sound shattering whatever confidence he had.

“Threads tie!” Mae chuckled, a smirk perfectly placed upon her lips. “She knows!”

He watched as she stood, the sway of her hips as she neared him. Sol didn’t know what to do, feeling his entire world crash upon his shoulders. There was no reason for Osha to try and kill Kelnacca if she hadn’t known what truly occurred in Brendok. His heart thumping out of his chest, the shrill echoing in his ear as he tried to maintain the little composure he had. Mae craned her neck, the smirk never fading as she dared him to blurt out the truth.

“Your time is over, Sol.”

The smirk turning into a full-fledged smile, teeth shinning as if she were to take a bite from him. She retreated, satisfied with the mess she had created, turning to knock on the metal door. All he could do was watch, feeling the weight of his actions. She disappeared and he was left with the ringing and the ache. Would Osha kill him? After everything they had shared, could she submit to such cruelty?

“Sol!” Vernestra’s voice breaking him out, aware that he would have to confess. Finally opening the vault where he kept the lie, accepting any punishment that was given.

“Master, I have to confess something. I have kept this secret for over 16 years, and it is time the Council knows.”

But Vernestra simple nodded, placing a hand on his shoulder. A gentle squeeze as if it were to comfort him.

“Whatever it is, Sol. I trust you and Master Indara took the choice necessary. Sometimes what a Jedi deems correct, an ordinary being will see it wrong, and it is completely natural.”

Sol knew what she was doing, and yet the more she tried to alleviate his guilt and doubt, the more he seemed to crush under the infinite sea.

“No, Master. What we did, it was wrong. I let myself be blinded by the veil of my own desires. I must confess this crime to the Council, to the Senate; it is the only way to bring true balance to Mae’s life, from what I took from her.”

She shook him, “Whatever it was, it is forgiven. We must protect the Order, the Temple and the Force from the hold of these dark siders. That is the only way you will truly atone.”

The uncertainty in his heart only seemed to grow, because even though Vernestra’s words were meant to be a balm to his guilt, the only person who could soothe his need for repentance was currently being locked in a cell.

“You understand the gravity if this news came out, right?” he watched as the master paced back and forth, her fingers laced in a tense grip. “We will be back to square one, back when we thought the jedi killer was Osha. If the Senate knew of this, of an old padawan turning to the dark side, learning these foul techniques. This could be the end of the Jedi Order.”

He tried to concentrate on her words, to understand the fullness of what she meant.

“What do you suggest we do?”

Vernestra stopped her pacing, turning sharply. “She will be coming, either for you or her sister, maybe even both. Which is why we must separate you.”

“Separate?”

“You will remain in the Temple, change rooms and wing entirely. We shall send Mae to an outpost, I’ll let you choose which one.”

She resolved the issue, content with her outcome. Yet, Sol remained with a thousand of questions. He followed her out of the questioning room, the beep of the door long forgotten when he saw Jecki just outside, a raised eyebrow as she handed him his saber.

“Master, why an outpost? Why not a highly contained reformatory? And why am I to stay? Mae should stay, that way she will remain easily guarded; they wouldn’t dare trespass the Temple.”

He saw Jecki from the corner of his eye, fighting to keep his step as they crossed the halls. Vernestra barely acknowledged his questions, turning of her own accord towards her office. He half expected her to shut the door in Sol’s face, but it remained open, taking the invitation he crossed the into her space. Mog was already there, a low tilt of his head as he remained behind his master, holding a datapad in his arm.

“Having Mae in a prison would be quite obvious, wouldn’t it? Which is why we will send her to the most remote yet serviceable outpost in the Outer Rim.” She reached for Mog, the datapad immediately transferring to her hand. “And I need you here. When Senator Rayencourt comes, you will assure him that Mae remains in our custody, here in the Temple.”

She didn’t look up, instead began reading the report. Sol felt his chest tighten once again, the pressure of what she was asking him was enough to dull his senses. For of course, what is another lie to his heavy list? Just another pebble in his shoe, a constant nudge in his consciousness. He thought that by confessing what had happened in Brendok, it would alleviate the burning shame, but instead it had only grown bigger, enough to block the sun.

He heard Jecki shuffle behind him, a reminder of his reality. She would grow into a powerful Jedi, and she would be correct and just: the beacon of a virtuous defender. He couldn’t help but wonder what Jecki would think of him if she knew the dark truth. Would she still follow him around?

“And Sol, your renewal ceremony will be this weekend.”

So soon, his heartbeat thicker, echoing in his very veins as he swallowed. He had the bond for almost a full month, and it would suddenly be gone. That warm connection that had turned into his safety net, vanishing into a bleak wall. All he could truly do was lower his head, taking the order with honor before leaving her office.

He watched her embark the ship from afar; to be specific, from the broad windows of the Jedi Archives. She had stood on the platform for nearly an hour, her locs falling over her face, making it harder for Sol to take one last image of what she looked. He knew it would be long before he saw her again - if he ever did -, so he remained rooted by the window, watching her hands twist in the iron shackles, the uniform that was once white now looked yellowish under Coruscant’s sun. Master Lensi stood beside her, the duros creature as imposing as he remembered.

Sol had chosen the Barafye outpost, thinking that its secluded and desolate spot would be ideal to hide Mae. Vernestra had appointed Master Lensi to personally guard and oversee Mae, taking with him a few knights that would be his aid. Even though a part of him ached to rush down the temple and bid her farewell, he knew it was essential that he remained as far away from her as he could. He read her emotions a final time, pressing into the bond as he tried to ease the loud disdain in her soul. He watched as she climbed the ship, soon disappearing from his sight. He watched the doors lock, the fog of the engine and he could almost hear the low rumble of the machine. Sol gave the bond a last squeeze, bidding farewell and a promise to see her again. He waited for any kind of response, and yet when the ship disappeared from the sky, he felt nothing back.

He remained by the window, rooted in place, waiting and waiting for any sign that she was okay. He would’ve stayed there the full week, eyes locked on the last spot he’d seen her, but he knew what was awaiting him two halls down. He gathered his wits, swallowing the dread as he made his way to the Council Chamber. When he entered the space, the vague memory of Master Indara returned. How she had spread the lie they had fabricated, pleading to let Osha join the younglings in training. He wondered if Indara had felt as exposed as he felt in that moment, the eyes of all the four jedi Master pointed directly at him.

“Master Sol, welcome to the High Council.” It was Vernestra who greeted him first, her words as piercing as ever.

Sol decided to bow, low and long, delivering the respect that was owed to the council. When he straightened, there was a slight relief in Vernestra’s face.

“You are aware that you are here for the renewal of your knighthood vows, Master Sol?” he turned to face the small Rodian, Master Horo with his beaming eyes in which Sol could see his reflection. He swallowed, fingers fidgeting as he nodded.

“Yes. My soul has been marked and taken by its bond-mate, which is why I surrender my innermost conscious. My loyalty and service forever one with the force, with the Order.” Words he had repeated to himself those past days, feeling heavy every time he whispered them to the wall. Feeling how his body recognized the foul betrayal before his mind.

Another Master stepped forward, a Duros man who reminded him of the Master who had accompanied Mae to the outpost. The mere memory of her caused a spasm to cross his chest.

“We are here to acknowledge what the Force has proclaimed, how it has guided you towards the light again and again. You have felt the temptation to stray from the values of the Jedi, and yet you fought back.”

Sol could feel sweat beginning to collect at the base of his neck, eyes downcast as he stared at his gloves. Knowing what was next, he began unclasping the fastenings.

“You have proven yourself worthy of your title, Master. Which is why, in order for you to continue your arduous work as a servant of the galaxy, we must cease your connection to foreign forces.”

The exposed scar seemed brighter than he had ever seen it, suddenly the most beautiful mark on his body. He gave it one last stroke, feeling its soft ridge before it burned once again. He extended the palm to Master Hono, feeling his clammy fingers around his wrist, pulling him closer to the circle. In a sudden impact, he felt phantom fingers just in the corner of his consciousness, prodding him to begin. With one last swallow he began building the mental wall, bricks made of endless chastises and gloom looks. The image of his child self, alone and melancholic, aching to feel welcome and home. He’d always been a shy kid, too eager to make a connection and too afraid to put his emotions aside. He felt that insecurity rising to the top when he had tried to bury it deep in his mind.

“By the right of the Council, by the will of the Force, we reject the imposed bond.” They all said in unison, a voice so mechanic to his ears.

Sol held the wall by himself, feeling their signatures melt from his aura, willing him to place and seal the dismissal. And so he did, repeating what was expected of him.

“By the right of the Council, by the will of the Force, I reject the imposed bond.”

He felt a fracture in his wall, laughing at his words as if Mae herself was laughing at his promise. He heard a saber ignite, whose? He didn’t know. His entire body and mind making an effort to hold the concrete in the bond, the only thing he cared about was for him to not get buried under the rubble.

“By the right of the Council, by the will of the Force, we reject the imposed bond.” They repeated.

He stared ahead, wishing he had jumped on that ship to Barafye.

“By the right of the Council, by the will of the Force, I reject the imposed bond.”

He felt the radiating heat before the searing pain, it was quick but it was painful. Just a simple tilt from a blue saber, the plasma blade melting the soft skin of the scar. It could’ve been a second, but to Sol it felt like a lifetime. The scream that erupted from his throat was something guttural and animalistic, a sound he had never heard from himself before. As quickly as it was done, a soothing balm was spread over the wound.

“I dub thee Master Sol, a reaffirmed and renewed, Knight of the Republic.” proclaimed Vernestra, her voice loud and authoritative. He didn’t need to see her to know she was content with the culmination of the bond.

It took him a couple of minutes to catch his breath, wincing when someone placed a thin compress around the wound. He received congratulations and praise, but it all fell to deaf ears, feeling as his body grew numb. The pain had extended into another plane, making his mind nothing more than an echo chamber.

Normally, after a Knighthood Ceremony, everyone would gather and celebrate. But considering it was a Renewal Ceremony, everything was kept in the quiet and in confidence, draping a giant cloth over a situation that brought so much infamy to the Jedi Order. He was given leave from all duties, choosing to retire to the new rooms that were given to him. What he needed was silence and solitude, crashing into the private bathroom of his chamber. Had he been in his right mind, he would’ve taken the time to strip down, instead he walked right under the streaming faucet. The hot water soaking coat after coat of robes, the warmth comforting but not as blinding as the burning of the plasma. He undid the compress on his hand, revealing the damaged skin to the water. The temperature only seemed to worsen the pain and yet he did not care, pressing his fingers to what once was an odd-shaped star, now was a sharp red line. He hated it with every fiber of his being, digging his nails into the wound, making sure the pain he felt was enough to make him faint.

When it wasn’t enough, he found himself digging his fingers into the bond, this time his digits met against the wet slab of concrete. The disgust he felt made the nausea rise and choke him, the wave so powerful that he couldn’t help but bend and release. Aversion and hatred, clear with every lurch, making the fog lift. It was never Mae’s – or maybe it was and he’d been holding on to it as a pretext -, but they were his. Every sentiment of self-loathing, shinning like a beacon when forced against the wall.

His books had said that the bond wouldn’t fully close with a rejection, but it would simply dull the intensity in which one could connect with the other’s emotions. Thus, making the connection more of an afterthought once the channel was broken. A part of Sol hopped all the recordings were wrong, out of habit. He reached for the thread; as he usually did when seeking comfort, holding the link like a lifeline. But when his phantom fingers wrapped around the cord, it felt as lifeless as a slipped thread from his robe. He couldn’t sense the warmth of Mae’s aura or even a flash of her constant anger. The silence was deafening, bringing him down to the vibrant tiles of the shower. He didn’t know in what exact moment it was, but soon there were tears blurring his sight.

Sol was lost to anything that could make him feel pain. The burning in his lungs and muscles was enough to recreate the pricking sensation he used to get whenever Mae tossed her frustrations and anger his way. He knew it was wrong to meddle in sentiments of loss and yearning, for the more he thought about how empty he felt, the more he would strive for some sense of closure. So instead, he would spend entire days if he could in the sparring rooms, training for an attack that would never come. He was conscious of the worrying glances Jecki threw him, or the subtle ways she tried to break his focus.

‘Master, it’s time for our break’ she would mumble, including herself in the activity when all she did was remain by the door and clutch the safety kit. At first, he would dismiss her, continuing until all he felt was mush and sweat. But soon he realized, that if he didn’t seem collected, the break would turn into a visit from Master Vernestra. So he nodded, offering a small smile as they made their way to the dinning hall.

He felt like a youngling again, aggravated during the day, nostalgic for arms he could not reach. Only to crash and subdue to the sorrow he felt once he was alone in his bunker, afraid of what he would become. As a child, the despair seemed endless, searching out with no one to hold him for solace. A Jedi Master had set him aside one day, and Sol had looked into the elder twi’lek’s yellowish eyes. He had sniffled and he had leaned into his embrace, thinking that was what he was offering. Instead, the master held him at arm’s length, looked at him with such stern eyes and said ‘A Jedi must refrain from feeling too much emotion. For if you let it grow, it will unbalance your spirit. Do not let yourself grow vulnerable; it is when you are the most sensible that these dark thoughts come to take hold of one’s mind.’

He had looked at the Jedi as if he had all the answers in the universe, drying the tears from his eyes as he nodded. His five-year-old mind had understood: there would be no shoulders to cry on or gentle hugs that could ease his doubts, for he was soon to be padawan. He understood the sacrifice of the Jedi when he looked into the Master’s eyes again. Sol saw his reflection, the smallest glimmer in the creature’s eye when he spoke. ‘Grieve if you must, but only do it once.’ He gave Sol a firm squeeze on the shoulder and left him in the dorm, a few years later he had become Master Ellim’s padawan.  

He took the advice again, continuing with his daily activities as if there were nothing amiss in the world. He still found himself scratching the plump scar of his palm whenever he could, forbidding the wound to completely heal, at least not until Sol did first. So the days grew into weeks, focusing his energy on tracking the path of this dark Master. The more he thought of the turn of events, the less sense it made to him. If Osha truly knew of the reality of what happened on Brendok, it was unlikely for her to go into a rampage. Osha who had always been a calm child, shy to speak up; she wouldn’t go against the institution in which she had grown to honor. Certainly not against him, he who had raised her and taught her. He who loved her as one did a child. He knew it was wrong to express that sort of affection over a padawan, but in the comfort of his own mind he spoke it freely.

There had to be a different reason, a much more sinister power at play. They must have seen what he saw 16 years ago, felt the overbearing signature that emanated from her, and just like back then, they were using her gullible nature against her. Sol remained in the Temple, helping where he could to track her steps, praying she would bite the bait when they laid it down.

He was meditating in the temple gardens when he felt the vibration of Mog’s steps coming close, his bubble of peace popping when he opened his eyes. The shadow of the great tree loomed over Sol, feeling the soft brush of breeze before he summoned his voice. He had found a better way of easing the dull heartache in his chest, choosing to fill the void with the hum of the Force. Trusting that if he relied on the balance of his mind, then all would be well in the bond. He looked up at Mog from his spot, he had seen the boy more times that week than he had in all his years in the Temple.

“Let me guess? Master Vernestra demands my presence?” he arched an eyebrow, half expecting the anxious chuckle he often threw him. But instead, he watched as Mog swallowed, his brow collecting atop his forehead. He stood, new-found worry pounding in his chest instead. “What is it then?”

A part of him feared that something bad had happened to Mae on the outpost, or maybe they had finally caught the dark sider.

“Senator Rayencourt has requested your presence.”

Rayencourt, he knew it’d be sooner than later before the senator found its way back into the Temple. He gave a short nod and immediately crossed the Temple, not even bothering in asking where the man was. The metal door of the control room opened before he could press a command, revealing the Senator merely feet away from Vernestra. He could sense the crude tension in the room, he couldn’t help but think that he had arrived merely minutes away from a brawl.

“Ah Master Sol, a pleasure to meet you at last.” Rayencourt crossed over to him, the corner of his mouth lifting slightly. “I have been trying to schedule a meeting with you for quite some time, but it seems you are a busy man.”

He knew he was to remain hostile and limited, only nodding and barely giving any answers. Yet, he couldn’t help the alleviating pressure that had just released from his chest. Maybe then he could finally rest, just another point off his never-ending list.

“The galaxy demands attention and so a Jedi must never rest.” He copied the smirk, clasping his hands tightly behind his back. “In what may I help you, Senator?”

“I heard you have found your soulmate, in a very unexpected way.”

Sol nodded, fighting the rush of blood that was threatening to take over his face.

“I did.”

“Did?” he caught the accusing tone in Rayencourt, his stare pinning him on the spot.

The words became caught in his throat, the blazing shame of what he had done returning in full force despite his exercises of meditation. He was taking too long before answering, he could see the suspicion in Rayencourt only multiply with each second.

“The bond has been broken.” cut Vernestra.

The Senator snickered, completely ignoring Master Vernestra’s glare.

“A bond can’t be broken. It’s like cutting the gravity that ties our system. A feather without its stem, turned into a simple speck of litter.” Rayencourt paced, the gold threads of his shift catching the light as if he were a passing star. Sol could feel every fiber in his body, he could sense them move with every breath.

“Our ritual minimizes the impact of the bond, so if you were hoping to use it for wh-”

But Rayencourt only gave an exaggerated sigh, a huff as he turned fully towards Sol.

“Is there a possibility to chat without a nanny?”

Before Vernestra could respond and scale the situation, Sol reached for the Senator. He placed a hand on his shoulder, squeezing as if they were having an amicable conversation.

“Of course, come with me.”

He didn’t look back to Vernestra, for he knew she would be heavily against him talking to the Senator alone. But Sol needed this to be done, he needed to end the Senate’s advances before he could return to the calm tranquility that only his meditations seemed to offer now. He led him back to the gardens, crossing the marked path as they ventured into a much more secluded spot. He found the old willow tree with its leaves turned yellowish; the memory of Osha coming back to him, her small face locked in concentration when he found her meditating always under the same spot. He hadn’t mentioned it the first time he found her, deciding to let her have a little piece of home even if it was synthetic.

“What would you like to discuss, Senator?” the question as obtuse as he felt.

“I don’t mean to prod into personal matters, I know how it must seem.”

Sol’s own curiosity prodding through his mask. “How do you mean?”

“Soul-bonds are a delicate topic to the Jedi, forbidden also, I believe. But to the Senate, we take pride in aiding the natural course. It isn’t appropriate of me to ask you about the bond, but you must understand?”

“Understand what?”

He could feel the fast palpitations again, the agitation ringing as if he was being watched under a microscope.

“A jedi master, finding his soul companion. That goes against your teachings.”

Replayed lectures in his mind, how he had grown sad when he realized he could never establish a connection with his bond mate. Sol, arriving on Brendok and growing restless the more he felt the pull towards the twins. How he unconsciously willed that tie to Osha, forcing something the jedi order had continuously denied him. Stil, he shook his head at Rayencourt’s words.

“Nothing that is fruit of the force could be against our teachings, Senator. We embrace them and pursue them, vital to our peace in the Galaxy.”

But he saw right through Sol’s lies, extending his hand as if asking for something.

“Your mark?” he pointed with his chin to the bondage on his hand. Ever since the Renewal Ceremony, Sol was meant to keep his hands gloveless, at least until the mark healed. But it had been weeks and it only seemed to itch and irritate at every passing second.

Sol undid the bind, revealing the redness that surrounded the blisters. Rayencourt gripped his wrist, dabbing a fresh cloth against the new leakage. He couldn’t understand what the Senator truly wanted, what ulterior motive he could have for him to serve such acts of kindness. “For a religion who vows to seek the balance and keep the ‘peace’ of the Galaxy, you fail to maintain said peace within your walls.”

The whip of reality hitting him once the words met his ears, tearing his hand from his grip.

“Why do you have such interest in my bond? What is it you really want?”

The cordiality between the two dropping, tension on Sol’s shoulders as he tried to force the truth from him. Without much of a fight, Rayencourt talked.

“This institution of yours, it is ancient and deficient. I wish to launch an internal investigation.”

He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “Why would you do such a thing?”

“Why wouldn’t I?” He began unrolling his sleeve, revealing an asymmetric scar along his forearm. “You are no longer just yourself, Master Sol. But you are an agglomeration of feelings and thoughts, shared in the spirit of your true mirror. A wonderous gift from the force and life itself, why would you choose to ignore it? To suppress a beautiful attachment just as you do all the other emotions?”

Everything in his body seemed anxious to agree with the Senator’s words, holding tightly into the dead cord as a lifeline, forcing Master Ellim’s words to the surface.  

“We don’t suppress emotions, we simple control the flow of them. If a Jedi Knight were to let it grow, it would unbalance the spirit and lead to darker emotions.”

But Rayencourt simply shook his head, warm kindness returning to his face as if he were treating with a child.

“There is no living being in the galaxy who does not already live with dark sentiments in their body. It isn’t a fight one must endure, but more so a dance. For what is to happen when that control finally snaps? What is out there in the life of someone who only knows to subdue and crush any sign of disquiet?”

All that would be left would be pure sorrow and deafening anger; nothing worse than the soul-crushing reality of realizing your life had been a mirage. Yet Sol tried to cling to the memory of his teachings, to the complete faith in the institution where he had grown in and matured. Still, he couldn’t help but ask.

“Why Mae and me? I mean, why do you seem adamant on using us as your case? There are plenty of other jedi knights with proclaimed soulmates.”

He watched him unroll his sleeve, covering the scar as he gifted him one last smile.

“Your case is the most peculiar; a jedi master finding its companion in a novice dark sider, who by all the odds in the force, is the sister of your old padawan.” Sol had to admit that once it was said out loud, it sounded as if the universe had a personal vendetta against him. The man tilted his head in farewell, eyes meeting with his one last time. “I would love to chat with Mae one of these days.”

When Master Vernestra had cornered him to ask what the Senator wanted, he had said the truth, the partial truth. Rayencourt would soon launch an internal investigation on the Temple and the Order; his plan would be to prey on the emotionally unstable. Vernestra immediately pulled into action, taking Mog with her as she delivered the information to the High Council.

What he did not confess, was how he had brought a smidge of hope to Sol’s dying spirit. Replaying the words ‘a bond is never broken’ until he was alone in his rooms, staring at the white ceiling with anticipation. He closed his eyes and evened his breathing, feeling the hum of the lights along the wall, the sway of the planet as he gripped the bond. It felt as dull as it had been since the ceremony. He toyed with the link, twisting the invisible string as he willed his mind to blur, only a clear image in its full glory. He pictured her brown eyes, big and alluring, the bud of her nose, scrunching lightly when he gifted her the scented balm she had asked for. Terse skin, so alive and warm, locs ablaze in the red that caught from the sunlight. There was still no answer from the other end of the bond, and for the first time in what had been painful days, Sol slept at ease. He didn’t know if she could feel his presence as much as she used to, but he held on to the hope just as hard as he held to his memories of her.

Chapter Text

There was no voice at the other end of the bond, no growl or shove. It took a lot of faith for Sol to not give up, hoping it was merely an interference in their great distance. And yet, he trailed the phantom thread as a lifeline, carrying through his day as a force-ghost would. Jecki remained by his side at all times, the brow on her forehead forever creased at the thought of losing her Master. The longer he stayed in the temple with no news of Mae or Osha, the more desperate he seemed, almost as if a bomb had been placed in his chest. The minutes passing and the days growing endless, his eyes bloodshot and mind a whirlwind. He had failed the twins to such a great extent, he deserved the never endless paranoia. His hands always reaching for a pair of arms that didn’t appear, his voice calling out for a name that didn’t respond.

Had he been building his own pyre? Filled of regrets and unsaid words, actions that could’ve saved himself and the twins?

He would dream of Mae, her lips twisted in a snarl: ever the abrasive cub. Sometimes she would sink her teeth into him, scratching and cutting his flesh to pieces. In those dreams, he would succumb to the pain and plead for her forgiveness. In other dreams, he saw her in that cold cell where they probably kept her in the outpost, her skin feverish and locs tangled into a knot. She would look up at him, weary eyes filled with unshed tears. Will you fail me again, Jedi? her words unsaid but clear in his head. To let her rot in that cell would be the equivalent of letting her fall down that bridge all over again.

So he’d wake in sweat, grasping the thread that tied them, murmuring words she would never hear. It was his one consolation; that not even some old ritualistic formality could break what was given by the force. Sol knew it was wrong to hold on to such thoughts and sentiments, but after his chat with Senator Rayencourt, it was as if a balm had placed over his soul. A deep white cloak that was waiting to be lifted. He would talk to her, tell her about his day even thought he could practically hear her voice calling him to silence. The mere fantasy was enough to get him through the days. He kept the dream for as long as he needed, just so he could function as a member of the Order. Picturing her just a few steps behind him, her brown eyes looking at him with a hatred that would slowly subdue to annoyance, maybe into some kind of affection. Not love, no, he would never wish for that. But a type of fondness as one does to the blinding light when waking up or the ache of the stomach when one has laughed for too long. It was enough for him to imagine a place where that could happen.

He was training with the younglings when he felt it, a shock so potent and strong, it felt as if someone was pulling his heart out of his body. His skin immediately going cold, eyes wide as his sense tried to regain control of himself. But it was hard for Sol to get a grasp, feeling his sight blur and mold. Suddenly he wasn’t in the temple but rather running down unknown corridors. His breath was not his own, hands fumbling on the clasps of a window. In the far behind, smashing and screams. He tried to see his surroundings, to understand what he was seeing. But soon he was falling down a hill, knees scrapping and head pounding.

Help me.

He heard her voice as loud and clear as if they were in the same room, her fear crashing over him like a current. Mae. It was then that Sol recognized the scenery of Barafye, the thick trees and pine needles flying to his eyes. He ached to reach out for her, to lift her from the ground and wrap her in his cloak, but the fear and dread she bled into the bond was enough to paralyze him. He heard the hum of a saber, cracking leaves as a warm red glow illuminated the corner of his -her- eyes. Sol tried to speak, to ease her mind and will her to move forward. Instead, she crawled through the duff, hands shaking as she sunk into a corner.

Please, please, please.

It was the last thing he heard, his vision suddenly clearing only to find himself down on the floor with worried little eyes staring at him. Jecki was beside him, holding his shoulder as if he might fall. He felt his throat dry, the remnants of Mae’s fear slowly starting to dwindle, mixing into worry and distress.

“Master, how are you feeling?” it was Yord’s voice who brought him out of the haze, his eyes searching for any sign of injury or hurt in his force signature.

Sol simply nodded, lifting from the ground as if it had always been his intention to have a spasm in the middle of class.

“I’m fine, I just need to talk to Master Vernestra.”

He tried to ignore the raised eyebrow that Yord threw him, opting for a small smile in an attempt to relieve his worry. But the effect was null to the young knight, simply held him tightly by the elbow.

“Master, I think it’s best if you rest.” Intervened Jecki, dismissing Yord as she took his place.

The mere idea of staying put made Sol feel sick, specially when he knew that Mae was in danger. He had to move, and he had to do it quick. He shook his head, this time with more conviction.

“I must speak with Master Vernestra.”

They trailed behind him, following as he crossed the temple. Sol tried to reach through the bond but it all felt silent, so perfectly still that it terrified him. Could she be–? No, he did not dare imagine it, much more think of it. Surely he would feel the moment of the disconnect between them, considering that the wall he had built was now nothing but rubble and waste. When he took deep breaths, he could almost see her phantom figure. Sol stood outside Vernestra’s office, his heart pounding as the metallic doors opened.

I’m coming. A message he willed through the bond, loud and clear.

When Vernestra looked at him, it was as if she immediately knew there was something wrong. Sol stepped through, not waiting for an invitation, his chest straining with pure tension and anguish. Jecki and Yord remained in the hall, their looks of discomfort evident as he waved them off. He knew that they would wait outside for as long as he needed, and yet that only made him more anxious.

“Sol, what brings yo–”

“Mae is in danger, we must send some troops to Barafye. I fear her old Master has found her. I’ll be leaving in a couple of minutes.” The words falling out in a rapid flow, his boots ready to march out.

But Vernestra held out, a hand in the air like a command. “Wait, wait.”

Sol could feel the time ticking away. The longer he stayed rooted, the more in danger Mae seemed to be. He could only hope that she was well hidden and safe.

He tried again. “I had a vision of Mae, as clear as I’m seeing you right this moment. She was running away; something was chasing her.” He recalled the dream, her voice fractured and hands shaking along the ground. “She was terrified.”

The simple act of putting her emotions into words was enough to make it real, feeling as if a part of himself was trapped in carbonite. He needed to reach her and Vernestra was not making things easy for him. So be it, he thought. He looked at the Jedi dead straight, jaw fixed to make his point clear.

“I’m going to get her. I’ll find her and I’ll bring her back.” He was halfway through the room when Vernestra stopped him, a hand firmly against his shoulder.

 Her eyes looked at him with apprehension, thin lips tucked tightly as she willed him to stay in place.

“I’ll establish contact with the outpost, to know what has exactly happened. But you, Sol, you must stay here, in the Temple.”

Sol felt a laugh come out of him, shaky and weak. She was wrong and it had been their fault. He had been too much of a coward, letting Mae be shipped to an unknown planet all alone, simply to safeguard his safety. A safety that was not even promised. And in doing so, he had subjected Mae to another scene of horror. He could not care any longer to stay in the Temple; if his welfare caused Mae to be the center target of this dark user, he would much rather stay exposed and try to keep her safe.

“I shouldn’t have let her go. I shouldn’t have kept her away.” He knew he wasn’t helping his case, blending feelings he was too afraid to acknowledge. There was an irrational dread that was overtaking him, still he tried to maintain a shred of his façade. He shrugged Vernestra’s palm, feeling fresh anger beginning to pool in his head. “We are wasting time.”

But the mirialan didn’t move, simply looking at him, eyes calculating.

“You saw a vision?”

Sol nodded, realizing that her concern did not lie with the stray girl that was fighting for her life in those very moments, but it was rather in the Jedi himself. In the golden thread that seemed to glow all over his body.

“I did. I don’t know how it happened but I know what I saw. This was no illusion or dream, it felt as if I was running with her.”

Had they been different people in different parts of the Galaxy, Vernestra would have clapped and hugged him, rejoicing that the wall he had placed had finally crumbled. What he received instead was hard eyes and a low murmur. He knew what it meant, for Sol to feel Mae as clearly as the first time they bonded, as real as the texture on his robes. It meant that they had failed, and that a sense of allurement was set.

“We must put you through the ceremony again.”

It was an insult, or at least that was how it felt to Sol. His head suddenly feeling too tight, the pressure in the room too much.

“I will not do such thing.”

Incredulity reigned over him, his heart blasting at his throat at the idea of going through the fierce ritual of the Renewal Ceremony again. It hadn’t worked at its fullest the first time, and Sol had created the weakest shield he could’ve conjured. There were cracks in the wall, but it was enough to hold steady. It had taken Mae just a few kicks and she tore that barrier into rubbish. He had yearned for her callings, for the sweet scent of her being, for the warm enveloping of her aura. He had beaten himself over and over again, regretting every second of when his own self-righteousness had won him over. And in the process, it had destroyed his soul. He would very well choose to sink to the fires of Mustafar than go through the whole ordeal again.

“You must cut the tie, reject the bond once more.”

It irritated Sol that she could talk so freely about his bond, be so loud about something so intricate to him. He felt his ears heat, the thorn of anger piercing way too high up his rib. He tried soothing his face.

“I will not break it. I cannot fail her once again.”

Sol had understood too late just how blind he had been, how he had chosen the Order once again instead of the one thing that truly mattered. Rayencourt’s words echoing in his head like a mighty drum: A wonderous gift from the force and life itself, why would you choose to ignore it? Who was Sol to decline such a gift? The one thing he had aspired for and to simply turn it away at the first sign disquiet? If the force had tied them together, the reason was much greater than anything he could imagine. If he failed Mae, he was failing himself.

“This bond will only strengthen the attachment you already have on her, on the twins.” Vernestra stepped closer, almost like a threat when she stared him down. “And attachments can only lead you to a dark path, Jedi.”

The word was meant like a slap across the face, dropping the tittle as if it was worthless upon his name.  And maybe it was, after all, he had always suffered in his inability to remain neutral and indifferent. But that was not what he had loved about the Jedi Order to begin with. He was pulled in by the sense of justice, the serene force in their signatures and the endless compassion they had offered him when he was a child. The vision he once had of the Order as a youngling was nothing of the kind of man he had grown to be. Always afraid of his own emotions, too calm and reserved. Sol wasn’t sure anymore if that was the kind of life he truly wanted. After all the mistakes and the shameless guilt, there was not a bone in him that resembled a spine of integrity or truth. Not when he was lying to himself the whole time.

Master Vernestra only seemed to finger his wounds, digging her green digits until black blood oozed out. “And considering with whom the Force has tied you with, I fear that path may be calling to you.”

That flared him up, straightening as he stepped closer. His hands fisted at his sides, controlled so he wouldn’t take hold of her robes and shake her against a wall. She was doubting him, seeing the man instead of the friend or the padawan she had known. He could see her point, a question he would have asked himself had it been someone else. If the force ties you with someone troubled and corrupt, what does that mean about you? Had Vernestra seen his true self and repelled what she saw? Still, he knew it was all wrong, because in Vernestra’s eyes, Mae was the vile dark sider, pulling the string in Sol to draw him to the dark path. He lamented himself once more, the guilt enough to choke him if he let it.

Had he been more valiant or heroic as he thought, he would’ve confessed to his crime sixteen years ago. He would have saved Mae from a life filled of loneliness and heartache. And he himself wouldn’t have been forced to believe in a lie of his own morality. Sol had tried for the past sixteen years to make amends with Osha, to forgive and make peace with what he had done. But it was when he faced Mae in Olega, when the soulmate bond snapped in place that he knew he couldn’t. There was only one blameworthy person between the two, and to his own horror, the guilty roamed free while the innocent remained in chains.

“She is not a dark user,” He tried, his hands tightly clasped behind his back to ease their shaking. “She is merely a girl who has suffered too much pain and sorrow, such so I cannot bare but imagine it. Mae was used for this unknown master’s will.”

He tried again, forcing his eyes to soften and remain calm around Vernestra. It felt obscene to place Master Ellim’s words on his mouth, especially when all his lessons had been futile and wasted on him.

“Were we not taught to be a compassionate nature? Empathetic by the force? Let me help Mae. I’ve already done her more harm than I could imagine. Let me remedy the faults I have created.”

Vernestra’s stance did not change, grounded with a semi hostile regard.

“Because she is a girl. That image of her that still clouds your eyes, of the young child you once encountered in Brendok.” He remembered Mae, nothing but a child with her short locs swaying in the breeze. Her untrusting eyes when she appeared at the stationed ship for their test. Sol remembered how hard he tried to keep in check while Indara eyed him, as if reading his emotions like a datapad. He had wanted to wrap the twins in his cloak and assure them that they would be safe, specially after Mae had much as confessed for darker intentions inside the coven. After the tragedy, Sol knew he had acted too brashly, hadn’t even given a thought before igniting his saber as if it were a muscle. He had always strived to protect the vulnerable, the Jedi Code too engraved in his head. Maybe Vernestra had seen that too, how oblivious and rash he became at the sight of the forsaken. “I fear where her ‘innocence’ will take you.”

Sol was jumping headfirst into his impulsive thoughts, demanding for something he knew he could not have. His heart broke and it ached, the pull of the planet rooting him to the spot. He couldn’t let Mae die, not again. There was a decision to be made and the longer he took in choosing, the less there would be to save. Suddenly, there it was once again, the soft pressure in his chest, a warmth that wrapped his worries in a mantle. He could’ve sobbed, fallen to his knees of the pure relief. She’s alive and she’s well. His own phantom fingers caressing the thread, wishing for nothing more but to interlace his with hers. Sol knew then and there, just as easily as he had known sixteen years ago. He would plunge into the fire again and again, lungs filled with smoke as long as it meant he kept her at his side. Attachment was an omen of destruction and corruption, but it was that same attachment that had kept his heart beating in the past weeks.

When he looked at Vernestra again, he was ready for her words.

“I’ll be leaving in a couple of minutes.”

Her eyes widened for a fraction of a second, chin held high with what he presumed to be an ultimatum.

“You leave now, Jedi, and I doubt you’ll have a place inside the Order again.”

He’d be exiled, expelled from the one place he had known his entire life. The sudden fear of what Master Vernestra was implying was enough to stall Sol for a moment. He had been acting so rashly, letting his emotions overtake his senses, it was only a matter of time before the High Council decided to demote him. He couldn’t conceive a world where he wasn’t a jedi knight, the mere thought seemed so strange to Sol. But when he tried to correct the situation, nothing came out of his mouth. Instead, all he felt was the agitated pulse of his heart reminding him why he was so willing to throw it all away. He could fix it later, maybe plead to the Council for understanding. Once he had Mae in his grasp and knew she was safe, then he could take all the time in the galaxy to explain his actions.

He braced himself, pushing the clasps from his gloves, extending his fingers before removing the piece. A part of him was grateful to finally remove the item, the sensitive skin of his palm finally breathing after weeks of bandaging and salve. Sol couldn’t help but look at the bond mark, so transfigured and sordid, it would never be as lovely and soft as it had originally been. And it was that thought that sealed his mind.

 “I shouldn’t have let her go.”

He placed the leather upon her desk, a low bow before he exited her office. He’d completely forgotten that Yord and Jecki remained outside the metal doors, their faces blank before realizing that he wasn’t wearing his gloves. It was Yord who spoke first, trailing beside him as Sol made his way through the halls.

“Master, is all well? Where are your gloves?”

“And why are we heading towards the landing port?” Jecki’s blatant curiosity surprised him, looking at his padawan for a single moment.

It occurred to him then, what would happen to Jecki if he wasn’t allowed back into the Order? Most likely that she would be reassigned to a new Master and soon she’d forget of the troubled Jedi who had once been her Master. Sol couldn’t help the flash of sadness that hit him, the thought of Jecki so easily replacing him after he had practically seen her grow up.

Sol didn’t know just how much he could confess to the two, opting for a small white lie.

“There are some urgent matters I must attend to for Master Vernestra in the outer rim, nothing that won’t take just a few days.”

Yord intercepted his path before he could assure them that he’d be out of dangers way. He looked panic, eyes wide as he stepped closer to Sol, voice nothing but a murmur he could barely decipher.

“Is this about Osha and her dark Master?”

Sol frowned, considering the tittle a little too obnoxious.

“No, Yord. This is a diplomatic matter.”

While it did seem to calm down Yord, it didn’t ease Jecki’s increasing suspicion. A part of him was proud at her keen eyes; his padawan always the observant and bright jedi.

“I’ll bring our bags then, Master.”

“No!” he intercepted, his voice coming a little louder than what he had wished. To Yord, it passed as simple commotion, but to Jecki; her eyes narrowed and her jaw tightened. “This is an affair I must attend to by myself.”

He knew she didn’t believe him, and still he smiled at her, hoping she would piece it all together once he was well away from the Temple. Yord gave him a weak smile, ever complacent as Sol left them at the door of the landing port.

“May the Force be with you, Master Sol.”

He took the blessing, holding the Force tightly so it guided him directly to Mae.

The small ship lulled when it entered the planet, the immediate green of the forest blinding his sight from the small building that was the jedi outpost. He had been lucky enough to catch a small freighter in the landing port, it had carried supplies that could last him a month if he rationed correctly. With his gloves gone and the remainder that whoever was haunting Mae most likely also wanted Sol gone, it was best for him to lie hidden. Opting to remove his thick robes and change into the spare linen from the supplies. It made him feel unnatural, as if he was wearing his trousers inside out. When the ship descended into the thick of the forest, the dread of the day was coming back to him, an eagerness clinging to his spine as the thread inside of him seemed to vibrate for Mae. She was so close; he could feel it in the way his bones cracked with every step he took.

He had tried to conceal the ship, hoping no villagers were curious enough to come looking for answers or something to smuggle. Sol wasn’t even sure if it was wise to go to the outpost first, to display his authority and asked for a statement of what had happened. It was best if he sought Mae first and demanded answers later, at least then he could partially be at ease. He closed his eyes, concentrating on the buzz in his chest, the electric hum that coursed through the bond. While he couldn’t picture her as vividly as he had in the vision, he could feel her presence. She shone like a beacon in his mind, a flood of emotions surrounding him as the door between them opened once again. He felt her fear, her sadness, her hunger as if she were inhabiting in his body. What surprised him the most was how welcoming she seemed, pouring out an eagerness as if she was waiting for him to come and catch her. It didn’t help that he was desperate to see her, to hold her.

He followed his senses, guiding him as sharp as if an arrow was stuck in his rib. The stiff pine needles scratching his face, drawing wet blood to his cheeks. While Barafye was warm and humid, the deeper he got into the forest, the chillier it was. He wondered if Mae was clothed enough to bare the night, was she exposed and wounded? His feet only increased with each beat of his worry, her name stuck in his throat, afraid that if he called out for her, the dark being from the vision would emerge.

Sweat began rolling down his back, anguish in its clearest form as he tried to hold the bond tightly, reassuring Mae that he would find her and keep her safe. The birds above seemed to echo his mind, a soft tune as the trees extended, it was in a sudden flash that everything seemed brighter and ablaze. The phantom string beginning to shake as if Mae was pulling it too. His heartbeat in his ears as he began running through the turf; she was so close, he could feel it in the way the trees seemed to spread and clear his path.

Mae. Mae. Mae.

Breath puffing and hair sticking to his face, the mark on his palm itching uncontrollably with every pass of seconds. His eyes scanned every inch of greenery, hoping to catch her stumbling form any minute. His instincts took him to a small clearing, a thin lake settled in the middle. He felt it again, the hard pull in the bond, this time insistent and strong, willing him to face her. Sol turned on impulse, his pulse increasing when he heard the crunch of dried needles.

Mae. Mae. Mae.

The first thing he saw was the sway of her locs, the tattered jumpsuit, brown eyes that gleamed too bright and too startled. Sol didn’t realize in what moment it had been, but suddenly he was running towards her, extending his arms and wrapping her in his embrace. His nose sinking into the wild reddish locs, inhaling the moss that clung to her hair mixed with the distinctive spiced scent she carried. A laugh escaped him, a soft giggle as he opened his mouth and breathed her in: that scent, she had kept the scented balm he gifted her. He wished to squeeze her, to fuse his flesh with her own. He felt like he could finally breathe, his body fully coming at ease. She was here, in the flesh and in spirit. He could touch her and she would not slip between his fingers, or disappear in a whiff of smoke like she had in his dreams. His spirit radiating in pure glee. His half in the universe, the stars to his moon. She was finally there.

His bliss cut short when she pushed him away, hard enough for him to stumble. Her features hard and bitter, as if she was irritated that he had found her. He didn’t dare approach her, simply observing in case she chose to run. But all she did was huff, hands balled and eyes gleaming with tears. It was a moment before she talked.

“What are you doing here?”

He caught the annoyed edge to her words, incredulity in his head when he realized what she meant.

“I saw you in danger, I’ve come to take you somewhere safe.”

But Mae scoffed, eyes rolling as she slapped a tear away.

“It wasn’t supposed to be you.” She shoved past him, small steps as if she were following an invisible path. “It shouldn’t be you.”

It worried Sol to see her that way, eyes lost and sad. He kept just a few feet away from her, trailing like a lost feather in the wind. The itchiness in his palm returned, causing the redness around his wound to inflame. Normally, Sol would ignore it, letting the irritation remind him of what he’d lost. But in that moment, he watched as Mae reached her own mark, nails scratching absentmindedly as red painful marks dressed her skin. He reached for her, tearing her arm away as he pressed his cold palm over it. The sudden contact made her jump, her lips parting but she simply stared to where his bare fingers wrapped around skin. The itchiness was gone, replaced by soft warmth and a fizzing touch.

He needed to know who she meant, what had happened. His thumb stroking idly against her perfect scar, so odd and flawless to his eyes. A strange desire enveloped him, a tenderness that pulled at him, wishing he could press his own lips against the mark. To shower it in a kiss and murmur an apology; an apology for being selfish, for disfiguring its twin. All he could truly do was ease the sensitivity out, taking advantage of Mae’s willingness as she simply stared at their joined marks.

He tried again.

“What has happened here, Mae?”

It broke the spell, she returned to her usual demeanor, tugging her arm free and crossing her arms. Her brow creased slightly, as if debating whether to talk or not. He knew she hated it when he accessed the bond, specially when she was merely steps away from him. And yet he did, feeling her worry palpitating like a heartbeat in their thread. She swallowed, head held high when she looked at him.

“He came for me.” The worry in the bond quickly transforming into ice cold fear. “He tried to kill me.”