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From his earliest lessons, he could remember gentle voices, his teachers, encouraging him to close his eyes. Let the Force guide him, they’d said, and even only barely knowing what that meant, he had felt the warmth of their guidance, a deep trust that they wanted the best for him and his crechemates. The feeling of home.
He felt that same feeling now, as the Temple healers attended to him. For all that he’d absorbed the lessons of not letting his sight distract him from what he sensed in the Force, it was still an adjustment to be completely without it.
Some level of vision might return with time, they told him. But it would never be what it once was. He would have to learn to rely even more on his other senses: hearing, touch, and most of all, the Force itself.
That, at least, he was well prepared for.
He could sense as visitors dropped by. Friends and passing acquaintances alike, all came to check in on how he was recovering. He could no longer see their faces, but he knew them in the Force.
And he knew the warmth they brought, the warmth of home and family.