The sky shone red through the outer windows of the Temple with the fading sun, it was nearly time for the little Jedi of diurnal persuasions to head back to the Creche.
Reva wavered, distracted by the view outside. She could hear her friends giggling up ahead. The slow, lazy returning march of a successful day.
She couldn’t stand to join them.
She didn’t know why.
Smoke, from the other side of the Temple.
Reva raced to the window, terror crawling and writhing inside her heart.
Her siblings continued to laugh and smile, she could hear the telltale squawk of a child playfully shoved into a pillar.
Her heart was pounding, thundering in her chest.
There was nothing there.
She gripped the ledge of the window but no matter which way she twisted her body, no matter how hard she strained her eyes against the setting sun.
The smoke wasn’t there.
It should have been a relief.
Her heart wouldn’t stop, couldn’t stop.
She had seen the smoke.
She had seen it.
Reva took a step back, away from the window and its strange sights.
Away from the terror that threatened to steal her breath away.
She took another step back, failing to glance behind her as she did so.
A body, larger and stronger than her own, stumbled.
It didn’t hurt, Reva didn’t even feel it really.
She should have been paying attention.
“Whoa, careful there Initiate.” A voice admonished, gentle like nearly everyone in the Temple was.
“Sorry.” Reva turned to bow.
“That’s alright.” Knight Skywalker waved her off, an uncomfortable smile on his face.
Reva returned the smile and nearly turned to see what Sena’s face looked like, they’d been rambling to their crèchemates for weeks about… oh, right. Her friends had moved on. She could still hear them in the distance.
“You doing alright?” Knight Skywalker asked. He leaned over her, to see if she was hurt most likely.
The waning light of evening caught his eyes and for a moment Reva was sure they’d flashed yellow.
There was an older near-human Initiate in another Clan with golden eyes. Reva thought they were beautiful.
“I’m fine.” She stared at her shoes.
“Are you sure?” His voice echoed in the silence of the Temple.
That wasn’t right.
The Temple wasn’t silent.
The Temple was never silent.
She strained her ears.
Shifting leather, loud as Knight Skywalker folded his arms.
An impatient sigh.
Her heartbeat.
“Whatever.” She nearly jumped, glancing up without a thought.
His eyes were blue.
Of course they were blue.
They had always been blue.
He smiled. It was a crooked, strained expression.
She bowed again.
The Temple was a terrible, silent thing.
Reva turned, Knight Skywalker did too.
Her family.
Hadn’t they gone on ahead?
Why were they...
The Temple was a terrible, silent thing.
Nothing but creaking leather.
A mechanical sound.
Her heartbeat.
Her siblings did not laugh.
Did not smile.
Did not breathe.
A deep breath from behind, crackling through some sort of distortion.
She whirled around.
Knight Skywalker’s eyes were yellow.
Not golden, like the older Initiate’s.
Not kind, not mischievous, not even proud.
Reva had some inkling he could be arrogant.
No, there was nothing but hate behind them.
She took a step back.
He said nothing.
Her foot brushed against something.
Reva didn’t look down.
Didn’t need to.
She knew this scene.
The body was still warm.
If she leaned down to touch.
It wouldn’t be for much longer.
Soon it would be cold and stiff.
Soon there would be nothing left.
Darth Vader took a step forward.
Like none of it affected him.
Like none of it mattered.
Like he hadn’t destroyed everything dear to her.
Like a whirlwind, unstoppable and uncaring of those in its wake.
Reva hated him.
She wanted to scream.
Darth Vader took a step forward.
Reva found she couldn’t move, couldn’t speak.
She wanted, more than anything, to have a lightsaber in her hands.
She knew, more than anything, it would not matter if she did.
Reva hated him.
It felt like a betrayal.
There was nothing and no one left to betray.
Reva looked into yellow eyes and wondered if she looked in a mirror if that horrible, ugly color would stare back at her.
She hated him.
It made her weak.
It made her strong.
His eyes told her he didn’t care either way.