The morning of the Initiate trials dawned clear and bright.
I stood outside the training chamber with the other younglings, my heart pounding in my small chest. Around me, I could hear nervous whispers, the rustle of robes, the soft hum of anticipation.
This was it. The moment that would determine which clan we'd be assigned to, which path our training would take.
Derren stood beside me, his blue eyes wide with barely contained excitement. "I can't believe it's finally here," he whispered. "Do you think we'll all end up in the same clan?"
"I hope so," I said, and I meant it. Over the past months, Derren had become more than just a fellow youngling, he was a friend, someone I could rely on, someone who made this strange new life feel a little less overwhelming.
Seris stood on my other side, her posture perfect, her expression calm. But I could feel the tension radiating from her through the Force, the nervous energy she was trying so hard to hide.
"You'll do fine," I said quietly.
She glanced at me, her silver eyes unreadable. "I know."
But there was something in her voice, a hint of uncertainty, maybe even fear, that made me want to reach out, to offer comfort. Before I could, the door to the training chamber opened, and a Jedi I didn't recognize stepped out.
"Youngling Mira," he called. "You may enter."
Mira, the Twi'lek girl, took a deep breath and walked through the door. It closed behind her with a soft hiss.
We waited.
One by one, younglings were called. Some emerged quickly, their faces bright with relief. Others took longer, and when they finally came out, they looked exhausted but proud.
"Youngling Cain."
I took a breath, centered myself, and walked through the door.
The chamber beyond was circular, with high ceilings and smooth stone floors. Three Jedi Masters stood in the center: Master Yoda, Master Plo Koon, and Master Fay.
I'd seen Master Fay from a distance before, but up close, she was breathtaking. Her long blonde hair seemed to glow in the soft light, and her presence in the Force was like standing near a calm, deep lake. She radiated peace and wisdom in a way that made me want to kneel and ask for guidance.
"Hello, youngling Cain," Master Plo Koon said, his voice warm despite the mask he wore. "Are you ready to proceed with your Initiate trials?"
I bowed deeply. "Yes, Masters. I am ready."
Yoda nodded, his ears twitching. "Good, good. First, recite the Jedi Code, you will. And explain what it means."
I took a breath, organizing my thoughts. This was a test not just of memory, but of understanding.
"There is no emotion, there is peace," I began. "This means a Jedi must master their emotions, not suppress them entirely, but achieve a state of inner peace where emotions inform rather than control."
I paused, gauging their reactions. Master Fay's expression was serene, attentive. Master Plo Koon nodded slightly. Yoda's eyes were unreadable.
"There is no ignorance, there is knowledge,"
I continued. "This tells us to commit to the constant pursuit of knowledge, to continuously seek understanding and expand our awareness rather than accepting ignorance."
"There is no passion, there is serenity. This means we must control our passions, channeling them into calm and focused action rather than being driven by them."
"There is no chaos, there is harmony. Jedi should seek to create and maintain harmony, promoting balance and unity in the galaxy through their actions."
"There is no death, there is the Force. This teaches us to see death as a natural part of the Force, a transformation rather than an absolute end, and not to fear it. But to welcome it like a old friend when our time has come."
The silence that followed felt heavy, weighted with significance.
Master Fay was the first to speak. "That was an excellent recitation and explanation, youngling Cain. Your understanding goes beyond mere memorization."
Master Plo Koon nodded. "Indeed. You may proceed to the next chamber."
I bowed again and moved toward the door on the far side of the room. As I passed Master Yoda, I felt his gaze on me, penetrating and ancient. But he said nothing, and I didn't look back.
The next chamber was smaller, with cushions arranged in a circle. Several younglings were already there, Mira, Teeko, and a few others I recognized. They looked up as I entered, and Mira gave me a nervous smile.
"How did it go?" she whispered.
"Fine, I think," I said, settling onto a cushion beside her.
One by one, the rest of the younglings filtered in. Derren arrived looking relieved, his grin wide. "That wasn't so bad! Master Yoda asked me about the Code, and I remembered everything!"
Barriss entered next, her expression calm and centered. She caught my eye and smiled, and I felt some of my own tension ease.
And then Seris walked in.
She moved with her usual grace, her posture perfect, but I could see the tightness around her eyes, the way her hands clenched briefly at her sides before she forced them to relax.
She sat beside me without a word, and I leaned closer. "You okay?"
"I'm fine," she said, but her voice was tight. Before I could press further, Master Plo Koon and Master Fay entered the chamber.
"Now, younglings," Master Plo said, his voice carrying easily through the space, "pay attention. We shall begin with your next trial: the Trial of Self-Discipline."
The room fell silent.
"You will each make a choice," Master Fay continued, her voice like music. "To either engage in a lightsaber duel or to meditate. There is no wrong answer. Choose what you believe will best demonstrate your discipline and connection to the Force."
She gestured to one side of the room. "Those who wish to duel, come to Master Plo Koon. Those who wish to meditate, come to me."
Most of the younglings moved toward Master Plo Koon immediately. Lightsaber duels were exciting, tangible, a chance to show off their skills. Only a handful, including Barriss, moved toward Master Fay.
I stood with Derren and Seris, the three of us naturally gravitating together.
Master Plo Koon approached us, his presence commanding but not intimidating. "Would you three younglings mind dueling each other at the same time?"
I glanced at Derren and Seris. Derren's eyes lit up with excitement. Seris's expression was unreadable, but I could feel her anticipation through the Force.
"We'd be honored, Master," I said.
The other younglings formed a circle around us as we moved to the center of the chamber. We ignited our training sabers, the familiar hum filling the air, and took our stances.
Form I. The foundation.
"Begin," Master Plo Koon said.
I moved first, launching a downward strike at Derren. He blocked, his stance solid, and I immediately transitioned into a parry as Seris came at me from the side. Her blade whistled through the air, fast and precise, and I barely managed to deflect it.
Derren pressed forward with a series of powerful strikes, each one carrying the full weight of his body. He was strong, stronger than I'd given him credit for, and his attacks forced both Seris and me onto the defensive.
Seris moved like water, flowing around Derren's strikes with elegant footwork. She dodged, parried, and then slipped in fast, precise counterattacks that kept both of us on our toes. I found myself falling into a rhythm, reading their movements, anticipating their strikes. The Force flowed through me, sharpening my senses, and suddenly the world seemed to slow.
I could see Derren winding up for another powerful downward strike. I Could see Seris positioning herself to attack me from behind while I was distracted.
I moved.
Stepping into Derren's strike, parrying it upward, and used the momentum to spin toward Seris. But she was already moving, her blade coming at me in a horizontal slash that would have caught me if I hadn't ducked.
And then something changed.
Seris reached out with the Force, and Derren's training saber, which he'd dropped when I disarmed him, flew through the air into her free hand.
She stood there, both sabers ignited, her stance shifting into something I recognized as Jar'kai. The dual-wielding form.
"Impressive, but do you actually know how to dual wield?" I murmured.
She didn't respond. She just attacked.
Her strikes came faster now, a whirlwind of motion that forced me back. I switched to Form II, Makashi, using its precision and economy of motion to deflect her attacks. But she was relentless, her blades coming at me from multiple angles, testing my defenses.
I could see the inexperience in her technique, the way she focused too much on my sides and arms, leaving other openings unguarded. She was powerful, but she hadn't fully mastered the form yet.
I waited for my moment. Hoping what little I knew about Makashi could keep going.
It came when she overcommitted to a side slash, putting too much weight into the strike. I sidestepped, deflected her blade, and moved in for a thrust toward her chest. At the same moment, she brought her second blade around in a counter. We froze, both of our sabers inches from landing clean strikes.
"That's enough," Master Plo Koon's voice cut through the chamber.
We deactivated our sabers and stepped back, both of us breathing hard. Around us, the other younglings stared with wide eyes.
"You two are finished with your trials," Master Plo said, and there was something like approval in his voice.
Seris looked at me, confusion clear on her face. "Master, are you saying we failed?"
"No," Master Plo said. "You both passed. And more than that, you demonstrated something remarkable."
"What do you mean, Master?" I asked.
"As you dueled," he explained, "you both began to move so fast that you became blurs. The Force was flowing through you with such intensity that even I had difficulty tracking your movements."
I blinked, surprised. I'd felt the Force during the duel, yes, but I hadn't realized we'd been moving that fast.
Master Plo turned to Seris. "Youngling Seris, where did you learn Jar'kai?"
Seris hesitated, then bowed her head. "I saw a Padawan practicing the form in one of the training halls. I... I've been practicing it in secret."
"Are you interested in learning that saber style formally?" Master Plo asked.
Seris glanced at me, and I saw something in her expression, uncertainty, maybe, or a desire for approval. "No, Master. I only wanted to surprise youngling Cain in our duel. I didn't think it would work."
"What are you talking about Seris, it did work," I said, smiling. "You were amazing. I could barely keep up."
Her cheeks flushed, and her ears twitched. "I... thank you."
"I think we should learn Jar'kai together," I said. "If you're interested."
She looked at me for a long moment, then nodded slowly. "I'll consider it."
Master Plo gestured for us to join the others, and we moved to the side of the chamber. Derren approached, grinning despite the sweat dripping down his face.
"That was incredible," he said. "You two were like lightning."
"You weren't bad yourself," I said. "Those strikes of yours are no joke."
He laughed. "Yeah, but I need to work on my defense. Seris took me out in like three moves."
Seris's lips twitched in what might have been a smile. "You left yourself open. But you have potential."
Coming from her, that was high praise.
Later, in the assembly hall, we gathered for the clan assignments.
The hall was vast, its floor marked with symbols representing the various training clans: Bear, Hawk-Bat, Thranta, and others.
Younglings stood in nervous clusters, whispering to each other, their eyes fixed on the Masters standing at the front of the room.
Master Yoda stepped forward, his gimer stick tapping against the floor.
"Proud of you all, I am," he said, his voice carrying through the hall. "Completed your trials, you have. Now, assigned to your clans, you will be. Listen carefully."
He began calling names, one by one. Each youngling stepped forward, received their assignment, and moved to join their new clan.
"Youngling Cain," Yoda called.
I stepped forward, my heart pounding.
"Bear Clan," he declared.
I nodded and moved to the section marked with the Bear Clan symbol. A moment later, I heard Seris's name.
"Youngling Seris. Bear Clan."
She joined me, her expression carefully neutral, but I caught the faint hint of relief in her eyes.
"Youngling Derren. Bear Clan."
Derren practically bounced over to us, his grin wide enough to split his face.
"Youngling Barriss. Bear Clan."
Barriss walked over with her usual calm grace, and when she stood beside me, she smiled. "Looks like we're together."
"Looks like it," I said, and I couldn't help but smile back.
The four of us stood together as the rest of the assignments were called out. And as I looked at them, Seris with her fierce determination, Derren with his easy warmth, Barriss with her quiet wisdom, I felt something I hadn't felt in a long time.
Hope.
Maybe I didn't have to face the future alone. Maybe, with the right people beside me, I could actually make a difference.
The months that followed were a blur of training and growth.
We learned Form II in earnest now, and I threw myself into mastering it. Makashi felt natural to me, its precision and elegance matching the way my adult mind approached combat. But I was careful not to outpace the others too much, to let Seris and Derren shine when they could.
Seris continued to push herself relentlessly, and our sparring sessions became legendary among the younglings. We'd go for hours, neither of us willing to give an inch, until one of the Masters finally called a halt.
Derren improved steadily, his natural calm under pressure making him a formidable opponent despite his occasional lapses in technique. Which I started to notice more as a lack of motivation.
And Barriss... Barriss was a grounding presence, always there to remind us to stay centered, to focus on the present rather than obsessing over the future. But I couldn't help obsessing. Not entirely.
Because I knew what was coming. And every day that passed was one day closer to the moment when Qui-Gon Jinn would arrive on Tatooine and discover a nine-year-old slave boy with the highest midichlorian count ever recorded.
I'd started to moderate my displays of power, to hold back just enough that I wouldn't overshadow Anakin when he arrived. I'd moved two Muntuur stones, massive training stones used to test telekinetic strength, for three minutes, when I wanted try five. I'd let myself lose sparring matches I could have won, let others answer questions I knew the answers to.
It was a delicate balance, and I wasn't sure I was getting it right.
But I had to try.
One afternoon, nearly a year after the Initiate trials, I found myself in the Upper Sparring Hall with Seris.
We'd been working on a new combination, transitioning from Makashi to Soresu, the defensive form we'd just started learning. It was challenging, requiring a complete shift in mindset and technique, but we were making progress.
Barriss and Derren sat on the sidelines, watching and offering commentary.
"She's always trying to be number one," Barriss said, her tone affectionate rather than critical.
Derren chuckled. "Yeah, but Cain keeps her balanced. They're good for each other."
I caught the words as I parried one of Seris's strikes, and I couldn't help but smile. They were right. Seris pushed me to be better, and I... I hoped I did the same for her and the others.
We were mid-exchange, our blades moving in a blur of motion, when the door to the hall opened.
The presence that entered was like a wave, commanding and intense. I felt it through the Force before I even saw him, a Master, powerful and disciplined, his connection to the Force like a finely honed blade.
I glanced toward the door and froze. It was Master Cin Drallig. The Battle Master of the Jedi Order.
He was tall, with dark hair and sharp features, his presence radiating authority. Beside him walked a young woman, his Padawan, I realized. Serra Keto. She was maybe fourteen or fifteen, with auburn hair and a confident stride.
Seris and I stopped mid-duel, deactivating our sabers and bowing immediately.
"You two move very well for ones so young," Master Cin said, his voice deep and measured.
"Thank you, Master," Seris and I said in unison.
Serra stepped forward, her eyes bright with interest. "I've seen your duels before. You're both excellent duelists. You have a lot of potential."
Master Cin studied us for a moment, then turned to Serra. "Let's see how you do against these rising Initiates. If it's okay with you both?"
Serra and I nodded, and I handed Seris back her training saber. "All yours," I said.
Seris stepped into the ring with Serra, and they ignited their sabers. Serra immediately shifted into a Jar'kai stance, both blades humming.
"Begin," Master Cin said.
Serra moved first, launching a flurry of strikes that forced Seris onto the defensive. Seris parried and dodged with her usual grace, but I could see the strain in her movements. Serra was faster, more experienced, and her dual-wielding technique was flawless compared to Seris's.
"Seris can't shift from defense to offense," Derren murmured beside me.
He was right. Every time Seris tried to counter, Serra was already moving, her second blade cutting off the opening before Seris could exploit it.
Finally, Serra feinted high, then swept low, catching Seris off-balance. In a single smooth motion, she disarmed Seris and tapped her chest with one of her sabers.
"Yield," Serra said, smiling.
Seris deactivated her saber and bowed, her expression frustrated but controlled. As she left the ring, I draped a towel over her head.
"You were amazing," I said quietly.
She looked up at me, and I thought I saw a faint smile. "Thank you."
Then it was my turn. I stepped into the ring, and Serra and I faced each other. We circled slowly, our sabers touching once, twice, testing each other's reflexes.
On the third touch, we exploded into motion. Serra's dual blades came at me in a whirlwind of strikes, and I deflected each one with minimal movements, conserving energy. She was fast, but I could read her patterns, anticipate her attacks.
I pressed forward with a burst of powerful strikes, using Makashi's precision to target her wrists and shoulders. She deflected each one, but I could see her adjusting, adapting to my style.
Then she did something I didn't expect: she slid underneath my blade, her body moving with liquid grace, and went for a strike at my legs.
I flipped backward, barely avoiding the attack, and landed in a crouch. But she was already there, spinning into a feint that made me raise my guard, and then she swept my legs out from under me.
I hit the mat hard, the impact knocking the wind out of me.
Serra stood over me, one saber pointed at my chest. "Do you submit?"
I deactivated my saber. "I do."
She smiled and offered me her hand. "That was a good duel. I don't know many Initiates who can fight like you do."
"Thank you, Padawan Keto," I said, accepting her hand. "I learned a lot from this."
"Anytime, Cain. I hope we can do this more in the future when you're more experienced."
I turned to Master Cin Drallig, and before I could second-guess myself, I said, "Will you please spar with me, Master Drallig?"
The room went silent.
Serra's eyes widened. Seris, Barriss, and Derren all stared at me like I'd lost my mind. Master Cin raised an eyebrow. "You're a bold one, youngling Cain. Why do you want to fight me? Do you plan on becoming the Order's next Battle Master?"
"No, Master," I said, meeting his gaze. "I want to test my skills and see how I can improve. I can only get better by being defeated and learning from that."
It was the truth. I'd rather learn from failure now, while the stakes were low, than later when a mistake could cost lives.
Master Cin studied me for a long moment, then smiled. "Very well. Come, youngling Cain, and show me what you are capable of."
He walked calmly to the center of the ring, and I followed, my heart pounding.
We ignited our sabers, and I took a deep breath, reaching for the Force.
Then I moved.
I launched a burst of speed, my blade connecting with his in a shower of sparks. But he didn't move. Didn't even flinch. I sent a flurry of strikes at him, testing his reflexes, but he parried each one with minimal effort, his wrist barely moving.
I switched to Makashi, focusing on precision and economy of motion. But it didn't matter. Every strike I sent was deflected, redirected, turned aside like it was nothing.
I recognized his form: Soresu. The ultimate defensive style.
Desperate, I tried something new. I'd been studying Form IV, Ataru, in secret, practicing the acrobatic, aggressive style in the early mornings when no one else was around. It was rough, unpolished, but maybe it would be enough to break through his defense.
I flowed from Makashi to Ataru. I used the Force and pulled in Seris's training saber to my hand and ignited it. launching myself into the air and coming down with a powerful overhead strike. Using Jar'Kai and Ataru in tandem.
He blocked it effortlessly. But I notice a small smile formed on his face. Like he was impressed.
I spun, struck low, then high, then mid-level, my movements a blur. But he was always there, his blade meeting both of mine with perfect timing.
"Whenever you're ready to truly begin, youngling, please let me know," he said, and there was a hint of amusement in his voice.
I gritted my teeth and reached deeper into the Force, augmenting my strength, speed, and reflexes. The world sharpened, and I moved faster than I'd ever moved before.
My training sabers became a blur of motion, Makashi's precise thrusts flowing into Ataru's acrobatic strikes, using Jar'Kai to increase my number of strikes and double my defenses. Which were punctuated by the defensive parries I'd learned from Form III. I struck high, low, spun mid-air, adjusted my footwork with each exchange.
Every technique I'd studied, every drill I'd practiced in secret, I threw at him with everything I had.
And still, Cin Drallig barely moved.
He flowed like water around my strikes, his blade meeting mine with such minimal motion that it seemed effortless. There was no wasted movement, no excess energy usage. Just perfect, absolute economy.
I tried to read the rhythm of his technique, to find the pattern in his defense. But there was nothing to grasp. It was like trying to catch smoke with my bare hands.
My breathing grew ragged. Sweat stung my eyes. My small arms burned with the effort of maintaining the Force augmentation, of pushing this child's body beyond its natural limits.
Just one opening. Just one.
I saw it, or thought I did. A gap in his defense it formed like a crack in reality. It was like I saw his movement before he even made it. A moment where his blade was too far to the left. I decided to commit fully, driving forward with a mid-level thrust aimed at his center mass.
And that's when I realized my mistake.
Cin stepped inside my guard, moving with such fluid grace that I didn't even see it happen. One moment I was attacking, the next his saber was pressed gently against my chest, right over my heart.
" Do you yield," he said softly.
I deactivated my saber, chest heaving, and nodded. "I yield."
The watching younglings erupted in whispers. Seris's expression was unreadable, but her eyes were sharp, analyzing. Derren looked impressed. Barriss wore a small, knowing smile.
Serra Keto stepped forward, offering me a hand up. "That was incredible," she said. "I've never seen an Initiate move like that."
I took her hand, my legs shaky. "I lost."
"You learned," she corrected. "That's what matters."
Master Cin Drallig approached, his presence commanding but not unkind. He knelt beside me, bringing himself to eye level. "You move well, youngling Cain. You adapt quickly, and your instincts are sharp. If you continue training with this dedication, you will become an excellent duelist."
I bowed my head, still catching my breath.
"Thank you, Master."
He studied me for a long moment, his dark eyes searching. Then he asked, "Why do you pick up a lightsaber, youngling?"
The question caught me off guard. I could have given him the expected answer, to serve the Order, to defend the Republic, to uphold justice. But something in his gaze demanded honesty.
I met his eyes, my golden irises burning with conviction. "I want to protect others."
Cin Drallig paused, and for a moment, something shifted in his expression. Understanding, perhaps. Or recognition.
"Then start by mastering yourself first," he said quietly. "The greatest weapon you will ever wield is not your lightsaber, but your own discipline, your own clarity of purpose. You will understand more once you start there."
I bowed deeply, feeling the weight of his words settle into my chest. "Yes, Master. Thank you for this lesson, and for your wisdom."
He rose, nodding once, then turned to address the other younglings. But I stayed kneeling for a moment longer, letting his words sink in.
Master yourself first. It was so simple. And yet, I knew it would be the hardest thing I'd ever do.
That evening, I sat alone in one of the smaller meditation chambers, replaying the duel over and over in my mind.
Every strike. Every parry. Every moment where I'd thought I had an opening, only to find nothing but air.
I wasn't upset, not really. Losing to a Jedi Battle Master was expected. But there was something else, something I couldn't quite name. A feeling that I'd been close to something. Close to understanding something deeper about the Force, about combat, about myself.
I'd felt it in those final moments, when I'd pushed my body to its limits and reached for the Force with everything I had. The world had sharpened, time had seemed to slow, and for just an instant, I'd felt... connected. To the saber in my hand, to the ground beneath my feet, to the very air around me.
And then it had slipped away.
I closed my eyes, breathing slowly, trying to recapture that feeling. But it was like trying to hold water in my hands, the harder I grasped, the faster it slipped through my fingers.
What was it? I didn't know. But I knew I'd felt it. And I knew I'd feel it again. I just had to keep training. Keep pushing. Keep growing.
Master yourself first.
I opened my eyes and stood, determination settling into my bones.
Later that night, I found myself in one of the smaller training chambers with Seris, Barriss, and Derren.
We'd claimed it as our own over the past few months, a quiet space where we could practice without the eyes of Masters or the whispers of other Initiates. The walls were lined with practice weapons and training droids, and the floor was marked with faded circles from countless sparring matches.
"Alright," I said, moving to the center of the room. "Let's break down what we learned today."
Seris stepped forward, her silver eyes sharp. "Serra's feint. The way she swept your legs after making you think she was going for a high strike."
I nodded. "Exactly. She sold the feint perfectly. I committed to the block, and by the time I realized it was a fake, I already lost."
Derren grabbed a training saber and moved into position. "Show me."
I walked him through it slowly, the initial strike, the subtle shift in weight, the sudden change in direction. Seris watched intently, her mind clearly working through the mechanics.
"It's about reading your opponent," Barriss said from the side, her soft voice cutting through our focus. "She knew you'd block high because that's what you'd been doing all match. She created the pattern, then broke it."
I turned to her, impressed. "Exactly. Combat isn't just physical, it's psychological."
We spent the next hour recreating Cin Drallig's footwork, analyzing the way he'd moved with such minimal effort. Seris had a natural eye for it, breaking down each step, each shift in weight.
"He never overextended," she said, demonstrating the stance. "Every movement was contained, controlled. No wasted energy."
"That's Soresu," I said. "The ultimate defensive form. It's all about efficiency."
Derren tried to mimic the stance, but his movements were too broad, too aggressive. "I don't get it. How do you attack if you're always defending?"
"You don't," Seris said. "You wait for your opponent to make a mistake. Then you capitalize on it."
I nodded. "That's what Cin did to me. I overcommitted, and he stepped inside my guard. One strike, and it was over."
We practiced for another hour, working through different scenarios, different techniques. Barriss offered insights about staying calm, about listening to the Force rather than forcing it to obey.
"You can feel it," she said, her dark blue eyes distant. "The moment when someone overextends. It's like a ripple in the Force. You just have to be still enough to notice it."
Derren tried again, this time moving slower, more deliberately. And to everyone's surprise, he got it right.
"There!" Barriss said, smiling. "You felt it, didn't you?"
Derren blinked, then grinned. "I... yeah. I did."
Seris crossed her arms, studying him. "How did you do that? You're usually so..."
"Reckless?" Derren offered, still grinning.
"I was going to say enthusiastic," Seris said dryly.
"It's because he's naturally calm under pressure," I said, watching Derren with new appreciation. "He doesn't overthink. He just... is."
Derren shrugged. "I don't know what you're talking about. I just do what feels right."
Seris's ears twitched, her tell for frustration. "That's not helpful. How are we supposed to learn from that?"
Derren's grin widened. "Maybe if you asked nicely. You know, something like, 'Oh, great Derren, please help me. I'm just a poor, struggling Initiate who needs your wisdom."
Seris's expression didn't change, but I saw the shift in her posture. The slight tensing of her shoulders.
"Derren," I said, trying to warn him. "Maybe...."
But it was too late.
Seris moved like lightning, stepping behind Derren and wrapping her arms around his waist. "What are you...." he started to say, and then she lifted him.
Derren's eyes went wide as Seris executed a perfect suplex, arching her back and driving him into the training mat with a resounding thud.
For a moment, there was only silence.
Then Derren groaned. "Ow."
I couldn't help it, I started laughing. I gave Seris a thumbs up. "Beautiful form. Ten out of ten."
Seris straightened, brushing off her robes with a satisfied expression. "Thank you."
Barriss knelt beside Derren, checking him over. "You're fine. Just bruised pride."
"And bruised everything else," Derren muttered, but he was smiling. "Okay, okay. I deserved that."
Seris offered him a hand, pulling him to his feet. "Next time, think before you speak."
"Where's the fun in that?" Derren said, rubbing his back.
I watched them, Seris with her rare, genuine smile; Derren bruised but laughing; Barriss shaking her head with fond exasperation, and felt something warm settle in my chest. These moments. These small, perfect moments.
This was what I should be enjoying more.
Not the weight of destiny, not the burden of knowledge, not the fear of what was coming.
Just... this.
My friends. Laughing. Training and growing together.
I smiled, and for the first time in a long time, it felt completely genuine.
"Alright," I said, clapping my hands together. "One more round. And Derren, maybe don't provoke Seris this time."
"No promises," Derren said, grinning.Seris cracked her knuckles.
And we began again.