The pale light of Coruscant's early dawn seeped through the thin curtains of Kaelen's quarters, falling softly across the cold, minimal furnishings. But inside Kaelen, the quiet was anything but peaceful.
His breath came uneven, chest tight as he lay staring at the ceiling. Every creak of the ancient Jedi Temple around him felt like a reminder of the silence left by Qui-Gon's absence—a silence that pressed down on him like a suffocating shroud.
Why did they take him? The thought twisted in his mind, sharp and relentless.
Kaelen clenched his fists beneath the blanket. The memories of Qui-Gon's patient voice echoed in his mind—"You don't have to be afraid of your feelings, Kaelen. The Force flows through all emotions if you let it."
But now, without Qui-Gon, those words seemed distant, almost mocking.
They say the Council is protecting me. But from what? From the truth that I'm different? That I'm broken?
He sat up abruptly, pacing his small room with restless energy. The silence now felt like judgment, and he hated it.
A single thought echoed louder than the rest: I'm alone. And no one here understands me.
The cold stone of the courtyard bit through Kaelen's bare feet as he paced, his blade ignited in one hand. Its blade hummed softly, a steady reminder of the power he wielded but struggled to control.
His strikes were fierce, wild—an outlet for the storm inside him. Each swing was an explosion of raw emotion, but lacked the finesse and control he'd once possessed.
Heavy footsteps broke through the morning air. Kaelen didn't turn, but the familiar voice sent a chill down his spine.
"Your technique is wild," Mace Windu said, standing tall and still, his dark eyes studying the boy.
Kaelen whirled, the tip of his blade slicing the air dangerously close to Windu's face.
"Maybe because I'm tired of pretending," Kaelen snapped, eyes blazing with frustration.
Windu's expression remained calm, but his voice carried the weight of authority. "You fight with anger, not discipline. That path will consume you."
Kaelen's laugh was bitter. "Discipline? The Council's idea of discipline is just control and silence. You don't understand me, Windu. You don't see what Qui-Gon saw."
Windu's jaw tightened, and for a moment, a flicker of something like regret crossed his face. He said quietly, "I see a boy in pain, Kaelen. But pain alone is not strength."
Kaelen stepped closer, voice low and fierce. "Then why do you come here? To lecture me? To remind me I'm failing?"
Windu held his ground. "I come because Qui-Gon believed in you. Because, despite your rebellion, you have potential. But potential means nothing without control."
Kaelen's shoulders sagged momentarily, the fire in his eyes dimming. Then he turned sharply, voice a whisper of pain. "Maybe I don't want control. Maybe I want to feel something."
Windu watched him walk away, inwardly wrestling with conflicting thoughts.
He's defiant, yes. But there's a vulnerability here... The boy's pain is deep. Qui-Gon saw it, believed he could save him. Can I?
The Council Chamber was dimly lit, and the somber faces of the Jedi Masters gathered in an uneasy silence.
Master Even Piell broke the quiet. "Kaelen's instability is worsening. His anger flares without provocation. He lashes out during training, endangering himself and others."
Ki-Adi-Mundi added, "He questions the very foundations of the Jedi Code. His disrespect towards Master Windu is blatant."
Yoda, seated at the head of the chamber, nodded slowly. "Strong the darkness grows within him. Difficult path ahead."
Mace Windu spoke with measured gravity, "Qui-Gon's absence has left a void in the boy's guidance. I volunteer to oversee his training until Qui-Gon's return."
The room was silent, the weight of Windu's words hanging heavily.
Master Luminara Unduli exchanged a glance with Yoda. "A difficult task, Master Windu. Kaelen's resistance is fierce."
Yoda's gaze met Windu's, small but piercing. "Patience, you will need. Much patience. The boy's spirit is like a wildfire—strong and dangerous if unchecked."
Windu bowed his head. "I accept the responsibility."
Later, Yoda and Windu found themselves alone in a quiet corridor.
Yoda's tone was gentle but firm. "Kaelen's pain runs deep, Mace. His anger is not mere rebellion—it is fear, loss, confusion."
Windu's voice was rough with frustration. "He disrespects me openly. It is not just anger—it is defiance, a challenge to the very Order."
Yoda's eyes twinkled with ancient wisdom. "A troubled soul cries out. The boy needs guidance, not punishment."
Windu rubbed the bridge of his nose. "I'm trained for battle, not for comforting a wounded child. Qui-Gon's methods were... unconventional. I feared he coddled him."
Yoda smiled faintly. "Qui-Gon sought balance. Now, balance is your task. Guide him with firmness, but also with compassion. Hard it will be, but necessary."
Windu exhaled deeply. "Very well. I will try."
The training chamber echoed with the clang of lightsabers, the swift movements of student and master locked in a struggle far beyond simple combat.
Windu's voice was sharp. "Your mind wanders. You let your emotions dictate your strikes."
Kaelen's reply was a growl, "My emotions are my strength."
Windu blocked a swing and countered. "Your emotions are your weakness if left untamed. The light side demands clarity and peace."
Kaelen's frustration boiled over. "Peace is a lie. It's an illusion for those who don't have to carry pain."
Windu's eyes darkened. "You speak like one who has never learned to master the Force."
Kaelen spun, lightsaber slicing through the air, but Windu caught it effortlessly.
"Focus," Windu said. "Calm your mind, or you will lose everything."
Kaelen gritted his teeth, sweat beading on his brow. Each correction was like a wound, but beneath the surface, something deeper stirred—a small spark of understanding, buried beneath layers of pain and defiance.
The meditation chamber was a sanctuary of silence, lit only by soft, ambient light. Kaelen sat cross-legged, eyes closed, hands resting gently on his knees.
He reached inward, seeking the Force, searching for calm.
Instead, a torrent of memories crashed through his mind: the day Qui-Gon left, the coldness of the Council, the burning loneliness. The echo of lost promises and silent betrayals.
The image of Qui-Gon's warm smile appeared, brief, fragile, and then shattered like glass.
Pain flooded him. His breath caught in his throat.
"No," he whispered fiercely, shaking his head. "I won't be broken."
Tears threatened to spill, but he blinked them away, fists clenched tightly.
He grappled with the pain, wrestling to accept it but unable to yield.
"I will find balance... on my terms," he murmured, voice trembling but resolute.
Exhausted after training, Kaelen sat alone in the hall, muscles trembling.
Windu approached quietly, his tone softer than before. "You have potential. But potential without discipline is a dangerous thing."
Kaelen looked away, his defences momentarily lowered. "I'm trying."
Windu nodded once. "Then keep trying. The path is difficult, but you are not alone."
For a moment, a fragile bridge formed between master and apprentice, built on understanding and unspoken pain.
Alone in his quarters, Mace Windu sat in meditation, the weight of the young apprentice's pain heavy on his mind.
The boy's fire could burn the Order or illuminate its future.
He breathed deeply, steeling himself.
Qui-Gon believed in him. So must I—even if the boy does not yet see it.
Kaelen lay on the floor of his quarters, exhaustion pulling at his limbs.
The fire inside him still blazed, fierce and untamed—but now, beneath it, a flicker of hope.
Tomorrow would be harder.
Tomorrow would test him again.
But for the first time, he dared to think:
Maybe, just maybe, I can learn to trust again.