Chapter 7: The apothecary girl

 

Chapter 7

The apothecary girl

Ryubin - 20 years to the battle

«Kahi’el!» The high-pitched voice of little Jess reached her just before the girl threw herself into her arms. «Where are you going?»

She ruffled her violet hair. «I’m going to look for medicinal plants. Don’t get into trouble, okay?»

The little girl pouted and followed her toward the forest. «But we were supposed to train! You know I can shape shadows now? I made a comb this morning!»

She looked at her and chuckled softly: that child was adorable. Three years younger than her and daughter of the village chiefs, yet to her, she was her beloved little sister. She was always moving, never stopping. She had extraordinary power—maybe even greater than hers—but she used it to perform magic tricks and entertain the other children. She had a good heart.

Both of her parents had been born powerless, but she, instead, had been born a legend. Literally. Her grandfather had told her that the girl was born on a starless, pitch-black night and that at her first cry, the shadows in the room had exploded, engulfing the entire village.

They called her the Princess of Shadows.

And yet, Jess wanted nothing to do with it.

The village elders insisted she train for combat, but the girl preferred to spend her time in the forest, healing wounded animals and running with them.

That’s exactly where she had met her the first time.

She had been gathering medicinal herbs at her grandfather’s request, while the child was chatting with two enormous birds of prey perched on a branch next to her—and a snake, coiled in her lap, its head resting peacefully on her shoulder like an embrace.

Her powers frightened nearly everyone in the village, so her only friends were animals.

And yet, that day, Kahi’el hadn’t seen a monster, a demon, or a threat—only an innocent child.

From that day on, Jess never left her side.

«Girls! Wait for me!»

And of course, there was also Edras, another child shunned for his power.

He was the son of the village’s military commander. His mother… had died giving birth to him. Actually, it was Edras who had killed her. Her grandfather had tried to keep it a secret, but it hadn’t helped. The village was small, and rumors spread fast. Edras had power over blood. When he was born, he had stopped his mother’s blood flow; her heart imploded trying to keep it going. Her grandfather always told her it wasn’t Edras’s fault. One couldn’t expect a newborn to control powers he didn’t even know he had.

Just like it had happened with Jess, at their first meeting, Kahi’el had seen an innocent child, hated by all for what he had done…

It had been easy for the trio to form. They were bound by something far stronger than blood. All three were outsiders. The daughter of the chief, for her connection to the darkness of night. The commander’s son, for having killed his own mother with his power. And finally, there was her—no parents, raised by her grandfather. She didn’t know where she came from. Not even her grandfather knew.

That was fine with her. She had her beloved grandfather and her two friends. They were enough.

Edras wrapped his arms around both their shoulders. «Where are you two heading off to?»

Kahi’el nodded toward the woods. «I need to gather medicinal herbs.»

«That’s not fair!» Jess whined. «You promised we’d train!» Then her eyes lit up as she turned to Edras. «Guess what… I can shape shadows now! I made a comb this morning!»

Edras smiled at her and pulled her closer. «That’s awesome!»

Edras had vibrant green hair—it looked like a summer field of fresh grass. His eyes were two bright, intelligent emeralds. He was kind and good-hearted, despite everything. His father despised him. Not a day went by without him blaming him for his wife’s death. That’s why he put him through harsher training than any other child in the village. Sure, it had turned Edras into a respectable warrior by the young age of ten… But at what cost?

Edras was one year older than her, but the only ones who dared get close to him were Kahi’el and Jess. The girl adored him—maybe because she, too, was constantly subjected to intense training she always tried to dodge.

The three reached a fork in the path, and Kahi’el stopped. «I have to go look for those plants. I’ll see you later.»

«But what about training…»

Edras took pity on her and hoisted the girl onto his shoulders, spinning around and making her laugh. «Come on, I’ll train with you. Kahi’el has to do something for her grandfather.»

Jess pouted but eventually nodded. «Fine. But only because it’s you, Edras.»

Kahi’el thanked her friend with a look, then said goodbye to the two and began climbing the mountain. 

The herbs her grandfather needed didn’t grow deep in the forest, but rather where the mineral concentration was highest. Edras probably could have kept up with her, but Jess was still too young and tired more quickly than they did.

After two hours of hiking, she reached the spot her grandfather had shown her.
She pulled out her notebook, full of notes and drawings of the plants she needed, and got to work. Luckily, the ground was stable this season. In winter, it was almost impossible to climb that high. Snow and ice made the cliff face impossible to scale. Her grandfather knew this and always sent her to gather all the herbs during the warmer months.

She noticed a peculiar root and crouched down to examine it: she had never seen it before. She took out her notebook and flipped through the pages, but found no match. Could it be a new species? Maybe her grandfather would know what to do with it—or at least what it was. She drew her dagger and carefully freed the roots from the rock wall. She wrapped them in cloth and placed everything into her satchel. 

Pleased, she stood up—and that’s when a massive shadow darkened the sun. Kahi’el looked up and watched the gigantic ship enter the planet’s atmosphere. 

Now that was new.

The planet was small and peaceful. No big cities—just small villages, with nothing attractive to outsiders.

The mysterious energy that had always swirled around her since she could remember came alive. Something was about to happen. She wasn’t sure it was bad news, but something was definitely coming. She was curious to know who these visitors were—but first, she had work to do. Besides, the village was safe thanks to Edras and Jess. Sure, they were just a ten-year-old boy and a six-year-old girl, but… Even she found their powers a little frightening.

She looked down at her hand and conjured a small flame. A strange power ran through her too—but she had no idea where it came from… She wasn’t in any of the village legends. She didn’t know what her ancestors had done with their powers. At least those two were lucky enough to be seen as sacred heroes—even if the entire village looked at them with something close to fear.

Kahi’el sighed, extinguished the flame, and turned her attention back to her work. She wanted to get home as quickly as possible. 

She was home in record time—three hours.

«You got here just in time.»

What the…?

About ten women were sitting—or lying down, depending on how severe their wounds were—in her grandfather’s small living room.

The village chief, Jess, Edras, and the commander were there too. Her grandfather approached her and asked if she had brought the herbs he’d sent her to find. Kahi’el handed him the satchel, nodding, still confused.

Jess, who saw her first, ran over to her. «What’s going on?» she whispered, eyeing some of the deeper wounds. «What were they attacked by?»

It was Edras who answered. In that moment, he looked like a real soldier, ready for battle. «They spoke of a group of monks… They called them Jedi.»

Her grandfather called her over, and she approached him. He was kneeling beside a woman with a nasty wound on her temple. He handed her the bowl where he was mixing leaves from various healing plants with boiling water. He told her to keep stirring until the mixture turned into a paste. It wasn’t her first time doing this, but she was worried about her grandfather—his face looked pale. 

She dared to ask a question only when she handed him the bowl. «Grandfather… what are Jedi? You know, don’t you?»

She didn’t notice the women’s eyes turning curiously toward the old man, who kept his focus on applying the salve to the wound. «No.»

She knew him well enough to recognize a lie.

Her grandfather was not a man of many words, but he loved sharing his knowledge, and when he explained something, he always made sure even the most difficult concepts were understandable to a child’s mind. He didn’t usually answer with monosyllables. And now, he looked clearly uncomfortable—if not melancholy. He knew exactly who the Jedi were… and wanted nothing to do with them.

She didn’t have time to question him further, as he ordered her to tend to the more superficial wounds. There was a reason the village had nicknamed her the Herbs Girl. It was the best thing they could’ve come up with—and at least since she’d started helping her grandfather with illnesses and injuries, they no longer looked at her as if she had five eyes and gills. Sometimes, she felt they treated her better than they did Jess and Edras—even though they were born in the village.

Her grandfather had spent hours teaching her to recognize healing herbs, poisonous ones, those that helped other plants grow, and those harmful to the environment. Now, if they couldn’t find her grandfather, they’d ask her how to cure the village’s minor ailments. The worst thing she’d seen was a dislocated shoulder on a young recruit—and she’d had to bandage Jess’s scrapes more than once, wild as she was—but these wounds were serious, and clearly from combat.

Her grandfather even put Jess and Edras to work. It took her a while to notice—so focused was she on her own task—that the three of them were drawing special attention. A whispered voice told her it was because of their powers, and that they shouldn’t worry about those looks. The women weren’t a threat. They were tired and drained from battle. Kahi’el had estimated the ship they’d arrived on could carry maybe fifty people… But there were barely ten of them now. Whatever had happened, it must’ve been hell.

They finished treating the last wounds after the sun had been down for at least two hours. Her grandfather and the village chief’s wife had prepared nourishing meals for the guests, and once their injuries had been treated, the women opened up to the commander and the chief.

Kahi’el tried her best not to be caught eavesdropping, but her grandfather, busy with the woman next to her, had rolled his eyes more than once… She probably hadn’t been as discreet as she thought.

But still…

The women were witches. They belonged to the Coven of the Black Circles. Their mission was to protect planets from potential magical threats—like the Nightsisters of Dathomir. That name caught her full attention for some reason. There was something vague—a sensation, or maybe a long-lost memory—that tied her to Dathomir, even though she was sure she’d never heard of the planet before. They had been doing their job, helping a peaceful community, when a group of Jedi attacked them without reason. They spoke of a mad elder and a brutal, lethal young Master. They were accompanied by children.

«They brought Padawan on an extermination mission?»

Kahi’el froze instantly. She turned her head slowly toward her grandfather. She wasn’t sure he realized he had spoken aloud—but… Padawan? What was he talking about? Why wasn’t he explaining things like he usually did? What kind of past did he have with the Jedi…? How could he even have a past with the Jedi?!

Her heart pounded in her chest. Her grandfather was also an outsider. Until that moment, Kahi’el had never really thought much about it or asked any questions. The village was small. There weren’t many reasons someone could be shunned: powers like Jess’s and Edras’s… or not being from Ryubin. Her grandfather wasn’t native to the planet. He had come from somewhere else—just like she had. They let him live there only because his knowledge of medicinal herbs was too valuable. Otherwise, they likely would have driven him out long ago. He had taught her everything he knew, precisely to ensure she wouldn’t be exiled too.

She wanted to know more about him, but just then, the village chief approached him. «Do you think they’ll leave them alone?» 

Her grandfather took a deep breath, then stopped, unable to ignore his village leader. «No. They’ll hunt them. The Jedi do not forgive.»

Kahi’el noticed the shadows in the room trembling uneasily and searched for little Jess. She was one step behind Edras, clinging to his arm, her eyes full of fear.

She stood up. «Grandfather, why don’t you talk about this outside?»

She nodded toward the two children—and even the witches looked uncomfortable. The chief agreed, and the two men stepped outside, followed by the commander.

Kahi’el walked over to the little girl and picked her up in her arms, trying to comfort her. They were taking a serious risk, but even their peaceful village had warriors. Somehow, they would defend themselves—and the witches. 

That night, she stayed awake, watching over the women with the most severe injuries. She had managed to convince her grandfather to let her do it. He still saw her as a child, but Kahi’el knew she carried great responsibility on her shoulders—and she wouldn’t run from it. Even if she did try to act like a normal child, people would just remind her of her unknown origins. Parents didn’t trust her enough to let their children play with her, and her only friends were Jess and Edras.

«You’re very powerful,» whispered the witch whose leg she was rebandaging. «This village has truly gifted children.»

She almost laughed. «Jess and Edras are the only ones who deserve a compliment like that.»

«You mean the Dark Witch and the Blood-Shaper?» another murmured, turning on her side to look at them.

«Your power is different, but still extraordinary.»

«Still, it's been millennia since a Dark Witch was born,» added a third voice, incredulous. «And Blood-Shapers are extremely rare too.»

«Silence,» ordered the first witch who had spoken to her—she must’ve been the highest in rank. «Your name is Kahi’el, correct?»

She simply nodded. This wasn’t exactly a pleasant conversation.

«Magic runs strong in you—but so does the Force. If you learn to balance the two, you could become one of the most powerful witches in the galaxy.» She placed a hand on her shoulder. «But be careful. Your power could drag you into a bottomless abyss of darkness. Stay anchored to the light, Kahi’el.»

She didn’t know what to say. What was she supposed to respond? Okay, thanks—but please don’t talk to me again? Well, that sounded like a decent option. Unable to bear the heavy atmosphere any longer, she lowered her head and slipped away into her room.

Her grandfather had his back to her. His breathing was slow and steady—good. She didn’t feel like talking to anyone, not even to make him spill his whole story. She dragged her feet to her cot and let herself fall onto it. She was exhausted. She had never worked so much in her entire life.
She pulled off her boots and lifted her swollen, heavy feet. By morning, she’d better apply some soothing ointment if she planned to head back into the mountains and look for more new plants.

The root she had brought back had made her grandfather’s eyes light up. He told her that, normally, it wouldn’t bloom until the cold season was near—but this year, the temperature must’ve triggered an early blossoming.

«You should go with them.»

Her grandfather’s voice broke the silence all of a sudden. So he wasn’t asleep. Kahi’el turned—and was surprised to find him facing her, his gaze melancholic, but certain of his words.

«What do you mean?»

«Ryubin is not the place for you,» he murmured after a moment, as if carefully choosing his words. «You should all leave. All three of you. When—not if—when the Jedi come, they’ll target you too. You’re not safe here. No one can protect you except yourselves.»

Kahi’el sat up. «Edras is strong, and Jess’s powers—»

«You’re just children, Kahi’el!» He raised his voice… He had never raised his voice before. It wasn’t in his nature. «Edras is ten years old! Jess is only six! And you—you're nine. They’ve been trained to fight since childhood. They’re machines of war.»

It hit her like a bolt from the clear sky. «You were one of them…»

At those words, her grandfather fell completely silent. His eyes lit once again with that same melancholic glow. He looked away, staring down at the blanket he was clutching tightly in his hands. It wasn’t just melancholy… It was terror, and trauma. Without another word, he turned his back to her and lay down again.

The conversation, clearly, was over for him.

Kahi’el did the same, curling up. It was warm for the early dry season—and yet she was trembling. Despite his words, she would never abandon him. Her grandfather was getting old. He needed someone young and strong to climb the mountains and gather plants, to tend the garden under the scorching sun, to spend days searching for roots to treat food poisoning. In short… her grandfather needed her.

She wasn’t afraid of the Jedi. If that witch was right, she too held immense power. She could protect herself—and her friends. She didn’t care who their enemies were. As long as they stayed united, they would survive.

She was sure of it. 

She was awakened by the sound of blades clashing. She jumped to her feet so fast that the room spun around her—and she collapsed to the ground. She took a few deep breaths and this time stood more slowly. Once she was sure the room wouldn’t whirl around her again, she ran outside.

In the living room, only two witches remained lying down—those with the most serious wounds. They were still breathing, but pale and drenched in sweat… She would deal with them later.

Outside, she found the recruits… training.

It was them.

Her knees gave out, and she fell to the ground.

We’re not under attack… The Jedi haven’t found us yet…

Not yet. That’s what had her grandfather so worried.

Something green came into view, but it took her a moment to focus on Edras’s face. He had seen her fall and looked concerned. To be fair, she didn’t feel great. What she’d learned the night before still weighed on her. Not only had the witches noticed the powers she and her friends held—but her grandfather… had been one of the Jedi. The very ones who had attacked and harmed a group of innocent witches.

Suddenly, a group of recruits was launched into the air, forming a perfect circle around Jess. She was training too. The girl’s face was focused, but she looked tired. Edras helped Kahi’el to her feet and they moved into the shade. Though the sun had only risen a few hours ago, its rays were already hot enough to make her sweat heavily. They sat on a bench and watched Jess take down her opponents one by one.

On the opposite side of the training ground stood the village chief, the captain, and the group of witches. The women were watching her friend closely, as if hypnotized.

They called her the Dark Witch.

A fitting name, given her ability to control shadows. She always joked that she was never truly alone. They spoke to her, shared secrets and knowledge from beyond. Kahi’el sometimes wondered if they were the souls of the dead. Her powers gave her chills—even though she had never seen her use them to fight… until now. The shadows beneath her feet moved before she even gave them orders, rising to shield her back when someone tried to strike from behind.

«Stop!» It was her grandfather’s voice, cutting through the crowd of recruits as he rushed forward and embraced the child. «Do you really believe a child’s powers will save you?»

«She’s the daughter of the village chief,» Edras’s father said. «It’s her duty to protect us.»

«She has no chance—just like none of you do!»

He didn’t wait for a response. He lifted Jess into his arms and carried her away.

Kahi’el and Edras immediately stood up when they saw the commander grab a spear and start marching toward her grandfather. They only managed a single step before the man collapsed, choking—his throat caught in invisible hands, eyes bulging as if he couldn’t breathe.

What the…?

Her grandfather turned slowly, his eyes lit with the same power she felt flowing through her veins. «Master Cane,» he said, voice calm and dangerous, «you really shouldn’t be teaching your recruits to strike from behind. Especially not me.»

Then his gaze met hers. His eyes returned to normal, and he walked toward them. He ordered them to follow, and soon they were back inside. 

He gently laid Jess down. Her violet eyes were glowing, and she was out of breath—completely drained. Kahi’el and Edras rushed to her side. Kahi’el placed a hand on her cheek but instantly pulled back—she was burning hot.

«Grandfather…»

«I know.»

He was already working with herbs. He stretched out a hand, palm open—and a container flew into it. Kahi’el was stunned. He had powers like that? Why has he never used them before?

The door opened again, and the witches swept inside. Sythra, the leader of the group, approached the child, but her hand stopped mid-air.

«Don’t touch her.» Her grandfather’s voice was laced with threat. «You don’t know what she’s capable of.»

«Just as we don’t know what you’re capable of… Jedi.» 

She said the word with disdain, then gently ran her hand over the child’s head and whispered something. Jess let out a relieved sigh, and her shoulders relaxed. Slowly, her eyes dimmed, and the shadows in the room calmed with her.

Her grandfather scoffed something under his breath and finished the medicine. He poured the mixture into a bowl and handed it to the child, ordering her to drink.

He didn’t spare Sythra a glance—his attention fully on Jess. «I’m not a Jedi anymore… Not for a long time.»

Sythra leaned against the table, helping the girl drink. «Did you stop believing in their noble moral values?»

He let out a dry laugh. «They have no moral values left. That’s why they cast me out. The Jedi Order isn’t what it used to be. It’s no better—or worse—than the Sith.»

«But you’re different.» She smiled at Kahi’el, who instinctively wanted to flee. «You took in this young witch and cared for these people as if they were your own. You say you’re no Jedi, and yet you represent the Order better than anyone else.»

Those words seemed to lift a great weight from her grandfather’s shoulders. Sythra was young—but maybe she just didn’t show her age. She seemed to know the Jedi Order very well—as if she’d had experience with them too.

The heavy atmosphere was suddenly shattered by Jess wrinkling her nose and whining about how awful Quor’s concoctions tasted. She was already feeling much better.

Her grandfather ruffled her hair, making her laugh, and reminded her that his concoctions, as she called them, were medicine—not meant to taste good, just work. Jess stuck out her tongue, making a face, then jumped down from the table and hugged him, thanking him for his help.

Kahi’el took her hand, muttered an apology, and dragged her two friends out of the house. They walked in silence to the forest, then exchanged glances—and took off in a freeing run.

Jess, despite being just a child, was fast and knew the forest better than her own pockets. Not to mention, the shadows beneath her feet guided her along the safest path. Edras had a solid, military stride. Kahi’el let the wind carry her, like a leaf torn from its branch and cradled toward the cold earth.

They reached their secret clearing and stopped.

Finally—she could ask the questions she needed! She grabbed Jess by the shoulders and demanded she tell her everything. The little girl whined that Edras already knew it all—but he just shrugged, not wanting to get between an angry Kahi’el and her target.

Eventually, the girl explained that the captain had burst into her house at dawn, demanding she join the recruits’ training. The village chief had tried to stop him, saying it wasn’t right—but the soldier wouldn’t hear it. So she’d found herself in the square, surrounded by recruits, forced to use her powers to defend against their attacks. She’d had to do it again… and again… and again…

When Quor saved her, she’d felt like she was on fire—and was sure she would have exploded if she had to use the shadows one more time. They didn’t like being used that way either. Jess was well aware of how deadly her… friends… were. That’s why she only trained with Kahi’el and Edras. They could defend themselves with their own powers—but the same couldn’t be said for the rest of the village. Certainly not the recruits.

Kahi’el sighed and hugged her. «Don’t worry. You’ll see—Grandfather will make them listen.»

That’s when Edras spoke. «You knew… I mean…»

She shook her head. «No. He never talks about his past.»

And now I understand why.

She took a deep breath, gently running her fingers through Jess’s hair. «He told me we should leave with the witches. That we’re not safe here.»

«Maybe he’s not entirely wrong,» Edras muttered—earning glares from both girls. «What? You heard what he said, right? We don’t stand a chance against those… what are they called again? Joda… Jide…?»

«Jedi,» Jess corrected him, wiping her tears. «Follow Quor’s advice. Go with the witches. But I… I have to stay. I’m the daughter of the village chief. One day, I’ll become the chief myself. I have to protect the village—and my people.»

«As if!» Edras exclaimed, placing a hand on her shoulder. «I’m not letting you have all the fun. If you stay, I’ll fight at your side—until death.»

The two friends turned to her, and Kahi’el slowly smiled and nodded. 

Then she extended her hand. «Together until death?»

Edras and Jess placed their hands over hers. «Together until death!» 

The next morning, Kahi’el woke up early. It was the witches’ last day on Ryubin, and some bandages needed changing, wounds needed treating. They had run out of certain herbs, and her grandfather had asked her to climb the mountain to gather more. He had once again suggested she leave with them, but Kahi’el was firmly rooted in her decision: she had to stay and protect the village. She would find a way to control her powers, to train effectively, and to protect her people. Because, as Sythra had said—this village was home, both to her and her grandfather. And it was worth protecting at all costs.

She didn’t even care that the villagers didn’t consider her one of them. Her grandfather had earned their affection through his knowledge—she would do the same.

She reached for the doorknob, but suddenly the air around her grew heavy. Her grandfather had finally told her about the Force—a mysterious energy, yet present in every living being. Those most attuned to it could not only sense its whisper, but also wield it—either in defense or offense.

There were two distinct, opposing factions that taught willing students how to use it. The Jedi Order was the ally of the Galaxy, a monastic order bound by strict moral codes. They used the light side of the Force and stood for peace across the galaxy.

On the other side was the Sith Order, whose aim was to dominate the galaxy and bend the Force to their will. They used the dark side of the Force—capable of terrible things. Incredible things… but still terrible.

Her grandfather was a Gray Jedi. People like him believed the light and dark sides were just two aspects of the same energy—not opposites. The Jedi Council had never looked kindly upon those like him, but in recent decades, the situation had worsened dramatically. They would have exiled—or even executed—him regardless, so he had left of his own accord, fleeing as far as possible from that rotting Order, paralyzed by fear of a prophecy. Even he didn’t know what the prophecy was. He hoped that new generations might bring light and hope—but until the old guard stepped down, willingly or through death, hope remained slim.

Kahi’el took a deep breath and tried to calm her pounding heart. They would be gone soon. The Jedi hadn’t found them yet. Everything would be fine—Or so she tried to convince herself.

She glanced over her shoulder. The witches were still sleeping peacefully. Only one remained awake, keeping watch over her sisters: Sythra. The witch, sensing Kahi’el’s gaze, looked up at her and offered a small smile. Kahi’el didn’t return it and hurried out instead.

As much as it pained her, if those witches had never arrived on their planet—in their village—none of this chaos would’ve happened. They wouldn’t be in this mess. Maybe their home world was too far… maybe their wounds too severe to make the return journey…

She shook her head. 

Whatever the reason, it wasn’t good enough.

They had put an innocent village in serious danger by choosing it as a place to heal. If they were that desperate, they should’ve picked an uninhabited planet. That would have been safer for everyone—especially in case of a second attack.

But no.

They had chosen Ryubin.

Her grandfather said they had probably been guided by the Force. There was always a reason behind the paths She opened in front of you. They weren’t always easy roads, nor free of obstacles—but the Force only chose the strongest warriors, the ones who could endure anything She placed before them.

The Force could also mind Her own business, as far as Kahi’el was concerned.

Her grandfather had explained that no one could choose to be born Force-sensitive. It was the Force that decided who was worthy of hearing Her voice, Her guidance. Closing oneself off from Her could lead to worse consequences than following the path She set.

Still…

Kahi’el couldn’t help but think that it would’ve been better for everyone if the Force had just kept to Herself. 

She carefully tucked the day’s harvest into her satchel. She wiped the sweat from her forehead with one arm. It was especially hot that day. She unhooked her canteen from her belt and brought it to her lips: the last drop of water. It was time to head back to the village.

It was at that exact moment, while her eyes were still turned toward the sky, that a ship blocked out the sun. It wasn’t as large as the witches’ vessel, and it bore the symbol of the Jedi Order on its side.

The canteen slipped from her hand.

A cold shiver ran down her spine. The Jedi had just found the witches—and with them, the village.

Unable to move, she watched the ship descend slowly toward the forest, just a few kilometers from the village.

Then it hit her—

Grandfather!

She sprinted down the mountain. She nearly fell to her death more than once, but terror clouded all reason. She let the mountain crumble beneath her feet, adjusting to its rhythm, managing to descend fast enough.

Still, halfway down, something exploded in the village. Now, trails of smoke slithered skyward, a sign that something was burning. The wind carried with it the sound of anguished screams.

This can’t be happening. This must be a nightmare. This can’t be real!

She reached the forest and dashed as fast as she could toward the village. The smell of smoke nearly choked her, but she covered her face with her hands and kept running.

Surely her grandfather hadn’t been reckless enough to confront the Jedi. She didn’t doubt his power—he had once told her he had been a great and powerful Jedi Knight—but… He wasn’t that man anymore. His powers were extraordinary, yes, but not enough to stop younger, better-trained soldiers.

She burst into the village at full speed—and a second later, she hit the ground hard. She looked behind her to see what she’d tripped on—then screamed.

Two recruits lay dead on the ground, their bodies torn in half by a blade. She forced back the bile in her throat and stood again, now terrified.

Her grandfather was no longer her priority.

There was someone else who had chosen to give her life to protect her people: Jess.

«Jess!» she screamed, tearing her throat. «Jess!»

Please… answer me.

The acrid stench of smoke mixed with scorched flesh turned her stomach. The village wasn’t big. Where could she have hidden?

Despite everything, she was a smart girl. She wouldn’t have rushed into a battle already lost.

All her focus locked on searching for the purple of her hair and eyes.

A purple bandana caught between the rubble of a house—no!

A scrap of violet cloth beneath an overturned spice cart—no!

She didn’t realize she was running straight toward the screams—and into the heart of the battle—until a pair of strong arms lifted her from the ground. Her first instinct was to fight—But then she recognized the scent of herbs and alcohol.

She turned her head, stunned. «Grandfather…»

«Not. A. Word,» he muttered, turning back the way he’d come. «Why did you come back? You were supposed to stay in the mountains.»

«Jess…» Kahi’el whispered, clinging to his robes. «I have to find Jess…»

«No, you don’t have to find anyone.» He grabbed her hand and pulled her through the narrowest paths of the village, always checking to see if they were being followed.

«The last time I saw her, she was heading into the forest with Edras. She’ll be safe.»

He was lying. She could hear it in his voice.

Kahi’el turned her head as the ground shook from another explosion. The fire was growing stronger, while the screams were fading.

Her grandfather pressed forward without stopping, never looking back. He was leading her to a part of the village she’d never set foot in before. It was near a landing pad mostly used by training recruits…

There would be no more recruits.

No more training.

And if she didn’t find her friends… She wouldn’t even have a family left.

Edras was in danger too. The witches had sensed the immense magical potential within him. It wouldn’t take the Jedi long to figure it out as well.

The alley opened up to the landing pad—but it wasn’t empty. A small ship was waiting there, along with a woman dressed in black and red.

She didn’t have time to ask her grandfather what was going on—Because he pushed her toward the woman. «Take her.»

The woman’s stare was unsettling. «You took her from our care without permission. And now you want to give her back—why?»

Kahi’el froze.

Her heart nearly stopped.

What did she mean, he took me?

She looked at him, hoping he’d deny it—But he was too busy watching his back.

Then she turned her eyes to the woman, who gave her a small, cryptic smile. She had a terrible feeling.

«Grandfather…?»

He finally looked at her. 

With a sigh, he knelt in front of her and placed his hands on her shoulders. «I’m sorry, little one. Dathomir wasn’t the right place for someone as fragile as you. They would’ve cast you out. Your health was too weak—you wouldn’t have survived.» He cupped her face in his hands, brushing away tears she hadn’t realized were falling. «But now you’re strong. You’re ready. You must return to your sisters. I knew the Jedi would come—that’s why I contacted Dathomir, contacted Mother Talzin, so she could take you to safety.»

Kahi’el shook her head and threw her arms around his neck. «No! I’m not leaving you here! Those Jedi will kill you!»

He held her tight, then pulled back and kissed her forehead. «Don’t worry—I have to take care of the village chief and his wife. The Jedi destroyed their minds… and our chief is pregnant. She’ll need help. I don’t intend to die. Now go…»

Mother Talzin placed her hands on Kahi’el’s shoulders and gently pulled her away from him. «Come, it’s time to go home.»

«I don’t want to go home!» Kahi’el roared, suddenly furious. «This is my home! I’m not leaving without—»

A sudden, crushing exhaustion fell over her. She dropped to her knees, fighting off the drowsiness—But she was so tired…

Darkness enveloped her, and Kahi’el fell into a dreamless sleep.