#harmonolith

There were padawans of various ages, as well as species, but the eldest stood a good few inches taller than most, and certainly was the eldest by at least a year, if not more.  That’s what happened when your species happened to be Firrerreo, though.  Short Firrerreos weren’t the norm. 

He was dressed in rather simple robes..or...simple compared to those trappings he had worn in the past.  Make that about a thousand or so years ago, give or take.  This Firrerreo was, by and large, the oldest of all these padawans, certainly, if not the tallest. 

Some of the younger padawans had drifted over to his corner of the room, abandoning their own exercises to watch this padawan, Harmonolith, progress through a few saber moves.  His Mistress had taught him much of what he knew, though being stuck in a Force Rift had made it impossible to practice. 

He still remembered her body, still, motionless, her almost surprised expression, and the flickering red blade of the Sith who had felled her. 

And there was nothing Harmonolith could’ve done.  He’d been stuck- stuck! - in a Rift of his own making, trapped for...years!  Only to be grabbed by a small padawan and pulled into this new Temple, with new Jedi.  His own life, like his old robes and Mistress, were long dead and gone. 

This fierce energy, this hidden rupture of feeling, coursed through the saber in his hands.  His robes swished to-and-fro as his feet danced along the tile.  Dead..dead...dead!

Dead and gone!

He didn’t know these padawans, the ones who watched him with silent wonder.  He didn’t know this Temple, though he’d wandered it for years, drifting through it like a ghost, unable to do more than watch the world move on around him. 

Every slash of his saber pulsed with a fresh outpouring of silent grief and frustration.  He could never go back..he can’t ever go back...!

His saber slices through one of the droids, ending its short-lived existence with a fizz and electronic shriek. 

“You aren’t allowed to kill them,” a padawan piped up in the silence that followed.  Harmonolith sheathed his saber, glancing toward the padawan.

“..I know,” he sighed heavily, running a hand down his face.  Wonderful.  Something else to tell his superiors about.  Not that they didn’t talk to him enough anyway, prodding him for the odd detail about his past life, or about these past centuries!  They’d all blended together, memories lumping into memories, everything springing up new and then growing old and withering and dying and starting all over in an endless cycle. 

One day all of these padawans would die. 

His one friend here, his one, true friend, Raelyn, would also die.  Raelyn, who had pulled him to freedom.  Raelyn, who was so bubbly and curious and wanted to grow up to be some mishmash of Jedi Knight and budding scientist...

Harmon dragged his feet out of the training room, saber swinging lightly against his belt.  

What would his Mistress want of him?  To turn these people aside?  To turn off his heart, allowing himself to become cold and unattached to the offers of belonging and friendship, here?  

He wasn’t sure. 

He really just..wanted to go home. 

“Would you forgive me, Mistress,” he mumbled softly, rubbing at his golden eyes as he walked, “if this was a home to me?  Would you forgive me for making a new home, here?”

The air rang with a deafening silence.  No consoling thought or word sounded in the quiet that blanketed the grand Temple hallway. 

Like all other things, his Mistress had faded to a terrible silence.  

And if everything only ever came to silence, then what was the point in even asking? 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Raelyn was a chubby little kid with chubby fists and chubby cheeks and big sparkly eyes that seemed to light up when he was happy and dim when he was sad, which wasn’t very often.  He babbled up a storm as he trailed after his Mistress, asking questions and pointing to things and jabbering to anyone who would listen.

He was a ray of sunshine, and Harmonolith loved him.

He didn’t know when he fell in love with the little boy, but he had.  Absolutely, totally, and without reserve.  Perhaps it was because Harmonolith had spent literal centuries trapped in a pocket of Force energy just outside the bounds of the real world.  Perhaps it was because for years he had to stand to the side, watching life go on for those whom he had loved, once.  He had watched them grow old and die.  He had watched their padawans and offspring do the same...over..and over..and over again.

It was a vicious cycle of pain and life and hurt and death.  One he couldn’t break, and one he now stood outside of, a miserable witness caught in the snares of eternity. 

But the boy had such life and goodness inside of him!  It shone through Harmon’s grief and coldness like the twin suns of Tatooine, if not more intense.  Harmonolith couldn’t touch the boy, couldn’t be heard when he tried to speak, but all the same, he followed after the little padawan.  He whiled away the hours watching Raelyn train, meditate, along with all the in-between activities expected of a young child.  He was smart, playful, and very open to making friends of complete strangers.  And sometimes...sometimes it almost seemed as if he knew Harmonolith was there beside him.

He would talk to his “ghost friend”, sometimes, and even though his Mistress and the other Jedi and padawans shrugged him off...Harmonolith couldn’t help but feel a slight thrill.  Perhaps Raelyn really felt him!  Perhaps there was some chance of him being brought back-

Little Raelyn slipped on a corner of his own robes, crashing onto the tile and snapping Harmon back to the present moment.

“Shhh...hey...woah-!” his mistress crooned as she smoothed Raelyn’s dark hair.  The little boy looked up at her with wide, watery eyes and she shushed him again.

“Hey, Rae-Rae..come here..it’s alright..”  She scooped him into her arms, rocking her boy while he sniffled and clutched at her robes with stubby fingers.

Harmonolith knelt on the floor beside them both, anxiously peering at Raelyn.  He seemed fine...

..Ah..but what he wouldn’t give to offer a soothing touch, a gentle smile-!

Raelyn’s dim eyes seemed to lock on his golden ones, just for a moment, and it almost seemed as if he could reach out and touch the boy. 

But then Raelyn’s Mistress had him in her arms, tossing him high in the air to make him giggle again, his eyes lighting up in delight.  Harmonolith watched from his position, a small smile tugging at his lips.