( CONTENT WARNING FOR BLOOD, DEATH. )
The world expands before you, doesn’t it? Sprint through the streets, whoop and holler, sing your childhood for everyone to hear. Nothing can stop the glee in your step. You cannot stop loving this world.
And yet, the light in this world must always meet darkness.
And the sun sets too soon for you, doesn’t it?
( the light is blinding when you are found beneath the floorboards, tear stains on your cheeks long dry. they pull you out into the sun, these saviors, huddle around you as to shield you. but you have already seen the blood dripping through the wood. you understand your family is gone, and by the glimpses of bodies you pass, so is the rest of your village.
their screams still echo with your every footstep. )
The monks do not push you; they simply guide you throughout the temple, feed you, care for you. But you remain silent, following their lead but never offering anything more. And there are nights where they blow out the candle at your bedside that you stare at the ceiling until the suns rays peak through the window.
And yet, even when you don’t close your eyes, the charred bodes press against your skull.
The monks whisper, worry, and after some time, before you fade altogether, they lead you to the heart of the temple and finally push you to the center. And there, someone in similar garb, but somehow doesn’t seem to belong holds out their hand to you.
“I won’t be able to ease that which haunts you,” they whisper, “but I can teach you how to accept it — and maybe ensure you never suffer like that again.”
And you think i don’t trust you.
And you wonder how can you fix me?
And you decide i want to live again.
You swallow, swallow, swallow, and your throat hurts as you whisper, “Okay….okay.”
It begins with discovering how to breathe. Through the hours of the day and in the moments staring at the ceiling, breathe in, breathe out, over and over until you close your eyes by choice, and your memories no longer suffocate, no longer threaten everything you are.
Then your new guide shakes you awake the next morning, asks what now fills you. And you want to say fury, you wish to say vengeance. But your hands don’t close to fists, and your body folds into yourself.
They smile. “Then you will be reborn.”
You train until you fall, wheezing for air that does not come easily, and there, your mentor, Ishale, stands above you. “Again,” they say. “Again.”
So push yourself from the ground, stand tall, strong, ignore that the other acolytes are receiving different training, do not acknowledge that you are now under the wings of someone who is a guardian and is not in the same breath. Breathe in, breathe out.
Train until you kneel, then train until you stumble, then train until you do not fall at all. The screams of the past are fading, and you can only continue moving forward. The Force surrounds you, as the other monks like to repeat, and you try your hardest to feel it in your bones and let it guide you in ways that this new life cannot.
And then one day, Ishale rushes into your room, throwing a lightbow to you. “Do not suffer,” is all they say, and you understand. You shouldn’t, but you do.
( you try so hard, and yet, when it is over, the screams still echo )
You leave because you are fading once more, and Ishale recognizes this, decides it is time for you to move forward another way. The two of you promise to return one day, for the temple will surely call to one of you again.
And the two of you find a different set of work, providing guidance in some forms, but more importantly to others, protection. It is enough; it should be enough.
( you stare at the sky, and you have to remind yourself to breathe. over and over, until the sky turns pink from the rising sun, you have to remember this is not the end. the force is in the air, surrounding you, embracing you. this you must believe; this you must treasure. it is enough. it is enough. it is enough. )
“If you want to go,” Ishale starts one night, and you whip your head to them. They stare at you, as if they see everything, and really, they always have, haven’t they? “If you wish to be on your own, then you should go. Do not stay out of obligation.”
You remain for another four years. When you leave, it is with whispered goodbyes and tears barely held back.
Ask yourself, when you decide to offer yourself as an ally for those running, if this is what was meant when Ishale said you were to be reborn. Is this what you were destined for, when your parents shoved you into hiding? That you should offer yourself to be sacrificed as they once were? If you are still so tied to your past, does that truly mean you are a new person facing the world? Or is this what the Force shaped your destiny to be?
( when you see the light, though, you cherish it. and while darkness may follow soon, you hold it close. and maybe that’s all you will need ).