Tower of Time: Long Ago and Far Away

The Road to Rediscovery
Part 6 - Better Idle than Ill Doing

Gray daylight filtered in through ajar window shutters, casting flickering stripes across the floor, sparse furniture, and chamber's single occupant. The shades were fixed in their oblique angle, as the Jedi supposed that such low lighting would be conducive to peaceful meditation. From the speeders speeding along outside the Jedi Temple's walls to the other side of the planet, Coruscant hummed with life and activity—with the Force.

Ev uncrossed her legs and shifted on her seat. Sighing, she tried to focus herself inward or outward, on anything but her thoughts. Inside herself she found only restlessness and dissatisfaction. The echoes of darkness, guilt, and anger within her gave her no peace. Focusing outward did not bring her the calm she sought either. Try as she might to shut it out, the trillions of lives on Coruscant buzzed at her consciousness. The closer a person was, the louder their life-force screamed into her subconsciousness. To cut out that distraction, one might as well cut oneself off from the Force entirely.

There were young Jedi that envied her and the other truly powerful Jedi. At times like these, she envied them.

Ev sighed, shifting again. What I need is focus. Or absolute nothingness. I seek oblivion from all of this.

Perhaps when the Jedi destroyed her mind, they also destroyed her focus. From all she could gather about the Revanchist—her own past—her mind had been uncommonly sharp, unclouded by distractions.

And perhaps they destroyed her focus to keep her from seeking deeper within her own mind. The Jedi council claimed to have erased her memories, and yet she could not believe that. They merely buried them. Visions of the Star Maps she had once visited proved that. They had wanted her to remember that, but no more. To remember more would be to make their tool in the war against Malak too dangerous. And now that Malak was dead and the Sith remnants all but destroyed, they had no used for their puppet any more.

A week after returning from the war front, Ev was already growing edgy. In all that time, the Jedi Council had called on her not even once. When she caught sight of Vandar Tokare's small form in the corridor, she intercepted.

“What is it, Ev Pell?” he asked with only mild impatience.

“Vandar,” Ev started, “When will I need to report for my next duty with the fleet?”

“Ah,” Vandar was caught slightly off-guard. “Your part in this war is finished. You did your duty in breaking the Sith and you are no longer needed at the front.”

“Then the Council has other plans for me?” Ev asked, attempting to read through the Jedi Master's words.

“Not for the moment, no,” he replied tersely. “In the mean time, I suggest that you spend time in meditation and centering yourself. I still sense much anger in you.”

And that was something the Jedi Council did little to help with, other than pointing it out as a constant in her life which she must fix. Little help meditation did either.

Ev had spent six months chasing down and eradicating Sith along side the Republic Military. In all that time, she had returned to Coruscant only twice, to be sent out by the Council the very next day again. She hardly rested, jumping from planet to planet, lent from fleet to fleet. After Ruuria, the Republic Military command decided that they could not do without Juhani, Jolee, Bastila, and herself. Despite their lack of leisure time, the four of them had grown closer together throughout their travels, bound more strongly together in the Force.

Then suddenly they were split up. Jolee was sent with one fleet and Juhani with another. Bastila was lent to the military command’s campaign planning committee for her insight into the Sith's organization and motives. Ev, on the other hand, was left to idleness in the Jedi Temple with no hope of direction or assignment from the Council.

It was only in battle that Ev had truly been able to lose herself and clear her mind. Amid the carnage she wrought, she found peace. Only in those moments was she able to forget what had been done to her—and what she herself had done. Looking back, the thought of that made her uncomfortable, but so it was. Despite herself, she itched to return to the war. She longed for that calm again.

Maybe that was what scared the Jedi Masters.

When meditation and sparring failed her and, wandering bored her, Ev would browse through the archives or make herself useful in the training of master-less apprentices. In the archives, Ev found herself drawn to the history of the Sith and of the wars that had defined her lifetime. She grasped at every scrap of her own history that the Jedi dared to keep on file.

“May I ask what you are doing?” the historian Atris asked in such a tone as to suggest that she already knew the answer and did not approve.

“I am reading the logged accounts of Jedi involved in the Mandalorian wars,” Ev replied flippantly, as if she did not catch the meaning in Atris's voice.

“That is not something you should be reading,” Atris snapped and reached for Ev's holodisk reader. She Pulled at it with the Force, but Ev countered her evenly and the pad remained in her hand.

“I was not aware that this was restricted material,” Ev said icily, “It was in the common resource library.”

“It is not,” Atris retorted impatiently, “But you should not be reading it. All that you will find in there will cause you harm. You will not find what you are looking for.”

“Because that is actually restricted?” Ev asked.

Atris ignored her question huffily, “I have been monitoring your reading list, Roan'evrue Pell. And I do not approve. I suggest you take your interests and casual readings elsewhere.”

“Thank you for the feedback and advice, Master Atris,” Ev replied coolly, pressing the holodisk reader firmly to the table should Atris decided to give it a Yank again. “But, I have need of neither.”

“You don't know what's good for you!” Atris muttered and stormed off in a huff, white skirt flapping agitatedly about her heels.

Despite Atris's warnings, Ev continued her research, but it revealed little. Ev was beginning to become acquainted with her own reputation and character, but there were no records of her seemingly famed speeches, only vague references. It was almost as if, after her fall, the Jedi had determined to rid the Order of the Revanchist's influence, even in written word. If she did not find anything useful soon, Ev vowed to begin combing the other archives and libraries of Coruscant. Someone must have found records of her past worth preserving. She was Revan, after all. There were few names in the galaxy as widely known as hers or names which carried so much weight and meaning.

Finally, after three weeks of wandering about the Jedi Temple, the Council called Ev before them. However, it was not for the reasons she had hoped.

“Ev, we are concerned,” Nomi Sunrider began.

“Thank you for your concern, Master Sunrider,” Ev replied with a bow, “This confinement and inactivity has had me unsettled.”

“That is not what has us concerned, Ev,” Vrook cut directly to the point, “Your behavior does. Why do you continue to wield a red lightsaber?”

“It is a reminder of Korriban, of where I have come from, and of others who have fallen,” Ev replied evenly. She unhooked the saber from her right hip and transferred it to her right hand.

“Red is the color of the Sith,” Master Kavar put in, “We needn't remind you of that. It has no place among the Jedi.”

“And it reminds others of who you were,” Vrook added testily, “Darth Revan.”

“That reminder often gave me the upper hand in our war against the Sith,” Ev replied.

“To use your identity as Revan in such a way walks a fine line,” Nomi pointed out, “It flirts with the Dark Side.”

“You have had plenty of idle time since returning from the war,” Atris said, “What I do not understand is why you have not changed the crystal since then.”

“As I said, it's a reminder,” Ev repeated.

“Then let the hilt remind you alone,” Tyjesh Kay, the Bimm Jedi Master, suggested firmly, “No one else needs reminding.”

She did not change the crystal as they had asked. Ev was not one to be sentimental about objects, but she could not bring herself to change anything about the lightsaber that she had picked up in the Tomb of Naga Sadow. When she held it in her hand, she knew, deep down, that it had some connection to her past. She suspected her buried memories required a trigger to surface. She could not throw away the red lightsaber on the chance that it could be part of one of those triggers.

“Using that saber and claiming to be Revan,” Zez-Kai Ell warned, “It is dangerous. There are countless examples through history of Jedi who have pretended to be Sith, only to fall.”

“Ulic Kel-droma,” Atris provided, “For example.”

“But for you, I fear it is even more dangerous,” Zez-Kai continued, “Because you truly once were the Sith Lord you pretend to be.”

Ev never once claimed to be Darth Revan. She never claimed to want to lead the Sith again. She wanted neither. Like it or not, Revan was one of her names, and it was a powerful name. At its mention, soldiers hesitated, Sith faltered, and confidence failed. It was a power Ev had on her lips and, in war, she would not discard any powers she had over the enemy. Perhaps that was un-Jedi-like, but it was calculated and practical. Ev knew the fine line she walked better than any Jedi Master could ever hope to.

But, there were some things that one should not bother trying to explain to the most highly exulted Jedi in the Order. For one, that you understood something better than they did.

“We are also wary of your involvement with the youth from Korriban and Selkath,” Kronn Hakkes added. “In order for them to see the light and walk constantly in it, they must be free of all damaging influences.”

“And I am one of these damaging influences?” Ev asked, indignation rising inside of her. She took a deep breath to quell it.

“They look up to you, Ev, more than you know,” Embrik Waykennit pointed out gently.

“For all your struggles with the Dark Side,” Kavar explained, “You are not the best role-model for them.”

“I have heard it said that for someone who is recovering from a fall, seeing another who has fallen and returned strongly is inspiring,” Ev replied evenly, “A guidepost.” She thought of Juhani.

“Maybe so,” Zez-Kai murmured thoughtfully.

“I cannot feel certain that you have returned strongly from your fall, Roan'evrue,” Atris observed harshly.

Ev cringed with Atris's continuing insistence at using that ridiculous name that was not really hers.

Had Ev really recovered, or was she still living the life of a Sith in Jedi robes? The question haunted her. The more she mulled on it, the less certain she became. From her heart, she believed in love, compassion, and freeing the oppressed of their oppressors. At the same time, she believed in crushing the Sith until there was nothing left of them. Her actions set her apart from the other Jedi, but was she still one of them? Was it the Code that made the Jedi or was it the Jedi that made the Code?

“There is much anger in you,” Ruell D'tarn observed, “Though you keep it buried deep.”

“So I am told,” Ev replied dryly, “Frequently.”

“Besides anger, you let your other emotions run about the surface of your consciousness,” Vrook added, “A Jedi should not let his passions and feelings of the moment take control of him.”

“You pardon, Master Vrook,” Ev began as politely as she could, “But I believe I know the difference between feeling emotions and letting them rule me. A living being cannot be completely dead to emotion.” Ev let it out. She could not stand to be treated like a child any more.

“You must be very careful, Ev,” Master Dorak warned, “Such thoughts and justifications can lead to the Dark Side. You must make an effort to bring your emotions more under control.”

“You should meditate and center yourself on the Jedi Code,” Embrik suggested.

“And I have also sensed something in you which disturbs me greatly,” Atris added, “Are you in a romantic relationship with someone?”

“That is none of your business,” Ev retorted briskly, her dark eyes hardening. They would not take Carth away from her, or take her away from Carth.

“That is precisely what—” Atris began.

“Atris,” Nomi interrupted, “Let her have her peace.”

Ev took several calming breaths, then met the eyes of each Jedi Master within her field of vision. “What would you have me do, then, Masters?” she asked.

“Master Waykennit is right in his suggestion,” Nomi replied, “You should focus yourself on meditation. Let the Force guide you into the Jedi you should be.”

And so here Ev sat, in one of the many meditation chambers, trying to discover just who she was and who she should be. Should she even be a Jedi? Was this the place for her? The purpose for her remaking was finished. She was no longer needed in the fight against the Sith. What now? There must me some other purpose for her being.

Dimly, she became aware of another presence in the meditation room. She let her eyelids lift and saw an elderly Jedi occupying one of the other two seats. Though he sat in a relaxed meditation posture, his eyes were open and fixed on her.

“Master Cafran,” Ev began, a sly smile spreading across her face, “I should thank you. Here I was worrying that I was unable to focus myself well enough to shut out distractions, but here you have joined me without my notice. You have proved me wrong, and that makes me feel better.”

“I had hoped so,” he replied, smiling back. In the past three weeks at the Jedi Temple, Visto Cafran had been one of the very few Jedi that had not shied away from casual greetings and conversation with Ev.

“What brings you here?” Ev asked.

“You are disturbed,” Visto replied. His voice was jovial but his expression serious. “I couldn't help but notice it when I was walking by.” He waved at the door behind him.

Ev snorted, “That's one way of putting it.” She then realized, “Great. Soon the entire Temple will sense it too. That will do wonders for my reputation here.”

“I doubt it,” Visto shook his head, “There are plenty of disturbed younglings and padawans cloistered up in these meditation chambers. It is nearly impossible to know one from the next behind closed doors. Few know you well enough to distinguish your presence from the rest.”

“And you do?” Ev asked. Visto may have earned a place in her acquaintance by his friendliness and his past friendship with Jolee, but she was wary of his intrusion on her privacy.

“If only barely, it seems,” Visto nodded. They stared at each other in silence for a few moments longer before Visto sighed and began again, “I may be just another cooky old Jedi, but I am a Jedi Master. I have trained more than a few padawans myself and helped guide them through their rough spots. Granted, none of them had to deal with the earth-shaking reality that they were once a Sith Lord and can't remember any of it,” he chuckled then sobered, ”I sense you could use some help, Ev, and I want to offer it.”

Ev remained pensively silent, taking in his proposition.

“The other Jedi all respect you, but many also fear you,” Visto assessed, “The Council Members do not trust you.”

“Don't I know it,” Ev admitted frustratedly.

“I think I may have seen that more clearly than any others,” Visto admitted, “And it disturbs me.”

“Why?” Ev asked, “They have every reason to. I was once a Sith, and they really have no idea what's going on inside of me. They don't know if Revan could surface again. Force, I don't even know that! They can sense plain as day that I'm not following the code and keeping my emotions in check. As far as they know, I could be a time bomb waiting to go off.” Ev paused to draw in a deep breath, then added, “And I can count on one hand how many other Jedi come close to being as strong in the Force a I am, but I lack the advantage of their years of control and discipline.”

“And in that, they do you a disservice by neglecting to guide you,” Visto said, shaking his head regretfully.

“You don't fear me,” Ev observed suddenly, “Nor do you distrust me.”

“I see no point in it,” Visto replied openly, “You speak with honesty and compassion. Perhaps you harbor more emotions that most see proper in a Jedi, but I cannot condemn that. Your emotions are a natural reaction to the situation you are in.”

“Then you see nothing wrong with the anger the council members are so frequently nagging me about?” Ev asked pointedly.

“Anger, hm? Now anger can be very dangerous if nothing is done about it, especially given your past,” Visto began slowly, “But both you and the council are treating your anger in the wrong way, however.”

“How so?” Ev asked, raising an eyebrow skeptically.

“It is pointless to look at yourself and say 'Self, stop being angry. Be a better person,'” Visto pointed out. “You need to find the root of your anger and deal with it there, at the source.”

“What makes you think I haven't tried that?” Ev asked.

“Because you are still angry,” Visto replied, with a knowing twinkle in his eyes.

Ev sat back in her chair. She admitted, “Fair point.”

“Why are you angry?” he asked, then quickly amended, “You don't have to tell me, but it may help to speak the reasons out loud.”

“No, it's alright,” Ev sighed, “I am angry because of how the council has been slighting me, treating me like a child. They monitor my every move and are quick to dole out disapproval at everything I do. This idleness since the war is driving me crazy, and they don't want me doing anything besides meditation.”

“Hm,” Visto nodded, but urged, “I sense that your anger is deeper than that. Those are surface issues of the moment.”

Ev drew in a deep breath and sighed. “I am angry at them for what they did to me,” she admitted, searching herself, “I am angry that they destroyed what I was and reformed me as a tool to meet their needs, and that they planned to keep that whole thing a secret from me. I have to believe that I, as Revan, had reasons for what I was doing, good ones. Even if my past lies with the Dark Side, I had reason. Without trying to figure out those reasons, they did their very best to erase my memories. And now, they want to keep pretending none of this ever happened. They don't want me to find out more about my past. They expect me to live with blissful contentment that they did what was right for me and for the galaxy.”

“Now we're getting somewhere,” Visto nodded. “Go deeper. I don't think the Jedi Council is the only target of your anger.”

Ev grasped desperately at thoughts that threatened to fade away. “I am angry at all of those who perpetrated, assisted, or allowed atrocities like Taris and Cathar to take place: the Mandalorians, Malak, the Sith, Czerka, the whole system,” Ev said, frustration mounting, “Damn it all! That's not it yet either, is it?” She struck a balled fist against her leg.

“Now you're starting to sound more like Revan,” Visto admitted, “A confused Revan, but Revan all the same. That furious compassion is a part of your past.”

“You knew me before?” Ev asked, suddenly taken aback and yet eager for more.

“How old do I look to you?” Visto asked pointedly, “Of course I knew of you and ran across you a handful of times.”

“What was—?” Ev began.

“I didn't come here to satisfy your curiosities,” Visto cut her off sharply, “Not now anyway. You must face your anger, and I still don't think you have hit the heart of it.”

“Who else is there to be angry at? The whole kriffing galaxy?” Ev asked frustratedly.

“You say you are angry at those who caused and allowed suffering,” Visto pointed out, “But have you forgotten, it was Revan—you that began this war which has claimed lives by the trillions and devastated trillions more? Have you pushed that out of your mind?”

Ev leaned back, speechless, as if struck by a powerful blow to the head. “I think you may be right, Master Cafran,” Ev breathed as she recovered, “I—I am angry at myself for all that I have done.”

“Self-anger can be the most poisonous kind,” Visto said, “It permeates everything you do, everything you think. It can tear you apart and shake your very foundations if left unchecked.”

“You sound as if you are speaking from experience,” Ev observed.

Visto did not respond directly, “Now that you can examine your anger for what it is, you must dispel it.”

“How am I supposed to do that?” Ev asked, “I do feel better for having said all this aloud, but it doesn't feel any easier to just wish it away.”

“Have you considered forgiveness?” Visto asked, cocking his head to one side.

“Forgiveness?” Ev repeated incredulously, “How can I forgive them for all they've—how can I forgive myself?”

“That is for you to discover,” Visto replied, “But you must, or you will never find the peace that you are seeking.”

Ev sighed and looked down at her lap. “Forgiveness,” she echoed listlessly.

“It will take time and humility,” Visto encouraged, “But if you work at it, you will be able to do it. I'm sure of it.”

Half a smile crossed Ev's lips for a moment and she met his eyes again. “Thank you, Master Cafran,” she said, “For choosing this afternoon to barge in on my privacy.”

Visto laughed, “Any time, any time. What else does an old Jedi like myself have to do with his time besides meddling in other people's private affairs?” He started again, “You know, I think I have an idea for how you can better spend your time.”

“What?” Ev asked.

“How about taking a padawan learner?” Visto suggested.

“A padawan?” Ev repeated.

“You have a lot of skills and knowledge that should be passed on to the next generation of Jedi,” Visto pointed out, “And your unique perspective may prove inspiring.”

“But the council would never agree to let me take on a padawan,” Ev protested, “They have already called me a damaging influence on the apprentices that I have tried to help.”

“'Damaging influence?'” Visto said disgustedly, “I can't imagine that the whole council was of that opinion.”

“Atris, Master Hakkes, and many of the others seemed to think so,” Ev replied.

“Atris can go eat her socks,” Visto replied, almost automatically. “I think, perhaps, you overlooked those who were silent. You have a powerful ally in Master Waykennit, you know, an alliance which will soon lose its power as his year-long term on the council comes to a close.”

“Master Waykennit has been more sympathetic, I will give you that,” Ev agreed. “He did once admit to wanting to take me as a padawan when I was younger.”

“There is more to it than that,” Visto replied, “He has probably not said it himself, but it was he and his master that discovered you, a child of refugees on the outer rim. He carried you, infant in a sling, all the way to Dantooine himself, changing your diapers and bottle feeding you for the entire journey.”

“He remembers when I was nothing more than an innocent child,” Ev assessed thoughtfully.

“Embrik may be only a short-term member of the Jedi Council, but he is well-spoken and persuasive,” Visto continued, “I believe that he can sway the Council's vote regarding your taking of a padawan. Approaching him and ask for his support.”

Ev nodded.

“Do you have someone in mind already?” he asked.

Only a moment's thought, and a face flashed in the front of Ev's mind. “Actually, yes I do,” she replied, smiling.

“Well, now that that is underway as well,” Visto began again, “There is something else I would like to rectify, if you would allow me.”

“What is that?” Ev asked.

“The Council's continuing neglect of the completion of your re-training,” Visto replied. “As you said, your control and focus are lacking.”

“I would be honored if you'd take the time to help me out with that,” Ev bowed her head respectfully.

“In that case, may I lead you through some guided meditation?” Visto asked permission to begin.

“Please do,” Ev replied.


Students filed out of the lecture hall, all ex-Sith or Selkath. Ev lingered outside the doorway, giving each an encouraging smile as they passed. Those that saw her returned her smile and Dustil greeted her with, “Hey Ev.” The last to leave the classroom was their instructor, Master Embrik Waykennit.

“Master Embrik,” Ev caught his attention.

“Ah, Ev,” he replied with a smile, stopping in the doorway, “How are you this afternoon?”

“Fine,” she responded, “And you?”

“I am doing alright myself,” Embrik answered. With a light laugh he added, “All of those apprentices really are learning well. Their enthusiasm to really get it right is infectious. They are really pulling each other along.”

“I have been quite impressed with their progress myself,” Ev admitted.

Embrik began walking casually down the corridor towards his next destination and Ev fell into stride along side him. “I really do appreciate all the help you have been giving them in the sparring ring and out of it,” Embrik began, “As do they, no matter what other members of the Council say.”

“Thank you, Embrik,” Ev replied, “Sometimes I wonder.”

“It really is a pity that there are too few Jedi left after this war to give them each a master,” Embrik said wistfully, “And that Atris refuses to budge on repealing our single-padawan policy.”

“That is actually what I wanted to speak to you about,” Ev started. “I would like to take a padawan.”

“One of this group?” Embrik asked.

“Yes,” Ev nodded, “Dustil Onasi.”

“Dustil, huh?” Embrik nodded with approval, “He would really benefit from your individual tutelage.”

“I am concerned that the Council will deny my request,” Ev admitted, “Given what they said earlier this week.”

“No,” Embrik reassured her, “There may be some apposed to the idea, but I believe the majority would support your decision. This would be a constructive and positive use of your time. And, I believe Dustil is ready for this.”

“Thank you, Embrik,” Ev bowed her head respectfully as they walked.

“I believe we will have some time in our meeting tomorrow to discuss it, if you can come and bring the boy along with you,” Embrik suggested.

“I can do that,” she said, “I'll inform Dustil.”

Embrik stopped and turned to face Ev. “Ev, I am sorry about all this,” he apologized, “You're such a special case on so many levels. No one really knows what to do with you.”

“So I've noticed,” Ev replied dryly.

“If there's any other help I can offer you, please, don't be afraid to ask,” Embrik offered.

Ev almost denied that she needed anything, but then remembered Visto's suggestion from the previous afternoon. “I know you are quite busy with all of your duties,” Ev began carefully, “But I have been struggling with the disciplines of focus and clearing my mind. I would appreciate any guidance you could give me.”

“I would be happy to guide you, Ev,” Embrik replied, “You may be far beyond needing a master in many ways, but I am glad to see that you are not too proud to admit your weaknesses.”

“Thank you, Master Embrik,” Ev bowed again.


“Okay, I'm here,” Dustil practically dashed off the lift onto the landing outside of the High Council Chambers where Ev waited for him. He fidgeted, adjusting the collar of his formal robes. “But what is this all about? I hope you didn't rat me out about anything.”

“I would be the last to do that,” Ev replied with an enigmatic smile.

“So?” Dustil persisted.

Before Ev could give him another illusive reply, the doors to the Council Chamber swung open. “Let's go,” she urged.

Ev strode inside and bowed to the Jedi Masters. Dustil stiffly followed her lead. In all of his time training to be a Jedi, he had never been called before the council until today.

“Ev Pell,” Nomi Sunrider began, “Master Waykennit has told us of your intention to take Dustil Onasi as your padawan learner.”

“You—I what?” Dustil stammered, gaping at Ev.

“I see you did not inform him yourself,” Nomi cracked a smile. “We have come to the conclusion that this is a good decision for both of you. Dustil, you will be released from your classes to study solely under Ev now.”

“Thank you, Masters,” Ev said and bowed again.

“Thank you,” Dustil repeated hastily, bowing as well.

“You may go,” Nomi said, “May the Force be with your partnership.”

As Ev turned and left the chamber, Dustil at her heels, she could not help but feel the waves of sour disapproval rolling off of Atris. She smiled at her own small victory.

The doors closed behind them again and they were left alone in the hall. Dustil rounded on her, “You could have told me.”

“But then I wouldn't have had the satisfaction of that wonderful look of surprise on your face,” Ev teased.

“Ev!” Dustil retorted impatiently.

“Fine,” she chuckled, “In all honesty, I wasn't sure if they would let me take a padawan, much less one of you Korriban trainees.”

“I'm glad they did,” Dustil replied, suddenly awed, “This means that I actually will be able to become a Jedi Knight after all.”

“If I let you make it that far,” Ev teased.

“Thanks so much for doing this,” Dustil said eagerly.

“I didn't do this just for you,” Ev jovially pointed out, “I've been bored, and I think you will keep me plenty busy.”

Dustil laughed. “So where do we start?” he asked.

“I was thinking,” Ev proposed, “That you try to give me a beating down in the sparring ring. I want to see how much you've improved lately.”

“Then you'll teach me double-wielding?” Dustil asked.

“You're not getting a second saber until you learn to keep track of both of mine,” Ev replied with firm playfulness, “Do that, and then we'll talk.”

“You're on!” Dustil exclaimed.

- Next Part -

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