Awakening in the Temple
Darkness gave way to warmth.
Jasen opened his eyes slowly, light flooding in from above like twin suns. His breath hitched. He was lying on a soft bed, warm sheets tucked around him, the hum of technology in the walls faint but present. The ceiling wasn't cracked drywall or metal rafters—it was smooth, marble-like with elegant lines of bronze and light stone.
This isn't home, he thought. This isn't Earth.
He pushed himself upright, small hands pressing into the mattress—too small. Panic surged for a heartbeat as he looked down at himself: short limbs, tiny feet, chest rising quickly with shallow breaths. He stumbled toward a mirror across the room, legs unsteady.
The reflection was… surreal.
A child—maybe four years old—stared back. Dark brown skin, wild snow-white hair that curled slightly at the ends, and eyes. Golden. Not hazel, not brown. Pure gold.
His ears were subtly pointed. Not as much as a Elf or half elf, but there was no denying it. He wasn't human—not entirely.
Jasen had died.
But he was here—reborn. Reincarnated.
A distant, soothing voice pulled him from his thoughts.
"Ah, you're awake," said a woman standing in the doorway, dressed in white and gold. She looked kind, her lekku wrapped loosely behind her shoulders. A Togruta, maybe a healer.
Jasen instinctively backed away. She smiled and held her hands up gently.
"No need to worry. You're safe. You arrived only two days ago. The Council is pleased. The Force is strong with you."
The Force.
The words sent a shiver through him, not of fear—but of wonder. His heart pounded. His memories were intact: Jasen's memories. The movies, the books, the Legends canon, the Old Republic, the Clone Wars, Anakin, Luke, Revan…
I'm in the Jedi Temple, he realized. I'm in the Star Wars galaxy. This is real.
And by the look of the smooth polished floors, the arched doors with etched High Galactic script, the distant hum of Coruscant traffic—he was in the Jedi Temple, on the capital world itself.
The healer turned her head. "What's that, little one?"
He blinked. "Nothing… Master."
She smiled. "You may call me Healer Vela. Come, Cain. There's someone I want you to meet."
New Beginnings
Jasen was led through the wide temple halls—each corridor alive with Force energy, whispers, and presence. Younglings laughed and ran in groups, instructors guided meditations, and the occasional tall Jedi Knight passed by with their robes flowing like wind over sand dunes.
Healer Vela called me Cain, that was his name in this world had been assigned upon . A simple datapad near his bedside had shown it: "Cain, Male, Age 4, Species: Hybrid (Human / Arkanian / Sephi) – Force Sensitivity: High"
Cain committed every detail to memory. If he'd truly reincarnated, then this was his new life.
The healer led him to a grand circular training room. Inside, a dozen younglings between ages 4 and 6 were stretching, meditating, or giggling during wooden saber drills.
A calm, older Cerean Jedi Master greeted them with a kind bow. "This is Master Ki-Adi-Mundi," Vela said. "He teaches early Force Theory and Meditation to the Bear Clan."
Cain's eyes widened. Ki-Adi-Mundi? The Council member? so this is before the Clone Wars.
The Cerean studied Cain with interest. "He is centered. Very centered—for his age. Welcome, young one."
Cain bowed clumsily, hiding the tremble in his chest. "Thank you, Master."
As he joined the group, two younglings nearby looked up.
One was pale, silver-haired, and moved with perfect grace even when still. She gave him a quick once-over with sharp silver eyes.
"New?" she asked.
Cain nodded. "Cain."
She turned back to her form practice and muttered, "Seris."
The other youngling had messy brown hair and a bruise on his cheek. He grinned at Cain.
"Don't mind her," he said. "She kicked my butt yesterday, too. I'm Derren. Wanna team up?"
Cain hesitated… and then nodded. "Yeah. Let's do it."
Early Talent
Over the next few days, Cain adapted quickly.
In meditation classes, his mind drifted into deeper states faster than expected—even surprising Master Yaddle, who noted it to the Council. He could sense faint ripples in the Force—emotions, places, sometimes even hidden thoughts. But he said little. Better to stay curious, not dangerous.
During a simple Force test—a floating stone ring—Cain raised it on the first try. The instructors praised him. The other children stared.
Seris stared but said nothing. Derren smiled. "He's got the touch!"
Cain gave a quiet smile. "Just lucky, I guess."
But deep inside, he was analyzing everything: Jedi doctrine, the gaps in their teachings, the strange absence of certain names like Revan, Nomi Sunrider, or the First Schism. It was all here but details were missing.
Why hide your own history Cain thought?
The Promise
Late one night, Cain stood alone at the edge of a meditation balcony, staring into the stars of Coruscant's night sky. The Jedi Temple spires rose behind him, glowing blue-white against the dark horizon.
His fingers clenched the stone railing.
Anakin will come soon… the galaxy is on the edge of a knife… and the Jedi don't see it.
"I know what's coming," he thought to himself.
The Clone Wars. Sidious. Order 66. The purge. The Yuuzhan vong.
"But this time I'll change things hopefully for the better."
Behind him, soft footsteps approached. It was Seris.
"You're strange," she said, standing beside him.
Cain smiled faintly. "how so?."
"…You think too much. But you're gifted. and stronger than the others."
He looked at her, eyes glowing like twin suns. "So are you."
A long pause. Then she nodded. Just once.
They stood in silence, two small figures in a large galaxy about to change.
And deep within the Force, something stirred.
A storm…
…about to be rewritten.