Timeframe: Early 32 BBY
Cain's Age: 7, approaching 8
Setting: Jedi Temple – Various Halls, Meditation Gardens, Council Observation Chambers
Growth in Harmony
Morning light spilled into the Temple meditation garden, where five young Initiates sat in a loose circle, each deep in personal stillness.
Seris, once sharp and cold, now inhaled with grace—still intense, but softer, more aware of those around her. She hadn't abandoned her ambition—she'd tempered it. Cain's influence, and Barriss's calm presence, had begun showing her that power without purpose was hollow.
She still sparred hard, still pushed herself—but now, after every match, she'd bow with intention. She had learned the power of pause.
Anakin, across from Cain, was laughing quietly—just enough to break the silence when Cain opened one eye and smirked.
"You're ruining the peace again," Cain whispered.
"I'm living in it," Anakin grinned.
Their friendship had become something unique—closer than blood. They trained like rivals, encouraged like brothers. Where Cain saw structure, Anakin reminded him to feel. And where Anakin felt lost in grief or anger, Cain would reach out and quietly say, "I'm here."
To Anakin, Cain wasn't just a friend. He was home. The only one in the galaxy who understood the fire inside him.
Cain felt the same.
Barriss, sitting between them, smiled as they bantered. She had become the soul of the group—not the most powerful, but the most present. She saw what others missed. She knew when to say nothing, and when to say exactly the right thing. She gave them heart.
And Derren—once hotheaded and impulsive—had become their unexpected tactician. He watched like a strategist now, thinking three moves ahead in sparring and speaking with clarity during lessons. He reminded everyone to focus, to not just be Jedi—but to train like it mattered.
Cain, the First Light
Cain's guidance now extended beyond his circle.
During lightsaber drills, he'd pause to help struggling Initiates.
During meditation, he'd offer subtle breathing tricks to those who couldn't quiet their thoughts.
When an Initiate froze during a simulated rescue trial, Cain took their hand and whispered, "Fear isn't failure."
By now, his reputation was no longer limited to whispers.
Across the Temple halls, Cain had become known as the First Light—the boy of white hair and golden eyes, not because he was flashy or dominant, but because he made everyone feel brighter just by standing near them.
His balance between wisdom and humility, vision and kindness, was inspiring.
Even the older Padawans were watching now.
Masters in the Shadows
Above the Great Training Ring, several Jedi Masters observed the Initiates' sparring sessions—each pair rotating in a seamless display of discipline, precision, and unity.
Cain and Anakin sparred in sync. Seris joined mid-round. Barriss and Derren flanked and adjusted. It wasn't just a fight—it was a flow.
Master Fay stood quietly, arms folded, golden eyes glowing faintly.
Master Yaddle, seated beside her, hummed thoughtfully. "A bond they have. Strong, it is."
Plo Koon watched from the shadows, visor reflecting the movement. "They move as one. But it is their philosophy that separates them from the others."
Shaak Ti, curious but wary, added: "They do not disobey… but they reinterpret. They question our truths."
Fay nodded. "They are not rebels. They are reminders. Of what the Jedi were before we began fearing our emotions more than the dark side itself."
Master Dookan Yill, entering silently, glanced down at the sparring group. His expression was unreadable.
"They will be ready for the Initiate Trials within the year," he said.
"And when they pass," Plo Koon asked, "do we allow them to change the Order… or will we try to change them?"
No one answered.
The Spark Spreads
By week's end, Cain's teachings—his subtle redirections of Jedi history, his empathy-based meditations, his quotes from Nomi Sunrider and Cay Qel-Droma—began appearing in other Initiate circles.
Meditation groups were growing quieter… but deeper.
Sparring partners were bowing more often.
Some older Initiates began seeking out Cain and his group during practice, asking questions they once feared to ask aloud.
"Is it wrong to care about the friends I train with?"
"Why don't we help more slaves?"
"What if the Code doesn't explain everything I feel?"
And Cain always answered the same way:
"It's not wrong to feel. It's wrong to pretend you don't."
One Year Left
In private, Fay spoke quietly with Cain beneath the Moonlit Meditation Tree.
"You know what comes next," she said.
Cain nodded. "The Initiate Trials."
"The Gathering," Fay added. "A final threshold before you become Padawans."
Cain stared at the stars. "Are they ready?"
Fay smiled. "You've helped them become more than ready. But you, Cain… you're not just preparing for trials. You're preparing to lead."
He said nothing, but his golden eyes shimmered in the moonlight.