the jedi council knew something was amiss with cain.

from the moment he had stood on the steps to the jedi temple without any word of how he’d gotten there, the force had felt as though it was teetering on a razor thin edge. one that cain held the power to tip it.

you had heard them whisper about him. that while they felt a great connection to the force in him, they also felt a darkness. one different from the dark side, lurking within him. nobody seemed to know what it was. just as nobody knew how his home planet had gotten destroyed, or how he had travelled all the way to the jedi temple at thirteen.

still, they had given him a lightsaber and training in hopes that they could teach him to be good.

the training had not made him feel any closer to either side.

for one, the other padawans were terrified of him. in training they feared facing him. some said he moved like a man possessed, impossible to predict. others said the force felt different when he used it. wrong, somehow. cain was not blind to the way they avoided him.

on the other hand, he had met you. you had never seemed to balk at his silence, nor had you ever shied away from him during training. you had simply been… you. even when he had told you the amount of blood on his hands from where he grew up, you had stayed by his side.

he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t fond of you. he didn’t show it outwardly, no, he moved in the shadows. you would wake up to find a tin of polish for the hilt of your saber by your bunk, or the training room would remain suspiciously empty until you left when you needed the space.

it should have terrified him, how willing he was to do anything to protect you. he could care less about the “chosen one” title the council had given to him. if he needed to, he would gladly give in to the darkness that had been consuming his soul over the years.

it was all he thought about, as he stood beside you on a balcony, overlooking the city. it was not too often that the two of you were back at the temple at the same time. usually your mentor dragged you away on far missions. perhaps they did it on purpose.

“you would have liked the stars on my home planet,” he finally spoke up, watching you as you took in coruscant. the lights of the city looked like stars.

his voice was low and rough, carrying that hint of a rasp he always had, the kind someone got after screaming for too long.

the breeze slightly ruffled his short ravenet hair as it weaved through the balcony.