Kai stood frozen for a moment, the mist swirling between him and the small figure. He had met many beings across the stars—some wise, some treacherous—but something about this creature's presence immediately felt...right. The Force around him was calm yet powerful, like a deep river hidden beneath still waters.
"You're... not what I expected," Kai said slowly, voice low with caution but laced with an odd certainty.
The old being chuckled, a rasping, amused sound. "Much, you do not know. Yet sense, you can. Hm?"
Kai nodded without even thinking, lowering his stance further into something respectful without even realizing it. "You're the one who called me here?"
The small figure turned and shuffled toward the hut without answering, waving a three-fingered hand for Kai to follow. "Come, come. Much to speak of, we have. Much to learn, you must."
Hesitant at first, Kai took a step forward—and then another, the tension bleeding from his muscles. Trust was not something he gave lightly. Life had taught him that. Yet in this moment, he trusted.
Inside, the hut was dim but warm, filled with the earthy smell of moss and roots. The creature moved with surprising ease, setting about preparing a small stew over a crackling flame.
Kai sat cross-legged near the fire, watching.
"You know who I am?" Kai asked, voice steady.
"Hmm," the figure mused, stirring the pot. "Names, little they mean. Actions, choices—those reveal truth."
Kai absorbed the words, letting them settle.
"I'm... trying to find my path," he admitted. "I've been training, learning about the Force on my own. But it feels like I'm only scratching the surface."
The being tilted his head thoughtfully. "Training, yes. Alone, hard it is. Dangerous, too. Paths... twist in shadows when walked without light."
Kai frowned slightly, feeling the weight of those words. He had seen the edges of darkness. He had touched it. And he knew how easy it could be to slip.
"Who are you?" Kai asked again, softer this time.
The small creature finally turned to him fully, a smile playing across his wrinkled features. "Yoda, I am. Jedi Master, once."
The name sent a ripple through the Force around them, a resonance Kai couldn't deny. He had heard whispers of the Jedi—a near-extinct order, spoken of in half-remembered tales and scattered across hidden texts.
"A Jedi Master," Kai echoed, a slight awe in his voice.
Yoda nodded slowly. "Seek answers, you do. Find strength, you must. But beware..." His eyes narrowed, and the flicker of sadness passed across his features. "Beware the easy path, the quick victories. Heavy is the burden of power."
Kai stared into the fire, the words sinking deep.
"I don't want to fall," he whispered.
Yoda's voice softened, almost fatherly. "Fall, you may fear. But fall, not certain you are. Choice, always yours it is."
The crackle of the fire filled the quiet space between them.
Kai closed his eyes briefly, feeling the truth of Yoda's words resonate within him. The journey ahead would be harder than he imagined—but maybe, just maybe, he was no longer walking it alone.
Yoda ladled some of the steaming stew into a rough clay bowl and set it in front of Kai, who took it with a quiet nod of thanks, though he barely noticed the food. His mind was spinning, full of questions he didn't know how to ask.
As if reading his thoughts, Yoda settled himself onto a small, worn cushion and leaned on his gnarled cane. The fire crackled between them, casting flickering shadows across the hut's walls.
"Vision, I had," Yoda said, breaking the silence, his voice low and steady. "Before you came. In the Force, a glimpse—two students, to find me, destined they were."
Kai raised an eyebrow. "Two students?" he echoed, cautiously sipping the stew.
Yoda nodded. "Long waited, I have. But strange, the Force is. Weeks before you arrived, two children passed through here. Lost, they were. Curious. Bright of spirit."
Kai leaned forward, sensing that there was more to the story.
"But not right, they felt," Yoda continued, tapping his chest lightly. "No threads connecting to the vision. No pull. No weight."
Kai frowned slightly. "So... why tell me this?"
Yoda peered at him with those piercing green eyes that seemed to see through every layer of him. "Because when you came, different it was. The Force stirred. Spoke, even. The pull, strong. Right."
Kai looked into the fire, letting the words settle deep into him. He had always felt adrift, even among others, even among the rebels. As if his place had always been somewhere he hadn't yet reached. Now, sitting here in the damp warmth of a forgotten swamp, being told by a Jedi Master that he belonged—it felt like a missing piece of himself sliding into place.
"Why me?" Kai asked, voice barely above a whisper.
Yoda smiled softly, an expression filled with both sadness and hope. "Not yet know all reasons, I do. But see it, I can. Heavy your past is. Wounds, deep. Yet, heart strong. Spirit unbroken. Path forward, you seek—not for power, but for meaning."
Kai swallowed hard, emotion knotting in his throat. "I... I don't even know if I'm ready."
"No one is," Yoda said simply. "Ready, we become. Through trials. Through choices."
For a long moment, they sat there in the silence of the swamp, only the fire murmuring between them.
At last, Kai looked up, a new steadiness in his gaze. "Then teach me. Help me be ready."
Yoda's ears twitched slightly, and a deep, knowing hum escaped him.
"Begin, we shall," he said.
And somewhere deep in the mist, the Force whispered in approval.
The next morning, under the veiled light filtering through Dagobah's mist, Yoda led Kai to a clearing not far from the hut—a patch of spongy earth surrounded by thick vines and towering trees.
"Begin we must," Yoda said, settling himself atop a gnarled root. "First, tell me—what know you already?"
Kai stood in the center of the clearing, feeling strangely exposed beneath Yoda's gaze. He unclipped his lightsaber from his belt but didn't ignite it yet, weighing the words carefully before speaking.
"I've trained myself," he admitted. "At least... as best I could." His voice was even, but there was a hint of self-reproach. "I learned the basics. Pushing, pulling... enhancing my movements with the Force. I've studied defensive forms, like Soresu, trying to master patience and endurance."
Yoda listened silently, his head cocked slightly.
Kai hesitated, glancing down at the hilt of his saber. "But... it never felt completely right. I can endure, yes, but when things turn fierce... when lives are on the line..." His fists clenched slightly. "There's something in me. A fire. Controlled, but burning."
He looked back at Yoda, meeting those ancient eyes. "Soresu teaches to outlast, to endure until an opening comes. But sometimes... sometimes it feels like I'm meant to seize the opening. To act."
Yoda's ears drooped slightly in contemplation, and he gave a small, knowing hum.
"Hmm... fire in you, yes. Tamed, it must be. Reckless, you are not—conserved, as you said. A deep current, not a raging river."
Kai nodded, feeling seen in a way few had ever managed.
Yoda slowly rose to his feet, leaning on his cane. "Remind me, you do, of others. Masters... friends long gone."
Kai blinked, curiosity sparking. "Who?"
"Fierce, they were," Yoda said, a wistful edge in his tone. "Yet wise enough to know when to strike, and when to stand still. Great Jedi, they became—because they listened. To themselves. To the Force."
The mist swirled between them, heavy with memory.
"Adapt we must," Yoda said finally. "Not force yourself into molds that do not fit. Defense... yes, important. Always. But to deny what the Force makes you? Dangerous, that is."
Kai felt a weight lift from his shoulders he hadn't realized he was carrying.
"Come," Yoda gestured with a small hand. "Show me. How you move. How you feel."
Kai ignited his lightsaber with a snap-hiss, the blade casting a steady glow against the mist. He centered himself, breathing deep, and flowed into the familiar forms—first Soresu, cautious, measured.
But as he transitioned, the movements grew sharper, heavier. He adjusted naturally into more aggressive, responsive techniques, improvising beyond the rigid patterns of Soresu. His strikes weren't wild, but deliberate, aiming to end a fight swiftly rather than prolong it.
Yoda watched with narrowed eyes, tapping his cane lightly against the ground in rhythm.
When Kai finally stopped, breathing steady but intense, Yoda nodded approvingly.
"Hmm. A guardian, you are not," he said thoughtfully. "A seeker. A fighter... but not for pride. For purpose."
Kai deactivated the saber and stood quietly, listening.
"Train you, I will," Yoda said at last. "But your path... your path, together we must discover."
A small smile touched Kai's lips. For the first time in a long while, he didn't feel like he was stumbling blind through the galaxy.
Here, under the watchful eyes of the ancient master, he could truly begin.