The workshop aboard the Crucible hummed with quiet energy, not the roar of engines or the whine of hyperspace, but something deeper. The sound of creation itself.
I stood at one of the workbenches, my golden-yellow crystal resting on a velvet cloth before me, its black hue catching the overhead lights and seeming to drink them in. Around me, the other younglings worked at their own stations, their faces set in concentration as they assembled the components that would become their lightsabers.
At the center of it all moved Professor Huyang.
The ancient architect droid was a marvel to behold. His frame was elegant despite its age, bronze and silver plating worn smooth by millennia of service, joints moving with a precision that spoke of countless repairs and upgrades over the centuries. His optical sensors glowed a soft amber, and when he spoke, his voice carried the refined accent of a scholar from a bygone era.
"Steady hands, Youngling Derren," Huyang said, looking over to where Derren was carefully aligning the power cell housing. "The emitter matrix must be perfectly centered, or your blade will flicker. We wouldn't want that, would we?"
"No, Professor," Derren said, his tongue poking out slightly as he made the adjustment.
Huyang had served the Jedi Order for over a thousand years. He had guided younglings through this sacred process more than a million times, he'd told us, each one unique, each one a reflection of the Jedi who would wield it. His memory banks contained the specifications of every lightsaber ever constructed under his watch, and his wisdom about the relationship between Jedi and blade was unmatched.
The workshop itself was a place of reverence. Workbenches lined the walls, each equipped with precision tools, focusing lenses, and diagnostic equipment. Bins of components, emitter shrouds, power cells, focusing crystals, activation matrices, were organized with meticulous care. The air smelled of ozone and metal, with an underlying scent of something I couldn't quite place. Something alive.
The Force, I realized. The Force itself seemed to permeate this space, drawn by the presence of so many Kyber crystals in one place.
Before we'd begun our work, the Masters had examined our crystals one final time.
Master Fay had held Derren's snow-white crystal up to the light, her expression one of wonder. "Youngling Derren, your crystal is so pure. No Kyber crystal has ever been found like this on Ilum. It shows how at peace you are, so at peace that you are free of corruption. This is extraordinarily rare."
Derren had blushed, his ears turning red. "Thank you, Master. I'm still surprised I found it."
Yoda had examined Barriss's jade green crystal with curiosity, turning it over in his small hands. "Unique, your crystal is, Youngling Offee. Rare, your color is. Not yet seen this green color, I have. But strong in the Force, I can feel from you when you hold it. A healer's heart, you possess. Great things, you will accomplish."
Barriss had smiled, her dark blue eyes shining. "Thank you, Master."
Shaak Ti had approached Seris as her crystal glowed in the light, its golden-yellow radiance spreading across the workshop like captured sunlight. "Youngling Seris, I have never seen a crystal so radiant. It fits you perfectly, your determination, your precision, your unwavering conviction. This blade will serve you well."
Seris had maintained her calm expression, but her ears had twitched with barely contained happiness. "Thank you, Master. I appreciate the words of praise. I hope to not let you down."
Shaak Ti had smiled warmly. "Child, I believe you won't."
Obi-Wan had stood next to Anakin, studying the indigo crystal with its dark hue and the faint white lightning that seemed to dance within its depths. "Well, Anakin, I will admit I am surprised. I knew there was a possibility, with your strength in the Force and your abilities, of something like this. An indigo crystal is extremely rare. Especially one that looks alive with power like yours does."
He'd placed a hand on Anakin's shoulder. "It shows your inner struggle, yes. But it also shows your strength. The lightning within, that's your passion, your power. The dark hue represents the challenges you face. But the clarity of the indigo itself? That's you choosing to overcome those challenges every single day."
Anakin had looked down at his crystal, then back at Obi-Wan. "Thank you, Master. But I'm fine, truly. I think this reflects my power in the Force, a constant struggle, but one I'm meant to overcome every time." Then he'd looked at me and the others. "And I'm not alone. I have them by my side."
Obi-Wan's expression had been one of profound pride. "Well said, Anakin. Qui-Gon would be proud to hear that. And he'd be even prouder to see how much you're growing as a person."
"Thank you, Master."
Obi-Wan had ruffled Anakin's hair affectionately. "I'm not your Master yet." They'd both chuckled at that.
And then Huyang had approached me. His optical sensors had focused on my crystal with an intensity I hadn't seen before. He'd leaned in close, his mechanical joints whirring softly, and for a long moment, he'd simply observed.
"My, my," he'd said finally, his refined voice carrying a note of genuine surprise. "I haven't seen a Kyber crystal like this before."
I'd nodded. "Yeah. I never read about a crystal like this in any of the Archives."
"That's not unusual," Huyang had replied, straightening. "Certain individuals over my time have obtained unique color crystals. It's honestly rarer than a high midichlorian count. It's extremely rare to find one with both." He'd paused, his sensors dimming slightly as if accessing deep memory banks. "You're the second person I've seen with a rare crystal and a high Force connection."
My eyes had widened. "Who was the other person?"
"The Mandalorian Jedi, Tarre Vizsla."
I'd felt my breath catch. "Wait, what?"
"I said Tarre Vizsla, Youngling Cain." Huyang's tone had been patient, as if he was used to repeating himself to shocked younglings. "Now, I don't remember his exact midichlorian count, but I was told at the time it was very high. He didn't get his Kyber crystal from Ilum. But he did come to me for guidance on how to construct his saber hilt."
Huyang's optical sensors had brightened, as if with fondness. "Which, to this day, is one of the finest blades I have ever seen. A true one-of-a-kind. And no Jedi after him has been able to recreate the saber he made."
I'd looked at my crystal with new eyes, wondering what it meant. What did this color represent? What did it say about who I was, or who I would become?
Now, hours later, I stood at my workbench with the components laid out before me. The crystal sat at the center, pulsing gently with that golden-black light.
Around me, the others were deep in their own work.
Anakin had chosen a design that surprised no one, a bulky, practical single-blade hilt that spoke to his straightforward nature and raw power. The grip was wrapped in leather for better control, and the emitter shroud was reinforced. It was a weapon built for durability and strength, reflecting Anakin's approach to everything: direct, powerful, uncompromising.
Derren had gone in the opposite direction. His hilt was sleek and narrow, almost elegant in its simplicity. Every line was clean, every component precisely placed. It was a Soresu practitioner's weapon, designed for efficiency and control rather than overwhelming force. The activation stud was positioned perfectly for his thumb, and the pommel was weighted to provide perfect balance.
Barriss had crafted something that reflected her scholarly nature. Her single-blade hilt featured intricate runic engravings along the grip, ancient runic symbols representing healing, wisdom, and compassion. The metal itself seemed to glow faintly in the workshop's light, and I could sense the care she'd put into every detail. This wasn't just a weapon to her. It was a tool of her calling.
Seris had chosen a curved hilt.
I'd watched her work on it with the same perfectionist intensity she brought to everything. The curve was elegant and precise, the grip wrapped in silver-white material that matched her hair. The emitter was sleek and narrow, designed for the precise strikes of a dedicated duelist. Every component was placed with exacting care, and the overall design looked almost fragile, but I knew better.
"Only a true duelist makes something great happen with less," she'd said when I'd asked about the design. Her silver eyes had met mine with absolute confidence. " I'm going for efficiency, and elegance with precision. Those are the things that matter."
"I can tell." I said with a smirk.
And now it was my turn.
I'd struggled with the design more than I'd expected. I knew I wanted a standard single-blade hilt, something practical, but still versatile. But another part of me was drawn to the curved hilt design, the elegance and precision it offered for dueling.
In my previous life, I'd been an anime fan. The katana aesthetic had always appealed to me, the graceful curve, and the deadly simplicity. And in this life, with my training in Makashi and my growing understanding of precision combat, the curved hilt made sense for dual wielding.
But I also knew I wasn't ready to create my true blade yet. The Darksaber's design called to me, that unique, flat blade with its katana-like profile. But I didn't have the materials or the knowledge to recreate something like that. Well not yet anyway.
So I would build something practical now. Something that would serve me well until I was ready to forge my lightsaber when I was older. Or my second lightsaber.
I reached for the components, letting the Force guide my hands. The hilt took shape slowly. I chose a curved design, but not as pronounced as Seris's. The grip was wrapped in black leather, and the emitter shroud was sleek and minimal in desgin. The overall aesthetic was dark and understated, a weapon that wouldn't draw unnecessary attention but would serve its purpose with deadly efficiency.
As I worked, I felt the crystal singing to me through the Force. Not with sound, but with presence. It was guiding me, showing me where each component needed to go, how the focusing lens should be angled, how the power cell should be calibrated.
This was more than construction. This was communion. Hours passed. The workshop grew quiet as each of us became lost in our work. Huyang moved between us, offering guidance when needed but mostly letting us find our own way.
And then, finally, it was done. I held my lightsaber in my hands, curved hilt, black grip, sleek design. It felt right. And around me, the others were finishing as well.
"Well done, younglings," Huyang said, his voice carrying pride. "You have each created something unique. Something that reflects who you are. Now comes the moment of truth."
We moved to the center of the workshop, forming a loose circle. The Masters had gathered as well, Yoda, Fay, Plo Koon, Shaak Ti, and Obi-Wan, all watching with expressions of anticipation.
All the other younglings ignited their lightsabers, as blue and green filled the haul. Then the rest of us ignited ours.
Derren went first. He raised his hilt, his hand steady despite the nervousness I could feel radiating from him. His thumb found the activation stud.
As a snap-hiss sound released.
A pure white light erupted from the emitter, filling the workshop with radiance. The blade was steady and unwavering, humming with a clarity that seemed to cut through the very air. It was like looking at captured starlight, brilliant, pure, and untainted.
"Beautiful," Master Fay whispered.
Derren stared at his blade with wonder, then deactivated it with a smile.
Anakin was next. His hand gripped his bulky hilt with confidence, and when he activated it, the workshop was filled with a different kind of light.
Then Snap-hiss.
A indigo with a dark hue appeared, the blade burned with intensity. And around it, barely visible but definitely there, white-indigo lightning flickered and danced. It was like watching a storm contained within a blade.
"Incredible," Obi-Wan said softly, his eyes wide.
Anakin held the blade up, watching the lightning dance, and I could feel his emotions through our bond, pride, wonder, and a deep sense of rightness.
Barriss activated hers next.
Then Snap-hiss. A jade green light bloomed, it was elegant and serene. The blade hummed with a different quality than the others, softer, more harmonious. Just standing there with it ignited, Barriss radiated grace and peace. The green light seemed to soothe something in the Force itself.
"A unique blade," Master Shaak Ti said with approval. "It feels soothing to look at."
Then Seris stepped forward. She held her curved hilt with the confidence of a master duelist, despite being only ten years old. Her thumb pressed the activation stud.
And Snap-hiss.
A bright golden-yellow light erupted from the curved emitter, radiant and warm like captured sunlight. The blade sang with a high, clear note, and the way it moved through the air was mesmerizing, elegant, precise, deadly. Seris held it in a perfect Makashi salute, and the sight took my breath away.
She was radiant. The golden light reflected off her silver hair and pale skin, making her look almost ethereal. And the way she held that blade, with absolute confidence and perfect form, showed exactly who she was becoming.
Finally, it was my turn. I raised my curved hilt, feeling the weight of everyone's eyes on me. The crystal pulsed within, singing its wordless song.
I activated it. Snap-hiss.
A Golden-yellow light blazed forth, but not pure like Seris's. Mine was shot through with shadows, black hues that swirled within the blade like smoke in water. The effect was mesmerizing and unsettling in equal measure. The blade hummed with a deep, resonant tone that I felt in my chest. And as I moved it through the air, I could see the way the golden light and black shadows danced together, neither dominating, neither yielding.
The workshop was silent. Then Master Plo Koon approached me, his masked face tilted slightly as he observed my blade.
"In all my years," he said quietly, "I have never seen anything so radiant and mysterious at the same time. I believe you are quite a unique case, Youngling Cain."
"What do you mean, Master Plo?" I asked, deactivating my blade.
"Time and time again, you have surprised the Council and the Jedi Order," he said, his voice carrying the weight of wisdom. "And now you have discovered a new Kyber crystal color, or perhaps rediscovered something ancient that we might have forgotten. You may not be the Chosen One, but you are something the Order cannot simply judge as special or unique. You might be something we cannot begin to comprehend."
I felt my face heat with embarrassment. I'd never expected such direct praise from Master Plo Koon. "Thank you, Master. I appreciate the words of praise. I will do my best not to let you down."
"Do not worry, Youngling Cain," Plo said, placing a hand on my shoulder. "I believe in you regardless."
His words settled over me like a warm cloak. Master Plo Koon was one of the Jedi I respected most, a master of both combat and philosophy, a leader who valued compassion as much as strength. His belief in me meant more than he could know.
Around us, the other Masters were examining the blades with expressions of wonder and approval. Yoda leaned heavily on his gimer stick, his ancient eyes moving from one youngling to another.
Finally, he spoke.
"Younglings," Yoda said, his voice carrying through the workshop with quiet authority. "Completed the Gathering, you have. Formed your lightsabers, you have. These blades are not merely weapons. They are extensions of yourselves, reflections of who you are and who you will become."
He paused, letting his words sink in. "Now, on to the next step in your training, you are." His eyes gleamed with something that might have been pride. "Ready for your Padawan trials, you are."
The five of us looked at each other, and I felt the excitement rippling through our bond. This was it. The next step. The moment we'd been training for.
Anakin's eyes were bright with anticipation. Seris stood tall, her expression calm but her ears twitching with barely contained excitement. Derren was grinning openly. Barriss had a serene smile on her face.
And me? I felt a deep sense of conviction settling over me. I'm doing the right thing, I thought, looking at my friends, my family. We're ready for this. Together.
Anakin's new saber color was a sign of the changes that were being made. The indigo with its dark hue and white lightning, it represented his struggle, yes, but also his strength. His ability to overcome. His refusal to be defined by his pain.
I just hoped I was doing the right thing....No. I knew I was doing the right thing. Because I wasn't doing it alone or for me. I was doing it for them. And I knew together, we would face whatever came next.