The clearing buzzed with excitement as we gathered our belongings and prepared to board the ship to head back to the Academy. The jungle's towering trees swayed gently in the wind, their crystalline leaves shimmering in the strong sunlight, making me look at them and think back on everything that had happened since arriving, not just since coming here but in the past year or so since I came to the Jedi Order to learn. I knew I still had a long way to go and that I had to improve myself... but I felt happy. And satisfied, just like everyone else around me. I could feel it. Still, there was something else, but... what? After chasing away my thoughts, unable to find the source, drowned out by the excitement, Vila and I stood to one side, checking our packs and ensuring everything was in order.
"Looks like we're all accounted for," Ben Skywalker said, his calm voice cutting through the chatter as he stood near the ship's boarding ramp. His presence was filled with authority, and I knew he may have been silently guiding or at least overseeing us while we were away. I firmly believed that I found my way back to the starting point by locking onto his presence... and that he was keeping the group focused despite the lingering excitement from our kyber crystal journey. Knowing when to pull back to let us gain experience and when to gently nudge us toward the correct path through the Force.
As I tied the last strap on my bag, a different figure stepped forward from the crowd. Aren Drelis. I wondered since leaving what his deal was because his words to me at the start of our journey were still ringing weirdly in my mind. Although... I did forget about it until now. His posture was rigid, and his face looked severe. Subconsciously, I could read his mood: he was a bit disappointed. In what? Ah... I get it. It was him who I felt a moment before. He believed I would fail. I was somehow sure of it... Sensing his unfriendly disposition, a ripple of tension spread through me, but then I straightened my back, not wanting to back down. Vila's lekku twitched beside me, her posture immediately bristling with suspicion, noticing the change in the air, too.
"Kael Varo," Aren began, his voice loud enough to carry over the group. As if using the Force to make everyone notice him, all eyes turned toward us, and I felt the weight of their gazes settle on the two of us. Aren's tone was formal, almost ceremonial, and my heart sank as I realized what was coming. It wasn't going to be a simple insult or something trivial.
"I, Aren Drelis, challenge you to a duel," he said, his words hanging in the air like a thunderclap out of the blue sky. Here? Right now? Right after we got our lightsabers? Of course...
A murmur ran through the group at once. Some of the Padawans exchanged uncertain glances while others leaned forward, their interest piqued. While dueling was not rare, everyone knew Vila and I were going at it constantly while training. Both of us knew this was something different. This was an official challenge. Vila's eyes widened as she stood next to me. She was about to take a step forward, her hands curling into fists, when I spoke up.
"A duel?" I asked, keeping my voice calm despite the knot forming in my stomach. Aren's blue eyes were unwavering as he met my gaze, nodding.
"Yes. Here, in the presence of our peers and under the judgment of Master Skywalker. It's time we determine the truth about you. About your fake smiles and feigned friendships, of your manipulations."
Are you serious? Well... I knew exactly what he meant, though. Aren probably had always been skeptical of me, viewing my natural attunement to the Force and through it to others as a form of manipulation. To him, my ability to make connections and gain the trust of others wasn't genuine but a calculated exploitation of my inborn gift. I'd sensed his unease before, but I could only put it into thought after Vila also explained it to me. Still... this—this was a public declaration, and I would lie if I said I wasn't annoyed by it.
"You think a duel will prove that?" I asked, my tone steady.
"It will show everyone who you truly are," Aren replied, his voice sharp. "Whether you're as sincere as you appear or if you've been hiding behind the Force to win us over." He exclaimed in a calm tone, glancing at my lightsaber, and I knew he was also meaning my lightsaber's color. With its underlying hue... Haaah... I knew it wasn't normal. We learned that most sabers are blue or green but that there are many other variants, depending on the Jedi and their attunement in the force. As for mine? I knew not what it may really mean. Even I was unsure of it.
"That's ridiculous!" Vila interjected, finally stepping in front of me. Her voice was filled with genuine anger, her eyes blazing, just like his lightsaber would when activated. "Kael isn't hiding anything! You're just making excuses because you can't stand that people like him!"
Aren's gaze flicked to Vila, his expression unmoved. He scanned her face rather than her body, which was a bit of a mistake, as her twitching lekku was telling more of her feelings than her face would, which was... icy.
"This isn't about popularity, Saresh. It's about integrity. And if he has nothing to hide, then he won't object to this duel."
"It's okay," I said softly as I placed a hand on Vila's shoulder, gently guiding her back. She quickly turned to me, her frustration evident in her eyes, but I shook my head. "I'm not angry. Aren has his reasons, and I understand them. You do, too, because I understand them because of what you told me. Plus... Master Katarn said that by exchanging moves, one can understand the other better."
"Kael…" Vila began, her voice filled with disbelief, but I gave her a reassuring look.
"I accept your challenge," I stated, meeting Aren's gaze. The words came easily, and I meant them. I was confident in my skills anyway, and I didn't see this as a personal attack but as an opportunity to address his doubts—and perhaps my own, too. In answer, Aren inclined his head slightly, his expression unreadable. He turned to Ben Skywalker, who had been watching the exchange wordlessly, arms folded before his chest, letting it play out.
"Master Skywalker, will you preside over this duel?"
Ben stepped forward, his hands slowly unfurling, falling to his sides. His gaze swept over the group, ensuring everyone's attention was on him, before addressing us.
"A duel like this is a serious matter," He began, his voice firm. "It is not a game or a means to settle petty disputes. It must serve a purpose beyond personal grievances." His eyes settled on Aren. "Are you certain this is necessary?"
"I am, Master," Aren replied. "This is about clarity and truth, not anger or revenge." Hearing him speak and watching his eyes, Ben nodded slowly and turned to me.
"And you, Kael? Do you understand the gravity of what you've agreed to?"
"I do," I said, my voice steady. "I have no ill will toward Aren. If this duel will bring understanding for him, I'm willing to go through with it. I will hold no grudges, whatever outcome is reached at the end of it." Master Skywalker studied me for a moment longer, his expression unreadable, but I never drew my eyes away or blinked, not until he nodded.
"Very well. We will hold the duel here before we leave this planet. I will serve as judge, and the contest will follow the standard rules of sparring. Sabers only, no using the Force for tricks or secondary attacks. Understood?"
"Understood," Aren and I said in unison.
Ben glanced at the group of Padawans, his gaze lingering on each of them, thinking a little before continuing.
"Let this be a lesson for all of you. This duel is not about victory or defeat. It is about understanding one another and strengthening our bond as Jedi."
With that, Ben stepped back, gesturing for Aren and me to take our positions. The Padawans formed a loose circle around us, their expressions ranging from curiosity to unease. Vila stood at the edge of the group, her arms crossed and her face set in a foul, tempestuous glare, ready to blow at any moment. I could feel she wanted to join the dueling circle and batter Aren into the ground. Heh... whatever the outcome will be, I had a feeling she would challenge him later anyway.
As I stepped into the clearing, I unclipped my newly built saber from my belt, its weight settling perfectly in my hand. Aren did the same; his movements were precise and practiced. I surveyed his stance and identified it quickly. It was Form V, Djem So, made for dueling—well, not in a way like mine, but by overpowering his enemies. While mine was for deflection and redirection, his was for raw power. If I recall right, it was this form that ended the last Makashi master's life, separating his head from his shoulders. Thankfully, this was not a life-or-death duel...
"Whenever you're ready," Ben said, his voice calm but commanding, his senses enveloping both of us through the Force.
I took a deep breath, centering myself, shutting the outside world out. The Force quickly flowed through me, steady and unyielding, and I allowed it to guide my movements. I could sense Aren's focus, his determination, and beneath it all, a flicker of doubt. As for what for... I couldn't read it. Still, Master Katarn was right.... sometimes, clashing is a form of exchanging ideas.
The first move was Aren's. His blade came down with a powerful vertical strike, his blue saber humming loudly as it cut through the air. I sidestepped, pivoting on my heel and angling my own saber to redirect the blow away from me. The energy of his attack traveled harmlessly into the ground, but the sheer force of it made my arms tremble. Djem So was no joke...
He followed up immediately, pressing the advantage with a series of heavy, deliberate overhead strikes. Each one was meant to overpower me, to break through my defenses. I gave ground, letting him chase me, his aggression becoming our rhythm. I focused on the flow of his movements and the tempo of his strikes—high, low, mid, high, low, mid, high. It was a pattern, and once I saw it, I couldn't unsee it.
I waited for the right moment, forcing my mind to be calm and calculating, to not let his aggression provoke me into a panicked move he could exploit. When his blade came down in another heavy arc, I stepped inside his swing, letting his momentum carry him forward. My blade flicked up, aiming at his exposed side lightly but decisively.
Yet, before I could scorch his clothes and signal my victory, he managed to dodge, twisting his body at the last moment. With an unnatural spin, putting strain on his legs, he recovered quickly, his eyes narrowing as he adjusted his stance, trying his aching ankles facing me once again. His attacks became more calculated this time around, and his movements tightened. He was adapting, and so was I. I let my instincts guide me, my saber moving in fluid arcs that matched and countered his relentless strikes at its weakest moments. Even then, each clash of our blades sent a jolt up my arm, but I stayed grounded, attuned to his energy and flow.
It wasn't just about reacting; it was about feeling it out. His emotions were like ripples in the Force, and I could sense the frustration creeping into his focus. He wanted to dominate, to prove his point and forcefully break through, but the more he pushed, the more he exposed himself. I knew he felt like he was fighting against a current... the harder he pushed, the more elusive I became.
Finally, I stepped forward, my blade weaving in a defensive arc to catch his next strike. Our sabers locked, the hum of the energy blades filling the clearing. For a moment, we were frozen, my strength against his strength. Then, knowing that I would lose if I kept it up, I shifted my weight, spinning to his side and breaking the lock. With the sudden disengagement, I directed his saber away from his body while mine darted forward, grazing his right shoulder ever so lightly.
"Point," Ben's voice called out, calm and authoritative, breaking us off for a moment with the Force surveying Aren's injuries, but it was only his clothes that got singed.
Aren's frustration was palpable now for everyone else, too, but he didn't let it overwhelm him. With a sharp breath, he came at me again, faster this time, his strikes a blur of controlled aggression. I matched his pace once again, our sabers flashing as we moved in a deadly dance. The Force was my ally, guiding my movements, whispering the rhythm of the fight, feeling my saber move fluently in my palm, utilizing my curved hilt and its advantages to the maximum. This was no longer like practicing with the training saber. This was... an entirely different level, and I could only achieve it because this saber had my kyber crystal in it.
Then I felt it—a shift. His strikes became slightly erratic, his rhythm faltering. He was trying to anticipate me, but in doing so, he was losing his own flow, abandoning his form, the stance he studied. It was a mistake; we are still Padawans. One thing I understand is that if, as a beginner, we think we can just create something new in the middle of a duel, we think way too much about our gifts! I seized the moment without hesitation, stepping inside his guard once more, quickly exploiting his now messy form. My saber traced a line across his torso, a light touch that ended the duel. I opened his shirt, slightly scorching his chest but not deep enough to leave a scar behind.
"Match," Ben said, stepping forward as the hum of our sabers faded into silence. Our hands pulled away via the Force as if he were holding our wrists—firm but not painful.
I deactivated my saber while I kept looking at Aren. His chest rose and fell as he caught his breath, his expression a mix of frustration and begrudging respect. Whatever he wanted to say was now no longer able to leave his mouth. I bowed slightly, acknowledging his effort but also signaling that I won this round.
The duel was over... but I knew that it was not the last time he or maybe others would approach me about this again.