Empire's Child

Chapter 21

I wake early after a restless night. I could barely sleep. Normally I'm able to walk myself through my schedule tomorrow down to the last detail, boring me to sleep but I had no idea what today will bring. When my clock said 0600, I decided to get up. I wasn't supposed to be down at the training room until 0800 (nearly two hours later than normal) but I arrived a half-hour early. Lifting crates had gotten boring fast, and I can't get to my lightsaber without a code. So I just wait.

The clock finally turns to 0800 and my father enters the room. I jump to my feet, startled, but Father doesn't comment on it. He unlocks the safe holding my lightsaber and tosses it to me. I catch it and clutch the cold metal so tight my knuckles turn white. I still can't believe my father decided to take over the training.

I squeeze my eyes closed for a second. Even with everything he's done (and hasn't done) the terror of being hurt like I was with the Grand Inquisitor is still there, clouding my thoughts.

"Are you ready, Luea?" his voice booms through the room.

I nod, my voice stuck in my throat as the spar begins. I guess it is a good way to make sure I'm fully awake. Despite my best efforts to dodge and parry my father's strikes, I'm almost instantly knocked to the ground with my lightsaber clattering away. The terror floods back, and I can't stop tears from springing to my eyes.

I scramble backward, away from my father. I don't-I can't get hurt again. I already feel like I'm slowly going insane.

"Father, I'm sorry," I stammer. "I can't do this. I'm not strong enough."

To my surprise, Father lowers his own lightsaber and steps closer to me, seeming surprisingly gentle.

"It's okay to be afraid," he says. "But you must learn to overcome your fear if you want to be a true Sith. Look at me."

I look up at him, my cheeks wet with tears. For the first time in three years, I feel like someone is really seeing me, really trying to help me.

"I'll teach you," he says. "We'll work on this together."

"But I'll get hurt again," I say quietly, my voice trembling.

Father places his hand on my shoulder, and I flinch away. But to my surprise, the touch is gentle. "You won't," he says firmly. "I won't let anyone hurt you again."

I'm torn between the longing to believe him and the pain that keeps resurfacing. "Father, I'm scared," I say, my voice barely above a whisper. It's both relieving and terrifying to admit it. I half expect something bad to happen, but nothing does. I look up.

"I know," he says, his voice low. "But you must try. Not just for the Empire, but for yourself."

I wipe away my tears with the back of my hand, determined to try for the first time. I stand up, pulling my lightsaber back to my hand, and face my father again. We resume the fight, and even though I'm still scared, I do my best to overcome my fear.

As we fight, Father offers suggestions and corrections, and I'm definitely doing better than I ever have before. But then, as I try to dodge his attack, I stumble and fall again, and my lightsaber falls from my hand.

I flinch away from my father, expecting punishment, but instead, he lowers his own lightsaber and kneels down next to me. I know in my conscious brain that he probably won't hurt me but my unconscious brain is still scared.

"Luea, why are you crying?" he asks, his voice gentle again.

Not again. I hadn't even noticed. Seriously, it's the second time in the last hour. What is wrong with me today?

I can't stop the tears, and I struggle to speak. "I'm sorry," I mutter. "I'm just scared."

My father places his hand on my shoulder again, and this time, I don't flinch away. Instead, I hesitantly lean into the touch, craving the comfort and safety.

"You don't have to be scared," he says. "I won't hurt you. I promise."

He pats my shoulder, and for the first time in my life, I feel like I have someone who cares about me in a sort of protective or parental way.

The burn on my cheek still stings slightly, but for the first time, I feel like there is maybe some hope for the future.