Control The Uncontrollable // The Acolyte

95. The Escape

Master Sol's gaze drifted to you. Your eyes were closed, hands tucked within the folds of your cape. But he knew you weren't resting—not even meditating. Your mind was in motion, operating at full capacity, fitting together fragmented pieces like a puzzle only you could see. He couldn't help but wonder how you did it—how you could sense so much, as if awareness itself were a muscle you'd trained to respond on command.

"What's on your mind?" Sol asked softly.

You turned your head toward him, eyes weighted with something heavy.

"The consequences of my future decisions," you said, calm—not afraid, but fully aware.

The ship was quiet, save for the soft hum of the hyperdrive and the occasional flicker of lights overhead. You sat near the viewport, your cape draped around you like armor, hood drawn low over your brow. Master Sol had lingered by the console at first before settling across from you, posture rigid despite the stillness. The escape had been swift, precise—threaded through narrow corridors and forgotten passages of the temple, routes Sol remembered only from his earliest days as a Padawan. You hadn't spoken once during the flight, and yet every step had been in perfect sync. No alarms. No raised voices. Just two shadows slipping past the Council, unseen. Now, silence hung between you like a pact—heavy with everything that hadn't been said. For a moment, Sol wondered if he should be concerned that you had surpassed him—but he wasn't. He was proud. Fiercely so.

"And... Master," he said at last, studying your face, "are those decisions ones you fear?"

A small smile touched your lips. It was still strange, hearing him call you Master, and with such reverence. Yet deep down, you both knew—you would always be his Padawan. You met his gaze.

"I'll disappoint some, and excite others," you said quietly. "It will be balance."

Sol nodded slowly, unsure what future you'd seen, or where he fit into it. But one thing, at least, was clear.

"Balance is what we need," he murmured, his eyes drifting to the nav display as the stars blurred and then snapped back into form. "We're here. Landing in fifteen."

You rose, giving him a nod of quiet gratitude. "I'll be in the back. Meditating," you said, your voice soft as you turned and walked down the corridor. Sol returned the nod in silence, then leaned back, letting his gaze fall to the planet ahead.

Last time you were here, you had guided the people—saved them. Thanks to your efforts then, the coordinates were still in the system. But for Sol, this planet was no beacon. It was where everything had begun to unravel. Where he'd lost Jecki. Where the darkness had stirred within him for the first time, where grief had cracked the foundations of who he thought he was.