Objective: Crystal hunt
Location: Central Courtyard, Temple of the Economic Watch, Planet Nevarro to First Jedi Temple, Ahch-To
Outfit: Light adventure clothing
Tags:
Matsu Ike
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Olarra Zand
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Seo Linn
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Connel Vanagor
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Novac Lyrikal
Kyrie’s bright expression softened into something more thoughtful as Seo spoke to her. The encouragement landed more deeply than the older Jedi might have intended. Most of Kyrie’s life—what little of it she could remember—felt like a series of abrupt beginnings, instincts without explanations and skills without memories attached to them. Progress was difficult to measure when she did not know where she had started. Still, she had noticed the changes Seo described. There were moments now, brief but real, when she remembered to breathe before reaching for a weapon or allowed herself to feel a situation before rushing into it.
“Thank you,” Kyrie answered, a little quieter than before.
“I’m still better at chasing something than waiting for it to come to me. But Master Matsu’s been teaching me that moving first isn’t always the same thing as moving forward.”
She looked toward Matsu as she said it, smiling with the faint pride of a student who hoped she had remembered the lesson correctly. Seo’s explanation of the crystals made Kyrie’s brows lift with interest. A living stone that could not simply be tracked, cornered, or collected sounded less like any bounty she had ever imagined and more like meeting someone new.
“So we don’t really hunt them,” she reasoned aloud.
“We introduce ourselves and hope they answer.” It sounded strange once spoken, though not wrong. Kyrie gave Olarra an easy grin, sharing in the Pantoran’s obvious excitement even if they understood the coming journey in very different ways.
The arrival of more Jedi drew her attention in quick succession. Kyrie offered Novac a welcoming wave before her gaze naturally climbed the length of his serpentine form. She had seen enough unusual beings since awakening that surprise no longer translated immediately into alarm, but she still watched him with open curiosity. Connel’s approach earned a different sort of attention. There was something in the man’s bearing that reminded Kyrie of professional soldiers she had encountered—controlled, confident and prepared without needing to announce it. Her eyes briefly shifted past him toward Lira and Buster before returning to the growing group.
Then Matsu raised her hand, and the air itself began to change. Kyrie’s mouth fell open. The shimmering distortion gathered in front of the temple, reality bending until an ocean and distant island appeared where the courtyard should have continued. She had witnessed Matsu perform things Kyrie could neither explain nor imagine reproducing, but this surpassed all of them. She took an unconscious step closer, staring into the gateway as though trying to find the seam where one side of the galaxy ended and another began.
“The Force can do that?” she breathed. She looked from the portal to Matsu and back again. Every lesson seemed to reveal that the boundaries Kyrie assumed existed were merely limitations in her own understanding. She had thought lifting objects without touching them was impossible until it had felt natural. She had thought the Force was something inside her until Matsu taught her to feel it flowing through everything. Now entire worlds could apparently be connected by reaching through something called the Netherworld of Unbeing. Kyrie decided she would ask about that later. Much later. When the explanation might no longer make her head hurt.
Hanae’s excitement made her laugh, though the laugh turned into a startled noise when the little girl nearly surged through the opening and Matsu caught her by the belt. Kyrie watched Olarra stride through with fearless enthusiasm, followed by the others, and found herself lingering for only a moment. Her first instinct was to leap through. Instead, Kyrie stopped.
She drew in a measured breath, just as Matsu had taught her. The portal was not a target to charge or a hazard to overcome. She reached outward with her awareness, feeling the quiet strength of the temple behind her, the presence of the Jedi around her and the strange, distant pull beyond the shimmering threshold. Only after grounding herself did she step forward.
The crossing lasted no time at all and somehow felt longer than a hyperspace journey. Kyrie emerged into the First Jedi Temple with her hand instinctively hovering near the blaster that was not there. She caught the motion, lowered her arm and silently congratulated herself for having followed the instruction to leave her combat gear behind.
Ahch-To immediately overwhelmed her senses. The sea air carried salt and moisture across ancient stone renewed by careful hands. The temple rose around them with a gravity Kyrie could feel even without understanding its history. Jedi moved between halls alongside caretakers and unfamiliar organic constructs. Equipment was tested in open areas, students and researchers passed beneath carved archways, and everywhere she looked the past appeared to exist comfortably beside the present.
Kyrie slowly turned in place, trying to see everything at once.
“This is where the Jedi started?” she asked, almost under her breath. The question held more wonder than skepticism. She knew so little about where she had come from that the idea of standing somewhere tied to the beginning of an entire tradition struck her in an unexpectedly personal place. Perhaps origins did not answer every question. Perhaps they did not need to. Sometimes it was enough to know there had been a beginning at all.
The Crystal Biots quickly claimed her attention. Kyrie watched their small, jerking motions and the blue veins glowing beneath their skin as streams of information passed across nearby displays. Matsu’s explanation did little to reduce her fascination.
“They’re alive, but they carry the archives?” Kyrie asked. She leaned slightly to one side, studying one of the biots from a respectful distance.
“Are they people, droids, or something in between?”
She seemed entirely prepared to accept any answer. Her own body contained enhancements she did not fully understand, and skills implanted by people she could not remember. The distinction between something born, built or changed felt less obvious to her than it might have to others.
Movement overhead pulled Kyrie’s attention sharply upward. The Fairalee swept between the islands with broad, feathered wings, their humanoid bodies banking gracefully through the ocean wind before one settled upon a distant rock. Kyrie followed every motion with the focused eyes of a hunter, though there was no calculation of range or vulnerability in her expression. Instead, she watched the effortless coordination of wing, body and air with naked admiration.
“They’re beautiful,” she said.
Hanae’s declaration about the bird lady catching the snake man made Kyrie cover a laugh with one hand. Her eyes flicked apologetically toward Novac, though the amusement remained plain on her face.
“I think she means you,” Kyrie whispered, as though there were any chance he had missed it.
Then Matsu pointed toward the larger creatures helping the Jedi with their equipment. Dragons. Kyrie’s attention snapped toward them with such intensity that her entire body seemed poised to follow. Powerful, wise and capable of shifting, whatever that meant. Curiosity surged through her, accompanied by the reckless certainty that she needed to see one up close immediately.
Her foot moved. Kyrie stopped it before it touched the ground. She remained where she was, visibly wrestling with herself for a second before releasing a slow breath. When she looked back at Matsu, there was a sheepish smile on her face.
“I was going to run over there,” she admitted.
“But you said to be careful.” Her gaze returned to the dragons. The restraint had not diminished her interest in the slightest, but it had kept that interest from deciding her actions for her.
“What does ‘they shift’ mean?” Kyrie asked.
“Shape? Size? Mood?” She paused, considering the possibilities.
“Please don’t say all three.”
Despite the joking tone, Kyrie stayed near the others rather than wandering away. She adjusted the strap of her small satchel and let her awareness stretch outward once more, trying to listen as Seo had advised. The island felt old, alive and impossibly deep within the Force. There were too many new sensations for Kyrie to identify individually, but she did not chase any of them. Not yet. She stood beside the others, eyes wide with wonder, waiting for Matsu to lead them onward toward the caves and whatever might be waiting there to answer.
Kyrie Blaze
Nolan ork
