Private Lost and Found

[Lorn Reingard]

Tags: Acier Moonbound​

Lorn slipped beneath a low stone arch, his boots scraping the glittering floor. The Crystal Caves within Naboo's Sanctuary pulsed with a soft glow, each kyber crystal humming like a quiet heartbeat. The sound should have felt comforting, but to him it was a reminder of everything he had done before, too many times to count.

Young voices chased each other along the walls, laughing like birds in flight. Some carried crystal shards wrapped in cloth; others stood with closed eyes, letting the Force ripple through them. Lorn paused, watching. The peace here was rare, almost too gentle to be real.

He shifted his weight, his hand brushing the empty space on his belt where a hilt had once hung. The loss still felt raw. Sars Sarad 's sharp grin and the sting of annoyance flashed through his mind, and Lorn forced a breath through his nose, trying not to let bitterness settle. It wasn't his first lost blade, but it was an important one. He had built the blade upon his return to Naboo, a symbolic way of starting new on Naboo.

Deeper into the cavern, the crystals sang the same low, steady tune as his own pulse. He knew the path without the Force's help, yet something else brushed his awareness; a rhythm out of sync, uneasy.

A youn man, old enough to have done this before, stood too close to the crystal wall. He walked forward, boots echoing on stone. The kid didn't turn, his focus fixed on the shimmering cluster.

"Lost yours too?" Lorn asked, trying for a light tone. The words hung in the air. Then he turned just enough for Lorn to see the metal elbow where flesh should have been.

A laugh died in Lorn's throat. He rubbed his jaw and muttered, "That… wasn't the best choice of words." He exhaled, rough.

 

[Acier Moonbound]

Location: Naboo

Equipment:
Field Gear | Tic | Cybernetic Arm

He wasn't sure if he was ready to return to the fight, or if he just couldn't stand feeling pathetic anymore. Whether it was resolve or distraction that brought him here didn't matter.

He'd heard about Kyber formations before, in lessons under Pisti Caleida 's eccentric voice. How each one sang differently, how the Force could be felt in their vibration if you listened hard enough. But hearing about it and feeling it were worlds apart. It was like this place tried to breathe life into him again, whether he wanted it or not.

He stood close to the wall, the metal of his left arm caught the light's glow, seams pulsing faintly where synthetic nerves met flesh. The prosthetic had its own hum... mechanical, wrong, but persistent. When he reached for the Force, it answered through it like an echo through glass. He could feel, but not flow. The connection that had once come easily now stuttered, uneven since the Death Star. His duel with Kyrothian Ravoch left scars even the Force seemed hesitant to touch.

A voice broke the rhythm behind him. A man's.

Ace turned, slow. The man beneath the arch was tall and broad-shouldered, his presence almost commanding the air around him. Long dark hair, streaked faintly with age and battle, framed a strong face marked by quiet authority. His eyes were dark, steady, carrying that familiar exhaustion of someone who'd seen too much and survived out of stubbornness alone.

"Could say that." Ace said after a pause, the word more breath than voice.

It wasn't bitterness that shaped his tone. Just memory. The lightsaber he'd lost hadn't been his creation, it had belonged to Vinorl Kastan, the Jedi who'd left it with his mother. And, she in turn, left it with him as an infant, and for years it had been the only thing tying him to a past he barely understood. Losing it had felt like losing her again.

The older Jedi rubbed his jaw, muttered something about poor phrasing. Ace huffed through his nose, though he didn't smile.

"Could've been worse." He said quietly. "You could've said 'need a hand.'"

A faint beep announced Tic before the droid's claws touched stone, the little BD-unit skittered out from behind a crystalline column.. Ace watched him for a moment, a breath of warmth ghosting across his expression. The droid didn't understand what this place meant, but he stayed close anyway, as if guarding Ace.

Ace's gaze drifted back to the crystals. There were other caves closer to the front, but... Naboo had been on his mind. The Force might not reach for him the way it used to, but it still listened. Despite the complications right now, Sibylla was still on his mind.

He looked toward the older Jedi again, voice low. "Don't actually know how this is supposed to work."

Lorn Reingard ​

 

[Lorn Reingard]

Tags: Acier Moonbound​

Lorn chuckled, shaking off the sting of his earlier words. "Could've been worse," the kid had said, and he wasn't wrong. Humor like that showed there was still fight left in him, and Lorn respected that.

His gaze drifted down as a soft beep echoed through the cave. A BD-unit scurried out from behind a crystal formation, claws tapping lightly against the stone. Lorn blinked, surprised. "You've got a droid?" he asked, his tone curious. "Not many bring company down here." He paused, studying the pair. "I guess you're not from Naboo then. First time here?"

"I'd remember someone like you if you weren't." He gestured vaguely around them. "For me, this is routine now. A yearly trip, almost. The crystals know me better than I'd like."

He lowered himself into a crouch beside Ace, the crystal light catching in his hair. His knees protested faintly, reminders of old wars and wounds, but he ignored them. For a moment, he said nothing, only listened to the low resonance of the cave.

"When I was a few years younger than you," he began, his voice low and steady, "my Master brought me to a cave like this. I remember being so sure I was supposed to find the right crystal." He smiled faintly, though without humor. "He told me I had it backwards."

He reached out, his fingers brushing the air near the nearest cluster. The vibration deepened, responding to him. "You listen to it," he said. "The Force flows through everything here, through the crystals and through you. You just have to let it reach back."

Lorn glanced at the boy's prosthetic, then back to his face. "It doesn't matter what's missing," he added quietly. "It'll still answer if you give it the chance."

He stood, slow and deliberate, giving the kid room. "Go on," he said, his voice soft. "It's waiting."

 

[Acier Moonbound]

Location: Naboo

Equipment:
Field Gear | Tic | Cybernetic Arm

Tic's claws clicked once against the stone as the droid tilted his head toward the older Jedi. Ace followed his gaze, half-smiling.

"Yeah." He said. "My best friend. Been with me a while now, rarely leaves my side. Doesn't take up much space and talks less than most people, so… can't complain."

At the second question, his eyes drifted back to the glow along the cave wall. He let it hang for a moment, not searching for an answer, but struggling to verbalize it. Finally, when he did speak, his shoulders slumped slightly.

"Not my first time on Naboo." Ace said quietly "Hoping it's my last, though."

He didn't explain. The words came flat, uninvited. The young man had come to associate the planet with pain, as well as loss. Being here was almost as hard as it would be to return to Dathomir.

Lorn crouched beside him, the crystal light catching faintly in his hair as he spoke about his first cave and his Master's lesson. Ace listened, not interrupting, his gaze stayed on the crystals, but his posture shifted slightly toward the man, subtle but telling.

"They're alive, yeah?" Ace said when the Jedi mentioned the crystal choosing you "They resonate with what's inside you, right?" His voice was quiet, murmuring more to himself. "My old Master told me about them, but I never had a reason to find one."

Still, he listened to what Lorn said further - about letting it reach back. Ace's gaze drifted toward further crystal formations ahead. It doesn't matter what's missing snapped his attention back.

His jaw fixed, "You sound so confident." Tic gave a low, curious chirp, as if urging him on. Ace sighed through his nose. "Guess we'll see."

He turned back to the crystals, extending his organic hand. The light along the cavern walls shifted, it was a faint shimmer, almost imperceptible at first. The vibration in the air deepened, a single tone brushing against his awareness like some sort of cautious greeting. The current of the Force flowed through the hum of his prosthetic, stuttering once before smoothing into rhythm.

The cluster nearest him flared softly, the glow syncing to the beat of his pulse. For the first time in months, the echo inside him didn't feel hollow. He stayed there a moment longer, letting the quiet fill the space between them before speaking again, voice low.

"That me, or... is that one glowing?" He asked.

Lorn Reingard​

 

[Lorn Reingard]

Tags: Acier Moonbound​

Lorn's lips curved faintly at the kid's remark. "Naboo isn't for everyone," he said easily, though a wistful note touched his voice. "But it's been kind to me. My home world always seems to offer second chances when I need them most."

Lorn watched Ace's shoulders stiffen when he mentioned hoping it was his last time here. There was more to that reaction than words, but Lorn didn't pry. He recognized the weight of it, the quiet resentment that came from expecting too much of the Order, or of life itself. He'd worn that same expression once, and perhaps still did.

The crystal before them pulsed again, soft and deliberate, its glow matching the rhythm of Ace's heartbeat. Lorn felt it too, a faint hum threading through the air and through them both. The Force was reaching, testing the bond.

"That's you," he said, his voice low but sure. "It's listening. You've got its attention now. The question is, what do you feel?"

He straightened slightly, folding his arms across his chest as he studied the resonance. "This is an important choice," he added, the corner of his mouth quirking. "If you do it right, you'll never have to go through this again." A dry chuckle followed. "Can't say the same for myself. Third time's the charm, or so they tell me."

The young man's droid gave another curious beep, earning a quiet glance from Lorn before his attention drifted back to its owner. "Your Master," he said after a beat. "You mentioned them. Where are they now?" He kept his tone gentle, creating space for the boy to answer if he wished, rather than probing.

Lorn knew that kind of distance, the way absence could become its own teacher. He'd seen it cultivate clarity in some, and anger in others. He wanted to know which path this young man followed.

"Every crystal," he said after a moment, his voice soft again, "reflects the one who claims it. Strength, doubt, hope, loss. It only matters that you're honest enough to meet those things, whatever shape they take."

He tilted his head toward the glowing cluster. "So," he murmured, almost smiling, "what's it saying to you?"

 

[Acier Moonbound]

Location: Naboo

Equipment:
Field Gear | Tic | Cybernetic Arm

Naboo was older Jedi's homeworld. That, Ace didn't suspect. In fact, he found it ironic. Naboo didn't look like it could make someone like him. Too soft, too clean, too full of marble and music. Yet here stood a man who carried himself like he'd been carved from stone. He was scarred, steady, unpretentious. Maybe that was the point. Maybe the planet made men like him to remind the rest of them that peace wasn't built by gentle hands alone.

Ace's gaze stayed fixed on the crystal's glow, its rhythm steadying into his own pulse. Lorn's words echoed in the space between them - What do you feel?

He wanted to say nothing. That it was just light and vibration, simple physics. But lying to a Jedi, especially one who listened the way this man did, felt pointless. The hum in the air wasn't cold or distant. It felt… searching. Like the crystal was testing him, not for worth, but for truth.

"I don't know if it's saying anything." He said after a moment, voice low. "Feels more like it's waiting. Like it wants to see if I'll flinch first... or something." Ace drew a quiet breath, the movement shallow. "It's warm, though. I guess."

Tic gave a soft chirp at his feet, head tilting toward the glowing cluster as if to agree. Ace glanced down at him, then back to Lorn when the question about his Master came.

"Pisti Caleida." He said "I don't know where she is. Wasn't her official apprentice, so duty called her away a lot." His tone carried a hint of sadness "One day, she kind of just didn't come back."

The thought of her stirred a deep sense of loss within him. It had been months since he'd heard from her with no hint to where she was. Even in the Force, it was vague. Despite their bond, he couldn't tell whether she was alive or dead - it was simply... limbo.

The Jedi went on to explain that Kyber crystals reflects the one it is claimed by. Ace's eyes narrowed ever so slightly, as if contemplating. What was it saying to him?

Ace didn't answer right away. The hum around him deepened, less a sound than a feeling, a pulse under his ribs, steady and familiar. He could almost hear his heartbeat slowing to match it.

His brow creased. "It's quiet. Not empty, just… quiet." He let the silence stretch, fingertips hovering an inch above the crystal. "It doesn't sound like forgiveness, or comfort. It's more like…" His voice faded as he searched for the word. "…recognition."

The glow brightened in time with his breath, slow and deliberate. Beneath the light, memories stirred - Dathomir, Atrisia, the Death Star.

"It knows what I've lost." He said softly. "But it's not mourning it. It's saying what's left is still me."

His prosthetic hummed as the current flowed through it without faltering. For the first time since the Death Star, the Force didn't stop at the metal.

"It's not about moving on." He breathed. "It's about continuing. About being here."

Tic gave a soft chirp beside him. Ace's mouth twitched, tired but genuine. The crystal steadied, warm and sure, its light reflected across the wall. In that glow, he didn't look broken, just still standing.

"You said 'third time's the charm.'" He said, glancing at the Jedi with a raised brow. "Why's this the third?" The smirk that followed was faint, practiced, there for form more than feeling.

Lorn Reingard​

 

[Lorn Reingard]

Tags: Acier Moonbound​

Lorn watched the young man, a silent observer as he spoke. The light caught his face, revealing a flicker of pain beneath a surface of wonder. The crystal's glow had settled into a steady pulse, mirroring his breath. It was working. Words felt insufficient; the Force was already speaking.

When he mentioned his Master, something familiar resonated in Lorn's chest. The name meant nothing, but the emptiness that followed - she just didn't come back - that, Lorn understood all too well. He let the silence settle between them before speaking softly. "I lost mine too. Soloman Varnell." Saying the name aloud after so many years felt strange, bringing a familiar ache. The silence after his Master's death, the unfinished lessons, the weight of continuing alone. The pain, however, had softened with time, worn smooth like a stone in a river. "It's strange," he murmured, his gaze fixed on the glowing wall. "You think the ache dulls, but it never really does. It just becomes part of the rhythm."

He continued to talk about the crystal, calling it "recognition." Lorn's lips curved slightly. Recognition. It was a word most Jedi shied away from, preferring "balance" or "purpose." But he had named something truer. "That's a rare insight," Lorn said quietly. "Most think the crystals are meant to heal them, or fix what's broken. But they don't fix. They reflect. They show you that what's left is still worth holding onto." He gave him a long, measured look. "That's not a small thing to understand."

When Ace turned the question back on him, Lorn let out a soft, weary chuckle. "Third time," he echoed, shaking his head. "Yeah. It sounds like carelessness." He leaned back against the stone, memories surfacing as his gaze drifted upward. "The first," he began, "my Master and I built together. Though, I'd found my crystal with a girl. My first love, if I'm honest. The saber meant more than it should have. It was a promise of something I didn't yet understand." His voice gentled. "I had to leave it behind. Both of them."

He hesitated, then continued, his voice rougher. "The second, I forged here; in this very cave. After the war. After too much loss. I told myself it was a symbol of starting over, of rebuilding what was left of me. Maybe that's what you're doing now." A faint smile ghosted across his lips. "But the galaxy has a way of testing our symbols. The Black Sun got that one. Took it off me after an attack here. I know where it is. Both of them, actually. Just… not worth the cost of getting them back." He sighed, glancing at the glowing crystal before them. "So here I am again. Third time. Hopefully the last."

For a moment, he let the silence stretch, the low hum of the cave filling the space between them. Then he shook his head, as if remembering himself. "And I've gone on without manners." He extended a gloved hand, a faint, rueful smile tugging at his mouth. "Lorn Reingard. Jedi Order. Knight, Commander, Council... whatever title they've decided fits this week." His tone softened, almost amused. "Don't put too much weight in those. They sound more important than I actually am." He nodded toward the crystal, still pulsing in time with Ace's heartbeat. "That, though," he said quietly, "that's something worth carrying."