Ilum's cold was the kind that swallowed sound, softened breath, and turned motion into something almost sacred. Nitya moved through the snow with unhurried steps, the world around her muted beneath layers of ice and wind. The planet felt ancient, watchful, and strangely welcoming—its silence not empty, but full of purpose.
She had come here with nothing but resolve and the faintest whisper of the Force guiding her forward. For years, she had walked the galaxy without a lightsaber at her side, not out of fear or avoidance, but simply because the moment had never been right until now. Something in the quiet of Oralis Prime had shifted; something in the current of the Force had changed. Ilum had called, and she had answered.
The snow crunched softly beneath her boots as she crested a low ridge. Below her, the frozen plains stretched in every direction—vast, untouched, shimmering with faint reflections of the crystals hidden deep beneath the surface. Nitya inhaled the cold air slowly, letting it settle in her chest. She could feel the Kyber here, not as a voice or a pull, but as a presence—steady, patient, waiting.
Just as she prepared to continue toward the cavern system her instincts had been leading her toward, a streak of blue light cut across the gray sky. She followed its descent, watching as the silhouette of an X-wing emerged from the clouds. Its engines glowed against the storm before dimming into a graceful landing arc far in the distance.
She didn't flinch or tense. Instead, she stood for a long moment, letting the snow drift across her cloak as she observed the ship's final approach. The presence inside was faint through the storm, but familiar in shape—young, searching, touched by purpose. A Padawan, perhaps. Or someone, like her, walking a path that required them to face themselves in quiet places.
Ilum had a habit of bringing seekers together.
She began walking again, her steps steady, her cloak trailing lightly behind her. She didn't rush toward the newcomer, nor did she avoid him; she followed the same path she had chosen before, which now happened to lead in his direction. The storm curled around her as she moved, the glow of her Zorren eyes catching the light in soft gold.
Whether their paths crossed or diverged, she would accept it.
Whether he sought a crystal or simply refuge, she would not stand in his way.
Ilum held space for them both.
And the Force would guide what came next.
With the same quiet certainty she had carried since arriving, Nitya continued forward through the snow—toward the caverns, toward the crystal awaiting her, and toward whatever the Force intended in this unexpected meeting on a world of ice and memory.
Neriyan Soria
