Light
The snow had softened the world.
Aiden stood at the center of the small training circle, boots pressed into packed white where weeks of repetition had beaten the ground flat. Beyond the ring, the Naboo plains stretched quiet and endless, golden grasses hidden beneath winter's hush, the land resting rather than sleeping. Snow clung to the low stone walls and the edges of the homestead roof, catching the sunlight until everything seemed rimmed in pale fire.
He drew in a slow breath.
The air was cold enough to bite, but the sun was honest today, bright, steady, generous. It warmed his shoulders through the layers of his cloak, melting the edge of the chill and leaving that familiar Naboo balance between frost and light. He had always loved winter here. It demanded awareness. Sloppy movement punished you. Carelessness left you cold.
Good conditions for training.
Aiden rolled his shoulders once, loosening muscles that already knew what was coming. His lightsaber hung at his side, unlit but present, its weight a constant, reassuring truth. He reached out with the Force, not searching so much as listening. The homestead carried its usual quiet rhythms, the distant creak of cooling stone, the soft hiss of wind over snow, the low, steady pulse of life beneath the plains. Somewhere beyond the rise, a presence moved closer, familiar in its cadence even if still indistinct.
Aiden allowed himself the faintest curve of a smile as he shifted his stance, settling into readiness. Today would be a quick look over fundamentals, angles of attack, economy of motion, learning how snow altered balance and timing. No theatrics. No rushing ahead. The lightsaber was not a weapon to dominate with. It was a discipline. A conversation between intent, motion, and restraint.
Then, further training would come. The Force stirred gently around him, sunlight glinting off untouched snow as the quiet waited with him. Kas would arrive soon. And when he did, the lesson would begin.