The padawan reached down and ran her fingers across the rich bottom, and stirred up the silt. All the world around her stood in silence and all she could hear was her own pulse through the thick transparency that hugged every inch of her body. Adai’s chest began to burn and she lifted her head above the surface, and drew in another breath. Her mind was no longer weightless, and her hair clung to her face. Her clothes felt heavy.

Adai looked up as she quietly tread water, up through the silver boughs of the trees high above. The air’s caress against her cheek was warm and peaceful; serenely inviting. The young Jedi smiled as she continued to gaze around the forest in a sudden humility.

What do you smile at? A voice echoed in her mind. It was distant and kind, as if the owner didn’t want to intrude.

Adai turned around, still not touching the bottom of the pond, and found a pair of pale slate-blue eyes looking at her. The gaze was mild and not intense at all: reflecting the tranquility of the landscape on which they looked upon every day.

Everything, she thought back. I’m not so used to forests and nature as you are. It’s very different... where I come from.

“Tánamin,” he suddenly said, and Adai only understood the phrase because he thought out its meaning at the very same time.

“Show me,” she said softly, slowly, looking down at the water and smiling at the tiny revelation. Adai looked up at him. “Show you.” She pointed to him as she spoke the words, and he caught on.

The boy nodded.

“Show me.”

“Alright...” she muttered to herself, swimming closer to him. Adai looked down at her feet as they kicked under the surface, trying to think up an image that wouldn’t... freak him out too much.

Alright. Come ‘ere.

The padawan placed her hands over his ears and temples on each side of his head, and closed her eyes.

It was the main hall that first came up. With its vaulted ceiling stories high, and the marble columns (such a wonderful rarity on Coruscant) and the bronze statues of other Jedi from the earliest days of the order. The image behaved as if it were being seen through the eyes of someone else, so naturally, the view panned from right to left casually, and even upwards, at the balconies of the three stories above. There were Jedi everywhere. Some sat on benches and read ancient texts in the form of books, others were viewing holograms. There was also a lesson being taught on the right. Thirty or so young padawans sat on the floor and listened as their instructor lectured them on one thing or another. But the viewer turned away and towards a great opening behind them.

Do you want to see the outside?

I would, if you would.

Adai Seth inhaled and the observer in the previous thought began to walk through the open doors and outside.

Before them was laid the cities of Coruscant in all their splendor. Adai heard a gasp from her partner somewhere in the outside world. They looked up behind them as they walked out from the temple a bit. It was massive. Speeders, spacecrafts and other vehicles sped along invisible highways far above, and in the distance, a cruiser took off from one of the many runways built to accommodate ships of such monumental proportions.

And there the memory ended, and Adai opened her eyes, removing her hands from the boy’s head. He looked at her strangely, as if he didn’t believe what he just saw.

A silence passed over them and the two continued to look at each other.

That is where you are from? He asked. The thought was faint. Confused.

You can’t tell this to anyone.

They wouldn’t believe me if I did.

Adai smiled lightly at this. She suddenly felt dangerous. She felt like a walking taboo. He couldn’t let her secret get out. She knew that none of the residents of this planet would believe in most of the things he saw in the thought, but still. It could still endanger her.

What’s your name, by the way?

“Anessen,” he said. “Essa en lle?”

She blinked, assuming he asked her what hers was in return. “Adai Seth?”

He pointed to her and said her name. “Adai Seth...” The padawan smiled at his accent.

Suddenly, there was a shout from her right. Adai jerked her head in the direction of the abrupt noise, and saw a man standing down the path. He stayed still, and she read an aura of anger around him.

“Tula sinome, Anessen. Usidhril!” His tone was cold and commanding.

Anessen closed his eyes and groaned before hastily swimming to the bank and stepping out of the water. He lifted his head and answered the man. “Amin hiraetha. Tullen adar!”

He didn’t bother wringing out his pants as he ran across the bridge towards the man.

I’ll be back, I promise.

The two walked off, and Adai could’ve sworn that she heard the man cruelly scolding the boy, and she was left in the pond by herself.