Into Exile

[Jagen Wren]

​

JEDHA​

852 ABY​

---

---

---

​

---

The cool sand of the desert moon was compressed underneath the man's steps as he trekked across the barren wastes, his tattered brown cloak fluttering slightly in the twilight winds. Jagen Wren had been free of this place for nearly a year now, wandering around the Galaxy to fill himself in on the events that had occurred during his exile. At the beginning he had found temporary solace in a Jedi Order, one that followed all of the ideals he had purposefully upheld for much of his life; In the middle, he met someone that he would have admitted he cherished for however short their time together was.

And now here he was, at the end of all things.

The Jedi Order had fallen destitute without the guidance of the now-dark Jedi Master, [member="Veiere Arenais"]. A great conflict had erupted between the corrupt forces of light and the conquering darkness, a shadow having cast itself over the denizens of the Galaxy. He found solace in the fact that his familiar was reportedly alive, fighting against the Sith and their Imperial allies on Thyferra; after all, he still wished they could've gotten to know each other more, to have fought against a common enemy together, to exemplify what it was to be a Jedi.

And now here he was, wallowing in his self-pity and misery on Jedha once more.

 

[Jagen Wren]

He trudged over a mountainous ridge, letting the light from the sunset flood over his tired features. Below him, in a small valley, were the remains of a once prosperous village. It was this very village that he spent most of his exile either in or nearby; watching over the place and driving away threats, unbeknownst to the people that lived within it. Even in hiding, he was still a Jedi, and he had a duty to the people. Nobody knew he had been one, they just thought he was an old hermit, and he played the part too.

Jagen looked towards the other side of the valley, spotting a brick hut amongst the rocky outcroppings. After a year of neglect, his home still remained unruined. Memories drove past of the Wren telling stories of the great Mandalorian warriors to children of all ages, of the Jedi Knights of the Republic.

And they were gone, all of them, due to his foolishness and bravado.

He wiped away the wetness forming at the corner of his eyes, deciding to wait before letting his sentiments get the best of him. For now, he had to reach his hut and gather enough supplies to survive the night that was rapidly approaching. The Jedi leapt from the summit of the ridge, using the Force to glide through the air and land in the centre of the village.

 

[Jagen Wren]

All around him were signs that a great battle had taken place. Scorch marks from blaster bolts adorned the walls of houses, the skeletons of vaporized innocents lay scattered around the village square. Most of them were adult-sized, of various species, but a few of them were minuscule and child-like. Once again, it took effort for him to maintain his composure as he walked among the dead, careful as to not step on any remains.

His eyes met a sight that he thought he'd never see again, for among the bodies of innocent villagers were those of the people who perpetrated the massacre. Multiple black-robed, helmeted individuals were present in a semi-circle before him, deceased. Clutched in their hands were martial weapons, from vibroblades to quarterstaffs; he locked his gaze on the corpse of their 'leader', a lightsaber mere inches away from the man's open palm.

All of them sported small gaps or wide slashes in and on their torsos. Jagen knew exactly what had happened to them, what terrible fate befell on them.

For he had been the one responsible for it.

 

[Jagen Wren]

The massacre had happened the day before the end of his exile. Jagen had managed to stay hidden from the Galaxy for thirteen long years, but he had been discovered by the First Order; A Knight of Ren, along with multiple disciples, tracked him down to the village. Apparently, a spacer that had passed through the village was caught blabbing about some 'old hermit' on the desert moon, prompting the ambitious group to seek Jagen out.

When they arrived, he was out in the desert collecting water for a family that was too ill to do so. They demanded that he reveal himself, and the village was defenceless against their onslaught when their challenges went unheard. It was too late when he returned, having rushed from the plateau after he witnessed the smoke.

They goaded the Jedi Knight, showing him their handiwork while calling him weak and old. The helmets they wore hid the shock and horror on their faces when the 'old hermit' slaughtered them in vengeance, enraged. It was the closest he had ever come to the Dark Side, and the reason he left the moon almost a year ago.

 

[Jagen Wren]

Jagen knelt down next to the Knight of Ren, picking up his former adversary's lightsaber and examining it with his gloved fingers. Not unlike his hut, the sands had been kind to the weapon as well, the black metal of the hilt nearly spotless. His digit found the switch, pressing down on it and causing a crimson blade to spring out with a sinister snap-hiss. Immediately afterwards, a crossguard of sorts appeared below the main blade, intriguing the Jedi Knight.

He released the switch, watching the crackling energy retreat back into the confines of the hilt. Replacing the device on the ground next to its master remains, the man stood and began walking to the other side of the valley; towards his hut. As he arrived at the structure, he raised his arm and dragged a hand across the stone, remembering when and how he had built it.

The man pushed open the metal door, stepping inside the dark building. He instinctively pulled at a chain hanging above him, illuminating the single room in the hut.

 

[Jagen Wren]

It was how he had left it, neat and untouched by the environment outside. Jagen shut the door behind him, finding his way to a metal chair and sitting down at a makeshift table. In his haste to leave, he had forgotten several books from the Jedi archives. They were worn after more than a decade of heavy use by the man, causing him to smile slightly as he remembered the knowledge he gained from them.

He was about to get ready to leave again so he could scavenge for supplies, but the light above him went out and left the hut in darkness. Jagen let an exasperated sigh escape his lips, running a hand through his hair. His senses flared and he realized that the room was no longer dark.

A blue hue filled his vision, emanating from something on the other side of the hut away from him. He squinted, allowing his vision to adjust until finally, he realized what or who was standing before him.

"I've missed you, Young Wren."

 

[Jagen Wren]

"Master Kenor..."

Jagen only managed to breathe these words out, surprise and a hint of excitement visible on the middle-aged man's face. The old Atrisian man smiled at his former pupil, his hands clasped in front of his 'body'. "Yes, yes. I know, it's been a long time." Kenor chuckled, amused by the younger man's reaction, "But you need guidance, young one. Even if you do not think it so."

The knight rose to his feet, moving until he was in front of his master. "Why now? After so long?" Jagen questioned, prompting another smile from the ghost. "You imposed an exile upon yourself, to uphold your principles as a Jedi. You believed it the right answer, compared to war." Kenor began wistfully "Now you return, intent on continuing it. That, I cannot allow."

The Atrisian Jedi paced around Jagen, silently contemplating him before speaking once more. "People need you, Jagen. They need a Jedi that will avert conflict, but will defend them if forced." Kenor exulted "She needs you. A peace to her war, a yin to her yang."

 

[Jagen Wren]

The ghost of his master stopped in front of Jagen, beaming. "You are ready to carry the rank of master," Kenor informed, nodding "But there is one last challenge you must face, your demons." At this, the door to the hut creaked open, exposing him to the elements.

Jagen gazed outside, uncertain of something, before looking back at the Atrisian. "What if I can not face them again, what if I fail?" He pleaded, lips curling into a slight frown. Kenor smiled knowingly, reaching his arm out and placing a hand on his pupil's shoulder.

"Failure is the greatest teacher, my padawan. We are what we grow beyond. That is the burden of all masters." Master Kenor assured, one last smile appearing on his tired face before he vanished, leaving Jagen Wren alone once more.

 

[Jagen Wren]

Allowing the words of Master Kenor to settle into his thoughts, Jagen grabbed the books from the table, placing them carefully into his knapsack before setting the bag on it. He looked up, before reaching with his arms to grab a metal crate from near the roof of his hut and setting it down next to his bag.

He used the Force to quickly open the locking mechanism, flipping open the box and diverting his gaze to the contents within. Another sigh escaped the man's lips, this one less annoyed than the previous and more content.

Outside, his tattered brown cloak was lifted by the wind, flying off into the distance and out of sight as the man left his hut, closing the door behind him for a final time.

Fitting comfortably over the beige robes was a pristine cloak of a dark grey colour, contrasting with the surrounding terrain. It was the new garment of Jedi Master Jagen Wren.

 

[Jagen Wren]

His walk back down to the village was silent, but only on the outside. Hundreds of thoughts plagued his mind, joined by hundreds of questions and almost no answers. Jagen's lightsaber clanked lightly against his robes, the hilt shining as if it was brand new, a change from the normal rusted colour and texture.

The Jedi Master entered the village square for the second time that day, awaiting his quarry. He did not have to wait long, for the corpses of the Knights of Ren began clambering to their feet, weapons grasped firmly in their hands.

Jagen's face remained emotionless, with neither disgust nor giddiness apparent. He unclasped his lightsaber from his belt, watching the 'leader' ignite his. His final trial was to vanquish those who had wronged him and so many others not out of vengeance, but of justice.

 

[Jagen Wren]

The Ren approached him cautiously, apparently having learned from their previous mistake last year. The humming of their vibroweapons blending with the crackling of their leader's saber. Jagen ignited his lightsaber, a bright blue blade sprouting from the confines of the hilt with a snap-hiss.

The first to attack was the same to do so during their previous encounter, a disciple wielding a rather vicious looking hammer that he attempted to take Jagen's head off with. The man ducked, allowing the weapon to harmlessly whiz over his head, before plunging his saber forth into the torso of the disciple, prompting it to disappear.

Another disciple followed, attempting to whack the Jedi Master with his quarterstaff, only managing to garner itself a slash down its chest until it too disappearing into nothingness. Jagen twirled around, catching another disciple of Ren at the waist, and created some distance between him and the rest of his adversaries.

 

[Jagen Wren]

The remaining disciple simply had had enough, sallying forth with his vibrosword raised above his head in an attempt to bring it down on the Jedi Master. He responded by slicing his hands off swiftly, before impaling him on his blade. The last disciple disappeared into the Force, leaving only the Knight of Ren.

The Knight flourished his saber, clashing spectacularly with Jagen's own. The sounds of the saberlock radiated throughout the village, as did the light from the blades connecting. "I'll destroy you, and then I'll destroy her." The Knight growled through the helmet, 'face' inches away from his enemy's.

Anger did not appear on his features, like it had done long ago, but was replaced with resolve. "No, you won't." Was all the Jedi Master had to say, breaking the saberlock and swiping his saber at his enemy.

 

[Jagen Wren]

The blade met with the neck of the Knight of Ren, relieving the corpse of its head, which flew a short distance away before settling next to a set of stairs. The headless body dropped to its knees, beginning to keel over until the remains disappeared.

Jagen looked on, glad that his trial was over. He observed as the last sliver of sunlight dipped below the horizon, leaving him standing in the blue hue of his lightsaber. Deactivating it and replacing it on his belt, the darkness was pushed away by the floodlights of his StealthX fighter, which descended carefully next to him.

The Jedi Master leapt into the cockpit, securing himself into the seat and grabbing hold of the controls. Beginning to gain altitude, Jagen spotted something out of the corner of his eye. Standing next to his hut, his former home, Master Kenor waved one last time at his legacy before disappearing again.

Leaving the atmosphere of the moon, Jagen fiddled about with the computer systems, still attempting to derive answers from his whole experience. "R6, comb Alliance and Jedi affiliated frequencies," Jagen commanded gently,

"I need to find [member="Kira Vaal"]."