And then the smile faded, and across the billions of stars separating them, they touched each other’s grief. Ferus’s words conjured up the silence and hush of the Temple, the humming energy of the classrooms, the ring of boots on ancient stone, the laughter of the younglings. The Council chamber, all twelve Jedi Masters sitting in a circle, with their experience, their wisdom, and their strength. They felt the loss of it, fresh and keen as the day it had all been destroyed.
When Ferus spoke again, his voice was soft and measured.
“I’ll leave today,” he promised.
If Obi-Wan said it was important, he would trust that it was.