Aleister unfolded his wings, and smiled. The day would be a good one.

He yawned lightly, peering through the gentle darkness, feeling the inviting warmth of that which was the staircase. He pondered for a moment, and reached out, hunting for the presence that Dolash tended to leave behind.

When he was certain that it was no where in the cave area, he begrudgingly proceeded to make his way up the spiral, the brighter the lights, the more he was amused, until he finally stood at the open mouth, reaching out with whatever senses he could, trying to find Dolash's familiar... "scent".

Outside of the temple the frequent snow storms that wracked the surface of Ilum had briefly let up, leaving the planet's thick white blanket of snow stretching off in every direction. The sun glimmered down through mostly clear skies, reflecting intensley off of the vast snowfield.

In the clear light of day the mountains could now be seen, towering up to the clouds and far off to the horizon. That was all Ilum had to offer, snow and mountains. Not a scent on the breeze, not a sound in the air, and hardly any life to speak of.

Hardly any, that is, except for the cave in which Dolash grew his little garden. The top edge of the cave mouth was just visible from ground level, and from there emanated flickering torchlight.

Perhaps the Jedi master had gone to collect his breakfast?

Aleister peeked out of the cave mouth, into the white of the "driven" snow as they called it.

To be perfectly honest, if Han hadn't been keeping him sane, he might have grown frustrated with these games that Master Dolash seemed fond of playing. However he knew that this was the path he was to lead, and that he knew that frustration was one thing that was needed to be not repressed but vanquished from the mind of those who wish to truly understand the Force.

The Force, that was another thing that Han had explained to him.... even in a joking manner. As he described it, it was alot like a human invention called "Duck Tape" or something similar... It had a Light Side, a Dark Side, and it held the world together.

Han also had helped him understand these urgings he had when he was looking for someone and that spark he felt when he would sense Master Dolash.

Han described it as an "aura" something that everyone who is Force Sensitive has, which is also called a "Presence." Supposedly, later that night after the work was done with Dolash, and he rested, Han would teach him how to mask that presence when necessary.


Han didn't seem evil, as he had suggested he had been previously. In fact he didn't seem like a bad guy at all.... Aleister pondered this as he stood in what would have been a bitter cold wind and cocked his head up at the flickering light at the other tunnel, pointing his wings back and taking a running leap, he flew up to where the light was and landed lightly, stepping gently inside the other cave. The days work was to begin.

When Aleister entered the cave he could see that Dolash had already been and gone. The torch was burning down and the mossy lichen had been freshly picked from his side of the trickling stream. On the other side of the water, however, he had considerately picked a small pile of choice lichen pieces, leaving them untouched.

That wasn't all, though. The vegetation clinging to one wall had been swept away, revealing a rough carving. It was of the mountain range, and upon closer examination its accuracy belied its crudeness. The entrance to the temple was clearly marked, as was the location of the garden cave. This was not all, though, there was also a dotted path that lead up the side of the mountain towards what looked like a tower perched near the very peak.

A narrow hole in the roof of the cave let in light from outside while keeping out most of the cold. From it hung a dried vine tied as a rope, and out of it the mountain's peak was visible. If there was something at the top it was almost impossible to tell from the glare and distance.

Was it a clue? A coincidence? A trick? No hint had been left.

Aleister chose instead to exit the cave mouth, and climb the face of the mountain path, where the mouth of the cave had been, only enough to take flight once again, heading towards that which was the area where the rope was tied. He would take to flight as that was his typical strength, which Dolash would not expect if it were a "trap".

The cold did not bother him, though the wind shear did slow him considerably as he took to lift with his wings flapping behind him.

eventually, he reached the next level, and his eyes could see that the rope was tied off against something, which he casually and cautiously flew towards.

It appeared, upon closer examination, to be a weathered stone anchor. Decades old - perhaps centuries? Millenia? - the stone work had clearly borne the weight of many ropes and many beings. Following the anchor-point with the eye, however, lead one to a concealed stone staircase leading up the mountainside.

It was, perhaps, somewhat generous to call the tumbledown heap of stones a staircase. Nevertheless, a worked path of any kind beat untouched stone. Like the anchor, this too had been worked over by the hands and feet of generations of temple inhabitants, as well as a few ice storms. The path itself was incredibly steep and winding, impossible to discern from regular stone at a great height upwards.

From this outer position it was easier to see the top of the mountain. It did seem, at least to an informal observer, that there might be something at the top. Another temple? A tower? A big cave? Some sort of ruin? The only way to know would be to check, though the blowing cold and thinning air promised to make it a difficult task.

Aleister did not notice the biting cold, but he did come to realize that flying to the new point would be nigh on impossible with the winds blowing as hard as they were. He would lose one of his advantages here.

He sighed gently, and took a moment to map the best way to climb up this archaic "staircase", and began to trudge up it, slowly.

All the while he searched for Master Dolash's force Presence as Han had taught him in his sleep, in order to make the task easier.

It was a long, steep, cold, uncomfortable climb. One perhaps done by generations of Jedi students, and almost certainly one universally cursed by them.

The trip was not dangerous, at least not in any sharp physical way. There were no sudden drops, no narrow passages or weak ground. The wind, however, did still deliver a sharp chill to the bones and the blinding rays of the sun did sparkle on the icy caps of the frozen peaks. It was a cold, lonely journey and not one undertaken lightly.

For beings of committed purpose, like Aleister, these were but token challenges. Tests to feel out his true dedication, to see if mere discomfort or impatience might be sufficient to derail his path. They were not, and as the young man at long last crested the highest peak with the sun now high in the sky, he could look down on the vast snowplains of Ilum and know he had conquered the mountain.

That was not the point of his journey, however, no. At the top, half-buried in the snow, were the remains of a grand watch-tower. The walls were ruined and caved in, letting snow drifts into the inner chambers. The top levels had been completely blown away by time and erosion - and perhaps other forces, if the history of Ilum had once been more eventful than it was now.

One key point in all these early investigations was that the invisible presence of Dolash could not be felt anywhere. His indelible psychic beacon in the mysterious Force was nowhere to be found, meaning either he was masking i as a test, or maybe - just maybe - he wasn't there at all.

Aleister would not be detered. He continued to take note of the surroundings, and while the cold did not bother him as it may others, he was growing slightly frustrated.

He began to wonder, whether Dolash was there at all, but he did not seek Han's advice at this time, he wanted to test what he had learned. Instead of searching specifically FOR Dolash's force signature that he had come to recognize, he began to search the surrounding area for abnormalities, things that would tip him to a cloaked prescense. This would help him to determine whether Dolash was merely testing him, or whether he had gone further off.

He sat down by the ruins, and closed his eyes, reaching out to deepen his connection to the Force, and search for the abnormalities. He would not move again until he was satisfied their were none, or he found what he was looking for.

Ilum was, at first, a dull place. One needed only to scratch the surface of the dull ice ball, however, to find the secrets buried underneath - be they a Jedi temple, or perhaps something more...

The air was thin at the top of the mountain. It was lethally cold in the exposed wind, with only the ruined walls of a small chapel and watch tower to protect oneself. There was not a scrap of life, from a giant Jedi Master to a tiny speck of lichen, nothing could live for long on the roof of the world. Then again, not all things of interest are living.

Aleister's mastery of the Force was still instinctive at best. Raised hackles and an uneasy feeling do not a spirit-seer make. Nevertheless it was impossible to ignore the strange sensation of activity that had thrived just below the surface of the temple the day before. Like a rumbling from below its vibrations could be felt reaching up through the mountain heart, much more acutely than before.

It felt like... a throbbing within the earth itself. Like being pushed by motionless stone, as if it yearned to speak and move. What's more, it was definitely coming from the temple itself all the way down underground and pulsing into the little chapel's eroded walls. That it could be felt so sharply from the top of the mountain only spoke of its strength at the base.

And then again, as before, it was gone in an instant - broken, perhaps merely blocked. The sensation it had left was umistakable and unforgettable. Loss.

Just like that, the mountain's peak became just another pile of snow-covered, wind-whipped rock.