Dinluke Book idk I hate naming things

22

  Luke is doing what he usually does, trying his best to reign in younglings. He's been trying to teach them discipline, but it's clearly not working as they form a mutiny against him, begging for more sweets. Luke sighs. Din has inadvertently spoiled them too.

  Luke spends time missing Din.

  Luke cooks for the younglings, and when he comes out with the food, he finds them banging the forks against the table, chanting 'we want food' over and over again.

  Luke does his chores, he cooks, he tucks the kids to sleep, he teaches, and he does everything all over again.

  Luke has his eyes closed, faced towards a tree. "...Three, two, one. Ready or not, here I come!"

  Luke reopens his eyes, a big grin on his face. The younglings had always put him to work, and now was time to get some sweet revenge, by sniffing them all out, one by one, and reigning as the unofficially hide-and-seek master.

  He prepares to sense them out using the force. He's allowed to, the kids set the rules themselves.

Emptiness.

  Luke's brows furrow. Sensing the younglings was usually an easy task. They had such bubbly and bright auras that it would be difficult to ignore their positive presence in the force.

  Yet here Luke was, sensing nothing.

  Luke swallows nervously, and clears his head. Maybe he was just having an off day. He goes to the kitchen to check the cabinet. It had always been Gungi's favourite spot, despite of how he hardly fits in there, and that he gets found first almost every time.

  Luke opens the cabinet. Nothing.

  Maybe he's finally learned his lesson and hid somewhere else.

  He goes to the bedroom. Every single time, there's always at least one youngling that hides under the beds. Surely they would be there?

  Luke bends down to check. Nothing.

  Maybe they realised it was too obvious of a spot.

  Luke's desperate now. He tries to quell the rapid beating of his heart, and his shallow breathing. He checks everywhere, tossing around pots and pans, yelling out their names, he tries yet again to sense them through the force, and alas, emptiness.

"Gungi? Luars? Asin?" He yells out.

  Nobody responds.

  A delirious laugh bubbles up from Luke's throat. "Alright guys! You got me! I give up! You can come out now!" Luke raises his arms up, twirling around in an empty field of grass.

  Still, nothing.

  Luke doesn't know what to do. He balls his fists and he kneels down onto the grass, thinking of where they could've gone.

  They were all here just a while ago, how did they manage to disappear?

  He panics. He yells again and again, yet nobody ever responds. He yells until his voice gives up on him, searching for them.

"Turn around," A voice commands him.

  Luke's teeth chatters as he runs a hand up and down over his arms. Winds that weren't there before suddenly howling, blowing around him. Flakes of white snow floating around them.  A shiver settles down in his spine, that feeling of frost and bitterness, he's felt it before.

  The voice so familiar, the darkness that seeps in and surrounds him, the hopelessness and rage. It's all too familiar.

   Luke turns around, just to see as he predicted. A man in silver, snow and frost coated over his helmet, a blade of pure darkness that ignites in his hand, cape fluttering in the howling winds.