He hadn’t touched his collection in years, except to dust it. Memorabilia from a lifetime of obsessed fandom: perfect replicas of all his favourite characters’ weapons, scale models of their vehicles, and of course the crown jewel of his collection: the custom-built lightsaber he’d painstakingly crafted with all the authenticity he could muster.

Built with pieces assembled over years, everything from conveniently sized scrap metal to hand-carved wood to twisted plastic, all held together with thin seams of gold. A truly unique, personal piece, built around a tiny light bulb and coloured crystal so it could light a blade-section if he ever bought one.

But he never would; a plastic glowing tube didn’t have the same appeal. Instead, the saber would remain forever unlit, and only in his imagination would he ever wield it.

Or so he’d thought.

He woke with a strange vibration humming through the air around him, sound wavering like the light over a flame. He didn’t even think about it as he opened the display case and clipped the saber to his belt loop, slipped his phone in his pocket, and put on his hat. Just another part of his daily routine.

Something strange was in the air, and he had to investigate.

He left his house and headed toward the park, where he sensed a heavier rippling that pulsed with urgency. He walked faster.

A half-dozen children ran about, lightsabers in hand, blades glowing with unreal vibrancy. Their movements weren’t the clumsy childish inelegance he’d have expected - each moved with smooth grace and quiet purpose.

Three carried red blades, three who were larger and stronger and moved as a group. Three were shades of blue, from pale to cyan to cobalt, carried by those who ran and dodged.

None of them spoke. He understood the situation at once.

Fury rose up in him, a righteous anger at the subversion of such power, and he strode forward, blade ignited from instincts he never knew he possessed. His blade was sharp and thin, a verdant green the shade of leaves in springtime, and it sprang to life with a somehow-familiar hum that resonated through his entire body, matching and focusing his emotions into clarity of purpose.

“Leave them alone.” He almost didn’t recognize his voice, bold and strong, without a hint of hesitation.

The three enemies turned to face their new challenger. One laughed. “What are you doing out here without your walker? Aren’t you going to fall over, old timer?”

Being old, being feeble, such things were no longer of any significance to him. He took a step forward, lowering his blade into a ready defensive stance. “If you seek to harm these children, I will stop you.”

They moved together, sharp and quick. He flowed back, deflecting and evading, moving with a strength and surety he’d never before experienced. The flash and spark of blade on blade should have felt foreign, but it did not.

Part of him thrilled at the contest, while another part knew that this was a sad necessity but a necessity nonetheless.

He moved with sudden ferocity, breaking his pattern of retreat and evasion, and with three quick slashes forced the inexperienced largest foe’s blade high, then cut across its hilt in a slash that left the aggressor weaponless.

The other two closed in, their movements intensified as they began to take him more seriously.

But they’d forgotten their initial targets. The three smaller children came in a ragged line and stood beside him, moving with not quite as much speed, not quite as smoothly, but far more than anyone could reasonably expect of them.

Faced with two-to-one odds, the remaining attackers lowered their weapons and backed down.

“This isn’t over,” shouted one, leveling his saber at the old man. “You can’t protect them forever.”

“And I won’t need to.” He deactivated his blade, clipping it back to its place on his belt. “It will only require a little training, and they can protect themselves.”

So that was how he started a Jedi Academy, saturday afternoons at the park, lightsiders only.

It wasn’t how he’d anticipated spending his retirement, but until that morning he wouldn’t have thought lightsabers would become real either.

And in the end, he couldn’t have imagined anything more satisfying.