Study Guide to the Jedi Masters Holocron

Jedi Memory Entry — Padawan Sam
Location: Near the walls of Jerusalem
Mission Log: Brass Plates Retrieval, Attempt II
Holocron Classification: Trial by Rod

“That night, I learned how close the light side truly stands to the faithful.”

It was after the second attempt—when we offered our family’s gold and silver to Laban, and he sent his guards after us like we were thieves.
We brought our family’s riches—gold, silver, fine things—and laid them before Laban in good faith. What we received was betrayal. Guards. Blades. We ran through narrow streets like hunted dogs and left our past in a heap behind us. We barely escaped with our lives. Left everything behind. Our past. Our wealth. Our pride. We had just lost everything.

Laman was furious. Lemuel too. Their rage wasn’t quiet—it came with fists, threats, and shouting. But it didn’t stay focused on Laban. It turned to Nephi.

I had seen my brothers angry before—but never like this.

We were alone in the wilderness just outside the city. No guards. No father. Just fury. Laman grabbed a rod—a staff, really—and raised it against Nephi. Lemuel was egging him on, picking up his own rod. Nephi stood there, calmly trying to speak the word of the Lord.
And then—Laman snapped. Lemuel followed.

The rod came out, and it didn’t stop with Nephi.

I was trying to defend him—trying to pull them off—but the blows came for me too. My arms went up to shield my face. I stumbled. I felt the rod crash down against my shoulder, my side. We were both on the ground, and still the beating came.

They would’ve killed us. I truly believe that.

And then—light.

A sudden stillness hit the air like thunder had paused.

He didn’t descend like fire. He was just there. Light. Power. Presence. Like a sun igniting in the middle of the night.
The blows stopped instantly. They fell back. They dropped their rods like it had burned them.

The angel spoke—and his words were simple:

“Why do ye smite your younger brother with a rod? Know ye not that the Lord hath chosen him to be a ruler over you?”

I didn’t just hear it. I felt it—like it was etched into my bones.

Nephi rose to his knees first. I followed, slower—bruised, breath ragged, but alive. Something had changed in the air, in us. Nephi wasn’t just being protected. He was being proclaimed.

That angel didn’t just save us. He marked us.
Nephi—the leader, the chosen vessel.
Me—the witness, the willing companion.
Laman and Lemuel—the warned.

Nephi’s eyes were full of light—not pride, not vengeance, just resolve. From that moment, it was clear:
He wasn’t just our brother anymore.
He was chosen. Shielded. Sent.

After the angel vanished, Nephi didn’t gloat. He just turned toward Jerusalem again, steady and silent, ready to try once more.
That’s the kind of courage you don’t teach. That’s the kind of faith that makes the Force itself bend to your path.
I never forgot the pain of that night.

But I also never forgot that I chose to stand with Nephi—and suffer with him.

He didn't walk into destiny alone.

I walked beside him.

— Sam, Son of Lehi