The first bolt flashed out of the darkness, a line of deadly crimson streaking from the edge of the forest that surrounded the hilltop, right at Loden. He flicked it away with a tiny motion of his lightsaber blade, sending it high into the night, pointedly not back at the person who had fired it.

In the way a single drop of rain falls a moment before the deluge, blaster fire poured from the darkness, arrowing toward the two Jedi, all aimed well, all killing shots. None found their mark. Bell fell into the Force, sending every shot away with his saber, knowing that he was not only protecting himself but his master, too. Each bolt Bell deflected was one that didn’t get past him, didn’t stab through Loden Greatstorm’s exposed back.

In the same way, Loden protected Bell, master and apprentice using all their skill to preserve life.

It was exhilarating. There was no Bell Zettifar; there was no Loden Greatstorm—there was only the Force, the small-but-steady flame of Bell merging with the greater fire that was Loden to create a roaring blaze that shone out into the night, pushing back all darkness, all death.

Star Wars The High Republic Tales of Light and Life "All Jedi Walk Their Own Path"