Disclaimer: I do not own Star Wars.

Keala stared groggily at the ceiling above her bunk. She just laid there, gazing without seeing. She knew she should rouse herself and meditate, but she couldn't find the will power to do so. She didn't want to face another day of monotony. She didn't want to face another day as a failure.

Keala allowed her thoughts to wander. She meandered through her childhood. The memories of her family were faint, within sight, but just beyond her grasp. Stronger were her memories of her early life at the Jedi Temple. She wound her way through long days spent tirelessly studying and training. Endless lessons and insistent training exercises stood out one by one in her mind before melding into an indistinguishable mass: her first instruction in lightsaber technique, when she had injured another student with a generally harmless training saber. Master Cyprin's lessons on different cultures, which she consistently fell asleep during. The first time she succeeded in using the Force to lift a feather, about a month after the other younglings. Master Yoda's words to her at the beginning of the lesson when she was so discouraged that she wanted to give up: "True failure there is only when try one does not."

'Well,' Keala thought, 'I don't want to be a true failure, now do I?' She sat up slowly, trying to find her center and stop the stream of memories. The attempt was futile. Keala walked slowly to her bureau and removed a clean tunic from the upper drawer.

"I can't do this anymore!" she screamed as she spun suddenly around, hurling the tunic against the wall, "I'm seventeen!" Suddenly exhausted, Keala backed up to the wall and slowly sank to sit on the floor. She didn't cry. She just sat there with her eyes closed, and her head on her knees, not moving, not thinking. All that existed was her frustration and anguish.

Seventeen is not an important age for the Jedi. The only important birthday is thirteen. For padawans who have been selected by Jedi Masters, the thirteenth birthday is an occasion for reflection. For students who have not been selected, the thirteenth birthday is the deadline, the point of no return. Keala's thirteenth birthday had come four years ago, without a Jedi Master. She hadn't been surprised. Cruel students had called her a 'fail Jedi' many times and she couldn't disagree with them. Keala rarely did anything right, and when she did it was usually long after everyone else had moved on. Her lightsaber technique was jerky and unnatural. Her control of the force was erratic. And, unfortunately, she had devoted so much time to working on these areas, Keala had neglected her other studies, areas in which she could have excelled. Though she understood and tried to accept her inabilities, every new failure stung and, deep in her heart, she still struggled to accept her fate.

After her thirteenth birthday, Keala had been assigned to work in the Jedi Archives. She was very good at her work. This was a refreshing change from her usual ineptitude, but the work was monotonous. A sense of frustration grew over the long years. Keala, like all Jedi younglings, had imagined herself fighting for peace and justice in the galaxy. Her dreams for her future never involved organizing data pads, one of her never-ending tasks. Worst of all, because she was still at the Jedi Temple, she was constantly reminded of the life she had lost.

Keala took several deep, steadying breaths, trying to summon the Force. Slowly, its calming presence wrapped around her. Keala opened her eyes and slowly stood. She walked quietly across the room and retrieved her tunic from the floor. She changed and began to leave. Her hand hesitated on the door's control pad. Despair spread across her features. 'Can I really go on like this?'

Excruciatingly slowly, a tiny, sad smile appeared on Keala's face. She remembered one more lesson. It was eight years ago, and she had almost forgotten it.

. . .

Keala had just spent a hard day training, with very little success. She was tired, sore, hungry, and despondent. Her own despair had overcome her and she was curled up, sobbing, in an isolated corner of the Room of a Thousand Fountains. It was there that Master Tahl, who had recently lost her sight on a mission, found her.

"What's the matter, child?" Reluctantly at first and still weeping, Keala shamefully told the Jedi Master everything. She told her about her anger and frustration at herself for not being able to do anything right. She describe episode after episode of attempt and failure. Finally, she told the Jedi Master about her fear of never being good enough to be a padawan learner.

Master Tahl listen solemnly as the young girl, unloaded her grief, doubt, fears, and dreams. When Keala had finished, the great master sat thoughtfully for a moment and then spoke to the child before continuing on her way.

"The lesson you are trying to understand is one that even some of the wisest Jedi struggle with. It is one that I have been trying to learn ever since I lost my sight. Most of us can never fully understand it. We must only trust that it is true. The lesson is this: Each of us serves in our own way. We all have a purpose. Even if it is too complex for us to understand today, if we persevere, it may be revealed to us tomorrow as something greater than we imagine. We'll never know if we don't try."

. . .

Returning to the present, but keeping the memory close to her heart, Keala opened the door.

I hope you enjoyed Keala's story. Thank you for taking the time to read it. Please read and review. Hopefully, there will be another Tale for this collection soon! May the Force be with you!

J.W.