Journey Beyond Darkness
PROLOGUE
The two lightsabers clashed, parrying the blows coming from their bearers. Both blades were blue. With a huge effort and calling upon the Force, Obi-wan managed to divert the blade swung by his former apprentice. Anakin took a step backwards but didn't lower his sword. His azure eyes shone dangerously as he radiated anger and dark energy. His glare burnt into Obi-Wan's heart dissolving any feeling that was left for the young man, leaving the Jedi Knight calm and disappointed before the would-be Sith.
Anakin Skywalker was not a Sith yet. He acted more on impulse and anger every day, but he hadn't taken the last step – yet. Emotions were still strong inside him, more contrary and powerful than ever: anger and frustration, hope and despair, kindness, tenderness, … love. A Jedi shall not know such emotions, but he had never been an ordinary Jedi. He started his training at the age of nine, when all other children were taken into the Order before turning two. As a matter of fact, he wasn't a Jedi any more. He had been kicked out when the Council found out about his marriage to Senator Padme Amidala of the Naboo.
Obi-Wan swung his weapon only to be parried again. He wasn't afraid he might lose. Jedi are not afraid and he was a Jedi. He felt no fear, no hesitation, no anger and no remorse as he attacked the young man, lashing mercilessly at his hands, shoulders – anywhere he could register a blow. These weren't the most fair tactics, but then again, this wasn't an exercise, but a fight against a Sith. And a Sith must be destroyed.
Anakin was startled at the sudden increase in his opponent's power, his Force awareness. He missed a beat, and although not wounded, was pushed a step backwards. Beneath them, the ground rumbled but none of the two fighters noticed the tremors that passed through the very rocks they were standing on. Several feet below the ground cracked and more lava leaked out, joining the ht rivulets that had slithered through this wasteland forever.
Anger surged just as hot inside Anakin. How could his former master push him back? HIM? The Chosen One? But, of course, Obi-Wan must feel it is his duty to destroy the monster before him. And Obi-Wan has never known a more powerful motivation than duty. Duty was what The Code required, what The Council commanded. Duty was unquestionably right. 'He has no doubts' thought Anakin. 'I've always felt like my soul was being ripped in two. I spent my years as a Padawan thinking twice about every action, wandering whether to listen to what Obi-Wan would say or to my heart. But no! Master Obi-Wan never had any doubts, never had any difficulty dealing with what was required of him. No, the perfect example of what the Order wants it's students to be never felt like dozing off in the middle of a lecture, never felt like flying a speeder upside down out of curiosity, never felt the excitement of a chase. And he most definitely didn't wake up in the middle of the night feeling alone and missing his mother so much it hurts.'
And so it was, drove by the certainty that he was doing the right thing and that there was no other way, Obi-Wan began pushing the young man towards the edge of the cliff. Anakin was angry, but his anger was not pure, it was mixed with so many emotions that it didn't enhance his fighting skills very much (sounds familiar? ROTJ). He took another step backwards, this time, sending some stones tumbling down. He turned from the edge and went for his opponent's midsection. Obi-Wan, however, jumped clear and, while Anakin was moving away from the pit, caught his back undefended and brought his lightsaber down in an arch. The young man was fast and turned away just in time to avoid the fatal blow and have just his left shoulder grazed. In the second that took for the pain to register Obi-Wan slashed at his hand – his right prosthetic hand, and cut it off. It may not have been flesh, but it hurt. But, unlike other Jedi and unlike Obi-Wan himself when wounded by Count Dooku, Anakin did not fall to his knees, or back away. In one fluid motion he called his lightsaber to his left hand and dove again for his old master. Obi-Wan parried and started circling his opponent.
Two peaks to the left, a volcano erupted, this time noticed by both. The situation was getting dangerous. 'This has to end ' Obi-Wan thought. 'If I have to die trying, Anakin will not walk away from this'. He went for the young man's left arm but Anakin sidestepped his master and in that moment Obi-Wan took the opportunity to kick him viciously in the side, sending him closer to the ridge. He saw the ridge. He knew it was there, and, in an act that he would forever consider the right thing to do, took advantage of Anakin's loss of balance as he extended his hand and Force pushed the young man into the bottomless pit full of fiery red liquid.
*
Anakin fell, and fell, no sound coming from him as he hit two landings too weak to support his weight but which bruised his back and broke a few ribs.
And then, … he stopped. Or rather splashed as his body submerged in the hot substance. His fear of passing out burnt in an instant as every millimeter of his body was assaulted by burning needles that burned away the flesh making their was to the muscles. He managed to crawl out of the river of lava, onto a small bank. It was then that noxious chemicals entered his nostrils only to render him helpless as they burned away at his lungs.
He must have lain there for hours, too weak to crawl away, too week to regain consciousness, but his mind and body were painfully active. He tried to ignore the pain coming from his side, from his tight and probably broken ankle, to fight away the feeling from his burnt and wounded shoulder, and the feeling of blood clogging on his face. But most of all he tried to breathe.
During the first hour his lungs were severely damaged and his broken ribs only made each breath worse. He couldn't do it anymore. He couldn't draw another breath. 'One more, just one more. Keep breathing Skywalker! You can't quit' Tears started flowing from his eyes but he wasn't aware of them. All he could feel was an increasing burning in his chest. With every breath he sunk deeper in the night that enveloped his senses, not even the agony of staying alive, of feeling his alveoli being scorched, managing to keep him afloat.
'Padme' he whispered, and the pain returned tenfold, but this time he was determined to stay alive, to stay awake and to make each breath, never giving up.
*
Thousands light years away, on a desert world, a child awoke with a start. Two years old Luke Skywalker didn't call for his aunt Beru, or his uncle Owen although he found the room rather stuffy. He tried going outside only to find he was too tired to move, too tired to call for anyone, almost too tired to breathe. Luke tried to fight back the surge of panic he felt and keep calm, but breathing had become increasingly difficult in the last few seconds. It was as though his lungs were on fire. When his efforts became too much to bear, the noise attracted his aunt.
By the time they got him to the hospital in Ancorhead, Luke could take no more than three breaths per minute. Beru spent the rest of the night in the hospital watching her child sweat and cry as he fought alone for his life, under the eyes of bewildered medics and droids who couldn't find anything wrong with him. It was dawn when he finally fell into a normal breathing and cardiac rhythm. He was diagnosed with a severe breathing disorder, although all the test results came back negative, and nobody could explain the powerful ache he felt in his heart.