This is from Yoda's POV about an original character of mine leaving the Order. Lucas owns everything but my char, but you can already guess that. :)
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Immortality isn't what it seems. There is always pain, and death is your best friend. Do not ask for something that you will come to hate. Who wants to live forever? Especially when you can regret? Not I.
In the Eyes of An Immortal
You enter, and look around, pain radiating from every part of you. Its not physical pain, no, nor mental pain. Its spiritual pain, and it's the type of pain only few bear. Only few, and you are one of those.
I am old, older than many of my own race, but you? You're young to your race, and old to this galaxy. You've seen, you've understood, and you have felt it all so many times. You see the blood on your hands long after you wash it away. You see the ghost of friends long gone in your very mind, and know that you shall go on, alone in this galaxy, as there are few others that live forever. It is a curse to live so long, past so many. I can understand, but unlike you, I am going to die someday. But you shall live on, and on, forever until you either end it yourself, or let the enemy take your life from you. Then, the galaxy will lose knowledge from beyond the years, but you shall have peace. Force help you, soul sufferer.
You look to the window, to the stars. The stars that you came from so long ago and the stars that you are returning to. I can read it in your eyes; you want to leave, to end this self-exile. To leave the death of mortals behind, and to try to find some peace out there, as there is none here for you.
"Giving up on us, are you?" I ask, hiding my thoughts.
"No, Master Yoda, I just gave up on myself. I am leaving the Jedi, and perhaps someday I shall find myself and return," you say, and I know you know it's a lie. You won't return because you can not return.
"Your choice it is. A great loss you will be," I say, trying to give you that last opening.
"I doubt that. The future is dark, Yoda. I should leave while I still have the will," you whisper, and your hand moves to your belt.
That silver cylinder has never left your side in all these years, and now it does. Your hand is trembling as you slowly hand it to me.
"Fare thee well, dear Yoda. I shall not see thee again. Give this to Obi-wan, and tell him it is for the best. Tell him that I died, or something," you say, as you release it to my clawed grasp.
Why do you look older and younger at the same time in this moment that you hand me this? Is it because you are leaving a piece of what you killed with? Ageless, that is what you are, and my heart aches at the sight of you. But to what you said.
"Believe it he will not," I say, I wish to keep that door opened to you.
"In time, he will, in time. Make sure this doesn't go on record. Erase me from them, make it as if I have never existed," you say, and the pain doubles in your eyes.
"Qui-gon would not understand, if alive he was," I say.
Please turn back from this, turn back, please, please turn back. For once you leave, its finished, and there will be no return. But you have done this before. Is it more painful each time? He loved you more then you ever knew, could you truly leave his memory behind?
That same sad, pained smile, plays across your face as it has before. Another death in that long list of friends, isn't he? He wanted to be more to you, desperately. But you turned away. That was not your fault. You knew he was mortal, and you knew it could not be. I saw how it was when he turned finally to Tahl, it killed something within you.
"Why do you think I waited till his death?" you ask, and a tear glistens in your eyes.
You knew, you knew how much he loved you. Many a mortal has been tempted by you, but none like he. And it is his death that pains you the most, and comforts you more. He is at peace, a peace you shall never know.
"The Force be with you it shall," I say, and I close that door, you won't take it, and I can no longer offer it.
"Farewell, wise one. Think of me no longer, and make it as I have not existed," you say, and your footsteps echo as you walk away.
How can you not exist, sufferer? How can you not exist when you have touched so many lives? Farewell, Immortal. May the peace you seek come to you, someday.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Immortality isn't what it seems. There is always pain, and death is your best friend. Do not ask for something that you will come to hate. Who wants to live forever? Especially when you can regret? Not I.
In the Eyes of An Immortal
You enter, and look around, pain radiating from every part of you. Its not physical pain, no, nor mental pain. Its spiritual pain, and it's the type of pain only few bear. Only few, and you are one of those.
I am old, older than many of my own race, but you? You're young to your race, and old to this galaxy. You've seen, you've understood, and you have felt it all so many times. You see the blood on your hands long after you wash it away. You see the ghost of friends long gone in your very mind, and know that you shall go on, alone in this galaxy, as there are few others that live forever. It is a curse to live so long, past so many. I can understand, but unlike you, I am going to die someday. But you shall live on, and on, forever until you either end it yourself, or let the enemy take your life from you. Then, the galaxy will lose knowledge from beyond the years, but you shall have peace. Force help you, soul sufferer.
You look to the window, to the stars. The stars that you came from so long ago and the stars that you are returning to. I can read it in your eyes; you want to leave, to end this self-exile. To leave the death of mortals behind, and to try to find some peace out there, as there is none here for you.
"Giving up on us, are you?" I ask, hiding my thoughts.
"No, Master Yoda, I just gave up on myself. I am leaving the Jedi, and perhaps someday I shall find myself and return," you say, and I know you know it's a lie. You won't return because you can not return.
"Your choice it is. A great loss you will be," I say, trying to give you that last opening.
"I doubt that. The future is dark, Yoda. I should leave while I still have the will," you whisper, and your hand moves to your belt.
That silver cylinder has never left your side in all these years, and now it does. Your hand is trembling as you slowly hand it to me.
"Fare thee well, dear Yoda. I shall not see thee again. Give this to Obi-wan, and tell him it is for the best. Tell him that I died, or something," you say, as you release it to my clawed grasp.
Why do you look older and younger at the same time in this moment that you hand me this? Is it because you are leaving a piece of what you killed with? Ageless, that is what you are, and my heart aches at the sight of you. But to what you said.
"Believe it he will not," I say, I wish to keep that door opened to you.
"In time, he will, in time. Make sure this doesn't go on record. Erase me from them, make it as if I have never existed," you say, and the pain doubles in your eyes.
"Qui-gon would not understand, if alive he was," I say.
Please turn back from this, turn back, please, please turn back. For once you leave, its finished, and there will be no return. But you have done this before. Is it more painful each time? He loved you more then you ever knew, could you truly leave his memory behind?
That same sad, pained smile, plays across your face as it has before. Another death in that long list of friends, isn't he? He wanted to be more to you, desperately. But you turned away. That was not your fault. You knew he was mortal, and you knew it could not be. I saw how it was when he turned finally to Tahl, it killed something within you.
"Why do you think I waited till his death?" you ask, and a tear glistens in your eyes.
You knew, you knew how much he loved you. Many a mortal has been tempted by you, but none like he. And it is his death that pains you the most, and comforts you more. He is at peace, a peace you shall never know.
"The Force be with you it shall," I say, and I close that door, you won't take it, and I can no longer offer it.
"Farewell, wise one. Think of me no longer, and make it as I have not existed," you say, and your footsteps echo as you walk away.
How can you not exist, sufferer? How can you not exist when you have touched so many lives? Farewell, Immortal. May the peace you seek come to you, someday.