SW universe (c) Geroge Lucas. I only borrowed Jocasta for a while.


The dark is generous, and it is patient,

and it always wins-

but in the heart of its strength lies weakness:

one lone candle is enough to hold it back.

(Love is more than a candle.

Love can ignite the stars.)

Matthew Stower, The Revenge of the Sith



Sometimes in the evening, when she is alone in the Archives, Jocasta lights a candle. A few shelves away the lights are still on, but she always turns off the closest ones. In the dark, the candlelight is bright and warm. Strong. It discarces the dark, but does not strike, does not push it away hardly, does not destroy. It shoves the dark aside, carefully, gently. As if it was speaking – softly, but with power – "Become the light!"

Jocasta likes the soft light of the candle. Although she is not aware of the fact, it makes her look younger. In the mysterious, magical chiaroscuro her face smoothens, and her white hair glimmer with gold.

In the night, the Archives are infinitely silent. But Jocasta loves silence. They have spent so many hours together. The have seen so much.

Now Jocasta is looking at the candlelight. And beyond the candle, into the dark.

Jocasta is not afraid of the dark. Once she was, and fear led to anger. Anger slowly turned into grief. Sometimes, it even verged on compassion. And – all the time – there was pain.

Some could lose themselves in the fire of fighting, some in the subtleties of politics. Jocasta had only her Archives, and the silence. In the silence, you are alone with your own heart. With your thoughts. With everything you have been through. In the silence, you can reconcile yourself with your fate, like with an old friend, and find yourself again. And, in finding yourself – you can find peace.

Jocasta rarely looks at the outlines of the bronze bust, visible in the shadows. She does not like this sculpture. The metal is cold. But the memories are warm, like the candlelight. Jocasta loves her memories.

In the darkness the sculpted face looks almost as if it was alive. But Jocasta does not have to pretend. The memories are real. And close, as is silence.

Silence. Silence is words that, once spoken, would lose their meaning forever. Words that are the essence of life. Words that are always with the one to whom they were not spoken.

Jocasta is not afraid of the dark. She does no longer feel grief or pain. Only, sometimes, she wishes she could be like a candlelight – reach out and embrace the dark. And discover that when she touches the dark, deep inside it there is light.

She would probably never know if the light is really there, but she believes. She believes that the light, even though hidden somewhere in the shadowed depths, is there, just waiting for the candle. That is why she still comes down there, where she sits in silence and watches the candlelight.

What does exist in mind, is real. Jocasta believes in that light with all her heart. Because, if she keeps believing, the light will be real.