Hope
He had lived a long life.
He was content to die, he was truthfully confident to become one with the Force.
Countless generations of Jedi had passed before his eyes, both friend and foe, both pupil and colleague. Not once, not a single passing moment, in eight consecutive centuries of life, did he ever entertain the notion that he would live to see all of them die, all of them killed, murdered by their own brother - a fellow Jedi Knight.
The things that brought real pangs to his heart - besides the mass murders?
The loss of countless centuries of knowledge and treasure, gathered by the Jedi that succeeded him and proceeded him, in both life and youth.
What was left was now in the hands of their ancient enemy.
There was no greater insult that he could have suffered, not only as the leader of the Jedi Order, but quite simply as a scholar.
The Sith had no regard for the mysteries and knowledge of the past - so carefully and so bravely gathered by his colleagues over the years. The only thing that they were concerned about was how to attain, exercise, refine and ultimately keep power.
The thought of living a life like that brought a chill down his withered spine.
The Emperor, he knew - would not destroy the knowledge that he had seized from the temple. Regardless of his position, his power and his stereotypical shortsightedness - Palpatine was a scholar, like he was - and he would preserve it.
If only to keep it from falling into the rightful hands at least.
The former Grand Master of the Jedi Order hummed thoughtfully and tapped his cane against the log on which he sat.
He could feel the Skywalker Boy approaching the planet.
The boy was shining beacon of hope, change - and ultimately reckoning.
In him, Yoda saw the future - he saw a future where Emperor Palpatine was ended, and where Darth Vader was made to answer for the crimes that he had committed.
In the boy, he saw a future where the Jedi were strong again.
In the boy, he saw a future where the mistakes of the past, the shortsightedness, and the decadence were not repeated.
In the boy he saw peace.
He had lived to see the fall of one Sith Empire, and several other attempted ones.
He did not believe that he would live to see the fall of this one.
But he knew it would happen.
Hope was eternal.