The water fell from the high peaks down to the ground with infinite grace. The boy in the field frowned. It was breathtaking and beautiful. The valley was beyond imagination. Why then, did this place hold such sorrow? With each breath he took, the pitiful cries of the fallen souls reverberated in his ears. Yet the souls were not here. Nor had they ever been here in this place of beauty. No, it was only his imagination. A quiet breeze flowed softly around his lithe form, or perhaps it was his conscience surrounding him. What did it matter? The place was supposed to have eternal beauty and grace, not sorrow and suffering. Even then, what should be was not always what was.
The blonde boy knew that. He knew that his very presence in the field disturbed the fragile balance. His blue eyes glanced down at the green grass. It had not changed. In all the years since he had come here, nothing had changed; it was all exactly as he remembered down to the minute details. How had it survived all this time? All the destruction? The boy shook his head. He did not know.
He glanced to the north where the water cascaded down the mountains. In a few powerful bounds he was at the edge of a stream leading up the falling water. The boy remembered it well. Carefully, he crept to the water's side and was not surprised that it yielded no reflection. He had already known it would not, could not. No, his time as a reflection had long ended. Many years ago, in fact; perhaps more depending on when his death was defined.
His hand reached down to caress the water, but it left no mark, no ripple to prove its existence. The blonde sighed and turned away from the crystalline water. What had he expected? This world to forgive him and let him feel its touch? By heavens, no. He had wronged Naboo far too much to expect even that.
Why had he come here? The questioned resonated in his mind. What was the point of causing more suffering for himself and the others around him? Hadn't he already done enough to the galaxy, to this world? To her? It was she who had drawn him here. Of that he was now sure. But she was not here, he had killed her. He distinctly remembered doing so.
How could he ever forget a truth like that? Not even a million wonderful things could hide him from that memory. And even so, there were definitely not a million wonderful things in his life. Perhaps a million terrible things to uncover his most painful memory, but none to hide it. It was not the first time he had let himself dwell on the subject of his actions.
It happened far too many times than he would admit. The boy shook off the feeling of longing,_ what was done was done_, and started back across the green field that he come by. His gaze dropped downward to discover nothing but the green grass, no footprint in sight. Ruefully, he sighed. So this was the end. He had come here to find forgiveness, good memories. But now even those were gone, and his time had come.
His gaze traveled to the sky. How many other worlds had he destroyed? How many souls that he had killed would consider forgiving him? His blonde hair ruffled as he shook his head, disheartened. He was leaving empty handed, not that his hand would ever support the weight of any object. The boy was not looking for anything concrete, though.
She was not here. And even if she was, she would not forgive him. How could she? After all the destruction, after all the lies, after all the betrayals, after all the deaths. After her death. There was no room for forgiveness in his world, only eternal suffering. But one, and at least one, had forgiven him. Perhaps it was not yet time to give up hope.
There was still love. As there had always been. Since the day he had looked upon her face, there had been love. Even in the darkest hour, there had been love. And in the end, the boy supposed, that very love had saved him. But how then, could he explain all the deaths and all the destruction? They were most certainly acts of hate and anger, not love.
The population would scoff if they ever heard him mention love. In their minds, he knew no love. And perhaps they were right. Perhaps he only knew power and desire, but for some reason he held out hope for true natural love. Love that would live again even after years of burial. Love that would forgive him. Love that would lead her to him.
But why should he still hold onto hope? There was no force in the universe acting for him now, except perhaps the Force. And even now, it was mocking him now. Here he was standing in the field waiting and she was not coming. The blonde boy turned in a slow circle glancing about him.
No, she was not coming. There would be no forgiveness today, nor tomorrow, nor any other day in this eternal life of his. He had played the game of life and lost. The blue eyes flickered around his environment and finally closed.
The boy took a deep breath and prepared to fade away. Slowly he became less and less aware of his surroundings and his existence. Soon, his presence was barely identifiable from the living Force around him. With silent regret he prepared to take his last step.
I forgive you, Ani. A distant sound caressed his hearing. The boy blinked and struggled to open his eyes once again, but to no avail. He was gone. He would never know if she had truly come, nor if she had truly forgiven him.