"Will you tell us a story?" Young Caven sat at his grandmothers feet, gazing up to her kind, wrinkled face. Her hair, the color of the whitest snow, was bunched together at the top of her head; the work of Caven's little sister. Lannah loved playing with her grandmother's hair. It was like playing with a doll, she had once said, because Grandmother kept so still.
Caven sighed inwardly. Even though he was only thirteen years old, he knew his Grandmother was very old and that soon she would sleep forever. She never showed it but she was in pain. Caven's father had so far not felt the need to elaborate but when listening to the grown-ups talk, he caught a few snippets of conversation. Grandmother was very ill.
Caven's heart suddenly felt heavier.
"But you've heard most of my stories already." The old woman said with a smile on her face. Caven knew from holopictures that she had been a beautiful woman in her younger days. Long, wavy dark hair had surrounded her round face and the darkest eyes shone with delight at life. His father had once said that Grandmothers' smile could knock anyone off their feet.
Caven shrugged, "I like listening to all the adventures you've been on."
Lannah, sitting beside Caven on the floor, laughed, "You shouldn't believe everything, Caven. I'm sure Grandmother's made up a few of her stories."
The old woman laughed silently, as she stretched her tired and swollen legs towards the flickering flames within the fireplace.
The children came to visit her often. She had chosen a life at the outskirts of the large city, alone in a small stone house within the darkness of the woods. Here she could reach out to life without technologies in her way.
"On the contrary, Lannah my dear. What I've told you so far has been the truth."
Lannah smiled, "Isn't there at least one story we haven't heard yet?"
The old woman sighed and leaned back in her weathered chair. It was her favorite piece of furniture; a large handcrafted wooden chair, with light brown flowered padding, which had belonged to her Grandmother before her.
A long sigh escaped her throat as she closed her eyes. The flames within the fireplace crackled and the colors reflected off her pale skin. Caven was again reminded at how old his Grandmother really was. When she finally opened her eyes again, Caven saw something there he hadn't seen before.
Excitement? Glee? He couldn't quite pinpoint it.
"There is one story I haven't told you yet. I've been saving it up for the end."
Neither of the children said a word. They watched their Grandmother in silent fascination as she continued talking in a hushed voice, "I've told you about the Jedi of old. They were different than the Jedi we know today." She nodded to herself and suddenly a wide smile spread across her face, "There were a few Jedi who stood out. One in particular."
Caven was astounded when he heard his Grandmother chuckle, "We met under the strangest of circumstances."
"Is this story about you then?" Lannah asked, suddenly very interested.
Her Grandmother nodded, "Yes. And it's a story I've told no one before." She sighed, "I've written it down so many times, hoping to never forget. To never forget the one Jedi who changed my life."
She sat up straight and leaned forward, first patting Lannah's dark hair and then softly touching Caven's cheek, "This all happened so many years ago, it's almost only a dream." She smiled a smile belonging to the young woman Caven knew from the holopictures.
She began her story, "Once upon a time in a galaxy far, far away…"