Wordlessly, Kyra called to the spirit again, requesting she come to speak with her descendant. She saw one of the pale strands shimmer briefly, as if it had awakened from a deep sleep. Then Kyra turned her sight outward, as the spirit of Windwalker Dahl sparkled into view.
Greetings, Kyranon Jinn, Windwalker. The spirit's voice was low and mellow, like velvet. She was a tall woman of about forty, her hair a reddish color that swirled about her as if blown by an unseen wind. She wore a strange tunic and pants of some silvery color, the sleeves nearly touching the ground, shaped like the wings of a bird. At her belt was a blaster and lightsaber. Her eyes glowed an uncanny blue.
Kyra started to bow before her, for the spirit Windwalker radiated an aura of power like none she had ever sensed before. It was stronger than even her own, a power so pure it sent shivers through her.
Windwalker Dahl held up a hand. Do no homage before me, little sister. In life I was no more than you, a seeker of truth and protector of the Light. That I am one with the Force makes no difference to who I was. She eyed Wraith, who spread his wings and bowed. Your bondmate does you honor, Master of the Skies. Now, what would you have of me, child? I have been asleep many many years before you called me.
"I'm sorry, I only woke you so I could practice talking to spirits." Kyra apologized.
The Windwalker ghost shook her head. Please, don't apologize. I am glad you called me, I was half out of my mind with boredom. We don't truly sleep, you see only doze slightly. My only contact with the world now has been through dreams, and they are fragments at best. What has been going on in the world, child. Sense a great disturbance in the Force. The pattern shifts.
"The Sith are rising," Kyra told her, explaining how she had fought two of them and telling her how some of the Jedi doubted that their old enemies even existed, despite her words and battle on Tenendryn.
They do not see clearly. For all their Force-sensitivity, they are blind to the truth. The Sith are hidden, but as a shadow is hidden by sunlight. Look another way and you can see the darkness coiling, waiting its proper time to emerge. But first you must be willing to see. Our brethren of the Light see part of the shadow, but not the grand design. Not yet. And by then it will be too late. The Jedi will realize this, to their sorrow. That has always been their greatest failing. They see in glimpses, and believe that is the whole picture. They see their own bright strength and think they are powerful enough to defeat any apprentice foolish enough to turn to the Dark Side.
"But the one I fought was not an apprentice, but a master." Kyra pointed out. "And there are more like him, I think."
You are right, little sister. There are many more Sith, their shadow increases even here in the astral. Like a great black stain, it smothers the land, killing what remains of hope and light. And there are Sith Lords, masters of masters, who have long awaited their chance to seize the power they believe is theirs. They waited until their Jedi brethren were complacent, until they had forgotten such as they ever existed. Now they will strike, and the Light shall be drowned in the pool of Darkness. Beware, Windwalker! The Dark rises again. The Light falters. If the Shadow slays the Hawk, it will begin the reign of Night. The Jedi's chosen has been born, but Shadow wings hover over him, seeking his fragile soul. Protect that one, Windwalker, for he is the one foretold, the Champion of Light and Darkness.
"I don't understand. How can someone be the Champion of Light and Dark? And how can I protect someone if I don't know who he is?"
You will know when it is time. And he is like you, with the potential to do both good and evil, but unlike you he has no hawk to guide him. You must be his conscience, little Kyranon. Else he will fall and doom the galaxy to a time of darkness. This I have seen. But for now, you must guard the Hawk, for the Shadow seeks to slay it, for they have long been enemies. Be wary, the Shadow walks unseen. Trust in your heart. And trust the Force. Farewell for now, Kyranon. May the Force be with you.
"Wait!" Kyra called. "What do you mean? You're speaking in riddles!"
But the spirit was gone, fading back into the astral ether from which she had come.
A frustrated Kyranon sat back against the tree with a sigh. "I don't understand, Wraith. What did she mean, guard the Hawk? Your people? But they're safe on Salishar. And how can I protect someone I don't know? Gods in a circle, but I hate prophecy! Why can't she just tell me straight out, instead of speaking in riddles like a two-bit fortune-teller?"
The hawk flew down to alight on her shoulder, rubbing his head against her cheek in a gentle caress. "Perhaps because you must learn to see on your own, young one. The future is never constant. All cannot be known, but must be learned. You must be free to choose your own path, for only then will you understand. She warns, she does not instruct, for to do so would be to upset the Balance."
"You're almost as bad as she is, Wraith!" Kyra growled.
"Sorry. But you must figure this out on your own." The vorcel hawk trilled, not at all remorseful. "You are a Windwalker, and that is part of your task."
"Oh, that's just wonderful. Now I not only have to protect the Jedi from the Sith, and some Hawk thing, now I have to unravel prophecy as well. Is there anything else you'd like to add to that list, Chosen? Like saving the whole damn galaxy before lunch maybe?"
"Nothing is ever easy." Wraith said. "Have faith, wind-sister. The gods do not give you more than you can handle."
"I suppose not." The Windwalker sighed. "And if Mother were here, she'd give me a good smack and tell me to quit whining and do something about it." Kyra smiled wryly. "Maybe the Jedi have something in their archives that I can read. Is it permitted for me to speak of this prophecy to other people, O Wise Mentor?"
Wraith's blue-violet eyes whirled in amusement. "It is. Though you may not reveal where you heard it. The speaking with the dead is a well-guarded secret, only Windwalkers may know of it."
"I won't tell anyone. No one would believe me anyway." Kyra laughed. "If I didn't just have a conversation with her, I wouldn't believe it either." She yawned. "That took more out of me than I realized. I think I'll just lie here a minute and get my strength back."
The summoning and the vigorous sparring match she had engaged in with Qui-Gon had tired her more than she wanted to admit, and before she could stop herself, her eyes had closed. In a matter of minutes, Kyra had fallen asleep, her head resting against the trunk of the larch tree. Wraith fluffed his feathers and stood guard over her, preening himself softly. Sleep well, wind-sister. You're going to need it.
* * * * * *
She awoke some two hours later to her father's hand on her shoulder. "Kyra. Wake up."
"Huh?" she muttered, blinking sleepy blue eyes. "I fell asleep, didn't I? That wasn't supposed to happen." She scowled crossly.
Qui-Gon smiled. "I guess I tired you out more than I thought. But it's nearly time for your lessons with Master Andrilas." He reminded her, for her class with the master healer was one of the first she had that day.
"Thanks." She rose to her feet in a bound, brushing herself off. "I must be getting soft. Three months ago, I'd never have fallen asleep after a spar like that."
"But three months ago you weren't using the Force." Qui-Gon reminded. "That's as tiring as any physical activity, believe me."
"Your father is right." Wraith added. "What I just taught you is no novice exercise. I expected you to sleep afterwards. Even the Force demands a price."
"And even Windwalkers are mortal." Kyra quoted.
"Count yourself lucky that you slept." The Jedi Master informed her. "For after this afternoon, you won't be getting much of it, I can tell you."
"Why?"
"Because today your cousin Taryn is coming back here. And unless a miracle has occurred, he's still the same troublemaker he was when he left. Which means he'll have the whole temple turned upside down five minutes after he gets off the transport, may all the gods listen!"
"I think I'm going on vacation back to Salishar." Kyra began.
"Oh no you don't!" Qui-Gon waved a stern finger at her. "I'm counting on you to help me keep him in line. Maybe he'll listen to you better than he does me."
Kyra groaned. But she couldn't refuse her father's request. I think I spoke too soon. Now I not only have a prophecy to unravel and the Hawk to guard, I have a spoiled rich brat to deal with as well. I hope Wraith was right. That the gods truly don't give us more than we can handle. Or else they've got a damn wicked sense of humor.
"Got to run, else I'll be late." Kyra called, summoning a wind to her. "Don't worry, Father. I'll watch the little demon like a hawk, I promise." And if he tries any of his tricks with me, I'll give him a good swat. Probably just what he needs anyway. Then she flew back toward her rooms on the eastern end of the Temple pyramid, going to change before her healing lesson with Master Andrilas.
* * * * * *
Taryn Jinn was bored. He had been confined to the ship, Fire Dragon, for nearly the entire voyage back to Coruscant, ever since that incident on Antares with that stupid merchant's swoop bike. The boy snorted, thrusting a lock of dark hair out of his eyes, nearly biting his nails in his impatience to be free of the stifling confines of the trade ship, despite the size of the observation deck. But he had grown tired of seeing the sparkling nebulas and comets, asteroids and stars outside the plasti-steel window. His restless nature made him long to be outside, flying, racing, doing anything other than sitting still.
How was I to know that dumb Corellian reprogrammed the controls when I offered to test drive it? The boy thought resentfully. He never even warned me. How was I to know when I pushed the throttle it was going to take off like a Gundar with a blaster bolt stuck up its tail? Or that floating transport of juma fruit would just happen to be coming around the corner that moment? The boy winced, recalling with crystal clear clarity the way he had slammed into the transport, making the sky rain with fruit juice and fruit peels. It had seemed funny at the time, but that was before the irate merchant of the swoop had tried to blame Taryn for the whole thing, and the pilot of the transport had demanded he pay for the damaged fruit.
Taryn sighed. And of course, some idiot saw the whole thing and reported it to Uncle Mellin. Who was mad enough to spit fire, and who wouldn't even let me explain what really happened. It's not fair! Why is it always my fault every time something bad happens? That was an accident, I didn't mean to crash the swoop. And I paid for all the fruit myself. And I bought the swoop too. The boy thought defiantly. Never mind that Mellin had forbidden him to have one of the dangerous racing vehicles. After the crash, the Corellian had insisted Taryn take the damaged racer.
Which suited Taryn just fine. Repairing the sleek racing bike had given him something to do while he was confined to the ship for the rest of the two weeks it had taken to get to Coruscant. And Mellin, after his initial tirade about recklessness and irresponsibility, had ignored him, much to Taryn's relief. It had always been easier when adults left him alone. The way his parents had done.
They had never cared what he did, so long as he kept his nose out of the papers and not brought any shame down on their political careers. Image, as Taryn knew very well, was life to a political official. A politician could do whatever he liked in private, but in public he had to be above reproach. That had been one of the few lessons Taryn had learned from his father, the late governor Sarin. Only now Taryn was no longer in the public eye, so to speak. So it didn't matter if he got in trouble, no one would care.
Except to yell at me once in awhile. But even that's better than being ignored. And who wants to follow all those boring rules anyway? It's more fun not to. Besides, no one ever notices when I do anything good anyway. Mom and Dad never gave a damn when I aced my classes, all I ever heard was that's nice, boy, now go away, I have to finish this proposal. Not even the time I received the Medal of Achievement for my speeder model. I was the best student in the whole school, out of almost a thousand kids. And what did I get for it? A pat on the head from Mom and isn't that nice, dear, now I have to run along to the meeting with Senator Organa and Trade Master Vellin. She didn't even look at it, not that she would have understood it anyway.
The boy sighed, sending the unwelcome memories back to sleep. There was no point in dwelling on the past. His parents had always been like that. Always too wrapped up in their political careers to notice their son. Eventually Taryn had stopped trying. And now they were dead, and he no longer had to worry about gaining their approval ever again. And look what being smart and following the rules got me. Not a damn thing!
But that didn't matter. He was done with following rules. Now he would do whatever he wanted, and to hell with all of them. He had no one but himself to depend on. No one else cared. Not even his uncles.
Although, he thought wistfully, his Uncle Qui-Gon might have cared once. Before he had ruined his chances with the Jedi Master by getting involved in that duel. After that, Taryn knew it was a lost cause to make the famous warrior see him as anything except a troublemaker. And once he had accepted it, it was easier to simply continue his streak of mischievous behavior. That was what everyone expected, after all.
Taryn peered out the window for the hundredth time. He prayed the ship would dock soon, so he could retrieve his swoop and practice with it around the Temple gardens. Though he knew before he could do that, he'd have to endure yet another lecture from his Jedi uncle.
But that was nothing new. Qui-Gon was always scolding him about something. Sometimes, it almost seemed that the Jedi Master actually cared about what happened to him. That time he had nearly gotten himself killed in that duel, Qui-Gon had hovered over him like a mother hen for days, only waiting until he was well to yell at him. He had almost made the rebellious boy feel guilty for that incident.
That, of course, had been before Qui-Gon had realized what every other adult knew.
That Taryn was an irredeemable brat, a born troublemaker, who would never amount to anything.
Still, the boy thought with a grin, he looked forward to going back to the Temple. At least it was interesting there, and the Jedi apprentices were fun to tease, and there was plenty of time to fly his swoop and think of new ways to annoy Qui-Gon.
The Jedi Master was so controlled that Taryn wondered what he would have to do to see that control crack. For even when he was scolding the boy, Taryn sensed he was more exasperated and disappointed than angry. In fact, he had never heard Qui-Gon raise his voice.
It had become Taryn's new goal to try and irritate the Jedi Master past bearing. Because it was a challenge. And above all things, Taryn Jinn loved a challenge.
Well, how did you like that? Please review and let me know!