Chapter Two

A cloud of sand and dust rose up and enveloped the two men as they fought, their shoulder armor gleaming brightly in the hot twin suns over Tembro, where Qui-Gon had been born.

He had purchased his Soturi for only twenty sentin and had brought him to his modest house. Not exactly a home. He hadn't visited it in over a year. Qui-Gon had always considered Avi-Kao his home. Upea was his destiny and the one who would deliver him was standing close by.

He had taken quite a ribbing when he'd completed his purchase, not only from Sol, but from most of the other buyers who were present at the auction. They had called Obi-Wan a runt, and wondered if Qui-Gon was allowing his overwhelming compassion to overrule his common sense.

Qui-Gon knew better. He had felt the pull inside him, as if an invisible hand was leading him directly to the young man. Obi-Wan was the one who was going to lead him back to the promised land. He just knew it. Although, at the moment, he wasn't showing much potential.

"Keep your stance more narrow, and stop dancing around so much," he criticized the young man.

"Yes, Master," Obi-Wan replied, immediately adjusting his sandaled feet, and bringing forth the wooden weapon; a sword just about the length of his forearm, not the heavy, longer ones favored by some fighters.

"Swords are for cutting an opponent and can cause a lot of damage in the right hands. Precise slashes can be made in a variety of places, but there are certain areas which will cause the most harm. Across the lower abdomen like this," Qui-Gon demonstrated, pretending to swipe across Obi-Wan's belly. "A deep enough wound will spill the bowels. A cut at the neck, in this manner," the practice weapon was sliced diagonally across the young man's throat, "injures a vital artery, as will a deep slice across the inner thigh. Your opponent will bleed to death fairly quickly. Don't forget the back of the ankles or knees. Either certainly takes the fight out of a man. It doesn't take a lot of power to deliver these injuries, just agility and speed. Now, strike."

Obi-Wan did as he was told, and the swings were executed as demonstrated, but there was still quite a bit lacking in his technique. Qui-Gon easily blocked every attempt the young man made to try and penetrate his defenses, effectively backing him up toward the wall of his house.

With a series of precision strokes in diagonal and horiztontal directions, Qui-Gon had managed to completely disarm the young man, sending his practice sword flying though the air, and causing Obi-Wan's head to hang in disappointment.

If it weren't for the confidence in his insights, Qui-Gon would think he'd made a mistake, that all those who teased him after the auction had been right. There were times in his life when he'd allowed distractions to interfere with his perceptions, but not this time. There was something else going on which was inhibiting Obi-Wan's concentration, but he didn't know how to ask. He was pleased to discover he didn't have to.

"Why me?"

The question was quietly spoken, and were the first words the young man had spoken to him. There had been no introduction after the auction, no conversation during the four hour ride to the village. Obi-Wan had been pensive and quiet, seeming to take in everything around him, as if were memorizing each and every detail.

Qui-Gon walked over and picked up the young man's weapon before answering, tossing it back to him. Obi-Wan hadn't yet looked up, but the sword ended up in his hand anyway. Qui-Gon's mouth lifted with a grin of confirmation his decision had been correct.

"I believe you have the potential to become a great fighter," he answered simply, though not convincing the young man, whose brow was raised in suspicion. "But you're holding back," he continued. "You need to trust your feelings while you fight."

"You really believe I can be Soturi?" Obi-Wan twirled the blade between his digits, revealing a level of comfort Qui-Gon suspected.

"I believe, with enough hard work, you can be anything you want to be, Obi-Wan. You have the ability to see things before they happen, don't you?"

As the weapon continued to twirl, a smile creased the young man's cheek, while at the same time, worry lined his brow.

"What is it?" Qui-Gon prompted. If there was something Obi-Wan needed to tell him, he needed to tell him now. There was a lot of work to be done and any concerns must be dealt with a timely fashion.

"You'll think I'm crazy," Obi-Wan admitted, the smile disappearing from his face.

"Tell me."

The absent-minded swordplay had ended, the young man's features sobering as he shared what was troubling him.

"As far back as I can remember, I've been able to do as you say. I see things happen. I hear voices. I experience visions. Some are more clear than others. Some visions are here and now, and some...I can't explain. They're like a fantastical dream, filled with strange people and animals I've never seen before."

Qui-Gon listened carefully. He'd initially thought he and this young man shared his gift of perception but frankly, he didn't understand a word he was saying. Did Obi-Wan just tell him he'd had these experiences as a child? How could a child deal with such a thing?

"Did you share this with your family?"

"I have no family." Obi-Wan explained. "My parents were killed by raiders when I was an infant. I was raised on a work farm by a kind man who educated me, but then he died, and I was sold into slavery. I didn't share my experiences until I was sixteen, with a girl I thought I was in love with, and was someone I could trust. But she told my Master, and he sent me to the Pit because he thought I was a lunatic."

It was a story told by hundreds, perhaps thousands living on Avi-Kao. Families destroyed, children sold as slaves, brain damaged innocents confined to imprisonment alongside criminals.

Although, in this case, Obi-Wan was not damaged. He was exceptional, and Qui-Gon planned on making him aware of just how much.

"I don't think you're crazy. I too have an uncommon insight. I've been aware of it since I was young, but didn't understand it until I was much older. Now, I use it to my advantage, just as you will."

Obi-Wan's brow turned skeptical, causing Qui-Gon to reassure him with a friendly, reassuring pat on his one bare shoulder.

"I will teach you. But first, let's continue to work on your swing."