A/N: From this point on we are quickly diverging from canon. I hope you enjoy :-) Thanks go to Jedi Master Misty Sman-Esay (what a long name) and JACarter for reviewing!

Chapter II: First Lesson

As long as Anakin could remember he had always heard voices. Sometimes even emotions that were not his own - but most of the time it was voices. Loud ones were singing and dancing to foreign songs, quiet ones were saying prayers in many different languages and every now and then he could hear the very first cry of a baby as it was born and listen to the last sigh of someone leaving this world. All of those strange noises sang and called to him and funny enough, he understood them – not on an individual basis but on a basic level. He knew instinctively that there was something bigger out there, something far more complex and at the same time far more simple than he could ever hope to understand. It was there with every breath he took; it penetrated his very being and yet it has never hurt him before. This feeling sometimes left him all warm and fuzzy, almost as if it was protecting him – enveloping him in its gentle embrace. Other times it was like a raging sand storm, needling him with loud shrill noises and yelling of no external source.

His mother didn't know about this because he couldn't put this feeling into words. This being outside and inside of him was without words and thus could not be explained. He always felt warm when it decided to share its memories with him, when he heard an especially beautiful song, or whenever he saw glimpses of different planets that existed in the galaxy. And since no other person knew about it there was nobody to question it because for Anakin this has always been what his life was like: It was beautifully chaotic and with structure at the same time.

Every now and then there were nights wherein he couldn't sleep; the voices were too loud, the laughter, the crying - the emotions were all just too much. On those nights, when these emotions would overwhelm him – and this happened only at night – he would sneak outside, knowing that the attempt to sleep was useless anyways. He would wonder to the edge of the slave district where Mos Espa ended and the desert began. There he would lay down on top of the cool sand, look up to the stars, and lose himself in those emotions, feelings, and impressions. Sometimes only for a few minutes, sometimes for hours on end until it was almost time for the twin-suns to rise and for him to return home.

Anakin didn't know if his mother knew about these nightly excursions but if she did, she never said anything against it.

Today was one such night. He had had to wait a little bit, until his Mom was asleep but then he had sneaked out. Avoiding the Southern part of Mos Espa he walked the path he would always walk and lay down on his usual spot.

Today's feelings were not calm or happy, no, they were of nervousness, of elation, and also a little bit of anxiety. As soon as he gave himself up he felt himself pulled and stretched far away from the sand ball that was Tatooine. He was pulled into a circular room. Outside there were many speeders flying on invisible roads through the evening sky. In the room there were about a dozen people – most of them sitting in a ring around two persons kneeling in the very center of the room. All of them wore very strange clothes that he has never seen before. The youngest of them all was almost shaking as the other person in the middle was cutting off the younger one's braid behind the back of its ear. The older one doing the cutting was moving his lips but Anakin could barely understand him. It was like he was in a protective bubble; he could see everything but hearing was very hard.

Nonetheless, the young boy listened closely to the strange words that were uttered in Basic:

"There is no emotion, there is peace. There is no ignorance, there is knowledge. There is no passion, there is serenity. There is no death, there is the Force."

Anakin didn't quite understand but before he could really think about it he was distracted by the youngest member of that club that had gathered in that strange room.

The young one was happy, however, he was also a little bit sad. Why Anakin couldn't understand. Was it even possible to feel those opposite emotions at the same time? But before he could ponder it anymore he was quickly pulled back towards his own body. It was a slight tearing feeling, a little bit uncomfortable but not overly so. As he could see things through his own eyes again he realized why he was pulled back into his own body:

Someone was watching him. No, it was something. A big black serpent lay curled at his feet and gazed down at him from its raised head. Its cold black eyes seemed to stare right through him but Anakin knew that there was no evil intent so he looked right back into its yellow eyes. Anakin almost felt hypnotized by the intensity of the serpent's gaze. The animal even swayed a little bit and after some time left his side and slithered away into the darkness of the night. He followed the reptile with his eyes as it moved down the moonlit path, already tinged a little bit with orange because one of the two suns already was beginning to rise.

The young boy shook his head a little bit. The serpent wasn't that strange if you thought about it. After all, who else could hear voices that aren't there and who else could leave their body behind to experience something completely different?

He slowly got up and made his way home. After an episode like this he always felt refreshed and full of energy. The young boy almost started skipping along the way but he didn't want to be seen since it was already dawning.

Anakin quickly crept back into his bed although he knew that sleep was hopeless in such an elated state of mind and body.

He couldn't wait for breakfast and the beginning of the day!

It was the Rojo Fever, a fatal illness for many, that had broken out in the slave district. They had all been evacuated and quarantined to an old abandoned hospital. There were only four healers for about a hundred slaves that all needed immediate treatment. But slaves were expendable after all since other, newer, healthier slaves could be easily bought again. Therefore no great amount of effort was put into treating a fatal illness. Watto certainly wouldn't cry for them – maybe he would be a little sad because he would lose Anakin since the young boy had proven to be a fantastic mechanic; even at the young age of seven.

He was staying at his mother's bedside. For days her health had been deteriorating. The once sun-burned woman was now pale beneath her tan, the ashen face sunken in with angry red spots all over her body. The high fever was slowly burner her out. Tubes were giving her just the bare minimum to survive just for the next second, minute, hour.

It was late at night and Anakin couldn't sleep. He was laying next to his mother, refusing to sleep in another bed when his mother was in so much pain. He hoped his closeness would help her in some way. He knew that he was only a small child and what could a small child accomplish when trained healers couldn't help? But he realized the seriousness of the situation. He feared that if he let her go for just one second she would leave him forever. And he knew with utter certainty that his mother would leave him if something didn't happen soon.

She would leave him like Kitster's father. He had left his son, too. Anakin had seen how his unmoving body had been put in a box and then had been lit along with other boxes of similar sizes. He hadn't understood it then. He had asked his mother why Kitster's father didn't resist being trapped in a box, why there were no screams coming from the inside of the box, and why he didn't come out of that box but his mother had only shaken her head. Only later he had realized that his spirit had left the physical body behind.

The first time he had finally understood the concept of someone dying was during one night, when he hadn't been able to sleep and he had gone to his favorite spot in the sand. But instead of seeing one singular scene like he usually did, he experienced something bigger - something of much more magnitude. It had felt as if the entire universe was breathing, in and out and in and out. He felt how different things started to exist; it was like the birth of those babies he sometimes witnessed, but this time he saw so many of them. And not only babies of different kinds of intelligent species but of all kinds of animals as well! Even seeds of plants participated in that great heartbeat of the world!

So many new lives! But then he also saw how those lives disappeared. Old ones, young ones. They all seemed to disappear. But they didn't simply vanish. They entered something else. Something beyond him, something greater. It felt as if they returned to the origin of which they had come and thus their transformed life was all around him. It was sad to see, even terrifying. That was the first time he had feared for his mother's death because he didn't want his mother to experience this. She had promised him not to die until she was old and wrinkly! His mother would never break a promise!

Silent tears ran down his cheeks as he found a fitful sleep full of nightmares. When he woke up the in the middle of the night he felt so lonely and abandoned and so he clung extra hard to his mother's arm.

In the morning his Mom woke up when one of the healers came in. He looked surprised as Anakin told him that he wasn't feeling bad at all. He took his hand and led him to his mother's side. He had just quickly left her to get the healer, he hadn't abandoned her, he told himself in his mind.

"Please, you have to help Mom!" he demanded fearfully.

"Young one, there is not much I can do for her. The only hope for her is for her fever to go down."

Anakin knew that those chances were really low since he had heard the stories about that fever before. He just knew that this advice wouldn't help his mother at all! He clutched her hand tightly to his chest but even the skin of her hands was so hot.

"We can only hope for a miracle," said the healer who was dressed in weird suite with a mask on his face. He patted his head, tried to be reassuring. Soon he left and the slave boy was alone again with his mother in that stuffy little room smelling of sickness and fever.

"Mama, please don't leave me..."

He had tried to be so strong – but it wasn't working. He broke down next to her bed, holding her weak hand to his face, crying because of all of his fears and uncertainties. Why couldn't anybody save her? Why, why, why?

He begged to that unknown thing that he had been seeing for years now.

"Please, please don't take my Mama away! She is a good person! She gives the best hugs! She loves me when nobody else does!"

But there was no answer. He stayed alone, with his mother's ragged breathing that grew weaker and weaker. In the evening his mother opened her eyes. She tried to smile at him but she failed. She was too weak to smile. His strong, fierce Mom who had always known how to sooth him, how to make the pain go away. And it broke something in his heart to know that she was too weak – that she couldn't protect him anymore. That soon he would be all alone.

Another bout of heavy sobs threatened to break out of his mouth but he would stay strong. If his mother couldn't be strong then he would be strong for the both of them.

"Ani…" she whispered. He moved closer to her and put his head on her chest so that she could speak into his ear. Her chest was falling unevenly as if it was a great struggle to keep going.

"I… love you. I wanted… to… see… you… grow…" She closed her eyes in exhaustion. Anakin looked up horrified as she took in a ragged breath, and then another and then… nothing. She was surrounded by that… power. It would take her away from him.

"No, NO! DON'T TAKE HER FROM ME! NO!", he screamed and yelled. He tore his head away from her chest and grabbed both of her hands and held them close to his body. But it was too late. He could feel something pass. Through the fearful haze he could feel how all of a sudden LOVE surrounded him – all that his mother ever felt for him. It passed right through him, warmed his heart that was threatening to burst because of all of these emotions. The power left him, but a small glimmer stayed with him. And he realized that that was his Mom. His Mom's love. She was right there; in and around him.

But this was not enough. He couldn't touch her anymore! She wouldn't be able to give him kisses and hugs anymore! Those wonderfully warm embraces that he had loved so much – they were gone. Nobody would ever be able to replace them!

"You took my Mommy away from me", Anakin cried brokenly. He fell forward to lay on top his mother and tried to make her arms go around his back in an embrace. But her arms fell off of him as soon as he didn't hold them anymore. He screamed in frustration and anger as wild sobs racked his little body.

So when he felt a small pulse of love going straight through his heart he suddenly felt an overwhelming anger. As tears still leaked down his cheeks he yelled: "This will never be a replacement for my real Mom! Never! Can you hear me?" And with that he locked that small tendril of love away – that shadow of love that seemed to mock him from afar. He threw it into the deepest recess of his mind, hopefully to never feel it again.

That strange power didn't answer. It had abandoned him as well and took his mother away from him. He could feel her transformed soul being whisked away, far far away from him. He would never forgive it for taking away his Mom! Never!

He lay down next to the now motionless body that still smelled like his mother even though the stench of sickness hung over it. That night, he felt his Mom get colder and colder. He tried to warm her up by rubbing her arms, sides and legs, but nothing would work. He knew that it was useless but every now and then he called out to her unmoving chest, her still heart and her sagged lungs; he begged them to move again but nothing happend. Crying, he curled up next to her now cool body; weeping for a mother that had been taken away from him forever. His little fists clung so tightly to her side that the next morning he could barely move his fingers at all.

That night he had dreamt of his mother. She had smiled at him, had taken him into her warm arms one last time and turned her back towards him. She had walked away.

So in his fitful sleep, a voice, older than man, even older than the world, whispered softly into his ears in a language that nobody knew yet everybody understood at the same time: "This is your first lesson." And it disappeared again as suddenly as it had appeared, not to be seen for years to come.

They had to tear him away from her body.

"Hush little one, she is gone now. Clinging to her body won't save her," a healer told him in an unfriendly way but this met not the logic of a seven-year-old child. He was fighting them all the way until there was no strength left in him. They put him in a singular quarantine to see if he had become infected as well but after a few days they realized he was healthy and he was allowed back home. During that time the broken boy had gazed at the wall for hours, whimpering and sometimes screaming for a mother that wouldn't come.

As he was almost kicked out of the hospital by that same unfriendly healer Anakin wondered: Where was home now? The only other friend his Mom had ever had was Jira. Would she take him in? Was she even alive? At that thought he began to panic – not another one! Not another precious to him dead! Headlessly, he ran through the dirty streets until he finally arrived at her little home in the slave district she shared with another family.

Please let her be there, please, let her be there! Those were his only thoughts as he pounded against the door. The door slid open and Anakin's eyes widened. Before he knew it he jumped forward.

"Thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you…" he spoke it like a mantra, like a drowning child that had finally reached land.

"Little Ani! You are back! And healthy!" Jira smiled in joy. She had feared that she wouldn't see any of them ever again since the Rojo fever was a relentless sickness with few survivors. Her heart fell, however, when she realized that the boy was alone and crying his eyes out into her old worn dress. She knelt down to look him in the eyes.

"Ani, where is your mother?" She asked with trepidation not really wanting to know the ugly truth but she had to know for certain. When the boy simply shook his head she knew everything that she needed to know.

"Come inside. You will live with me from now on."

She put her hand back on his tiny shoulders, noting how small they were and how they seemed to carry the weight of the world.

"You look so thin, Anakin. I have some dinner left – you are eating some of it and then you are going to go to bed. I'm arranging a mattress for you, don't worry. I won't tell Watto that you're home and healthy yet. You need some time to recover."

He simply nodded, accepting any kindness he could get. But there was one thing he wanted her to know.

"Please, don't call me 'Ani' anymore", he requested in a small voice. Jira understood. 'Ani' was what his mother had always called him. If she hadn't been a slave for almost all her life she would have started to weep at the loss of innocence. It hurt her in that small soft spot that hadn't hardened over all of those years in pain and suffering, that a soul so young could sound so hopeless and without joy of life.

But she nodded. This was the request of an adult and she would respect it because the moment Anakin's mother had died the boy had entered the world of the adults. It was a cruel and unforgiving world but from now on Anakin had to bear it like a grown up would bear it – in stoic indifference.

Jira could never hope to replace that bond that Anakin had had with his mother; she could only hope that time would heal Anakin's wound. Her job was to provide for his further survival from now on. With a heavy heart she turned around and followed the boy into her small living quarters.

Nothing would ever be the same again.

A/N: Now, I bet you didn't expect that. Next week I'm not so certain when I will be able to update. I've gratuated this weekend and next week I'm moving. I hope I'll find a chance to edit the next chapter around next Sunday of the next week. Real life can be so amazing and at the same time so bothersome...