Another update! (Less than a week after the last one). This chapter is kind of more of an interlude where Anakin thinks more of his past, so... I made up a Tatooine legend, basically. I think it turned out well. Anyway, please please please leave a review if you enjoyed the story or if you have some suggestions or something. Seriously! I would love to hear your opinions :)


CHAPTER IX
Paradox

an event that contradicts itself, or should be impossible, but isn't

or: Anakin Skywalker finds himself in a Rebel base


When Anakin was a young boy, he would often dream of things. Possible futures, things he wished would happen but knew would not, for how could they? He had been a slave boy on Tatooine, and he had thought that that's what he would be for the remainder of his life. So then they had always been dreams.

Today, of course, Anakin had thought would never, ever happen. He was standing inside a Rebel Base, not about to wipe said base off the planet's surface. It seemed only fitting that he would think of his impossible childhood dreams when he himself stood in a situation that was never supposed to be.

When he had been young, his mother, of course, had encouraged him. She told him stories, endless tales as old as the Tatooine suns, passed down generations. They had kept the fire alight.

Anakin's favourite tale had been the one about H'Arthess. H'Arthess had been a young slave girl, insignificant, but extraordinary. They said she had golden hair, like the desert itself was attached to her head. They said she had eyes so bright and blue that they outshone the sky.

She was perfectly ordinary to herself, but to others, she was not so. They say that H'Arthess had a kind heart. She was young, but she gave life her all. She always helped out, even when it was not her place. She was a jewel of her Master's 'collection.' This was the story of how she set out to do something deemed impossible, and ended up doing something even more so.

The tale went something like this;

H'Arthess was instructed by her Master to go to the nearest village and trade the harsh desert-weed cloth for water. The other slaves knew that this was an impossible task, as nobody ever traded for desert-weed cloth, and especially not for water. H'Arthess had simply nodded her head and bowed down, picking up the desert-weed cloth and going silently. She had ignored the looks and mutters of the other slaves and went to do her task.

When she got to the village market, she stood out with her golden hair and bright eyes. She had received many looks, and when people began to notice her, really notice her (what she was, who she was), they began to pity her. Kinder souls offered her money and various other things but she declined, saying no, she had come for water, for she and the other slaves were going to run out, and if she did not bring water, then she would be punished, no matter if she was her Master's jewel or not.

She had wandered around the market, asking around if anyone had any water. The suns were past the half-way point of their daily journey through the sky, and H'Arthess had not found water. She was close to simply giving up, but then, she was approached by an old man. He was weary and grey, but his face was kind.

"Say, child," he began. "I have some water that I might be able to give, but I have to ask a favour first."

H'Arthess looked at him and frowned a bit, before replying; "Sir, that would be most kind. I can give you this cloth in exchange, but nothing more, as that is all I have."

The old man smiled and shook his head.

"No, no, your cloth I do not need. All I ask is that you accompany me and share supper. It has been a while since I have shared a meal with anyone, you see."

H'Arthess had been perplexed, but she didn't sense any ill will from the man's words, so she nodded and followed him.

His home was small, but H'Arthess did not say anything as the man let her put her cloths down and led her to a table. He had taken out a pot and put it to heat. The food inside smelled marvellous, and H'Arthess was hungry. When the man put the food on the table, she had ate it gladly, giving the kind man her thanks.

The man smiled at her and said that it was no trouble. She was just getting up to leave when he put a gentle hand on her shoulder.

"Before you go with the water, I must ask you one more favour," he said.

"Of course, sir," replied H'Arthess, letting the man lead her into another small room.

She watched as the old man calmly fumbled about the wall as if looking for something. After a few moments, he let out a small "ah," and had took out a box. It was an ordinary-looking box, of course, but as all seemingly ordinary things are, it was not, in fact, ordinary.

For when the old man lifted the lid for H'Arthess to see, there lay a small pearl-white stone. It glowed brightly for an object its size, and H'Arthess was enchanted. She looked up at the man then, for she was not unintelligent.

"Sir? What do you want me to do?" She asked.

"Take it," he replied. "This stone has the power to free you of your binds to your Master, if you ask."

H'Arthess was skeptical at best, for she had never heard of a stone that could free slaves.

"How?" She asked the man. He smiled at her in return.

"You see, this stone belongs to Dar'As, the spirit of highest of the Tatooine suns."

H'Arthess took the stone in her small hands and held it as her eyes gazed upon it in wonder. Then she looked at the man with even more curiosity.

"You're Dar'As?" She asked in awe.

"What do you think?" He replied, his eyes glowing ever more bright. The man was changing before her very eyes. Soon, it was not the frail old man from the market standing before her, but a younger, more tousled youth, with golden hair and bright blue eyes.

"You see," he said, his voice a powerful melody. "The stone called me out to you in the market because you were meant to have it. It had been foretold in the stories and tales of old, and all the others can see it. You are one of the true daughters of the desert, and you were meant to be free."

Anakin had adored that story, although he had always thought that it seemed unfulfilled, somehow. Whenever he talked to his mother about it, she would give him this secret smile and say; "The ending is only what you feel is right."

That had confused Anakin to no end when he had been a little boy, but present Anakin, older Anakin, battle-worn and weary Anakin finally thought he understood what he hadn't so many years ago.

What his mother was really saying was that you can make your own choices, just as long as you feel that they are the right ones.

And this, he thought, this, the Rebellion, the fight for peace, this felt right.

But then again, so had his fall.