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The darkness was smothering me, yet that was never the worst part. The worst part was the severe cold. I could feel it wrapping around me, enveloping me in its icy grip. There was always a part of me that knew this was a dream, but it was buried deep beneath the crippling fear and all-consuming confusion. My frozen fingers ached as I held them to my chest, and my eyes squinted into the pitch-black abyss. The only sound came from my feet hitting the ground as I walked aimlessly through the inky fog. A wet squelching gave away that there was water beneath my feet, and I slowed down. I bent down and ran my fingertips along the ground in hopes of finding some evidence of my location. My brows furrowed when I felt nothing; no wetness, nor cold, just...nothing. I stood, my heart pounding in my chest. Where was I?

Glancing around, I ran my fingers through my hair in frustration. Suddenly a rhythmic pounding of someone's feet caught my attention, and I turned towards the sound; my stomach dropped as the shadows to my left parted, and a figure started toward me. I slowly backed away, the water at my feet doing nothing to conceal my movement. The cold had intensified with the figure's arrival, and my lungs burned with every fear-filled breath. The figure's steps became heavy and fast-paced, and I turned on my heel, running at full force. I couldn't make out who, or what, was following behind, but it didn't matter. I just knew I had to run. My muscles ached with the effort, but I kept going. The darkness never receded no matter which direction I turned, and what little hope I had, was wearing thin. I wasn't sure how I knew that being caught wasn't an option, but I did. My mind screamed that the figure brought nothing but death with it. So I continued forward, always running, always hearing footsteps following close behind.

My eyes snapped open, and I twisted my body around in fear. My skin was sticky with sweat, and my legs refused to do my bidding. I sat up in fear and almost laughed when I found my aching body was trapped in my old worn quilt. I took a few deep, calming breaths as I freed myself. My fingers and toes still felt cold and stiff from my dream, and I wiggled some life back into them with a small grimace. With the after-effects of my nightmare still haunting me, I could almost taste the bitter cold on my tongue. It had a sharp metallic flavor. I hated it. A warm sensation fell on my face, the sun coming in through the small window above my bed, and I basked it. Stretching out, I tossed my blanket to the end of my bed and sat up, lifting my arms above my head. I couldn't live without the sun; the light was all I'd ever known. That was part of what made my nightmares so unbearable; the darkness was...all-consuming. I was used to warm, sunny days — separated by long, severe rainstorms. It was really the only type of weather we had on my home planet. I'd never traveled outside of Corellia, I'd never had the units to spare., I barely had enough to survive where I was now. At times it was hard having so little and being alone, but it was all I had ever known — well, for the most part. I was an orphan, or at least that is what I called myself. My parents disappeared when I was ten. They went hunting and never returned. I waited for days before I realized they had abandoned me. I only figured it out when I saw they had taken all their clothes and the spare units we had accumulated. I hated them after that, and I never went after them. Luckily, I was a self-sufficient child. That was their final gift, I guess. They taught me how to hunt, forage, and defend myself. My father left behind more than just me. He left all of his weapons, even the one he had used most of his life. It was my favorite; it lit up bright yellow, like the sun on its best day. I had always loved watching him use it. It would almost sparkle as it cut through the air. Yellow used to be my favorite color. I never understood why my parents always insisted I knew how to take care of myself. Now, I realize they were preparing me for what was to come. At least they were kind enough to teach me how to survive without them.

I stood to my feet and shook off the nightmare and the memories that followed — just like every day. It was beginning to become a routine. Go to sleep, have the nightmare, wake up, then get through the day. Such was life; I was used to it, and I wasn't about to allow myself to crumble. This was all I'd ever known, or will ever know. I'd taught myself long ago that dreams were meant for other people. I was just an orphan girl from Corellia, and getting through each day was enough for me. I grabbed my toiletries and went outside to my makeshift shower — a little waterfall positioned beside my cottage. I didn't have to worry about being seen; I never received visitors, no one dared travel this far into the forest. It was too easy to get lost. Or worse, come into contact with one of the many beasts that lived in these parts. My parents had been very private people and had built our cottage away from prying eyes and what they deemed the planet's corruption...other people. The cottage was built directly beside a creek with a beautiful small waterfall. My mother had also created a wonderful garden to supply us with fruits and vegetables. Father had once told me we had everything we needed right here. "The forest provides." It had been his motto.

I took off my clothes and stepped under the cool water. I allowed it to wash everything clean, even my mind. Once I was done, I wrapped myself in a towel and went inside. I was out of meat, so I knew today would consist of hunting. I quickly threw on my green hunting attire and pulled on my combat boots. I placed my red hair in braids, twisting them into a crown atop my head, and grabbed my knives and bow. I looked myself over in the mirror beside my bed and rubbed at my tired blue eyes. I frowned at my pale reflection. My mind was a million miles away. My dry, chapped lips fell into a scowl. I couldn't shake this awful feeling that today wasn't just another day. It had been nagging at me since I woke up. It was like I could hear a small voice trying to reach me from somewhere deep inside. My mother used to say that when you heard that voice, to listen to it, that it was there to protect and guide you. I thought she was kinda full of it. Of course, I'd never really heard the voice until after she was gone. Though I had gotten older and the dreams had gotten worse, it was a near-constant feeling. I couldn't pinpoint where it was coming from, but it was always there — flickering in the back of my mind. Through the years, that nagging buzz had gotten to be so familiar that sometimes I would forget it wasn't supposed to be there. Then there were other times, times when it would become so loud I could do nothing but press my hands over my ears in the hopes that it would dull the pulsing thump in my brain. Those were the times when I would ignore it out of sheer spite. I had gotten pretty good over the years at ignoring it. Still, it would always leave behind a dull ache in my head, an angry reminder of its existence no matter how I wished to deny it.

As I stared at myself in the mirror, I couldn't believe the lifeless expression that stared back at me. My once bright blue eyes looked almost gray. I could feel the heavy thumping in my mind - its forcefulness like never before. I had done all I could do to deny its very existence, to deny that strange connection to whatever lies inside me. I wanted to forget my mother's request to connect and listen to the voice within. My mother's religious beliefs did not have to be my own. When I was younger, my mother had told me countless crazy stories. Why should I choose to believe this one? Couldn't the things I've felt be just a fabrication of my own addled mind? I had been alone for such a long time. Maybe I was finally losing it? My pale face screwed up in confused exasperation, my eyes clouding with unshed tears. I felt so ashamed. I turned away from my reflection and rubbed my forehead; there was a tight pressure behind my eyes that wouldn't go away.

Fine, I give in!

I clenched my hands into fists and took a deep breath, closing my eyes. I exhaled, releasing the air from my lungs and letting go of the stress from my body. I relaxed my shoulders and unclenched my fists. I never tried to connect with whatever was constantly harassing me and didn't exactly know what I was doing, so I was just going on sheer instinct.

The buzzing in my mind lulled to a slow pulse, and I felt my heart start to match the pace, a slow steady: Thump, thump, thump, thump. I twisted my neck around and felt my body fall into a peaceful sedate state. I pushed out a simple thought into the void, not knowing what else I could do.

"What do you want from me?"

"Elara, this is just the beginning. Be brave, my child."

I gasped, taken aback by how clear the voice had become. It was only a whisper until today. Just an annoying constant buzz. I had been right; something about today was different. That thought terrified me. I opened my eyes and turned away from the mirror, avoiding my wide horror-filled eyes. I shook my head, denial held firm in my grasp. Nothing would be different, this wasn't a fairytale, and I was no heroine. I adjusted my bow and started toward the door. On the storage shelf, my father's saber started to move on its own in the corner of the room. I stopped in my tracks and slowly turned, my bow sliding off my arm and to the floor. I stared, open-mouthed, at the wiggling silver weapon. I had never seen it do that before.

What the hell was with this day!?

Before I knew what I was truly doing, I started to walk towards it. My footsteps stopped when the buzzing started again — the voice sounding in my mind. An unknown, soft tone I had never heard before today. "Elara, it's calling out to you. Answer its call."

I had no clue what it meant, but as I stood there, like a brainless oaf, my arm began to rise of its own accord. Something inside me clicked into place, and I opened my hand. I focused on the saber, the cool metal of its hilt, and the hidden power within. I could feel a strange unknown energy rise within me, it called to the saber, and as it did, the saber flew towards me. My eyes widened, and I screeched, falling to the floor. I landed on my stomach, my nails digging into the wood beneath me. I turned my neck, looking up, and watched the saber fly past me and out the door.

"What the hell was that?" I whispered, rolling onto my back.

I sat up and stood to my feet, carefully following the saber outside. I glanced around, hoping to find some proof that what just happened...actually happened, and that I wasn't entirely insane. Still, I couldn't find the saber anywhere.

"Ok creepy voice. If I'm not a crazy person, which I most likely am, I could use your help again," I said, bending down and looking in the bushes.

"Elara, the saber answers your call. This time stow away your fear and believe in yourself."

I jumped, falling forward and landing face-first in the bushes in front of me. I grumbled, pushing myself onto my hands and using a nearby tree to pull myself up. I brushed off my hands and bit my bottom lip angrily. I rolled my eyes with a huff of breath and placed my hands on my hips. It was so easy for this disembodied voice to be fearless. It didn't have its entire world suddenly turned upside down and then attacked by a flying weapon! Shaking my head, I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, focusing as I had done in the cottage. Holding out my hand, I winced, my entire arm shaking with nerves. I kept my eyes closed out of fear and waited. My wrist jerked harshly as cool metal met my awaiting palm. I grimaced slightly in alarming shock and slight pain. The shock won out when I opened my eyes to find my father's saber firmly seated in my hand.

How the hell did I do that?

"This is the first step in becoming what you are meant to be."

My grip on the saber tightened, and I brought it close to my chest, my hand still shaking.

What I was meant to be? No, I couldn't possibly be meant for more than this. I was just Elara, a girl no one wanted. I closed my eyes and reached out, finding it easier now than I first had. What that meant, I didn't think I wanted to know.

"What was I meant to be? I'm just me. How can you say I was meant for more?"

I stood in between my cottage and the opening of the forest, waiting silently for an answer. It was almost as if I were standing in between my past and my future, just waiting for permission to dream for more, something I had never deemed possible. Hope was an extraordinary and dangerous thing.

"You must go to the village. There you will find your destiny. Good luck, Elara. May the Force be with you."

The buzzing in my head hummed to a gentle stop, leaving me behind. I was alone again, alone with my constant barrage of thoughts and confusion. The village; it wanted me to leave? I had never been allowed to leave before. I had only ever known the walls of my cottage and the world of the forest. The Force? May the Force be with me? I vaguely remembered my father saying that before. Whispered conversations about something he called the Force. He would only speak of it when he thought I wasn't around. What exactly was it, and why was I only remembering these pieces of my past now? I lowered myself to the ground and leaned against a tree, the rough bark a welcome distraction. I looked down at the saber in my hand, the metal now warm in my firm grasp. I ran my thumb across the igniter on the side and gasped as it came to life. The bright yellow glimmered like a burning sun. I stood to my feet and waved it back and forth, swinging it around experimentally. The hiss it made as it passed through the air had always mystified me. I had never been allowed to use the saber as a child, and even after my father left, I couldn't bring myself to touch it. I kept to my bow and knives. Could I do what the voice asked me? Could I be more than what I was now? Having a destiny wasn't something I had ever considered. I watched the yellow recede as I deactivated the saber and placed it on my belt. I glanced out over the forest and back toward my cottage. My choice was clear.