A/N: This was not an easy chapter for me to write! Wow—I have no idea what I've gotten myself into. I've left Qui-Gon for awhile. You know, he really isn't being very good in my story—but I abdicate all responsibility. This story has taken a course of its own and the characters do things by their own will (or so it seems—can I help it if I hear voices in my head….?) But as for him I'll agree that his actions are quite unforgivable but somehow I sense redemption for him some day…in some way…But enough of him. Obi-Wan was meant to make more of a return in this chapter but Yoda kind of took over (stupid little troll wouldn't stop thinking). For reasons I cannot fully comprehend, I decided to include the "prophecy" in its entirety. It kind of bothers me that they all just kind of spoke of this "prophecy" but never really went into it in great detail. I mean, surely there was more to it than "The Chosen One will bring balance" which is pretty much all we know from the movie. So, it seemed necessary, to uhhh…go into detail on what it would say. But then I was at this point where I'm like—how do you write Jedi prophecy? So if it seems unbelievable or corny, I claim full responsibility. That part is slightly heavy, I feel. I took some extreme liberties with the sparse information listed in TPM to make this prophecy. It's supposed to be a little ambiguous—it has to sound prophetic, doesn't it? If it were so cut and dry then it wouldn't really be prophecy. The prophecy surely just didn't' take about the Chosen One and so I kind of did some musing as to what else it might foresee. I don't know. Let me know what you think. And next chapter I should get back to Obi-Wan (after all, he was at one point the focus of my story…). Thanks :)
Chapter 13
Despair, like a dense fog, settled about him, masking both the sea and sky from his vision. He breathed it in, nearly choking on it as it congested his lungs. Sensing its victim's lack of resources, the haze sought to envelop the unfortunate castaway whole. Unable to latch onto to anything to fight with or for, he had nearly surrendered himself to it.
Nearly. But not quite.
Just as he had felt the thickness solidifying in his throat, blocking his breathing, sucking his vitality, there had been something else. It had not been the sun—not that its rays could have likely penetrated the fog. No, its guiding rays had forsaken him forever. But, somewhere in the bleakness, came a different sensation—a sensation that he seemed to know, inherently, but had not come across in a long time. It wafted like a melody through the fog, flittering breezily through the Force. It did not know him but touched him intimately. In the depths of his sorrow and anguish, it met him there not to pull him out but to empathize. No words formed fantastically in his mind and nothing but an essence ricocheted through his practically emptied body. There was something else out there besides the sun and the moon and even the stars.
He wasn't alone.
Somehow, this simple truth mattered immensely. Though his life almost spent and his spirit virtually depleted, he was not alone. Maybe, just maybe, life in itself was worth living. Although he could not begin to imagine in what way, something protested inside of him. Choking now, he fought to expel the fog from within him with little effect. Spewing hopelessly, he quickly realized how little he had to fight with and how much less he had to fight for. The fog would not clear from his body and the grayness would not brighten.
Tears burned behind his tired eyes as he resigned himself to waiting. The fog still threatened to suffocate him, but he resisted now. The sun—he wept bitterly for it—would not return, but he clung to the possibility—even the most remote chance—that life might exist without the sun. He could not see it, he could not envision it, and he did not have the will to pursue it. All he did have was the remnants of his will which he, in apathetic desperation, devoted to survival.
***
Emptiness echoed off the vaulted ceilings of the Archives. The hour was late (or rather early) and even the Archive attendants had turned in for the night, save the lone attendant on duty. Yoda had merely nodded at her as she had tiredly scrambled to assist him. He continued onward, leaving her shrinking back, reddening, as the small Master bid her to leave. After 800 years, Yoda did not need help navigating the vast library. In fact, he remembered when this room for the Archives had been built. He knew every nook and every cranny, every book and every database.
He also knew every detail of the prophecy. Many Jedi had taken lifetimes to transcribe it, analyzing it carefully and accurately, offering new and distinct insights and interpretation. Yoda had read all of the theories. He had even viewed the original manuscript, penned by the prophet herself, which outdated even himself and stretched back to the birth of the Jedi. He had even been privileged to view the original holo-recording, which preceded the written version, antiquated as it was, where the Jedi prophesied directly and warily through a mix of technology, now garbled with age and use. The holo-recording now rested in the restricted area, available only to the high Archivists and the Council Members.
Too tired to bother with the formalities, Yoda aptly used the Force to pass the superfluous security checks. He believed wholly in the necessity of such checks, but after over half a millennia in these chambers, they seemed rather frivolous for him. He recalled overseeing the installation of many of these security devices in his earlier days. Usually he accepted the formalities as a burden of example to promote obedience to such requirements in the rest of the Temple. However, in the still of night and with such a heavy mind, he simply forewent them all together.
Hobbling further into the Archives, he finally came to the vault where the most precious artifacts were preserved. Without hesitation, Yoda retrieved the ancient holo-projector, encased with care in a controlled and specially designed box. Despite his apparently decrepit movements, he carried the holo-projector gracefully to the specialized and restricted study area. He shut the door behind him, placing the item upon the stand. Pausing, he collected his thoughts, focusing intently on the Force. Then, through a movement of the Force, he initiated the projector.
The image shimmered before him, crackling and flickering, as the ancient projector attempted to replay its information. The holographic Knight that stood before him looked as she always had when Yoda had viewed this transmission, but this time, however, she seemed more real. Little was known about her from the Archive records—she lived during the very early stages of the Jedi Order. In fact, she was of the first generation Knights—the first to be hand selected from infancy due to their sensitivity to the Force. Her home world was Coruscant, although it scarcely resembled the space-metropolis it was now. Her name was Lorene Weston, and she was a Padawan to one of the original Jedi, Kalla Speph, one of the lesser known originals. Weston was human and not noteworthy in appearance. As her image glowed before Yoda now, he scrutinized her fading brown hair, falling loosely out of her braid. She stood of an average height, her complexion creamy and vital. At the time of the recording she looked to be no older than 35. No records were kept of her missions or accomplishments, save the report that she took on one Padawan during her lifetime. And this prophecy was her only prophecy.
The mystery of its prophet helped induced the mysticism that seemed to accompany the message. It was a well known prophecy, often studied by the Initiates while they learned Jedi history. Its focus on the balancing of the Force provided a springboard into ample discussions on the nature of the Force, educating Initiates on the Light and Dark sides of the Force. The "Chosen One," as a result, became part of Jedi lore. There was something somewhat paradoxical about the Jedi. Being deeply in touch with the Force, the Jedi touted abilities which ultimately both seemed rational and supernatural—the two opposing ideals for the commoners throughout the universe. However, in the Order, these two coincided and coexisted, so much so that in essence they were identical. The Jedi's connection with the Force wasn't truly supernatural—their amazing physical feats and mental insights were nothing more than the result of the ability to understand the Force. The Force did not reveal itself exclusively to Jedi, but they cultivated the art of using it and understanding it. It took years of work and concentration—a training that the ordinary citizens of the galaxy were not privileged to. Science had reasoned much of the Force into rational forms, but there was something undeniably supernatural about the Force. The way it bound the universe together astonished and awed even the most gifted Jedi and the most prolific scientist. While the Jedi's sensitivity to the Force in itself was not magical or mystical by any means, their communion with it seemed as much to the lay person. This mysticism that clouded the average mind was generally shunned within the Order. Initiates were taught to use the Force to be reasonable. Yet, they too fell victim to this mysticism of that which they did not readily know. Such things as prophecy become larger than life, taking on a new dimension with each new generation of Jedi. Yoda had heard Initiates chide each other more than once with the line "Who do you think you are, the Chosen One?" This demeanor also arose concerning the Sith. They all knew of the Sith, which stalked the galaxy a millennia ago. And while each student heard grave accounts of great battles of the past between the Light and Dark, it still seemed little more than urban legend, maintained, in tradition, by the masters to keep order and discipline.
In general, this attitude had only mildly concerned Master Yoda. He had watched as this mysticism slowly spread subversively through the Order, strengthening with each successful generation. Yoda himself had noticed how the immediacy regarding such things had even waned within himself. But the effect was benign and while Yoda never fostered such attitudes, he also didn't dwell heavily on them. After all, he had no means to rectify the situation. Such lackaday could only rectify itself, unfortunately. Grimly, Yoda knew that it just had. The Sith, which had vanished, existed once again with a power and control that taunted the Light mysteriously and ominously. No longer would the myths be treated flippantly. The threat had been realized and now would tread with them all the more notably. The Initiates would now listen with wide-eyes, pressed by the urgent reality of Darkness, and speak no more of such beings to save their dreams from their wrath.
For some reason, Yoda felt that the Sith would not be the only legend turned to reality. That premonition and the gravity of its implications had driven him here. Yoda quieted his musing thoughts, letting himself flow freely with the Force, and listened as Weston's projection began to speak.
Weston's slight frame stood erect with some amount of effort on her part. Taking a shaky breath, she commenced her prophesy. "I was hesitant to make this recording, but the Force has so urged me to do so that I cannot refrain. I speak humbly, as a servant of the Force, and make no claims to these words. What I speak is not of my thought or imagination but divinely projected by the Force through my meek body. This came to me in a vision I received during meditation, first when I was very young. But, being as of yet not fully trained, I did not understand it and ignored its message in ignorance. However, this vision came to me again, this time when I was near the end of my training under Master Speph. I recalled it from my youth and beseeched my master to help me interpret it. He told me he could not interpret what the Force had spoken to me. I spent much time struggling with the vision but could come to no conclusions. Finally, with the passage of time, I let the vision pass from my consciousness, finishing my training and beginning my Knighthood.
"However, no matter how feeble we are or how foolishly we cast the Force aside, the Force still determines to work through us. I had been a Knight but a few years when the vision came to me again, this time with startling vibrancy and clarity that I nearly perceived it as reality. The vision came to me meditation after meditation, so often that I could no longer ignore it. It became the only thing on my mind. I approached the Masters concerning it, but they responded as Master Speph had years ago. So, requesting a hiatus from active duty, I withdrew to the obscure and abandoned planet of Juli V. There I spent nearly all my time in meditation or at odds with the harsh conditions to be found on the rugged, outcast of a planet. And it is there, by the grace of the Force, I began to comprehend and interpret my vision. This is what the Force told me:
"The Force binds the galaxies together in an intricate tapestry. Through the Living Force, each being is interconnected with each other, pulsating independently yet together. In the greater Force, all moments are woven together, existing one after another as the Force wills. Though the Force links every living thing, future, past and present, the Force allows each the choices of its conscience. It is these choices in which the Darkness arises. It is because of the Darkness that the Jedi have rallied together in the name of the Light, defending the goodness of the Force as it wills us to do so.
"However, despite the noble and able work of the Jedi, the Darkness shall still consume the Light. It shall overtake the galaxies, squelching the Light nearly irrevocably. The reign of Darkness will befall every living thing, subjugating peasant and Jedi alike. However, the Force will not allow this terror to vanquish all Light. For the Force has predestined the Chosen One."
Weston's face was grave. Although the holo-recording was centuries old and Weston had been buried long ago, Yoda concentrated all his energy to reading her thoughts. Weston had left the Living Force in ancient days, Yoda knew that, but he also knew how all became one in the Force. Weston's essence still existed somewhere. Through the Force, he could narrow in on the holo-projector, tracing it back to her and her vitality in the Living Force. It was distant, but with a great deal of intense focus, he suddenly found himself strangely in touch with her. Her features shone tiredness which he could suddenly perceive in her countenance and stance. A great deal of time and thought had preceded this recording. Yoda watched carefully as Weston's figure continued.
"His birth will not be accounted by rational means but it will also garner no attention. For the Chosen One shall have humble beginnings, born denied of the most basic rights. Yet, despite the efforts of the Dark to restrain him and hold him from his glory, the Light shall see him to victory. From a life of bondage, he will find freedom and prosperity. Even in his naïve youth, he shall rise up from the blowing sands as a hope in a sea of desolation. He shall overcome all obstacles and take his place among the great Jedi of the galaxy. They will not deny him, for his potential shall tempt them far too strongly. He will be strong in the Force, stronger than any before him. He will excel in his studies and his training unlike any who may go precede him. He will be heralded as the great Jedi, the last hope of a mighty Order, the last hope of a just galaxy. For through his life he shall bring balance to the Force—the balance the Force so desperately craves."
Most quotations and commentaries on the prophecy tended to end on that note, and, at times, Yoda, too, had ended the projector there to go meditate in earlier study sessions. The prophecy took a different path in its second half, usually seen as lacking significant relevance to the Chosen One. The focus drifted and became somewhat ambiguous, usually proving to be less provocative. But, drawn by the Force, Yoda did not let his gaze leave Weston's holographic face. She paused only momentarily, as if to calm her nerves, before beginning to speak anew.
"But in the last great hope is also the last great fear. The Chosen One will prevail but at the expense of his teachers and mentors, who shall suffer for his training. Only those bound by that which they cannot control or deny will bear this burden. For in the coming of the Chosen One, the Darkness shall be at its peak. It will swallow up the Light, it shall Darken the Force, and even the great Jedi Masters shall struggle against its blackening control. The Jedi, for the first time in millennia, will be virtually impotent, unable to avert the impending disaster, thrusting the entirety of their hope and meditations on the perseverance of the Chosen One. They shall sense the rising evil and they shall meditate on it greatly. They shall rally their strength and courage, spurring the Order to make its last stand. But it cannot keep the Darkness at bay. Only the Chosen One can bring balance to the Force. With this sense of foreboding they shall determine to train the Chosen One, driven by a Force-based necessity. The Code will be compromised in consideration of the fate of the galaxy.
"And they shall train him. One will claim the Chosen One, taking upon himself the title of Master. To this man I grant the sympathy of the ages. His is a life of burden. But, forsaking everything, this man shall guide the Chosen One and lead him in the ways of the Jedi. He shall braid the Chosen One's hair, severing the braid of his own training simultaneously. It will cost him dearly, and there will be many days when he will scorn and curse, but he will not waver. For the ways of the Force seem more important to men than does the beating of their own hearts. And in the end they shall lose it all anyway and their efforts will be for naught.
"But great Jedi, do not lose hope. The Force is always there, and it shall be with you for all eternity. It binds you to me and to every other living thing that ever was, is, and will be. And it shall be with you when the Darkness falls. And it will fall. It will seep throughout the planets, corroding the justice and peace we have worked so hard to instill. Evil shall prevail, the unnatural shall conquer. A great war will besiege the galaxies, a war fought of metal and semi-man, a harbinger of the decay that has swept the planets. And you shall fight, great Jedi. Yes, you shall fight till your dying breaths always believing in your actions. It is not the way of the Jedi to sit idly by while destruction wreaks havoc throughout the galaxies. But, dear brethren, your fighting will be in vain. For our meager actions pull not at the Force of destiny but we relinquish to its desires, thinking ourselves as noble.
"But, there will be balance. The Chosen One will finally overrule the Darkness from the inside out, redeeming himself and the galaxy from bondage. Then, a new era of peace and Light will prevail, creating prosperity and hope in the galaxies. The Jedi shall be revived, though none of you will taste in that glory. But your works and your teachings, the works and teachings of all the great Jedi who have come before you, will inspire a new Order. And this Order shall renew the Code and emancipate the Force and once again keep the peace in the galaxies.
"And this is what the Force has compelled me to document and make record of for the millennia to come. By my words, be wary, and do not let the Darkness catch you unprepared. The Darkness is coming and the Chosen One will be conceived. I hesitate to use the word prophecy, but no other seems appropriate. Take my words as not set in stone but as encoded precariously in the intricate workings of the Force. And, as always, may the Force be with you."
The image wavered a moment longer before vanishing, the projector falling silent once again. Yoda, deep in thought, did not move.
Frequently, the Chosen One was equated with something of a savior to the Jedi who would then save the galaxy through the balancing of the Force. The phrase "balancing the Force" had become common enough, yet Yoda often found it used without much meaning. Something in the phrase unsettled him—the concept of balance. Balance suggested equilibrium between the two sides, when speaking of the Force it had to mean the Light and the Dark. So, presumably, as the Darkness rose (which Yoda assumed now would coincide with the return of the Sith) the Jedi would be overwhelmed by the Darkness, which would restrict their abilities and hamper their authority. Then, in their hour of despair, the Chosen One would come and bring balance.
That seemed almost ridiculously simplistic and unconsidered. How would he bring balance? Just his very presence? Defeating the Sith? Would the balance be literal or was it merely figurative? Balance implied an equality of the Light and the Dark—but the Jedi had always strove to snuff out the Dark? Was balance truly the ideal?
Something else seemed at odds with the popular notions of the Chosen One. It was Weston herself—the way she carried herself on the holo-recording. Her mood had been sober, nearly melancholy and troubled—hardly the attitude of one prophesying the coming of the great Chosen One, the savior of the Force. What did Weston see that made her draw her face so tightly and that tormented her so vividly that she nearly did not make the recording at all?
Take my words as not set in stone but as encoded precariously in the intricate workings of the Force.
What did prophecy imply anyway, Yoda considered suddenly. Did prophecy contradict the idea of free will? Did prophecy lock down individuals to the unyielding, insistent pull of the Force? Or was prophecy nothing more than the foreknowledge of events? Could prophecy be broken by sheer will?
Yoda, humbled by the Force, had to admit he did not know at present. Cumbering lightly over to the stand, he removed the projector, carrying it gently back toward the vault. As he laid it to rest within its safe and secure place, he studied it carefully once more. Then, with a deep sigh, he closed the lid. "May the Force be with you as well," he murmured to Weston, wherever she may be, before continuing on for more meditation.