After a while, I gently lifted her off of me, got up, and walked to the balcony. I couldn't seem to fall asleep. The night air in my lungs, my face, and my hair felt so good. I closed my eyes and breathed in deeply. Then a soft voice, floating on the wind, singing a hauntingly beautiful melody with no words, reached my ears. I had never sung a note in my life, but all of a sudden, a song rose from my lips.

My gift is my song, and this one's for you

You can tell everybody that this is your song

It may be quite simple but now that it's done

Hope you don't mind,

I hope you don't mind,

That I put down in words

How wonderful life is,

Now you're in the world

I stopped and opened my eyes abruptly. "Where did that come from?" I asked. The voice that had come from my lips could not have been my own. "I can't sing. I couldn't carry a note with a handle, yet . . . that was beautiful." I hurried inside and recorded the words I had sung. I'd tell Obi-Wan in the morning.

I returned to the balcony and looked out at the night sky. This was a rare Coruscant night where you could actually see the stars. I recalled a conversation Qui-Gon and I had had on Tatooine. . . .

Darkness cloaked Mos Espa in deepening layers as night descended. Anakin Skywalker sat quietly on the balcony rail of his back porch while Qui-Gon studied a deep cut in the boy's arm. Anakin had sustained the cut sometime during the afternoon's prep work on the Podracer, and in typical boy fashion, he hadn't even noticed it until now.

Anakin gave the injury a cursory glance as the Jedi prepared to clean it, then leaned back to look up at the blanket of stars in the sky.

"Sit still, Ani," Qui-Gon instructed.

The boy barely heard him. "There are so many! Do they all have a system of planets?"

"Most of them." Qui-Gon produced a clean piece of cloth.

"Has anyone been to all of them?"

Qui-Gon laughed. "Not likely."

Anakin nodded, still looking up. "I want to be the first one then, the first to see them all."

I felt a painful sting at the memory of Qui-Gon. It had been a long time since I had thought of him. Another memory entered my mind . . .

Anakin Skywalker stood with Obi-Wan, his young face intense as he fought to hold back his tears.

A long, sustained drum roll traced the passage of the flames as they reduced Qui-Gon to spirit and ash. When the fire had taken him away, a flight of snowy doves was released into a crimson sunset. The birds rose in a flutter of wings and a splash of pale brilliance, winging softly away.

(. . .)

(Obi-Wan) looked down at Anakin. The boy was staring at the ashes on the funeral bier, crying softly.

He put his hand on one slim shoulder. "He is one with the Force, Anakin. You must let him go."

The boy shook his head. "I miss him."

Obi-Wan nodded. "I miss him, too, and I will remember him always. But he is gone."

Anakin wiped the tears from his face. "What will happen to me now?"

The hand tightened on the boy's shoulder. "I will train you, just as Qui-Gon would have done," Obi-Wan Kenobi said softly. "I am your new Master, Anakin. You will study with me, and you will become a Jedi Knight, I promise you."

A tear rolled down my cheek. "He's making good on his promise, Qui-Gon. You instructed a good man. I can only hope to be half as good a man as either of you." I felt anger welling up inside at the loss of Qui-Gon and the loss of my mother -- twice. I hated those who had taken them away from me; I hated the Sith and the Tusken Raiders with a deep passion. I looked up at the sky, a fire of revenge burning in my eyes.