Reflection Saga:
Part 5
Written by: Do I REALLY still have to say it by now!?
I seem to be saying less and less...IS THERE SOMETHING WRONG WITH THIS!?
O_-
Well, I promise that this is going to be longer and much better than the
last one. Want to know why? Well, let's just say this is the chapter that I
put a PG13 label on. ^-^
*****
"Beep! Time to get up! Beep! Time to get up!"
Yaro fumbled around for his alarm clock, grumbling the whole time about 'them damned annoying droids'. Even after twelve years of rising before the break of dawn to train, he still needed something to get him awake.
"Beep! Time to-" the singsong voice was cut off with a press of a button. Yaro sleepily got dressed, not even fully awake. It was a bad habit he had never been able to shake off.
Yaro no longer wore the clothes or hairstyle of a Padawan; just over two years ago, he had passed his trials and was now a Jedi Knight. His robe, now accompanied by a scarf of the same color, was still crimson and down to his feet. His white tunic stuck out from under his father's belt, which he still wore with great pride. His dusty brown slacks were tight around his hips, but widened at the hems to hide his feet and allow air flow through them to cool him off when needed, but made of a very comfortable and warm material. His lightsaber, a little more battle- damaged, hung from his belt at hand's range for quick activation.
His dark-brown hair, instead of braided and pulled back into a pigtail, was now shoulder length and very thick and straight. He couldn't remember how many times he had been teased by Ilene that he had stolen some poor, innocent baby Wookie's fur and glued it to his skull. At 427, Yaro was older than most and had matured greatly since his tutelage under Yoda, but still had the curious and friendly gleam to his bronze-green eyes and his sarcasm was as witty as ever.
He walked outside of his room, occasionally waving at passing by Jedi. Some Jedi waved cheerfully back, but all Padawans smiled at the presence of the tiny man. It was no secret Yaro loved the presence of children, even though he had never taken a Padawan of his own.
"Good morning, Yaro!" Yaro's ear leaped upward at the sound of an all- too familiar voice. He turned around and, sure enough, there stood Yaddle. She, too, no longer had the look of a nervous and unsure apprentice, but a Jedi who carried herself with flair and confidence. Her red hair bounced along her back as she walked, wild and free like a living thing. Her yellow eyes danced at the sight of him, almost as if they were teasing him. Her white shirt and skirt flowed around her, hiding her feet from sight. Like Yaro, she wore a vest and light scarf, but instead of red, they were a taupe color. A small, thin belt linked by two metal rings circled around her waist.
Only about a year after Yaro became Yoda's Padawan, Polvin Kut and Yaddle had been involved in a violent war on a distant planet, and Polvin Kut had been murdered. Yaddle had been devastated, and had become cheerless, even when she was given the status of Jedi Knight. She was still feeling the effects of not being able to save her Master. But in recent years, she had become head of the Librarian's Assembly of the Archives, and Yaro was finding it harder and harder to drag her from the holocrons, scrolls, and tomes she tended to. She was so much happier, and Yaro was very glad. Seeing her so depressed had devastated him.
"Good morning to you too, Yaddle." He smirked his infamous, lopsided smile. "You'd better get back to the Archives; I think I saw a volume run away."
She smiled right back at him. Oh, how he loved that smile. Made him think of sunshine after nights of endless dark. "Yaro, do you plan on ever acting your age?"
"Hm. Maybe when I'm my grandfather's age, maybe."
Yaddle laughed, and Yaro had a thought of distant chimes. "I didn't think as much. Even after twelve years of knowing you, your actions are still unpredictable as a storm on Yavin 4."
"Well, that's what makes him interesting!" Ilene, Trixis, and Fibril came up from behind the pair, all grinning like children caught pulling a silly prank. Yaro smiled at his best friends lovingly. They hadn't changed one bit, save their looks.
Ilene punched Yaro lightly on the cheek. "'Sides, if we didn't have him around, who would we make fun of when he loses his lightsaber duels?"
When the laughter had subsided, Yaro said fake-angrily, "What do you mean lose? I wipe the floor with your lightsaber-wielding butts every time, and you know it!"
Trixis chuckled softly. "Yeah, yeah, we know! We're just giving you trouble, and you know it, Yaro. No need to get huffy."
Yaro inhaled, making his chest puff out and his ears perk up to their highest. "Who's getting huffy?"
The whole group bust out in laughter again, catching a few stares from the Padawans who weren't used to them yet. Wiping a small tear from her eye, Ilene said, "Well, we'd better be going." She jerked a thumb at Trixis and Fibril. "We have to go to Bakura and settle some kind of trade dispute. Should be back before the week's over." The trio then walked off as Yaddle and Yaro bade them good luck.
After the others had left, the pair walked off to the Archives. Once there, Yaddle became fidgety and excited. "Yaddle? What's eating you?" Yaro asked curiously.
"Come with me; I want to show you something I found." She pulled him towards one of the highest shelves, towing him up the ladder. "But you cannot show anyone."
"Okay! Just show me before the suspension and this height kills me." Yaro had never been a fan of elevations.
Her grin now replaced by a solemn look, Yaddle pulled out a rather old-looking book that had probably seen better centuries. It was covered with inches of dust and grim before it was all wiped away with a wipe of Yaddle's hand. "Get down." Yaro slid down the ladder and allowed Yaddle to get down and sit at a nearby table.
"Look at this; you won't believe it." She opened it, carefully but quickly turned its crisp and crinkled pages. Just as Yaro began to lose interest, she said quietly, "Here!" She pointed to a rather long page, describing Force techniques. "Yeah, so what?"
"Look at this part." She pointed to a smaller, almost blotted out, string of sentences. Sighing, Yaro read it over, mumbling under his breath. "Lessee...forbidden Jedi Arts, yeah, heard of those...moricho...slowly stops bodily functions...from inside...WHOA!" He turned to Yaddle, a bewildered look on his face. "You-You found the forbidden Jedi Art of moricho!?" Moricho, one of the most dangerous techniques a Jedi could use with the Force, was number one on the forbidden Jedi Arts; skills that could only be used in anger and therefore of the Dark Side. Only the Sith had ever used them.
Moricho slowly, but surely, stopped the functions of the major organs of the victim, torturing the person/persons until they died. It was view as a cruel and inhuman death, and no Jedi that had known it hadn't become a Sith.
"Yaddle, you could get in so much trouble for this! Yoda, and Polvin Kut, and Hismonia...yeesh! Do you realize what they would do to you if they found out you had this! You'd be expelled from the Librarian's Assembly, no! The whole Jedi Order!" Grabbing the book from her and dashing up the ladder to put it back, he said, "Let's just leave it there and pretend we never, never ever ever saw it, okay?"
Yaddle suddenly seemed very nervous. "Actually...Yaro..."
Then he realized. "Oh no, you mean..."
"...I don't need that book. I can do the moricho technique."
Yaro about fell off the ladder. As he stepped down it two steps at a time, he said quietly, "Yaddle. Are you telling me you know the most forbidden Jedi Art anyone can think of!?"
She didn't answer him at first, wringing her hands. "Yes," she said finally.
Yaro had never, ever, been so furious at her. But then he realized what would happen if the Council or anybody else found out that she could harness that kind of power... "Come on." He grabbed her by the arm and started to pull her towards her room.
*****
"Yaddle, why didn't you tell me earlier!? You always ask me what I think before you do stuff!" Yaro was pacing the floor of Yaddle's room. She hadn't thought he would panic this badly.
She sat down on her bed, and spread her hands out, trying to make him calm down and understand. "Yaro, listen- I'm never going to use that kind of power to harm someone, and you and I both know it!"
He turned his back to her, shaking his head. "I know, I know..." His voice trailed off, and he sighed. "I'm just worried about you." He turned back around, and Yaddle could see that he truly meant it. "If-If the Council knew that you could use a forbidden Art...Yaddle, I'd never see you again!" His voice began to break. "If I...if I lost you..."
Yaro sat down beside her, taking her hand into his. She could feel his presence burning with distress, concern, yearning, and anxiety through just that single touch. It made her skin crawl with pleasure and fear. When he didn't speak, she whispered softly, "Yaro?"
"I love you, Yaddle. I really do." He looked at her, and Yaddle could see passion and longing in his gaze, blazing like a raging fire that none could tame. He's not lying...she thought. He really...
Then she snapped back to the real world. "Yaro, that's not allowed, and you know it. It's as forbidden as my ability to use moricho."
"But you did it anyway. You taught yourself moricho, against all the dangers and risks you were taking." He smiled softly, sadly. "Why can't I do the same, just to make it even?"
"Because my learning of a forbidden Art only affects me, but if we...love...then we would both be expelled from the Order of the Jedi." She turned her head away, looking down at the floor. "There's just too many risks."
"Risks are fun. Life would certainly be boring without the occasional risks." There was that smile again, the one she had secretly fallen in love with for twelve years. "I think that risks are tests in disguise, really. To see if we can overcome them, and carry on."
"You sound like Yoda."
"He must be rubbing off on me. Spent too much time with the old fart."
She laughed, almost a snort of disbelief. "Oh really? That 'old fart's' the best Jedi you're ever going to find."
Yaro gripped her hand harder, and this time she squeezed back with equal force. "I don't think so. I'm sitting with her." He laughed, and suddenly rushed his life force to meet hers. It was a gesture the two of them had started a long time ago, whenever one or both of them was nervous or afraid. It flowed over her like a great tidal wave, sweeping away all her cares and fears. Playfully, she pushed it back at him just as hard, then allowed her presence to mold with his, swirling and dancing like an intricate dance. All thoughts, worries, and cares slipped from her mind, all that mattered was not letting go...
*****
"Yaro. Yaro, you need to wake up." Yaddle whispered softly in Yaro's ear, causing it to tickle.
"Yeah?"
She stroked his arm with a claw, making his skin tingle and rise in goosebumps. "I should get going. It's almost evening already."
"What?" He sat up and looked at the window. Sure enough, the light of sunset mixed with the still dark of night and lights of the planet-city of Coruscant spilled through the glass, giving the room a soft and comfortable feeling. Yaddle was already dressed and walking out the door. "Alright then. I suppose I'll see you later?"
She smiled more broadly than he had ever seen her smile. "Yes. That's a promise." The door closed behind her, leaving Yaro alone. After a few moments, he roused himself and got dressed. He glanced at a nearby clock. It was very late; no one would see him coming out of Yaddle's room. At least he hoped.
Poking his head out of the door, he scanned the hallways for any signs of life. No one in sight, time to go to the library and find my lover, he thought slyly. He creeped and tiptoed down the stairs leading down to the Archives when he felt a sharp tremor of pain and fear in the Force. Before he had time to think of it, it had disappeared as quickly as it came. But he knew it had come from the Archives. Yaddle? He stretched out to her mind, and found a pool of terror and hurt. "Yaddle!" He ran as fast as possible towards the library, fear growing in his heart. He yanked his lightsaber out of his belt; its yellow blade humming madly as he sped towards Yaddle's presence.
Yaro! Yaro, help! He suddenly heard Yaddle cry out for him in his mind. Fully terrified, his blood surging with adrenaline, he raced down the aisles to her presence. As he drew closer, Yaro could feel Yaddle's pain and fear in his body, making him want to cry out. "Yaddle, where are you!" He stopped in a path, hearing Jedi stirring up in the spires of the Temple.
Suddenly, a scream sounded through the library, searing like fire in Yaro's head and echoing off of the walls. A whistling sound suddenly exploded like a clap of thunder in a hurricane resonated shortly after, ringing in Yaro's ears. "Yaddle!" He ran into the center of the Archives and gasped.
Jocasta Nu, a young Padawan learner and librarian assistant, lay in a puddle of her own blood on the floor. Her nose, eyes, and ears were bleeding heavily, pumping out the hot liquid that gave her life with every beat of her heart. Seeing Yaro, she cried out in a thin, hoarse voice, "Behind you, Master Yaro!"
Suddenly, before Yaro even had time to react, a second clap of thunder resounded in the chamber and Yaro fell into darkness, at first consumed by pain and confusion, then felt nothing.
*****
Yaro thrashed wildly in his sleep. He was caught in a dream, or rather a nightmare. Yaddle was in danger; he could sense her fear, anger, and desperate need to escape as if the feelings were his own. No, wait. Something was different. He just didn't feel Yaddle's presence...but a second? It was like a mix of Yaro's and Yaddle's presences of the Force. But what did that mean? Yaddle stood in the middle of a dark pool, scared and alone. She didn't know if he was alive, if he had been killed by whatever was scaring her so badly.
He knew if he could just cry out to her, reach out to touch her, even for just a moment, she would be comforted. But the paralysis of his dream rose up, tying him down to the ground. Suddenly, Yaddle began to fall into the floor, and all her fears gave way to nothing; all of her emotions just disappeared. The second presence also disappeared without a sound. He screamed, but his voice was as silent as death itself. He watched his friend -nay, his love- sink away from him. No, he had to save her, had to find her, help her! Had to-
"Yaro! Yaro, wake up!" Something was shaking him gently but roughly enough to disorient him. The dream vanished into thin air, along with Yaro's chances of finding out why Yaddle was so afraid, and where she was. He gasped out in fear, and looked up into the faces of Trixis, Ilene, and Fibril. He was lying in the infirmary where Yaddle had taken him when they had first met. Jocasta Nu laid three beds down, her face wrapped in bandages.
"Oh, Yaro!" Trixis sounded very relieved, but there was a strain to her voice. Like she had been crying for many hours. "We were all so worried about you! You've been knocked out for four days now, and-"
"Where's Yaddle?" Yaro asked sternly. His head, now that he was awake, almost blinded him with pain He could feel bandages wrapped around his head and taped onto his back, which stung with every breath he took. But he didn't care; all that mattered was that Yaddle was safe, that she wasn't in danger of any kind. Nothing mattered but that she was safe. Nothing.
When no one answered him, he asked again, softly but hard, "Where is Yaddle?" Again, no answer. He searched the eyes of the friends he had known for twelve years. They were hiding something from him; he didn't even have to hunt through their minds to find out. "Where is she?"
Fibril rubbed his hands together nervously. "Yaddle? Oh, I..." His voice trailed off, giving no answer. All three hung their heads as Yaro glared at them. "I will repeat myself only one more time," Yaro said almost threateningly. "Where...is...Ya-"
"Here, Yaddle is not." Yoda suddenly appeared in the doorway. His face was very grave, filled with sorrow and pain. "Kidnapped, Yaddle has been."
*****
~Sorry to leave ya hanging!! :'( Again, please R&R!!
*****
"Beep! Time to get up! Beep! Time to get up!"
Yaro fumbled around for his alarm clock, grumbling the whole time about 'them damned annoying droids'. Even after twelve years of rising before the break of dawn to train, he still needed something to get him awake.
"Beep! Time to-" the singsong voice was cut off with a press of a button. Yaro sleepily got dressed, not even fully awake. It was a bad habit he had never been able to shake off.
Yaro no longer wore the clothes or hairstyle of a Padawan; just over two years ago, he had passed his trials and was now a Jedi Knight. His robe, now accompanied by a scarf of the same color, was still crimson and down to his feet. His white tunic stuck out from under his father's belt, which he still wore with great pride. His dusty brown slacks were tight around his hips, but widened at the hems to hide his feet and allow air flow through them to cool him off when needed, but made of a very comfortable and warm material. His lightsaber, a little more battle- damaged, hung from his belt at hand's range for quick activation.
His dark-brown hair, instead of braided and pulled back into a pigtail, was now shoulder length and very thick and straight. He couldn't remember how many times he had been teased by Ilene that he had stolen some poor, innocent baby Wookie's fur and glued it to his skull. At 427, Yaro was older than most and had matured greatly since his tutelage under Yoda, but still had the curious and friendly gleam to his bronze-green eyes and his sarcasm was as witty as ever.
He walked outside of his room, occasionally waving at passing by Jedi. Some Jedi waved cheerfully back, but all Padawans smiled at the presence of the tiny man. It was no secret Yaro loved the presence of children, even though he had never taken a Padawan of his own.
"Good morning, Yaro!" Yaro's ear leaped upward at the sound of an all- too familiar voice. He turned around and, sure enough, there stood Yaddle. She, too, no longer had the look of a nervous and unsure apprentice, but a Jedi who carried herself with flair and confidence. Her red hair bounced along her back as she walked, wild and free like a living thing. Her yellow eyes danced at the sight of him, almost as if they were teasing him. Her white shirt and skirt flowed around her, hiding her feet from sight. Like Yaro, she wore a vest and light scarf, but instead of red, they were a taupe color. A small, thin belt linked by two metal rings circled around her waist.
Only about a year after Yaro became Yoda's Padawan, Polvin Kut and Yaddle had been involved in a violent war on a distant planet, and Polvin Kut had been murdered. Yaddle had been devastated, and had become cheerless, even when she was given the status of Jedi Knight. She was still feeling the effects of not being able to save her Master. But in recent years, she had become head of the Librarian's Assembly of the Archives, and Yaro was finding it harder and harder to drag her from the holocrons, scrolls, and tomes she tended to. She was so much happier, and Yaro was very glad. Seeing her so depressed had devastated him.
"Good morning to you too, Yaddle." He smirked his infamous, lopsided smile. "You'd better get back to the Archives; I think I saw a volume run away."
She smiled right back at him. Oh, how he loved that smile. Made him think of sunshine after nights of endless dark. "Yaro, do you plan on ever acting your age?"
"Hm. Maybe when I'm my grandfather's age, maybe."
Yaddle laughed, and Yaro had a thought of distant chimes. "I didn't think as much. Even after twelve years of knowing you, your actions are still unpredictable as a storm on Yavin 4."
"Well, that's what makes him interesting!" Ilene, Trixis, and Fibril came up from behind the pair, all grinning like children caught pulling a silly prank. Yaro smiled at his best friends lovingly. They hadn't changed one bit, save their looks.
Ilene punched Yaro lightly on the cheek. "'Sides, if we didn't have him around, who would we make fun of when he loses his lightsaber duels?"
When the laughter had subsided, Yaro said fake-angrily, "What do you mean lose? I wipe the floor with your lightsaber-wielding butts every time, and you know it!"
Trixis chuckled softly. "Yeah, yeah, we know! We're just giving you trouble, and you know it, Yaro. No need to get huffy."
Yaro inhaled, making his chest puff out and his ears perk up to their highest. "Who's getting huffy?"
The whole group bust out in laughter again, catching a few stares from the Padawans who weren't used to them yet. Wiping a small tear from her eye, Ilene said, "Well, we'd better be going." She jerked a thumb at Trixis and Fibril. "We have to go to Bakura and settle some kind of trade dispute. Should be back before the week's over." The trio then walked off as Yaddle and Yaro bade them good luck.
After the others had left, the pair walked off to the Archives. Once there, Yaddle became fidgety and excited. "Yaddle? What's eating you?" Yaro asked curiously.
"Come with me; I want to show you something I found." She pulled him towards one of the highest shelves, towing him up the ladder. "But you cannot show anyone."
"Okay! Just show me before the suspension and this height kills me." Yaro had never been a fan of elevations.
Her grin now replaced by a solemn look, Yaddle pulled out a rather old-looking book that had probably seen better centuries. It was covered with inches of dust and grim before it was all wiped away with a wipe of Yaddle's hand. "Get down." Yaro slid down the ladder and allowed Yaddle to get down and sit at a nearby table.
"Look at this; you won't believe it." She opened it, carefully but quickly turned its crisp and crinkled pages. Just as Yaro began to lose interest, she said quietly, "Here!" She pointed to a rather long page, describing Force techniques. "Yeah, so what?"
"Look at this part." She pointed to a smaller, almost blotted out, string of sentences. Sighing, Yaro read it over, mumbling under his breath. "Lessee...forbidden Jedi Arts, yeah, heard of those...moricho...slowly stops bodily functions...from inside...WHOA!" He turned to Yaddle, a bewildered look on his face. "You-You found the forbidden Jedi Art of moricho!?" Moricho, one of the most dangerous techniques a Jedi could use with the Force, was number one on the forbidden Jedi Arts; skills that could only be used in anger and therefore of the Dark Side. Only the Sith had ever used them.
Moricho slowly, but surely, stopped the functions of the major organs of the victim, torturing the person/persons until they died. It was view as a cruel and inhuman death, and no Jedi that had known it hadn't become a Sith.
"Yaddle, you could get in so much trouble for this! Yoda, and Polvin Kut, and Hismonia...yeesh! Do you realize what they would do to you if they found out you had this! You'd be expelled from the Librarian's Assembly, no! The whole Jedi Order!" Grabbing the book from her and dashing up the ladder to put it back, he said, "Let's just leave it there and pretend we never, never ever ever saw it, okay?"
Yaddle suddenly seemed very nervous. "Actually...Yaro..."
Then he realized. "Oh no, you mean..."
"...I don't need that book. I can do the moricho technique."
Yaro about fell off the ladder. As he stepped down it two steps at a time, he said quietly, "Yaddle. Are you telling me you know the most forbidden Jedi Art anyone can think of!?"
She didn't answer him at first, wringing her hands. "Yes," she said finally.
Yaro had never, ever, been so furious at her. But then he realized what would happen if the Council or anybody else found out that she could harness that kind of power... "Come on." He grabbed her by the arm and started to pull her towards her room.
*****
"Yaddle, why didn't you tell me earlier!? You always ask me what I think before you do stuff!" Yaro was pacing the floor of Yaddle's room. She hadn't thought he would panic this badly.
She sat down on her bed, and spread her hands out, trying to make him calm down and understand. "Yaro, listen- I'm never going to use that kind of power to harm someone, and you and I both know it!"
He turned his back to her, shaking his head. "I know, I know..." His voice trailed off, and he sighed. "I'm just worried about you." He turned back around, and Yaddle could see that he truly meant it. "If-If the Council knew that you could use a forbidden Art...Yaddle, I'd never see you again!" His voice began to break. "If I...if I lost you..."
Yaro sat down beside her, taking her hand into his. She could feel his presence burning with distress, concern, yearning, and anxiety through just that single touch. It made her skin crawl with pleasure and fear. When he didn't speak, she whispered softly, "Yaro?"
"I love you, Yaddle. I really do." He looked at her, and Yaddle could see passion and longing in his gaze, blazing like a raging fire that none could tame. He's not lying...she thought. He really...
Then she snapped back to the real world. "Yaro, that's not allowed, and you know it. It's as forbidden as my ability to use moricho."
"But you did it anyway. You taught yourself moricho, against all the dangers and risks you were taking." He smiled softly, sadly. "Why can't I do the same, just to make it even?"
"Because my learning of a forbidden Art only affects me, but if we...love...then we would both be expelled from the Order of the Jedi." She turned her head away, looking down at the floor. "There's just too many risks."
"Risks are fun. Life would certainly be boring without the occasional risks." There was that smile again, the one she had secretly fallen in love with for twelve years. "I think that risks are tests in disguise, really. To see if we can overcome them, and carry on."
"You sound like Yoda."
"He must be rubbing off on me. Spent too much time with the old fart."
She laughed, almost a snort of disbelief. "Oh really? That 'old fart's' the best Jedi you're ever going to find."
Yaro gripped her hand harder, and this time she squeezed back with equal force. "I don't think so. I'm sitting with her." He laughed, and suddenly rushed his life force to meet hers. It was a gesture the two of them had started a long time ago, whenever one or both of them was nervous or afraid. It flowed over her like a great tidal wave, sweeping away all her cares and fears. Playfully, she pushed it back at him just as hard, then allowed her presence to mold with his, swirling and dancing like an intricate dance. All thoughts, worries, and cares slipped from her mind, all that mattered was not letting go...
*****
"Yaro. Yaro, you need to wake up." Yaddle whispered softly in Yaro's ear, causing it to tickle.
"Yeah?"
She stroked his arm with a claw, making his skin tingle and rise in goosebumps. "I should get going. It's almost evening already."
"What?" He sat up and looked at the window. Sure enough, the light of sunset mixed with the still dark of night and lights of the planet-city of Coruscant spilled through the glass, giving the room a soft and comfortable feeling. Yaddle was already dressed and walking out the door. "Alright then. I suppose I'll see you later?"
She smiled more broadly than he had ever seen her smile. "Yes. That's a promise." The door closed behind her, leaving Yaro alone. After a few moments, he roused himself and got dressed. He glanced at a nearby clock. It was very late; no one would see him coming out of Yaddle's room. At least he hoped.
Poking his head out of the door, he scanned the hallways for any signs of life. No one in sight, time to go to the library and find my lover, he thought slyly. He creeped and tiptoed down the stairs leading down to the Archives when he felt a sharp tremor of pain and fear in the Force. Before he had time to think of it, it had disappeared as quickly as it came. But he knew it had come from the Archives. Yaddle? He stretched out to her mind, and found a pool of terror and hurt. "Yaddle!" He ran as fast as possible towards the library, fear growing in his heart. He yanked his lightsaber out of his belt; its yellow blade humming madly as he sped towards Yaddle's presence.
Yaro! Yaro, help! He suddenly heard Yaddle cry out for him in his mind. Fully terrified, his blood surging with adrenaline, he raced down the aisles to her presence. As he drew closer, Yaro could feel Yaddle's pain and fear in his body, making him want to cry out. "Yaddle, where are you!" He stopped in a path, hearing Jedi stirring up in the spires of the Temple.
Suddenly, a scream sounded through the library, searing like fire in Yaro's head and echoing off of the walls. A whistling sound suddenly exploded like a clap of thunder in a hurricane resonated shortly after, ringing in Yaro's ears. "Yaddle!" He ran into the center of the Archives and gasped.
Jocasta Nu, a young Padawan learner and librarian assistant, lay in a puddle of her own blood on the floor. Her nose, eyes, and ears were bleeding heavily, pumping out the hot liquid that gave her life with every beat of her heart. Seeing Yaro, she cried out in a thin, hoarse voice, "Behind you, Master Yaro!"
Suddenly, before Yaro even had time to react, a second clap of thunder resounded in the chamber and Yaro fell into darkness, at first consumed by pain and confusion, then felt nothing.
*****
Yaro thrashed wildly in his sleep. He was caught in a dream, or rather a nightmare. Yaddle was in danger; he could sense her fear, anger, and desperate need to escape as if the feelings were his own. No, wait. Something was different. He just didn't feel Yaddle's presence...but a second? It was like a mix of Yaro's and Yaddle's presences of the Force. But what did that mean? Yaddle stood in the middle of a dark pool, scared and alone. She didn't know if he was alive, if he had been killed by whatever was scaring her so badly.
He knew if he could just cry out to her, reach out to touch her, even for just a moment, she would be comforted. But the paralysis of his dream rose up, tying him down to the ground. Suddenly, Yaddle began to fall into the floor, and all her fears gave way to nothing; all of her emotions just disappeared. The second presence also disappeared without a sound. He screamed, but his voice was as silent as death itself. He watched his friend -nay, his love- sink away from him. No, he had to save her, had to find her, help her! Had to-
"Yaro! Yaro, wake up!" Something was shaking him gently but roughly enough to disorient him. The dream vanished into thin air, along with Yaro's chances of finding out why Yaddle was so afraid, and where she was. He gasped out in fear, and looked up into the faces of Trixis, Ilene, and Fibril. He was lying in the infirmary where Yaddle had taken him when they had first met. Jocasta Nu laid three beds down, her face wrapped in bandages.
"Oh, Yaro!" Trixis sounded very relieved, but there was a strain to her voice. Like she had been crying for many hours. "We were all so worried about you! You've been knocked out for four days now, and-"
"Where's Yaddle?" Yaro asked sternly. His head, now that he was awake, almost blinded him with pain He could feel bandages wrapped around his head and taped onto his back, which stung with every breath he took. But he didn't care; all that mattered was that Yaddle was safe, that she wasn't in danger of any kind. Nothing mattered but that she was safe. Nothing.
When no one answered him, he asked again, softly but hard, "Where is Yaddle?" Again, no answer. He searched the eyes of the friends he had known for twelve years. They were hiding something from him; he didn't even have to hunt through their minds to find out. "Where is she?"
Fibril rubbed his hands together nervously. "Yaddle? Oh, I..." His voice trailed off, giving no answer. All three hung their heads as Yaro glared at them. "I will repeat myself only one more time," Yaro said almost threateningly. "Where...is...Ya-"
"Here, Yaddle is not." Yoda suddenly appeared in the doorway. His face was very grave, filled with sorrow and pain. "Kidnapped, Yaddle has been."
*****
~Sorry to leave ya hanging!! :'( Again, please R&R!!