Opening his eyes, Anakin blinked in confusion. He must have fallen asleep again. It seemed to be happening too often lately. The dream had felt different in a way that reminded him of the vision dreams he had been prone to as a child. However, those dreams used to foretell the future. This dream seemed to take place in the recent past, and involved events he hoped were nothing but a nightmare.
Maybe the dream had been a vision, but why would the entire nightmare be real in a vision? Visions were supposed to tell the truth, or part of it.
"Hey, are you all right? You were mumbling."
A young girl in a black student uniform looked at him curiously. Her dusty brown hair stuck out in odd places, as though she had recently been climbing trees or leaning her head out from a moving speeder to feel the wind.
She appeared to be about twelve years old, or maybe even younger. That was strange; Anakin had never seen such a young student here. Her aura in the Force had a hint of mischief to it that reminded him of Taveiran. Although there was caution, and strong shielding of her actual thoughts, he also sensed warmth and curiosity.
"What? I'm sorry, but where is this?"
"Still in the Center. Same old, same old. Except you haven't seen this part of it before, I guess. Welcome to Training Group 4B. It's probably not very different from your last one. The highest ranking person in charge is Lady Cynaiad, better known as the Womprat."
"I hate to ask, but where did that nickname come from?"
"Playing with dead animals tends to make her smell-- well, you can probably guess. Her personality isn't all that sweet and flowery either."
"And you call her that?
"Well, not to her face. I started calling her that when I was seven, and it kind of stuck. She'd have a fit if she knew. It's okay, though. She hardly ever leaves her den."
"You've been with these people for an awfully long time if you knew her when you were seven."
"Six, actually. I was kidnapped and and taken to the Shadow Academy when it just starting to be built."
"I don't think you've told me your name," Anakin said questioningly. "Mine is Anakin Solo."
"What in the heck happened to you?" she blurted. Her face turned red. "I mean..." she muttered, her voice trailing off.
What am I supposed to say to that?
"Uh, I meant to say my name is Kefa. Kefa Shanessen."
He suddenly had an intense sensation of being watched from behind. Turning to look, he found his gaze drawn to a figure that occupied the bench in the room's opposite corner.
The being was female and human, though it was a bit difficult to tell at first glance. Her hair was reddish-brown dyed with vibrant blue streaks. A gray metallic mask that hooked around the back of the neck covered most of her face, though eyes and mouth were left bare. The lower half of the mask was formed to resemble fanged jaws, and it gave the overall impression of a snarling animal. The watcher's age was impossible to guess at. Although her long limbs were lean and bony, there was no sign of adolescent awkwardness about her posture.
She looked as if she were ready to spring at him in a millisecond given any reason. Motionless, she observed Anakin with the intent stare of a wild predator.
"The paranoid one is Raina. You might want to call her Lady Agwara, though, to be safe." Kefa grinned at him, rolling her eyes. She didn't seem concerned by the attention; possibly she was used to it. Leaning over, she whispered, "Raina's not as mean as she looks. Don't worry."
Somehow, Anakin wasn't sure this was an accurate judgement.
"Want a tour of the place?" It wasn't his first choice of things to do right now, which would have been to stay where he was. Kefa looked like she was set on the idea, though. She must not have a chance to talk to new people very often.
Following as Kefa trotted purposefully around the room, he was introduced to about a dozen people so quickly that their names slipped his mind. The only one Anakin remembered for certain was Jarn Lians, who gave them a sullen glare as they passed.
They entered a door to the side of the room. "This is where we end up living most of the time." Her expression made it clear that this was a never-ending source of annoyance to Kefa. "The worst part is that Raina's a morning person. We'll be dragged in here when it's so early, the only things that should be awake are the moonflitters."
The group's practice room looked somewhat similar to the other one he'd been training in. A large box-shaped room, it was mostly featureless. Pieces of scrap jutting out of the wall would serve as handholds for climbing, and a few heavy, rectangular blocks lay scattered about the floor. These could be used for exercises in moving large objects with the Force, or for practice fighting on uneven ground.
The only difference Anakin could see was that the floor and parts of the walls were covered. Apparently there had been an attempt at cushioning the durasteel, though the materials used looked like pieces of junk that had been scrounged from trash rather than things intended for that use. The mismatched and shredded padding gave the room a feeling of personality that was disconcerting after months of seeing only bare gray metal.
In Group 4D, where he'd been placed before, those in charge had made it clear that they considered any kind of safety precautions to be wasted. The entire fourth section of groups included A through E. It was made up of students who had low levels of Force ability, or were unwilling or unable to become the competent Dark Jedi the training center was meant to produce. This was why many of Anakin's classmates had not been Darksiders, in spite of their situation. The instructors themselves were often considered to be failures in one way or another, and frustration over this might explain why some were unusually vicious even for supporters of Palpatine.
Now Kife was silent, and he could hear what sounded like young female voices speaking, but he couldn't tell what they were talking about. They were distant and strange, reminding him of the way his family's conversations had sometimes sounded when he was ill and feverish. Two indistinct figures appeared at the edge of his vision, and he thought he saw the outline of a severed arm lying on the floor. Startled, he jerked his head to the side to look, but it went out of focus.
Was he imagining all of this?Anakin wondered if anything he saw now bore even a slight resemblance to what was actually occurring.
The... other things that had happened today hadn't been real, had they? None of that seemed to have anything to do with what he had just witnessed, but then why had he seen it? It was yet another of too many events that made it seem as though reality had gone completely off course.
This new training group was an enigma. Everything Kife had told and shown him only created more questions; the apparent leader who was rarely even seen by most of the trainees, the unusual practice room, the intimidating Dark Jedi who Kefa called by what must be her original name, and Kefa herself, alive and well despite her irreverence and young age.
Many strange things appeared to be going on, and Anakin was not sure where the illusions began or ended.