Disclaimer- All hail George Lucas, the brilliant man who dreamed up these awesome characters.

A/N- This is my first posted Star Wars story. It is a vignette from Obi-Wan's POV as he watches Qui-Gon's funeral pyre burn. I wrote it for English class (go ahead, laugh) as a creative project following the memoir Falling Leaves. Each chapter incorporates a Chinese proverb. Our assignment was to write a short story with one of the proverbs as the lesson. I hope everyone (including my teacher) likes it.

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Each Day Passes Like A Year

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Each day passes like a year; time moves so slowly. It has been three days since my Master was slain in front of me. Three days since I lost the only father I have ever known. It feels like a lifetime.

I am Obi-Wan Kenobi, a Jedi Knight. Three days ago, I was still a Padawan Learner, an apprentice. Qui-Gon Jinn was my Master, my mentor. For over twelve years we worked together. I am the person I am today because of Qui-Gon.

This planet is in celebration of their liberation, yet I am in mourning of my loss. The irony of it would strike my heart were it not frozen in my chest.

As I stand here in the Theed temple where heroes are mourned, watching the funeral pyre consume my Master's body, I am filled with regret. It did not have to be this way.

Three days ago, Qui-Gon and I fought the Sith Lord called Darth Maul in the power station of Theed, royal city of the planet Naboo. Maul had a double-bladed lightsaber, while Master and I both wielded the traditional single-bladed weapon. I can recall with perfect clarity the precise moment the Sith kicked me off of the railing, and Qui-Gon was forced to keep fighting alone.

They both fought fiercely, neither realizing they were nearing the disposal pit for the power station's residue. By the time I had recovered enough to follow, the laser walls in the service corridor had activated, and we were all trapped, separate from each other.

The next rotation of the laser walls placed Qui-Gon and Darth Maul in the room with the disposal pit, and me trapped behind the last. If I had only gotten there faster, I would not have been forced to watch my Master get one end of the double-bladed red lightsaber shoved through his stomach.

Time seemed to slow to a crawl as he dropped to his knees, then fell to his side. For a moment, I thought he cried out; I did not recognize the sound of my own voice as I shouted my denial.

It was perhaps one standard minute before the laser doors opened again, but it seemed much, much longer as I stood there staring at the body of my fallen friend.

When I finally got through, I betrayed everything I was ever taught in my twenty-five years as a Jedi: Jedi do not kill in anger, they kill only to save lives. Jedi do not seek revenge, they seek only justice. Yet as I fought the Sith, I was empowered by my desire for revenge on the man who killed Qui-Gon; I was driven by my anger.

Darth Maul knocked me into the residue pit and I was saved only by grabbing onto a rail on the side. He kicked my lightsaber down as well. We both knew it was only a matter of seconds before he finished me. Those few seconds allowed me to reach inside myself for the white light of the Force. Drawing it around me like a cloak, I sprang out of the pit, summoning Qui-Gon's lightsaber to my hand. Before I even landed I activated the green blade and cleaved Darth Maul neatly in two.

I did not bother to watch him fall into the pit, instead I ran to my mentor's side. He was still alive, but barely. As I cradled his head and shoulders in my arms, he said what I did not want to believe: It's too late.

That is what it all came down to in the end, I was too late to save him.

I fumbled for words. What is there to say to the only father one have ever loved as he lay in your arms, dying? He spoke first, asking me to train the boy. Anakin Skywalker, whom Qui-Gon believed to be the Chosen One, destined to bring balance to the Force. I agreed without hesitation, desperate to ease his pain.

He asked me to train Anakin because he knew that, despite my own misgivings, I would agree. He asked me because he could trust me to keep my word.

Those were his final words to me: Train him.

Now I stand here with the nine year old boy at my side, watching the blaze. Soon Qui-Gon Jinn's body will be gone, and all I will have left is his lightsaber, my rock, and a multitude of memories: some happy, some bittersweet, some humorous. I shall treasure them all.

Without my Master in my life, each day takes an age to go by. Not one passes where I am not reminded of him, yet each time the wrenching pain takes me by surprise. People always say that time heals everything, but how can the aeons that most call days heal this gaping rent in my heart?

I know I must move forward. The years of my life stretch in front of me, seeming to encompass an indeterminable amount of time. I do not relish the thought of spending it alone.

All I can do is train Anakin. I can now see the potential in him that Qui-Gon did. He will be my Padawan. It is the last thing I can do for my Master. Having failed him in life, I will not fail him in death.

Each day passes like a year; time moves so slowly. It has been three days since my father was slain in front of me.

It has been a lifetime.

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A/N- For the record, I do not think Obi-Wan betrayed the Jedi teachings when he killed Maul. In fact, I laugh maniacally every time I see that part of the Phantom Menace where Maul gets sliced. I was only trying to look at things from a different perspective. To someone brought up to think that revenge and anger are taboo, it might seem that way. I hope everyone enjoyed. Constructive criticism welcome.