A/N:
Killer Goldfish: I believe in fleshing out the characters, and setting the scene, before I move on to the story proper – so it might feel that way…but that's the way I write it. Yes, I use the smilies with a purpose. It never hurts to smile. :-))))))))))
Lady Ivy Castillo: Glad you liked. Your poor parents:-) Now, however, we begin to move away from humour – of sorts.
Seven: I'm the fortunate one. :) Thank you, little One. Also, I'm working on the next chapter for '…Elysia'. That please you?
K.Elessar: Strange but awesome planet, indeed. Now, for the further adventures of Captain Qui-Gon and his able right-hand, Obi-Wan…
ForsakenOn: And the next chapter's here. :)
cubbiblu88: I love Obi too. And here's more.
Shadow: More you will have…
Awreel: Thanks for reading! The JA means 'Jedi Apprentice' series – the time period spanning Obi-Wan Kenobi's apprenticeship with Qui-Gon Jinn, and leading up to 'The Phantom Menace'. It's the timeline I dabble in most. :)
Estel Baggins: Thank you. :)
amber75: The mystery will be revealed in the following chapters…starting with this one. :)
Myrielle: Wow, thank you. The banter is something that flows easily – perhaps because that's the way I see them. But I'm really glad it comes across just the way I visualise it.
Stranded Stargazer: Welcome! Obi's about twenty-three in this – I mentioned it in the first chapter, I think. Enjoy the ride:)
V
In Telona, the fourth month of the Most Illustrious Mjek the magnificent, a white beam had come forth to raise hopes in the hearts of the Meekest Tribes of Mandalain. And a Sun had been born.
He knew this with certainty, partly because it was so inscribed in the seventh scroll of Tybus the Sixth—and partly because T'shar was so certain of its authenticity. And she was the expert, after all.
"It's very difficult to know," she'd said. "So very difficult. And that's why we have to check, cross-check, double and triple-check."
"Yes, Archivist T'shar."
"It isn't necessary that we believe them, or about the chances of whether the prophecies might come true. The scrolls exist, and that is all that matters."
"Of course."
Her eyes had looked at him then, their violet hue deepening. "Are you mocking me, padawan?"
"Pardon…? No, certainly not. I was just…agreeing with you."
"You know enough about the Mandalain scrolls to agree with me, then? Perhaps you know enough to disagree too."
That was when alarm had begun to spike through his mind. "Archivist T'shar, I have no intention of antagonizing you. I was just…commenting."
"It isn't within your power to antagonize me, Padawan Kenobi."
"I apologize if I have offended you, Madame. It was not my intention to do so."
The lines around her eyes softened slightly. "Your enthusiasm will be your undoing, padawan. Learn this from me—and learn this well. Ours is to do, and to think of nothing else." She looked at him pityingly. "Not an easy lesson to learn at the best of times, or for the brightest student…and I suspect you will find it more difficult than most."
A strange feeling had assailed him, then. A feeling of remorse, panic…and a thread, the faintest thread of anger. The last increased his alarm a notch. "Our paths are different, Madame. I imagine we shall make use of different tactics to achieve our goals."
Her eyes had hardened again. "You have been ill-taught. Were I your master…" She shook her head slightly. "It is true that our paths are different. And I am glad."
He bent his head, under the pretext of examining a scroll, with fingers that shook slightly. "It is not my wish to offend you."
"You are defensive, and I'm not surprised." She stood up, clasping her cloak more securely around her. "If I were you, I would request a session with a Master well-trained in the philosophies given by the Code, and ask to be explained them in great detail."
"Yes, Archivist T'shar." Argument was useless, he saw.
She nodded graciously. "May the Force aid you in finding your path. It's obvious that you will need all the help you can get."
He had excused himself then, and ignoring her obvious disapproval, had walked out of the cavernous room, wishing desperately for a breath of air. And sunk to his knees, hoping for aid. A sign. Something. Anything.
A gust of air blasted itself into him and he felt himself fall back on the stones, gasping.
Master.
Help.
Help, help, help…
He felt his shoulder being shaken—not hard, but with a firm grip. "Obi-Wan, up. Now."
His eyes flew open involuntarily, and he found himself staring into intense blue eyes that were frowning into his—with worry?
"It's all wrong," he murmured weakly, mind still caught in between the world of dreams and reality. "It's all wrong. Isn't it?"
He saw the lines around his master's eyes deepen. "What is, padawan?"
Obi-Wan blinked. The wind. There was no wind. He took a deep breath, and listened to the faint sound of drums beating. Not Chandren. And exhaled slowly. His forehead felt clammy.
Qui-Gon released his hold on the younger Jedi's shoulder, watching as his student's cloudy grey eyes resolved themselves into a deeper, blue-green, crystalline hue. "What was it?"
"What was what?" Obi-Wan pulled off the bed-clothes that had seemingly scrunched themselves around him, swathing him up to his neck. And it wasn't even cold.
Qui-Gon threw him a measuring glance. "You were…distressed." And almost Force-pulled me out of meditation with your panic.
Obi-Wan stilled, eyes taking in the sombre light that had fallen in the room. He twisted towards the huge windows, trying to discern the time…and saw shadows deepening around the boulders arranged artistically in the Royal Gardens.
"It is beyond the eighteenth hour, Padawan," Qui-Gon remarked, still not moving from his position beside Obi-Wan's bed. "I would have woken you up in a few moments anyway. The King sent a message to ask us to be ready by the nineteenth hour."
"Oh." Force, he had slept the whole afternoon away. "Did I disturb your meditation? I'm sorry."
"You did…but it is no matter." He placed a hand on the apprentice's drooping shoulders. "Tell me about your dream, if you will."
Obi-Wan bit his lip, eyes on the floor. A sudden urge overcame him-to confess everything, to do away with this weight that had settled somewhere in the region of his heart...
But I am a senior padawan. "I…it was about Chandren."
Not difficult to guess, that. "And…?" Qui-Gon prodded gently.
Obi-Wan rubbed his eyes with the heel of his hand. "Silly, really. I'm past the age of having nightmares." He smiled, a lop-sided curve appearing. "And dreams pass in time, as you say often."
"Only when the mind learns to accept it, padawan. What exactly did you dream about?"
"Scrolls. Something about Mandalain prophecies. That was what we were researching, after all."
Evasion. Qui-Gon shook his head slightly. He stared into a corner of the room, then, abruptly, sat down by the edge of Obi-Wan's bed. The latter bent his head, fingers absently picking at his braid. "You were researching scrolls. Yes, I know that. And…?"
"I should have stayed with the Agri-corps."
He had barely registered the surprise in Qui-Gon's eyes, before musical chimes interrupted them. The Royal Guards had arrived.
Tbc…