Qui-Gon was dead, and with him the soul of a twenty-five-year-old boy.
The glowing embers burned upon Obi-Wan's face; the consuming flames had gorged themselves upon the noble features of the man he had cherished and held in the highest esteem reserved only for fathers and deities.
He stood alone, as he knew he would for the rest of his life. He should have been attending to Anakin, instructing the youth in proper Jedi dress and fashioning his Padawan braid. But he couldn't. How could he, when his heart lay in pieces on the hearth before him, the shattered pieces now resting within the ashes of his mentor?
He had dropped the bombshell of Anakin's Padawanship on the youth during the ceremony, and he contented himself with that for the time being.
I take him only for you, my Master. Only for you...
His new level of knighthood brought Obi-Wan out of the realm of childish fantasy and into the stark reality of a dismal future. He had always known that he would leave Qui-Gon's side one day, but he had always imagined that day with his Master gazing proudly upon the man that he had become.
He had wept bitterly over the fallen Jedi Master and proceeded to do so once more, now that prying eyes and pitiful glances had left him in peace. The stark emptiness that surrounded him was fitting, as it reflected the way he felt inside. He stepped up to the pyre, pulling out a small cloth bag from a pouch on his belt. He filled it with a couple of handfuls of ash and tied it shut.
Holding the bag to his chest, he closed his eyes, fell to his knees and began crying silently, tears streaming down his face.
"Poor little Jedi, all alone, with no Master to protect him. Tsk, tsk, such a shame..."
Choking on his tears, Obi-Wan's head snapped up and looked around. The voice had come from within his own head, but it was not his own.
"It's probably for the best. You could be great, you know -" Obi-Wan's eyes searched the shadows frantically, as the voice withdrew from his head to occupy the space around him "- without the meddling of that Jedi Master."
"W-who's there?" He stammered, one hand falling to his lightsabre, the other pocketing his bag of ashes.
The speaker didn't seem to notice the question, or the action. "I mean, let's face the facts. You defeated that Sith Lord all by your lonesome. Jinn merely got in your way. Did you like the way it felt, to defeat an enemy stronger than you? How about the way the darkness caressed you?"
Obi-Wan stood slowly. "Who are you? What do you want with me?"
A slow, evil laugh emerged from the darkness of the night. "You have such great potential, lad. I want to help you discover it. Anyone who can best a Sith with your kind of training ought to be a fine investment, indeed. The way you controlled the Dark Side, used it to help you fight, was beautiful."
Obi-Wan breathed in sharply. "The Dark Side is not the way of the Jedi. I did not utilize it in any way, shape or form. The Dark path is an abomination..."
"That's what they want you to believe," the disembodied voice purred. "But really, is the Dark path really all that different from the Light? Both have the same goals, the same desires...the same intentions..."
"Stop it! Shut up! I won't listen to this -"
"Won't you? Don't deny it. You tasted the Dark Side and used it to avenge your Master!"
"NO!" Obi-Wan screamed and fled into the night, leaving the rest of Qui-Gon's cooling ashes to the four winds.