The Varrussians were very small elfin beings with dark luminous skin. Qui-Gon followed his guide with his hands hidden within the sleeves of his robe, taking in all of the sights and smells of the village. A deep inhalation brought him the pleasant aroma of fromlorn, a savory stew, being slowly cooked over a nearby kitchen firepit. He wouldn't forget that smell even if he lived to be as old as Yoda. The tents and dirt paths of the village were humble, but only until you looked at the small intricate details. The plants and flowers growing in elaborate patterns around the path; the embroidered cloth of the tents; and the melodic music that constantly filled the air were all woven together like a delicate spider's web. It all sang to him through the living force and a smile crept onto his. He decided that for the rest of his life Varrus would be his own private paradise, locked safely in his heart, to be taken out for his private indulgence whenever darkness intruded.
A change in the force alerted him that they were approaching The Mistress's tent. He knew that she was a force wielding being. Not for the first time, Qui-Gon found himself wondering what her midi-chlorian count might be. What did it matter though? She served the force, by serving her people. It was the path the force set before her.
The sweet smells of flowers and herbs greeted the tall Jedi as he reached her door. Menenius bowed low. "The Mistress awaits you."
"Thank you Menenius." Qui-Gon replied, walking past the door's multi-colored flap that the disciple held back for him. When the flap fell back into place the tent became dark, lit only by a handful of flickering candles.
"Thank you Master Jedi. You honor me with your presence." The Mistress's voice floated to him as if borne on the smoke of the candles. She came towards him out of the darkness with her arms outstretched. She was tall for her people, almost reaching his chest. Her dark skin always seemed ablaze from some inner light.
"It is my honor Mistress," said Qui-Gon, reaching out to grasp her hands with his own in the traditional manner. "I am pleased to have one more audience before my departure tonight."
"As am I, Master Jedi, as I am I." Her soul soothing voice was not much more than a whisper. "I wish to present you with the Malebrion, the gift."
"Oh Mistress I cannot accept a gift. I am grateful, but it is against the code that I live by, that all Jedi live by."
"Please do not misunderstand me. The Malebrion is not a gift which you can give or take. It is that which is already inside you, but which you do not see. It is a ritual that goes back many thousands of years. Only the strongest and most deserving have received it. In you I sense a great need for it." Her voice had not increased in volume, but the force of it still worked its way into him.
"I am honored Mistress. Please show me what I am to do."
Without fear Qui-Gon followed her instructions and soon he was seated on a soft cushion in the center of the room with his eyes closed. The Mistress extinguished the candles, while she began to chant.
"Malebrion tor siv anutlock. Malebrion sadfut mahjut. " (The gift hidden in the dark. The gift brought into the light.) she whispered circling Qui-Gon, her delicate feet making no sound on the blanket strewn ground. Silently she sat cross-legged in front of him. She considered his powerful features, his multi-colored beard, and his lips pulled into a slight smile. She knew him to be deserving of the gift. She took a deep breath, closed her own eyes, and then reached up to touch his cheek.
When her fingers made contact with his cheek, it was like being hit with a bolt of lightning, his skin becoming electric. His eyes flew open and he stared at her in awe, unable to speak or even to move. The moments stretched outward for what seemed like hours before he found his words again.
"I don't understand Mistress." he said, his voice sounding desperate to his ears.
"You will Master Jedi. I promise that you will." The Mistress released her hold on his cheeks. "I believe I have kept you too long. You will need to hurry to meet your transport."
Her words snapped him out of his trance like a slap across the cheek. "Yes Mistress. I'm sorry I must rush off like this."
"It is all right, for I know that we will meet again."
"Yes Mistress," Qui-Gon repeated before bowing low and hurriedly leaving the tent.
He puzzled over the experience as he rushed to the small landing platform outside the village. Not much had really happened other than the jolt of electricity he had felt. Perhaps, he finally reasoned as he reached the landing platform, it was a form of enhanced meditation and since he had not been meditating it hadn't worked as it should have. The tall Master shook his head as he boarded the republic cruiser that would take him away from Varrus and its soft red grasses and back to Coruscant and the stresses of his everyday life. He was more than a little sorrowful to leave. There was something nagging at the back of his mind, telling him that once he boarded the ship he would have nothing but regret.