Anakin, standing before Windu's door, raised a hand to knock, then lowered it in apprehension. It was too early, his Master would still be sleeping, or perhaps meditating—but this was important. He tapped lightly on the door with his knuckle, and an answering voice called, "Come in."

The door slid open at his touch, and Anakin stepped inside Windu's room to find the Master sitting calmly on his sleep couch. At his entrance, Windu looked up with an amiable expression on his face.

"Can I help you with something?" he asked. Anakin took a breath.

"I need to talk to you, Master," he said. "It's important, I think."

Windu's eyebrows lifted in mild curiosity, and he moved over on the bed to allow Anakin room to sit. Anakin did so, his hands buried nervously in his cloak.

"I had a dream last night," he began.

"About Obi-Wan?" Windu asked. Anakin shook his head, waving a hand dismissively at this suggestion; he had not dreamed about Obi-Wan in over a month now, ever since the night in the burning chamber.

"No, it was about—" Anakin bit his lip. It had seemed vital that Windu know about this while he had been walking over here, but now that Anakin was talking to him, he wasn't exactly sure why. "I don't really know what it was about. It wasn't very clear—just a bunch of images that kept flashing over and over."

"What were these images?" Windu prodded him. Anakin hesitated, trying to remember.

"There was a—a child, standing above me somewhere. And then he jumped—or maybe not, but somehow he was falling towards me…" Anakin shut his eyes tightly, concentrating. "And then there were people, four—no, three people—and I could see them crying, because—because—" Suddenly, what he had not realized in the dream, he understood now. He opened his eyes. "They were crying because the child was dead."

Windu's expression was one of utmost thought. "Do you remember anything else?" he asked. Anakin shook his head.

"I know there was more," he said, "but I don't know what it was."

Windu nodded, and after a moment, Anakin dared to ask a question. "Do you think—" he began. "Was it anything at all?"

Slowly, Windu let out his breath. "It could be nothing," he admitted. "Simply a dream." Anakin's shoulders relaxed unconsciously. "But…it could also be a vision of the Force."

Anakin started. "Master, I can't have a vision," he protested. "I'm not Master Yoda!"

"But you are the Chosen One," Windu reminded him. "It is to be expected that you possess a greater knowledge of the Force than that of your peers."

"But I don't, that's the thing!" Anakin burst out. "Somebody like—like Ferus, he'd do better than I would with the Force."

"Then it would be assumed," said Windu, "that you simply have not reached your full potential. Anakin, you have more than twice the number of Ferus's midichlorians; it's only common sense that, acting—as you will eventually—at your full capability, you would have more than twice the power." He paused for a moment. "Perhaps 'power' is not exactly the right word to use, but you understand what I'm saying."

Anakin nodded distractedly. "I just don't think that I'm strong enough in the Force to have a vision," he said, again placing that same awed emphasis on the word. Visions were granted only to people like Master Windu and Master Yoda—those on the Council, with years of experience to speak of. Suggesting that he, Anakin, might have had a Force-vision was, in his mind, the equivalent of suggesting that he run for Supreme Chancellor: not only quite impossible, but stupid as well.

"Well," Windu said, shrugging, "I would not dismiss it entirely. Of course, it could be nothing but a nightmare, but keep an open mind. And if you see any falling children, let me know."

With a grin, Anakin nodded. "Thank you, Master," he said, and left the room. Tucking the dream into a back corner of his mind to be deliberated later, he headed to the mess hall for breakfast.

In a rare burst of lethargy that came as soon as he had finished breakfast, Anakin decided not to go to the training room as was normal, and instead wandered toward the Room of a Thousand Fountains. It was largely empty, with only a few Knights standing around and talking. He sat down on the low stone wall that surrounded the small fountain nearest him and distractedly let his hand fall into the cold water.

"Hey," said a voice from above him. Anakin looked up, to see Ferus standing beside him. He grinned, remembering Windu's words.

"Haven't seen you in a while," greeted Anakin, drying his fingers on his cloak and patting the stone next to him. Ferus took the invitation and sat down.

"I know—you were gone a long time," he said. Though they weren't speaking particularly loudly, the sheer, overpowering size of this room made them feel as though they were shouting. "Where were you again, Dantooine?"

Anakin nodded. "The Council thought there might be a holocron left there from the training center that Master Bass established during the Sith Wars. Can you imagine what we could do with something like that? I mean, to know what Jedi were being taught thousands of years ago!"

"Did you find it?" Ferus prodded. Anakin looked almost sheepish as he answered.

"No, we didn't find anything at all," he admitted, a slightly irritated look on his face. "Took us a week, and it was nothing but a waste of time. All we did was walk through ruins."

Ferus shrugged. "Good exercise, at least," he pointed out with a smile. He opened his mouth to say something else, but was interrupted by the sound of running footsteps from far above them. Simultaneously, the Padawans looked up. The ceiling of this room transcended several floors of the Temple, and on the third floor, they could see three dark little shapes pounding past the railings as fast as they could go. Squinting, Anakin could make out the faces of two: a girl with red hair whose name he didn't know, and a wiry boy called Kahli. Over the sudden noise of the energetic youngsters, who were shrieking with laughter over some private joke, the apprentices resumed their conversation.

"You and Master Windu seem to be getting along well," Ferus said. "I wouldn't have expected that."

Anakin laughed softly. "He's certainly much more serious than Obi-Wan ever was," he said, "but it's nice to be back to normal. And I'm grateful to him for taking me…" His voice trailed off. He was grateful; very much so. Not many Jedi Masters on the Council would have consented to take a Padawan of nineteen. Missing Obi-Wan was inevitable, of course, but at last Anakin was learning to move on. Gone was the fathomless, soul-wrenching sorrow that had first accompanied him everywhere; now, there was only private, quiet grief.

Above them, the children had finished with whatever game they were playing, and were now playing a game that involved climbing on the outside of the balustrade, sticking their feet between the bars and holding on tightly to the connecting railing. Anakin watched them idly from across the room, leaning back until his head almost touched the stream of water. Kahli noticed him, and, hungry for attention, let go with one hand to wave eagerly at Anakin.

"Hey, look what I can do!" he shouted, his voice ringing off the walls as he demonstrated his one-hand trick. Anakin grinned as he watched

"Be careful," he warned, "or you could—fall—oh krif—!"

He jumped to his feet, racing forward as fast as he could, hardly noticing Ferus's startled stare. But in a second, Ferus's eyes were on him no longer, for from across the room, Kahli's fingers had slipped, and he was falling, faster than anyone below him could have reacted. The Knights were already running toward him, but they would be too late—

Anakin's heart was pounding furiously. Fear shot through him with every step—if he didn't make it, if Kahli fell to his death, somehow it would be his fault for having seen it happen. He didn't think to use the Force—terrified, he only closed his eyes and prayed that he would not be too late.

And suddenly, miracle of miracles—something heavy and small fell into his arms, trembling from head to toe.

Kahli's arms were wrapped around his neck; carefully, Anakin untangled them and set the little boy down. About the same time that he noticed the people standing around them, unable to believe what had just happened, he also realized that he couldn't breathe. Gasping for air, Anakin sank down on the fountain edge closest to him; he couldn't remember the last time he'd run that fast.

One of the Knights, a Mon Calamari, stepped forward and lifted Kahli into her arms. Looking up, she called sternly, "You two, get down here now!" and Anakin heard the frightened scurrying of the other two children as they hastened downstairs. His eyes on the floor, Anakin sensed, rather than saw, Windu come forward.

"Anakin, what's going on?" he asked concernedly. Anakin looked up.

"I found your falling child," he declared.

Windu's eyes flicked from Kahli, crying on his Master's shoulder, to Anakin, who still hadn't quite managed to catch his breath. With a gesture of his hand, Windu motioned for Anakin to stand beside him, and together they left the room, walking side by side. So shocked were the rest of the onlookers that hardly anyone saw them go.

"Then it came true?" Windu queried. Anakin nodded slowly—his mind was working very slowly, still trying to connect everything that had happened.

"What does this mean?" he asked. "In my dream, I—I didn't catch him. How can it be a vision if it didn't come true?"

Windu hesitated. "The only answer I can provide," he said at last, "is that you dreamed what might have been, and changed it to what is."

It took Anakin a second to figure that one out. "You mean that I changed the future?"

The corners of Master Windu's mouth twitched. "Everyone changes the future, Anakin, every instant that they breathe. The difference is that you changed it onto a specific path, one that you were able to control because you saw the alternative." He looked over at his Padawan, who kept his head down. "If that dream had not come, would you have been able to react as quickly as you did?"

Anakin thought back. "No," he realized, almost reluctantly. "There were other Knights—closer than me—but they didn't see him until it was too late." The memory of his vision was mixing bewilderingly with reality; it was difficult to remember which parts he had dreamed and which had actually happened. "And I think…I think I started running even before he fell."

"Because you knew he would."

"I guess so."

Feel pleased, Anakin commanded himself vainly. You accomplished something Jedi Masters dream of. But it was no use.

"Excuse me, Master Windu," he murmured, and stepped up his pace. After he had turned the corner of the hallway, he was alone. Exhausted, Anakin sank against the wall. The inevitable question was churning in his brain, making him feel sick.

If it was true, that he was finally becoming the most of what he could be, why had it not happened sooner?

Anakin could think of no enormous change that had taken place, no sudden difference in his connection to the Force. His concentration had been getting better, true, but that could hardly bring on a Force-vision. It seemed to him that the only change of such magnitude that had occurred was…was Obi-Wan.

He tried to pass the thought off as ridiculous, but it wasn't as easy as it should have been. Obi-Wan Kenobi had been the perfect Jedi Knight in every conceivable way; hadn't he adhered perfectly to the Jedi Code, hadn't he fought and lived and died as the Council had told him to, hadn't he been everything a Jedi was supposed to be?

No. If he had, he would not have loved Anakin as he did.

This was a new thought, one that Anakin did not like at all. Oh, he had complained that Obi-Wan was holding him back, but that had been the whining of a child—he had never imagined that it could be true. Anakin knew that his Master would never have detained him on purpose, but simply by loving his apprentice, he had caused Anakin to love him back, and love, as every Jedi knew, was a dangerous thing. It seemed to be hundreds, thousands of times that Anakin had thrown Jedi principles to the wind in order to save one man. But if that man were gone…

Anakin pressed his forehead to the cool marble of the wall beside him. In a sense, he supposed, he had been liberated, but it came at a price he would not have been willing to pay. But maybe now—when there was nothing in his way, no distractions or barriers—he could become the Jedi Obi-Wan had always wanted him to be. Yes, that he could do, Anakin decided, touching his fingers to the crystal around his neck. It would be his final gift to his beloved Master.

Neither Anakin nor Windu told anyone of his vision, nor of the significance of the fact that it had come true, but those who had been there and seen Anakin's mad dash were able to put two and two together, to Anakin's chagrin. Once again, whispers started to follow Anakin in the hallways, and conversations would sometimes stop when he entered a room. But this time, the whispers were of wonderment and awe. Slowly, rumors began to spread through the Temple like smoke of the young Padawan with the crystal around his neck, stricken by devastating tragedy, who never seemed to sleep and could foretell the future.