Darsant Avat

The Whills

Qui-Gon had decided not to bring Obi-Wan, since the boy was still quite weak and he did not want to stress him, but now he wondered if he had deprived the child of a rare opportunity to speak to the shamans here. They lived on a world that had idyllic mountains covered with forests, and the Force had guided him up the slopes to a small pavilion that looked like it had grown there, but there were no paths leading to it and no other structures around. It was on the side overlooking a steep drop, surrounded by the trees of other mountains. On one side was a gorge and rainbows scattered in the spray.

The frustrated Jedi, Anakin, was standing with his side profile facing Qui-Gon, blue eyes and smooth skin. He wore the same outfit he had in the last vision, except a long black cloak swept over his shoulders. This was not the shaman's true form; no one had ever seen what shamans actually looked like, so Qui-Gon knew that this was simply a shape they took in order to communicate with him. He was not surprised that the shape was Anakin, though.

"We have been waiting for you, Master Jedi."

Qui-Gon considered how to answer this, before deciding he did not have to.

"I have questions," He said, stopping in front of the pavilion.

Anakin did not respond, and after a moment, Qui-Gon walked up to join him. It was truly a beautiful view; the trees were a vibrant, rich green, and the Force was full here, lifting and freshening the air like a sweet fragrance.

"Darsant Avat," Anakin stated, "The darkness attacks anything that will allow it to win. Most often, it is the defenses of the Force itself, but sometimes these defenses concentrate in sentients. Such is young Kenobi."

Qui-Gon paused. He knew this already. "How do I protect him?" He asked.

"You cannot," Anakin replied. "You are but one man, one Jedi. You cannot hope to defeat an entire essence of the Force, not unless it lets you, and in reality, the Dark Side is a often wise force that knows its place, and recedes when time is due. Now is not its time, and it will not relent. Your child will wither, he will die, and his essence will be depleted. He will not join the Force, for he will cease to exist."

A cold terror clamped over Qui-Gon's heart. He thought of the vision, of how sickly Obi-Wan had looked, of how the real Anakin had burst into tears. 'I'm supposed to be the Chosen One…'

"What do you mean, 'He will not join the Force, for he will cease to exist'?"

"Exactly what you think."

For a while, Qui-Gon struggled with how to react. He blinked rapidly, feeling disoriented by the calm serene environment while his own thoughts spun at the news.

"Why tell me this?" He asked softly, "I was driven to bond with a child whose talents I do not even complement. The Force linked us together so that I see his visions. It would have me neglect the Sith that threaten the galaxy in favor of protecting the child, only so that he can be sacrificed?"

"Obi-Wan Kenobi." Anakin sounded almost musing as he spoke. "In him is the true heart of the Jedi. Nobility, compassion, courage, wisdom. Power, with love. Strength, with beauty. So many life forms grace this galaxy, but when he came, the very Force stopped and watched. Sometimes sentients have a foundation set in the grey. His was not. It is what makes him so appealing, so important, that Darsant Avat would localize to him. You spared him his life on Bandomeer, but what he did to save yours has caused the Plague to latch to him for real."

Sifo-Dyas. Qui-Gon's hands clenched. If Obi-Wan had not contacted him, executed that incredible stunt in the Force—his very consciousness had peeled away from his body and had flown out into the reaches of the Force, where the Dark Side could find him. Sifo-Dyas, what have you done?

"There was no way that could have changed," Anakin turned to Qui-Gon, and the Jedi Master noticed that again, the boy's face was split in half, one side benign and one side sinister, one eye blue and one eye yellow. It was distinctly odd, but he felt no threat. This was some kind of representation of another person, not the shaman himself, and Qui-Gon was in no danger.

"If he had not communicated with me—"

"There would be other ways to inflict Darsant Avat," Said Anakin, "Jedi Master Sifo-Dyas ensured you would survive to come here and learn what you must do."

"You said I can do nothing to protect him."

"Not directly."

"Then…what?"

Anakin turned, and Qui-Gon saw that there was now a path leading down the slope. It was not very steep, and it wound around the edge to continue overlooking the pool. The shaman left the pavilion, and Qui-Gon followed. For a while, the two walked slowly in silence.

"Look there," Said Anakin, raising a hand to point.

Qui-Gon looked. Ahead was a distant mountain, covered in mist. He was not sure what he was looking for.

"We must go there," Said Anakin.

They walked.

Despite the richness of the Force, there was little movement here. The wind hardly blew, and there were no insects, no birds. They descended down the mountain and circled to the one Qui-Gon had been looking at, and as they went, the mist shrouded over them and colors began to bleach into grey. The Force, too, became colder, more and more sinister, and at some point Anakin switched sides so that his yellow eye faced Qui-Gon, his chin was lined and dry and there was an odd snarl curling the corner of his lips. The shadows became longer, deeper, and they made a turn around the now-dead trees to behold the Jedi Temple, barely standing, pillars dusty and colors faded. It looked like it had been abandoned for decades.

"I will end the Jedi," Said Anakin, and his voice now sounded haughty, filled with anger, even though his Force presence still exuded the same calm of the shaman. "I will bring about an era of misery and suffering, and I will do this, regardless of whether I am trained."

"…Why?"

"Because," Anakin turned so that both sides of him faced Qui-Gon, "I am the Chosen One, and I will bring balance to the Force. The Light needs Darkness, and the Darkness needs light. Such is the way the universe is built." He turned away again to walk ahead, and Qui-Gon followed, his throat tight as he beheld the decomposed skeletons wrapped in decayed Jedi tunics. Some of the corpses were very small.

"Do you know the way of the Whills, Master Jinn?"

"No." It was surreal, walking through these halls. They were so different from the halls Qui-Gon knew, and the promise that this was in the future made it all the more horrifying.

"All Force-sensitives follow the Force," Said the shaman, "But also the Force follows Force-sensitives, and when one passes into the Force, one becomes part of its will. Time is not linear outside this plane, and one can change the future and past, if one is powerful enough."

It took a moment for Qui-Gon to comprehend. "You are saying that once we are dead, it is possible to go back in time to alter events."

"There are rules, of course," Anakin walked ahead, "And the strength of one's Force abilities determines what one can do, which is why you are not able to protect the child from what seeks to ruin him."

Qui-Gon stared. "Then this Anakin can?"

"Yes."

"But…" The master lifted his hand to his head, as if doing so could give him an idea, "The child might not even be born yet. And you said that Obi-Wan will find him. What do I have to do?"

Anakin looked away, and as Qui-Gon followed his gaze, he saw that they were looking into the hallway that led to his apartments. It was noticeably well-kept compared to the rest of the temple, or whatever Force representation this place was.

The shaman said nothing, but Qui-Gon sensed that he was to head forward. When he left Anakin's side, the youth did not stop him, and so, emboldened, Qui-Gon headed toward the doors that he knew led to his own quarters.

The plaque on the door had a single name: OBI-WAN KENOBI. Obviously, this was sometime after Obi-Wan was knighted, but did not have a padawan. Qui-Gon did not dwell much on it; Obi-Wan's knighthood was a certain thing, as far as he was concerned, and though he was heartened to know that Obi-Wan would live to be knighted, there were more pressing issues at hand.

The door opened despite not being his any longer, and he stepped in to find the living room slightly altered, but mostly the same. Most of Qui-Gon's things were still there, and in a rush the master realized that he must have died not long after Obi-Wan had been knighted, because he could see no other reason why Obi-Wan would be occupying his room instead of another.

There were people in the living room, however. Anakin was pacing back and forth. He was not dressed as a Jedi, instead he was a reasonably wealthy civilian, and this time around he did not even seem to have what meager control his Jedi self had. His hair was short, though he needed a haircut to get it properly trimmed, and his face was symmetrical, with both eyes blue. On the couch was a woman, rubbing her very pregnant belly. Her hair was brown and adorned with jewels. She looked beautiful and young, her eyes intelligent and bright. She was dressed elegantly, and the style was similar to Naboo.

The door to Qui-Gon's room was closed. The door to Obi-Wan's room was open, but bare, as if no one lived there.

Qui-Gon stepped into the living room and the door slid closed behind him. The two occupants seemed unaware that he was there.

"How long does he have?" Asked the young woman.

"They don't know," Anakin said despondently.

The young woman bowed her head. "He's strong. He can make it."

"It's not about strength." The boy shook his head. They were both speaking in low voices, but Qui-Gon could hear the tears in his voice. "You can't fight against death. Not without turning into a Sith, or something." He raised his hand to cover his face. "You know he gave it all up for me?"

"Ani…"

"I was supposed to be the Chosen One," Anakin whirled away from her and headed to the window, where he stared out at a skyscape Qui-Gon could not perceive, "I was supposed to be the Chosen One, the one who is strong enough to bring balance to the Force. I'm…I'm even stronger than Master Yoda. Supposedly. He knew this. That idiot knew this. He didn't train me."

"Obi-Wan is not an idiot," The woman said gently.

"No," Anakin breathed heavily, shuddering, "But he is. Or maybe not. I guess he never anticipated that I would ever learn of this. I wasn't supposed to know. He knew I could get rid of the Sith forever, make the Jedi the only ones in the galaxy…but he didn't train me…he didn't train me." He shook his head and sighed.

"Why not?"

Anakin wavered physically, actually rocking from side to side as he hunched over, suddenly looking very small and young.

"Because…he wanted me to live my own life." He whispered, and laughed brokenly. "He wanted me to have a chance to live a normal life, and not have to answer to anyone. He didn't want me to live the life of a Jedi, where I'd have to s-sacrifice, to give things up…I mean, I still can, but he didn't want people to expect that from me. So all he did was teach me all these stupid tricks…" With that, a cushion from the couch levitated as Anakin reached out, and he slammed it into the wall. Considering the things in the room he could have thrown, this was fairly mild. "How's that going to help him, huh?"

"I don't think he expected to fall sick like this, Ani," The woman pointed out, "He was young. We were all young. We had no idea what the future held for us. If you had been a Jedi, we would not have been able to get married."

She's his wife, Qui-Gon thought. Somehow, Anakin was…not a Jedi, in this vision.

Anakin suddenly whipped his head to look at the closed door.

"Ani?" The woman blinked. "What's wrong?"

"It's Obi-Wan," And Anakin was rushing to the door. It slid open, and he hurried inside. His wife managed to push herself off the couch awkwardly and went in after him.

Knowing that no one could see him anyway, Qui-Gon followed, but when he went through the entrance, he emerged on the bridge of a ship in space. This time Anakin was dressed in black again, a cloak spilling from his tall shoulders and his hair grown long lik Qui-Gon's own, but while his face remained symmetrical, his eyes were a hard yellow and his skin looked aged. There were men and women scattered about at their stations, and the viewport showed an ongoing battle.

"Milord, a Jedi is flying just ahead."

"Shoot him down," Anakin's eyes narrowed. Qui-Gon, use to seeing a split-faced Anakin, did not really find this visage too astonishing. He was saddened that the boy seemed to have turned to the Dark Side. On his belt was a lightsaber, likely red.

On the viewport, the blaster bolt hit, and the ship exploded into pieces. There were flashes as other ships blasted into hyperspace.

"Follow them!" Cried a man who looked like some kind of admiral.

"Leave them," Anakin interrupted, "They will only keep running, but they have nowhere to hide." He turned around, his cloak swirling about him, and stalked from the bridge. Qui-Gon followed, wondering if he was going to emerge someplace else entirely, but the doors opened to reveal a corridor and when Qui-Gon went through, he followed Anakin seamlessly. After a few turns, Anakin finally entered a chamber with a bed and another viewport of space. Qui-Gon entered as well, wondering what he would see.

There was a bed, which Anakin sat on after staring for a moment. He seemed to stare into space, thinking, but since there was no one to talk to, it was unlikely he would say anything. Qui-Gon took the opportunity to explore the room. It was very clean and sterile, with no decorations of any kind, but on a computer were some files, still open. A quick glance told Qui-Gon it had something to do with using the Dark Side of the Force to resurrect the dead.

There was a buzz of a lightsaber being turned on, and Qui-Gon turned around, alarmed. Anakin was simply waving it around though, and it was not the one he had in his belt, at least not the one he showed everyone. This lightsaber was blue, and while it was not the one Obi-Wan had constructed on Ilum, Qui-Gon still had a feeling it was his.

Anakin then turned on his own lightsaber, which was red as Qui-Gon had expected, and seemed to compare the two. The two blades seemed to divide his face again, with the blue blade painting one side a fair light, and the red blade casting his other a shadowy darkness. He then turned both off, and then turned off the lights with telekinesis, casting the entire room in black.

Startled, Qui-Gon was still for a moment. Then there was a wind, and clouds dispersed above to show a moon. Qui-Gon was suddenly surrounded by trees, and in the air there was the scent of smoke and blood.

He looked to the side and gasped. There was a field where bodies littered by the thousands. Aghast, he walked to the field, where there seemed to be women and children dead with their men. A few Jedi scattered, their robes distinct though burnt by blaster bolts, and there were even young padawans, some only as old as Obi-Wan, their eyes staring sightlessly up or to the side or into the ground as the wind lifted their dead braids.

Feeling sick, Qui-Gon tried to find a way to escape this terrible vision. He stumbled past the bodies, slipping on the dirt clumsily and found his way back to the trees. Leaning against a trunk, he shut his eyes to recover his wits and to suppress the wave of nausea that swept through him. As he exhaled, there was the sound of laughter.

Who could be laughing at this? He opened his eyes to look, but he was suddenly in another forest, and the field of bodies was gone. Instead, there was a small clearing with a jolly campfire in the distance, around which sat several people. The Jedi went closer, stepping carefully out of habit, though it was unlikely any of these people would be aware of him either.

There was a man and a woman, both young, with the man resembling Anakin and the woman resembling his wife. They sat together with another tall, rugged-looking man who in turn sat next to a wookiee.

"So you're saying that Anakin Skywalker fell to the Dark Side for nothing?" The rugged man remarked while the wookiee growled the same question.

"You can't save someone through anger," Said the man who resembled Anakin. "You direct the Force through what you learn in life, and all he knows is how to direct it using anger."

"He wasn't born a Sith though. You said this Kenobi saved him and he seemed to kind of like this guy."

"The issue is," Said the woman, "He does not know Light Side techniques. He has raw power, more than Luke and I, but the things he has to do, they require as much finesse as blunt force. Father trained directly as a Sith. Even if he does go into the light, I doubt he would know how to save Kenobi."

How can he not know Light Side techniques? Qui-Gon blinked. Wait, did Obi-Wan train him or didn't he? All his prior visions…but this…what's going on?

"How would he save Kenobi anyway?" The wookiee growled that all this sounded rather absurd.

"He needs to alter time," Said the woman, "We're not sure how, but we do know this, since Father never actually trained as a Jedi, he can never die as a Jedi, not truly. Only Jedi, and those like Jedi, have the ability to influence the past, present, and future. The Sith can too, but only to destroy, and Kenobi's already destroyed."

"That's so convoluted." Said the rugged man. "No wonder I didn't believe in the Force at first. You Force people don't even know what's going on yourselves and you can actually sense the freaking thing."

"Well, it's more because all the Jedi are gone. We would know more if we had more resources, but Father burned them all."

"Why would he do that?"

"The Dark Side does not just make you look cool in black," Luke said dryly, "It also makes you go mental, do things out of passion rather than sense."

There was a silence at this.

"I just feel very bad," Luke then sighed, "If I were stronger…but I'm not as strong as my father, and I am not powerful enough to influence the past so correctly. I'd do it, if only because Kenobi didn't deserve what he got." He shook his head.

A flurry of leaves showered down, and when they passed Qui-Gon found himself in a room. Luke sat with his head bowed. There was a blurry blue figure that resembled an older Anakin, one who was perhaps in his forties or fifties.

"He's not there," Anakin was saying softly, his eyes filled with turmoil, "My master…Obi-Wan…he's not there. He's not anywhere. He's…just…gone. It's like he's never existed. Qui-Gon told me that he never passed into the Force when he died, that when he died his spirit just…disappeared. There was…there was no one to save."

Luke seemed unsurprised by this. "I'm sorry, Father."

"Heh," Anakin looked away, "It figures that I would learn the wrong side of the Force for this kind of thing. But Obi-Wan," And the very air sank with his despair, "He did not deserve this. He did not. He never deserved any of this. Please, Luke, when the child comes, try to tell Mara…name him…name him—"

A shadow passed over the room, and while Qui-Gon was still reeling over the sheer sorrow of the vision, he was suddenly in an office. A tall young man who was very recognizable as Obi-Wan, face clean-shaven and hair to his shoulders, was standing in front of a table on which sat a holochess set—the actual chess game, from the looks of it, ready to be played. Dooku was sitting on the other side, looking expectantly. He was wiry as he always was, but there was a pronounced darkness about him now, his hair white and his face lined from cruelty. Qui-Gon shuddered and stared at his former master. It hurt, to look upon this man he once admired and idolized, and see someone he could not recognize.

After a moment, Obi-Wan sat.

"I do wish your kind would move past all the triviality," Obi-Wan remarked with his cultured accent, and he sounded calm, collected, regal. "It is really quite tiresome to wind about in circles when both of us know what will happen."

"Ah, but the Force is always in motion, as the Jedi would say," Said Dooku, gesturing at the board. "Your move."

"Pawn dom two to dom four."

And so the game began.

"You know what is after you," Said Dooku, "It will not cease until you give in."

"I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Now who is being trivial?" Dooku leaned forward, "The battle you face is not one you can defeat. You know the saying."

If you can't beat them, join them.

"Perhaps, perhaps not," Said Obi-Wan, "The Force is always in motion, as you have said. Knight to cresh three."

"Do you value yourself so little?" Dooku tilted his head. "It would be a shame. It is well known, how my former padawan had strove to protect you, nurture you. He at least valued you, perhaps more than even the Jedi. That you should allow yourself to die from this…that does him a great disservice, does it not?"

Obi-Wan inexplicably laughed. "This is what those like you don't understand." He looked at Dooku as if the elder man were a child. "You never understood. The Dark Side would not exist, of course, if it had no use, and so all of you are useful. However, for all the sacrifices we Jedi make, nothing can exceed the lengths of your lot. You are destruction, devastation, death. You exist only to undo what was made, and in the end as you descend further into the shadows, once your usefulness is over, you, too, are eliminated. Whereas the Light, it is health, healing, making, and we create uses for you. You claim the Jedi are slaves, for we follow the Force instead of command it, but how can you, with your puny mortal mind and mortal flesh, you who were born from the Force and whose life had always been defined by it, hope to be the master of something that transcends life and death?" He stood then. "Qui-Gon loved me for my light. To fall would break his heart, for I would die without being dead, and my survival would be a mockery of what he once loved. I almost find it offensive, that you should think I would do so."

"It will destroy you, child," Dooku said quietly, and the way he said it sounded so…tender. "It will destroy you, and Qui-Gon's efforts would have been for nothing."

"So be it."

Dooku's lightsaber, red as blood, whirred into existence without a warning, but Obi-Wan caught it with his own blue blade, and the resulting flash blinded Qui-Gon. He blinked, and he was suddenly standing in the trees, the sound of the distant waterfall tingling in the air.

He turned to get his bearings, looking around and blinking as if woken from a nightmare. Anakin leaned against a tree, arms folded and looking impassively with his face bisected into good and evil masks. He truly looked freakish this time around, and for a moment Qui-Gon wanted to withdraw from him, despite knowing that this image he projected was not actually real.

"You will raise a great being," Said Anakin, "But he won't last long."

"I don't understand."

"Oh?"

"Why show me all of this?" Qui-Gon raised his hand to find it shaking a little. "Why show me all of this?" He hardly knew what to make of what he saw—everything had jumbled together, so many confounding things happening one after another, and among them all was the resonating, undeniable message that Obi-Wan…my poor Obi-Wan!

"Because," Said Anakin, "If you want Obi-Wan to survive Darsant Avat…you have to make sure he trains me."

Qui-Gon froze. "That's it?" He asked, disbelieving. "That's all I have to do?" Get Obi-Wan to train Anakin? How was that going to change anything? From all his visions before he came to the shamans, it actually looked like Anakin was already trained, despite the current scenes he now saw to the contrary, and even then Anakin seemed to have been struggling.

"I need to learn the way of the Jedi," Said Anakin,"Because only I can shield him from Darsant Avat."

"How?" Qui-Gon asked, "I saw visions before. I saw you—Anakin—" This was confusing, how the shaman was referring to himself as Anakin, "You didn't know what to do."

"The solution is simple." The shaman pushed off the trunk. He approached Qui-Gon, and as he did his face smoothed to resemble adult Obi-Wan's, eyes tranquil and deep, face serene and kind. He now sported a beard, neat enough to be out of the way, but full enough to remind Qui-Gon of himself. "Learn the way of the Whills, and in time, all shall be revealed to you."

"And what is that?" Qui-Gon asked, resisting the urge to step back.

Obi-Wan raised his hand, and it was strange because though he was tall, he was not as tall as Qui-Gon, so he had to reach up in order to touch the Jedi Master's forehead. "We of our order offer you and your brethren…immortality."

The Force exploded with laughter and sparkling lights, much like when Qui-Gon first bonded with Obi-Wan. There was childhood and youth, color and music, song and joy, until Qui-Gon's heart felt so full of it he felt like he could not bear it.

Love, Master, Obi-Wan's voice whispered, That is the key to eternity…and to outlast Darsant Avat.