This story can no longer gather dust on my PC.
Dedication: To everyone out there writing great and inspirational things in the fandom. Your glory is the joy of your readers.
All general disclaimers of "I don't own the characters, etc." apply.
Chapter 1. Horizons
Huge orange half of the planet's second sun was hanging in the sky like a slice of orange steeped in hot tea. The sky, tinged with pink and gold, was serene and empty, as empty as the space around him, but lacking this ever-present hollowness that had long before taken root in his heart. He leaned back, revelling in the coolness of shadows, feeling the roughness of the tree trunk. How many years… He breathed in deeply and closed his eyes, counting. Seventeen? Twenty? No, twenty was far too much. He was young back then, rash, eager to break the rules suffocating him, so impatient to break free and float on his own in the great ocean of life. So he broke away, to be with her, because there could be no life without her. Or so he thought. There is no death, there is the Force… He left to be with her only to lose the only one he loved. He survived, pointless as the life awaiting him was. And somehow the Force willed him to breathe, when nothing else remained for him. He was alone, no good for anyone, drifting without any destiny, in utter peace and nearly ominous quiet. Maybe even the Force looked upon him as if he was its lost cause. Maybe he was waiting for something to happen. But the little planet turned around day after day and he lived on. Freedom…
A sound remotely similar to laugh burst from his lips, quiet and mirthless. Freedom. Peace. That's what he wanted once. He gazed at the setting slice of the sun, immersing himself deeper in his meditation. The horizon was still and empty as always, but it was waiting for something. Something was coming, its forefeeling beating like a faint pulse in the back of his mind.
The room was darkening, lights from the outside sneaking into its confines through the transparisteel, and a small figure leaning heavily on the window sill looked like a carved silhouette against the mild colours of the landscape. Coruscanti sky, abuzz with life, hurry and eternal movement, sparkling with lights of flying vehicles, has always had a calming effect upon Obi-Wan. There was no emotion, only constant streams of traffic busy with something other than thoughts. Unlike himself, he sighed. So much for serenity. As soon as he would turn, the fleeting moment of peace would dissolve in the torrents ravaging his mind.
Five years. He was eighteen now. Five completed, more to go. How much more, that was the question. Ever since his thirteenth birthday, his first day as a Padawan, his life became a fight for survival. Sometimes, when he couldn't fight anymore, just survival, plain and simple. Get through this day. Stagger to his room. Get cleaned up. Get used to pain. Put on a brave face and squeeze out a smile for Bant, Reeft and Garen. Force himself to eat. Meditate. Drag his body into bed. Survive the night, that is manage to fall asleep and be silent whatever the dreams may bring.
Survive. Obi-Wan took a breath, perhaps too deep, and winced as his ribs protested. Yes, the task wasn't going to be simple. He stretched his shoulders, a soft hiss escaping his lips, walked to his bed and crawled under the covers. Tomorrow would be another day. Somehow this thought didn't sound comforting.
– Well, my now not-so-little padawan, I must say you do my work credit, but you surely already now that.
– Thank you, Master. – Obi-Wan didn't see the face of the speaker, trying to steady his breathing and making all the efforts possible not to wipe sweat from his face. Di'el Rhad was… demanding, for the lack of a better word.
His hand came to rest on the chin of the young apprentice, and Rhad tilted the teenager's head, forcing Obi-Wan to look at him.
– So obedient. But you cannot rise yet. I am not finished with our little… chat. – Rhad drawled lazily, almost tenderly stroking the padawan's face. – Do you remember what day it is? Five years ago…. Oh, I remember it so well. So scared… So worried. No-no-no, look at me, I want to admire the change, - the master purred, his voice nearly a whisper. – So much has changed. So much is about to change, isn't it, my little padawan? But I am speaking in riddles. The mind of an apprentice should be plain, so I'll make it clearer to you. Let's turn to our… proposal. I hope you have been giving it sufficient thought.
A rush of cold hit Obi-Wan in the pit of the stomach. Of course. If he wasn't already on his knees, he would have probably staggered at the realization.
–Oh, I take it that you have. That is to be commended, my little padawan. And what say you?
Obi-Wan swallowed thickly, bracing himself and frantically looking for an answer.
– You have learned a lot. Wouldn't it be a pity to let it all go to waste? With your potential and… this passionate desire of yours to become a Knight. We should move further, and for that little development a… strengthening of our bond is required, – the man bent down, patting his apprentice's cheek. –Let's now hear what you have to say.
– Master, I…
– Or maybe we shall give you a little bit of time and incentive. Life is dull without deadlines, huh? –Rhad chuckled amiably. – But on the other hand, we have waited enough. What do you think of… tomorrow? After all, the whole beginning procedure is quite simple. All I need is your oath, your lightsaber and someone I will bring to test your determination. One life. Nothing binds as tight as blood, now does it? So tomorrow it is.
– Yes, Master, – his throat constricted but he managed to steady his voice, and when his master nodded, Obi-Wan got up, his legs dangerously wobbling, and rushed to the door.
– Just a little reminder, though, – the voice stopped him in his tracks before he could place his hand on the pad. – You cannot become anything without a master. Nobody wanted to take you, remember? I was your only hope. But this hasn't changed much, has it? I am still your only hope.
The whisper chilled Obi-Wan's bones as understanding crept on him.
– That's right. The choice is that simple. You must decide if you want to keep this pretty little thing. – Rhad tugged at the padawan's braid, his breath ghosting on the boy's cheek. – Now go, if you still think there is anything for you to consider.
Water was always pleasant. It washed away the day, the grime, his scent. Not the darkness, however, nor the pain. Obi-Wan gingerly washed the burn on his arm where Master Rhad's lightsaber nicked it during sparring. He always did better in the training hall with the droids, there the Force was alive and vibrant, responding eagerly and encouraging every movement. In the presence of Rhad he always seemed to suffocate. Wisps of darkness crept out of nowhere, clouding his mind, tormenting his very being. What Obi-Wan would have done never to hear this taunting voice, never to kneel, never to wake up swallowing his screams to avoid the punishment. But this, as Rhad had so accurately put it, was his only hope.
Five years ago Master Yoda refused several Masters who desired to take Obi-Wan as their padawan, waiting for Qui-Gon, the one he considered the perfect match for the talented boy, to overcome the shadows of his past and accept a new apprentice. But when the perfect master made it clear he would not, Obi-Wan finally faced the harsh reality: he would be alone, unchosen, sent away, a reject condemned to lifetime with the Agri-Corps. But he couldn't do that. The Force was sure of it. He could feel it himself. So when Rhad, strict but ambitious, offered to take him, he didn't even pay much attention to the condition attached to the offer. "We'll think about it in time, my little padawan".
He almost forgot it. But Rhad haven't.
Obi-Wan clutched the sink, his knuckles going white. The mirror, cloudy from the steam, showed only the outline of a dim figure. He was glad, he didn't want to look into his own face. He didn't have a choice, really. He couldn't. The Council didn't believe him two years ago, why should it now? He truly had nowhere to go, nobody to ask for help.
He needed to survive the next day. Maybe, just maybe, Rhad will wait. Maybe he wasn't really going to do this. If not…
Obi-Wan dried his hair quickly, got dressed and walked down the corridor. If not... He couldn't think about that.
– Ever planning on actually eating that?
Obi-Wan started at Reeft's words, realizing that despite his best efforts he'd somehow managed to get lost in thoughts. He'd been trying to conceal from his friends the heavy weight pressing his heart to the ground. This evening was supposed to become a memory to cherish, not an interrogation session held by the concerned trio.
– I'm not sure, but I suppose you are, – Obi-Wan smiled, pushing the thoughts to the back of his mind and sealing them there.
– You know he always is, Obi. The question is when you're going to grant an easy death to that steak and stop pushing it around, – Obi-Wan didn't like the look Bant was giving him and resolved to finish his meal to avoid confrontation.
– Here. Thanks to Steak Rights Champion Bant Eerin, – he victoriously gestured at his empty plate, chewing the remnants of his dinner. – Should we go?
The crowd in the canteen began to dissipate, and the lack of usual noise was grating at Obi-Wan's already taut nerves.
– An excellent suggestion. Otherwise someone may be planning on finishing off whatever's left in this place, – Garen stood from the table, taking his tray, poking Reeft in the ribs with his elbow and swiftly disappearing to avoid the playful punch from the latter. The rest of them followed suit.
The four friends were walking slowly along the Temple corridors. Glowing warm lights of the evening were flowing through the windows, and the space basked in serenity and quiet beauty of the day coming to its end.
– Just imagine, we're finally together. Nobody off-world or slacking off, – Bant pointedly looked at Obi-Wan, who tried to play the offended one.
– Me? Are you kidding? I'm practically never off-world.
– Yeah, but with that Rhad of yours you're off limits.
– On here and now concentrate, you should, – Garen chimed in, seeing the fleeting expression of pain on Obi-Wan's face, and the four laughed, the conversation swiftly turning from the sensitive topic to their favourite subject of jokes.
They walked together a while more until it was time to retire to their masters' quarters.
– Alright, guys, it was great seeing you. We could meet up again if tomorrow everyone's still here, – smiled Garen.
– Yeah, – said Reeft. – Great time. Good night, guys.
Garen squeezed Obi-Wan's shoulder, and the two left, disappearing in the dim light of the Temple.
Obi-Wan's quarters were the same way as Bant's, so t he friends often accompanied each other.
– Would you come tomorrow? – the Mon Calamarian asked, giving him a concerned look.
– The main condition is for Garen to be here, – Obi-Wan tried to avoid the abandoned topic of him and his master but suspected it would still resurface.
– Oh come on, I'm speaking about you. You should really talk some sense into that guy.
– Garen?
– You know who I'm talking about.
– "On here and now concentrate, you should". He's right, you know.
– Not make fun of this, you should, unless a kick on the shin, you wish, – surprisingly, Bant rolled her eyes, distracted from the subject and barely keeping herself from giggling.
– Heard that, I did, –a voice spoke behind them, but the pleasant tones suggested there was no way this could be Master Yoda.
– Good evening, Master Tahl. I was just escorting Lady Bant here home, – Obi-Wan smiled in half-jesting courtesy, yelping when he received the jab in the ribs from his friend.
– Oh, I'm sure the Lady must be flattered, she just won't show her appreciation, – Tahl smiled, ignoring her padawan's salmon skin becoming a little closer to crimson. – Isn't that what the etiquette must be about? – the green flecks were sparkling with humour in the honey-gold of the master's eyes.
– It sure is. Goodnight, Bant. Master, – bowing slightly to hide the chuckling fit blossoming in his chest at Tahl's deadpan, Obi-Wan turned to go when he felt a warm hand on his shoulder.
– Want to come in? If you'd like to take a little break before you go to sleep, you're welcome here, you know that.
– Oh, – Obi-Wan turned sharply, startled by Tahl's voice, –Oh, thank you, but I think I'll just go to sleep a bit earlier. – a wry smile appearing on his lips still couldn't stop them from trembling slightly.
– Is everything alright? – Yellow-green eyes burned with barely concealed worry, and Obi-Wan tried to shrug off that glance, turning away from its silent scrutiny. She knew, and even if she didn't, then for sure at least felt something – has felt it for the last five years. Obi-Wan noticed the way she looked at him, all these small gestures of comfort and sympathy, which did nothing substantial, but he held on to them, clutching desperately, as if it was a lifeline. Nothing could be changed, but this still gave him the strength to endure. Still, they both knew the real answer to the question, and what he said was exactly what Tahl expected. Take it or leave it. Stalemate.
– Yes, really, I'm fine.
But today something was different in her demeanour.
– There's something you sense, isn't it?
The youth's eyes widened in shock.
– I don't know what…
– I can feel it too, – she raised her hand silencing him. – Something… taking shape. No use to deny it. Doesn't do any good, – she sighed, looking at something behind him, beyond the comprehension of senses.
A few moments of silence barely hung in the air, as heavy as his heart. Then Tahl touched his cheek with her hand, visibly trying to compose herself and shrug off whatever premonition was weighing on her mind, but Obi-Wan could swear there was a strange watery glossiness in her eyes, like liquid gold pooling in a pond.
– Alright, enough dark thoughts for today. But, Obi-Wan… The Force will be with you. Always. Whatever, Just remember this.
– Thank you.