The former Grandmaster of the Jedi Order stirred his broth amongst the cold evening on the swamp world of Dagobath. He had come outside his hut to let his dinner cool.

Yoda sat down and began to meditate. Began to focus. Began to concentrate.

And began to…reflect.

Reflection was inevitable, when seeing the landscape of the world he was on. He found it both a peaceful paradise, and an agonising reminder of how he'd ended up here.

Arrogance.

That was how.

His Arrogance.

He'd been born 100 years after the end of the last Sith Empire. The Jedi were at peace, and the galaxy was prospering.

But with the memory of destructive and galaxy threatening Sith Emperor's not yet waning, the Jedi weren't unprepared.

Yoda had been trained by esteemed and respected Jedi Masters, and had, very soon, become one of them himself.

He'd been touted as a once in a generation Jedi. Skilled in combat, negotiation, force ability and emotional control.

But a prophecy, read early in his youth by a previous Grand Master, had interested him particularly.

But he remembered this prophecy, when Qui-Gon Jinn brought it up hundreds of years later, when he presented the Skywalker boy to him in the midst of the Naboo crisis.

And proposed that he was the chosen one, the one the prophecy was made about.

Which contradicted with a belief Yoda had had for hundreds of years…

…that he was the chosen one.