It took Anakin some time to regain control of his emotions after the revelation of his so called chosen-kyber-crystal. But once he centered himself, he was guided towards the architect droid who presented him with the various materials he could choose from to build his lightsaber.
Anakin, trusting in the Force, even if he wanted to strangle it at times, closed his eyes and allowed its guidance to flow through him during the crafting process of his lightsaber. An hour of focused concentration passed, and when Anakin finally opened his eyes, he was astounded by the sight before him. His lightsaber hilt was an extraordinary combination of materials that held deep significance for him. It featured Krayt dragon bone, a species native to his home world of Tatooine, and Haysian smelt, a rare and precious gold from Hays Minor in the Otomok system. Not only was Haysian smelt beautiful, but it was also an excellent conductor of electricity.
Maybe I could use Force Lighting through my lightsaber, Anakin thought as he caressed his lightsaber hilt. That would be an interesting technique if I get the hang of it.
The hilt's design was inspired by a dragon's head, it was sleek providing excellent grip, and two wings elegantly extended to cover the sides, positioned like quillons below the primary blade. The result was a crossguard lightsaber, an ancient variant with three blades—a primary blade and two vents (or quillons) extending from the hilt. Anakin's wings replaced the traditional quillons, giving his lightsaber a unique and imposing appearance.
A crossguard lightsaber… not bad, Anakin hummed internally. Its ancient style fit perfectly with the ancient orange kyber crystal. I've never had a crossguard lightsaber, it will be interesting getting the hang of it. It will make "learning" the lightsaber forms more engaging.
Eager to see the culmination of his efforts, Anakin ignited the lightsaber, and gasped as a brilliant orange blade emerged from the hilt. The sight filled him with wonder and excitement. With his new lightsaber in hand, Anakin felt a deep connection to his creation and the Force. It represented his growth as a Jedi and symbolized the bond he had with his home planet, Tatooine. It will serve him well for the upcoming war.
Serve him well it did, as the years passed and Anakin allowed himself to show of the mastery he has achieved over the lightsaber forms in the previous timeline, even going as far as to present his modified Form IV, as he was well aware that the key to deflecting the fire of multiple adversaries was fluidity of motion, which he mastered enough to having adjusted the classic techniques of Form IV to better defend against ranged attackers. With this Anakin began to be called a prodigy in the art of lightsaber. One which Master Windu and Master Depa had taken under their wing to teach Vaapad.
Now at fourteen-year-old Anakin Skywalker stood across from Master Mace Windu in the training hall, ready to learn the lightsaber form Vaapad. The room was bathed in the soft glow of their lightsabers—an orange blade for Anakin and a distinctive purple blade for Master Windu. The air crackled with anticipation as the young padawan prepared himself for the intense training session.
Master Windu began the session by explaining the principles of Vaapad. He spoke of how it was born out of his own struggle with his inner darkness, and how he had channeled that darkness into a form of controlled fury. He emphasized the importance of maintaining balance and discipline while tapping into the power of Vaapad.
If only I had this training in the previous timeline, Anakin huffed in dry amusement. It would have worked wonders to focus my darkness and passion elsewhere. Oh, well, at least I have it now. Let's focus and do my best!
When the spar began, Anakin lunged forward, his orange blade cutting through the air as he tried to break through Master Windu's defenses. Windu moved with ease, dodging Anakin's strikes with smooth footwork and precise saber movements. His purple blade seemed to dance, always finding the perfect angle to block Anakin's attacks.
Anakin's strikes were fast and fierce, driven by his eagerness to learn and prove himself. But Windu could see the young Padawan's form lacked finesse and control. Anakin's movements were more about emotion than a calm, focused mind, which was crucial for mastering Vaapad.
"Anakin," Windu called out during their clash. "You need to find your inner balance. Vaapad isn't just about aggressive attacks. It's about understanding your emotions and using them with purpose."
Anakin nodded, trying to take in the Master's wisdom even as they fought. He tried to adjust his approach, focusing on staying more composed. With each clash of their lightsabers, Windu offered firm but gentle corrections, guiding Anakin through the subtleties of Vaapad.
"You're strong, Anakin," Windu said calmly. "But strength alone isn't enough. You need to find the calm within yourself, the stillness in the storm. Use your emotions, but don't let them control you."
"Easier said than done," Anakin grunted, panting as he started to tire.
As they continued, Anakin began to absorb Windu's teachings. He steadied his breath and cleared his mind, finding a balance between aggression and control. His strikes became more deliberate, and his movements started to mirror the disciplined grace of his mentor.
The clash of orange and purple blades intensified as they pushed each other to their limits. Windu's controlled fury met Anakin's youthful passion, and in that moment, Anakin glimpsed the true power of Vaapad—the ability to turn darkness into light, to harness emotions for good, just as Windu had taught.
"Enough for now," Windu said, and Anakin dropped to his knees in exhaustion. "You promised the Creche Masters you'd entertain the younglings. You should get going."
"No praise for a job well done?" Anakin joked, knowing Windu's usual sternness.
"It was a great effort for a first time," Windu said, surprising Anakin. "Make sure to work just as hard in our next training session."
"Yes, Master," Anakin blinked in disbelief. "Thank you."
Well, I can add this to the list of things that have changed, Anakin thought, laughing in disbelief at what had just happened.
"Anakin!" Anakin laughed as he was received by the cheer of the younglings as soon as he entered the creche.
"Oh, how I've missed you little ones," Anakin hugged as many as he could. "Every time I come, you've grown even taller!" Anakin told them warmly, receiving happy giggles. "So, where did we end things last time?"
"You were teaching as Huttese!" Ahsoka, a beautiful orange tortuga with blue marking, answered excitedly.
"That's right," Anakin smiled warmly at his future palawan. Oh, how he had missed her. He went and plucked her from her spot, smiling widely when she squealed, and put her on his lap as he sat on the floor, surrounded by the younglings. "Have I told you the story of how the Suns of Tatooine were born?" They all shook their heads. "No?! How improper of me!" Anakin gave them all a mock resented expression, earning even more giggles. "I need to fix this soon!"
"Long ago, in the ancient days of Tatooine, when the sands were young and life was yet to thrive, there lived a divine being known as Ar-Amu, the Mother Goddess of the desert planet. Ar-Amu was a deity of both creation and destruction, wielding immense power over the very fabric of the world she inhabited.
In those times, the people of Tatooine lived in harmony with the land, cherishing the blessings of the gentle rains that would occasionally grace their parched world. But darkness loomed on the horizon. The masters, slavers from distant lands, sought to claim the inhabitants of Tatooine as their possessions, seeking to enslave the peaceful beings and profit from their toil.
Ar-Amu could not bear to see her beloved children, Luke and Leia, suffer under the yoke of slavery. She loved them deeply, for they were born from her essence and held the spark of life within them. Fearing the cruelty they might endure, she made a heart-wrenching decision—one that would change the destiny of Tatooine forever.
With tears streaming down her celestial face, Ar-Amu embraced her children one last time. In an act of mercy and sacrifice, she transformed them into two brilliant orbs of light—the twin suns of Tatooine. These suns would forever illuminate the skies above the desert planet, serving as a symbol of their love and a constant reminder of the injustice suffered by the people of Tatooine.
As the twin suns ascended into the heavens, they burned with a fierce and unyielding radiance, their light scorching the land below. It was said that the brightness and intensity of the twin suns represented the anger and disgust Ar-Amu felt towards the slavers and the hardships endured by her people.
In the wake of her sacrifice, something changed within Ar-Amu. The grief and anguish of losing her children left an indelible mark on her divine soul. Her tears ceased to flow, and with them, the rains vanished from Tatooine. The land, once relatively fertile, gradually transformed into a vast expanse of desert, with sand dunes stretching as far as the eye could see.
Some say that Ar-Amu's grief and sorrow created the arid landscape of Tatooine, while others believe that her divine power simply changed the nature of the planet. Regardless, the loss of her children left an eternal impact on the world she governed."
To this day, the tale of Ar-Amu, the twin suns, and the transformation of Tatooine is passed down through generations. For it is said that the spirit of Ar-Amu resides within the very heart of Tatooine, watching over her children, forever guiding them with the warm embrace of her celestial light."
The younglings in the creche at the temple listen in awe as Anakin recounts the ancient folklore, teaching them to understand the harsh beauty of their homeworld and the enduring spirit of the Tatooine people in the face of adversity.
"There's still slavery?" Barris asked softly. "Isn't it illegal? Isn't the Jedi suppose to help them?"
Anakin had to quickly hide his surprise at Barris' questions. How could someone so gentle and that cares so much, incriminated her own best friend for a crime she had committed? Then again, maybe it was because she was gentle and cared too much that she did so. Some people are not made for war and with how much the Jedi Order had left their path... no wonder so many had been dissatisfied and left or fell to the darkside.
Compared to what Anakin had done, Barris' actions were a child's game. If he got a second chance... why should she not get one too?
"The Hutt Space, most of the Outer-Rim and Wild Space, do not belong in the Republic," Anakin answered her gently. "There, they don't have the same rules and slavery runs rampant. The Jedi tries their best, but only a revolution can bring peace there, and the Jedi are peace keepers. Without the Republic's backing there's not much they can do either. But they try, Master Plo freed my mother I from slavery when I was eight years-old."
"You were a slave?" Ahsoka turned on his lap, and looked at him with wide open eyes, as everyone else gasped.
"I was, which is why my colorful robes are important to me," Anakin answered, hugging her closer. "They are my canvass, with which I express myself. Something I was not allowed before. Which is why I got a tattoo. It shows that I reached maturity as a free man." The cheerful mood, now was gloom and serious. "Not many Jedi, like me telling you this. But out there things work different. Keeping you sheltered it's not the right answer... especially, when you are about to get your own light sabers!" Anakin laughed, as the younglings cheered in excitement. Though, Ahsoka and Barris remained serious. These two are too mature for their age. "Remember, there's no sides in the Force," he told them gently. As the rest of the younglings celebrated, Ahsoka and Barris focused their attention on him. "When it comes to the Force, there's a dark and light side. There's a grey balance."
With that said, he left them to their Creche Master. Anakin smiled later that week when he saw Ahsoka and Barris practice with their new lightsabers.
White lightsabers.