JOURNAL OF SAND AND WIND by Lady Shada

Reposted with permission of the author!


To lose a padawan...

Of all the nightmares I have ever dreamed, of all the horrors I have ever visited in my mind as well as in reality...this is the one I had not expected. No, this had come by surprise.

Then again, perhaps I am fooling myself. Perhaps it all goes back to those first few fateful days, back when I shook that young hand. If I had known this would have been my destiny...

No, if this had been my destiny—to sit in this hovel as the wind whips outside, the sand blows up against the doorway and underneath the small opening at the bottom—I probably would have chosen this future for myself, for my deeds...for my failure as a master. I could live with this if I knew it was only myself that I had failed.

But there are so many others. Too many to count, to name, to...to even dream.

I faltered in a promise. One piece of life I had prided myself in, one part of my soul that had made up Obi-Wan Kenobi, was my word. I made an effort each time I made a promise—I would see it through to completion. I couldn't leave it sit there, festering, unanswered and unprovided for. Trust is a deep thing, a true thing, that needs to be nurtured and allowed to grow. That trust was found in how one answered their promises, I learned.

I wonder now how Master Qui-Gon would think of me. Once before, I had broken his trust, given up my training—ignorant foolish child—for a cause that I saw fit for fighting. Melida/Daan had been a mistake; I see that now. Only with time did I recognize what Qui-Gon himself had already seen, had already foreseen. Perhaps there is a difference between knowledge and wisdom. Perhaps I lack the latter.

My promise had been made to Qui-Gon upon his death—I would take that boy, Anakin Skywalker, as my own apprentice and train him.

I promised. And I followed through...

...from a certain point of view.

I did take Anakin as my apprentice. I trained him as best as I knew how, having my own training prematurely cut short before I even realized what had truly happened. The bond the developed between Anakin and I was never as strong as I had hoped. It left me guessing as to what I had done incorrectly, what move I had made in the match that had caused me to lose. Perhaps it was simply that the boy had bonded first with Master Qui-Gon instead of me; after all, he was the one to find Anakin, to be the first true father figure in my young padawan's life. Perhaps that was the reason.

Another part of my mind, of my heart, believes it was me. To harbor a bitter...coldness after a death is not a healing thing. But I can't truly say I was cold, either. I was...in hiding, yes, perhaps. As a Jedi, I was expected to be calm, serene, even in the face of my own master's murder. I would not permit myself tears, except for behind closed doors. When I was out from underneath the watchful eye of my masters and my padawan, then I would allow myself the emotion, each throat-tearing sob killing my heart as I relived that moment.

It's still with me. Every night, I relive my horrors, and that is just one of them.

My next promise had been made to Anakin Skywalker. To that young boy, so vibrant and alive and with a passion for learning. Never have I seen a student at the Temple so quick in his studies, in his pursuit for knowledge. He seemed to want to have it all, know it all, as quickly as possible. I remember those days...regardless of the pain that I still carried inside, those days were some that made me smile. They were moments when I believed that I could succeed in my goal, in my promise to my master...

...and my promise to Anakin. He would become a Jedi. I had said the very same words to him as we both stood over Qui-Gon's pyre. I had uttered them truthfully, honestly, and with every conviction in my heart that I would see that through, for my master's sake as well as for the boy's.

I saw Anakin become a Jedi. I held that blonde Jedi braid within my fingertips, taking the ceremonial cutting knife and neatly slicing the twined strands off near the scalp. It was a time of war. We needed all the Jedi Knights we could procure, and while I believed Anakin was not ready, the Council saw it fit to promote him from his padawan status. Perhaps they found it necessary more than fit; I do believe that regardless of the decision, Master Yoda partially agreed with me, but in dire times, drastic measures are needed.

If only I had seen Anakin succeed as a Jedi. Then I would have felt like I had accomplished my promises to both men.

Instead I saw destruction. Anger and hurt and pain...

I don't even—I can't even begin to express how much...

I am certain the history holos will record the story with far more accuracy than I can. But I know they will tell more of the horrors of Lord Darth Vader than they will of my former padawan, Jedi Knight Anakin Skywalker. A good man, a trusted friend...turned by power and corrupted by evil. I failed you, my friend. For that, I am truly sorry.

My last promise, perhaps my greatest, was made to the galaxy. To keep and protect, to promote justice and serve as a symbol of honor and peace. I look around now—where there is no protection, no justice aside from the twisted logic of the Emperor. There is no honor is his methods of war, and with his war there is no hope of peace. In my failure to Anakin, I have failed a galaxy of people.

I have watched them murdered, watched them tortured. Heard the screams and seen the scarred faces and bodies of those who the Empire has found. Every night I'm haunted by the echo of their words, of their wordless cries as they reach out, seeking for help and finding that I have none to give. One man standing in a brown robe...amongst so many dead and dying. I saw the destruction of my own Temple. My own padawan confronting me with his lightsaber. I...I don't even...

That is a story the history books will not share. And neither will I—not tonight. Perhaps, if I can...no, another time. I want to prolong the dreams this evening.

Part of me is grateful for the solitude here. Part of me has longed so deeply for it. At the same time, I miss the comfort of what I once had, of the life that I had known. And while I know there is no sense looking at the past, it is all I have to look at. All I have to judge myself on.

Aside from this piece of the future. This one piece of Anakin that's left. I'll have to watch the boy carefully from afar, but I believe that perhaps this is a second opportunity that the Force has graced me with. Even if I am not permitted to train Luke Skywalker in this moment, this young one will find his way in the Force. I am almost certain of that. His promises will not be broken.

There is so much that I need to lay out in my mind, so I thought perhaps laying it out in plain view might be of aid to me. As of now, I don't know how much good this will do. I thought that my life as a Jedi would be productive; I thought that this endeavor to write would be productive. What is keeping the latter effort from failing...just as the former had.

So much of this does not make sense, and for that I owe my apologies to whomever might be reading this. You do not have the full story, nor do I believe you ever will. But I can only ask for an open mind, one willing to take in the thoughts and not pass judgment upon their author. I feel I have judged my past enough, and I have reached my conclusion.

But as I said before, I cannot look to the past. And as I've been taught, I cannot look to the future. I must keep my thoughts in the here- and-now where they belong. That is one thing I remember, Master.

I remember that...