Luke wanted to question her but she
restrained him, placing a finger to his lips.
In continued silence they topped the rise and to his surprise, laid out
before them was a simple village of modest proportions, nestled snuggly against
the dark blue underbelly of a frozen wave.
He had time only to note that each of the small huts was roughly
cylindrical and of a uniform size before Khr’shaia put the animal to heel and
sent it flying off the trail into the darkness of the shadow of a towering snow
dune. White powder flew and blinded
him, and he coughed once before he heard her voice in his head commanding
silence. The inherent threat was
unnecessary. He was too surprised
to speak. Moments later, cloaked
and hooded figures mounted on dark grey Tauntauns passed within bow-shot of
them. Luke remained motionless
until the light from their torches had faded and then pivoted to challenge her.
“I thought this was your home.”
Her eyes were flint. Her mouth a knife’s edge.
“You are right. It was.”
Without another word, she moved the
beast back onto the path and began the long and treacherous descent.
Upon reaching the bottom
Khr’shaia turned once again from the path and followed a circuitous route Luke
was certain he couldn’t have remembered even under hypnosis.
After what seemed like an eternity, they reached their destination.
Remaining stubbornly silent, Khr’shaia led him to the back of an
unremarkable dwelling and then left him, shaking and clutching the handle of
an ancient blaster, to guard its rear door.
Luke's head was spinning, but he felt curiously exhilarated.
“Wait’ll I tell Biggs what he
missed by going to the academy,” he breathed to himself, fingering the device
at his waist the dark woman had forbidden him to use.
“He’ll never-“
“Luke.”
Her even tones startled him and he
jumped. She was standing right
beside him and he hadn’t even heard her approach.
Placing a hand on his shoulder, she beckoned him to follow. In her eyes he saw no reproach…only anticipation.
“Khr’shaia, I- “
“There is no time. Come with me.”
He followed her through the opened
doorway and into the modest home. The
only light they had came from her ignited lightsaber, and it glowed a deep
magenta, casting weird shadows on the unadorned walls that seemed to clutch and
grasp at him as he passed. There
was little furniture. A small table
fronted by a single bench huddled near an unkempt hearth, next to a raised
platform that held stacked furs for bedding. A crude altar, which bore
signs of recent attendance, filled the west wall.
Cakes and other offerings were piled carefully at its base, and upon its
rough surface, Luke noted, a bronze vessel of some sort rested filled with a
dozen or so shimmering stones. Upon
closer examination, he realized the crystals were similar to the one his
benefactress had employed to create their fire, only these were blue instead of
amber. As Khr’shaia moved deeper
into the room he reached for one, only to be startled when it shifted and opened
translucent wings that glistened in the waning
light of the saber.
“Hey!” he shouted, jumping back.
The dark beauty returned to take his
hand. “Khr’schlcts. The sapphire sisters are sacred.
Do not handle one unless you have been instructed as to its use.
The effect of their bite - while not deadly - is something less than
pleasant. Now come.”
Luke’s eyes narrowed as the
lightsaber’s eerie luminescence shot through the insect’s body like liquid
fire. Without warning, the bug took
to the air and headed straight for him. He
ducked, but before he could cry out, Khr’shaia extinguished her weapon and
drew him toward her, placing her hand over his mouth.
Together they moved into the darkest corner of the small room.
His heart pounding, Luke eyed the retreating insect as a pair of
tall figures passed by the door. When
the sound of their footsteps had diminished and darkness returned, he asked
hesitantly, “Are you a fugitive? Have
you committed some crime?”
He heard her draw a breath and hold it.
Finally she said, “All is not what it seems.
Be patient. Soon we
will both have the answers we
seek.”
Through darkness absolute he followed
her until they were forced to stop. Seemingly
frustrated, she placed her hands upon the solid wall and began to moan.
Strange, ululating sounds issued from the back of her throat, and her
body began to sway. Luke looked away, wishing to make certain the insect had not
followed him, and when he turned back, she was gone.
Luke's mouth fell open as he reached out and
grasped thin air. Like a shadow at
noon, Khr’shaia had vanished without a trace.
He shifted his position and ran his hands along the man-made surface
searching for a secret door. Unexpectedly,
a slender arm shot through the wall to grasp his hand.
Astonished, he floundered as he found himself engulfed in a crystalline
sea, unable to breathe. Seconds
later Luke emerged unscathed on the other side and fell to his knees gasping for
air. Before him, bathed in a
phosphorescent glow, the woman Khr’shaia knelt, her slender hands extended
toward a gigantic crystalline orb which filled the narrow passageway, pulsing
and scintillating with life. A warm
rush of air pervaded the enclosed chamber, stirring his blond hair and
whispering words without meaning, seeking to allay his fears.
Instead, it only served to increase them.
As Luke watched, Khr’shaia's dark
hands contacted the shimmering sphere. White
fire leapt from its surface to ripple like lightning across her dark silver
skin, lifting her hair until it whipped about her, crackling.
Oblivious of his presence, her full lips parted in silent prayer as a
magenta aura surrounded her and she seemed to communicate with something deep
within the sphere. Luke chose to
remain near the hidden entrance, his own questions hushed. Sometime later Khr’shaia stirred and turned to face him.
Her eyes were all iris with no pupil, enormous in a face become drawn and pale.
She hesitated and then said, “The
Eye wishes to speak to you.”
Luke pointed to his chest and mouthed,
“Me?”
Khr’shaia nodded as if in a dream and
slowly offered him a trembling hand. Luke
glanced at the glowing orb and backed away, shaking his head.
She shuddered and closed her eyes. When
they reopened, the black holes seemed to draw him in, subduing his will. Unable to resist, he walked to her side and took her hand.
“Place it thus,” she said woodenly,
indicating where he should position his left hand.
He copied her servile position, falling to his knees and reluctantly
making contact with the globe. Immediately
the image of the being within grew clear as day, as though a veil had parted
revealing a portal into another world. It
was a child. Or at least, it looked
like a child. A sea of diaphanous
hair billowed about its elfin face as though charged by the electricity that
constantly circled the globe. It
cast wavering shadows across a slender upturned nose and delicate rose-tinted
lips. Its eyes were closed, but
even so appeared enormous, encompassing fully half of its face.
It was naked, but showed neither breasts nor any other overt signs of
sexuality. Instead, its flawless
form seemed to dissolve below the navel, becoming one with the mist that
pervaded its spherical home.
Unexpectedly, a tender voice caressed his mind.
Fascinated, Luke replied, “Yes?”
Its lips did not move. “Brother.” It
said. “Son….child.
I must apologize for my sister-daughter Khr’shaia.
What she has done - while
not strictly forbidden
- is nevertheless far from wise.”
Luke could feel the woman beside him
flinch. “Why?” he asked,
“What has she done?” His hand
grew warm where it continued to press the sphere’s animated surface, and with
each passing moment, the child within grew ever more substantial.
Downy hair flanked its pale cheeks.
Luke could even see the tiny nerve jumping at the base of its throat.
“Tell me.”
Khr’shaia’s black brows met and a
petulant expression marred her beautiful face as he felt more than heard her
address the floating creature. Its
attention turned from him. Seconds
later, she let out a little cry and dropped her chin as though chastised. Momentarily, Luke felt its touch return to him.
“Even more
ill-advised would be the undoing of what she has begun.
Let it be. One question only
must you answer: Are
you here of your own free will?”
Luke hesitated.
He had been forced, even compelled
to come here, but had it really been against his will? He
remembered the thrill of hiding from those on the trail, and how exciting it had
been to wield the blazing lightsaber - if only for a moment.
He looked at the dark woman and felt no animosity.
“I would have to say…yes.
Even if she would have permitted me to go…”
He watched as her dark eyes sought him.
“…I would have chosen to stay. She
needs my help. People are dying.”
“Yes.”
The child nodded, causing the golden liquid which surrounded it to ebb
and flow like water in a still pool disturbed by a hastily tossed stone.
“And she
is the cause.”
Luke once again experienced
Khr’shaia’s emotions as they struck the strange childlike being.
Consternation. Outrage.
Embarrassment. This time her voice as well entered him.
“Great Ash’hl, you know
that is not true!”
Ash’hl waited several heartbeats
before countering quietly, “Just as you know that
it is.” The silvery woman
fell silent before her pale master. “Shall
I tell him or will you?”
Khr’shaia sighed and lifted one
quaking hand toward Luke’s sweat-soaked forehead.
“Let me.”
###
Luke was marginally aware of her hand
contacting his flesh, but his attention was focused on the floating child as its
eyes began to open, revealing great wells of eternity that threatened to consume
him. Black ice, they glistened and
gleamed, swallowing all light until he was lost in a ebon void and images of
another time replaced the dimly lit grotto his body occupied. A woman stood before him, encapsulated in blue-fire, her dark
spirit enthralled and entranced as she sought to barter for her servant’s
soul.
“This was my teacher, Ahl’var.
Long ago, she served the Inspirer. Now, she is a Darkling,
a creature which seeks all that the light shuns.” With Khr’shaia's words came crystal clear images of a woman
of her own race, of similar height but reed thin and willowy. A cave-dweller, she shunned the city and its people, choosing
instead to live apart with only a clan of great shaggy beasts for company.
“Much power there was in her and long she used it wisely and well,
instructing others and training adepts. Still,
one day, she came to believe the power had betrayed her.
One student outshone her… was stronger than she.
More powerful. Instead of
treasuring and nurturing such an apprentice, Ahl'var became consumed by jealousy,
and through the dark arts sought to make her own power grow.”
Tears filled Khr’shaia’s ebon eyes as she spoke.
“I was that student.
And I watched her descent into darkness and did nothing.”
The child’s eyes blinked once,
slowly, making Luke’s head spin.
Khr’shaia answered, “No, my words
are not true…. I did something.
I ran away.”
Within the depths of the Inspirer’s
eyes, Luke watched her headlong flight. Days
later she arrived at this place, the city of the
Eye, and was welcomed by its citizens, for she was strong with the
life-force of the planet and able to heal the old and infirm.
They gave her a name and a place to live, but soon a black shadow began
to creep across the land killing the old, and infecting their young men and
women. In time, all whose lives she
had touched began to die. Deep in the night they were visited with terrors that left
them writhing in agony. Those who
had the courage to see them through their fevered dreams reported hearing
strange noises, garbled words that once uttered, seemed to conjure dark spirits
from the air. The darkness had
killed them. Darkness - and
the stranger who had come to town.
Khr’shaia’s hand withdrew and her
presence dwindled to nothing. Luke
unwillingly broke his connection to the
orb, blinking as he readjusted to the muted light of Ash’hl’s environment.
The beautiful silver-skinned woman
lay upon the floor, sobbing. The
creature shifted, gazing first at her and then meeting the young
man’s puzzled eyes. When
it spoke this time, it’s pale lips moved.
“So it was with H’lall.”
The vision was faint this time, like a watercolor wash, as though the
images projected were filtered through another’s mind.
Luke saw Khr’shaia and a man of her race moving in tandem deep in the
night, and felt their spirits soar and merge.
Later as they slept, arms entwined, the raven-haired youth began to moan
and then to thrash, finally shrieking and crying out wild words, only one of
which Luke recognized.
H'lall was calling out Khr’shaia's
name.
She shuddered where she lay on the
floor as though she too had heard his death gasp anew.
“It was my fault,” she sobbed, “is
my fault.”
Luke’s heart ached. He held Ash’hl’s disquieting gaze and asked, “What can
I do?”
The child closed its great dark eyes and withdrew into the shimmering swirls of amber liquid.
“Khr’shaia knows.”
###
Upon returning to the altar room, Luke
endeavored to shake off the lingering strangeness of the encounter.
He glanced at the shaken woman beside him.
She was several shades paler than when they arrived.
Evidently, the interview had not gone as she expected.
He reached for her hand and sought to offer some comfort.
“It’s really not your fault, you know….
You weren’t ready to face her. You
couldn’t possibly have won.” He
stopped, abruptly aware of a strange resonance which sounded throughout his
weary frame. He shivered and then decided to ignore it.
“Khr’shaia….”
Her flinty eyes flashed and he was
surprised to find the spark brought anger.
She wrested free and spat, “Fool!”
Her silvery arms wrapped about her
quaking shoulders as she snapper, “I should have left you to freeze!”
Shocked by her vehemence, he
nevertheless refused to take offense. “You
don’t mean that. Earlier you said
I was the one -“
Khr’shaia met his gaze and a
cavalcade of emotions rolled through her black eyes.
“Once I thought so. Now….”
Abruptly, she fell silent, turning toward the blackened space that opened
onto the street. Then she cried out
in warning, “Luke!“
He saw the light coming even as she
spoke and started to duck for cover, but at that moment one of the Khr’schlcts
stirred and chose to fly straight for him, firmly imbedding its claws in the
loose fabric of his shirt.
“Do
not move!” Khr’shaia cautioned, “If you value your sanity….”
She took a step toward him but hesitated as torches blazed beyond the
open doorway, illuminating her dark hair and leather cape.
Fire shone in her eyes, but it was a fire without fuel, all too quickly
consumed. Luke recognized her
danger, but had thoughts only for his own.
Inches from his heart the sapphire bug regarded him with multi-faceted
eyes of jet-black.
Seconds later two thick-set women,
dressed in leather breeks and fur, stepped into the room followed by a man
swathed in white furs, bearing a bronze circlet on his head that was decorated
with a stylized rendition of one of the sapphire Khr'schlcts.
The women leveled meter-long glass rods at Khr’shaia as the
dark-skinned man deliberately turned his back on her.
He was obviously some sort of holy man, and Luke was startled when his
companion knelt before them without protest and subserviently held her wrists
out as though waiting to be bound. Instead
a brilliant green light arced from the end of the crystalline spear to touch her
chest and she fell without a sound. Luke
automatically stepped toward her and then winced and held his breath, waiting to
feel the insect’s bite. Unexpectedly,
the tiny creature merely buzzed and with a sharp shift of its shining wings,
flew away. Confused, Luke pressed
his hand against his shirt and looked down, missing the green ray that flew from
the end of one of the rods toward his chest.
He hit the floor before he knew what
had hit him.
###
Luke groaned and opened his eyes.
He was outside beneath a crystal clear
sky, and as a shudder ran the length of his lean frame, he realized he had never
been so cold in all of his life. His
hands and feet felt practically nonexistent and his head throbbed, nauseating
him. He wanted to curl into a tight
ball in order to preserve his body heat and to fight a wave of sickness that
washed over him, but found he couldn’t. Shivering
again, he peered down the length of his chest and saw that his boots were
missing. Strips of leather bound
his stocking feet to two crystalline stakes which were hammered into the frozen
tundra. Shifting his head, he
noticed his hands were similarly bound, and as he fought off the first wave of
panic, managed to place the tall muscular woman who wielded the mallet.
She had been one of the pair at Ash’hl’s.
Luke looked for Khr’shaia and found her several meters away,
unconscious, stripped of her outer garments and tethered as well to the cold
unyielding ground.
“Hey!,” he shouted through chattering teeth. He was clothed only in a sleeveless grey shirt and leggings.
“W-what do you think y-you’re doing?”
The man in white furs came to stand
over him and regarded him solemnly. Sadly,
he shook his head, and then raising his hand to touch the jeweled ornament of
his circlet, signaled the second woman. When
she stood at his side, he pointed to Luke.
Before the half-frozen young man could open his mouth to protest, she had
splashed a ritual cup of ice-cold water over his quaking form.
Luke began to shiver uncontrollably as the shaman shook a bone and bead
rattle above him, muttering ceremonial words he couldn’t understand.
Ice crusted on his exposed skin even as the trio moved to perform a
similar rite over his silent companion. Khr’shaia
lay still as death, her haunting face turned so the light of their torches
illuminated it’s silver flesh gone pale.
Black blood stained her full lips and spilled from a deep gash on her
forehead. Rage filled Luke as he
realized she had been beaten.
He drew a deep breath and held it,
seeking to control his anger. Expending
what little energy he had cursing their captors was not only foolish - it could
prove fatal. Luke knew he had to conserve
his strength. However, as the
shaman and his assistants completed their cruel mission and began to move away
swiftly into the surrounding darkness, that resolve abruptly vanished and he
began to thrash wildly, desperate to uproot one or all of the stakes.
A quarter of an hour later Luke lay
exhausted, drifting toward unconsciousness even as the heavenly aurora painted
the white landscape fire-red. Early
evening was upon them and the temperature had plunged well below freezing.
He knew he was dying. His
pulse had slowed and his tongue felt thick.
Visions of those he had known and lost wafted before his eyes, calling
him as he felt the first fingers of false fire creep along his flesh.
Soon he must surrender, and then farm boy from arid Tatooine would die a
death he could not have - in his
wildest dreams - conceived.
So much for adventure and
excitement….
Luke closed his eyes and wished with
all of his being that there was some
way he could survive.
“Perhaps
there is…young Skywalker.”
Luke’s eyelids fluttered open.
Someone was talking. He
slowly rotated his head to look at his companion, but Khr’shaia was still
unconscious. All about the landscape seemed to be uninhabited.
The only thing that appeared to be moving
was a small blue blur shifting on the light grey fabric of his shirt.
“M-must be crazy,” he murmured, drifting toward eternal sleep, “or
hallucinating….”
“No.
Merely prejudiced.”
He frowned and roused himself enough to
seek the source of the voice and found that, even though the words seemed to
echo within
his head, it originated somewhere near the center of his body.
His eyes crossed and momentarily brought into focus one of the small
lapis lazuli Khr’schlcts The bug rested on his shirt and seemed to stare at him
in return, fixing him with a thousand ebon eyes.
Luke drew in a deep breath and watched it rise and fall with his chest.
It was really there.
But was it talking to him?
Luke fought off sleep for a moment more
and, feeling foolish, asked through chattering teeth, “Excuse m-me?
D-Did you say s-something?”
The Khr’schlct beat its sheer wings
but said nothing more. Luke opened
his mouth to speak again, but instead sucked in frigid air as another of the
bugs descended to his chest…and another…and
another. Before he knew it,
literally hundreds of the shining beings covered his cold form, transferring a
little of their body-heat to him. Soon
he found it possible to both stay awake and speak without his teeth banging
together. Chagrined, he whispered,
“Thank you.”
The voice resounded within his head.
Intensified. Stronger. “It
is only a temporary measure, one that will allow you time to think.
We can warm you this way for only a few minutes…your companion as well.
If you do not do something, you both will die.”
Luke narrowed his eyes and searched for
the first creature, the one he was almost certain had approached him in the
village. “But what can I do?
I’m trussed like a captive Krayt.
I have no power - "
“But
you do.”
The
voice was firm, unyielding. “You
have great power. Search your
heart, Luke. It will remember what
your head denies.” Other
voices joined the first, chanting in chorus.
“Remember, Luke, remember who you are!”
Luke lay his head back on the cold
packed snow and closed his eyes in defeat.
“I know who I am. I’m
the nephew of a moisture farmer on a backwater world called Tatooine.
I wanted to go to the academy…to be a pilot. I guess I’ll never go now - "
“No!” Anger
flashed through the creatures’ tenuous hold on his skin. “You are much
more.” He looked up to see
one of the blue bugs hovering near his chin.
“We
will show you.”
Living crystal, the bug alighted near
his left eye and gently scraped the skin of his cheek near one of the scars
Khr’shaia had noticed. At once
sight and sound exploded in Luke's head. He
saw Obi-Wan Kenobi rescuing him in the desert of Tatooine and watched as the old
man placed his father’s lightsaber in his hand.
Heard him explaining that one day he too would learn the ways of the
Force. Luke remembered Han and
Leia, Chewie and all of the rest of his friends who struggled valiantly against
the iron fist of Palpatine’s greed, and once again relived his own part in the
drama. He flew through the Death
Star’s narrow chasm and launched the torpedoes that impacted
deep within it, causing it to self-destruct. Later, there had been a ceremony and a princess….
And then he saw Yoda and winced as guilt stabbed him.
He had given his word and then broken it, interrupting his training to go
face Vader….
He remembered Vader….
And awoke with a scream.
The Khr’schlct quivered and shook a drop of bright red blood from its
front leg. “It
is enough.” Bright black eyes shone as words rang in his head.
“Now do you remember who you are,
Jedi?”
Tears welled in his eyes.
He remembered Ben, Yoda, the Force, even Vader, but still there was
something more. Something he
hadn’t the courage to face. Swallowing his pride, he lied boldly, “Yes, I remember.”
The Khr’schlct paused and then asked,
“Can you call your weapon?
It is nearby.”
The thought of the lightsaber cheered
him. He imagined it in his hand and
moments later felt its solid hilt slip between his frigid fingers. “Yes.”
“Good,”
the insect proclaimed as one by one its fellows began to hum and rise into the
air. Moments later they hung en
masse over him like a living blanket.
“Free
yourself.”