ℝ𝔸𝕋𝕀𝕆ℕ𝔸𝕃 ➵ o. kenobi {my only hope; book 1}

【 TWENTY-ONE 】

     ɪ ʟᴇᴀɴᴇᴅ ʙᴀᴄᴋ ɪɴᴛᴏ ᴍʏ ʙᴇᴅ, watching out the tall windows as the sky slowly burned from orange and purple hues to a dark blue. The skyline lit up with the speckle of buildings scattered across the entire planet. This had used to be one of my favorite views in the world. Now... it felt different somehow.

It was scary to me to think about how much I'd changed in just three days. How much a simple Jedi Knight, his apprentice, and a young boy could change how I felt about the world, my life... about the Jedi Order. I'd gone through so much since leaving three days ago, nothing on Coruscant felt the same.

I tried to force myself to stop thinking about that. Qui-Gon, Obi-Wan and Anakin had to go down in my past like foggy memories if I were to continue my route toward becoming a Jedi Knight. My emotional control lessons with Qui-Gon would be nothing more than that--lessons. And any encounter I had with Obi-Wan would be nothing more than that--a simple encounter.

I turned my head over in my bed, glancing at my singular bedside table. Getting an idea, I reached into the drawer and pulled out my old letter from Padmé, looking it over again. I traced my hand over the inked scribble with a sad smile. I'd never imagined when I'd received this letter just how much trouble it was going to cause me.

"I sense your mind is clouded, my young padawan," Kera said, not looking up from the desk. She was in my room with me as she often was, filling out some paperwork at my desk while I sulked on my bed.

"I guess it is, a little. I'm just thinking." I sighed, staring at the letter, wondering what to do with it. Now that the issue was in the past, I wouldn't need to dwell on the issue anymore, but it felt strange to part with it after having it for so long. It was almost a comfort to have... an assurance that Padmé was with me, even when she wasn't.

"Try to clear your mind," Kera recommended, scribbling something on her paper. "Especially after that mission, you need to be particularly in tune with your emotions."

I thought about that. She was right. I needed to be in tune with my emotions... have a handle over myself. And that meant I couldn't keep holding this letter.

"Yes, Master," I said finally, and gathered all of my courage. Taking a deep breath, I slowly began to rip the letter in two; I guided the split straight down the middle, not intending to stop, but when one of Padmé's sentences caught my eye, I hesitated. "Master?"

"Yes, Emeré?"

I read the sentence again. I have not the knowledge of the Force that you do, and I may not be sensitive enough to use it as a talent, but I was born with some of it in me.

"Why do you think I was born Force-sensitive?" I queried. Kera finally looked over at me, her eyes confused at my question. "I mean, neither of my parents had the Force, and as far as I know, neither did my grandparents. Yet I do."

Kera tilted her head. "It happens a lot, Emeré. You don't need to have force-sensitive parents to be born force-sensitive. In fact, most Jedi are born that way."

"Yeah, but..." my voice trailed off before I could tell her that didn't make sense. Padmé's secret was one she'd shared with me and me alone, and it wasn't up to me to decide who to share it with.

"Look." Kera stood, walking over to my bed, taking a seat in front of me so that our knees were touching. "Don't worry about it, alright? Anomalies happen. You have nothing to be scared about."

I shrugged. "I'm not scared. More curious." I swallowed, and tried to sound offhand. "Is it possible for a non-force-sensitive couple to have two force-sensitive kids? Or three? Or four?" I hoped I wasn't sounding too annoying, but I wanted to find a way to ask my question without making it seem like I was asking about me and Padmé.