There are few stories that are told among the Jedi Order long enough to become myth. Legend. It takes importance to stand the test of time that way. A lesson has to be learned.
Anakin and Circe's story is told for generations long after they are go...
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The next morning, Anakin's presence is choked.
Obi-Wan can feel the tension rolling off of him in tidal waves, crushing everything around him in a heavy smog. It doesn't take much prying into his feelings to see that he's upset, that something horrible plagues him and his thoughts. He's dark and clouded.
It feels as though he's holding one great, anxious breath.
The elder Jedi shakes his head, reminiscing on all the times he's told Anakin to do a better job of hiding his feelings. He's too open about them. He lets them fill up every room, waft over everyone else like a mist, dampening wherever he goes. A Jedi's strength lies in his ability to share when he wants to share, and hide what he must hide. But Anakin's thoughts and emotions run wild as the Kelita River of Mandalore.
"Bad morning?" He says, coming up behind his old Padawan.
The younger Jedi spins around, tensing his shoulders. "Master, good morning. How are you?"
Obi-Wan laughs. "I was just about to ask you the same thing. You seem troubled, Anakin. Your emotions are all over the place."
"Oh, no, I'm alright. I slept badly last night, that's all."
"Bad dreams?" He inquires.
Anakin looks away, overcome with something Obi-Wan can't place.
He can tell that whatever it is that's bothering his old student really has shaken him. He's never been the most introspective, his head was always up in some imaginary battle, even as a child. But Anakin's face now is solemn, and his eyes are an enormous blue, deep as oceans, and darker than any tide Obi-Wan has ever seen.
"Master, if you suspected that something horrible was going to happen—you weren't entirely sure—but you had reason to believe that it would, you'd do everything you could to make sure it didn't. Wouldn't you?"
"Riddles? Come now, what's troubling you?" He pushes. "You've foreseen a tragedy?"
"I had a vision," He says quietly, his composure shifting uneasily at the mention of it. "Something that I can't let happen."
"Well, sometimes these things must happen, we don't always understand why. Visions aren't always given to warn you for the purpose of prevention. Sometimes it's just so that you can prepare."
"No," Anakin says sharply. "Not this one, Master. It's Circe. I think she's in danger— I don't know why yet, but something will happen."
He breathes a sigh of relief. For a moment he feared the younger Jedi had truly seen something of importance, but it is just a boy's anxiety for his friend's safety.
"If it's Circe, you needn't worry. She's strong. There's no stronger Jedi in her class."
Anakin's eyes turn sharp and angry. "You're not listening!" His words echo throughout the empty stone hall.
