Dying Embers- Anakin Skywalker

𝒫𝓇𝑜𝓁𝑜𝑔𝓊𝑒

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In the heat-soaked lands of the Tatooine, the harsh rays of the twin suns beat down onto the bent backs of slaves. Among these menial workers toiled a woman named Eilidh, whose beauty was like a poetic paradox amidst the austere surroundings. Her days were typically spent in grueling servitude, cleaning after her master's lavish feasts and maintaining the dusty homestead. Her sun-browned skin glistened with laborious sweat as she dutifully scrubbed leftovers from the previous night's dinner, imbued with a quiet perseverance that was her only solace. Early morning, the harshest time, found her master away and the Tatooine unusually peaceful.

On this particular morning, after the laborious cleaning of plates, Eilidh shed her maiden guise to embrace the merciless Tatooine heat, an ordeal of her daily marathons. The hot sand sizzled against her bare feet as she stepped onto it, the scalding sensation somehow pacifying her restlessness. Taking an indulgent pause before the onslaught of never-ending onslaught of chores, she pressed her back against the sandstone wall of the homestead.

She closed her eyes, basking in the rare moments of tranquility as the whispers of other slaves echoed in the wind. Sorrow and frustration were daily hymns in this landscape that knew not the melodies of joy and freedom. Eilidh sighed, aching for liberty, yearning for a place she could call her own.

Suddenly, a looming darkness engulfed her serenity. Her emerald eyes shot open to spot an eerily glowing purple mass hurling toward Tatooine, painting an ominous portrait against the backdrop of the blue sky. As the cosmic entity descended, oblivious slaves scattered in confusion and fear, their panic-stricken cries echoing in Eilidh's ears.

Fascinated and horrified, Eilidh watched the unknown celestial body crash destructively onto the surface, decimating habitations and injuring the unlucky. Yet, amidst the chaos and dust clouds, an unexplainable urge beckoned her toward the sinister purple rock. The sand crunching under her feet, she approached the eerie, glowing rock, its alluring energy drawing her in on an invisible leash.

Despite the havoc, despite the confusion, Eilidh reached out, her scarred hands making contact with the hard pulsating purple surface. A rush of energy flowed into her, causing her to stiffen with surprise. Abruptly, it exploded, pushing Eilidh back with a tremendous force. Her screams of pain echoed in the desolate sandy plains as her body absorbed the energy of the rock, coursing into every artery and vein like a relentless surge of electricity.

Searing pain overwhelmed her. She writhed in the burning sand, the desperate scream reverberating across the ruined landscape. Her blood and soul reacted violently to the intrusive force, connecting at a deep level with the unfamiliar magic coursing through her. Driven to the brink of consciousness, Eilidh bitterly wished for an end — an escape — a deathly relief from the torment.

Perhaps mercy heard her, or maybe destiny intervened. Exhausted and on the threshold of oblivion, Eilidh collapsed into a profound sleep that would last precisely 332 long Tatooine years. Unbeknownst to herself and the world, the arduous transfiguration was just the beginning of an extraordinary destiny, the spectacular metamorphosis of an ordinary slave into an unimaginably potent being, a transformation set in motion by the mysterious energy of the purple rock. All that remained was for Eilidh to awaken and embrace her newfound power.

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