Choose Your Words || A Obi-Wan Kenobi/Anakin Skywalker Story

Chapter 27: Protect Him

It all happened so fast. Obi-Wan doesn’t really know what it was. All he knows is that the Force had pulled him backward, out of the way, before the blast wave had the chance to hit him.

Darkness coiled tightly around him like a protective cocoon, hissing angrily at the offending force of the explosion and pushing it back, away from him, so the wave of the flame washed over him, never touching his skin, and he watched, as if in slow motion, how the ceiling of the Council Chamber tumbled down.

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"No!” he shouts but doesn’t hear his own voice – only the pain echoing through the Force.

Somebody’s arms encircle his waist, holding him back, pulling him away.

“No! Let me go! I must help…” Obi-Wan tries to wriggle out of the grip, but the hold on him is secure.

“No, Master! Please!”

Slow and disoriented, Obi-Wan barely registers that it is Anakin’s voice pleading into his ear over the high-pitched ringing in his head. “They are gone. There is nothing you can do for them.”

“No, I must try! Let go!” Obi-Wan urges frantically, kicking and twisting in his Padawan’s arms, but Anakin doesn’t budge.

“Master, the tower is going to collapse. We gotta go! Please!” he tries to reason, his voice strained with urgency and despair, but then he probably sees that Obi-Wan is too shocked to listen to him because he just grabs him tighter and pushes with the Force, throwing them both out of the shattered window...

They are falling in the chaos of their billowing tunics, Anakin’s embrace holding Obi-Wan securely, tucking him safely into his body like the most precious fragile thing, while their Light and Darkness swirl around them, spreading like two wings – black and white – eager to assist and break their fall.

Above them, the remnants of the Council Tower crumble with a sharp cracking sound when the structure snaps in half in the middle like a broken sword. And they watch it, having landed safely on the roof of the Temple, they watch it fall and shatter to dust… As though the Force abandoned it as soon as Obi-Wan’s faith did.

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“No, no, no. It can’t be. It can’t be...” the Jedi keeps whispering in shock and disbelief as he falls to his knees, no longer held back or propped up by Anakin’s arms.

Anakin is standing beside him, his gaze averted from his Master’s grief, letting him mourn his loss for a moment.

The sirens are still blaring in the wailing wind. The remaining towers are burning like torches, the ash swirling in the air and falling down like snow, landing beautifully into the auburn fire of Obi-Wan Kenobi’s hair.

A crown of sorrow.

Who could have thought the prophecy would come to life so soon? What seemed like an improbable, distant future just a few days ago is a terrible reality now.

A sudden gust of wind – and the once azure banner of the Jedi Order is ripped off the central tower and thrown down. It falls to the ground at Anakin’s feet, torn and smoldering at the edges.

It’s all over for the Jedi: their High Council is gone, and the Order is no more.

Anakin picks up the fine, silver-embroidered fabric. Ruined now.

And, frankly, Anakin couldn’t care less, but the pain and suffering of the other Jedi dying somewhere under the debris of the burning Temple are suffusing the Force, oily, and sticky, and impossible to shake off.