Star Wars: The Chosen One || An Anakin Skywalker Story [COMPLETED]

Twenty-Four || Desmond Valero

"I've moved further than I thought I could. But I miss you more than I thought I would."

- Amber Run I Found

Narrator's POV

On the sandy, dry planet of Tatooine, scarcely populated by species of many kinds, there once lived a young human slave girl by the name of Kyla Valero.

She was very beautiful; she was known around Mos Eisley, belonging to a wealthy slaveowner by the name of Gibius the Hutt. She worked at the nearby cantina, serving drinks there nearly all her life. She hated living in Mos Eisley and hated being a slave with her brother, Desmond, and her father, a former Jedi who resided on the peaceful planet on Naboo until turning to the Dark Side and being imprisoned on Tatooine.

Most who lived in Mos Eisley and knew Kyla Valero always had nice things to say about her. Some said she was always the brightening to their day, whistling behind the sandy bar with her long, dark hair pulled back away from her petite face and framed eyebrows that worked perfectly to suit her. She would come to work every day with a smile, regardless of her situation of being a slave or the fact that she was beaten behind the scenes of her bubbly personality at work.

Even if she were hit on by an older creature of some kind, which happened often, she would find a way to make a joke out of it before calling her older brother in, Desmond Valero, to knock some sense into the guy.

Now, Desmond was much different than his baby sister. He hated being a slave as well, of course, but faced reality about it. He was an upfront kind of guy - or should be spoken, is. He is still Desmond Valero the citizens of Mos Eisley knew - but she is not the Kyla Valero they knew.

Kyla Valero, as some like to say, is a dead girl. She's dead, she's gone. They've faced it, they've overcome the reality that she is no more.

For some, the idea that the adorable teenage girl in Mos Eisley is dead is a very hard fact to come by. Desmond, for example, is broken. He cries himself to sleep every night, holding his head in his hands as he sits in a shaded corner of their hut on Tatooine, wondering just how the hell they got themselves in this situation. How they ended up like this.

Or Anakin Skywalker, Kyla Valero's once Jedi Master that trained her to harness her power, to use it wisely. She didn't listen to him, unfortunately. She didn't use her power the way she should have. And because of this, Anakin Skywalker might be considered just as broken as Kyla's brother, Desmond Valero.

Desmond was a wreck. He missed Kyla. He really did. They were inseparable; citizens of Mos Eisley recalled them going everywhere with each other, him always having her back. The old Hutt that owned them, Gibius, would beat Desmond for protecting Kyla, but even he saw how much he cared for her. Even the Hutt, before Kyla deliberately murdered him, saw how much her brother loved her.

Even Kyla knew.

Kyla loved her brother too, which is why she spared his fragile life in her wrath on Tatooine many months ago.

He sat and watched hopelessly as she thrashed around, killing everything that got in her way, but he wasn't one of those things. They got in a screaming fight; but she didn't kill him. As evil as the girl was turning out to be - she didn't kill him.

She knows he is still alive.

And he knows too.

The Jedi Council back on Coruscant wanted to get to know this girl. This eighteen-year-old girl that has classified herself as the most powerful, twisted being in the entire galaxy - a Sith Lord with complete reign. Kyla Valero.