Turn Back- A Star Wars Rebels Fanfiction

Prologue

Greetings, Padawans and readers! This is Tilah, writer of this here fanfiction! Hopefully this story won't turn out too badly, and if it does well, who knows? Maybe I'll write a sequel! Anyway, enjoy guys! May the force be with you!

A long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away...

A child stood alone in the rain.

It fell around her, making her cold and leaving her feeling more lost than before.

She stood at the grave of her mother, which was marked with a large stone and a wilting flower. She had died of an illness that the healers had not ever seen before, and had left her only daughter with words that made no sense at the time.

"They don't understand, Tilah. You have to run and hide from them. I was hoping that it would skip over you... But you.. You are force sensitive."

She wiped away her tears with the back of her sleeve, but it wouldn't have mattered. It was raining to hard to make a difference.

"What do I do? Where will I go?" She asked her mother, holding her cold hand. It felt frail, like it would break if she wasn't careful enough.

Tilah's mother touched her daughter's face. "You can't trust anyone now.. If only your father wasn't still tied up in his job... He could teach you how to control your powers."

Tilah froze in her seat, slightly worried. Her father had been dead for 4 years.

"I hope that he'll come visit me soon..." Her mother continued. "He needs to hide you now. You both need to run from the Empire... He told me that the Empire had taken an interest in his shop. But he told me that the force showed him that it wasn't because of what he sold."

Tilah still didn't say anything. Never before had she heard about her Father's death like this. 4 years ago, he went to the shop and didn't come back. With a face empty of emotion, her mother told her that he had picked a fight with a stormtrooper and had died for it.

"Tilah.. Find him. Make him train you. It's the only way that you'll survive with your powers. I know it's not your fault, but now, everyday, expect them to be looking. I don't doubt that this illness is just something they made to get to you."

"Mom? What are you talking about?"

"Tilah, how long have you been in this room with me? This disease should be contagious- but it's not. I think that it's meant to kill me so that they can get to you. Find your father and run."

Tilah squeezed her mother's hand.

"I can't leave you now."

"You don't have a choice." Her mother said, stroking Tilah's short black hair. "They'll come looking for you when I die. And that is soon. You need to go now."

So Tilah ran.

Now, she knelt at her mother's grave and added her own flower. A rose.

She turned and walked away from it, and told herself that she wasn't going to cry anymore.

She didn't have a choice if she wanted to survive.