Chapter 1

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

At the beginning of the Republic, people's childhood was full with tales about the Jedi; these powerful, selfless warrior that protected the civilization during the Great Galactic War. They were children's heroes, idols. No one can defeat a Jedi and that's what make them even more special. But that was just it, tales, stories created by old fools -or oracles as they called themselves- then was renewed in bedtime stories by mothers and fathers who didn't want their child to lose the freedom of dreaming too fast. However children grew up, they learned, they took their responsibilities, they accepted the reality and the dreams, the lies, faded away.

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Waarin took a sip of his blue milk, his gaze wandering far away beyond the wooden palisade that isolated their small village from the majestuous, out of sight, yellow-green meadow. In fact, if you look out at it, you couldn't see anything but the meadow, not even the other small villages that were at less than a khelter away. Looking at it now, from his sit on the deck of the local Dome, the young twelve rotations old boy couldn't help but dream of adventures. What was on the other side? How do the seasonal traders to find their way to the Corridor without getting lost in the sea of campaign that was the meadow? If HE decided to leave the small village, could he found his way to the Republic's core? You never know before you try... remembered Waarin, a small grin on his face. He was pulled out of his thoughts when a small yet firm hand shook his shoulder roughly.

He jumped in surprise and turned his head around so fast he was sure he heard a 'crack'. Looking up, his eyes immediately met the brown orbs of a girl not much older than he was, her light brown hair were held in a high ponytail with which the perpetual wind of Ansion played harmoniously. Under her knee-length cocoa coat and slate gray bandana, she wore the typical Ansonian outfit: loose, dark green pants with brown, ankle-length, lace boots and a loose, crossed collar shirt whither all tons of beige mixed accordingly yet modestly. She also wore the traditional feminine brassard that each girl had to wear; it was a symbol which the meaning was lost with time. Despite her serious, grow-up look, he would always see his best friend as the little, naive girl whose smile never faded.

"The Sagart wasn't happy that you weren't in there, again, you know," she said, waving her hand in front of the polished wooden doors of the Dome.

"I don't really care, Bant'."

"Well, we did, big dreamer. Your parents are worried already. They don't want you to become a no-goal man, or worst, an oracle."

He only shrugged. She rolled her eyes. "You cannot stay in your dreams forever, Waarin. The longer you stay, the worst it would be to accept your responsibilities and with that, the truth."

He sighed, turned his head in the opposite direction without a word. He knew, like the other before him, like his parents still in there, like his friends, that the Jedi weren't true, that they were just stories, creative and wonderful stories, but stories nonetheless. He knew he shouldn't stay like this; passing his days dreaming of adventures and his nights wandering in the immensity of the starry sky; that he should, like Bant'ena said, take his responsibilities and forget the silliness of the tales and listen to what the Sagart, the representative of the Brave Circle, source of knowledge since thousand years, but a part of him didn't want to let go, a part of him wondered 'What if...' He didn't register that his friend had sat next to him until she put a gentle hand on his shoulder.

"I know it's hard for you to accept it, but you have to... One day."

He felt something drop on his knees and looked down. Holding the crystal blue wooden blade and the small plastikowy shield he used when he played Jedi versus Sith with his friends (before they turned twelve because it was as this state that the strict laws and protocol of the Republic took its place in a life), he turned to look at her, surprised. She only smiled, looking at something on his left.

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