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Title: To Weave the Tapestry: Part 1
Auhor: Alena (alena.of.riol@gmail.com )
Rating: NC-17
Characters: OFC, Anakin Skywalker/Darth Vader
Category: AU, Romance

Warnings: Contains major spoilers to RotS, WIP

Disclaimer: Lucas is my Master; I shall not want money. He maketh me buy endless items of Vader on ebay, and lusteth after men in black. The Force compells me to create this AU and thus I will obey. ^_^

Summary: A young girl on a planet in the Outer Rim has her coming of age occur in a rather unprecedented manner.

This story takes place at the end of RotS.

Chapter 1

"I can heal your body, but I cannot heal your soul."

Alena remembered that it was a sunny day. Both suns were bright and visible, the air was fresh, and it was a nice, calm spring day. Her mother was in the kitchen, cleaning. She was trying to help but she really wanted to be outside, playing. Perhaps in the garden where the flowers were everywhere in splashes of beautiful color. And the roses, she loved the roses. When they were in bloom she would go up to them and smell them, smell every single rose, for every one of them smelled wonderful and they were velvety soft and pretty to look at.

She loved the roses.

"Mama, I'm coming," she had answered when her mother had called her indoors to help clean the kitchen.

She remembered this, remembered running inside, albeit reluctantly. She remembered drying dishes while her mom washed them. Answering questions about school. Yes, classes were fine. She excelled in her courses. The teachers always called on her, and she always had the answers. She did well and she liked what she was learning. History bored her while science moved her. They were covering astronomy. She loved astronomy.

She remembered standing at the window, looking out longingly at the flowers. She wanted to be outside. She turned back to her mother, who continued to hand her dishes to dry. Alena looked at the plate. It was a beautiful ceramic plate, reddish-brown with a dark, burgundy striping along the rim. The heat from the suns streaming in from the window felt warm on her face.

Mama was talking, and Alena was half listening. Study your history, Mama was saying. History is important. It may be boring, but it is important. Yes, Mama, of course. History is important. I'll be good, Mama, I'll do well in history. Someday I may even be a professor like Papa.

Her face was warm from the suns, and her hands dried the plate carefully.

And her mind wandered, and she began to daydream. She thought it was daydreams, at first, but it seemed as if it took a strangely different turn from her usual daydreams of space exploration and spaceships and stars and suns. Alena saw fire, and sand. She heard a strange humming sound. She saw blazing lights. They were blue. Hot blue, blazing sticks that clashed together, and two men that bore them.

Alena blinked. Her face felt warmer. She shook her head, trying to clear it, and willed herself to listen to her mother. Her mother was talking to her about how important it was to study. She was a bright girl, Alena. She was doing well in school. This would prepare her for her future. Think of your future, Alena.

The future. The room went black, and she stood in what was no longer her kitchen but saw before her blazing fire and two men with swords clashing. At first she didn't recognize them, but soon realized that she had seen of their faces on the HoloNet.

'They can't be fighting, they wouldn't fight.' Everything felt hot. She felt hot, and the place they were at felt hot. She could almost feel the sweat on their faces as their sabers clashed. Fires spew everywhere. What was going on? Where were they?

"Alena, have you been listening to me?"

The two men didn't say this, but someone had said this. Her mother. Her mother, whom she could no longer see, was still speaking to her.

"Mama," she heard herself say, "I don't feel so good."

Her hands reached out for the counter. She had to put down the dish, somewhere, but she couldn't see. She could hear the two men yelling at each other. You underestimate my power.

A cool hand pressed itself to her forehead. She could feel the gentle, worrying touch of her mother.

"Alena, you're burning up. I'll handle the rest of the dishes. Go to your room and go lie down." Her mother grabbed the plate out of her hand and gently pushed her to the stairs. "Go, go now. I'll call you when dinner is ready."

She remembers saying something she can't entirely remember, something such as, "Mama, I cannot see, I just see fire."

Liquid fire everywhere, two pairs of blue eyes blazing as two bright blue sabers clashed.

Somehow, she has assistance. She can feel herself taking each step up the stairs, her body knowing what to do, having run up and down a million times up those stairs since she was little. Her room is at the top. She cannot see, she does not remember being there. Her last image at this point is of her, lying in bed, the suns blazing through the windows. They are open, and the winds blow in.

"Mama, two Jedi are fighting each other. Why would Jedi fight, Mama?"

"Alena, be quiet. You've got a fever. Jedi would never fight each other. The Jedi are good people. Now, go to sleep. I'll get you some medicine."

"Mama-"

She cannot speak anymore; she is too hot. She loses her physical vision again, and this time, she can almost feel herself standing on hot rocks and sand. The man in front of her looks wild, angry, like an animal unleashed. She knows whom it is that she sees, but her eyes scarcely believe it. His exploits are famous. The girls in her class giggle over him and his partner, another Jedi like himself. They are famous, and everyone loves them. They are heroes. They argue over whom it is that they will marry someday, and everyone says that their chosen Jedi is best.

Anakin Skywalker. She no longer knows if she is speaking aloud, or in her head. She just knows that the man in front of her is not the man from her HoloNet; his eyes are hotter than the fire that she stands on. And her face burns, Alena is burning. She feels as if she can feel her world spinning, and it is going terribly fast in the sky. Her stomach is beginning to spin with the world. There is another name in her head, Vader. She doesn't recognize it, but when she hears it, she can feel darkness and black metal.

Her next memory is of her mother sitting by her bed, holding onto her hand. She looks horribly worried, tired, and her eyes convey something that Alena can't describe let alone understand. There is another man by her bed, the family physician. He is shaking her head at her, as if in grim disapproval. Alena has the horrible sense that she has done something wrong, someone disapproves of her. They disapprove of her. She is burning up, and it is all her fault.

The room goes black again, and she sees the wild-eyed man. He is face down, crawling with one arm on black sand. She looks on in horror. His legs are gone, and he has but the one arm, the one mechanical arm that had replaced his other, lost to him in some other battle. She vaguely remembers hearing about it, but is awe-struck. His skin is burning, his clothes are burning. She is burning.

Suddenly his body goes up in flames, and her world is ablaze.

Mama, I'm sorry, and she doesn't remember if she said this aloud or in her head as her world goes to black.

Her next memory is no less strange than the last. She is in a room, a darkened room. There is a bright artificial light overhead. The man is there, and he is badly burned. She can feel the burns, she is burning, and he is screaming. There are droids there, and they are moving about the room but she does not see what they are doing. She does not know what they are doing. She only knows that she is in this room. She does not know how she got here, only that she is no longer seeing things in her head.

Alena is there, in that room. Years later, she could still hear the screaming.

She touches him, and sees many disturbing, horrible scenes. People dead. Jedi, slaughtered on the ground, robes and bodies everywhere, men, women, and children. The man that he had fought, cutting his legs and arm off with his glowing blue saber. A beautiful woman, a Senator she has seen many times on the HoloNet, holds her throat. She is choking. Alena sees all of this, and knows that he is responsible, responsible for all of it.

A man lies on the table, scarred horribly and burned, and she knows that he is responsible for all of this.

She feels his pain, his torment, the skin cracking and burning all around him. She feels his agony at the burns, his desire for the woman whom he choked, the bitter regret at having what he felt to be the duty to remove the Jedi, remove them all. She knows that he thought of the children, and tears came down his cheek. He thinks that he did this for love. He thinks that he deserved better than he got. He feels anger, hatred, frustration. He also feels sorrow and pain. He hates himself, what he has done. She sees a group of people in a room, cut down by his saber, and feels also that he relished in the killing, in the power to take a life, and in the power he got from its taking. He hates this as much as he loves it, loves the power, loves what he is capable of. The conflict within him, the two separate people continuing the saber duel among fire and lava in his mind, Anakin Skywalker and Darth Vader. Vader did this, Anakin did that. Anakin kissed the pretty woman while Vader choked her.

The fires rage on inside his mind, and he feels trapped inside of them. He will never be free. He is caged now, trapped in the fires of his mind, his flesh, and he is still burning.

Something inside of him touches something inside of her, and she cannot stand it anymore.

'Gods forgive me, Mama forgive me.' Alena feels for him. She hates what she sees, but she cannot help herself. She feels something, a warmth. This warmth is strangely cooling, and comforting. It flows through her, through him, the room, the droids, and she can touch it and touch it all. She feels this strange gift bestowed upon her by some sympathic god, and the light above her feels brighter and more intense, and sounds become loud colors in her head.

'What sweet cacao have I to give you, come the next harvest?' She feels dizzy, and hot. She wants to stop the burning, can't some god help to stop the burning? 'What god are you? Who does this to me?'

Alena glows. It is a quiet glow, not blazing like the blue sabers the two men fought with, not hot like the suns or the lava that surrounded the two fighting Jedi. Anakin and Obi-Wan. She knows their names, knows their faces, of course she knows them. She is a good girl who does well in her history class in spite of her disliking history--hating it even. It is a boring subject. She excels in history because she is a good girl. She makes her Mama proud. She knows that she needs to grow up someday, be a good woman, and excel in her studies that she may find herself a good profession, be strong and smart like her Papa.

The glow flows through her, the man on the table, the table itself, and the droids. Something else flows through her, too. Hatred. She hates what this man has done. To the beautiful woman he loves. To the people whom he killed. The children! He killed children. Children her age, and younger than her. She sees it all in all of its starkness, its cold and violent reality, and she hates it.

But she hates his suffering more, and the glow pours out of her hands into his body. The hatred in her turns into sorrow, then compassion. Alena feels an instinct that she does not understand, but knows it for what it is. She knows that instinct, has felt it before. She has touched her bruises and cuts, and knew how to make them go away. Make the pain go away. Kids during playtime break get hurt, and she makes their pain go away. She is a good girl, a smart girl, who wants to do well in school, who makes regular offerings at the shrines and during the festivals to the gods, and wants to please her Mama and Papa.

Alena yearns to help the man on the table, to understand why he did what he did, and what he went through. For Anakin, who calls himself Vader, a strange name that she hears in his head as his name. It is a name she does not like, but understands on some emotional level with which she cannot yet identify. She understands that this man will be Vader and that Anakin is but a past life memory, like one of her own memories of her lives, the ones which her mother denies are real and only half listens to when she speaks of them. She knows that this name means some sort of destiny that she doesn't understand, can't comprehend, and doesn't want to know about, and does not understand why she is here. A moment of lucidity reaches her, and in that moment, she asks herself why it is that she is here. Why is she not helping her Mama do dishes? Why can she not be outside on this wonderful day? Why does she see these things?

His skin is growing cooler to the touch, and it is glowing. She can see the skin forming and reforming itself. She can almost see through him and see his internal organs forming and reforming themselves. She can see all of this; the excitement and fear almost overpowers her in her realization that he is healing, healing because of her. Healing because of her, and that glow which surrounds her, him, the table, the droids, and the room itself. His skin is cool, but hers burns. It burns hotter than the suns streaming through the window in her kitchen, the lava and black sand which burned this man's body and continues to burn at his mind, she is burning. Hands are shaking, body is shaking, she is shaking. A force stronger than her is holding her up, holding her at this table, filling her with an intense, blazing energy that she can barely keep from exploding out of her and around the room. Instinct, calm instinct, an unnatural calmness in the center of her belly is all that she has to hang onto.

Everything is glowing, everything is blazing.

'Gods, please help me.'

And then, there is calm. There is peace. There is serenity, and it takes the form of glowing light swirling inside of her, and out of her fingertips. Strength flows within her, the strength to move one of her hands. Her head turns with it to look at the man on the table. His face is almost healed. One scar, now old, goes through his right eyebrow and eye, another on his chin. There is skin forming now around a new scar just below his left cheekbone.

He is still screaming.

Alena touches him, tries to will all of that light, that glowing light, around him. 'Please don't hurt anymore. Please.' Her outstretched hand is now on his face. She has seen all that he has done, but this light has her now, has the both of them glued to this table. But she wants his pain to go away.

I am sorry, I am so sorry. She doesn't know if she says this aloud, or in her head. She doesn't even know if he can hear her. I am sorry that this happened to you. I am sorry that I cannot do more.

Her thoughts break off as she feels him wincing beneath her palm. Her hand is on his forehead. She knows what he is thinking. Hate, so much hate, directed at the man who nearly killed him and left him for dead, burning alive on black sand. If he could make this hate a fire, it would destroy this man too—destroy him as surely as this man was now being destroyed. Alena watched, almost numb, as the droids attached mechanical legs to him. His body spasmed, and all she could feel from him was hate.

I am sorry for what he did to you. You did not deserve it, no matter what you did. I wish I could help you more. I can heal your body, but I cannot heal your soul.

His eyes look right into hers. They are wide and blue, and they are terrified. They are also filled with a terrible beauty, a frightening wonder that reminds her of clouds, lightning, and storms. Another mechanical arm has been attached to his shoulder. Two mechanical arms, two mechanical legs. Alena knows now that he can see her. She doesn't know how he can see her. Some strange moment of lucidity. Perhaps he heard her thoughts as she heard his, she does not know.

His mouth opens, and a word forms, a single prayer from his lips as he gazes blindly into her eyes. "Padme?"

Alena tries to respond, but suddenly her hand feels ice cold. She feels cold. She is shaking.

Ice. Ice water. She cries out, and suddenly can see. She is in her bathtub, immersed in ice water, ice cubes floating everywhere. Her mother continues to hold onto her. "My baby, my baby, Alena," is all she can hear.

"Mama, I'm here," she manages to say before her mother hugs her. Alena feels her mom's arms around her as her vision suddenly goes black again. Black like the armor she sees before her, a mask slowly lowering onto Anakin--Vader's--face, as he gazes above in sheer terror. The burns are very nearly gone from him, but she can see a mark still slowly healing on his face, the wound that would not heal.

The mask lowers, and she hears a slow, but very audible breath, as if a heavy and dark wind came down a long tunnel. It reaches her and something inside of her feels colder than the ice in the tub, and she begins to pass out. Before she loses consciousness, she sees the room that he is in, that Vader is in, being torn and ripped apart by the very glow she used to heal him. That healing glow is now thunder which rips through the droids and shatters the place as if shaken by an earthquake. She watches as part of the ceiling falls onto a man she only knows as Palpatine, and his horrible, distorted face and his disturbing, wide grin in the face of the destruction and chaos is her last vision before all of her vision leaves her. And in that moment, she is both thankful and afraid. Thankful she can no longer see, but afraid of that awful face that laughed as the ceiling and sky came down, and the dreams in which it will haunt her.

***

When Alena awoke, she knew that it was late in the day, but she didn't know which day, or how much time had passed. She remembered most if not all of the images that went through her mind and events that occurred when she had a fever. She knew that she was wearing her nightgown and that her mother must've dressed her after dunking her in ice water to bring down her temperature.

She tried to sit up, but noticed at once that she was still weak, although she did feel much better. Her mouth tasted funny, and she wondered if her mother had been pouring medicine down her throat while she was ill.

Remembering some of the things she had said, aloud or in her head, made her feel anxious. She had no idea if her mother or the doctor whom she had seen heard any of them, nor what their reactions would be. Fear struck her. She kept seeing the doctor shake his head. What if she had said or done something wrong?

Her mother walked into the room, and upon seeing her sitting up, gave a loud cry of delight, "Alena, oh, Alena, how are you feeling? Are you all right?"

Alena's response of "Yes, Mama," was drowned out by her mother's strong hug. "I feel much better."

"Good. You had that fever for so long, and it was so high. We were worried about you. Your father is downstairs. Would you like to eat anything? I could bring you water, soup, just name it." Her mother took her hand in hers, and squeezed it with a smile. At once Alena could feel the worry emanating from her, and something else behind it.

"What is it, Mama?"

Her mother sighed, worry lines creasing her forehead. "Don't you worry. We will talk about it when you're a little bit better. Right now, I'm just glad that you are all right."

Alena nodded. "Okay."

"That's a good girl. I'll bring you some broth and water. Or would you prefer tea? I could make you tea from the herbs in the garden." She nodded happily in response, and her mother dashed out of the room to get her daughter something to eat and drink. After she left her room, Alena sank back into her pillows and wondered what she was going to do. She knew that what she had seen transformed itself from vision into waking reality, but she didn't know how or why, nor did she understand what really had happened to her. She wasn't even completely convinced that it wasn't just the fever producing odd dreams from fears that transpired from watching too much of the news on the HoloNet. Everything seemed normal, but it was a strange sort of normal that filled her room. A new normal. She didn't like this normal. She wished that things were as they had been so she could go outside and play.

And she still didn't know how long she had been unconscious.

Her mother emerged later with a bowl of broth in one hand and some herbal tea in the other. Alena took and ingested both gratefully. Her mother watched her eat in silence, not bothering to interrupt her eating with the usual questions, "Do you like it? Is it good? Do you want to some more later?"

After she finished her last spoonful of broth and last swallow of the tea, she thanked her mother. It was good, but she was horribly thirsty still.

Her mother smiled, and fidgeted with her hands in her lap. She still looked worried.

"Alena, while you were sick, you said some interesting things that I at first took for fever, but spoke to someone in Central. I think that you need to know that you will have to take a visit to the Oracles. I've already arranged for an appointment."

Calm settled after this extraordinary announcement, then a sudden sense of panic. "What did I say, Mama?"

She shook her head at her. "No, Alena, I don't want to trouble you with it. If you don't remember any of it, it's just as well. But you need to talk to the Oracles. They want to hear about whatever you happen to remember. They think it's significant. They…." Her voice trailed off.

"Yes, Mama?"

"They feel that you were touched by the gods, and they think it means something. It, it could mean nothing at all," she added quickly. "But they want to make sure, and I figured that it couldn't hurt." She smiled brightly. "Just go to them and talk. They're wonderful women, Alena, and they wouldn't do or say anything to make you feel bad."

Alena nodded. "Okay, Mama. If you feel that I should, I will."

There was a long period of silence between the two.

"Here, let me take that for you," Alena's mother took the mug and bowl from her and began to walk out of the room.

"Mama," she called out suddenly, feeling that fear inside of her again. "Did I say anything wrong? Anything weird?"

Her mother stopped in the doorway, but didn't turn around. "You were feverish, Alena, and I don't know if what you said meant anything, but if it did, the Oracles will take care of it."

"Okay, Mama."

Chapter 2

"Then I will become an Oracle."

Alena walked down the central streets to the city's center, where stood the temple of the Oracles of Riol.

She walked alone.

She was still weak from her illness. Her mother had forced some broth down her throat and sent her on her way. "I can't come with you," she said calmly, but there was a sadness in her voice. "They have requested you to go, but go alone. I will be here when you get back, and you can tell me all about it." Her daughter was all of twelve years old. This came all too soon. The illness, the visions…but she knew that she had to go.

The gods wanted her to, therefore she had to.

The streets were paved with stones of almost equal size, weather and foot worn, though well kept. Ivy and flowers decorated the buildings she walked past. The sun was bright and gave a glow to the streets, the buildings, and got in her eyes as she kept walking. One foot she laid in front of her, and the next one followed. Her footing was strangely stable, she thought, given how long she had been ill and recovering. She felt, however, that this road led to her destiny. Lightheaded, yet certain that what laid before her would change her for the better, she kept walking on.

Those who asked her later would say after hearing of her speak of this day, "She saw it coming, and the will of the gods was with her."

Once she was at the temple, she stopped and stared, almost uncertain that she was genuinely there. She had visited it but rarely--a school trip, perhaps an early memory as a child. There was an archway, and she could barely make out the words chiseled on it in the ancient language of Riol: "Know thyself, and the truth shall set ye free." She could read it, but its meaning was lost on her. Alena was nervous. She knew that she belonged here, but she could feel her future looming ahead of her, and bits of what she remembered envisioning during her fever kept flickering in her memory.

Alena took a deep breath, and walked through.

She was greeted by a guard, who smiled upon her, all but patted her on the head, and assured her that the Oracles inside were waiting for her. She nodded, smiled in return, and entered the main entrance to the temple. Up the stairs she went, into the main hall. Everything was awash in gold, flowers, and burgundy drapery. At the end were three odd looking seats which resembled halves of large eggshells that were hollowed out and made into stone fabric-covered seats. Seated in each of the chairs were two women. The center chair was occupied by an older woman in her forties, a brunette with a smiling, motherly face. There were streaks of grey in her face, which was full, and her eyes were calm. Alena liked her immediately. To her left was a strawberry blond woman in her late teens, perhaps early twenties, with brilliant blue eyes. This younger woman was thinner, more angular, and seemed to have an edge to her that the other one lacked. She smiled. From where she stood, Alena could see the flames flickering behind her eyes, and at once she understood the young woman.

The third chair, seated to the right of the older woman, was empty.

"Hello, Alena," the elder woman called out. She had a gentle, but strong voice. It carried images of warm winds, vast fields, and childhood memories. "Welcome. I am Erna."

The young woman on her left inclined her head. "And I am Nyara." Her voice was also strong, and surprisingly warm.

Alena glanced at Nyara, then back at Erna. "I was told by my mother that you requested that I come here. And, um, I'm here." She wrung her hands in front of her, suddenly feeling awkward, and then composed herself. "I suppose I'm here because of what happened to me last week. I don't know how much you both know. Maybe you have answers. I don't know."

"Come here," Erna commanded, but her tone and voice were still gentle. "It's okay. You have nothing to fear here. We want to help you."

The young girl looked upon the woman's face and saw many things. Compassion. A genuine sense of caring. A strong desire to help.

Moving forward, closer to the two Oracles, she also saw a veil of concern. It was just behind their eyes, and it hovered in the air. She couldn't help but notice it.

"Am I really okay?" she asked timidly. "Or am I in some sort of trouble for what I saw? I barely even remember it, but what I remember…." She paused to think. What did she remember? Lava, fighting, skin burning, clashing, blazing blue swords, and black metal.

I can heal your body, but I cannot heal your soul.

She shivered, and hugged her arms to her body. She didn't want to remember any more.

Erna laughed, and smiled at her. "No, child, it's okay. You're okay. Why you're here has less to do with what you saw, and more to do with the fact that you saw."

Blink, blink. Alena looked at her, confused. "Um, I-"

"We want to know more when you can tell us more," Nyara said. "But we won't force it out of you. We know that you've been through a lot. It's understandable if you don't want to discuss it. I know how gruesome it was."

"The details, we heard from your mother," added Erna, who glanced casually at Nyara, then back in Alena's direction. The expression was clear, and Alena could almost hear her thoughts: Nyara, please watch your speech.

Alena found herself thinking, 'I like Nyara; she's blunt and to the point.' "I see," she replied aloud. She noticed that she still felt lightheaded, and her head spun. Her hands gripped one another for support. The floor and its burgundy carpet became very interesting.

"If you don't want to know, we can't help you." Alena looked at Erna and realized for the first time that she spoke as an Oracle, not just as herself, "But if you want to know, and want to help others to know, we can help you."

The young girl shrugged her shoulders helplessly. "Know what, exactly? What can I possibly do?"

Erna smiled, and Alena thought of how much she reminded her of a younger version of her grandmother. "Be yourself. But beyond that, be an Oracle for the people."

Now the room was definitely spinning. "Oracle, what? What do you mean?" She felt her legs give way, and she sat down very suddenly on the floor.

Nyara muttered many words that sounded vaguely like a cross between prayers and expletives to Alena's ears. The other Oracle sprang with a surprising amount of speed from her chair. "Oh no! Dear, please don't be alarmed. We just want to help you." Alena found her hands in Erna's gentle, but firm grip. She looked up to see the woman looking back at her, and found that she could feel the waves of concern, compassion, and genuine affection radiating from her. The room stopped spinning for a bit, but she felt queasy.

"I thought that I was here for an oracle, but I am here to…become an Oracle?" She laughed, and it sounded strange to her ears.

"Yes, and I would've thought that your mother would've explained to you why you were coming. Poor thing…Nyara, could you fetch a glass of water for her?" Nyara nodded, and ran at once behind the curtain that hung just past the strange, egg-like seats. "Alena, we want you to feel comfortable with what we are proposing, and if you say no, that is completely fine with us. You are free to change your mind later, or not!" She laughed. "We do not mind. But," she continued, still holding Alena's hands in hers, "we do feel that your gifts could help others, and that they come from none other than the gods. These gifts are special. We know that you are afraid of them, always have been.

"But, dear," she took Alena's hands closer to her, and looked her in the eyes, "these gifts, if they came from the gods, they cannot hurt you. They are good, and you can use them for good. And we believe that you can help yourself and help others with them."

"But…what I saw-"

"What you saw was tragic," interrupted Erna, "and could not have been prevented. We agree, also, that your abilities as a Healer are remarkable, and will do you good as well, and would serve the gods. But you must understand one thing."

Alena paused. "What?"

"What you saw was not your fault." Erna spoke these last words with slow, deliberate enunciation. Her hands shook Alena's with each syllable. "Do not blame yourself. And what you did and what will come of it, do not blame yourself either. We're here to help. Anytime. Because we want to help.

"But," she said quietly, "we cannot help if you do not want us to. And we would not force you to accept our help for all of the world."

"But I WANT to help," Alena blurted out, "that's why I did what I did. I couldn't stand what I saw, and felt. And the burns, you have no idea, Erna, I don't care what he did and I know people will hate me for it, but I don't care...."

Erna's eyes widened. "Alena-"

"I really don't care. My mother thinks I'm crazy, and I can feel it when I talk to her. She's constantly worried about me, about what I say, about what I see, and I can't help what I see and I feel uncomfortable telling her. She worries about me, constantly."

"She's your mother, that's what mothers do," Erna gently stated, and with a laugh, pushed back a strand of hair behind her ear. "And your mother sent you here so that you could learn."

"Learn what?"

"Learn how to use your visions for good, but better yet, to accept them. Accept them as what they are, and who you are. And you cannot change that, for all the world." She shook her head sadly.

Alena shook her own head, trying to will the images that still burned in her mind to disappear. "But if I want to, couldn't I--couldn't I just ignore them?"

"You could, and ignore much of yourself, for that matter. Imagine going through your life blind, deaf, unable to hear music that was either bad or good, unable to see the beauty as well as the ugliness. You cannot close your eyes nor shut your ears because of the bad that that you see. You can hear the beauty, and see the wonderful world in front of you.

"But," she quickly added, "these are your choices to make. We are offering you a wonderful chance. You would be this world's youngest Oracle. I cannot guarantee that you will not run into hardship, or failure. What would happen after you were trained and became the Third Oracle would be up to you. But we would love for you to join us, and help us - help others - help yourself - to do something wondrous for the gods."

Alena stared down at her hands. The pit of her stomach felt vast, and empty. But she could also hear behind the noise, a spark of something, something calm, strong, at peace. She reached for it, and thought to herself of who and what she had been before her illness, and what she was now.

The First Oracle smiled at her. "None of this is an accident, you know. Your being here was not only preordained by the gods, but also determined by you before you were even born. You are here because you chose to be. Never forget that."

She was a bright girl, who excelled at school, did what her parents expected of her, and achieved her dreams. And she dreamed, vivid dreams at night of castles in the sky, horses that spoke to her in dreams, and images of skies that hung above her in brilliant blue with two blazing suns and three glowing moons. In others, she would see fast paced moving images of metal on wheels, metal machines that flew in the sky, and a single sun with a single moon that paced across the sky daily as fast as the machines flew.

She had a gift for speaking to others about their problems, and having a sense of what they wanted to hear--and what they didn't want to hear. She knew, sometimes, what would happen before it occurred, and rarely were events a shock to her. She knew, before her illness, that a huge change was coming ahead, but couldn't see the details, but could only perceive the huge mountain of monstrous duty, shadows, and mystery that would cloud her future from here on end.

And all in all, she knew that her devotion to her gods was special. She could feel them holding her as she slept, and dream of them talking to her and telling her things, little things, about what she should do, advice on her daily life, and calming her fears as she voiced them in her head, aloud. And in those dreams, she tasted a peace that she barely felt in her waking life.

Her temples burned as if the fever were upon her again, and she spoke with a voice that she scarcely recognized.

"Then I will become an Oracle. If the gods will it, then I will. Just…tell me what to do, because I don't know…where to begin."

Warm arms collapsed around her in a hug. Alena was startled, but quickly hugged Erna back in return. As her arms enveloped the First Oracle, she felt dazed, and confused. Her future looked so uncertain and the ground felt very unstable. She had no idea, suddenly, where she was nor where she was, exactly. She barely remembered her vivid, reflective journey to this temple where she currently was, sitting on the floor with Erna holding her, and saying things to her that she could barely hear. Words of comfort that scarcely registered in her brain as anything beyond gentle sounds. Was she the same person, who a few weeks ago, excelled in her tests at school, helped her mother plant flowers in the garden, read books in her father's study? What was she doing here?

Everything came crashing to a halt around her, and felt at once to be unreal. The floor beneath her was unreal. The arms that held her were not real, either. In that space of unreality, she could feel the vastness of space closing around her, and its brightness enveloping her. At that moment, she could taste the living web that connected her to Erna, Nyara, the floor, the temple, the buildings around the temple, and to Riol itself.

It was too much; her head was still too light and her body too weak, and she passed out.

Chapter 3

"I know you're out there."

When Alena awoke, she found herself lying on a small, ornate couch. Nyara sat beside her, holding a glass of water. She also heard voices coming from the other room. One sounded like Erna's, and there was another voice which sounded distinctly like her mother's. She couldn't make out all of the words, but it sounded like whatever they were discussing was intense, and a little heated.

Alena tried to sit up, but Nyara gently put a hand on her shoulder. "Don't push yourself," she warned. "Here, have some water. Are you feeling better?" She nodded slowly in response, and gratefully accepted the glass of water.

Erna emerged from other room, looking calm but Alena felt waves of frustration coming from her. She gulped down the water and spoke quickly.

"Erna, what did my mother say?" she gasped out.

The First Oracle sighed. "Your mother has accepted your placement here as our Third Oracle, and you can begin training. However, she wishes you to complete your schooling. We are going to work out a schedule that will suit both you and your teachers."

This sounded good to Alena, but didn't sound like the complete story. "I don't mind doing both, and I am glad—but what of my mother? What did she say?"

"Mothers worry, and naturally she worries about you." Erna smiled. "She believes that you are too young to be an Oracle, and I think that she would rather a different life for you." Alena could feel her holding back words, could hear it in her voice. She knew that there was something that her mother was displeased with, and that Erna didn't want to express it.

"I want to become an Oracle," Alena said suddenly. "I don't care what Mama wants. I want to do this."

Erna smiled again, and nodded at her. "Your mother still is in charge of you, as you are her daughter and not yet of age, but I think that I have convinced her that this will be healthier for you in the long run. I don't think that she will try to make you stop coming here." She paused, and smoothed her skirt. "Do you think that you can be here tomorrow in the morning? We can begin then."

"Yes. I'll be here first thing."

***

 That night, Alena had difficulty sleeping. She left her room to go downstairs to get a cup of water, but stopped suddenly when she heard her parents talking in the kitchen.

"I'm not saying that it's a bad idea for her to go, but-"

"Alena's smart. She can handle this."

She caught phrases and snatches of speech, and stayed where she was on the staircase, afraid to breathe in fear that they might hear her.

"Isabel," she heard her father's voice say, "I have faith in those women. She's in good hands. Don't worry."

"It's not them that I'm worried about," her mother interrupted, "it's her. Don't you see it? Haven't you seen how she looks lately?"

"What do you mean?"

"Her eyes, Torin. Her eyes." Alena clutched at her nightgown. Her mother's voice sounded choked, and strange. "I feel like someone's taken away our little girl. I don't like it."

"Alena will grow up when it's her time," Torin's voice was calm and reassuring. "We can only do so much from her. We can't shelter from the world, and we can't keep her from being herself."

"She's only twelve!"

"Yes, my dear, but only in body. Someday she will be a grown woman, and she can't stop herself from growing up. And neither can we."

"But it's more than that-"

Alena couldn't bear to hear any more, and went back up the stairs to her room. It bothered her to hear them talking about her like that. And what had Mama seen in her eyes that worried her so much? She was still the same Alena. Nothing had changed. Or had it?

She collapsed into bed, and after some more tossing and turning, finally fell asleep.

Dreams that night were very brief, vivid, and strange. That awful man was in her dreams, the one with the black cloak and wrinkled white face.

"Go now, my apprentice…my iron fist!" His voice was terrible, and echoed in her mind.

Cut to a HoloNet news reel. "Millions across the galaxy mourn for the passing of Anakin Skywalker, who served the Republic. There are some who are calling for his immediate removal from the records, as he was a member of the Jedi Council, who recently were found to be plotting a takeover-"

In another blink of an eye, she saw him. Vader. This time, like before, she felt like she was there. He was walking down a long, white hallway past numerous people dressed in uniform. His speed was remarkable, although she could tell that he was still getting used to his new legs. His black cloak billowed out from behind him as he walked; waves of determination, frustration, and pride were cascading from him. Frustration at what, she didn't know. But he was clearly walking to his destination at a very great pace.

He finally stopped when he reached a short, but stern looking man, who also wore a uniform. Alena didn't recognize him. There was a conversation between the two, but Alena could barely hear it. It didn't register in her mind as anything that she could possibly hear. She caught snatches of words: "outpost," "traitors," "Empire".

Suddenly, she realized that Vader had stopped in the middle of his speech. Then she felt his mind reaching out into the web of space. She could feel his presence very strongly, and knew that he had somehow felt her.

I know you're out there. The voice was strong, and deeper than it had been when she heard him in the operating room. It came close to vibrating in her head.

***

She gasped aloud, and bolted upright in bed, both panicked and very awake. Her face fell into her hands.

'Breathe, Alena, breathe,' she thought.

After a few moments, she realized that what she had felt from Vader in the dream, she still could feel. There was something there, some sort of subtle energy that lingered in her mind. Alena wondered how long it had been there, and if she were simply imagining it due to the vividness of the dream.

She leaped out of bed, and got dressed quickly. Her weird dreams would have to be on hold, as she was due for her first day being trained as an Oracle. None of this could possibly occupy her time now, and would have to wait.

The gates were open when Alena arrived, and she found herself once again smiled at by the guard, who let her in without hesitation. She was still thinking about the dream she had last night. It made her uncomfortable, and a little afraid. On top of which, she kept feeling strange sensations tugging away at her chest and stomach. She forced herself to breathe in, breathe out in the way that her father had long taught her in times of stress or discomfort. Breathe in, breathe out. It wasn't working, but it was slowing her heart rate a little.

Alena found herself once again in the room in which she had initially met the two Oracles. This time she saw only Nyara, who seemed to be in the middle of straightening the cushions on the seats. She was greeted very hurriedly and told to take a seat in the other room, which she then did.

Moments, then minutes, then perhaps an hour passed before Nyara entered the room again, carrying what appeared to be a bundle of white cloth in her hand.

"Please put this on—I hope that it fits you. You will wear it while you are training and on duty as an Oracle here."

After Nyara left the room, Alena examined the clothing. It was a long, white dress with purple and gold trim around the sleeves and hem. Layers of cloth crossed the front of the gown, which fell over the rest of the cloth in folds. 'So beautiful,' she thought, and hoped that she could get it on without ruining it or making a fool out of herself. She had rarely dressed up, save for special school or family occasions—and nothing like this!

After turning it over, she decided to just put the dress on over her head and hope for the best. It turned out to be easier to put on than she had suspected, and once she had adjusted the dress, she ran to look in the mirror at herself.

She saw a short, thin young girl who looked a little older than her years with long, dark red hair and brown eyes. The dress made the hair and eyes stand out more, and nearly disappeared into her fair skin. Every freckle she could see on her shoulders and arms seemed to stand out a little more, and she was especially thankful that she had long already begun to grow into a woman, as she was able to fill out the top of the dress to some extent. Her waist was also smaller than her hips, which helped the fabric to drape a little better than it should have on a twelve year old girl. Alena stared at her reflection for a while, and remembered her mother's remark about her eyes. They looked no different to her, and she briefly wondered what her mother was talking about.

"Alena, are you ready yet?" It was Erna. "We are waiting for you. When you have finished changing, please come out into the main room."

"I'm all ready!" Alena quickly abandoned her reflection in the mirror to join Erna and Nyara. They were also in their ritual gowns, which were identical to Alena's. The two Oracles stood side by side, both solemn but with smiles on their faces.

It was Erna who spoke first. "Alena, before we begin training you, there is a brief ceremony that you will undergo. It is traditional to do this, and marks your beginning as an apprentice here. There will be nothing that will be asked of you that will make you feel uncomfortable or afraid.

"Are you ready to begin?"

Alena nodded. "Good." Nyara went over to a nearby table where there was a plate of sweet cacao, a censor, and a glass of what appeared to be wine. She lit the censor and added a few granules of resin and herbs while Alena watched, fascinated. After this exercise, she handed Alena the plate of sweet cacao.

"Alena, we will offer this to the gods of nature and of spirit together."

The plate was ceremonially offered, and Erna stepped beside the two women with a lit taper candle in her hand.

"Many, many years ago, before time itself, the gods created for us a woven cloth, a beautiful Tapestry, and to it were connected the heavens and everything that lived and dwelled in it. This cloth was the gods' way of being able to both communicate with us and allow us to communicate with them. It was their gift to us, a gift of love.

"We use this Tapestry and learn within it all matters of time and space. It gives us the ability to see, to predetermine the future for us and others. It also provides us with the capacity to give back to the gods what they have given us.

"In being an Oracle, you access this Tapestry in order to help others. It is a great gift, one that can be abused if one is not careful. At no time do we ever provide information which may cause another's undoing if it is unwarranted. We also strive to give people spiritual advice, and to bring people good and a sense of control over their future. For the Tapestry is always being woven and rewoven again by the gods.

"Alena, as one with the gift of sight, you have the ability to help others. You can also at the same time bring them harm. Do you accept this responsibility?"

The young girl swallowed, and replied. "I do."

"Very well then. Do you therefore accept the duties of an apprentice Oracle, in the hopes of one day being able to be an Oracle of Riol, and therefore fulfill this responsibility?"

"Yes, yes I do."

"Then it is done. May the gods bless you and bless your journey here with us. Alena, you are now an apprentice Oracle from here forward. Drink with us from this cup of berry wine, the berries from which are grown on the temple grounds and blessed by the nature gods."

They each drank quietly from the cup. When it came to Alena, she hesitated a brief second, then slowly drank her portion. It was sweet, and made her stomach warm.

Erna's face burst into a radiant grin. "Congratulations." Nyara took Alena's hands into hers and kissed them. Erna put her hands together in a loud clap and laughed happily. And the young girl smiled back.

***

The apprenticeship lasted for many months before Alena felt that she really knew the two women very well, or felt comfortable around them. It was an awkward time, for as it became obvious to the students in her classes that Alena was apprenticing as an Oracle, they began treating her differently. Some looked at her in an almost fearful awe, avoiding her when they could while other kids began to tease or harass her.

It took a long while for Alena to tell Nyara or Erna of the one incident in her swordsparring class. Alena had taken up swordsparring years ago, back when it became fashionable due to the popularity of the Jedi in the Outer Rim—particularly Anakin Skywalker, who had became many a boy's hero and a girl's young crush. There was a young boy in the class, a few years older than her, who seemed to watch her too often, make fun of her too often, and made a nuisance out of himself in general. He made her skin itch, and sometimes angry enough to see red shapes dancing in front of her eyes.

Unfortunately he was paired up for her during one class, and decided that during the match would be a good time to bother Alena. She had been winning the match against him up until the point the teacher had his back turned, and he managed to catch her foot and knock it out from under her. She fell sharply onto her ass as the world adjusted itself around her without warning. It was an illegal move, but it went unnoticed by the teacher, who had been judging the match.

"How can you be an Oracle if you didn't see that coming?" he jeered at her, and laughed. "I don't even know why the Oracles picked you."

"Jeret, stop it," one of his friends yelled. "It's none of your business."

He just snorted. "She can't swordspar for the life of her, and probably only did it to be a Jedi. Nay, probably thinks like all of the other girls that she's going to marry Anakin."

She bristled at the mention of his name, and could see the flames again. The smoke. The clash of lighted sabers. The black mask lowering onto his face. His blue eyes looking into her own so intensely.

Jeret pointed at her, and seeing the angry expression on her face he laughed. "So much for that, given that he's dead now. Guess he wasn't that much of a Jedi after all. Probably got chopped into pieces, and maybe thrown into a pit."

With a sudden, furious movement, Alena swiped at his feet with the blade. They didn't come in contact with his feet—not even close—but it was as if the blade had somehow lengthened invisibly and knocked his feet out from under him.

The students were suddenly hushed, and Alena was escorted out by the teacher. 'He's not dead,' she fumed to herself. But she knew that she couldn't say it out loud. She knew that she wouldn't be believed, and she knew somehow, deep inside of her, that what she knew right now was dangerous. Whispers and HoloNet news reports had long circulated about the Emperor's reign, and the increasing stronghold of the new Empire and its efforts to crush any Jedi or Jedi-like talents were quite public. There were some whispers, far quieter, than some of the Jedi-like people were being recruited for the Empire, and some never heard from again.

Which was why the teacher didn't punish her, nor keep her after class, but told her quite adamantly, "Alena, please do not do that again. I don't know what you did or how you did it, but you are already known as an apprentice Oracle. Prophecy isn't being called for yet as a 'Jedi' trait, but in time it might be.

"I saw what you did with that sword-" Alena tried to interrupt him, but he silenced her with a look, "and I know that it didn't come near him, nor did he trip over his own two feet. Be careful, Alena. Please. You're one of my best students. I don't want anything to happen to you. Also, I must say, while Jeret will be punished, I can't think of what will happen to you if you ever do what you did out of anger ever again."

She put her head into her hands and began to shake, and the teacher sighed. "Now, go. And be careful. Gods go with you."

***

A trembling Alena told the story later to Erna, who sighed quietly and said nothing for a full minute. Alena was certain that she would be perhaps thrown out of the apprenticeship, or punished. She didn't know what would happen. She only knew that she did not mean to make him fall over. How it even happened, she didn't know. Perhaps the teacher was only accusing her of doing so because she already displayed weird oracular talents, and thus was capable of doing other things.

After what seemed like forever, Erna spoke and said, "Young one, I'm glad that you told me this. I wish you to start working with Nyara. Nyara has some talents which may provide some explanation for what happened to you, and perhaps can even assist you to make sure that this incident does not repeat itself again."

Her brown eyes got wide. She wasn't being punished? Sent away?

Erna just chuckled. "Alena, you can't be thrown out for a thing like this. You need to learn to control that temper of yours, that's all. Now, I will go fetch Nyara and explain what happened, and have her help you out."

The story, after Nyara was brought into the room, was retold to her--with much hand-wringing from Alena, who still was uncertain as to what was happening. She felt horribly embarrassed, and she could picture her mother's face vividly in her mind, her mother's face which kept giving her worried, frightened glances when she thought that Alena didn't notice.

"Alena, please fetch me that candle over there." Alena stood up and did so, thinking that this was an odd request. She handed it to Nyara, who took it in one hand, and held up her other hand in front of it.

Flames from her palm hit the candle's wick and set it ablaze.

There was a sudden sensation in Alena's stomach as if a huge boulder were suddenly dropped into it. She simply stared agape at the candle, afraid to breathe or speak.

Nyara noted her reaction with mild amusement. "When I first came here to be an Oracle, I had a bad temper which I couldn't control."

"Still can't," Erna chimed in. "But you've gotten better at managing the aftermath."

Nyara glared at her. "I've gotten better. In any case, this little talent has cost us more than a few draperies. Erna forced me to practice doing what I did and meditating in order to calm me down and control it.

"Now, this was before the Emperor took over and announced that Jedi were being hunted down for their abilities. We are lucky to be in the Outer Rim, but someday that luck will not hold out. I've already had a few visions which I will not discuss in full at the moment, but suffice to say that Riol will not go untouched from the new galactic policies and laws."

She looked directly into Alena's eyes. "Alena, that was just for show. There's nothing that you and I are that is to be ashamed of. We told you that much when you first arrived here. But you do need to be discrete, and knocking down boys by touching the Tapestry with your mind is not discrete. You're going to learn how to control this ability or you're going to get killed or worse."

"Worse?"

Nyara ignored her. "Alena, we're going to add a few new lessons today. Some of them you weren't going to receive until your second year here, so be prepared that they won't be easy. But," she added with a smile, "I think that you can handle them."

***

The Emperor gazed out of the window of the ship. The stars were remote lights off into the distance, somewhere in the dark of space.

"This is a most interesting development, Lord Vader," he stated slowly. His hands were behind his back and although he did not face him directly, he knew that his apprentice was still kneeling on the floor behind him. He could not see his face, which was hidden behind his mask, but he could feel him cringing slightly as he brought him this information.

"Yes, my Master."

"It seems that she has come a long way since her Force healing attempt on you—which, I must say that I am most grateful for," he stated with a glee which was not lost on Vader's ears, "If you can feel her in the Force now, then perhaps she may be of use to us later. But we have much work to do." He paused, feeling the currents around him and the whispers in the Dark Side of the Force, then began to speak again.

"I will send out some of my men onto that planet, and see if they can keep an eye on her." He grinned. "We will see what she is capable of before we act. I waited for you for many years, my young apprentice. Surely we can wait for this one to unfold as well."

"Yes, my Master."

Chapter 4

"There is a war, but it is not your war."

It was when Alena reached her thirteen year that she finally asked the two Oracles what she had wanted to ask them many times before, but had been hesitant to do so.

"What would you like from us in honor of your thirteenth year, Alena?" Erna had asked.

Alena had bitten her lip, and had in her right hand a strand of red hair that she was twirling with her fingers. She knew what she wanted, and the answer spilled forth from her mouth before she could change her mind.

"I would like an oracle from you both," she blurted out. "I would be most grateful. Please."

Erna's eyebrows rose slightly, but she nodded and smiled. "Certainly, my dear one, an oracle from us you shall have. Perhaps it will help you in your training to be on the receiving end of one for once! Nyara, what do you think?"

Nyara simply shrugged her shoulders. "It couldn't hurt, and I think that Alena could use some wisdom for her thirteenth year. Just one thing, Alena-"

"Yes?"

"Just be aware that you will have to use some of the lessons that we've been giving you in receiving an oracle. Remember that you may not like what you hear, but you always have it within yourself to change the outcome."

The young girl smiled and nodded. "I just want to know some things—that's all. I'll be fine with whatever the gods see fit to tell me."

It was this conversation that resulted in Alena's kneeling before an altar with granules of incense in one hand and an offering of sweet cacao in the other. She prayed to whoever would listen, 'Please, about my dreams, about my abilities, I need to know what is in store for me. I need to know what to do with myself. Please, a hint, a direction, something.'

She stood after giving the offerings, and thought about her dreams as of late. They were intense, but brief, and allowed her to occasionally glimpse into what may very well be images of Vader and his life. She kept seeing violence, people dying, and overhearing conversations between him and others. She had not seen the Emperor in any of them recently, and was quite thankful. Palpatine disturbed her, and she didn't want to see him in any of her visions any time soon. There was something incomprehensibly frightening about him. Maybe it was the feeling of coldness on her skin when she awoke from the last one, or perhaps it was the memory of his face when the ceiling fell down on him after Vader tore apart the room with the Force.

The Force. She had heard Vader talking about the Force with the Emperor in one dream, and she had figured out that it was their term for what the Oracles referred to as the Tapestry. She liked 'the Tapestry' better, as she felt it to be more accurate, but could see why the Force was called 'the Force.' The Tapestry certainly forced her into many situations and actions that altered her life forever, for the better and for the worse.

Her thoughts on the Tapestry were interrupted by the sound of a bell, or what she thought was a bell. It gave off a hollow, flute-like sound that resonated through the hall into a crescendo.

'That's my signal,' she thought, and went into the main hall where the two Oracles sat.

They were seated in their usual chairs, and dressed in the white ritual gowns that she had grown so used to seeing. Instead of sitting with them, she now sat in front of them, waiting for them to speak. Nyara as the Second Oracle spoke first.

"Alena, step forward and give me your right hand." She did so, and in that moment she had a brief but vivid flash of fire, and men in white armor. She shook it away and willed her mind to focus on the moment.

"I am going to focus on a moment in your past, as past events are my specialty, and help you to understand the present day and current situation. Erna will focus on your future."

The Second Oracle became silent, and stared at Alena's hand. After a time it seemed as if she were looking through her hand, but Alena knew that it was the physical contact that Nyara needed in order to bring her visions into focus. She patiently waited for her to speak.

"This is…interesting." Nyara's voice sounded strange and distant, and her eyes were wide. Alena could feel a pit of nervousness in her stomach. "Your past is your future, and you weren't always here. Not on this planet, or anywhere in this galaxy." She frowned. "I see many strange things, but I can tell you only a few things for certain: your memories of your past lives are important, regardless of how real they seem to be or not. Pay attention to them. They will lead you to great things and hidden insights.

"As for this current life," her frown deepened, "you need to be careful. Something happened in your recent past to bring you into close contact with the shadow. The shadow obscures much of the Tapestry and we are lucky to still be able to use it. You have a very strong, powerful connection with that man. The one who used to be known as Anakin Skywalker. I'm sorry, Alena, I can't tell you much more than that. The rest is hidden from my sight, and the rest is hidden from yours.

"Erna is the one whom you really need to speak to next."

Erna reached over and gently removed Alena's hand from Nyara's. As she did so, the Second Oracle slowly slumped back into her chair, looking surprisingly drained. Alena noted that her eyes seemed to be both pensive and…something else that she couldn't identify. The moment was gone, and Erna's hand now held Alena's. The Third Oracle didn't usually require touch in order to receive her visions, but it was clear to the young girl that Erna did so in order to provide a calming, soothing influence. It was then that she realized that her hand was shaking.

"Cheer up, dear one, the past is past. I will now tell you of your future." Erna closed her eyes. It seemed to Alena that many minutes had passed, and when suddenly the Third Oracle's eyes popped wide open, she nearly jumped out of her skin.

"There is a war, but it is not your war. Stay out of that war, Alena. It will do you harm and will give you nothing good in return. Let others fight that war and let the outcome rest in the hands of the gods. There is nothing more to say on that matter.

"There is, however, another matter." Her brow furrowed. Then she grew silent, and quite still.

"Alena, I'm going to ask you something, but you can't answer it right now. I don't expect you to. Please remember this question in your future years, and the answer will tell you everything that you need to know.

"The question is this: 'How do you know how you feel, and what should you do about that feeling?' I can't answer that question for you, but the answer you will give will require a huge leap of faith." She paused, and gasped, as if remembering something. "Oh! And one more thing-"

"Yes?" cautiously asked Alena.

"You will be given a choice between two alternatives. Choose the third option. That alone will lead you to safety and victory."

After Alena had left the room, the two Oracles waited until she was out of earshot, and turned to one another. Nyara threw her hands up in the air, but Erna just shook her head and smiled.

"She needs to be here, but she won't be here for as long as we'd like. I only hope that wherever she winds up…." Her voice trailed off.

"She'll be in the hands of the gods, Erna. That's all either of us can guarantee her. I just…" Nyara sighed, and leaned her head against her hand. "Erna, I'm afraid for her. Isabel didn't even come close to describing what that girl saw and went through. I had to sit there and bite my tongue for much of it."

"And it's only the beginning." Erna sadly replied. "I can't tell that poor girl what's to come. I couldn't even bring myself to see it, but I had to."

"Will she be all right?" the Second Oracle blurted out. "Just please tell me she'll be all right."

Erna chuckled. "Oh, she'll be fine, all right. We'll just need to make her some new clothing some years from now. And I don't think that white is her color. All that gorgeous red hair, but her complexion—way too fair." She made a few sounds that sounded like disapproval, then leaned over and patted Nyara's hand. "Come now, let us get something to drink. After that session, I'm thinking we need something a little strong, and I know just the thing." The Third Oracle leapt out of her chair, and towards the back room.

With a huge sigh that sounded more like an explosion of air, Nyara followed, yelling at her back as Erna went. "White not her color? New clothing? Erna, have you lost your wits? What did you see?" Her tone was wrathful, but the Third Oracle could hear the underlying concern in her voice.

"Please calm down, and don't set anything on fire on your way in," Erna mildly replied from inside. "I'm not replacing these doorway curtains again."

***

When Alena got home, she wrote down everything that she had been told by the two Oracles, as much as she could remember, into her journal for safekeeping. She knew entirely too well of the value of what had been said to her, and how easy it would be to forget in the future—until it was perhaps too late.

After writing them down, she stared at her journal. She had hardly touched it since the day—that day—when her entire life was turned upside down. As much as she tried not to think about it, Alena knew in her heart that something happened when she had healed Anakin—'Vader ', she corrected herself. His name was Vader now. And that something that happened perhaps never should have happened. All that she knew was that her heart felt funny and odd every time she thought of those blue eyes that she had gazed into on the operating table.

Alena avoided thinking about it because of the girls in her school. They were giggly and annoying whenever they had spoken of Anakin Skywalker, and she felt embarrassed just to be around them. She had long vowed that she was never going to act that stupidly over a man. The thought of how they had behaved made her cringe.

'I will never be that dumb, ever,' she swore to herself.

Even so, the memory of those eyes continued to haunt her and dance in her vision as she fell asleep.

***

Alena stood on a balcony, gazing out into an endless sea of what seemed like impossibly tall buildings, lights and flying cars everywhere. It was an ocean of metal, colors, and structures. It was night and all she could see were blue, many shades of deep, dark blue and lights that reflected off of buildings, from windows—everything was blue.

As the wind swept through her long, dark red hair, she knew that she was sleeping and that this was yet another terribly vivid dream.

"Beautiful, isn't it?" She heard a somewhat familiar male voice say. Alena turned to her left to see Anakin—Vader—as she had remembered him from the HoloNet, sitting on the ledge of the balcony as he looked at the buildings. His arms were folded over his chest, and she could see the black glove that had covered his mechanical arms, and the black Jedi robes that he wore.

"It's Coruscant," he stated. Receiving no reply from her as she simply stared at him, he went on, "I bet you've never visited here, have you?"

Alena shook her head. She wanted to speak, but something in her kept her silent. Instead she turned towards the spectacular, urban beauty that lay before her.

A few moments went by before she felt something around her. An arm. She gazed down to see Anakin's arm—his real arm—holding her around her waist. At once she went still. 'Anakin,' she thought to herself. But he had another name now. Didn't he? For a breath or two, she could not remember it. Her head spun, and her cheeks felt warm. She considered stepping away, getting her thoughts and head back together, as she felt them now slipping away from her.

But his arm felt good around her waist, and she leaned her head back into his chest, and gazed at the night over Coruscant. Everything she was, everything she felt, and all that she saw felt good at that moment, wonderfully and delightfully good. Alena felt as if she were floating on a warm cloud.

His other arm came around her, and he placed his black gloved hand on her chest. She gazed down at it and could almost see the mechanical hand underneath. Thoughts swam in her head, memories of what some of the girls had giggled over came rushing back to her. Things that they imagined him doing to them with his hands.

Alena tried to banish the thoughts from her mind. She knew that she was too young to be having such ideas in her head, and too old to be giggling over him the way that her schoolmates did. But it was very difficult not to imagine his hand at that moment, slipping further down from the front of her chest onto her-

No. She would not think of it.

As she continued to struggle, she felt his head lean towards hers, and his lips brush the back of her now suddenly exposed neck.

I know everything, she heard him say, but it was in that deeper, more resonant voice—not that of Anakin's, but of-

Vader's.

***

Alena awoke with a start. Her sheets were soaked, and she found herself sprawled out on her bed as if she had been climbing all over it and had fallen into a heap. Blankets were everywhere, and her nightgown had been pushed up to her waist.

'What am I doing?' she agonized, feeling at once both distressed over the dream and yet still feeling the warm, radiant bliss that she had felt while in his arms. 'What is happening to me?'

She put her head into her hands and took a few deep breaths, lettting each one out slowly. Shame and confusion overwhelmed her.

'I can't allow myself to feel this way,' thought Alena to herself insistently. 'I can't. I just can't. It's wrong, terribly wrong, I just can't.'

And yet, the memory of his arm around hers, her head leaning back against his chest, came rippling back to her. She had enjoyed it far too much, and she knew that. And she had enjoyed Anakin's company as well.

"It's Vader," she spoke aloud, in a hiss. "Vader. Not Anakin."

With an exasperated sigh, she fell back into her bed and gazed up at the ceiling. It would be a long time before she managed to be asleep again. This time, however, she did not dream at all.

Chapter 5

"I will not fail."

It was one morning during breakfast that Alena's mother brought up the topic.

"I spoke to one of your teachers the other day, and he believes that you could take more classes this summer and the next—perhaps even move onto next year's classes half a year sooner."

Isabel paused and looked at her daughter, who was busy eating her bowl of fruit and nuts.

Alena brushed her hair out of her eyes and looked up at her mother expectantly. She was greeted with motherly eyes, and as she could so often these days, hear her think to herself, 'My beautiful daughter is growing up, and someday I will have to let her go. But not today.'

"Alena, this would mean that you could graduate from school at fifteen. It would allow you to become a full time Oracle sooner, perhaps join the Academy someday—whatever you decided to do." She gestured with her hands to the bowl Alena was eating. "I know that you're busy eating, but I wanted to ask you how you felt about that. It would take you away from your friends sooner, but it would allow you to get out into the real world sooner also. It may also mean that you would be put into more advanced classes and perhaps skip a few."

Alena smiled at her. "I wouldn't mind leaving school early, but I like the idea of harder classes." She clarified with a roll of her eyes and a downcast look, "They…they rather bore me. It's not that I don't like the material," she added quickly, rushing to correct her mother, who looked as if she were about to scold her, "it's just that the pace is too slow, and I find myself drifting in the middle of class. A few teachers have been giving me future assignments and additional work to make up for it, but I frankly am just bored."

She put down her spoon and sighed. "If graduating early would make sure that I'm no longer bored and made to feel…I don't know…like I have to make the teachers struggle with me, or something, then I'm all for it."

Isabel gave her a long, thoughtful look as she continued.

"Really, Mama, I want to excel. I want to do well. And my friends…well, they'd understand. I know they will."

"I spoke with your father, and he also is in favor of it, and thinks that it should've been done years ago."

Alena brightened at this, but her mother shook her head with a small half smile. That wasn't all that Torin had said; he also ranted about the teachers not catching Alena's high intelligence sooner--not to mention her boredom--and furthering her desire to learn.

But Torin was Alena's father, and would always be her father. Torin was the same man who let Alena roam through his study and read all of his books. He took an especial delight every time she grabbed a book that contained a subject of interest to him, and watched her pour through them as if she were a young child grabbing at candy. It was not without a measure of pride that he watched her do this, as he knew that her eagerness and ability to learn new things was in part due to his raising her. He would be pleased to know that the teachers, at least some of them, were giving Alena lessons outside of class so that she wouldn't give up entirely.

"So, Mama, can I then? I'll work harder, and I'm sure that Erna and Nyara wouldn't mind if I had to reschedule some of my training. They would be completely in favor of my graduating a year early."

She knew that the description of their reaction, namely them being "completely in favor" would be an understatement. The two women made no secret about their opinions regarding Alena's schooling, and what an advantage it would be once she were out and able to train full time. They had also listened to many of her rants about how the classes, while interesting, were not at the pace that they could be at, and how often she found herself drifting away during class and daydreaming. She did not say what she daydreamed about, but these days her thoughts were filled by an intense pair of sky-blue eyes and some of the dreams that she had about them.

Isabel nodded.

"It's settled then. I will talk to the headmaster of the school and arrange for you to take higher level courses. You may also have to take additional classes—we will see. I'm warning you however, Alena," her mother's tone became stern, "if it becomes too much for you, you will have to graduate along with the rest of the kids your age, when you're sixteen. No buts, ifs, or please Mamas."

There was a flurry of red hair as Alena sprang out of her chair to hug her mother.

"Oh Mama, thank you! Thank you! I'll study, I'll work hard, I promise!"

Isabel hugged her back, smiling softly. "I know that you will, my dear. I know that you will."

She pulled back slightly to look her daughter in the eyes. Alena had her father's dark brown eyes, her mother's auburn hair, and more than once, she had noticed that she had her father's talent for overwhelming herself with many projects and responsibilities. Alena looked back at her curiously, noting her critical gaze upon her. Her mother looked very serious as well as concerned.

"I just don't want you to place too high of a burden on yourself. You have a lot on your plate already. I don't know if you've thought about it much, and I know that you don't like to talk about it with your father and I. But I know," she sighed, and continued, "I know that you have a lot of pressure hanging on you, with the Oracle training and what the Oracles have been giving you to study and learn. Not to mention schoolwork.

"Just promise me, Alena, promise me that if it becomes too much you will say something. Please."

Alena nodded eagerly. Of course she would. "Yes Mama, of course I will. I promise."

"Good. Now, finish your breakfast. I'll come with you to school to talk with your teachers and we'll get this straightened out right away."

The breakfast was eaten so fast that Alena's stomach began to complain viciously, but she didn't care. Never before had the thought occurred to her that she could advance sooner in her classes. She suspected that more than just her intelligence was playing into this; much of the Oracles' work with her had focused on helping her to develop her intuitive skills, not to mention teaching her how to calm her mind and meditate. It gave her a focus which she had been noticing increasingly, and a greater feeling of control over herself and her day to day life.

She found that she didn't get upset, angry or overly excited as much as she used to. She also found that she noticed the smaller details that before had gone overlooked. How people acted around her when they spoke, the movements of their hands, the looks in their eyes and the expressions on their faces. And sometimes, she could swear that she could hear them thinking. She brushed that off to her vivid imagination and ability to read body language. The Oracles had taught her much of interacting with the people around her, as she would need that in giving people advice as well as prophecy.

Alena had gone onto her classes that day as usual, but with a feeling of anticipation and excitement. She didn't know how the talks were going or went between her mother and the headmaster of the school, but figured that all went and would go well. Eagerness and high energy filled her. She would take higher courses, graduate early—be an Oracle sooner. She could picture herself sitting in one of those egg-shaped seats the Oracles sat in, white gown and all. The thought gave her a thrill. She wanted to do well, wanted to excel. And as far as she was concerned, she would.

Sure enough, during one of her classes she was pulled out to speak with the headmaster, who scheduled for her to take a comprehensive exam after school.

"If you score an 85% or higher on this exam, we will move you forward. Otherwise, you can take more classes but we will not place you in advanced classes," the headmaster told her. "We will see how well you do."

She knew the exam would place her an hour late to her training, but she nodded. Her mother could inform the Oracles and they would undoubtedly have little difficulty adjusting. She was never late, nor did she skip a lesson. She knew that she had to be there no matter what if she was going to become an Oracle—and she wanted to very badly.

The exam time arrived, and upon finishing, she felt a strange sense of release when she handed the paper to the teacher who had been there to administer the test for her. It was as if she had handed in an application to be sent away to some uncharted, but exciting world.

"You will know the results of the test tomorrow morning," the teacher informed her, and sent her on her way.

But Alena knew the result of that exam, knew it before it could even be graded. And she was elated. Alena fairly skipped out of the building on her way to the temple for her training. She looked up at the two suns, one distant and small and the other close and as big as a moon, and grinned. The light shone over her and around her. It was a good day indeed.

As she had anticipated, the two women were thrilled. Nyara's face had burst into an ear splitting grin, and in an uncharacteristic display of affection, had leapt over to hug Alena.

"Alena, this is wonderful news," she exclaimed. "Now you can train with us full time sooner, and you'll be able to go with your lessons much faster."

She turned to Erna, who smiled gently in response to Alena's good news.

"Just make sure that you can balance your school time with your studies as an apprentice Oracle," she cautioned. "You need to do both in order to excel."

"Mama will pull me out of advanced classes if I can't do it," Alena replied happily. "But she won't pull me out of training here. She knows how I feel about it."

Erna laughed. "Your mother will do whatever it takes to make sure that you aren't under too much stress, and hopefully it'll never come down to her removing you from here. Now, let's get to work. We have some new lessons for you today." With a grin on her face that almost looked mischievous, she added, "We think that you might like these."

The young girl followed the two Oracles to the back room, where they had her stand in one part of the room, opposite Nyara.

"Now, I'm going to start small. I do not want you to feel overwhelmed on your first try."

She produced a wisp of fire that hovered in front of her palm.

"I want you, Alena, to move this flame."

Staring at the flame incredulously, her only half-spoken, half-whispered response was, "How?"

"It's subtle. Moving objects is harder, but this requires a stronger degree of control. If you can do this, you can do other things as well, and gain more ability over your abilities."

Alena looked at her, confused. "I still don't understand how learning to move that will help me as an Oracle."

She could hear Erna chuckling in the corner of the room where she sat, observing. Nyara just grinned back at her.

"Alena, control over one ability means control over yourself, all of you. Not just your ability to see, but yourself as a person. And we can't let you have an ability like this and not be able to control it." Her face suddenly grew dark, and quite serious. "Alena, have you been paying attention to the HoloNet lately?"

She gulped and nodded in response. There were numerous reports of Jedi, or people suspected of being a Jedi, and how they were being hunted down. There were no specific details as to what was happening to them, but many rumors were floating around of a dark knight, a "scourge of the Jedi," and his attempts to wipe them out—and he was doing it single-handedly.

She had especially paid attention to this news because the man who had been performing these tasks was none other than Darth Vader.

"We're in the Outer Rim, and most likely won't have to worry, at least for a while. But you need to be able to control these abilities, or someone will find out about them. The wrong sort of someone. And Alena, we don't want you to get hurt. We don't want any of us to get hurt. But we have to prepare ourselves for the eventuality that the Emperor's decrees on Jedi and Jedi-like talents may make its way out here."

"I also heard," spoke up Erna quietly, "that people who were suspected of having such talents are being recruited for the Empire."

The Third Oracle looked at Alena significantly, then at Nyara. The three women looked at each other with the same, serious look. None of them spoke about it, but not a single one of them approved of the new Empire, or of the Emperor.

Nyara smiled, but it came out more of a smirk.

"I am glad that we maintain a neutral stance on all issues political," she stated with a wry tone.

"We have to," insisted Erna. "The work we do here could be manipulated by others if we do not. We serve the gods, not men, and we do what the Tapestry weaves us to do."

What the Tapestry weaves us to do. Alena thought about this phrase, and what it meant.

Then she spoke, albeit slowly, "Does that mean that we are Tapestry as well to be weaved? If we can be weaved by the Tapestry, that makes us a part of it too, right?"

Erna nodded eagerly. "Yes, yes, Alena, all that was woven by the gods is us, the people, all living things, the planets, the land, everything. Everything you see is the Tapestry, and is a part of the Tapestry. And it weaves as it will."

"So it functions independently from the gods?" Alena was confused at this thought, but began thinking of people, human nature, and life itself.

"It does, and it doesn't. Nothing truly operates independently of the gods." Erna stood up, and began to slowly pace around the room. "The gods give us form and function, and we choose what we do with it. We have been given a great gift, that of choice. Hence why everything is in motion, always remains in motion, and the gods can intervene as they so desire."

Alena turned to Nyara, who had long extinguished the flame that had hovered near her hand. Then she nodded. "All right, then. Nyara, please…do the flame again. I'll learn how to do this."

"Good, good girl," Erna replied, and took up her seat in the corner of the room again, watching with a small, silent smile as Nyara once again created the small flame, and Alena worked at making it move by focusing on the Tapestry around her and inside of her.

***

The next day the exam results were official: Alena had gotten a near perfect score in every subject that the test had covered, which was an overview of all of her classes and the subjects that were being taught in her year. She would be moved out of her schoolyear and into the next at the beginning of next week. It was already the second to final day of the school week, so she had only a day or two of her usual classes before starting her new ones.

"You will have to play catch up," the headmaster had warned her, "I will be collecting various things from the teachers that you will need to learn in order to take the classes as they are now. You need to learn this as soon as possible—in fact if you could cover these basics in a week, that would be preferred. It will not be a lot of work—mostly memorization—but you will need to learn it."

Alena nodded back, her jaw set in determination. She was going to learn it, even if it meant foregoing her usual reading with her father's books and outdoor games with her friends. Perhaps her swordsparring classes would have to be skipped until then. But she would learn it.

That night, Alena dreamed, but it wasn't her usual beautiful, and sometimes passionate dreams about blue eyes.

She was in a room, a tall room made of metal and filled with shadows everywhere, on the walls, the ceiling—everywhere. In front of her was a cloaked figure seated in a type of chair that she didn't recognize—high backed, strange looking armrests, and had a tall, curved back. She thought of the egg-shaped seats that she was so familiar with, white with soft cushions, not too big and not too small, and comforting.

The cloaked figure moved out of the shadow so she could see his face. He was badly wrinkled, and yellow-orange eyes stood out in sharp contrast to his pallid skin. She knew him to be the Emperor, and knew that this was the man whom she kept seeing together with Vader in her dreams.

At the thought of Vader, she gazed behind the Emperor's chair and stood agape at the many-paned circular window that put the entire sky in a frame. There were many, many stars. Many. Beyond which she would've seen via her telescope, let alone with her eyes at her favorite night sky-gazing spots.

Alena knew at once at she was in space aboard a star vessel.

She looked around the room quickly. It was just her and the Emperor.

It seemed as if the Tapestry itself had held her captive as she watched in horror as the Emperor lifted up his hands, and bright white lightning shot out from his fingertips. She tried to remember the lessons that she had been given by Nyara, tried to redirect the lightning like she had moved the little flame in her hand, to shield herself from the blows somehow, but she failed. The bolts attacked her and filled her body with more pain than she could possibly remember ever receiving in her lifetime, and the shock of it woke her up.

Her immediate, desperate thought upon awakening, was that she had failed. She couldn't do it. She couldn't have blocked those lightning bolts. Alena knew with a certainty that had she had been there, the Emperor would've struck her until she had died. And it wouldn't have taken much.

Body shaking, she slowly sat up in bed, and looked down at her hands. She would've failed. She who could take advanced classes, be an apprentice Oracle, excel at everything she touched—fail. Fail miserably, and to the point of losing her life.

It touched her to the core.

'I need to work with Nyara more,' she thought to herself. 'I need to learn how to work these abilities.'

And she resolved on that day forward that she needed to work harder, study more—and learn how to protect herself.

She would not fail. She could not fail.

But inside of her, fear crept into her, knotting her stomach, turning her guts inside out.

'But what if you do?' whispered the little voice in her head. 'Do you think that you are immortal? Do you think that you will succeed at everything you do?' It told her that she could fail. Fail horribly, and in ways that she could not repair or recover from.

'No,' she thought. Alena felt her jaw growing tighter, and her back straighter. 'I will not. I will not fail.'

Something at the core of her flashed and flooded her entire being, and at once she felt a strange, eerie calm. It gave her comfort.

She would not fail.

Chapter 6

"I know that you are here."

As it turned out, Alena took well to the higher academic schoolwork, and thrived on the additional responsibilities and knowledge. To her parents' surprise, she was still able to maintain much of her activities outside of school, especially her training as an apprentice Oracle. Swordsparring was cut down to once a week and she had very little social activities outside of school.

She kept it a secret from her parents, but in reality Alena was glad to not socialize as much with her friends. They had begun acting strange around her since she took up her training, and as time went on they hung out with her less and less. Moving up into the next year of schooling forced her to see them less and hang out with those older than herself more. Alena tried her best to keep in touch with them, but found that her efforts were not returned. It saddened her, but she knew somehow deep down that none of the friendships she had at present, save with perhaps her relationship with the two Oracles, were in any way permanent. She had to move on.

But oh, how painful it was. And it did indeed hurt.

Nonetheless, Alena was happy. She had wonderful dreams as of late, and in them she was in Coruscant on that balcony, talking with Anakin—Vader, she reminded herself. There wasn't much conversation, though he sometimes asked her details about her life and she would talk about them with him. It occurred to her more than once that this was strange and perhaps too vivid to be a dream, but dismissed both it and her feelings as childish fantasies.

She was infatuated, and very attracted to him. She recognized that now—or rather, she acknowledged it. Alena was rapidly becoming a young woman, fourteen going on fifteen, and knew that her dreams represented a part of her that deeply wanted to talk to him. Maybe even have a romantic idea or two about him, especially after the dream she had when he held her in his arms.

'But,' Alena reasoned with herself, 'of course I want to talk to him. I want to know what happened to him after I healed him. How much did I manage to heal him? How is he doing? What does he think about what had happened?'

However, she wasn't stupid. She knew that she had ample access via the HoloNet as to how he was doing, and had seen him a number of times, and sometimes even seemed to feel him.

What she really wanted was to be with him, to interact with him on some level that mattered.

She didn't let herself think about such things. She didn't even want to think about such things. She was on her second to last year of schooling, and rapidly finishing up her classes. It was with great pleasure that she was given recognition for her high scores and made the top students' list. The list was posted on the electronic boards at school. Her emotions turned into glee, remembering. "Alena Doron, 94%". She was number four on the list, and twenty students were on it.

And her oracular training was coming along nicely. Nyara was teaching her how to shield against flame directed at her, flame caused by the Second Oracle's mysterious ability to generate fire from her hands. Her ability to meditate was helping her to see into the present and future so much more clearly than before, and she was able to predict particular events with great accuracy. Of course, this would disturb her mother on various occasions, but at least her training was going well for her.

Alena had no time nor ability to dwell too much on a certain pair of intense, beautiful blue eyes, nor to act on her desire to stare into them for a while, see what he was thinking and feeling.

As Erna often said, one of the things that she had to face in the world was to focus on the present, what she had, and to make the most