DISCLAIMER: Star Wars and all publicly recognisable characters, names and references, etc are the sole property of George Lucas, Lucasfilm Ltd, Lucasarts Inc and 20th Century Fox.  This fan fiction was created solely for entertainment and no money was made from it.  Also, no copyright or trademark infringement was intended.  Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.  Any other characters, the storyline and the actual story are the property of the author.
The title and subtitles are also not the property of the author.  They are from Loreena McKennitt's song "Dante's Prayer", from the CD "The Book of Secrets".

Something was wrong. The boy was ill. Qui-Gon stared across the length of the boat at him, reaching out with the Force to try to determine what was causing his illness.

It had begun just over an hour ago. First tremors in Kenobi's hands, a faint tightness around his eyes...and now...now the boy was shivering uncontrollably, hunched around himself as if trying to drive the pain away by sheer force of will. It wasn't working. Nevertheless, Kenobi kept his hand on the tiller, steering the boat toward the distant island that was now visible through the darkness.

Qui-Gon reached out further with his mind. There was...an imbalance in the boy. Something serious. This was no mere case of seasickness. Something was very wrong. Frowning he climbed to his feet and ducked under the sail, gritting his teeth against the agony in his leg. It had stiffened up during the night, and the pain from the twin blaster wounds throbbed in time with his heartbeat. Still, the pain paled beyond what the Jedi could sense coming from Kenobi. Moving carefully he crossed the boat and sat down gingerly next to the boy, stretching his injured leg across the nearby seat. Hesitantly Qui-Gon rested one hand on the boy's shoulder.

Kenobi jumped at the touch. Qui-Gon could feel his mental shields trying to come up, and sensed his failure. Now that he was in physical contact, the sense of "wrongness" about him was much stronger. Qui-Gon's eyes narrowed. He was no healer, but...carefully he reached out with his mind...

...And pulled back, stunned, turning startled eyes to the boy. Kenobi was staring back at him, his face etched with pain and his eyes burning. "Now you know how the raiders control me. Why I do what they want. Why I could never escape..."

"You're addicted..."

Kenobi stared unblinkingly at the dark waves around them. Finally, after an eternity, he spoke. "It's called Erebus. It's a narcotic. And yes...I'm addicted." His voice was strangled, as if it was costing him his very soul to say the words. Qui-Gon moved as if to touch him again, but Kenobi flinched away, closing his eyes. "If I do what they say, when they say it, they give me the drug. If I don't..." His voice trailed off.

Somehow it was almost a relief. At least this was something he could deal with, could try to put right... The healers on Coruscant would find a cure, he would help the boy... He said as much, out loud.

Kenobi shook his head, chasing away the pleasant illusion. "No." He gasped a bit, obviously trying to find some way to deal with the pain. "You don't understand. You don't know what I've done..." The anguish in his voice was almost palpable.

Qui-Gon touched him again. This time the boy didn't pull away. "It doesn't matter. You had no choice..."

"It does matter! I killed Vayrann..."

Qui-Gon stilled, shock rippling through him. "What...?"

There were tears in Kenobi's eyes now, glinting like shards of ice in the moonlight. "I killed Jedi Vayrann. He...the pirates...I..." He shook his head, unable to go on.

But Qui-Gon could see the memories, flashing through Kenobi's mind. The boy's mental shields had collapsed completely and waves of pain and guilt were streaming from him.

And memories.

Torture, drugs, a fog of pain and confusion. Anger, hatred, fear...the Dark side closing in around him. And then an escape, one way out of the darkness. A raider, standing in the way -- one of the people who had hurt him, who had killed the passengers and crew of the freighter -- and the boy had lashed out with the weapon he had suddenly found in his hand...

...and Vayrann was dead.

Mistaken identity. An error, caused by the drugs and the pain...but it had destroyed Kenobi's soul -- and given Shevann the key to controlling him, to using his powers. No longer caring if he lived or died, with one foot already on the path to the dark side, Kenobi had taken the path of least resistance, had stopped fighting the raiders... believing there was nothing left to fight for.

Nothing left to save.

The boy was crying in earnest now, great sobs ripping from his throat. Unthinking, Qui-Gon gathered him up in his arms, holding him tightly, wishing desperately that there was something he could do to change what had happened, to take away the boy's pain.

"I'm sorry." Kenobi's voice was muffled. "I'm so sorry. I never meant..." He choked, the words catching in his throat.

"It's all right. It's all right. You...you couldn't help what happened. It was Shevann's fault, not yours."

"No..."

"Yes. You are not to blame..."

"I pulled the trigger. I watched him fall. Who else is there?" Kenobi pulled abruptly out of Qui-Gon's arms and took a deep, shaky breath, wiping the back of his hand across his eyes, visibly trying to regain control of himself. Realization hit Qui-Gon. "That's why you're helping me escape," he said. "You're trying to make up for what happened four years ago..." It wasn't a question.

For a moment he thought the boy would deny it. Kenobi's shoulders stiffened and his jaw clenched, then he sagged as another spasm shot through him. "Yes," he said simply.

A strained silence fell. Then Qui-Gon pulled himself together. "Listen to me," he said intensely. "It was not your fault. Nobody will blame you for what happened. Come back with me to Coruscant. The healers will help you and you can start over. Begin again."

Kenobi shook his head, looking away. "It's too late." There was nothing but pained acceptance in his voice now. Qui-Gon opened his mouth to continue, to convince the boy somehow, but Kenobi forestalled him. "We're here," he said, pointing to the rocky island looming up before them, a shadow against the darker sea. The sound of the hull scraping on rocks beneath them punctuated his words.

It was Qui-Gon who waded into the cold sea to pull the boat onto the shore, and Qui-Gon who helped the boy onto the island, despite his own injuries. Kenobi could barely stand now, leaning heavily on the Jedi's shoulder, his slight frame shivering incessantly. In the slowly gathering light his skin was waxen and spasms racked his body. Qui-Gon sent another questing probe toward the boy and flinched inwardly. He was in so much pain. Too much. The effects of the withdrawal were proceeding too quickly. He didn't have much time. The Jedi tried to share some of his own strength with the boy, using the Force to shore up Kenobi's waning energies, but it was swallowed up by the pain and darkness inside him, vanishing instantly. Qui-Gon closed his eyes briefly, then quickened his pace, struggling to bear the boy's weight.

He found the ship hidden nearby behind a large outcropping of rocks. It was a small Acarian fighter, old but in good shape. The spray from the sea had left it damp and glistening in the pre-dawn light, but it looked spaceworthy. The boy had obviously put a lot of effort into it.

How long had it taken, Qui-Gon wondered? Working in secret, restoring the old fighter... And why? If he could never leave this place because of the hold the raiders had over him, why had Kenobi done so much, risked so much, to build an escape he could never use? What had prompted him to do this?

"Hope," Kenobi whispered, answering Qui-Gon's unvoiced questions. "Hope that I could leave this place someday. Escape...Be free." He was seized by a paroxysm of coughing then he sagged in the Jedi's arms. Qui-Gon instantly lowered him to the rocks, sinking breathlessly down beside him.

"Listen to me," Qui-Gon said, injecting a note of forcefulness into his voice. If the boy wouldn't listen to requests, maybe he would heed a command. "You are going to escape. You're coming with me to Coruscant."

Kenobi coughed again, struggling for air. "Sorry," he whispered quietly. "Can't..." His breathing was becoming shallow, his pulse thready. Qui-Gon fought down the wave of panic that engulfed him. The boy couldn't die, not now that Qui-Gon had found him again. He wouldn't let him...

Kenobi was reaching inside a pocket, pulling something out with unsteady hands. Shock went through Qui-Gon. It was his lightsabre, the weapon the raiders had taken from him when he had been captured. He had thought it lost...

"Here," the boy whispered weakly. "You'll need it. Meant to give it back before. But...wanted to pretend...just for a little while. Remember what it was like..."

A tear was threading its way down Qui-Gon's cheek, unnoticed by the Jedi. "Why?" he asked hoarsely again. "How long has it been since you had the drug? You knew you wouldn't survive bringing me here... Why did you do it, Obi-Wan?"

The blue eyes were closing, slowly, reluctantly, as if fighting to hold onto the last of the light, growing brighter on the horizon. "Better...to die free... Like a Jedi..."

More tears were falling from Qui-Gon's eyes, mingling with the seaspray. One fell on the Obi-Wan's face and with the last of his strength the boy reached up to touch the Jedi's cheek. "Don't...s'better this way..."

Anguish tightened around Qui-Gon's heart like a vice. "I'm sorry, Padawan," he said, choking. "Please forgive me."

"Yes, Master." His words were barely audible. Then Obi- Wan smiled faintly, took one last shuddering breath, and went limp in the Jedi's arms. Qui-Gon closed his eyes, gathering the boy up tightly...and let the tears fall.

The sun rays spread slowly across the horizon, turning the dark sea a lighter shade blue, shot through with silver and gold.

On the rocky shore, Qui-Gon touched the torch to the wooden boat that had brought them to this island, staring unblinkingly at the pale form in the centre...watching as the flames began to lick at the body. One final push, and the boat was moving back onto the sea, the waves taking it and bearing it slowly westward. The fire rose higher as the craft moved away until nothing could be seen of it except the blaze. It became another beacon of light on the water, rivalling the rising dawn sun.

The tears were gone now, although the pain remained. As did the memories. The Jedi lifted his head, his hair streaming backward in the wind from the east. He paused for a moment, staring at the burning boat as it disappeared into the distance... and then with one smooth movement he activated his lightsabre and raised it, a final salute to the Apprentice he had never known.

"I will remember you, Obi-Wan. Always."

And then he turned and walked back along the shore alone as the sun rose in a blaze of light.

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