DISCLAIMER: Star Wars and all publicly recognisable characters, names and references, etc are the sole property of George Lucas, Lucasfilm Ltd, Lucasarts Inc, 20th Century Fox, Timothy Zahn, Barbara Hambly, YKW and the other writers of the expanded Star Wars Universe. 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.
Life traveled slowly, but the months were full. Mara stayed with her grandfather for a long time, at least six months, and ventured out only when Vaiya was consecrated in the First Temple. The peak of her hair was shaved back and the golden lock was braided and cast into the small spring that ran underneath the temple, a sign of Vaiya's burial of her old life. On the bare skin the seal of Yejion was placed, painlessly and joyously, as the tiny needle made a swift, curving stroke against her skin. Iyala, who had stayed close to Vaiya during her instruction, had gladly taken the honor of her spokesperson, declaring that Vaiya was ready to being her new life as Yejion's follower. She even placed the silver ring with the dark purple stone on her forehead, an object to be worn only in times of celebration. Iyala was the only one who wore hers constantly, for reasons even Vaiya didn't quite understand, but felt she had plenty of time to learn.
Mara and Luke began the long process of gaining acceptance on the Durranian world. Because Luke was the brother of the Chief of State, apparently his word carried some weight, and the Durranian council agreed to begin negotiations to open their world back up to offworlders. At first, Luke was amazed at how easy that had seemed, but then became aware of the fact that just because the city of Reyan had agreed to think about it didn't mean it would be done in any small time.
Ambassadors were sent to Durran by the New Republic, and Luke and Mara, after making sure that everything could go on smoothly without them, and after Valeris' refusal to return to the main temple even though he had come for Vaiya's consecration, returned to Yavin IV. The whole trip kept them from the rest of the galaxy for nine months.
There was one Elder, who was probably the youngest, named Syrian, who was the only one among them who carried a lightsaber. Vaiya had been introduced to him before she had been consecrated, but until her parents left, they had not met again. One evening, he came to her after services.
He was not exactly handsome by most standards, but he had a physical presense to him that Vaiya found rather striking. He was much darker than any of his fellow Durranians. In fact, he was such a deep, rich brown that he made everyone else look positively pale, and Vaiya herself as white as the veins in the grey stone that surrounded them. Perhaps that was what made him the most striking, she thought. He had a very low, gentle voice, but she had heard him yell once or twice and did not relish to ever be on the receiving end of it. He seemed almost a bit too large in his muscular frame to be able to exhibit the spritely qualities, but she had watched him practice his lightsaber skills with a few protegees and found him to be extremely gifted in his movements.
"Greetings, Grana Vaiya," he said, placing one hand on his heart in respect. Vaiya quickly placed both hands over her heart in deferrence. She was hardly a guest, but she lived in the temple purely at the pleasure of the Order.
"Greetings, Elder Syrian," she replied, rising.
"Perhaps you may find me to be slightly...presumptuous," he said, and it was nearly amusing to watch this big man show bashfulness. "But I have come to you for a reason. I know that you are what they call a Jedi. I was wondering if you were planning on continuing your physical training."
Vaiya found herself searching for the right words. "I have been trained since the day I was born," she replied. "I felt that my spiritual growth needed more attention."
"That is very true, and one must always grow spiritually." He took a deep breath, as if deciding to just blurt it out. Vaiya was sensing some heavy overtones from him. Apparently, he was not liking what it was he had to say, but he was compelled to say it. "But physical skills are also necessary. They keep the discipline ripe, and they cannot be allowed to atrophy. Forgive my arrogance, Grana Vaiya, but I must request, as an instructor in the physical arts of the Psyenergy, that you return to your training. I will give you two hours of my time every morning. I would simply request it, but I am afraid that I have been given strict instructions that you attend, and cannot risk your refusal, which I can feel that you are about to give me."
Vaiya listened carefully, feeling Syrian's emotions. Yes, he was right, she would have refused. But the way he put it...it was so urgent. She sighed. "Very well, Elder Syrian. I appreciate your bluntness, I honestly do. My father would agree with you. He and I practiced a little while he was here, and he almost didn't leave because he knew I had no intention to return to it."
"Yes, I saw you and your father practicing. You are extremely gifted, Vaiya. You are called to be a warrior, that I can see."
"Wars do not make one great," she replied softly.
"No, but we do not seek to be great in the Order or Yejion. We seek only to serve. Some of us are called to physical service. Perhaps there is a great trial awaiting you. You are not even eighteen years of age. Your whole future still lies before you uncertain." He smiled, showing large, brilliant white teeth. "In this place, it is very easy to think of life as only one day at a time. It is something we must strive to remember when we are outside in the world."
Vaiya found herself smiling. He couldn't be too much older than her, maybe a decade. He reminded her a little of Larin...and then she had to push the thought out of her mind. Lately, the thought of Larin disturbed her.
"Did I say something to offend?" Syrian suddenly asked, his eyes wide.
"No, Elder. I was simply thinking about the past."
Syrian clucked his tongue. "The past and the future are the greatest hinderences in life. Come, perhaps we shall begin a few lessons tonight. There is nothing like exhausting yourself with exercise to make you forget about yourself."
Vaiya nodded and followed. It didn't sound like such a bad idea.
For the next year, Vaiya trained with Syrian. He taught her many things--how to stay focused, how to concentrate on more than several things at once, and even how to wound with a lightsaber without killing. That one, Vaiya had a feeling, would prove to be the most useful. During those months, Vaiya lived in the temple like one of the Elders, attending services and meditating daily. The Elders lived together like a group of monks, and had their own separate quarters, but there were others, both men and women, who served the Elders and lived in a similar way to them, even though they could not perform the rituals like the Elders could. There were also no women Elders...Vaiya found that curious, but she did not sense any inequality between the Elders and the older women of the small community. The entire feel of the place was that the greatest among them was the one who served everyone else.
During this time of training and prayer, Vaiya built her own lightsaber.
It was a slow process, because Vaiya could not figure out how to build it. She began with a simple, single blade, pale violet in color and very beautiful. Purple seemed to stay with her--even the clothes that were provided for her were some shade of purple. They had given her her own sort of uniform when she had been consecrated, a pair of simple black trousers and a tunic made of a thin version of the thick velvet that graced the altar, in the same red-violet as her old linen tunic. She carried the saber on a traditional halter belt, and became the only other occupant of the First Temple (other than Syrian) to do so. No one objected--in fact, it seemed to gain her a bit of respect that she wasn't sure she was comfortable with.
One night, three months before her eighteenth birthday, Vaiya was in the temple doing her daily meditation. She had spent much of the day in vigorous activity, because Syrian had given her the task of cleaning out some of the pantry rooms underneath the temple, just to keep her humble. She had been getting a little too much attention, he thought, and didn't want it to go to her head. Because Vaiya had a little problem, which she explained ran in her family. She had anger in her. At times, she worked with her anger, fought with it, let it give her strength. She had a few light burns on her hand from where she had gotten a bit carried away with it and Syrian had had to stop her quickly before she did some real damage.
So she rested in her meditation, forcing all her muscles to relax against the resistance of the heavy wooden chairs in the temple. Usually she knelt, but her muscles lacked the strength this day. As she sat, she shut her eyes, and without her even being aware of it, she fell asleep.
A man entered the temple, his brown robe pulled down over his head, hiding his face in shadows. Quietly, he approached her, and gingerly seated himself in one of the chairs, only a few places away from her. Vaiya turned her head, momentarily startled by his entrance, and even more curious as to why he was so close to her, since there were many more seats in the temple and the Elders were always so respectful of private space. But she simply smiled and turned herself back to her meditation.
"The time of trial is coming," the man said, speaking basic. The sound made Vaiya turn her head again.
"Every day is a trial," Vaiya heard herself respond.
"This is true. And one day lived is another trial overcome. But this is different, Vaiya."
She frowned. "Do I know you?" she asked.
"You know my Master. He has sent me to you." The lowered face lifted, but Vaiya could still not see it. "I bring a message."
Vaiya's heart began to pound, and she had to quench her fear. Gently, almost timidly, she reached out with her mind toward the man, and caught a glimpse of pure, unabashed light. She pulled back, awed.
"Who are you?" she whispered.
"A messenger." The face turned toward her, and she could see a tendril of hair slide out from under the hood. It glowed like living fire. "Listen carefully. My Master speaks to you. He says: I command you to return to the desert, to the Cathedral, where my servant Valeris waits for you. There you will listen to what he has to teach you, for this place will not protect you when the hour comes for you trial. Only his wisdom will be your guide, for I have chosen him as my gift to you.
"Before you leave, you will add another blade to your weapon. You will recieve resistance for this action, because my Order is an order of Peace, and a lightsaber with two blades is a weapon of war. But you will fight a war, Vaiya, a war in which you will be my army, my general, and my victor. And no matter what you see, remember that I am present in all things, and strike never in your anger, for you cannot judge the soul of a man. Only I can judge, for I am the only Judge, and the Ruler of all hearts. So says Yejion, the Creator, the Sustainor, and the Completer of all things." And then the man's eyes began to glow a brilliant, divine blue, and Vaiya saw a face so terrifyingly beautiful that she suddenly felt as if she were going to die by its very sight.
Vaiya awoke with a start, shaking. She took serveral minutes to calm herself, for the violence of the vision---no, it had not been a vision. She glanced to her left, where the man--no, not a man, but an angel--had sat, and reached out to touch the heavy wood of the seat. It was so warm it nearly burned her fingers.
Vaiya stood up, filled with something she did not understand but did not question. She had work to do.
Syrian was very sad to see her go, but he did not question her. Before she went, as she had been instructed, Vaiya constructed another blade for her lightsaber. Syrian raged against her for this, but she calmly ignored him. "A two-headed weapon is a weapon of war!" he cried, just as predicted. "A single blade is made strictly for defense, but if you make a weapon with two blades, surely you will be tempted to strike first!"
Vaiya felt the urge to respond to him, shoot back at him her reasons and lord it over him that she had been given personal instructions by Yejion Himself, but she did not. That would have defeated everything, and Vaiya had no wish to defeat herself so soon.
She returned to Valeris in the desert, and there she stayed for three months, learning from him all that she could. Valeris was not at all surprised that she returned. In fact, he seemed to be waiting for her.
Iyala contacted Vaiya a week before her eighteenth birthday. She urged Vaiya to return to the First Temple, because that year was a celebration year and all the 18 year olds of the community were given a special blessing. Vaiya hesitated at first, but after praying on it, and after Iyala told her that she had already sent work to Luke and Mara to come, she agreed. She asked Valeris to come with her, but the old man would not say one way or the other. Vaiya simple assumed that when the time came for her to leave, he would either go with her or not. Vaiya did not question him. After all, the man was over a hundred and twenty. He knew his own mind.
Iyala contacted her two nights before the ceremony and told her that her parents had arrived, and brought with them her friends Drianna and Derrin. Vaiya had not thought about Derrin in a long time. Funny, how odd it made her feel, knowing she would be seeing him again. Even after all this time, there was still a spark of feeling for him.
During the three months in the desert, she had come to the temple once a week, and only for the service. Valeris did not come with her, no matter how she pleaded. Whatever his reasons, she had to accept them as well. But when time came for Vaiya to leave for the First Temple, one night before the service so that she could go through a special purification cermony, Valeris suddenly begged her to let him stay in the desert for one more night. He knew it was an inconvenience for her to leave for the purification ceremonies and then come back the next morning to get him and return again, but Valeris never begged for anything and the humility he showed floored Vaiya. She agreed, more out of love for him than anything else. Only he could have asked her such a favor and gotten away with it.
She went through the purification rituals and then got up at dawn to leave and pick up Valeris. As she struggled not to get herself dirty--and barely succeeded--as she made her way through the cathedral and into the main room of their underground home, Vaiya suddenly sensed something.
A boy. No more than ten, maybe eleven, and strong in the Force. He had thick brown hair and somber grey eyes. He stood beside the hearth, beside Valeris' favorite chair. He watched Vaiya with a knowingness that frightened her, and as she approached, she suddenly understood why Valeris had begged for one more day.
The old man smiled at her, his old teeth still white. "Vaiya Jade Skywalker, meet your brother...Valery Ben Skywalker."