*****
Blood soaked through Anakin's clothing as Obi-Wan rode through the forest, but he couldn't afford to stop and tend the wound.The blaster shot hit just below the right shoulder blade, piercing the lung and damaging a major artery in his heart. Obi-Wan was using all of his considerable strength to draw on the life-power and keep Anakin from choking on his own blood. Cold, clammy, and shivering faintly, his body was in shock and deteriorating rapidly. Obi-Wan pleaded with his equara to push harder.
He'd left the group with nothing more than a desperate look to Nauco, urging him to explain. No doubt the Jedi Master would demand to know where Anakin had disappeared to once she was satisfied the others were safe. He didn't want to waste precious time in explanations while Anakin's life bled away. Though Siesna had achieved some degree of technological advancement, it was still very much a primitive society as was reflected in their medical treatment. Even off-world transport to the nearest system with adequate facilities would take too long. Left to Siesna's provincial healing, Anakin's injuries would be fatal.
As Obi-Wan passed the first marker of the Milaera border, he halted reluctantly and waited for recognition from the primary sentries, silently cursing the delay. A flicker of movement in the ceiling of trees and a faint pulse echoed in the back of his mind. He answered it impatiently, and was granted passage once his identity was confirmed.
Eldalye, Forest of Secrets. Known to Obi-Wan and very few select outsiders as the home of the Quenya.
A sentry approached him. "Arda Kenobi, the Elders-" but Obi-Wan brushed past him resumed his reckless pace.
Anakin's breathing worsened and, coughing and gasping for air, he choked out "Please…don't die...mom…" Thrashing about, he almost unseated Obi-Wan in a frantic attempt to escape his hold.
Obi-Wan tightened his grip on both the reins and Anakin as he ducked under branches, around bushes, and through hidden pathways. `Holdon Anakin, please, hold on.' At last he reached the final marker,and with a gesture of his hand and considerable concentration of energy, the blockade of trees in his path shifted. Where there had been a solid line of thick foliage and overbearing impassable trees, there was now a worn trail, barely visible, winding through roots and tree trunks and leading down into a valley so beautiful that normally Obi-Wan would pause to take it in. But the waterfall mists and rainbow flora held no fascination for him now. He felt only the bleak awareness of time slipping away from the passionate spirit of the Jedi wrapped in his arms.
*****
Anakin drifted in a sea of sand.
Rough and coarse, each grain abraded his skin with the ferocity of a sandstorm. Scalding heat beat down on him relentlessly, weighing him down and slowing his movement. The sand was everywhere, in his eyes, his nose, his mouth, choking him. The dry air seemed to mock his attempts to breathe. Sharp spikes of agony wreaked havoc on his nerve endings. He could feel all of this, but could see nothing. The universe remained an uninterrupted shade of grey.
He tried to call for help, but no sound emerged from his throat. A bright green light, accompanied by an all too familiar hum, flared at the edge of his vision somewhere off to his left. From the reflection of the lightsaber, Anakin could make out the broad forehead, broken nose, and hawk eyes of Master Qui-Gon.
He stood in a classic defensive posture, lightsaber in a two-handed grip, legs shoulder-width apart, knees bent, ready for an attack. It was a sight Anakin had seen so many times, and drew strength from: his master prepared to defend and protect. But he looked old, far too old even for his many years, and weary beyond description. And his eyes -- Anakin's heart broke to see the utter desolation written there. Though Master Qui-Gon stood some distance away, Anakin heard the anguished plea clearly in the back of his mind, "It doesn't have to end this way."
A flash of blood red light seared Anakin's vision. The wind stole his tears as he watched his master, now a statue of colorless sand, crumble and drift on the breeze until there was nothing left but monotonous black. Darkness closed in on Anakin with ruthless determination, bringing with it a bitter frost that made his bones ache and his heart seize. His limbs became frigid, the scorching heat a forgotten memory. Anakin tried to block out the darkness and feel something, anything other than the complete numbness that controlled him.
"You're a funny little boy." Her voice echoed through the void of nothingness. Padme looked exactly as she had the day they'd met. Blue hand-woven tunic overlaid with a dull frock, her hair up in a multitude of braids, a quiet presence that did nothing to hide her angelic beauty. Anakin reached out to her, to touch, to feel something that would thaw his heart. But his hand passed though her as if she were simply an incredibly detailed holo-image. Looking more closely at the perfect artifice, Anakin perceived nothing of the shy, curious, and slightly teasing amusement that should have brightened her smile; the blank emptiness in her sable eyes made him shiver. He pulled back and the illusion disappeared.
Lost in the darkness of his mind, he almost missed the whisper of his name. Like the release of a pressure valve, his heart unclenched and the universe resumed its spectacular array of color. Anakin's relief was short-lived. Once again, red consumed his sight, almost artfully decorated on worn home-spun cloth. Anakin collapsed on the ground, tenderly lifting the battered body of his mother from the blood soaked earth. Her gaze locked on him, pain and amazed delight equally balanced on her features.
"Ani…" With a sigh and fragile smile, she closed her eyes and relaxed against his chest. The shadows closed in again. He couldn't move, he couldn't feel, he couldn't see. But he could scream.
*****