Chapter Text
There was a dark light beneath Shmi’s eyelids, the sort of silhouette which would be left behind by a flash of lightning, a black imprint against an even blacker sky. The air bubbled and burned against her skin. She could not see, but she could feel. She could feel herself beginning to fall as a searing wind seized her limbs and thrust her farther back into the tenebrous darkness.
Shmi twisted as she fell and threw her arms out. Her palms smacked down onto a pitted surface and the substance shattered beneath her hands, before liquefying and slithering up her arms in channels of oily sap. She pitched forward, sap crawling up her neck in thick waves and seeping into the corners of her mouth. Shmi began to choke on the goo, her mouth opening to form a shuddering “O”. Her sides heaved as she struggled to breathe.
A faint red glow emerged from the darkness ahead of her. She lifted her head, bones creaking in protest, to find the source of the light. An inky cloud of fog partially obscured her view, but her eyes finally landed on a flickering scarlet beacon several meters away.
Shmi raised a quivering hand before bringing it down again on the pitted surface beneath her trembling frame. She dragged herself forward a foot using her cracked fingernails, and a wave of sap retreated from her throat, pouring out of her mouth in a viscous tide. Coughs racked her entire body, and her ribs ached. She inched her way forward again, sap gushing out of her mouth with every inch until her throat was cleared.
What seemed to be several hours passed before Shmi collapsed directly in front of the floating beacon. She angled her head upward to gaze at its pulsing crimson light. A gentle humming reached her ears. She blinked slowly and relaxed her muscles. It was almost peaceful, lying beneath the beacon, with its light so similar to that of Tatooine’s red moons. Her eyes closed, and she began to drift into unconsciousness.
HISSSSSS.
Shmi jolted awake. The air sizzled as the beacon tilted slightly. She stared at the bar of light with wide eyes. The beacon continued to pivot in midair. Shmi’s brow furrowed.
The beacon lengthened suddenly and its ruby light intensified. Shmi scuttled backwards clumsily, scraping her palms on the rough surface beneath. The pleasant humming turned into something more like the angry buzzing of a thousand bees. Shmi’s heart stuttered as she realized that the beacon’s light was being reflected off of a jet black mask that nearly blended in with the surrounding darkness.
The owner of the mask stepped forward, revealing a square torso encased in black leather. The figure lifted its arms, and at the same time, the beacon floated upward as well. Shmi’s eyes traveled to the base of the beacon and landed on a pair of gloved hands. She shuddered, staring at the figure’s clenched hands as they raised the glowing sword.
Look, came a rasping voice from beneath the mask’s triangular mouthpiece. Look at me, it said mockingly.
Shmi shivered and forced herself to look into the mask’s deep-set eyes. Her own panicked face was reflected in their convex lenses.
The surface of the mask began to writhe like a nest of snakes, before retreating to expose a milk-white, withered face with beady black eyes. Slowly at first, then more rapidly, the sallow skin rippled and the face’s terrible features altered themselves, forming sharp cheekbones and a carefully sculpted nose, a curved mouth and bright eyes beneath tapered brows. Sandy brown hair sprouted from the figure’s pale scalp and cascaded down to their shoulders, framing their newly formed face with untamed locks.
Shmi’s breath caught in her throat.
“Anakin?” she whispered.
Her son gazed at her indifferently, eyes emotionless and lips pursed. He drifted away without taking a single step, simply tilting his body in the direction he wanted to go. Shmi scrambled to her feet and sprinted to catch up with him, but whenever she got within a meter of him, he sped up, zooming over the pitted ground underfoot without so much as a lifted toe.
“Anakin!” she called desperately. She shook her head in frustration as he tilted his scarlet blade and gained several meters, sweeping low over the ground without touching anything but air. He floated upward towards an unseeable ceiling, inky fog curling around his ankles and spilling over his skin like dark water.
Shmi took a running jump and managed to grasp his ankle, but immediately let go with a pained hiss. She collapsed onto the ground and stared in numb disbelief at the blistered palm of her hand.
Clenching her fists, Shmi rose to her feet and inclined her head to watch Anakin’s ascent. It was then that she noticed the shining silver threads gradually emerging from the air itself. Confusion clouded her mind and she pressed a hand to her brow, eyes squinted against the overwhelming disorientation.
Suddenly, the threads lashed out and wound themselves around her wrists. Shmi staggered, eyes wide, and then her arms were yanked upward until her joints ached. She felt herself being lifted into the air, and she kicked her legs wildly, yelling in distress.
Her body began to pick up speed until she was rocketing towards an invisible ceiling. Shmi’s mouth fell open and she screamed hoarsely, twisting in midair.
She didn’t see the ceiling approaching, but she felt the impact. Her body launched straight into a substance that shattered like glass, exploding in a starburst of silver light. A feeling of icy cold swept through her veins, overwhelming her senses. The brief moment of burning pain subsided almost immediately, and Shmi knew that the damage must have been so severe that she was unable to feel a thing.
Mouth gaping, she struggled to breathe as her innards froze, and a silver luminosity appeared in her waning vision. She abruptly dropped like a stone, and she felt her skin stretching from the force of gravity. Memories of past events flashed in front of her eyes, all woven with silver thread and blurred around the edges.
Her stomach heaved and she was yanked upward once more, and the world lurched around her, bending and distorting into long flaxen blades against a mottled gray sky.
The world fell silent, save for the beating of Shmi’s heart and a faint echoing rumble from the heavens. Dirt crumbled between her fingers, and she patted the cool soil beneath her. She sat up slowly and stared at the vast expanse of yellow plain laid out before her. The air was heavy with the weight of an oncoming storm, and the distinct aroma of ozone reached Shmi’s nose.
“Anakin?” she called out warily, climbing to her feet. A sudden gust of wind swept across the plain, ruffling Shmi’s tunic and tousling her hair. She ran a hand down the front of her tunic, flattening the fabric, and turned against the wind, eyes surveying the horizon. Rain was beginning to fall in tiny droplets.
A sputtering sound carried over the plain, followed by the rev of an engine. Shmi frowned and pivoted on one foot to find the source of the noise. Her eyes landed on a rickety speeder barreling towards her. The craft spasmodically spurted out great clouds of smoke that stained the gloomy sky an ugly burnt color.
Shmi eyeballed the approaching speeder cagily. Its driver was bent low over its rusted metal body, practically holding the craft together using only their legs. Shmi shifted on her feet, prepared to bolt in the opposite direction if the speeder’s driver posed a threat.
The driver brought the speeder to a shuddering stop beside Shmi. She scrutinized the hooded figure that slid down from their seat atop the corroded vehicle. They were clad in maroon armor, an amber cape trailing from their shoulders. Her eyes must have been tricking her, because for a moment, she thought she had caught a glimpse of a silver thread winding its way around the stranger’s ankle.
Reaching up with both arms, the figure removed their hood to reveal a youthful face and a shock of auburn hair. He lifted a gloved hand and ran it through his hair, flattening it.
“Hello there,” he said, flashing a toothy grin before gazing at her with serious blue eyes. “Who are you?”
“Who are you?” Shmi immediately shot back.
He smiled easily. “I’m Obi-Wan Kenobi. Are you lost, ma’am?” He inclined his head, acknowledging her seniority.
Shmi’s eyebrows shot up and she cast her gaze about the soon-to-be-swamped plain. She then examined the stranger and his actively disintegrating speeder.
“Oh,” she chuckled, “no.”
“Are you sure?” Obi-Wan asked, looking at her with concern. “I could give you a lift to the nearest village.”
“No, thank you,” Shmi said, shaking her head as she backed away. “I can walk.”
Obi-Wan shrugged passively and sat astride the speeder. “Suit yourself,” he said, glancing up at the sky. He pulled his hood over his head and looked down at Shmi again. “Good luck, ma’am. Nice meeting you.” He revved the engine of his speeder and it jolted slightly, metal plates creaking under the strain of not falling apart, before starting forward across the plain. Obi-Wan steered the speeder past Shmi, then maneuvered it in a wide circle to go back the way he had come. He saluted to Shmi and hurtled away across the grassy expanse, cape flapping in the wind.
A deafening clap of thunder rolled across the plain, rattling Shmi’s bones and setting the tips of the grass blades quivering. Shmi tilted her head back to look up at the dappled sky just as the rain began to fall in earnest. She squinted against the onslaught of freezing water. Her hair was immediately flattened to her scalp and her clothes clung to her frame like a second skin.
Shmi ran across the plain, feet splashing in puddles of mud that dyed her clothes a repulsive shade of brown. Rain lashed her cheeks relentlessly, and her nose went numb in the cold. It didn’t take long for her to lose her sense of direction. She stumbled forward blindly, hands slapping aside cutting blades of grass.
Finally, she slid to a stop in the mud and thumped a fist against her thigh in exasperation. Frustrated tears streaming down her cheeks and mingling with rainwater, she rubbed her eyes with the heels of her hands. She lowered her hands and pulled her tunic tighter around her thin frame, shivering in the freezing rain.
A wavering blue light emerged from within the unyielding torrent of rain. As it drifted closer, Shmi was able to make out the form of a luminous sapphire sword being held by a figure in familiar clothing. The hem of his robe dragged in the mud.
Shmi narrowed her eyes. “Kenobi?”
He angled his sword so that its light illuminated his face beneath his hood.
“Hello again,” Obi-Wan said charmingly.
“What’d you come back for?” Shmi asked suspiciously.
Obi-Wan raised an eyebrow. “Did you really think that I would allow a new Elouthian to spend a night out in the freezing rain?” It was hard to hear him over the roar of rain and thunder.
Shmi scowled. “What did you call me?”
“Ah, yes.” Obi-Wan smiled sleepily, like a tooka-cat bathing in the sun. “Welcome to Elouthi!” Obi-Wan said, his voice infused with exaggerated enthusiasm. He swept his arms in a great arc, gesturing at the soaked plain and the persistent downpour. His sword hissed and sparked as he swept it through the curtain of rain.
Shmi stared at his sword. Obi-Wan saw where her gaze was fixed and said, “This is a lightsaber.” He waved with a flourish and drove the blade’s point into the mud. The thick brown liquid promptly began to sizzle and bubble. Obi-Wan thumbed a switch on the saber’s hilt, and the blade retracted with a whoosh. Without the light from his saber, Obi-Wan’s face was obscured by shadow. Shmi could just barely see the outline of his hooded head.
“Lost, are we?” Shmi could hear the smile in Obi-Wan’s voice.
“Yes,” she admitted, wiping the rain from her brow only for it to be dripping with water again mere milliseconds later.
Obi-Wan chuckled slightly and cocked his head. “Come on.” He turned away and sloshed through the mud in the direction he had come from. As he walked, he ignited his saber and brandished it against the onslaught of rain. Shmi hurried to catch up with him.
Before long, a hulking shape emerged from the darkness ahead of them. Obi-Wan strode forward and seized the fringed edge of a tarp covering the bulky mass. He swept the tarp off of the mass, and a freezing cascade of water rolled off of the fabric and soaked through Shmi’s shoes.
A flash of lightning split the sky and turned night into day for a brief second, before they were plunged into darkness once more. It was within this second that Shmi had the opportunity to fully examine the rusty speeder, along with the canvas bag dangling from its side and the coil of rope on its single seat.
Obi-Wan spun around to face her, his hands outstretched and a look of grim determination on his face. Shmi promptly bolted in the other direction, before she was hit by a wave of nausea so severe that she collapsed on the spot. Her limp body flailed in a puddle of murky water as she struggled to stand.
Grime speckled her skin as Obi-Wan wallowed towards her, his feet kicking up thick globs of mud and drenched clumps of grass. Shmi growled low in her throat and glared up at Obi-Wan. He approached her with the coil of rope held in one hand, the other wielding his lightsaber.
“Lights out,” he droned, pointing an index finger at her forehead.
The world went dark.