Before The Shaman of the Whills (Qui-Gon/Obi-Wan adventure/drama) Now complete!

Chapter 6

Obi-Wan had enough honesty in him to admit that he was bored, sitting alone in a tiny stone room without so much as a window to break up the monotonous gray in front of his eyes.

He knew it was a great honor to learn from the Ancient Order of the Whills, and he was putting his best efforts into the meditation techniques Siddhari had taught him, but even a Jedi had limits. His body ached from sitting still for so long and he was hungry again, but he knew mealtime was several hours away yet. He had no idea how long Qui-Gon would be in seclusion with the Shaman of the Whills. It could be days. Or even weeks.

Obi-Wan stood and stretched. He was tall enough that his fingertips brushed the ceiling as he did so. That felt better, but what he really wanted was to walk around and stretch his legs. Was he allowed? No one had warned him not to wander around, but the Whills were so secretive in general, maybe they wouldn't like it.

Obi-Wan opened the door to his cell and poked his head out. No one was around. All was quiet. Suddenly decisive, he slipped out into the corridor. He'd just walk around for a few minutes and then return. That couldn't do any harm.

The Sanctuary of the Whills was built like a maze, with corridors branching out at odd angles and numerous small chambers with no apparent purpose strung together like beads on a necklace, but Obi-Wan had a good sense of direction and kept track of how to get back to his cell. Every so often, he would have to go up or down several rough-hewn steps in the floor, treading carefully so he wouldn't trip in the dim light of the glowglobes resting in sconces spaced far apart on the walls.

Suddenly, he saw natural light shining from the end of a corridor. Eager to feel the warmth of sunshine on his skin, Obi-Wan walked quickly toward it.

The corridor opened into the largest room he'd seen yet in the sanctuary. It looked like some sort of gathering place, but the wooden benches were all pushed to the edges of the room. Smooth marble pillars supported the vaulted ceiling. The large expanse of empty stone floor appeared striped from the shadows and light cast by the windows set high in the wall to his right. Obi-Wan walked to the center of the room and tipped his face up to the warming rays of sunlight. Nothing but blue sky was visible through the window, but the color was a relief for his eyes and his mind after looking at nothing but stone walls for so long. He stood there for several minutes, just savoring the change.

Eventually, it occurred to him that he hadn't even looked at the other half of the room. He turned to look behind him -- and widened his eyes in surprise.

The entire back wall was painted with an enormous fresco, the colors vivid in the late afternoon sun shining upon it. A brilliant sun was painted at the top center of the painting, its rays falling down upon three figures, painted larger than life. In the center, a young dark-haired man dressed in white was looking down and to his left at a dark figure who gripped the young man's wrist tightly, as if to drag him downwards. The shadowy man stood surrounded by flames and smoke that swirled around him and half-obscured him. His hood was pulled forward so far that only the tip of his nose showed, yet Obi-Wan felt revulsion rise in his throat as he looked at the figure, feeling sure the hood hid a monstrous visage.

The third figure stood on an incline at the young man's right hand. He, too, was dressed in white and looked very similar to the young man in the center, except he had auburn hair and beard, and his face was twisted in anguish. His hand stretched down imploringly to the young man -- who appeared to be drawing away and turning instead toward the shadowy man, with a strangely blank expression on his face.

Unaccountably, Obi-Wan felt his pulse quicken as he looked at the two men on either side silently struggle over the young man between them. He suddenly realized that he was holding his breath, and took in air with a gasp, but he was already lightheaded. A knot twisted in his stomach si

A vision in that fresco Obi-Wan is very inquisitive.

Nice post

The paintings might be an ominous look into the future I wonder if the bearded man will someday be Obi-Wan.

Excellent post.

Your story has gotten me hooked I absolutely love it. Can?t wait for the next post keep up the amazing work.

ohh that was interesting! I really like! I do wish I knew what training Qui Gon was getting. Though I suppose that won't be told....

Yes, he is. Curiosity killed the cat.

Thank you. More will be revealed in the next few chapters!

Thank you for your comments! I'll keep the posts coming as fast as DRL will allow!

Yes, I wish I knew about the training too.

Chapter 7

Obi-Wan could not stay away from the fresco. It repulsed him, yet it compelled him.

Each day he arose, determined to spend the entire day meditating with the monks of the Whills as he should. And every day his will would waver, until sooner or later he excused himself and returned to the sun-striped room, where he would sit cross-legged on the floor in front of the painting for hours at a time. No one disturbed him. After many days of this, he knew every detail. He knew every vein that stood out in the central figure's neck. He knew that there was a chip in the plaster near the shadowy man's right knee. But most of all, he knew the third man, the one who tried and failed to help his friend. His expression, his posture, the blue sky behind him sullied by rising columns of smoke -- everything about him spoke of despair.

He sat before the painting as usual one morning, lost in thought, when he heard footsteps coming down the corridor toward him. Obi-Wan scrambled to his feet and hastily brushed the dust off his trousers as he turned to face whoever was coming.

With a rustle of heavy fabric, a woman draped in ivory robes and a simple head covering walked into the room. The Shaman? Obi-Wan guessed. He had not been able to see her clearly before, through the curtain. Her face was deeply lined with wrinkles, but her eyes were bright as a bird's. Qui-Gon entered the room a step beside her.

"Good morning, Padawan," Qui-Gon said, moving forward to greet him. Obi-Wan bowed to him respectfully and said, "Good morning, Master. I hope you are well?"

"Well enough," Qui-Gon said. "I don't believe the two of you were formally introduced before. Obi-Wan, this is the Shaman of the Whills. You may call her Your Grace."

"I am pleased to meet you, Your Grace," Obi-Wan said, bowing low.

"Young Obi-Wan," the Shaman said, her cracked voice echoing in the large room. "I'm afraid I kept your Master from you longer than you would have liked."

"A Jedi must learn patience," Obi-Wan said respectfully. "And Elivo has been teaching me your meditation techniques while I waited."

"So he said," the Shaman said. "He also said you neglected practicing those techniques, in favor of admiring our artwork here." The Shaman's tone was neutral, but Obi-Wan flushed with shame and looked down at the floor. In the uncomfortable silence that followed, he couldn't decide whether to apologize or try to defend himself, and in the end he decided to simply hold his tongue.

To his surprise, the Shaman began to chuckle, and although her laugh was wheezy, the sound was surprisingly warm and good-natured. "Relax, young one," she said, and Obi-Wan dared to look back up to meet her gaze. "I will leave your discipline to your Master," she added. "You are hardly the first student to be distracted thus; even I keep the walls of my meditation chambers free of art so I can concentrate properly. Still, despite your lack of focus, have you found success in recollecting any of your previous forms?"

Obi-Wan's mind flashed involuntarily toward the painting behind him, and he could not stop a swell of dark despair from washing over him. But he was a Jedi, and so he lifted his chin bravely and said,

"With respect, Your Grace, I don't believe in the cycle of souls."

The Shaman's eyebrows shot up in surprise, and then drew together in a V as she suddenly advanced on Obi-Wan, her intense gaze boring into him. Taking a step back away from her, Obi-Wan couldn't help but feel like an open book under those bright eyes, as though all his thoughts and fears and hopes were laid bare before her...

"So you say," she said in a low voice, "and yet you doubt your own words. You have remembered something." She took another step toward him. "I sense much fear in you, young Jedi. Why should you fear to tell me of your other pasts?"

Obi-Wan could not sort out a proper response to this question and looked to Qui-Gon for help, but in a rare turn of events, his Master seemed caught off-guard by the turn in the conversation. Unnerved and eager to avoid the Shaman's sharp

Intrigue and the mystery deepens. Great update to a nice story.

Thank you! This is my first attempt at a story with mystery elements.



Whoa, where did all my readers go? Anyway, here's the next chapter!

Chapter 8

Siddhari led Obi-Wan to see the Shaman of the Whills. She was seated in front of a desk writing when they entered her chambers. Obi-Wan was relieved to see she looked perfectly serene as she glanced up at them.

"That will be all, Siddhari," she said.

When they were alone together, the Shaman looked up at Obi-Wan and smiled a little, although her eyes were dark with sorrow. "I frightened you, earlier," she said. "I am sorry. I should not have lost control of my emotions." She rose and came to stand in front of him. "The Whills have always been a peaceable Order, but if you had been the dark one..." the Shaman's voice trailed off. "Well, young one, let's just say that you haven't seen me at my best today. You see, even someone as old as I still has much to learn."

"Then, you believe me?" Obi-Wan asked hesitantly.

"We've been going through our records of you," the Shaman said. "I wrote some of them myself. You see, when I first encountered your Master in my research, I was... intrigued. I could sense he was important, somehow, and so I watched him closely. Then, when he took you as apprentice, I set Siddhari to watching you whenever you were separated from Qui-Gon, in case you ended up becoming an important influence on your Master." She laughed humorlessly. "And now I discover that the reason Qui-Gon is important... is because he's important to you."

She touched his cheek with cool, dry fingertips. "You are still so young. But we've studied the pattern of your life, such as it is. Sometimes you have been angry, sometimes you have been impatient... but I do not believe you are dark." She nodded encouragingly at Obi-Wan's silent sigh of relief.

"I have something to show you," she said. "Please, come and walk with me."

Obi-Wan walked respectfully a step behind the Shaman as she led him through the corridors of the sanctuary. It wasn't long before he guessed where she was going. He slowed his steps until she glanced back and said firmly, "Come." Reluctantly, he caught up to her again.

The Shaman stopped in front of the now-familiar fresco and looked unflinchingly up at it.

"Do you know what this is?" she asked him.

"No, Your Grace," Obi-Wan said politely, keeping his gaze fixed on the ground.

"I will tell you the story. It is a true story. The young man in the center, the one descending to the underworld, is the Sun God, who -- along with his twin brother, the Sky God -- ruled over my ancestors here on Guatama many millennia ago.

"You must not misunderstand when I call them gods. They were mortal, but their power was so great and their righteousness so pure, that to their subjects they seemed otherworldly. But greater even than the power of the Sun God and Sky God was their love for each other. It is said they were named thus because nothing could separate them. It would be as impossible as separating the sun and the sky.

"But something did separate them," Obi-Wan said, looking up at the fresco.

"Yes, something did. Or rather, someone," the Shaman said, lightly touching the hem of the dark figure's robe. "Stryfe -- the necromancer, who my ancestors believed had the power to escort departed souls into the underworld. He was jealous of the power of the twin brothers -- he wished to overthrow them, but he dared not challenge them directly. Instead, he donned a fair disguise, and befriended the Sun God, speaking words of flattery to him, telling him he should be worshiped above all others, and introducing him to the insidious pleasures of riches and fair women.

"He spoke lies into the Sun God's ear, whispering to him that the Sky God was jealous of him, and was plotting to depose him and take the glory of the kingdom for himself. The Sun God did not wish to believe -- but for the first time in his life, he doubted his brother.

"Then came a day when the fairest woman in the kingdom -- whom the Sun God had once loved, until Stryfe corrupted that love into a desire to possess her -- fell ill. Her strength dwindled until she was on the brink of death. The Sky God saw his brother's ang

"You are from our planet. You are from Guatama," Siddhari stated matter-of-factly. Obi-Wan lifted an eyebrow.

Yeah I don't buy it either. I think Qui Gon would be more likely and I don't think it he would have been born there either. But cool chapter and really cool idea. I have to ask, what is your thoughts and feelings on the cycles of life idea?

2 new chapter Ya!

I love them both and really liked it when obi and the shaman were talking about the painting such detail and history to it. I think he starting to believe in the circle of life just a little.

I can?t wait for the next post.

I like the indications that Obi-Wan is somehow a reborn soul, and of course, he would be the martyr, our Obi-Wan is self-sacrificing.


"Which one?" she demanded again, pointing at the three figures on the wall. "The dark one?"

"No!" Obi-Wan cried.

"The traitor, then?"

"No... no... I'm just me!" Obi-Wan was barely aware of Qui-Gon moving beside him and putting an arm around Obi-Wan's shoulder.

"The martyr?"

Obi-Wan hesitated. The Shaman waited.

After a long moment, he whispered one word: "Yes."

Interesting that the Sharman now sees Obi-Wan as more important than Qui-Gon.

I am liking this. Well done.

intrigue and mystery all in old tales or are they?

Nice to see the Shaman comforting Obi-Wan

And a great update

JediKaren

Oh boy -- I could probably write a whole essay on that and explore all kinds of fun ideas! I like to keep an open mind, but for now, my thoughts are similar to Qui-Gon's, in the chapter below.

I'm glad you liked the history and the painting - I wanted that part of the story to click more than anything else.

And that's why we admire him so much!

See, she's not all bad.

Chapter 9

The Shaman swept out of the room without waiting to see if he would follow. After a moment, Obi-Wan's curiosity got the best of him and he followed the Shaman through a dim corridor and stopped in front of a plain wooden door guarded by two monks. The Shaman dismissed the men, unlocked the door with one of the keys dangling inside her robes, and gestured for Obi-Wan to enter first.

The room was pitch black, but he could tell by the echoes that it was small. The smell of must filled his nostrils. The Shaman took a glowglobe from a sconce in the corridor and followed him in, closing the door tightly behind her.

In the sudden flood of light that washed across the room, Obi-Wan saw the walls were lined with shelves filled with books -- the old-fashioned kind. An enormous stand rested in the center of the room.

The Shaman handed the glowglobe to Obi-Wan and stepped forward, reverently running her hand over the covers of the dusty tomes before she chose one and placed it on the stand. She opened it gently and began leafing through the pages -- made of wood-pulp paper, not flimsi, Obi-Wan noted with surprise.

"You've seen that we keep our records on holocrons, for the sake of longevity, but our most important volumes are also copied onto paper," she said, her voice bouncing between the stone walls of the chamber. "It's a tradition, dating back to the beginnings of our Order. This is one of the oldest volumes of the Journal of the Whills. Of course no single book could have survived the ravages of time for so long; it has been transcribed and copied and even translated, many times."

Curious, Obi-Wan stepped close by her and held the glowglobe near the pages as she turned them. He could see the words were written by hand in modern Basic, although many of the phrases and spellings were archaic.

"Here it is," the Shaman said. "Chapter 3, Line 127." She stepped aside and, taking Obi-Wan by the shoulders, gently pulled him in front of the book. He read the line out loud:

"And in the time of greatest despair,
there shall come a savior,
and he shall be known as
THE SON OF THE SUNS."

"The Son of the Suns?" Obi-Wan repeated. "Does that mean, the son of the Sun God?"

"That's the question, isn't it?" the Shaman said. "I told you we don't truly know the end of the story of the twin gods, because no record was kept. But a number of our poets over the millennia wrote their own versions of the story. One was written by one of my predecessors -- the Shaman of the Whills 2,000 years ago. In her poem, she writes that the Sky God became a hermit, wandering from city to city in loneliness and despair. In his travels, he finds a young boy who is revealed to him as the son of the Sun God, hidden away by his mother's family because they knew he could pose a threat to Stryfe and would thus be a target for his sword. The Sky God becomes the boy's surrogate father, and teaches the boy the skills he needs to defeat Stryfe and restore the kingdom to its former glory.

"She acknowledged that her poem was only conjecture, but she based it on the line you just read, which she claims came to her in a dream."

Obi-Wan rubbed at his eyes, which felt dry and irritated from the dust in the air. "Why did you tell me all of this?" he asked. "Even if it's true -- don't you think I'd be happier not knowing what lies ahead?"

The Shaman raised an eyebrow. "Knowledge is a gift, young Jedi. I am trying to give you hope. You think you can stop the cycle. Perhaps you can; I cannot see the future. But if you cannot..." The Shaman sighed deeply. "I have heard the story of the twin gods many times, since I was a little girl. I often thought the Sky God must have blamed himself for failing to prevent what happened. I could not bear to think of you suffering in this manner. Look closely at your hands. They are clean. When the times comes -- if it comes -- promise me you will remember that."

The Shaman waited expectantly.

"I promise," Obi-Wan said stiffly.

"You are angry with me," the Shaman said. "But one day you may thank me. I will l

Nice update.

The Shaman is very wise and Obi-Wan will remember some of her teachings.

So that's where Qui-Gon got his knowledge.

Every bit of info leads me to believe it will happen again, if Qui-Gon
doesn't keep an open mind and dig a bit deeper.

Obi-Wan deserves a better life than he had in canon.
I love the way you are writing this, it is believable.

Well done.

Sigh. I had to go back and make a small edit to Chapter 9, where Siddhari says farewell to Obi-Wan. You might want to check it out.

That's what I get for posting a chapter when I'm too tired to think straight!

you can't stop posting can you? Lol don't feel bad. I totally love this story. And your writing.

Yes indeed!

I couldn't agree more. I'm working on an AU story that will hopefully rectify this a bit.

Some days I can't figure out if my tendency to perfectionism is a good thing or a bad thing.

A/N: A big shoutout to StoneBlack at fanfiction.net for coming up with the cookie idea. Thanks!

Chapter 9

"Hey, Obi-Wan! Happy birthday!"

Garen Muln slid a box across the crowded table in Didi's Cafe, which came to a rest right in front of Obi-Wan, and gestured at him to open it.

"Garen, you don't need to get me presents anymore!" Obi-Wan protested. He nearly had to shout over the noise all his friends at the table were making laughing and talking to each other. "I'm really too old for that."

"Since when is 25 too old to want presents for your birthday?" Garen asked. "And this is a special occasion. Your last birthday as a Padawan." The Padawans close enough to hear what Garen said all cheered at this.

"Don't jinx me," Obi-Wan said. "You said that last year, remember?" He opened the box. It was full of cookies: blue ones, shaped like lightsabers. Obi-Wan laughed, and so did everyone else.

"Thank you, Garen," he said as he took a cookie and then passed the box around the table for all his friends to take one, too.

"Come on, have a little faith!" Garen said, talking around a mouthful of cookie. "Qui-Gon has to be on the verge of recommending you to the Council. Master Rhara is making noises about letting me take the Trials, and you're better than I am at everything."

"Except cookie baking."

"Oh, I didn't make them," Garen said, waving a hand vaguely. "I got Bant to do it."

That would explain the faint salty flavor, then. Obi-Wan mouthed a thank-you to Bant, his Mon Calamari friend sitting at the far end of the table, and she waved a webbed hand in response.

"Speaking of Qui-Gon," Garen said, looking around the table, "didn't you invite him?"

"He left to meditate about an hour before I left," Obi-Wan said. "He said he would be here, but..." he shrugged. "I guess he lost track of time."

Qui-Gon must have completely forgotten about his promise though, because as the night wore on and the gathering began to break up, he still hadn't shown up. Obi-Wan returned to the Temple and walked straight to the quarters they shared, but the rooms were silent and empty. Could his Master still be meditating, after so many hours? Next he went to the Room of a Thousand Fountains, where Qui-Gon often meditated, but he wasn't there either.

Sometimes he would use one of the many small meditation chambers scattered around the Temple when he particularly didn't want to be interrupted. Nothing to do, then, but wait for him to return.

Obi-Wan wasn't tired. He went back to their quarters, sat at his desk and flipped on the HoloNet news feed. The big story of the day was the same as it had been the day before, and the day before that: the rumored blockade of the Naboo system. Today, Chancellor Velorum himself had made a plea for the Senate to form a committee to investigate the claims, but as usual the Senators were dragging their feet, afraid to take a stand and risk annoying the powerful Neimoidian delegation.

Politicians, Obi-Wan thought disdainfully, shutting off the receiver emphatically. A Jedi Knight would make short work of confirming or debunking the rumors, but the Chancellor was not supposed to dispatch Jedi without the approval of the Senate, and it didn't seem likely that he would get it.

A knock on his door interrupted his thoughts.

"Come in," he said.

The door opened and Qui-Gon walked in. Obi-Wan was startled at the gleam in his Master's eyes. He looked almost... what? Agitated? Excited? These were words that did not fit his Master. But there was certainly something different about him.

"Obi-Wan!" he said. "Good -- you're still here. I thought you might have left for Didi's already."

"Left for Didi's?" Obi-Wan said, furrowing his brow. "I've already been there, and come back."

"What? What time is it?" Qui-Gon looked at the chrono on Obi-Wan's desk. "Oh. I've missed your birthday. I'm sorry, Padawan."

Obi-Wan shook his head. "It isn't a problem. Truly. What happened to you?"

Qui-Gon sat down on Obi-Wan's bed, only to bounce up again a moment later to pace across the floor. Obi-Wan stared

This time I read the newest chapter here rather than over on the other site. Well done!

Poor Obi-Wan he believes he will live a life of misery and unless
something good happens he just might.

I hate it when Qui-Gon dies and makes Obi-Wan train Anakin.

Now Obi-Wan is very angry with the Sharman, I hope Qui-Gon appears to him and gives him hope.

Good post.

I agree with Gkilkenny, let Qui-Gon visit Obi-Wan and help him.

Nice post with the birthday celebration