“Today we are going to learn how to use the Force to travel in our minds to events and places we’ve experienced before but have difficulty recalling,” Tionne began. “Part of working with the Force is developing the strength of your minds. All of you have heard stories from your childhood of places you’ve visited and events that took place. But sometimes it’s hard to remember things that happened long ago. By using the Force you can reach into the darkest corners of your mind and find memories you can’t quite grasp or never knew you had. Work together - this will be a difficult task for most of you.”
Anakin turned toward Tahiri, then turned back to look at the red-haired girl. He knew how she must be feeling. He remembered all the times on his home planet, Coruscant, when his older brother and sister had run off to play and left him alone. Quickly he slid off his seat and walked down the aisle to the girl. She was staring at the ground. Slowly she raised her yellow eyes to meet Anakin’s blue ones.
“Come join my friend and me,” Anakin beckoned.
The girl quietly stood and followed Anakin back to his seat. She sat down next to Tahiri.
“My name is Lyric,” the red-haired girl sang out in a voice that sounded like the bubbling of water over the smooth stones of a stream.
“I’m Tahiri, and this is Anakin,” Tahiri began chattering. “It’s strange that I haven’t talked to you before now-I mean, I’ve talked to just about everyone here…. Come to think of it, I tried to speak to you the first day at the academy, after I learned that you’d been here longer than any of us, studying with another group of candidates. You were even shyer than Anakin,” Tahiri said with a grin at her friend. “So, where are you from? What planet? You’re humanoid, right? How old are you?”
“Tahiri,” Anakin said sternly, “give her a chance to answer one question before you shoot another at her.”
Still, he was pleased that his friend was being so nice to Lyric. Tahiri, too, understood what it was like to be lonely. She was an orphan. Her
parents had disappeared when she was three years old, and the Sand People of Tatooine had taken her into their tribe. They were a violent, nomadic race that wore strips of cloth over their entire bodies and dark goggles and breath masks that covered their faces. Tahiri had lived with them for six years. Six years without any contact with other human children.
Tahiri grimaced at Anakin’s interruption, then turned back to Lyric.
“So, where are you from?” she asked with a grin. Lyric met Tahiri’s eyes with her large yellow ones. “I am from the moon Yavin 8,” she began. “I’m a Melodie.”
The Jedi Knight Tionne walked over to Tahiri, Anakin, and Lyric.
“How is your memory work going?” she asked. Tahiri frowned. She didn’t want to do the exercise right now. It was more interesting to learn about Lyric. She’d never met a Melodie before, and she wanted to know more about Yavin 8 and Lyric’s species. Tahiri sighed. The conversation would have to wait until later. She smiled at Pionne, then turned to Lyric.
“Why don’t you tell us a memory that you want to recall?” Tahiri said to the Melodie. Lyric shyly looked at Tahiri, her large yellow eyes earnest.
“Let me think for a moment,” she replied, and closed her eyes. While Anakin waited for Lyric’s memory, he began to doodle on a sheet of paper. He was drawing the strange symbols he and Tahiri had seen carved deep in the jungle, in the crumbling stones of the Palace of the Woolamander.
Symbols which were not only carved above the entrance to the palace, but deep within its base, down a dark spiral stairway, in the place where Anakin and Tahiri had discovered the mysterious golden globe. In that place, they could almost taste the evil of those who used the Force to serve the dark side. Anakin forgot about Lyric and Tahiri and closed his eyes, letting himself drift back to the jungle-back one week, when he and Tahiri had rafted the river of Yavin 4 and raced through the rain-soaked jungle to find refuge from the howling winds.
Recalling places and memories, whether they were recent or far past, was a skill he ‘d always had. At this very moment, Anakin could smell the dusky sweetness of the Massassi trees that lined the lush moon, could see their dark purplish bark. He could feel the cool soil of the jungle, wet from the storm that had threatened to capsize he and Tahiri’s raft.
Anakin moved toward the place he and Tahiri had found to escape the storm, the Palace of the Woolamander, and stood beneath its entrance, staring up through the rain at the strange carvings in its crumbling stones. Then he moved inside the palace and down a dark corridor. He heard the skittering of hundreds of woolamanders as they raced away from his intrusion.