CHAPTER TWENTY

SOMEHOW, ARTIE DRIFTED TO SLEEP. THE CAVE WAS VAST, DRY, AND THEY HAD MANAGED TO START A FIRE, and her fear had exhausted her so that sleep came almost easily.

"It's all right, Artemis," Obi-Wan had said when she, with eyes half-lidded, had offered to take the first watch. "You need to rest."

"Wake me," she'd replied thickly, "if . . . if something . . . happens." And the moment after, she was asleep.

Artie was met with a dream. At first, she didn't realize it was a dream; her eyes flitted open and she was still stretched out on the cool ground, stiff and confused, but alone. Artie bolted upright, searching wildly for Obi-Wan, but she was the cave's lone resident. She swallowed hard, unsure if she should call out or remain silent — would it matter? If Obi-Wan had been taken, surely she had been seen as well. Panic swelled in Artie's chest; her thoughts felt inhibited, like she was fighting off drunkenness. Before she could do a thing, a soft voice broke the silence.

"You have no idea what you're involved in, do you?"

It came from her left, deeper into the shadows of the cavern she and Obi-Wan had left unexplored. Artie scrambled to her feet, squinting against the dark, and her first thought was that she was staring into a mirror, or otherwise the very polished, smooth face of a rock. But what she took to be her own reflection came close, closer, until Artie realized with a paralyzing wave of terror that it was no reflection at all.

     Artie watched herself creep closer; with every limping step her other self took, Artie took several back. "What's happening? This is a trick —"

"No," the doppelgänger said softly. She stepped into the firelight and Artie's stomach dropped. The second Artie seemed slightly older, hair a little shorter, but truthfully the present Artie only noticed these small things to avoid the glaringly obvious. The second Artie's face was smeared with blood. Her clothes — a variation of the breeches and tunic the real Artie wore now — were torn and scorched and stained with red. Her eyes were blacked and the skin exposed on her arms was scarred strangely, an odd pattern like vines winding over her flesh, never-ending.

     The real Artie inhaled sharply, terrified, and shut her eyes. When she opened them again, she was still met with her broken self.

     "What is this?" she whispered weakly, feeling tears rise in the back of her throat.

     "A warning," the second Artie replied sternly. "The path you're on — the one you follow Skywalker down — leads to and ends with your death. You must turn away from him."

      An unseen fist wrenched Artie's stomach to a pulp; blood roared in her ears so loud she could hardly hear the double speak. "Is this a vision?" she croaked.

     "A warning," the doppelgänger insisted again. "Leave Skywalker now. Let him go — his true destiny is here, on Mortis, and far away from you. Save yourself — save Obi-Wan — lest you want this to become your future," she gestured to her scarred arms and hands. "Skywalker is your doom."

     Artie could not swallow past the lump in her throat. "This isn't real — I'm asleep." Her hands curled into fists at her sides. "This is a nightmare." She could almost hear Anakin's voice: This gives talking to yourself a whole different meaning, huh?

     "You should know by now that dreams carry great significance . . . reality tends to follow their trend." The doppelgänger paused. "And if you do not know, consider it now."

     "Anakin would never hurt me," Artie said firmly.

     "He would say so as well," the nightmare replied coolly.

     "Then why . . . why are you saying these things?"

     "I'm you. They've happened to me. They will happen to you." The nightmare pulled down the front of her shirt and revealed where all her pale, sinuous scars led: they coiled on her chest like little snakes ensnaring her heart like whatever had caused them had carved its way into the hollow between her bones. The skin around the wound was red and raw and glistening. "If you listen to no one else, at least listen to yourself."

     Artie could not contain her fear. She clutched at her chest where her lookalike was so marred and backed away. "This . . . this is a trick."

     The nightmare rolled her eyes. "Fine. Think so. Keep your mind as closed as it has always been — but I do not lie. In due time I will be proven right."

     The nightmare bowed her head and turned slowly. She disappeared into the blackness behind her as if made from smoke.

     "Artemis?"

     Artie shot up and gulped in a breath of air as if she had never tasted oxygen before. She let out a small cry, a childish wheeze that she associated with her younger years. But she felt eight again. She found Obi-Wan knelt before her, brow pushed down in concern, a hand bracing her arm. Dim firelight set his pale, thoughtful eyes ablaze. "Artemis?" he said again, "what happened? What did you see?"

      "I saw . . . I. . . ." But how could she explain? How could she get across the full horror of what she had witnessed without revealing the nature of her and Anakin's relationship? Though such a large part of her suspected Obi-Wan had known for a long time, it was too much of a gamble. Too great a risk. Artie swallowed hard and shifted to sit up better. "I saw myself. Hurt and . . . and covered in scars. I was warning myself — warning us — to . . . to leave. As soon as possible." Without thinking, Artie put a hand over her heart. Still beating. "We need to find Anakin."

     Obi-Wan was quiet for several moments, no movement on his face except for the flickering shadows cast by the fire. Finally, he said, "I agree. As soon as day breaks, we'll start searching."

     Artie nodded. She drew her knees up to her chin and clasped her hands around them, shivering despite the humidity. Artie resolved to remain awake and wordless until morning, but a thought struck her suddenly and required an answer more than she desired to stay quiet.

     "How did you know I'd seen something?" she asked Obi-Wan. "Did you . . . did you have a vision, too?"

     Obi-Wan smiled softly and turned his eyes from her. "A hallucination, it seemed more like," he mumbled. He allowed several moments of silence, and then, "Unfortunately, one with an extensive backstory and explanation we haven't time for. But I do know that wherever we are . . . is unique. The entire Force of the universe flows through here. It is no accident that we were separated from Anakin."

     Artie sighed. "That's great." She busied herself with the frayed end of her sleeve but soon could stand the tension in the air no longer. "You can . . . you can tell me what you saw, Master."

      Obi-Wan's eyes kept their smile, but his mouth fell. "I'd rather not, Artemis."

     And the subject was dropped for the rest of the night.

• • •

    THEY ABANDONED THE CAVE AS SOON AS A CRIMSON SLIVER OF DAWN BROKE ACROSS THE HORIZON. AS ARTIE AND OBI-WAN TREKKED through the valley beneath the mountain, all the dead and dying plants, grass, and trees that had withered at nightfall brightened and regained life as soon as sunlight touched them.

     "This is bizarre," Artie mumbled as a crushed and browning flower bloomed again before her eyes. "It's not just like seasons changing, it's . . . it's like resurrection." She felt silly for even saying it, but was rebirth not happening as she stood there?

     "The planet is renewing herself," Obi-Wan mused, touching a hand to his chin.

     "Do you think Anakin saw things last night? Visions? Like we did?"

"It's impossible to know for sure," Obi-Wan replied, "but I don't doubt it."

Artie wanted to wail aloud. "How do we know if he's all right? Whatever he might have seen — you know how he reacts. What if — what if —"

"Anakin is not easily deceived, Artemis," Obi-Wan assured her calmly. "Reckless, yes, but not witless. Have faith in him."

Artie folded her arms, feeling a little bit defensive. "I do have faith," she insisted. "It's just . . . this place . . . fills me with all kinds of doubt. It's like —"

She broke off. Two large, plunging shadows fell over them, and they whipped around. Quicker than either Artie or even Obi-Wan could draw their sabers, a pair of flying beasts swooped down on them and seized them in sharp talons. The creature that wrenched Artie off the ground was chillingly familiar — it was the Son's secondary form, the awful gargoyle-esque animal he had transformed into after warning her and Obi-Wan about the night's storm.

Artie bellowed out in fear and confusion and tried desperately to get a glimpse of Obi-Wan, though between dangling hundreds of feet in the air and the Son's impossible grip on both her arms, it was a difficult feat. She caught glimpses of white, the whip of a slender tail and ivory feathers, and could only assume Daughter had taken a similar form and taken Obi-Wan. Tears pooled in Artie's eyes as panic surged within her, as the wind lashed at her face and neck and seemed sharp as knives. She screamed again.

They did not fly far. Equidistant from the mountain as the valley was a tall, curving structure that could have been anything, but Artie's gut told her was a place of divinity and things not quite human. It seemed almost like a castle, elegant and vast, stretching high into the morning sky. At the base, on its edge, laid a perfectly round courtyard — or arena. Artie did not know for certain. Her shoulders burned and seared with pain too great to devote much thought to anything else. Every beat of the Son's wings made her head pound with blood and pressure mounted behind her forehead as they plummeted towards the courtyard.

Two figures stood in its center.

Nauseous and lightheaded, Artie could not at first discern who they were. Only when one spoke did she snap back to rigid attention.

"What is this?" demanded Anakin's voice. "What are you doing?"

Artie dared to look up. She found Anakin, just yards away, beside a tall and aging man. Like the Son, he had no whites in his eyes, only small glowing irises, though rather than red his were bright blue. His identity became suddenly clear. Father.

"It is time you face your guilt and know the truth!" the Father declared spreading his arms wide. His robe's silken sleeves flapped in the wind and the Son gave a satisfied growl that Artie felt hum in his beastly chest.

Artie wanted to shout out, to implore Anakin not to give in to this stranger's taunting, but the Son let fall more of his weight onto her shoulders and Artie felt as if her very spine was being slowly compressed into itself. It stole all words from her and it was all she could do not to shriek in pain. Across the arena, a beautiful creature held fast to Obi-Wan; it had a long beak but mammalian eyes and ears, almost feline in nature, broad white wings, talons for forefeet and paws for the hind. It could only have been Daughter.

Anakin's eyes swept over Artie and for a split second, she felt his pure, feverish delirium. "I will not play your game," he said severely, tone growing dark in a way that made Artie wary. "Let them go."

The Father only chuckled. He folded his white hands behind his back and began to circle Anakin slowly. "No, I think you shall do just as I ask. I've commanded my children to kill your friends -- whomever you save is entirely up to you." Before their eyes, the Father vanished and reappeared at the top of a flat stone platform high above the rest of them. "By choosing, you will free yourself. Only you will understand the depth of your decision . . . but it is clear to all the parts of you either represent."

Artie's stomach dropped and feeling waned from her legs. It was more than obvious what side of the Force each sibling championed, and if Daughter, the Light, held Obi-Wan, then that must have meant . . .

Anakin rounded on the Father. "No!" he bellowed. "I won't choose -- this is not the only way. . . . It can't be the only way."

But across the arena, Obi-Wan gasped in pain and a look of fierce defiance seized his face. "They're too powerful, Anakin. Save Artemis and leave -- "

"Shut up!" Artie screamed at Obi-Wan. "Don't say that! The Republic needs you -- people need you, not me!" The Son bore down on her again and Artie shrieked in agony; her very frame could not support this monster's weight, and her spirit withered beneath the cold hatred that seemed to pulse from this Force wielder's very skin.

"Anakin," Obi-Wan pleaded, "this planet is the Force. Use it."

Artie watched Anakin go very still. He shut his eyes and bowed his head and for a terrifying moment, she thought he might be giving up. But he said, low and ferocious, "You will let them go."

He threw his arms out and a shockwave quaked the ground; power pounded from his very palms and set Daughter and Son staggering back, their holds relinquishing ever so. Anakin raised one hand and lifted Daughter off the floor; he did the same with his other hand and the Son was forced up as well, and Artie's feet dangled limply in the air. As the two sibling wielders remained suspended and powerless, much, it seemed, to their confusion, everything began to shift. Shadows swept across the sky like a dark veil as everything, living or otherwise, trembled with conflicting energies; the courtyard's mosaiced floor blackened and then glowed brilliantly, small pinpricks like stars glowing through an inky fog that spread at their feet. Lightning crashed and thrust violent arcs of white light over Anakin's face, his face so twisted with focus and determination . . .

. . . such blistering stubbornness.

Anakin lowered his hands and the Son released Artie at once. She hit the ground hard, landing crouched on the balls of her feet and heaving for breath. She glanced up; Daughter had let Obi-Wan go as well. Though considerably relieved, Artie's solace was not long-lived. Obi-Wan drew his lightsaber as soon as his hands could reach his belt, sensing danger a fraction sooner than Artie; she barely rolled out of the way before the Son, in all his monstrousness, stumbled forward, mirrored by his sister, to writhe in the center of the floor. They shrank back into their humanoid forms and wrestled impetuously against the hold Anakin retained over them as if he scourged them with invisible whips.

"On your knees," he commanded icily, and the sibling wielders folded in reverence. They knelt before him, trembling, void, and beaten. As the Son and Daughter stared up at Anakin in stunned bewilderment, the sky returned to normal and warm sunlight surrounded them in a soothing deluge.

"And now you see what you truly are," the Father said rather matter-of-factly. He materialized behind Anakin, who shook so badly Artie wanted nothing more than to rush to him, help him, steady him. The Father went on, "Only the Chosen One could tame both of my children."

"I took your test," spat Anakin, avoiding the Father's stare. "Do what you said you would and let us go."

"You must first understand the truth." He lifted a hand. "All of you — leave us. Immediately."

     Anakin caught Artie's eyes before Obi-Wan led her away. He looked like he wanted to say something desperately, but it was something not to be overheard.

It would have to remain unspoken for the time being.

• • •

THEIR SHIP WAS DOCKED ON A SMALL LAUNCHPAD ON THE OUTSKIRTS OF THE MONASTERY. THEY FOUND IT REPAIRED AND ALMOST LIKE NEW, which was truly saying something when it came to one of Anakin's ships. He treated them so recklessly it was a miracle any of them could still fly.

Anakin returned a half-hour after the Father sent Obi-Wan and Artie away. At the sight of him, Artie's heart leaped, thrilled beyond logic that he was safe, back in familiar conditions, close enough now that she could seize him and hold him down she he try to wander off again.

"What did the Father want?" Obi-Wan asked as soon as Anakin was within earshot.

Anakin shrugged and rolled his eyes dismissively. "Wanted me to stay behind and babysit. Like that's gonna happen."

This was apparently a satisfactory answer for Obi-Wan. He nodded briskly and turned back towards the shuttle ramp. "Let's get out of here. The sooner we're off this planet, the better."

Obi-Wan disappeared inside the ship. The moment he was out of sight, Artie and Anakin tackled each other in an embrace.

"I'm sorry I left," he said into her hair. "I was stupid. I shouldn't have gone. That man — the Son — he sent me visions . . . I saw awful things."

"I did too," Artie whispered, clinging tightly to him. "I didn't know it was the Son."

Anakin drew back to look at her. His eyes were heavy with guilt. "I'm sorry I left you. I'll never do it again." He tilted his head and caught her mouth in a kiss and Artie felt, for the first time since they found themselves on that strange planet, that perhaps things might soon be all right.

Anakin pulled away and smiled at her, a roguish glint in his gaze. "You're gonna marry me someday."

Artie could not stop her grin. "I know I am."

"I love you."

"I love you, too."

They savored a few more moments, then reluctantly put the distance back between them and climbed the ramp up into the ship. Despite it, Artie felt like boulders had been lifted off her shoulders. Anakin was safe. He loved her. She loved him. As long as they were together, what need be feared?

But a small voice, minuscule, really, though impossible to ignore, mimicked the nightmare's warning:

Skywalker will be your doom.

note.
thank you for reading! so sorry if youre a rereader and the ending to this chapter seems a little different. wattpad deleted the end of this chapter so i had to come back and write it again. i hope you enjoyed!!