Journal of an Old Jedi: One

The end is near.

The end of my seclusion, my hermitage, my penance. I sense it, a growing intensity in the heartbeat of life that is the Force. Great events are coming, and I can not forsee their conclusion. One thing is certain – a time of change is at hand.

My name was Obi-Wan Kenobi, a long time ago when names had purpose and words had meaning. Now I need no name, for I live alone. The locals call me Ben, but that is no matter. They also call me old man, crazy hermit, wizard. They know nothing of me: I am exile, a stranger hiding from the past on this desolate and remote planet.

Tatooine.

I could not have known so long ago, when I was young and foolish, the events that were to be set in motion based on my own recommendation to seek refuge in this place. It was because we came here that my master took a strange young boy into his care, changing my life forever. Was the Force working through me, then? Or perhaps was it the subtle hand of the dark side, already casting a shadow over the eyes of those who should have been more watchful. It was not merely luck, that is certain. In my experience there is no such thing as luck. To happen to land at one particular settlement out of a thousand, to happen to meet one particular boy out of a million – it is clear there was some great power at work. But to what end?

It is fitting, somehow, that I should end up here. And wise, given the circumstances. He will never come back to this place. However much he may have changed, I know him well enough to be certain of that.

It was right to bring the child here, to his adopted family - the most obvious of places. The best place to hide is often in plain sight. My old apprentice did not think to search here, and the forces at his command do not bother with such a remote system. Now the child is a man, and I feel the time is at hand for him to face his destiny.

He had barely left the womb of his dead mother when I brought him here, so long ago. I held him in my arms as she died. It was not easy to give him to the safekeeping of another, I admit. Jedi do not form attachments, but I loved the child dearly as I had loved his father. But I knew nothing of caring for infants. He needed caring, security. A family. Once, the Jedi Order would have been that family, but the Order is merely ghosts and memories now. So I brought him here, gave him new parents to replace the ones who were lost. I assumed that before long I would begin to instruct him in the ways of the Force, so that the light of the Jedi would not completely die. I assumed I would be nearby to guide him, to teach him, to watch him grow, to become his friend. This was not to be. I have not seen his face in many seasons now, but I know he is here. I can feel him, off in the distance. The Force swirls around him furiously; a child of destiny, like his father.

It has been my lot in life to bear the responsibility for destiny’s children.

I cannot fail again.