My Padawan silently left my side as the flames of Niall's funeral pyre continued to flicker against the hush of nightfall. Stacey had stepped away not long ago, and Obi-Wan's quiet footfall crunched softly across the snow-covered ground as he began to walk her back to the Goeben home. The cinders continued to glow as the flames slowly faded to extinction. I allowed my eyes to close at last; my head tipped forward, and I paused to remember the Knight Niall had been. One thumb absently stroked the other as I kept both hands clasped within my sleeves. I felt the heat of the embers cool and sensed the arrival of the Saljan militia to tend the final stages. Nodding wordlessly to them, I began the walk back along the road. A long sigh escaped from my lips. The events of the past few days had been unlike anything I'd ever experienced, anything I'd ever been prepared to experience. Niall, rogue Jedi, now fallen by my own lightsaber. I attempted to quiet my mind against the myriad questions that had begun to rise once again. I drew in a deep breath of the frigid night air, and continued to place one tired foot in front of the other.

Perhaps many minutes later, I lifted my head to confirm what I felt in the Force. Up ahead, along the side of the road, was Stacey. A faint smile teased my lips as I saw Obi-Wan's robe draped around her, its too-long hem resting on the snow at her feet. I noticed that it had begun to snow once more, the large flakes falling rather swiftly and abundantly. The hood of my own robe had fallen to rest on my shoulders at some point, but I did not draw it again to my head. I breathed another long draught of the cold air, and felt the weight of the day peacefully dropping to the earth beneath me.

Stacey's eyes gazed up a bit worriedly at my own as she greeted me, there, in the road.

"Did you come to guide me home?" I asked of her, smiling at the realization that she had just met an unspoken need deep within me.

"No, I was...well. Maybe. Something like that."

I reached her, then, and stepped directly in front of her. I looked down onto her face, glowing softly in the dimly-lit street, and she diverted her gaze as a slight flush crept over her young features.

"Did the militia finally come to...tend the pyre?" she asked.

"Yes," I reassured. "They arrived not long after you left, but I stayed a while longer. They'll take care of it now." This question, however, was not the reason she had come out here into the snow. "I know you've been worried about me. I've sensed it, and I'm grateful for your concern. But, I assure you, I am fine."

"Really?" she added, a bit disbelieving.

"Yes, really." I couldn't help but smile at the warmth, the sincerity of her care. She nodded almost imperceptibly in silent acceptance, and tilted her head upwards. Her eyes dreamily, slowly, stared across the landscape, and I felt my own gaze captivated solely by her. She had tucked her hands into the sleeves of her robe, just as I so often did. The snow continued to fall, and had begun to accumulate in thin layers upon her shoulders and hood. She turned her eyes to find mine once more.

"Isn't it beautiful?" she said.

She let her eyes close for a moment, and reached her small hands out from beneath the warm folds of the robe, spreading her fingers as if to delight in the new sensation of the chilled air. She flung her arms outward and began spinning slowly around and around, a pirouette amidst the falling snowflakes. Her head tipped back, allowing her hood to fall backwards, and a childlike delight settled itself on her. Her eyes were open wide again, and her cheeks glistened in the light as snowflakes fell and quickly melted by the warmth of her skin.

A smile crept back to my lips, and as she slowed to face me once again I mused for just a moment on her question. "Isn't it beautiful?" she had said. Indeed. This young woman had appeared in my life, literally, only a few short weeks ago. I remembered her on the escape pod, sleeping beneath my own robe, her head resting against my shoulder. Her mysterious illness on Coruscant, as she tried to stand and collapsed into my arms instead. The excitement in her eyes as she felt the Force pulsing between us for the first time. The longing, laden with confusion, so clearly evident as we stood beneath the thunderstorm on Rodia. The soft feel of her hands on mine as we fled, Teeg's knife still wedged between my ribs. The gentle tenderness of her body next to my own as we slept in my bed on Chad. Her fearful panic when she flung herself into my arms, after her own encounter with Niall. And yet none of us could answer the question of why she had been brought here.

She stood there, patiently staring up into my face. Isn't it beautiful?

As a Jedi, it is often my duty to save lives. It is not often, however, that my own life is so deeply affected by the presence of those I save. I am simply there in the moment, not for the rebuilding which inevitably follows. Stacey, though, I have seen to the very brink of death and then thrust into a life she never thought possible. She has taken the gift of life, seized it; she has immersed herself into each new experience, holding nothing back. I can sense her feelings as clearly as I can Obi-Wan's, and yet sharing with her the newness of that bond has brought a renewed sense of wonder to my own perceptions. She has saved my life. And, she has allowed me to share glimpses of her heart. Surely, though, the Force would not pull her away from her own homeworld merely to effect such change in my life, in this single being among trillions.

Isn't it beautiful? I cleared my mind of these questions I had been pondering since Stacey's arrival. Instead, I brought my attention back to this night of remembrance.

"Yes, it is," I replied at last, realizing that she had in fact asked the question of me. "There is always something beautiful, even magical, about falling snow." I followed her, then, and lifted my own eyes to watch the soft confetti drift downwards, diverted now and then by the warm exhalations of air from my mouth. I blinked as the cold flakes settled themselves on my eyelids, and simply allowed myself the pleasure of this moment.

Stacey raised her arms once more and resumed her slow twirls through the snowfall. For now, it did not matter how the Force brought her here, or why. I stood silently and watched as Obi-Wan's robe trailed along in her movements, softly sweeping puffs of air around her as she moved. I stepped across the few paces which separated us, and placed my hands on her shoulders. "Thank you so much, my friend. Your presence here reminds me that I must heed my own advice, and live in the moment," I said. "It has been hard the last few days to do that." I gathered her into my arms and felt her settle comfortably against my chest. "Thank you."

On to part 26

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