The Infinite Forests of Endor

1

„... 27, 28, 29, 30! You bet I'm gonna find you!"
Ben opened his eyes and started running as fast as he possibly could.
It was a cold, misty autumn morning on the forest moon, and he and his sister had gotten out of bed early once again. What it was, they probably didn't even know themselves at the time, but whenever the mist settled around the giant trees and hills of their home, it did something to them.
They were suddenly drawn by the desire of solving the long forgotten mysteries that were buried beneath the roots, in short, they were playing one of their favorite games. It was called Haze Hide and Seek, they had made it up themselves. The way the game worked was pretty simple. One of the two siblings had to hide in the morning fog and the other one had to listen, run and search.
The children were crazy about that game, it was a great way to explore every hidden inch of the endorian forests. The moon was their home so they knew their way around the woods, but Ben felt that they held secrets and adventures no one had discovered and experienced yet.
He jumped over this mossy tree stump, dodged that branch and ran across the grassland with no desire to stop, heeding the soft cracks of dry leaf under his sister's shoes attentively. They were close, he was going to get her at last, just like he always did.
„Jaina!" the young boy laughed with a voice sore from running as he reached for something drawing a silouhette behind the misty shades that presented itself to be a small, strangely shaped bush. „Damn it!" he wheezed in frustration and calmed his breath.
The mist was thickening, throwing shadows, seemingly changing the appearance of the brush it was covering. Ben inhaled some of the biting cold air and blew a sweaty black strain of hair from his face.
„Jaina!" he called again. An echoe sounded up into the treetops. The footsteps were gone now.
Ben shivered and carefully looked around. He was standing in a clearing that allowed a tiny glimpse at the sky, a stain of grey swallowed up by greens.
The morning birds had gone silent. The boy felt as if there was something unusual about the place. He knew the woods, every corner, every rabbit hole, or so he liked to brag, and this particular unknown one appeared to be a personal insult to his thesis.

A curious scent, burnt and oily at once, had entered his nostrils and out of sheer thirst for thrill, he began to follow it. The smell wove its way through the thorny thicket and turned more intense as he reached another small meadow of bog soil. There it was: a lawn fire. One of the old hermits had to have lit it. Ben chose to stay for a few minutes and warm up. He approached the flames, held his hands above them and let the warmth awaken his numb fingertips while staring. He stared a while. His muscles loosened and heated, yet he had a shiver up his neck. Beneath the orange gold, something formed. A black heap of coal or carbon became a face, dissolved and mis shaped to the appearance of a tired smirk. A mask. And one well known across the galaxy. Ben's eyes widened and his mouth fell open.
"I see you've found my boy.", a raspy voice behind him suddenly rose to say. His head turned to a creature slowly deposing from the brush. The old pale man wore a long black gown covering most of his face and limped into the clearing with a walking stick and an uncharacteristically brisk pace.
The appearance of the man had startled Ben, left him with an empty head and so he muttered, afraid to actually speak: „Is this him?"
The old man cackled softly. His voice was hoarse and unusually high for a man his age. Ben suspected something close to a grin on his lips.
„That depends.", he responded. „Who is he?"
He seemed almost eager to hear the answer.
„The one they all talk about. The one who lost to the rebel alliance." Ben frowned curiously. „He disappeared and was never found, was he?"
„Indeed he was not.", the hermit sullenly answered. „But say, young man, what makes you think he lost?"
Ben took a confused glance at the corpse and then turned back to the old man. „He died."
This caused the hermit to cackle in an unmannered manner that sent a shiver down Ben's back.
„Oh, young boy!" he exclaimed. „If death equaled loss, we would have nothing to fight for. If at the end of every life span, loss awaited us - what would we even be?"
He took a few large steps and faced Ben directly. „Bodies die due to their worldliness. Worldliness is weakness. One thing, however, always remains."
Ben was slowly beginning to feel intrigued by the tales of the stranger. He wished to know more. „What is that?"
The hermit smiled from one ear to another, a warm and honest smile all of a sudden as he responded: „The force. It is what surrounds us, flows through us and keeps us in place. It is an everlasting field meant to return us order and peace."
"How does one find it?", Ben wondered.
"One does not", the hermit answered. "It kindly finds you." He became silent for a cold moment, turning back to the face dissolving in the ashes. Ben walked closer to the fire and took a look into the melted mask's dreary eyes.
"It found him", the man went on. "It chose him. He could have brought peace upon the galaxy had they only let him - People refuse peace."
"The force will find its way now, won't it?", Ben anxiously asked, glancing back at him. "It will find someone - to finish what he started."
And with a wide smile, the old man said: "I believe, my young lad, it just did."
Ben couldn't help but fixate him. He felt his cheeks heat up from the fire and his limbs tremble with cold.
Whoever this man was, he surely had something respectable about him.
Without a sound, Ben nodded. He stood there, still and unmoving with a blank stare for a while, taking in the story he had just been told.
Then he flinched and ran back into the brush, not looking back at the man.
Branches and thorns brushed his face, arms and shoulders as he ran, not knowing where to, just that he needed to get away.
Once he had made it out of the underwood, he looked up at the canopy and sighed, closing his eyes for a second.
When he opened them, his lips began shaking and he looked around, uncertain he was really alone.
Yet he was. Only two of the unusual endorian birds were having their dance up in the treetops.