MOSAIC: Part 4, Chapter 10
Symbol Stew

by:  Nyc
Feedback to:  Ahdriann@aol.com



DISCLAIMER: Star Wars and all publicly recognisable characters, names and references, etc are the sole property of George Lucas, Lucasfilm Ltd, Lucasarts Inc, 20th Century Fox, Timothy Zahn, Barbara Hambly, YKW and the other writers of the expanded Star Wars Universe.  This fan fiction was created solely for entertainment and no money was made from it.  Also, no copyright or trademark infringement was intended.  Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.  Any other characters, the storyline and the actual story are the property of the author.


The morning light was beautiful as it streaked through the colored panes of glass. Vaiya knelt on the soft pillow she had brought with her in a pool of blue light that spilled onto the floor. She had been meditating for an hour now, and all she could find was this feeling of peace.

It was far from a bad feeling, as far as she could possibly get. But she had sought something more concrete, something deeper. The service had been wonderful, but being unable to participate had kept something from her.

For the first time in forever, Vaiya was jealous of her mother. Late the other night, Vaiya had been called into her parents chambers and had found Mara in the refresher, staring into the mirror with delight. It was an unusual sight, and even more unusual circumstances. A small lock of red hair lay on the rim of the sink, and Vaiya could see that Mara had shaved it from the peak of her forehead, and underneath the shaved hair was the same symbol that had graced Iyala's forehead--the triangle with the sides concaved in.

So she had been consecrated, probably in her infancy. It turned out that all the followers of Yejion were consecrated in infancy, and that the lock of hair was continually shaved back throughout a follower's lifetime. Luke laughed about how the old Mara would have been outraged that such a thing had been done to her outside of her will, and that Mara gave her pledge to no one but whom Mara chose to give it to. In response, Mara had playfully hurled her brush at him.

Of course, it had been a long time, and Mara knew nothing about what lay behind the symbol. She was kept back from participating in the service as well until she could be "re-educated." That soothed Vaiya's jealousy a little.

Of course, the fact that she felt that everyone was suddenly out of character was enough to throw her balance off. But she had grown used to adjusting to her parents' mood swings. The fact that they had suddenly decided to follow Vaiya on her quest for religion would have been surprising under ordinary circumstances, but now that she was beginning to learn about a thing called grace, she didn't feel the need to question anyone.

Except maybe herself.

She wished she could see Valeris.

There were a few oddly comforting things that were familiar. The first thing Mara had done that morning was begin her investigation about Callista's child. It was hard, because even though the temple wasn't isolated from the mainstream by any stretch of the imagination, the fact that they were offworlders, tolerated solely because they were under the protection of the Order of Yejion, was enough to badger their search. Iyala, who had returned as soon as the temple had opened, had offered to take up Mara's search outside the temple walls. Elder Yreyn promised to do what he could, but no one really had any idea how much that promise meant.

Vaiya kept her suspicions to herself. Elder Yreyn was a fine man. Obviously, he and Valeris had once been friends. But as for influence...well, it was hard to tell.

She shut her eyes and took several deep breaths. All of Yreyn's words about visions danced through her head, and she tried to focus solely on the sense of peace inside of her. She used her old Force meditation techniques, hoping to expand them outward as she had done in the past. But it seemed that Yejion had other plans for her. As she contemplated all the many things she had learned over the last months, she tried to fit them together so that they formed some sort of pattern. She was trying to discern whether or not to go running out to Valeris now, or to wait, and was rather enjoying the peace of the meditation when she did have a vision.

It was brief, but very clear. As if someone were showing her a hologram of a person, only the person was in the flesh. A man in black stood some distance before her, his face a mask of red and black lines, all reaching for his forehead and the blunted crown of horns that grew from his skull. His eyes were not on her, but looking off in the distance, and seemed almost reptilian in nature. His mouth was set in a dangerous sneer, but it seemed to lack inner conviction.

Then, slowly, the eyes turned to her. Instead of glowing a bright yellow-green, they darkened into a rich shade of forrest green. The angry line of his mouth softened, and his entire face seemed to shift, as if lifting the mask from it even though it was still painted on. She saw a human being under the mask, or rather, right through it, as if the mask were not there, even though it was, plainly.

She opened her eyes. The sun was already reaching its climax, and her stomach was rumbling. For a moment, however, all she could do was stare into the empty space around her, trying to gather herself together. The vision had not disturbed her, but she felt as if a fascinating puzzle had just been ripped from her grip. It was only when Luke's light footsteps approached that she stirred from her position on the floor.

"They're getting ready to serve lunch," Luke said as he approached his daughter. "I don't know if you can smell it from up here, but it reminds me of the barbecues my uncle used to have when I was young, right after harvest." He glanced up at the beautiful temple columns and through the heavy windows. At the peak of the room, there was a beautiful altar carved high into the wall, gently framed with a thick purple and crimson curtain made of some soft material they called "velvet." Niether Luke or Vaiya understood the altar and what it contained, but they respected it, and kept their voices low.

Vaiya looked up at her father. The clothes that the Durranians had given them were all the same--plain white linen trousers, and simple tunics, each dyed a different color. Luke wore some sort of dark blue, Mara's was green, and Vaiya's was a rich red-violet. The linen seemed to be a specialty of the city, and it was very comfortable. The fact that the colors were right for each of them was something Vaiya chose to dismiss. The fact that they had not been given any shoes was something she noticed.

"Do you like it here?" she whispered, brushing the last of the needles from the muscles in her knees from kneeling too long.

"What's not to like?" Luke asked, slightly dreamy. "They treat us like kings, Vaiya. Or should I say, queens. Mara is happier than I've ever seen her, although we're still searching for..." and he paused, almost hesitating to give Callista's son his adopted name, "Valery."

Vaiya shook her head. "I like it too, but...I don't know. Some things don't make sense. I mean, you used to tell me that Obi-Wan Kenobi used to appear to you and talk to you, and that you saw Yoda and your own father during the celebration of the Rebel Victory. Why didn't any of them ever tell you about this?"

Luke contemplated that for a moment. Then he said, "I never spoke to Yoda or my father. Leia saw him once, and he spoke to her, but that wasn't much. Ben and I only had two or three real conversations, and in both cases we never talked much about the afterlife. Right before I met your mother, he told me he was moving on, that he was leaving me to go deeper into the Force. Maybe because of the way he'd spent his life, fighting for the right cause but ignorant of the real truth, he was being given time to make up for that. Maybe it was a kind of...purification for him. Maybe even in his death he was still having to search. I don't know." Luke looked down at her, slightly perplexed. "There are a lot of things about this that I don't understand, Vaiya. But I am going to stay and learn as much as I can. I just...know that it's right. It's not just a feeling. It's more than that."

"Grace," Vaiya whispered.

"Maybe." He paused. "What about you? Are you going to stay, or are you going to go find Valeris?"

Vaiya took a deep breath. "Mother needs to find him," she said. "I will go with her first, but I will return as soon as she finds him. I, too, want to learn more. I want to be consecrated." Then her voice took on an errie quality. "I have to be, if I'm going to endure the trials ahead."

Luke touched her shoulder. "Did you see something?" he asked.

Vaiya turned to him and gave him a small grin. "I'm trying to take all my visions with a grain of salt, Father," she said wryly. "After all, I haven't exactly had the best of luck."


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