Disclaimer: Star Wars and all its characters are property of Lucasfilm Ltd. No copyright infringement is intended.
Notes: Heavily influenced by my readings on Daoism, as well as Buddhism and Hinduism. Takes place when Anakin is about twelve.

The Dao that can be spoken of is not the enduring and unchanging Dao. The name that can be named is not the enduring and unchanging name.
- excerpt from the Dao-de-jing

. . .

The sound of the rain was deafening as it pounded the permacrete courtyard Anakin stood in. Yet, it was not the sound that he heard most clearly. Instead, he heard the sound of the steady rat-tat-tat-tap of rain droplets drumming on his wooden staff that echoed in his ears.

Anakin held his weapon straight out from his body, as he had for the past hour, though his arm ached from the effort. Obi-Wan stood across from him in the downpour, perfectly still. Water bounced off Obi-Wan's robes, forming a liquid halo around his body illuminated by the glowglobes hanging off the roof's edge. His hair appeared black, plastered to his face so only his eyes could be seen, piercing through the rain, Anakin's skin, Anakin's soul.

It was getting cold. Anakin repressed a shiver.

"Attack me," Obi-Wan said.

Anakin stared. He could see enough in the rain to say, "You're unarmed."

"As long as the Force is my ally, I am never unarmed, my young Padawan Learner. I told you to attack me."

"I can hardly see!"

"Your eyes blind you."

"What are you talking about? You said you were going to teach me how to use the Force. Not drag me into the rain to talk nonsense!"

"And I am. Attack me."

Anakin grunted. His body yearned to move, to keep warm. He took a few steps toward Obi-Wan and gently struck out with his staff, reluctant to hurt Obi-Wan.

But Obi-Wan was gone. Anakin blinked, and the courtyard seemed empty.

"Again," came Obi-Wan's voice, from behind Anakin.

Anakin spun, but by the time he'd whipped the staff around, Obi-Wan had moved again.

"Harder."

Anakin struck out again, but all he hit was the rain. Rat-tat-tat-tap. He swung his head as far as it would go, straining with every sense he possessed, trying to keep up with Obi-Wan. He swung again. And again. And again.

Nothing.

"I can't do this!" Anakin cried. "It's raining too hard. I can't concentrate."

"Use the Force."

Rat-tat-tat-tap. "I can't feel it!"

"Of course you can. It's in everything. You can feel it in every drop of water that strikes your body. It's in the rain. It's in your skin. It's in your eyes that betray you with illusions and distractions."

Obi-Wan's riddles wore on Anakin as much as his futile movements. The cold had sunk through his bare skin, into his very bones. He couldn't repress a shiver this time. He desperately wished Obi-Wan had allowed him to wear his tunic for this exercise.

"What do you mean?" Anakin demanded, swinging again. This time, he actually saw Obi-Wan move, but Obi-Wan avoided the blow with the ease of a man strolling through a park.

"If I were to look at you, I would see nothing but a shivering little boy waving a stick around in the rain. But that is deception. I look at you with my eyes, but I do not see you with them. I see you through the Force, burning with impatience and ignorance."

Anakin gnashed his teeth. The entire situation made him want to scream. Three days ago, Obi-Wan had brought Anakin to a lunar retreat's dojo to train him privately in the Force, but so far all they'd done was fast, meditate, and now stand in the rain.

"Stop looking. Start seeing. Strike me again."

Practically growling, Anakin swept his staff towards Obi-Wan again. This time, Obi-Wan didn't avoid the blow. Instead, he swept his hand in front of him, a casual gesture that forced the staff away, as if it had bounced off thin air.

Anakin struck again.

And again, Obi-Wan waved his hand and the staff bounced away, vibrating in Anakin's hand from the blow, though he'd struck nothing.

"This isn't teaching me anything!" Anakin screamed. "When are you going to teach me how to use the Force?"

"How? How would I teach a tree to grow? Or the wind to blow?"

When Anakin's staff struck down again, it splintered on Obi-Wan's shoulder. He didn't even flinch. He merely stared at Anakin, one eyebrow slightly arched, as if in question.

Anakin stared at the shattered remnants of his staff, watching the rain pelt off its smooth surface.

Rat-tat-tat-tap.

Anakin dropped the staff on the courtyard floor, listening to the crack of wood on permacrete. It rolled away, stopping several feet from him.

Obi-Wan turned and walked towards the dojo's entrance. A warm glow emanated from inside. "When you can see, you may come in. Until then, you will remain out here," he called without looking back.

Anakin resisted the urge to follow him and punch him in the kidneys.

When Obi-Wan's footsteps faded away and his shadow had disappeared inside the dojo, Anakin could hear the rain drumming the broken staff in the distance.

Rat-tat-tat-tap.

Anakin covered his ears. He was so cold he could hardly feel them under his hands. Rain was so foreign to him. Even after three years of experiencing it, he would never get used to the waste of so much water, just falling from the sky without regard for the people eking out a living by collecting morning dewdrops on desert planets at the edge of the galaxy.

Though the sound of the rainfall on the permacrete dulled as he pressed his palms tighter about his ears, he could still hear it tapping on the wooden staff.

Rat-tat-tat-tap.

Anakin leaned his head back and opened his mouth. He gulped at the rain, almost choking as he swallowed too much. It tasted slightly sweet.

Rat-tat-tat-tap.

He could be out here for the rest of his life, trying to understand how to use the Force? Why wouldn't Obi-Wan teach him how?

Rat-tat-tat-tap.

He thought of Obi-Wan, now inside the dojo, where it was warm and dry. The rain suddenly felt like ice on his skin.

Rat-tat-tat-tap.

Obi-Wan had said he could feel the Force in every drop of water that touched his body.

Rat-tat-tat-tap.

The Force was cold and unforgiving. Much like Obi-Wan.

Rat-tat-tat-tap.

What had Obi-Wan meant about seeing without looking?

Rat-tat-tat-tap.

He couldn't see anything.

Rat-tat-tat-tap.

Was it going to rain all night?

Rat-tat-tat-tap.

Screaming with frustration, Anakin grabbed the broken staff and tossed it into the distance, desperate for the noise to stop. He couldn't see it disappear into the darkness, but he could still hear it. He extended his senses towards it, though he couldn't say why.

An image of the broken staff appeared in Anakin's mind, clear and perfect. He could see it spinning, the rain bouncing off its surface, its splintered edges slicing through the water droplets like a razor.

Anakin turned, seeing the water droplets for the first time. The rain was not a sheet of water, but countless drops of water falling from the sky. He could see each one as the broken staff whipped through the air.

The staff crashed onto the courtyard floor.

The rain kept falling.

And Anakin could still see each water droplet as they fell from the clouds. Cold, crystal perfect, until they landed on something and burst into tinier droplets, forming pools around Anakin's feet, rivulets running down his skin.

He could see how air became water, water became air, and air became water again. Each molecule, each element of life was visible to him, glittering across his vision like a sea of stars in the infinite expanse of space.

Anakin could see now.

And he wasn't cold anymore.

Reaching through the Force with a limitless rush of power, Anakin froze the rain in mid-air, each droplet hanging suspended as if time itself had frozen. They splattered as he ran his fingers through them.

Anakin smiled and walked towards the dojo, water splashing his face as he walked. At the doorway, Obi-Wan stood, wearing dry clothes. He stared at the rain's stasis with his eyes wide and his mouth slightly open.

"I can see it now, Master," Anakin said.

Obi-Wan flicked his gaze onto Anakin, eyes intent. "So can I."

Anakin let the rain fall again; something drained out of him that he wasn't sure he could ever recapture. The vision of the molecules as stars in space quickly faded. He felt a chill spreading through his body again, and the ache of exhaustion bit at his shoulders and elbows.

Obi-Wan led Anakin inside and gestured him to sit on the hard wooden floor – there was no furniture in the dojo. Anakin sat, surprised when Obi-Wan draped a blanket over his shoulders. He grabbed the edges and pulled it tightly about himself as Obi-Wan disappeared into the kitchen.

A few moments later, Obi-Wan returned with a steaming mug of methia tea. The cup rattled on the saucer as he passed it to Anakin. Anakin took it in his hands, the warmth quickly spreading from his fingertips up through his arms. He took a sip; the blend had a bittersweet bite to it. Anakin far preferred the taste of the sweet rain outside, but this, at least, was hot.

"I always had the power to use the Force like that," Anakin said.

Obi-Wan sat across from him, folding his hands primly in his lap. "Yes. All Force-sensitives do."

"Then why do we need training?"

"You cannot use a power without understanding some part of how it works."

Anakin mulled that over and took another sip of the tea. He ignored the sting as it burned his mouth – he needed the warmth.

"I still don't really understand it."

"Of course you don't. The Jedi Order has been in place for thousands of years, and none of us has ever fully understood it. It's mind and matter, where mind doesn't matter, and matter doesn't mind. You can only understand a part of it - the part of it that is you. And that's only if you're lucky."

"I thought you said there's no such thing as luck."

"Yes. It's true."

"But you just said that you can only understand part of the Force if you're lucky."

"Exactly."

Anakin took another sip of his tea. "That just gave me a headache."

Obi-Wan smiled and stood up. "When you're finished, you may get some rest. We have a long day tomorrow." Obi-Wan inclined his head and turned on his heel, heading towards corner of the dojo where their sleeping pallets lay.

"Master?"

Obi-Wan paused and half-turned his face to Anakin. "Yes?"

"Do you understand your part of the Force?"

Obi-Wan smiled and looked away. "Yes. It's to teach you how to use that immense gift of yours." He stared outside the door, at the rain, for just a moment before padding over to his pallet.

Anakin drained the last of his tea. He had a power now, one that defied proper explanation or definition. It was a power he always had, or perhaps it had him. He wondered what it all meant, what he meant. If he was the Chosen One of the Force, what could he learn to do as he came to understand the Force?

When he glanced out at the rain, he could hear it drumming on the wooden staff again, somewhere in the distance.

Rat-tat-tat-tap.

End.