Ferns rustled. A gentle wind blew. A not-quite-yellow sun shone warmly over the open field where the Jedi was meditating. But the scenery the Jedi was seeing was quite different. He was seeing the Force.
Different individuals internalized the idea of the Force in various ways. In this one's mind, there was wind. The Jedi saw calmer, slow breezes, quick wind eddies, far-away tempests. In his meditation, he floated along with its vast gales, letting it show him what it would. The Force often gave him visions in this wind-form, of places and people, images that could have present, the distant past, the far future. The Jedi didn't —
a sharp gust rocked him, suddenly swirling and roaring and whipping and —
She reached out into the life-current and seized the vibrating threads. All her anger, hate, her feeling of lack of control doubled over into a single thought. She wanted to hurt him. The Force responded in kind, changing from the calm current she had always known to a roiling, powerful current tangled in her grasp, reflecting back all of her emotions and a savage joy in its own strength. So THIS is the true power of the Force. An unfamiliar cruel grin appeared on her face as she reached out farther into the current, impressing her will on the Force. The threads tingled and snapped with energy, emotion and she felt an ice-fire rush of pure strength travel through her. She released it, using her will to reshape the universe as she saw fit. BOW. In a more detached part of her, she reflected that this savage fire-ice power was just as much in the nature of the Force as the calm nature she had been trained to use, albeit a side of which she hadn’t begun to understand the raw emotion-power of.
“Such hatred...You would have made an excellent Inquisitor,” he said in his deep, mechanical, implacable voice.
The Jedi released the memory. Or rather, the memory released him.
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