Chapter 88

                                    

                                          
The world seems empty. Everything around me is a blinding, saturated white. There is no visible ground for me to walk on, nor is there any sign of life. The plain can only be described as one thing; nothingness.
                          
Wherever I am doesn't feel evil, rather surrounded by the light side of the Force. I know I'm dreaming; I must be. The thing is, my reasoning for being here feels planned. Dream or not, this is where I am needed.
                          
I allow myself to walk into the endless, white terrain, knowing that there's something here I need to see. My mind has been taken away from the painful visions I've been experiencing for a reason.
                          
"(Y/N)," A voice echoes through space. 
                          
I stop walking and begin scanning my surroundings. There's nothing here; at least not that I can see. 
                          
"(Y/N)," The voice says again, only this time more clearly. 
                          
I didn't immediately realise it, but I know this voice. The soft, feminine tone is one I could never easily forget. Words spoken by this ghost of my past still haunt me to this day. 
                          
A familiar, ethereal figure appears before me. Her long, flowing green hair contrasts against her porcelain skin the way I remembered it to. It's the Daughter from Mortis, and she seems to be physically in my mind. 
                          
"This isn't possible," I mutter, feeling overwhelmed by her sudden presence.
                          
I witnessed the death of the Daughter on Mortis. Anakin and I transferred what remained of her life force to a dying Ahsoka. Any hope of the Daughter's resurrection was lost when the entire structure blew out of existence. Her power should be gone, meaning there is no way for her to be inside my head. 
                          
The Daughter firmly grabs hold of my wrists and looks directly into my eyes. Fear fills the compassionate eyes she possesses, which is incredibly uncharacteristic for her. She's desperate to get through to me, only I don't understand why. 
                          
"Open your mind!" She shouts. 
                          
I awake in a panicked state, feeling utterly overwhelmed by what I saw. The Daughter is dead; as is the Father and the Son. I watched all of them die on Mortis as a result of the corruption of the dark side. 
                          
If what I saw felt like a strange dream, I would be okay. The problem is, it felt real. I could swear the Daughter was actually inside my head, desperate to tell me something. 
                          
Whatever I saw, I need to forget about it. There's too much pressure on Anakin at this point, and a bizarre dream about the Daughter is not something that needs to be added to the never-ending list. 
                          
I lean over to his side of the bed and gently push the long, messy hair off of Anakin's forehead. His hair feels sweaty, indicating that he must have had another nightmare last night. I feel bad that I was too deep in my own dream to be able to wake him from his.
                          
The first nightmare we had regarding the outcome of my pregnancy was shared. We were in the same plane of dreaming and somehow managed to experience everything together. Whenever we experience these dreams now, we're separated. 
                          
The strangest development in it all is that Anakin is experiencing more visions than me. They seem to be stronger for him, and even more cruel than the first. I wish I could take the burden away from us both. The period leading to the birth of our children should be a happy time, yet it is being plagued by misery. 
                          
I lower my head and plant a soft, delicate kiss on his forehead. His dreams may be sad and painful, but I will do everything I can to keep his reality pure and hopeful.