It was supposed to be another day of working as Watto demanded. Instead, he is swallowed by the sands and meets a wizard who calls himself a sorcerer and doesn't know who the Jedi are. Now, he has to make a choice.
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Anakin Skywalker : Sorcerer Supreme
- Thread starter Samael61
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Chapter 1 - Beneath the Sands
New
Samael61
Not too sore, are you?
- Joined
- Apr 6, 2025
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- 15,773
Hello there,
If you enjoy my stories, you can read up to 15 chapters in advance per story on my Patreon page / patreon.com/Samael61.
Anakin Skywalker is on the path to become one of the greatest figures on the galactic scene. If you want to read an original story of greatness, you can check my story, Arrival : Ruptures. Comments, likes and reviews are appreciated. Here are the links for : AO3, Spacebattles, Royal Road and Webnovel.
—
Tatooine
Mos Espa
In a galaxy far, far away, there lived a boy with special circumstances.
"Boy! Come with me. I found salvage in the desert," his owner, a grubby Toydarian named Watto, screamed.
Anakin followed wordlessly, wiping the lubricant on his hands onto a rag. His special circumstance was the slave tracking device implanted below his collarbone. Should he disobey or try to escape, one press of a button would kill him.
He got on the cargo landspeeder. The patched-together vehicle, something he had worked on for many years as far as he could remember, lumbered out of the junkyard. Whatever salvage Watto found in the sands must be valuable enough for the Toydarian to risk leaving Mos Espa's safety.
He crouched inside the cargo pod, safe from the sand and the twin suns to a degree.
He hated all of this. The sand, the heat, but most of all, being a slave.
He was broken out of his thoughts when the speeder stopped. "We are here. Be quick." He held on to the ledge, letting his feet touch the ground. He walked to Watto, inspecting the salvage. It was a freighter, Corellian by the looks of it, and in far better condition than most ships on Tatooine.
Half sticking out of the sands with the boarding ramp buried beneath, it must have come to the surface by sheer luck.
"See what we can take," Watto grumbled, activating the droids he had rented. The boy was too young to carry anything heavy. A prized mechanic like him was worth far more in good health than otherwise.
Anakin nodded, walking inside. The hyperspace driver, the engines, any weapons, and the shield generators—they were the most important parts. If any were in working or reparable condition, Watto would earn good.
He trudged through the sand to the bridge to see if the ship was in working condition. If it could be flown to the junkyard, even better.
A mound of sand was in his way. He couldn't go around it and had no choice but to clear it. Pushing the sand aside with his hands, he cleared it enough to walk over.
It proved to be a mistake.
His right foot touched the surface without a problem. When he raised his left to move forward, the pressure caused the sand beneath to give away. He sank halfway to his chest. He tried to pull himself out, but the only thing his short arms could reach was sand. He yelled Watto's name, asking for help.
"Boy, what is happening there?!" Watto came in, his wings allowing him to fly over the sand. He saw Anakin get swallowed by the sands, his large eyes widening. He rushed to save his slave, catching the boy's hands. He tried to pull him up, grunting, but he was not strong enough.
Then, his hands slipped.
The sweat gathered in the boy's calloused hands made Watto lose his grip. He flew back, out of control, and hit his head on the ceiling. His vision went dark for a couple of seconds. He shook his head, flying forward to catch the boy's arms again, which were the only parts visible. Just as he closed his fingers around Anakin's wrists, the sand sucked him in.
"No!" Watto slammed a fist on the sand. He tried to dig the mound, to hopefully save the boy, but it was of no use.
—
Anakin screamed.
He was sliding down with the sand through a hole. Sand flew into his mouth, cutting his screams. He gagged, trying to spit it out. He covered his face with his hands, shouting for his mom.
He did not see the open window in front of him.
He flew through the opening, hitting feet-first into a mound of sand. He blinked, screams stopping for a moment. He started again when more sand flew through the hole, burying the upper half of his body.
He pushed through, spluttering and blinking rapidly as sand got everywhere. He rubbed his eyes, stumbled around, and hit his head on a wall. He opened his bleary eyes, seeing a pair of legs in front of him.
Raising his head, he screamed at what he saw, turning around to run.
Only to hit his head again and pass out.
—
When he came to his senses, it was on soft ground. Softer than his bed, anyway. He quickly checked his body for any wounds. There was a cloth wrapped around his head, and trying to pull it hurt. His dress was gone, replaced with a black material, loose and just as soft as the bed.
The grime and dirt stuck on him were gone as well.
He looked around, trying to understand where he was. The walls of the room were wooden with a warm brown color. The furniture was of the same material, confusing him further.
Were these brought from another planet? Did that freighter have all this inside it?
He went for the door, waiting for it to slide open. When it did not, he pushed on it, trying to see if it was stuck. He reached for the large, oval button, pressing to see if it would open the door.
Once again, nothing happened.
Anakin scowled, wrapping his little fingers around the button, accidentally turning it to the side while pulling. The door clicked open, moving slightly inside the room. He scratched his head, wondering who used these kinds of doors.
He checked the outside. The corridor was built with more of that material. The lights were not electric, burning with something he could not see.
He had to find his way back to his mom.
Deciding to brave this unknown place, he left the room, walking through the hallways, seeking an exit.
"Hello there," a voice came, saying words he had never heard before. It wasn't basic or Huttese, an entirely foreign language. He turned around, stumbling back, and screamed again. The alien before him had multiple cracks going through his face and body, leaking a thick, dark liquid.
Anakin ran.
He found another room and dove in, hiding beneath covers on the bed. That person looked sick, like he was dead and had a third eye on his forehead.
He was hiding, thinking what his mother would do. When the door creaked open, he moved back to the edge of the bed, his back touching the wall. Only a hand came out of the door, laying a metal tray on the ground. He closed the door again and left.
He peeked his head out of the blanket, glancing at the tray. It was hot and steaming, with a small, red and golden mound in one part; thick, white-green slices of something in another; a mix of reds and greens in the last; and a packet with round orange objects painted on it.
His stomach grumbled.
Stuck between thinking whether this was one of the traps his mother mentioned and his hunger, Anakin waited. Ultimately, his stomach won. He left his hiding spot, tiptoeing to the tray in case the alien was waiting behind the door. Eyes on the door, he snatched the tray and walked back to his bed.
He took the fork, poking what looked like pale worms strung together. He brought the utensil on a single strand, cutting it to reveal non-fleshy bits. Deciding it was safe, he stabbed the mound with the fork. However, the strands were too thin.
Instead, he gently pushed the fork in and twirled it. The strands wrapped around the fork, and he took it to his mouth. When the taste exploded in his mouth, he groaned, eyes almost rolling to the back of his head.
This was the tastiest food he had ever eaten.
He dove into the dish, eating as if it would disappear any second. He was careless, however, and had a hard time swallowing the morsel. He slowed down, deciding to taste the other foods on the tray. The thick slices were crunchy and sweet, while the mix of red and greens was his least favorite. They were still better than most food he had eaten, though.
He took the packet into his hand, noticing a white, metallic spot and a see-through tube. He took the tube, which was just the size to fit the metallic circle. He pushed through, and it went in easily.
He took a sip.
An orange, really sweet liquid hit his tongue, burning it slightly. The taste was, once again, nothing like he ever ate before. He kept drinking, feeling the cold drink wash down his throat.
When the tray was empty and he felt his stomach fuller than any time before, he fell asleep.
—
He woke up to a strange feeling. The sound of Watto screaming at him to get to work wasn't here. Neither was his gentle nudging. He didn't feel hungry or tired.
He did not know how to describe it.
He looked at the door, seeing another tray laid out. This one had two white circles with orange parts in the middle, bright orange slices, what looked to be bread, and a red, thick paste and a large cup of water.
He didn't feel too hungry, but free food was free food.
—
Done with his breakfast, he set out to find the alien who had given him all that food. Certainly, no one who could hand out delicious food like that without asking something in return couldn't be bad.
He walked through the hallways once again. The owner seemed to be the only person in this house. He hung his head down, knowing a lot of families could be housed here.
The door at the end of the hallway opened. He got a clear look at the alien. He was surprisingly like a human, dressed in black clothing. He wore a robe over a tunic, kept together by sashes; black pants and boots; and an equally black cloak behind that seemed to be floating as if it were in zero gravity.
He had a mustache, a beard, and clean, short hair.
"Hello," the alien said, waving a hand.
Anakin waved back, but the words made no sense to him once more. "I don't understand," he said, hoping the alien might speak basic or Huttese. Instead, he tilted his head to the side.
The alien spoke again, this time in a clearly different language, before switching to others. He picked up at least seven or eight different languages, all of them sounding foreign to him. He watched the alien with a blank face. His host laid a hand on his short, neat beard, putting his fingers over his chest.
"Stephen Strange," he said, repeating it several times. He quickly caught on that the alien was introducing himself.
"Anakin Skywalker," he replied, pointing at himself.
The alien nodded, turning around and waving his hand. He followed, keeping a distance regardless. The alien took him to a place with shelves filled to the brim with paper books. He had seen several before, but never this many in one place.
His host walked to a certain shelf, searching for a book. He opened one in the middle, turning to him while reading through another language.
"He must be smart to know so much," he thought, tilting his head at what the alien was doing.
His eyes widened and he considered escaping when a golden circle appeared on the man's left hand while he continued to read. When the golden circle appeared over him, he tried to bat it away. His hands harmlessly passed through. Then, it suddenly flew at him.
He jumped on the ground, covering his head.
"Sorry for the scare, kid," the alien replied. Anakin raised his head, looking at the alien finally speaking a language he could understand.
"What did you do?" he asked, patting his body for any wounds.
"A simple translation spell."
"Spell? Like magic?" Was he a Jedi?! Did he somehow manage to get stuck beneath the sands?! Did the freighter belong to him?!
He was positively jumping on his place. He had always wanted to meet a Jedi. Maybe they had finally come to free the slaves.
"The correct term is sorcery, but yes. Have you seen any before?"
"No. I only heard the Jedi could do things like this."
Strange's brows creased. "The Jedi?"
Anakin's face fell. "They are heroes who carry laser swords. They can do magic too."
"I am afraid I never heard of them. Which country are they from?" Strange asked, stroking his beard.
"Country? Do you mean planet? They are from Coruscant."
"Wait, wait, back up." Strange raised a hand. "These Jedi are from another planet?"
"Yes?" How could he not know Coruscant? Everyone knew the capital of the Galactic Republic.
"How is that possible?" he asked after a moment.
"With hyperdrives. Everyone with enough credits can buy a ship and travel."
Strange knelt, putting both hands on his shoulders. "Anakin, which planet are we on right now?"
"In Tatooine, a desert world with two suns."
"Oh."
Doctor Strange's eyes became unfocused, and he fell silent.
—
Anakin's head hurt. Not from the pain of slamming it hard enough to knock himself out, but from everything Doctor Strange just told him.
He was from Earth, the planet where humans evolved. He did not know Tatooine or any of the planets and races he encountered. His explanation was confusing. Apparently, Doctor Strange was from another dimension. He had arrived on Tatooine by accident while trying to save his world.
He still believed he was under the sands of one of the deserts in his world.
He understood the different dimensions a bit from studying hyperdrives. What he did not understand was the idea of different universes. Strange was kind enough to take the time to explain.
It still was confusing.
"This explains so many things. I thought I would have been found by now. I had begun to lose hope. Only to know it was all for nothing," he said, rubbing his eyes. Anakin saw the same black liquid seeping from his wounds come out of his eyes too.
He realized the man was crying.
Whenever Anakin cried, his mother always made him feel better with a hug. Deciding to do as she did, he hugged Doctor Strange. The man froze for a second, feeling the short arms wrap halfway around him.
He gently patted the boy's back, letting his tears fall freely.
—
In Mos Espa, a slave owner had just broken the news to his last remaining slave. The woman's son was dead, swallowed by the sands. His slave tracking device had gone offline, which only happened if it was detonated or the wearer died.
He could not stand her cries and left her quarters to seek a new slave. The boy was a gifted mechanic, an expensive commodity. He was lucky enough to earn him and his mother from Gardulla in a bet.
The Hutt was sure enough to bet them, but not many would be. He would have to spend a lot of peggats to buy a new one.
At least he had managed to get the freighter working with the droids.
—
Notes: Here is the first chapter of Anakin Skywalker: Sorcerer Supreme.
I know him eating food from another universe would present gut issues, probably. To avoid having to write our first couple of chapters as a health emergency, I decided to skip that. For those who enjoy these details, you can think of it as a force intervening if you want.
As for the slave tracking device, Sanctum has defenses against technology, which stop the device from going off or letting Watto know Anakin is alive.
As there are two chapters, which I am posting right now, there won't be any advanced chapters on my Patreon until next Friday.
If you enjoy my stories, you can read up to 15 chapters in advance per story on my Patreon page / patreon.com/Samael61.
Anakin Skywalker is on the path to become one of the greatest figures on the galactic scene. If you want to read an original story of greatness, you can check my story, Arrival : Ruptures. Comments, likes and reviews are appreciated. Here are the links for : AO3, Spacebattles, Royal Road and Webnovel.
—
Tatooine
Mos Espa
In a galaxy far, far away, there lived a boy with special circumstances.
"Boy! Come with me. I found salvage in the desert," his owner, a grubby Toydarian named Watto, screamed.
Anakin followed wordlessly, wiping the lubricant on his hands onto a rag. His special circumstance was the slave tracking device implanted below his collarbone. Should he disobey or try to escape, one press of a button would kill him.
He got on the cargo landspeeder. The patched-together vehicle, something he had worked on for many years as far as he could remember, lumbered out of the junkyard. Whatever salvage Watto found in the sands must be valuable enough for the Toydarian to risk leaving Mos Espa's safety.
He crouched inside the cargo pod, safe from the sand and the twin suns to a degree.
He hated all of this. The sand, the heat, but most of all, being a slave.
He was broken out of his thoughts when the speeder stopped. "We are here. Be quick." He held on to the ledge, letting his feet touch the ground. He walked to Watto, inspecting the salvage. It was a freighter, Corellian by the looks of it, and in far better condition than most ships on Tatooine.
Half sticking out of the sands with the boarding ramp buried beneath, it must have come to the surface by sheer luck.
"See what we can take," Watto grumbled, activating the droids he had rented. The boy was too young to carry anything heavy. A prized mechanic like him was worth far more in good health than otherwise.
Anakin nodded, walking inside. The hyperspace driver, the engines, any weapons, and the shield generators—they were the most important parts. If any were in working or reparable condition, Watto would earn good.
He trudged through the sand to the bridge to see if the ship was in working condition. If it could be flown to the junkyard, even better.
A mound of sand was in his way. He couldn't go around it and had no choice but to clear it. Pushing the sand aside with his hands, he cleared it enough to walk over.
It proved to be a mistake.
His right foot touched the surface without a problem. When he raised his left to move forward, the pressure caused the sand beneath to give away. He sank halfway to his chest. He tried to pull himself out, but the only thing his short arms could reach was sand. He yelled Watto's name, asking for help.
"Boy, what is happening there?!" Watto came in, his wings allowing him to fly over the sand. He saw Anakin get swallowed by the sands, his large eyes widening. He rushed to save his slave, catching the boy's hands. He tried to pull him up, grunting, but he was not strong enough.
Then, his hands slipped.
The sweat gathered in the boy's calloused hands made Watto lose his grip. He flew back, out of control, and hit his head on the ceiling. His vision went dark for a couple of seconds. He shook his head, flying forward to catch the boy's arms again, which were the only parts visible. Just as he closed his fingers around Anakin's wrists, the sand sucked him in.
"No!" Watto slammed a fist on the sand. He tried to dig the mound, to hopefully save the boy, but it was of no use.
—
Anakin screamed.
He was sliding down with the sand through a hole. Sand flew into his mouth, cutting his screams. He gagged, trying to spit it out. He covered his face with his hands, shouting for his mom.
He did not see the open window in front of him.
He flew through the opening, hitting feet-first into a mound of sand. He blinked, screams stopping for a moment. He started again when more sand flew through the hole, burying the upper half of his body.
He pushed through, spluttering and blinking rapidly as sand got everywhere. He rubbed his eyes, stumbled around, and hit his head on a wall. He opened his bleary eyes, seeing a pair of legs in front of him.
Raising his head, he screamed at what he saw, turning around to run.
Only to hit his head again and pass out.
—
When he came to his senses, it was on soft ground. Softer than his bed, anyway. He quickly checked his body for any wounds. There was a cloth wrapped around his head, and trying to pull it hurt. His dress was gone, replaced with a black material, loose and just as soft as the bed.
The grime and dirt stuck on him were gone as well.
He looked around, trying to understand where he was. The walls of the room were wooden with a warm brown color. The furniture was of the same material, confusing him further.
Were these brought from another planet? Did that freighter have all this inside it?
He went for the door, waiting for it to slide open. When it did not, he pushed on it, trying to see if it was stuck. He reached for the large, oval button, pressing to see if it would open the door.
Once again, nothing happened.
Anakin scowled, wrapping his little fingers around the button, accidentally turning it to the side while pulling. The door clicked open, moving slightly inside the room. He scratched his head, wondering who used these kinds of doors.
He checked the outside. The corridor was built with more of that material. The lights were not electric, burning with something he could not see.
He had to find his way back to his mom.
Deciding to brave this unknown place, he left the room, walking through the hallways, seeking an exit.
"Hello there," a voice came, saying words he had never heard before. It wasn't basic or Huttese, an entirely foreign language. He turned around, stumbling back, and screamed again. The alien before him had multiple cracks going through his face and body, leaking a thick, dark liquid.
Anakin ran.
He found another room and dove in, hiding beneath covers on the bed. That person looked sick, like he was dead and had a third eye on his forehead.
He was hiding, thinking what his mother would do. When the door creaked open, he moved back to the edge of the bed, his back touching the wall. Only a hand came out of the door, laying a metal tray on the ground. He closed the door again and left.
He peeked his head out of the blanket, glancing at the tray. It was hot and steaming, with a small, red and golden mound in one part; thick, white-green slices of something in another; a mix of reds and greens in the last; and a packet with round orange objects painted on it.
His stomach grumbled.
Stuck between thinking whether this was one of the traps his mother mentioned and his hunger, Anakin waited. Ultimately, his stomach won. He left his hiding spot, tiptoeing to the tray in case the alien was waiting behind the door. Eyes on the door, he snatched the tray and walked back to his bed.
He took the fork, poking what looked like pale worms strung together. He brought the utensil on a single strand, cutting it to reveal non-fleshy bits. Deciding it was safe, he stabbed the mound with the fork. However, the strands were too thin.
Instead, he gently pushed the fork in and twirled it. The strands wrapped around the fork, and he took it to his mouth. When the taste exploded in his mouth, he groaned, eyes almost rolling to the back of his head.
This was the tastiest food he had ever eaten.
He dove into the dish, eating as if it would disappear any second. He was careless, however, and had a hard time swallowing the morsel. He slowed down, deciding to taste the other foods on the tray. The thick slices were crunchy and sweet, while the mix of red and greens was his least favorite. They were still better than most food he had eaten, though.
He took the packet into his hand, noticing a white, metallic spot and a see-through tube. He took the tube, which was just the size to fit the metallic circle. He pushed through, and it went in easily.
He took a sip.
An orange, really sweet liquid hit his tongue, burning it slightly. The taste was, once again, nothing like he ever ate before. He kept drinking, feeling the cold drink wash down his throat.
When the tray was empty and he felt his stomach fuller than any time before, he fell asleep.
—
He woke up to a strange feeling. The sound of Watto screaming at him to get to work wasn't here. Neither was his gentle nudging. He didn't feel hungry or tired.
He did not know how to describe it.
He looked at the door, seeing another tray laid out. This one had two white circles with orange parts in the middle, bright orange slices, what looked to be bread, and a red, thick paste and a large cup of water.
He didn't feel too hungry, but free food was free food.
—
Done with his breakfast, he set out to find the alien who had given him all that food. Certainly, no one who could hand out delicious food like that without asking something in return couldn't be bad.
He walked through the hallways once again. The owner seemed to be the only person in this house. He hung his head down, knowing a lot of families could be housed here.
The door at the end of the hallway opened. He got a clear look at the alien. He was surprisingly like a human, dressed in black clothing. He wore a robe over a tunic, kept together by sashes; black pants and boots; and an equally black cloak behind that seemed to be floating as if it were in zero gravity.
He had a mustache, a beard, and clean, short hair.
"Hello," the alien said, waving a hand.
Anakin waved back, but the words made no sense to him once more. "I don't understand," he said, hoping the alien might speak basic or Huttese. Instead, he tilted his head to the side.
The alien spoke again, this time in a clearly different language, before switching to others. He picked up at least seven or eight different languages, all of them sounding foreign to him. He watched the alien with a blank face. His host laid a hand on his short, neat beard, putting his fingers over his chest.
"Stephen Strange," he said, repeating it several times. He quickly caught on that the alien was introducing himself.
"Anakin Skywalker," he replied, pointing at himself.
The alien nodded, turning around and waving his hand. He followed, keeping a distance regardless. The alien took him to a place with shelves filled to the brim with paper books. He had seen several before, but never this many in one place.
His host walked to a certain shelf, searching for a book. He opened one in the middle, turning to him while reading through another language.
"He must be smart to know so much," he thought, tilting his head at what the alien was doing.
His eyes widened and he considered escaping when a golden circle appeared on the man's left hand while he continued to read. When the golden circle appeared over him, he tried to bat it away. His hands harmlessly passed through. Then, it suddenly flew at him.
He jumped on the ground, covering his head.
"Sorry for the scare, kid," the alien replied. Anakin raised his head, looking at the alien finally speaking a language he could understand.
"What did you do?" he asked, patting his body for any wounds.
"A simple translation spell."
"Spell? Like magic?" Was he a Jedi?! Did he somehow manage to get stuck beneath the sands?! Did the freighter belong to him?!
He was positively jumping on his place. He had always wanted to meet a Jedi. Maybe they had finally come to free the slaves.
"The correct term is sorcery, but yes. Have you seen any before?"
"No. I only heard the Jedi could do things like this."
Strange's brows creased. "The Jedi?"
Anakin's face fell. "They are heroes who carry laser swords. They can do magic too."
"I am afraid I never heard of them. Which country are they from?" Strange asked, stroking his beard.
"Country? Do you mean planet? They are from Coruscant."
"Wait, wait, back up." Strange raised a hand. "These Jedi are from another planet?"
"Yes?" How could he not know Coruscant? Everyone knew the capital of the Galactic Republic.
"How is that possible?" he asked after a moment.
"With hyperdrives. Everyone with enough credits can buy a ship and travel."
Strange knelt, putting both hands on his shoulders. "Anakin, which planet are we on right now?"
"In Tatooine, a desert world with two suns."
"Oh."
Doctor Strange's eyes became unfocused, and he fell silent.
—
Anakin's head hurt. Not from the pain of slamming it hard enough to knock himself out, but from everything Doctor Strange just told him.
He was from Earth, the planet where humans evolved. He did not know Tatooine or any of the planets and races he encountered. His explanation was confusing. Apparently, Doctor Strange was from another dimension. He had arrived on Tatooine by accident while trying to save his world.
He still believed he was under the sands of one of the deserts in his world.
He understood the different dimensions a bit from studying hyperdrives. What he did not understand was the idea of different universes. Strange was kind enough to take the time to explain.
It still was confusing.
"This explains so many things. I thought I would have been found by now. I had begun to lose hope. Only to know it was all for nothing," he said, rubbing his eyes. Anakin saw the same black liquid seeping from his wounds come out of his eyes too.
He realized the man was crying.
Whenever Anakin cried, his mother always made him feel better with a hug. Deciding to do as she did, he hugged Doctor Strange. The man froze for a second, feeling the short arms wrap halfway around him.
He gently patted the boy's back, letting his tears fall freely.
—
In Mos Espa, a slave owner had just broken the news to his last remaining slave. The woman's son was dead, swallowed by the sands. His slave tracking device had gone offline, which only happened if it was detonated or the wearer died.
He could not stand her cries and left her quarters to seek a new slave. The boy was a gifted mechanic, an expensive commodity. He was lucky enough to earn him and his mother from Gardulla in a bet.
The Hutt was sure enough to bet them, but not many would be. He would have to spend a lot of peggats to buy a new one.
At least he had managed to get the freighter working with the droids.
—
Notes: Here is the first chapter of Anakin Skywalker: Sorcerer Supreme.
I know him eating food from another universe would present gut issues, probably. To avoid having to write our first couple of chapters as a health emergency, I decided to skip that. For those who enjoy these details, you can think of it as a force intervening if you want.
As for the slave tracking device, Sanctum has defenses against technology, which stop the device from going off or letting Watto know Anakin is alive.
As there are two chapters, which I am posting right now, there won't be any advanced chapters on my Patreon until next Friday.
Chapter 2 - Glimpse
New
Samael61
Not too sore, are you?
- Joined
- Apr 6, 2025
- Messages
- 332
- Likes received
- 15,773
Hello there,
If you enjoy my stories, you can read up to 15 chapters in advance per story on my Patreon page / patreon.com/Samael61.
Anakin Skywalker is on the path to become one of the greatest figures on the galactic scene. If you want to read an original story of greatness, you can check my story, Arrival : Ruptures. Comments, likes and reviews are appreciated. Here are the links for : AO3, Spacebattles, Royal Road and Webnovel.
—
Tatooine
"Sorry about that. It must be weird to have a grown man cry like this," he said, pulling a handkerchief out of his pocket to wipe the black tears.
"It's fine. Mom says crying is good."
Strange smiled. "She sounds like a smart woman."
"She is."
"What about your dad?" he asked. The kid was malnourished. A desert planet with two suns would make finding food difficult for anyone not well off, more so for a single mother.
Anakin shrugged. "I don't have one."
"Where do you live on Tatooine?"
"Mos Espa. It is the largest city. I…work at a junkyard," Anakin said.
"You are, what, five years old? Why are you working in a junkyard, or anywhere for that matter?" Was food so scarce that even he had to work?
"I don't have a choice," he whispered, lowering his head.
Strange knelt, facing Anakin on an even level. "Can you repeat that?"
"I don't have a choice."
"Why not? Is someone forcing you to?" He had told Anakin much about Earth but did not have the time to learn as much about Tatooine. He did not like how the kid hesitated to speak about it.
"Yeah."
"And I assume you can't speak to the authorities?"
"No."
He slowly put his hand on the boy's shoulder. "Anakin, I have a feeling it is something you don't wish to speak about. However, I can help. I was called Sorcerer Supreme back on my planet. I might be bound to the Sanctum, but there are a lot of things I can do to help you."
"Again, if you don't wish to speak, I understand," he added. It was best not to push him and force the kid to withdraw.
"The junkyard's owner, Watto, is also our owner."
He froze, accidentally squeezing Anakin's small shoulder. "Owner? Are you telling me slavery is allowed in this world?"
What kind of universe had he landed in?
Anakin nodded, almost imperceptibly.
"Is there no legitimate government? How could this be allowed?" How could a Galactic Republic—if the spell translated correctly—allow slavery to exist?
"The Hutts rule the outer rim. What they say goes. They allow slavery, and nobody crosses them," he muttered. His following explanation made Strange realize the Sanctum had landed on the corner of a galaxy ruled by gangsters.
"I need to go back," he muttered, looking at the cave system for an exit.
"Anakin, I understand you are worried for your mother. But I think she would prefer you away from her if it meant you would be free." In a similar situation, he would have done exactly that.
Anakin was lucky to get away. The hole he had fallen through was one he'd opened to let fresh air reach the cavern. A couple more days, he would have closed it.
"I know." He rubbed his left arm, looking away. "It's just that I have a device in my body. If I go too far from Watto, he can detonate it and kill me."
He closed his eyes, swearing inside. Not only was slavery allowed in this world, but they also put bombs inside people? If only he could leave the Sanctum, there would be hell to pay. "You don't have to worry. The Sanctum has defenses against technology. No signal can enter here or leave."
"Really?" Anakin's eyes shone. The only reason he thought Watto hadn't killed him yet was because he didn't know there was a house beneath the sands.
"Yes."
"But my mom…" he began, thinking about her. As long as he knew, they only had each other. He didn't want to leave her.
"There is a way to bring her here, but only you can do it."
"How?"
"Come with me; I'll show you."
—
Dr. Strange took him to an outside area.
He froze upon seeing the ceiling. He gazed at a blue sky with clouds and only one sun. The rest of the cave was wide, with thick columns keeping it from collapsing. Watto had taken him to salvage ships before. He knew there was no opening like this in the sands.
"Where are we?" he breathed out, watching the sky. It was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.
"A small training ground. I got bored of being inside all the time and made this small place."
"But the sky?"
Strange grinned, happy to see the wonder in the kid's eyes. "It is an illusion, something I did for the sake of my mental health."
Staring at a bleary ceiling or working all day on the small farm he'd built had eventually burned him out. He had created a little heaven like this to preserve his sanity.
"Wizard!"
"Watch closely," Strange said. He spread his feet, holding his left hand forward while the right was half an arm behind. He began to move his right hand in a circle. Golden sparks appeared out of nowhere, settling into a large circle.
Anakin's jaw fell.
Inside the golden circle, he could see the room he had slept in. Dr. Strange reached for the table where he had left the tray. He took it, closed the circle, and opened another one. The next destination seemed to be the kitchen. Strange deposited the tray and closed the circle.
"This is a portal we, the Masters of the Mystical Arts, can open. I'll skip the details for now, but as long as you can virtualize the destination, you can open a portal to anywhere."
Anakin was quick to connect the dots. "Anywhere? Like our house with Mom?"
"Yes. As I said, I am bound to the Sanctum and a certain area around it. I can't open portals outside these boundaries."
"Oh."
"You can learn and open them, though."
"I can?"
"Anyone who is willing to put in the work, along with a bit of talent, can learn."
"Since you're so young, I'll only teach you how to open portals. Otherwise, you might get hurt." There was nothing he ever heard about children so young being allowed to train in the mystical arts.
"I am seven."
"Seven? You certainly don't show it, no offense," he said, wincing as he realized how that sounded.
"I know."
"At any rate, rest for now and eat. I know your mother must be worried, but once you gather strength, we can begin the lessons."
"Okay, Dr. Strange, sir."
"When I am your teacher, call me Master Strange. Otherwise, no need to call me sir."
—
He lay on his bed, staring blankly at the ceiling.
He was in a whole other dimension, away from his friends, away from the Masters of the Mystical Arts, and from his duties of protecting Earth. Without their greatest defense against Dormammu, the Time Stone, he had to use the Darkhold to save the Sanctum. He only hoped it had succeeded.
He thought of how to return home.
His soul was shackled to the Sanctum and a certain area around it. He could not move past the boundary, physically or otherwise. He couldn't open a portal home, even if he discovered how.
The only path for him was to move the entire Sanctum back.
Yet, how was he supposed to find Earth when he had been marooned in a galaxy that did not know it? It could be forgotten or, just as equally possible, never have existed. He was so far from home; he had no idea how to locate his specific dimension.
At least he had something to work towards, besides helping Anakin.
In the meantime, he would help Anakin free his mother, and if there was time, end slavery on this planet.
—
"Master Strange, where do you get all this food?" Anakin asked as they were eating breakfast.
Could sorcery create food too?
"The Sanctum had all the necessary materials in storage for farming should there be issues. Soil, seeds, eggs, fertilizer. I wasn't going anywhere and started to learn how to farm to keep myself fed. I'll show it to you later if you want," Strange offered with a smile. The small farm and orchard kept his mind off his circumstances. It was not something he had ever seen himself do, but it was a surprisingly calming experience.
And convenient with sorcery.
"Thank you."
"You mentioned aliens before. How many are there?" Strange asked. He had met several aliens back on Earth. He wagered living on a planet teeming with them couldn't compare.
"Hundreds."
Strange stopped, the gnocchi almost sliding off his fork.
"Didn't you have aliens in your world?" Anakin asked.
"We were aware they existed, but Earth was far from achieving space travel. We didn't have regular contact, except for the Asgardians."
There was a lull in conversation as he considered the situation on the surface. Gangsters, aliens, space travel, and a whole galaxy out there.
"Try to eat slowly. You will get a stomach ache otherwise," he said to Anakin. The boy had good table manners, most likely thanks to his mother, but he was inhaling the food. He couldn't blame him, knowing what he had gone through so far.
"Sorry."
"Don't be."
"We'll have to adjust more clothes for you. I'll also show you the showers. There aren't many cleaning products, but the water gets recycled by sorcery; feel free to use as much water as you want."
"Shower with water?"
"Right, I forgot. I assume water is expensive up there?" Perhaps he could use sorcery to find water and have Anakin sell it once he discovered a way to get that device out of him. There would no doubt be plenty of interesting things to buy.
"It is. Mom just wipes us both with sponges."
"I guarantee you, nothing beats a warm shower."
"Wait, how did you clean me when I came here first?" Anakin asked after a moment. He would have woken up if he were being washed with water.
"With sorcery, of course," he said. He waved his hand over the empty plates. A golden wave passed over, and they were all spotless. He then levitated them to the correct places in the cabinet, all without leaving his seat.
It was nothing like the portals, but still pretty wicked, and he couldn't wait. "When can I start to learn?"
"Here is a short lesson. We draw energy from different dimensions to do what we do. It doesn't affect adults in any bad way. I don't know if it would affect a child, though. Until I figure it out, you will have to wait."
A developed mind was necessary for sorcery. He didn't know if the same went for the body but would not take chances. Yet, they had to hurry, because who knew what Anakin's mother would do if she thought her owner's carelessness had led to her son's death?
"I know it is not what you want to hear, but patience is important," he said, seeing Anakin frown.
—
He spent the next few days learning about his new student-hopeful. Anakin was way smarter than his age would indicate. He had worked as a mechanic in the junkyard, assembling and disassembling extremely advanced machines.
Exactly the kind of talent Tony Stark would appreciate.
His mother had taught him not to show his true feelings so easily from a young age. In an environment where he did not have to fear reprisal, Anakin was quick to let his fury at slavery be known.
It would be a dangerous weakness to have. He would have to help the boy curb it.
He was born into slavery, and his mother had never talked about his father. Their previous owner was Gardulla the Hutt. He had come to learn they were basically giant, sapient slugs, all known to be criminals. Watto, the owner of the junkyard, had won them from Gardulla in a bet.
Watto was a Toydarian, a bug-like species with wings that actually allowed them to fly. He was better than Gardulla, who enjoyed treating her slaves like toys to be broken, but he still was a slaver.
In return, he mentioned his home and his past as a surgeon who had sought to learn the mystical arts as a last resort after an accident damaged his hands. He mentioned Tony Stark, the genius playboy billionaire. He had even gone as far as to create illusions of Iron Man, allowing Anakin to watch how the genius fought with his armor.
The boy was mesmerized.
He combed the library for any records of a child being trained, of which there were none. The subject was never discussed among the masters of the mystical arts. Given no one would even think about training a child, it was to be expected.
Two weeks after they had met and once Anakin had put on some weight, he decided to test the boy. He would guide him every step of the way. If the dimensional energies somehow harmed him, he would intervene.
He felt for Anakin but would not let him try to save his mother at the cost of his own life.
—
"This is a sling ring," he said, putting the metal band over Anakin's fingers.
"It allows us to open portals and access other dimensions."
"I am going to give you a little push so you know what to look for, okay? It might be a bit scary, but everything will be fine."
He knelt, laying his thumb on Anakin's forehead and the remaining fingers on the left side of his head.
Anakin screamed as he went off flying.
He crashed through the ceiling of the Sanctum, going through the desert. Each sand grain grew in size until he stood smaller than them. He stopped, floating, screams of terror turning lighter. He smiled and was flying once more.
He traveled through the sky, leaving Tatooine in seconds, seeing the twin suns glare at him. He flew to the stars, and the space before him bent. The suns stretched, becoming one, going through a multitude of colors, and finally transformed into a black hole.
He felt himself stretch this time, still shrieking with a smile, and the next thing he knew he was back in the Sanctum.
"That was great!" he shouted, startling Strange.
"It is?" He certainly hadn't thought so when the Ancient One used this little trick on him.
"Yeah. The sand grains became so pretty, then the sun turned into a black hole. I saw a lot of Tatooines bend around it."
"That was the Astral Plane. You took a short trip."
"Can we do it again?"
"Perhaps once you learn it yourself. How do you feel? Any discomfort, pain, weird sensations?"
"No, I am fine," Anakin said, checking himself for anything out of the ordinary.
Strange was monitoring Anakin's soul but saw no reason to interfere. It did not seem to affect the boy adversely at all.
"Once you master the mystic arts, you'll be able to do that and much more. Are you ready?"
"Yes, Master Strange," Anakin cheered, giving a slight bow as if it was an afterthought.
His lips curled upwards at the enthusiasm. This kid certainly would be an interesting one to teach.
Notes : As there are two chapters, which I am posting right now, there won't be any advanced chapters on my Patreon until next Friday.
If you enjoy my stories, you can read up to 15 chapters in advance per story on my Patreon page / patreon.com/Samael61.
Anakin Skywalker is on the path to become one of the greatest figures on the galactic scene. If you want to read an original story of greatness, you can check my story, Arrival : Ruptures. Comments, likes and reviews are appreciated. Here are the links for : AO3, Spacebattles, Royal Road and Webnovel.
—
Tatooine
"Sorry about that. It must be weird to have a grown man cry like this," he said, pulling a handkerchief out of his pocket to wipe the black tears.
"It's fine. Mom says crying is good."
Strange smiled. "She sounds like a smart woman."
"She is."
"What about your dad?" he asked. The kid was malnourished. A desert planet with two suns would make finding food difficult for anyone not well off, more so for a single mother.
Anakin shrugged. "I don't have one."
"Where do you live on Tatooine?"
"Mos Espa. It is the largest city. I…work at a junkyard," Anakin said.
"You are, what, five years old? Why are you working in a junkyard, or anywhere for that matter?" Was food so scarce that even he had to work?
"I don't have a choice," he whispered, lowering his head.
Strange knelt, facing Anakin on an even level. "Can you repeat that?"
"I don't have a choice."
"Why not? Is someone forcing you to?" He had told Anakin much about Earth but did not have the time to learn as much about Tatooine. He did not like how the kid hesitated to speak about it.
"Yeah."
"And I assume you can't speak to the authorities?"
"No."
He slowly put his hand on the boy's shoulder. "Anakin, I have a feeling it is something you don't wish to speak about. However, I can help. I was called Sorcerer Supreme back on my planet. I might be bound to the Sanctum, but there are a lot of things I can do to help you."
"Again, if you don't wish to speak, I understand," he added. It was best not to push him and force the kid to withdraw.
"The junkyard's owner, Watto, is also our owner."
He froze, accidentally squeezing Anakin's small shoulder. "Owner? Are you telling me slavery is allowed in this world?"
What kind of universe had he landed in?
Anakin nodded, almost imperceptibly.
"Is there no legitimate government? How could this be allowed?" How could a Galactic Republic—if the spell translated correctly—allow slavery to exist?
"The Hutts rule the outer rim. What they say goes. They allow slavery, and nobody crosses them," he muttered. His following explanation made Strange realize the Sanctum had landed on the corner of a galaxy ruled by gangsters.
"I need to go back," he muttered, looking at the cave system for an exit.
"Anakin, I understand you are worried for your mother. But I think she would prefer you away from her if it meant you would be free." In a similar situation, he would have done exactly that.
Anakin was lucky to get away. The hole he had fallen through was one he'd opened to let fresh air reach the cavern. A couple more days, he would have closed it.
"I know." He rubbed his left arm, looking away. "It's just that I have a device in my body. If I go too far from Watto, he can detonate it and kill me."
He closed his eyes, swearing inside. Not only was slavery allowed in this world, but they also put bombs inside people? If only he could leave the Sanctum, there would be hell to pay. "You don't have to worry. The Sanctum has defenses against technology. No signal can enter here or leave."
"Really?" Anakin's eyes shone. The only reason he thought Watto hadn't killed him yet was because he didn't know there was a house beneath the sands.
"Yes."
"But my mom…" he began, thinking about her. As long as he knew, they only had each other. He didn't want to leave her.
"There is a way to bring her here, but only you can do it."
"How?"
"Come with me; I'll show you."
—
Dr. Strange took him to an outside area.
He froze upon seeing the ceiling. He gazed at a blue sky with clouds and only one sun. The rest of the cave was wide, with thick columns keeping it from collapsing. Watto had taken him to salvage ships before. He knew there was no opening like this in the sands.
"Where are we?" he breathed out, watching the sky. It was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.
"A small training ground. I got bored of being inside all the time and made this small place."
"But the sky?"
Strange grinned, happy to see the wonder in the kid's eyes. "It is an illusion, something I did for the sake of my mental health."
Staring at a bleary ceiling or working all day on the small farm he'd built had eventually burned him out. He had created a little heaven like this to preserve his sanity.
"Wizard!"
"Watch closely," Strange said. He spread his feet, holding his left hand forward while the right was half an arm behind. He began to move his right hand in a circle. Golden sparks appeared out of nowhere, settling into a large circle.
Anakin's jaw fell.
Inside the golden circle, he could see the room he had slept in. Dr. Strange reached for the table where he had left the tray. He took it, closed the circle, and opened another one. The next destination seemed to be the kitchen. Strange deposited the tray and closed the circle.
"This is a portal we, the Masters of the Mystical Arts, can open. I'll skip the details for now, but as long as you can virtualize the destination, you can open a portal to anywhere."
Anakin was quick to connect the dots. "Anywhere? Like our house with Mom?"
"Yes. As I said, I am bound to the Sanctum and a certain area around it. I can't open portals outside these boundaries."
"Oh."
"You can learn and open them, though."
"I can?"
"Anyone who is willing to put in the work, along with a bit of talent, can learn."
"Since you're so young, I'll only teach you how to open portals. Otherwise, you might get hurt." There was nothing he ever heard about children so young being allowed to train in the mystical arts.
"I am seven."
"Seven? You certainly don't show it, no offense," he said, wincing as he realized how that sounded.
"I know."
"At any rate, rest for now and eat. I know your mother must be worried, but once you gather strength, we can begin the lessons."
"Okay, Dr. Strange, sir."
"When I am your teacher, call me Master Strange. Otherwise, no need to call me sir."
—
He lay on his bed, staring blankly at the ceiling.
He was in a whole other dimension, away from his friends, away from the Masters of the Mystical Arts, and from his duties of protecting Earth. Without their greatest defense against Dormammu, the Time Stone, he had to use the Darkhold to save the Sanctum. He only hoped it had succeeded.
He thought of how to return home.
His soul was shackled to the Sanctum and a certain area around it. He could not move past the boundary, physically or otherwise. He couldn't open a portal home, even if he discovered how.
The only path for him was to move the entire Sanctum back.
Yet, how was he supposed to find Earth when he had been marooned in a galaxy that did not know it? It could be forgotten or, just as equally possible, never have existed. He was so far from home; he had no idea how to locate his specific dimension.
At least he had something to work towards, besides helping Anakin.
In the meantime, he would help Anakin free his mother, and if there was time, end slavery on this planet.
—
"Master Strange, where do you get all this food?" Anakin asked as they were eating breakfast.
Could sorcery create food too?
"The Sanctum had all the necessary materials in storage for farming should there be issues. Soil, seeds, eggs, fertilizer. I wasn't going anywhere and started to learn how to farm to keep myself fed. I'll show it to you later if you want," Strange offered with a smile. The small farm and orchard kept his mind off his circumstances. It was not something he had ever seen himself do, but it was a surprisingly calming experience.
And convenient with sorcery.
"Thank you."
"You mentioned aliens before. How many are there?" Strange asked. He had met several aliens back on Earth. He wagered living on a planet teeming with them couldn't compare.
"Hundreds."
Strange stopped, the gnocchi almost sliding off his fork.
"Didn't you have aliens in your world?" Anakin asked.
"We were aware they existed, but Earth was far from achieving space travel. We didn't have regular contact, except for the Asgardians."
There was a lull in conversation as he considered the situation on the surface. Gangsters, aliens, space travel, and a whole galaxy out there.
"Try to eat slowly. You will get a stomach ache otherwise," he said to Anakin. The boy had good table manners, most likely thanks to his mother, but he was inhaling the food. He couldn't blame him, knowing what he had gone through so far.
"Sorry."
"Don't be."
"We'll have to adjust more clothes for you. I'll also show you the showers. There aren't many cleaning products, but the water gets recycled by sorcery; feel free to use as much water as you want."
"Shower with water?"
"Right, I forgot. I assume water is expensive up there?" Perhaps he could use sorcery to find water and have Anakin sell it once he discovered a way to get that device out of him. There would no doubt be plenty of interesting things to buy.
"It is. Mom just wipes us both with sponges."
"I guarantee you, nothing beats a warm shower."
"Wait, how did you clean me when I came here first?" Anakin asked after a moment. He would have woken up if he were being washed with water.
"With sorcery, of course," he said. He waved his hand over the empty plates. A golden wave passed over, and they were all spotless. He then levitated them to the correct places in the cabinet, all without leaving his seat.
It was nothing like the portals, but still pretty wicked, and he couldn't wait. "When can I start to learn?"
"Here is a short lesson. We draw energy from different dimensions to do what we do. It doesn't affect adults in any bad way. I don't know if it would affect a child, though. Until I figure it out, you will have to wait."
A developed mind was necessary for sorcery. He didn't know if the same went for the body but would not take chances. Yet, they had to hurry, because who knew what Anakin's mother would do if she thought her owner's carelessness had led to her son's death?
"I know it is not what you want to hear, but patience is important," he said, seeing Anakin frown.
—
He spent the next few days learning about his new student-hopeful. Anakin was way smarter than his age would indicate. He had worked as a mechanic in the junkyard, assembling and disassembling extremely advanced machines.
Exactly the kind of talent Tony Stark would appreciate.
His mother had taught him not to show his true feelings so easily from a young age. In an environment where he did not have to fear reprisal, Anakin was quick to let his fury at slavery be known.
It would be a dangerous weakness to have. He would have to help the boy curb it.
He was born into slavery, and his mother had never talked about his father. Their previous owner was Gardulla the Hutt. He had come to learn they were basically giant, sapient slugs, all known to be criminals. Watto, the owner of the junkyard, had won them from Gardulla in a bet.
Watto was a Toydarian, a bug-like species with wings that actually allowed them to fly. He was better than Gardulla, who enjoyed treating her slaves like toys to be broken, but he still was a slaver.
In return, he mentioned his home and his past as a surgeon who had sought to learn the mystical arts as a last resort after an accident damaged his hands. He mentioned Tony Stark, the genius playboy billionaire. He had even gone as far as to create illusions of Iron Man, allowing Anakin to watch how the genius fought with his armor.
The boy was mesmerized.
He combed the library for any records of a child being trained, of which there were none. The subject was never discussed among the masters of the mystical arts. Given no one would even think about training a child, it was to be expected.
Two weeks after they had met and once Anakin had put on some weight, he decided to test the boy. He would guide him every step of the way. If the dimensional energies somehow harmed him, he would intervene.
He felt for Anakin but would not let him try to save his mother at the cost of his own life.
—
"This is a sling ring," he said, putting the metal band over Anakin's fingers.
"It allows us to open portals and access other dimensions."
"I am going to give you a little push so you know what to look for, okay? It might be a bit scary, but everything will be fine."
He knelt, laying his thumb on Anakin's forehead and the remaining fingers on the left side of his head.
Anakin screamed as he went off flying.
He crashed through the ceiling of the Sanctum, going through the desert. Each sand grain grew in size until he stood smaller than them. He stopped, floating, screams of terror turning lighter. He smiled and was flying once more.
He traveled through the sky, leaving Tatooine in seconds, seeing the twin suns glare at him. He flew to the stars, and the space before him bent. The suns stretched, becoming one, going through a multitude of colors, and finally transformed into a black hole.
He felt himself stretch this time, still shrieking with a smile, and the next thing he knew he was back in the Sanctum.
"That was great!" he shouted, startling Strange.
"It is?" He certainly hadn't thought so when the Ancient One used this little trick on him.
"Yeah. The sand grains became so pretty, then the sun turned into a black hole. I saw a lot of Tatooines bend around it."
"That was the Astral Plane. You took a short trip."
"Can we do it again?"
"Perhaps once you learn it yourself. How do you feel? Any discomfort, pain, weird sensations?"
"No, I am fine," Anakin said, checking himself for anything out of the ordinary.
Strange was monitoring Anakin's soul but saw no reason to interfere. It did not seem to affect the boy adversely at all.
"Once you master the mystic arts, you'll be able to do that and much more. Are you ready?"
"Yes, Master Strange," Anakin cheered, giving a slight bow as if it was an afterthought.
His lips curled upwards at the enthusiasm. This kid certainly would be an interesting one to teach.
Notes : As there are two chapters, which I am posting right now, there won't be any advanced chapters on my Patreon until next Friday.
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