Anakin Skywalker : Sorcerer Supreme

[Zetsway]

Odd that Strange went straight to "Call me Master when I am teaching you" despite just learning Anakin was a slave.

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I'm a bit late to the party, but this whole 'master=trauma' is fanon. Anakin never called Watto 'master'. He refered to him by name, and when he would tell anyone that he was a slave, he would say that he was owned by not that Watto was his master. Basically, the word means nothing to Anakin, especially since he now associates it with Teacher(same as in canon)

 

[Samael61]

Hello there,

If you enjoy this story, you can read 5 chapters in advance 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.

Double post today in honor of releasing more than twenty chapters of Arrival : Ruptures, along with the pilot chapter.

—
​

Tatooine

Mos Espa

29 BBY

He glared at the slavers.

He was traveling through Mos Espa at night in his astral form. A group of pirates had brought a dozen people, all in chains and shock collars. They were being marched to a warehouse to be kept until tomorrow. They would be chipped as soon as possible, which would make rescuing them impossible.

Though, he had no idea how to save them now. He didn't want to expose the Mystic Arts but he didn't want to leave these people like this either. He began to think, considering what he could do.

No matter how much he hated to admit it, he could not find all these Weequays off. But maybe he didn't need to.

—
​

Sanctum Sanctorum

He returned to his body, leaving his bed and dressing. He sneaked into the artifact room, standing before the glass casing. "Hey, I need your help," he said. Whenever his master didn't wear the Cloak of Levitation, the sentient cloth was left hanging in the artifact room.

The cloak did not respond, swishing even though there was no wind. "We are going to free slaves."

It stirred, leaving the wooden stand standing before him. Anakin didn't know what it was thinking, or even if it was intelligent enough to weigh his words like a human. They stood still in the silence, waiting.

The Cloak moved, wrapping itself around his shoulders, folding to fit his small frame and creating a hood. He grinned in the darkness, opening a portal.

—
​

Mos Espa

He landed on top of the warehouse, already having memorized the important locations, such as the security room. He started to walk to the edge of the roof. The Cloak must have read his intentions as he began to float forward. He almost let out a sound in surprise, slapping his hands on his mouth.

The Weequays in the security room were awake, playing Sabacc. The guards patrolling the warehouse He couldn't open a portal without being caught. He had to sneak in the usual way.

He climbed inside the vent, floating since it would not support his weight. He stood over a grate, seeing a Weequay beneath, leaning on a wall, smoking something. He closed his eyes, focusing on the mental map he had created. There were only six cameras in total since the warehouse wasn't used much.

None had the alien in its line of sight.

He waved his hands, slow and careful to not hit the metal walls. A portal opened beneath the pirate's feet. He fell through with a short scream, flailing in the air.

He couldn't fight the pirates himself, but gravity would do the job. He closed the portal before having to see the Weequay turn to a paste on the ground. He opened the grate, squeezing through, floating close to the ceiling. One right and one left, he stood before the security door, considering how to get in.

There were four pirates inside, still awake despite the sounds of laughter.

He tried to think of a way to enter without arousing suspicion. He could not come up with an answer, but an answer came for him. Another Weequay walked in, opening the door for him. In the darkness, covered by the cloak, he sneaked in just as the door closed.

Four of the pirates were sitting around the table, continuing their game, while the fifth one went to get a drink. He waited, peeking, listening. When the fifth one sat at the table, another one got up.

His patience wore thin as the minutes passed by.

One member always got up for one reason or another, and the group never sat together. He considered opening a portal beneath the four while disposing of the fifth another way. It proved to be unnecessary as the last member came close, standing behind another.

He opened the portal without a delay.

The ones sitting fell through easily, plummeting to their deaths. The one standing, however, managed to hold on to the floor, calling for help while trying to pull himself up.

He landed, walking up to the pirate. His hand reached out, begging for help. Anakin raised his foot, slamming it on the gray alien's fingers, forcing him down. He closed the portal with a smirk, turning his attention to the security feed.

Six cameras, twenty-two pirates in total, and he had already gotten rid of six, leaving only sixteen. Ten were in sight of the cameras, which meant they were in his sight.

One by one, he sent them to their deaths, opening portals beneath their feet to the middle of the desert just as they entered through a door or turned a corner. Once the coast was clear, he took a deep breath. He would have to deal with the ones outside as well.

Checking the terminal, he found the pirates had a security alert tied to every member's comlink. He could bring them all inside, but they would be on guard.

Maybe he could gather them in one place.

The cell they kept the slaves wasn't the only one. There was another, empty, with remote controls from the terminal. If he could lure them in, defeating them would be simple.

But how?

In the light provided by the screens, something glinted. A comlink, left on the terminal and in working condition.

—
​

Zrad stalked the corridors, his blaster pistol raised high. No one from inside was answering, leaving his team to investigate. "Damn it, where is everybody?"

"Check the slave cell. Make sure they are all accounted for," he ordered Dorgun. He nodded, opening the cell and quickly counting. "All there."

"Wait, I got something. Someone's comm link is on, but there is no answer," Wag said as his comlink kept beeping.

"Where?"

"The other cell."

"It's a trap," Dolur spat. There was no reason for anyone to be inside the other cell.

He got on Dolur's face, eyes narrowing, arms spreading to make himself appear bigger. "I am not going to run away like a coward from our warehouse. Are you?"

Dolur looked down, shaking his head.

"Then shut your mouths and follow me."

His team fell in line, following him to the cell on the other end of the corridor. He nodded at Trus, who pressed the button, opening the door. Without even entering, they opened fire, lighting the darkness with blaster fire.

No one walked in once the guns fell silent.

They all looked at him. He had just talked big game and had to back it up. He moved inside, slowly, feeling his heartbeat quicken in the darkness. The rest of the team followed him lest they be branded cowards.

There was nothing inside except for the scorch marks and a comlink on the ground. Zrad took it, putting an end to the emergency call.

He turned back at the sound of the whirling machinery. The door had just closed, trapping four of them inside.

"You two, get us out now!" His loud voice echoed inside the empty cell. His answer was two distinct screams and then silence.

"Trus, Dolur, where are you?!" he shouted to no avail. A golden light behind had him turning around once more, only to see a Dorgun fall through a golden circle. The three of them backed away from the spot. Another circle appeared beneath Wag, who managed to hold on to its edge. The two of them held him by the arms, pulling their comrade up.

The circle closed and they fell on their backs, each holding a severed arm.

He and Goret looked at each other, trembling. He acted fast, latching onto the manacles on the wall, pulling himself up. Goret wasn't as quick-witted, falling through a circle.

His eyes snapped around wildly, searching for a way out or to find the one responsible. His breath quickened, the silence deafening him. "Come and get me, you bastard!" he screamed, spit flying out of his mouth.

A circle appeared on the ceiling, and his eyes widened.

—
​

Anakin flooded the room with water, drowning the Weequay, though he did not stay to watch.

He deactivated the shock collars and then fried the terminal. He already had the codes for the pirate ship. The people could take it and escape.

He stepped through the portal, opening the door. He jumped back as a Twi'lek fell on him, swinging wildly, but stopped once he saw Anakin wasn't a pirate.

"A child? Did you escape too?" The brown Twi'lek asked, looking around for pirates.

Anaking shook his head beneath the hood. "No. I am here to help you. The pirates are gone, and the code to their ship is here. If you hurry, you can reach the ship before the sun rises and leave the planet."

He handed another comlink over to the Twi'lek, who took it with an open mouth.

"But you, how?" he spluttered.

"Do you want to stay here and listen or escape?"

A female Twi'lek approached, putting a hand on his shoulder. "He is right; we should leave."

"Do you have a name, child?" he asked. The least he could do was to learn the name of his savior.

"It's not important. You should go now."

"Thank you."

—
​

He teleported back to his room, watching the people escape in his astral form. Once they left the planet, he went back to sleep with a smile on his face.

—
​

"How was your late-night adventure?" his teacher asked just as Anakin was inhaling the eggs. He coughed, feeling some of the food go where it should not have.

His mother's brows furrowed even as she handed him a glass of water. "You knew?"

"Anakin, you are too young to even think you can fool me. This place has also been my home for many years. I know what is happening inside it."

"Anakin Skywalker, what is the meaning of this?!"

He turned to his teacher for help, but Strange turned to the right, avoiding eye contact. He saw the smile on the older man's face but couldn't do anything as his mother glared at him. He sighed, explaining what exactly he had done.

"Unhappy" was an understatement to how she felt.

—
​

"Am I getting punished?" He asked his teacher, standing in the training ground.

Strange nodded, stroking his graying beard. "You are."

"But I helped those people."

His teacher raised an eyebrow. "And risked your life in the process, no matter how small the risk was."

Anakin deflated like a Beldon.

"Still, you are right, you did help those people. You should be rewarded for it."

His eyes shone, a glimmer of hope appearing before him. "So no punishment?"

"You are getting a reward and a punishment," Strange said. If his good act negated his bad one, Anakin would continue to sneak out. He could reward good behavior without letting the boy risk his life once more.

"For today, you are free to do as you wish. You can study whatever subject you want as soon as you are finished dusting the whole Sanctum," he said, grinning near the end.

"But that'll take the whole day!" he protested.

Strange's grin grew as he walked away. "I missed the part where that is my problem."

Anakin sighed, slouching. He eventually left to carry out his punishment. At least the thought of the dead pirates and the freed slaves kept him happy.

—
​

For some reason, there wasn't a spell to help with the household chores. In addition, 3PO was helping his master sort out the books in the library, so he couldn't help. He didn't have the will to fight his punishment. Finding the nearest cleaning duster, he began from the entrance, only stopping to take a break for lunch and dinner.

His mother softened as it got late, but he pushed on, finishing minutes before midnight.

These last few minutes weren't worth studying for, so he dropped the idea, going to sleep.

—
​

The next day, his training returned to its normal schedule.

He struck with the sword, only for it to bounce off his teacher's shield. Strange responded with a stab that Anakin barely blocked. He was using more and more power each day so his apprentice wouldn't get complacent.

The deadly dance continued with back and forth strikes. Anakin's sixth sense gave him an advantage. He performed better than expected, taking risks that wouldn't be worth it otherwise.

Strange changed tactics. His sword expanded into a spear, giving him more range. Anakin dismissed his sword and summoned another shield. He kept as much of his body inside as possible, blocking the rapid stabs.

Anakin, though, wasn't willing to stay on the defensive forever.

Much like his teacher, he too began to learn on his own, experimenting with the Force. While it did not directly interact with the Mystic Arts, there were other ways to use it. As he blocked the relentless strikes, a small dagger slowly formed behind him. With his concentration split on maintaining the shields and the spar, it was an arduous process.

But not impossible.

Strange did sense his apprentice's not-so-secret efforts. He let it happen, curious as to what the boy had prepared. He continued to probe the defenses and the footwork. His attacks met stiff resistance, while Anakin dodged the attacks that went for the exposed parts, such as the feet.

He twirled the spear around himself, striking from different angles to force his apprentice back. It disrupted whatever he was planning. However, Anakin had to learn how to keep his concentration through such disturbances to succeed.

No mercy in training, so he would never need it in the future.

Anakin was quick to recompose himself, adapting to the change. His shields curved, becoming half spheres.

"Brace yourself," Strange ordered, switching his spear to a bo staff. He struck hard, causing the shield on the right to rattle. The left one followed before he spun a full circle, bringing the staff down.

Anakin scrambled back, feeling his senses scream. The strike cracked the ground, and he gulped. Strange rushed forward, a series of rapid stabs putting his apprentice on the backfoot again.

A dagger, half formed and on the verge of disintegrating, flew by his ear, stopping Strange for a moment. It was all Anakin needed to reshape the shields into twin-pronged claws, the quickest weapons he could think of. He swiped with the right and then the left, stabbing both forward.

Strange blocked the claws, but his staff got stuck between the prongs. Before he could pull it away, Anakin tried to close the gap, attempting to break the weapon to disarm Strange.

Unfortunately for his apprentice, it was his own constructs that broke.

He put the tip of the staff on his apprentice's forehead, gently poking. Anakin took a deep breath, groaning as he combed a hand through his hair.

"Well done. I assume you used the force to launch that dagger?"

"I did."

"Good. If you can continue to perform this well under stress, you will be one hell of a Master of the Mystic Arts."

Anakin smiled, giving a short bow.

—
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In the next chapter:

Strange raised an eyebrow, kneeling to look his apprentice in the eyes. "But what? I began to learn the mystic arts before you were even born. I am one of the best, as my teacher said. You have more potential than me; you simply need time and patience to bring it out."

"If you would let me…" he began but was stopped by his teacher.

"Anakin, patience."

"You know what, it will be our next lesson with you." He just had the perfect idea to instill some patience in his pupil.

After they ate dinner and had a good night's rest, of course.



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[Lillie Jones]

Thanks for the chapter
Continue on
Cheers!

 

[TheGeneral03]

TFTC

 

[BoxaCarCar]

Yoda: "I cannot teach him. The boy has no patience.
"Ancient One: "He will learn patience.
"Yoda: "Much anger in him... like his teacher.
"Ancient One: "Was he any different when I taught him?"