Chapter One:
He ran through the snow, pushing branches out of the way as his breath evaporated into the cold of the night. Throat going raw from the frigid air, he willed himself to keep breathing, ignoring the sharp ache. The soft, wintry breeze seeped through his long black shirt and pants, causing him to involuntarily shiver.
At least, he hoped the trembling was from the icy atmosphere and not from his undulating fear and anticipation.
A rope of thorns had wrapped around his heart, pulling, dragging, tugging him to something he desperately wanted to find, which was... what? What was it that he so urgently needed? His wavy ebony hair flew in all directions as he looked around. Lost... he was so lost in this expanse of the forest, but at the same time, knew exactly where he was going.
With each step, the pressure in his chest started to give, allowing the breath of life to fill his very soul. Focusing on sound as if it might help him, all he could hear was the crunch of his boots and the labor of his breath.
Almost there, he thought to himself.
He rounded a big cluster of trees and abruptly stopped, feet digging into the snow. Regaining his balance, he froze and stared at the figure in his view. A woman stood not twenty feet from him, her form facing away as she looked off into the distance. She remained perfectly still, as was he. Time dragged out to a lazy crawl, giving him a gift to take in her presence. As her long, grey robe and dark brown hair fluttered in the soft wind, an overwhelming feeling of belonging filled his core.
He'd always yearned for a place he wasn't sure even existed; one where his heart was full and his soul understood.
That place was her, this woman, this person he didn't even know. To him, she was a horizon to his night, a whisper in the storm, a flower among weeds. He didn't need to meet her to know her, because half of his soul was already attached to her.
Fear flowed into his veins from how much he wanted her, but here he was, wanting her anyway. No sound came from his mouth as he called out, his frustration growing from not being able to see her fully.
Captivated by her sudden movement, she stretched out her arm, hand open toward the landscape. A silver rod flew into her hands and a blue light shot out of the end.
His breathing hitched as he just stood there, transfixed by what was happening. Pointing the saber to the ground, she abruptly turned to face him, the tendrils of her hair sweeping over to the side. They locked eyes, putting his whole body in pause-mode: no breathing, no thinking, no living.
This woman... he knew her.
The earth shook violently, vibrating his bones as he fell onto his back, knocking the breath out of his lungs. He rolled over and felt grass between his fingers. Grass? But he'd just been in snow...
He inhaled deeply, the air warmer than before, but still in the realm of being bitterly chilly. As he leveled out his breathing, he tucked his feet beneath him and stood to view an immense ocean, each wave twinkling in the moonlight.
His spine tingled up to his brain. Someone was watching him from behind.
Pivoting around, he found the woman from the snow studying him, like she'd seen him before, but couldn't locate the memory. Hands empty, she no longer held the lightsaber.
Wanting to go to her, he took a hesitant step forward. Her entire demeanor change lightening quick. Eyes wide with fear and body now shaking from adrenaline, she took a step away. Then another. And another. He realized she wasn't going to stop – not until her body reached the ledge that was patiently waiting behind.
He rushed to her, his arm outstretched to grab and spare her from such a deadly fall. She matched his gusto, walking back until her foot only met air. Horror etched into her expression as her hand shot out, grazing his fingertips, and then... she was gone, falling into the darkness that lay beyond.
He fell to his knees, arm still reaching out for her as he watched her plummet into the dark water. The moment she went under, his heart split in two – one side still beating, the other dead from her departure.
Breathing heavily, he waited to see her emerge.
"This is your choice," a strong female voice sounded off from behind. His breath caught in his throat upon recognizing the tone, the very one he never wanted to hear. He shifted on his knees to see his mother looking down at him, her face stone cold and older than he remembered. Slowly, he stood to face her, his eyes never leaving her short frame.
"You can save her or you can be devoured by your own darkness," she warned. Her gaze swept over to the side. He followed her line of sight to see his father standing in the distance. His soul shook, his gut stirred, and his eyes watered. Not having the strength to fight it, he succumbed to the fear and let it devour him whole.
"Ben!"
Red, crackling light flashed across his fathers face as Ben's eyes grew wide and the tears spilled over onto his cheeks. Memories of his father caressing his cheek and falling into an endless chasm of light filled his mind, tearing through his gray matter till it was nothing but mush. Hot bile stung his throat as he stepped back, trying to get away from his parents and his past. His last step was welcomed by the open air, gravity assisting the fall by pushing him over the cliff till he was submerged into the darkness of his own misery, his only companion.
Kylo Ren's eyes shot open as he sucked in a sharp breath, rubbing his tense face till it was raw. Sweat layered his skin, matting his hair and sticking his clothes to his body. He remained in his bed, looking up at the grey metal ceiling while he tried to slow his beating heart. Once he established a steady rhythm, he raised his body to rest his back against the cold wall, surveying his stark room in the process.
A closet, bed, and nightstand were the only pieces of furniture in this cold, metal box he lived in – all of them black and plain in appearance. No decorations, no color in the room. Not much to look at to distract himself from his thoughts... which were plenty.
It had been four days since the destruction of Starkiller Base. Four days of him healing from the shot he took from Chewie's bowcaster. Four days since he talked to Han Solo and killed him. The overwhelming weakness he'd felt after letting him fall into the depths of the oscillator still haunted him. He placed his hands in his hair and looked down at his sheets. He didn't understand. The Supreme Leader told him that by killing Han Solo, he would be granted insurmountable strength, which would lead him further down the path of the dark side... but it didn't. The call to the light had been more powerful since his death, like the act had somehow left a taint on his being that was impossible to erase.
Dammit, he hated himself for this weakness, for not being more powerful to stop these feelings from occurring. That ridiculous dream had brought this conflict within him back to the surface when all he wanted was for it to remain dead and buried. Placing his hands in his lap, he threw his head back against the metal wall, relishing the pounding of pain.
That dream….
It has haunted him for the last twenty years. Every time after he'd wake, he felt naked and stripped of all his pride. He thought back to the last time he'd had it. It must have been... a little over three years ago.
The dream never deviated from it's narrative, always starting the same: him running, being drawn to her, seeing the back of the woman's figure... and wanting her. Stars, the wanting. Feelings like that was one of the reasons why the galaxy was so weak: sentiment always got in the way of perfection and order.
Mind wondering back to the reverie, he could still perfectly see her catching his grandfather's saber. In the past, right before she revealed her face, he'd always wake. But tonight, he finally saw her and it was a face he was all too familiar with.
The scavenger.
But the dream didn't stop after the revelation. It had kept kept going, showing her fall into the sea below and him wanting to reach her, to save her. And what was that ludicrous warning Leia had given him?
He scoffed at the open air.
If he were met with the same scenario in real life, he would let that garbage picker drown. Just thinking about her brought on immense embarrassment of his own defeat by her hands. A girl, who had no prior training in the force, left a scar rippling across his face and almost killed him. He scolded himself for not going in for the kill when he fought her in the forest. He actually offered to teach her, taking compassion upon her for her lonely and rough life. It had been foolish to have seen parts of himself reflected within her, foolish to let his compassion underestimate her startling abilities.
That won't happen again.
She'll pay for his humiliation. He'll kill her and relish in the light leaving her eyes.
A smile stretched across his face as he got up and headed to the refresher. Focusing on getting revenge helped him push the light out of his thoughts to where he could no longer feel its pull.
If she thinks I'm a monster, that's exactly what I'll be.
And I'll relish every minute of it.