Chapter Text
A long time ago in a galaxy far, far away, on a remote planet on the Outer Rim, a temple was built on the site of one much more ancient. Not as grand as its predecessor perhaps, but Luke Skywalker felt no urge to impress others with his rudimentary creation. There were no other Jedi left to impress after all, and this temple was not constructed to be marvelled at. It was a training temple, built to school a new generation of Jedi, nothing more.
Luke Skywalker had learned enough of the Jedi’s history not to fall into the same traps they had. He knew of their hubris, of the complacency that led to their ultimate downfall and the rise of the Sith.
But the Sith were gone, the last of them having shed any claim to that allegiance before he died in his son’s arms years ago, over an insignificant green moon in the Endor System. There was no immediate threat to his young padawans now, save any tendencies to lean into the Darkness residing within their own temperaments.
It was never going to be easy, Luke knew that, because children could be naturally selfish and heedlessly cruel. Patience and kindness are traits that sometimes need to be taught or learned over time. But children yearn to be taught. And particularly by one whose name was already legend.
The most notable of Luke’s apprentices was also one of the first to arrive at this temple. At ten years old, Ben Solo was already beginning to sprout taller than most children his age, and he was quicker of limb and stronger in the Force than even the oldest or most adept of all of his fellow students. This aptitude was perhaps to be expected, he was Luke Skywalker’s nephew after all. And the son of the revered Rebel Alliance heroes, Princess Leia Organa and Han Solo. His family connections alone would have been enough to earn the respect of the other students and could have easily been capitalised on if Ben had been more sociable or charismatic in character.
But Ben Solo was a taciturn child, given to solitude. He had confidence in his abilities, but that confidence did not come in a guise other children admired. Not that he gloated about his exalted heritage or flaunted his superior talents in the various exercises they took part in. Ben Solo’s confidence did not manifest itself in a boastful manner.
But if he was matched with an inferior opponent when they practised combat with wooden staffs he didn’t attempt to hold back or give away any opportunities to defeat him. If the other padawans groaned over learning a long Jedi text by rote, Ben didn’t. He simply went off by himself and learned it. Efficiently and perfectly. If he was asked a difficult question that had stumped his peers, he didn’t prevaricate or pretend he too found it problematic. He answered it promptly and correctly. That was the sort of confidence Ben Solo had. There was no self-deprecation to leaven it, or a desire to be helpful to endear others to him. Because Ben Solo did not appear to understand or care that others struggled with what came so easily to him.
He did have friends. Hennix, a Quarren amongst so many humans, was inclined to be understanding of another who also didn’t quite fit in. Voe, competitive and headstrong, saw the value in making a friend of Ben Solo to learn from his strengths and seek out his weaknesses. And Tai, kind-hearted and fair-minded, was undeterred by Ben’s aloof reticence, charitably assuming that an intrinsic loneliness lay at the root of it.
He was right, even if Ben would never admit that to him, or to anyone.
But he was lonely. An only child of a nomadic upbringing, he missed the only real constants in his life. His mother and father and his father’s loyal co-pilot, the Wookiee, Chewbacca, who had been as much an uncle to him as Luke was. Possibly more so, because visits from Uncle Luke, as welcome as they were, had been more of a rare occurrence.
Ben was very fond of his uncle, and a little in awe of his accomplishments. He hadn’t wanted to leave home for the Jedi academy, but at least Luke was a link to that home. He did prefer it when his uncle left some of the older students in charge and brought Ben away with him on quests to uncover Jedi relics. Which, of course, was another practice that elevated him above his envious peers. Ben didn’t mind that.
The notion of friendship with other children his age was new to this only child. And not particularly welcome. Unlike other children his age, he was not anxious to surround himself with friends. He didn’t need any. Because Ben had a constant companion with him wherever he went.
Not just any standard imaginary playmate like any other child would have. Ben didn’t know when this companion had started speaking to him, but his voice was as familiar to him as those of his parents or his own. He didn’t know why he had always kept it a secret either, but something told him it wasn’t exactly normal to hear a voice in one’s head, even when he was little. It wasn’t something he ever heard anyone else talk about.
This friend was wise and tolerant and encouraged Ben’s desire to improve his knowledge. And praised him when he succeeded. Ben had all the company he could have ever desired.
There was one time, when he was eight years old, when he had almost confided in his uncle about it. Two years before this, Luke had allowed Ben to hold his lightsaber. Not on his own, but with his uncle’s hands wrapped around his, and Ben had been fascinated with it ever since. It had felt so light in his hand, so exciting! But there had been something more. It felt as if it had spoken to him. Just to him. He wanted to hold it again. All by himself.
And even though he had known he shouldn’t he had done so. Although that was all he had been prepared to do.
“Ignite it,” said the voice in his head. “This lightsaber will belong to you one day. Light it.”
So Ben did, much too close to his uncle’s brown cloak that had hung beside it on a hook in the entrance hallway. The damage it did to the cloak was not as serious as the consequences that followed. And much later, his uncle rapped on the door of Ben’s bedroom where he had been sent as a punishment for his youthful crime.
“You will have your own lightsaber one day,” said Luke comfortingly after Ben stammered out a heartfelt apology. “But only when you are ready to wield it.”
“I don’t want one anymore,” sobbed Ben.
His uncle slung an arm around his shaking shoulders.
“You think that now, but you will. You made a mistake and you learned from it. That’s all that matters.”
“But I knew I shouldn’t have done it,” Ben whispered. He wiped his eyes and looked tentatively up at his uncle. “There was a voice. In my head…”
“That’s a good thing,” Luke said kindly and ruffled Ben’s hair. “That’s your conscience. It tells you what’s right and what’s wrong. If you’re ever not sure of what to do in a situation, listen to it.”
So Ben had taken that advice. Even if he was almost positive Luke hadn’t understood him properly. Because the voice had told him he had done the right thing by not telling his uncle everything.
When Ben Solo was thirteen years old he learned all about secret places. Locations imbued with Force energy so strong that when a Force sensitive being entered them, they were subject to visions, or even in some cases, physically transported into a spiritual plane beyond the physical.
He had heard the story of Luke’s journey into the cave on Dagobah before, once, late at night when Uncle Luke had visited his parents on Chandrila. He wasn’t really supposed to have heard it, but he had pretended to be asleep so his mother wouldn’t send him to bed like she always did when she thought Ben would hear anything that would give him food to fuel his already frequent nightmares.
And so Ben knew all about how Luke had fought the infamous Darth Vader in the mysterious tree cave. He knew it had all been a Dark Side projection, forcing Luke to face his own fears.
It hadn’t given Ben nightmares, he liked to find out things like that, even if he didn’t quite understand them completely. He wanted to know more about scary things, make them real. Because then at least he could endeavour to understand them.
He was much more afraid of things he didn’t know. Ben’s nightmares were frightening because they were lurid and shocking, like memories belonging to someone else who didn’t think to explain them to him. Fleeting horrible violent images. Coldness and darkness and a rage beyond anything he knew it was possible to feel.
The story of Yoda, Luke Skywalker’s erstwhile mentor, and his journey to the Wellspring of Life was a story he hadn’t heard. He didn’t know the legendary Jedi had been tested by five priestesses who sent him to Moraband, the home world of the Sith, to complete these tests. Even the omniscient voice in his mind hadn’t heard this story. Ben was kind of pleased to be the one to discover this tale, and he was just as curious to know more about it as was his secret companion.
It was a story that also captivated the other students and was whispered about around the campfires long after training was done for the day.
Ben’s group of friends was no exception, and he succumbed to their demands to call his uncle over so they could badger him for more details.
“Why won’t you tell us how to become Force ghosts now?” asked impatient Voe. “We could have an accident tomorrow and die and then we’d never be able to do it.”
“You’re not ready,” said Luke, sitting down and arranging his hands in his loose brown sleeves. “Your impatience is enough to tell me that. You have to learn how to be a true conduit of the Force first.”
“Am I ready?” said Ben, and received an irritated glance from Voe.
“No, Ben.” Luke smiled and shook his head. “Not yet.”
“He just said we weren’t,” said Voe, rather pleased.
Ben was quiet for a while as the others bombarded their master with more questions. There was a question he had been prompted to ask during the lesson that day, but he hadn’t been sure his uncle would like him to ask it in front of the other students. But now, sitting around the campfire like this so informally, he thought he might venture to inquire.
“Is it only the Jedi who can become Force ghosts?” he said.
“Why? Who else is there?” said Hennix.
But Luke held up his hand, his blue eyes narrowing. “You’re talking about the Sith."
Ben nodded. “Could Palpatine have survived after the Battle of Endor? If he was as strong in the Force as you told us he was?”
“No,” said Luke. “You don’t have to worry about that. He’s gone.”
“But, why? How do you know that for sure?” persisted Ben. “If the Jedi can do it, why couldn’t he?”
“The Jedi embrace death. Peacefully,” said Luke. “We don’t fear it because we know there is no death, only the Force. The Sith sought to cheat death, or to use it as a means to free their spirit.”
“What does that mean? They could survive after death?” said Ben.
“In a way,” said Luke. “But not in any way that would be pleasant. More often than not, their souls were bound to a Dark Side artifact, imprisoning them there. An eternity of hatred and bitterness alone.”
Tai shuddered. “That’s horrible.”
“It is,” agreed Luke. “But it’s not something you need to concern yourselves with.” He glanced at Ben, who appeared to be lost in thought. “Ben?”
“But if a Sith embraced death, like you said, wouldn’t it be possible then? And if they did, couldn’t they find a way to return?”
Luke’s brow creased. “To embrace death is not the way of the Sith.”
“Stop asking about the Sith, Solo. It’s giving me the creeps,” said Hennix.
“I just wanted to make sure,” said Ben. He turned to his uncle. “But you will teach us? When we’re older?”
“I’ll teach you when you’re ready,” said Luke.
“What do you think I would see if I entered the cave on Dagobah?” asked Ben. “If there are no Sith left, what would I see?”
“I can’t tell you that,” said Luke. “Everyone brings with them their own particular fears. Even if you have hidden them so deep you don’t know what they are yourself, the cave will show you what they are.”
“What if you don’t have any fears?” said Voe, who prided herself in her fearlessness in combat.
“There is not a single soul in the galaxy that does not possess fear. But a Jedi does not allow himself, or,” Luke smiled at Voe, “herself to succumb to that fear. True strength lies in overcoming your fear, not being devoid of it. How can you be brave if you aren’t afraid of anything?”
“Will that be part of our training?” said Ben. “To face our fears in the cave?”
“Perhaps,” said Luke. “But not yet.”
“What about the Wellspring of Life?” persisted Ben. “Where is it? Will you take me there?”
“That’s a secret,” said his uncle. “Known only to a chosen few of the Jedi who have passed on into the Force.”
“But you are a Jedi,” said Ben. “Isn’t it a secret you know?”
“That’s my secret,” Luke tapped the side of his nose and then laughed when he saw Ben frown. “Maybe I’ll tell you someday.”
And with that Ben had to be content.
He was not to know then that his visit to the Dagobah cave would occur under the guidance of a very different master. Or that the fear he felt in that cave would be so overwhelming it would cause him to destroy it.
And he was not to know it would be almost seventeen years before the man Ben Solo would become that he would find the answer to his questions. And that it would take him all that time to uncover the whereabouts of the Wellspring of Life. Setting a series of events in motion that nobody, not even his wise Uncle Luke, could have predicted.
Because the Wellspring of Life is the most powerful vergence in the Force in the known galaxy.
It does not have any concept of time. Or space. Or reality as we understand it. Sometimes the strangest things can happen there to those who are not fully prepared for what they are about to find.
And he was to discover that finding the Wellspring of Life was not the most difficult thing to do.
It was finding a way out.
Ahch-To. 34 ABY.
A couple of months before this unprecedented series of events following the former Ben Solo’s discovery of the Wellspring of Life, Luke Skywalker was already dead. And because the last of the Jedi had come to his end through achieving his purpose, a sense of peace had allowed him to embrace his death freely and without regret. And so, like many others before him, he had now ascended to that plane of existence beyond it.
But he considered it was perhaps too early yet to reap the rewards of his willing sacrifice. The nephew who had once been his greatest and dearest student was still too raw and bitter over the very recent upheavals in his life to pay heed to anything he would have to say. Luke didn’t despair over this circumstance. There was no despair where he was now. And there was still time. And while there is time, there is always hope.
The compassion Luke’s final act had afforded him could still manage to find a way to Ben Solo’s heart beneath the mask of Kylo Ren he had assumed all those years ago. Kylo Ren, who had finally overthrown and killed that voice in his head, was now free to make his own decisions. Decisions only he could make. Luke had shown him one path to take but he could do no more. At least not yet.
But there was another. Another student who had come to him so much later. And now Ben Solo’s fate, and the fate of the galaxy as a whole, did not weigh so heavily on his uncle’s shoulders. That burden had been passed on. But although the peace and purpose Luke had felt on his death had given him some comfort, he could not rest easy in his exalted plane of existence, far away from the turmoil of the physical realm.
That burden had passed on to one who was just as strong and powerful in the Force as his nephew. And every bit as stubborn and headstrong. She was young, too young to bear this burden that had been left for her to bear. Too inexperienced, too hasty, too guarded. Luke feared she was not ready for the responsibility his departure had bestowed upon her.
That former student had returned to the place where Luke Skywalker had sought refuge after a momentary disastrous mistake had cost him his nephew’s trust and triggered his descent into darkness. And now she was once more on the lonely island on Ahch-To, where she had determinedly dogged the legendary Jedi’s every footstep until he had finally conceded to teach her.
She hadn’t come alone this time. Luke’s twin sister Leia Organa Solo accompanied her, with their faithful family friend, the Wookiee Chewbacca, and two droids who had witnessed three generations of the Skywalker family’s turmoil. Ce Threepio, the protocol droid designed by his father Anakin Skywalker, and Artoo Detoo, his trusty astromech comrade.
All of these companions now awaited the return of Luke’s last apprentice from a place they couldn’t follow her into. For it had been less than a year since Rey of Jakku had learned about the existence of these secret places Luke had told his nephew about so many years before. She had discovered it by herself on this island the first time she had consciously reached out with the Force, frightening her reluctant master with her own apparent lack of fear of touching the darkness that lay within that cold sea cavern. The darkness that lay inside herself.
Luke had been wrong to assume that she had felt no fear.
Rey had been afraid. She had been afraid of the urgency with which the darkness had called out to her where she had sat cross-legged at the entrance to the ancient Jedi Temple high above. All of it frightened Rey, because all of this was so new, so unknown. But as frightened as she was, Rey needed to know. Insubstantial fears were so much worse than fears that were known. And fears that were not dealt with properly could be manipulated. She had learned that the hard way.
The first time Rey had entered the cave she had discovered what her deepest fear had been. What it always had been. Despite every wishful optimistic assurance she had told herself over and over until she had convinced herself it was true.
She was alone. Really, truly alone. An orphan child who would never know the love of the parents she had lost. They were gone and they were never coming back, and that love had never been hers to have.
But it had been Luke Skywalker’s nephew who had stripped away every last tentative hidden hope that these parents had ever valued her at all. After he had been the one person to give her hope that she might have finally found a different sort of belonging she had never thought to find. Kylo Ren had crushed these burgeoning new hopes along with those childhood fantasies when he had spurned her entreaty to return with her to the Light even as he offered her his hand. The belonging he had offered had come at much too steep a cost.
And now, wet and bedraggled from her visit to that dark sea cave, Rey took her time drying herself and changing her clothes before returning to the hut where her friends waited. She needed that time to compose herself, to draw on her own resilient nature to muster up a courage she didn’t quite feel.
She wasn’t completely successful. Leia’s sharp eyes detected unease almost as soon as Rey entered the little stone cell that had once been home to her brother.
“Rey?” she said. “How did it go? You’re shivering. Chewie, grab that blanket.”
She wrapped the blanket over Rey’s shoulders and hugged it around her, and now Rey really had to struggle to keep her composure. Remembering a cold dark night in a little stone cell just like this when Leia’s son had reached across the galaxy to take her hand. Offer her the comfort she had craved.
“I’m fine, just cold,” said Rey.
“You’re not going to tell us what you saw,” said Luke.
Rey met his gaze apprehensively. “Not… not yet. I need to make sense of it myself first.”
“Take your time,” said Leia softly, gripping Rey’s shoulder tighter. “We’re here whenever you want to talk to us.”
Rey nodded, finding it hard to look into Leia’s eyes. Wondering, not for the first time, how Kylo Ren could have turned his back on this woman. He had everything Rey had ever wanted, and he had just… walked away. Burning every last bridge behind him.
But she couldn’t think about that now. The best thing she could do was move forward, find out how she could show her own loyalty to this brave little woman who had once led a galaxy against the forces of darkness and was tirelessly attempting to do the same again. Leia never gave up and Rey wouldn’t either.
She was the last of the Jedi.
“I need to find out more,” she said. “I need to be ready. The cave showed me the past, not the future.”
Luke looked at her gravely. “That means there are issues you still have to deal with from your past. Those issues will affect your future if you don’t.”
“I’ve dealt with them,” said Rey shortly. It had been quite a long walk back from the cave. She saw Luke raise his eyebrows at her and lifted her chin. “Or I will. I can. I need to get past all of that so I will. The First Order is gaining momentum after Crait. We need answers. We need help.”
“There is a place,” said Luke. “But it is a place that will test you beyond anything you have experienced here, and I don’t think you’re ready yet.”
Rey frowned. “This isn’t like the last time. This isn’t about my family. Or me. There are no more secrets. This is about the Resistance, nothing else. I’m not being stupid or naïve.”
“Naïve, maybe,” said Luke gently. “Stupid? No. You had hope. A hope I should have had.”
Rey’s jaw lost some of its determination. “I was wrong. You were right.”
“No.” Luke shook his head. “That’s something we can’t know yet. My master, Yoda, told me failure is the greatest teacher. I should have known that. I should have listened to you then. Like I should have listened to Ben all that time ago.”
Leia’s smile at her brother was a little tremulous. “He’s right, Rey. You gave my son a choice. You set something in motion, just like his father did. Sometimes we can’t know the consequences an event can have until much later.”
Rey couldn’t listen to this. Not after what she had seen in the cave. She couldn’t let herself think about him yet. And as hard as it would be for his mother to hear, she couldn’t let Leia hold on to a hope that had led Rey into making such a dreadful mistake after she had touched her son’s hand across the galaxy in that little hut so close to here.
“He made his decision,” she said stiffly. “We can’t wait to find out what those consequences are. If there are any.”
But Kylo Ren’s mother was not ready to give up hope yet.
“You didn’t know him,” she said. “Before the darkness consumed him. How he struggled with it. How he fought it his entire life. You can’t blame him for what he became and what he’s done. Blame me, if you need to. I should have been there for him. I should have helped him. We should have helped him, his father and I. But we were too busy, too caught up in the worlds we lived in. There never seemed to be enough time to spend together. Time to make a home for him.”
And now Rey was remembering Kylo Ren telling her Han Solo would have disappointed her. And for a moment she let herself wonder if that was true. And just for a moment she let herself wonder something she hadn’t allowed herself think about ever since that terrible moment in Snoke’s throne room. She let herself wonder what it would be like to have parents. Parents like Han and Leia, if they hadn’t had to shoulder the responsibilities of the galaxy. If they had been able to make time for her. To love her and give her a home.
But that would never happen. She would never know what that was like. Just as Finn would never know the parents the First Order had snatched him away from. Like they had taken the life of Rose’s sister. Like Kylo Ren had taken his father from his mother. It wasn’t fair. None of it was. They had all lost something or someone. And they still fought for what was right. There were no excuses for Kylo Ren. There couldn’t be. Not anymore.
“There is still goodness in him, I know it,” said Leia. “Snoke tried to stamp it out and now he’s trying to do that himself. But it’s still there, buried under all of that anger and pain.”
Rey couldn’t bring herself to say anything. His mother needed to believe that, but she didn’t have to. She knew she shouldn’t. It was safer that way.
“But we don’t have time to wait. And I have nothing left to fear. I know who I am now. There’s nothing more anyone can take away.”
“Do any of us ever know who we truly are?” said Luke. “There’s always something we want or fear, even if we don’t know it. Or won’t acknowledge it.”
“I want this war to end,” said Rey quickly. “And I need to be able to make that happen. Tell me what you know. Help me. Please.”
Luke’s eyes shifted to his sister’s. She nodded and he sighed before glancing back at Rey. He stood up, moving to a recess in the stone wall of the hut.
“I recovered this from one of the Emperor’s observatories on Pillio. It’s a star compass with a supraluminate lodestone attuned to hyperspace vectors. And this. A Ponipin Astrogator.”
Rey got up to join him, turning the star compass over in her hand. “Will they lead me to this place you spoke of?”
“They will. But the Wellspring of Life is not so easy to enter. Or navigate. These instruments will be useless there. You’ll need to look within to find your path.”
He unslung a leather bolo necklace from a hook above the niche and placed it over her head. “Take this.”
Rey frowned, her fingers uneasily tracing the red Kyber crystal that hung from it. It felt familiar, and a memory of Snoke’s throne room came flooding back. When she had held Kylo Ren’s saber aloft. A raw crackling energy, more muted here, but still present.
“What is this?”
“A Jedi crusader pendant,” said Luke. “I found it on Pillio a number of years after I discovered the compass. The crystal is a fragment of a Kyber crystal that has been corrupted by the Dark Side.”
Rey’s fingers jerked away. She stared at Luke in consternation. “The Dark Side? Whose crystal is this? What do I need this for?”
“It doesn’t matter who it belonged to,” said Luke. “There is darkness within us all. Much as we try to suppress it, it must be acknowledged. Particularly there, in the Wellspring of Life, where the Force is at its most powerful.”
Rey didn’t like that, but she nodded. She picked up the Ponipin Astrogator and examined it.
“Show me how this works.”
And so Rey learned how to find a path to the Wellspring of Life at the same time as Kylo Ren was already making preparations to leave for this uncharted destination.
And because of this, they arrived at almost exactly the same time.
And perhaps Luke Skywalker had been right to question Rey’s readiness for this test. Just as he had questioned his nephew’s readiness for that same test all those years ago.
Neither of them was prepared for what they would uncover in the depths of this nexus of the Force.
And because of this, the very substance of the galaxy they inhabited was changed, throwing all they knew into disarray.
Throwing them into another reality. Another place.
A secret place where everything was different.
A place created out of slim tatters and fragments of that galaxy far, far away.