Chapter Text
"Will he later hallucinate his gods? Walking among mysteries with an insane gleam of recollection?
The recognition—something so rare in his soul, met only in dreams—nostalgia of another life.”
“Wild Orphan” by Allen Ginsberg
Back when the world was new, chaos reigned throughout, submerging it in an endless, black chasm; a collision of dark forces clashing and fighting for rule. The titans of the dark side were on the brink of molding every lasting star to its design. But then along came Anakin. The leader of the Skywalker clan. With his master, Obi-Wan Kenobi, they fought evil to restore the universe to its rightful state. But it had not been that easy. For Skywalker possessed such an immense power that the dark Lord Sidious sought to acquire. Anakin almost fell—had come so close to giving into Sidious' manipulative spell. But love was far mightier. Anakin was saved by the grand love that his wife Padme had for him. She never gave up on hope. Goddess of wisdom; she knew that her husband still homed light inside of him and that he would be the chosen one to end the dark side's empire. Furthermore, she had been nurturing two radiant beings within her: carrying twin children, already so strong and vibrant in that luminous energy source that was called The Force.
Despite the death of heroes such as Kenobi, Anakin was able to triumph and destroy the conniving spirit of Lord Sidious—fueled by the unique and enduring strength of the family that awaited him. He sent all of Sidious' followers into the furthest depths of the hells where they remained locked for the rest of eternity. With the birth of Anakin and Padme's children, the Skywalker clan rose from intransigence and ruled all the realms of the galaxy. Thus light was restored on every corner of every planet. As life continued to spur everywhere, the Skywalker gods retreated to their kingdom in Naboo to watch from above how their mortal children discovered the paths that had been created for them to discover.
All gods on Naboo rejoiced when Leia, the youngest of the Skywalker twins, announced that she was with child. Even if she was still too young and the baby’s conception had been out of wedlock with a mischievous and wayward god named Han Solo, the news of another life to succeed the bloodline had been glorious. And such a gleaming entity Leia's baby had proven to be; she had joyfully claimed, on multiple occasions, how she could feel its bright yet restless energy radiating from within her womb—as active as a Solo, but as powerful as a Skywalker, no doubt. Henceforth, after some strenuous months, Ben was born—the latest descendant of the clan. His energy was alike his grandfather's, which explained why even from her womb, he had felt so grandiose and resplendent in the Force.
A few nights after the birth, all the gods that resided on Naboo celebrated young Ben's arrival—cheering and toasting for a prosperous and brilliant life. The party had been thrown at Naboo's highest temple and a vast crowd gathered close to watch Leia in all her beauty as she walked towards her family—with elegantly braided hair and a flowing white gown, glowing as she carried her son in arms. She handed the baby to Anakin to be lifted up in an official introduction to their people. “My son…my baby…Ben” Leia proclaimed with the utmost fondness as she watched the young god being baptized by his grandfather's touch.
The crowd erupted into a delightful chorus, bowing before the family. Bowing to Leia, who was grinning as brightly as the morning light while Han stood at her side looking weary from all the attention but no less awestruck; then there was Luke, porting his pristine cape and tunic while beaming with honor and happiness for his sister, and at the very center of the temple, the elder gods, Anakin and Padme, proud and most content to be holding their grandchild at last.
The day progressed with a banquet full of the most savory delicacies and the finest of wines, and there was dancing all around the halls as an upbeat tune decorated time.
Until...All of a sudden the festivities were cut short. The crowd fell into an abrupt silence as they nervously watched the skies turn grey, and a strange and dense sort of energy showered them completely. A violent rapture parted the cloudy floors, and from beneath rose a brooding, tall figure whose features were hidden by the murky fog that accompanied it. Anakin stepped forward, shielding his family from the unexpected intruder.
The fog cleared and gave view of the trespasser. It had a deformed face; its skin looked as if it had been burned by the acid of one of the many hells, deeply scarred and wrinkled, tightly stretching over its bones in some places. Its eyes were sunken and its fingers looked like claws; it was of an imposing height, looming taller than the rest of the guests at the temple. As Anakin saw its golden tunic and threatening grin, he knew instantly: Snoke.
Not a lot was known about this mysterious being, other than the knowledge that he had been the successor appointed to guard the realm of Malachor in the underworld—the one that housed the souls of the mortals that died. But what nobody knew, was that Snoke had an agenda of his own. That he had augmented his power overtime, by possessing the souls of the prodigious mortals that had passed and keeping them all in an artifact that he wore, called a holocron. They also didn't know that he was harvesting an army of the undead to command against the kingdom of Naboo—although not before plucking the ultimate ingredient he needed to become the greatest force user in history: the power of a Skywalker.
Over time, the Skywalkers had been chased after many evil enforcers that had managed to escape from their hellish prison. Now Snoke rose as the descendant of the dark masters that came before him: Plagueis, Sidious, Maul, Dooku…they had been numerous. And Luke had been the most precious target of the family. As the first son, he had been profiled as a promising apprentice of the dark side, for his heart was the same as his father's and could be easily manipulated as Anakin's had been. But Luke had proven to be brave and led armies against their intruders along his sister. It had been, in fact, in one of those rebellions, where Leia had met Han—whose foolhardy attitude and everlasting wit had proven to be surprisingly useful in battle, earning him a promotion as a general of the Rebellion.
Now Snoke approached the family slowly. Malice coated his gaze as he eyed the youngest of the gods. Anakin quickly handed the baby back to Leia, and just as the child was deposited into his mother's arms, Anakin fell to the ground when a beam of lightning struck him. An evil cackle rang throughout the temple as Snoke watched the oldest Skywalker still quivering from the strike. Turmoil unfolded as the guests realized that if Snoke was capable of overpowering their wisest god, then they were merciless against him. In a quick flash, everyone in the room scattered in fear—the joyful tears from mere minutes ago turned into wails of despair.
Padme fell to the ground to aid her fallen husband and angrily lash out at Snoke, but she was silenced as he raised a hand and struck her down with the force as well. Snoke laughed as he witnessed the elder gods now powerless at his feet by his own doing. The remaining family flee but were stopped by an invisible clutch that paralyzed them—all three of them except for the baby. He laid restless in Leia's arms, and his shrilling cries were deafening, which fueled Snoke's triumphant ecstasy.
Snoke's voice was hoarse and macabre as he spoke, “The prophecy is almost complete. The offspring born of the Rebel Gods…the son…” and he carefully stepped closer to Ben. A cold and clammy hand caressed the side of the baby's face as he continued. “The fallen descendant that shall lead the knights of the dark side…the son that shall belong to me” Snoke eyed Ben hungrily, and was about to capture him into his own calloused hold when Luke managed to break free from his invisible trap to ignite his lightsaber (the weapon of the Skywalker gods, the Jedi knights as they called themselves when in battle) and aim it at the vile creature. By freeing himself, Luke managed to somehow break the spell that Leia and Han were under, giving them a chance to escape with Ben whilst he fought Snoke.
Han and Leia ran—heartbeats erratic and pace desperate when noticing that their steps were faltering under the clouds, as a consequence to the ruckus of Luke and Snoke's confrontation. Nevertheless they kept going until they were far enough from the temple. The couple stopped, and Leia placed Ben in Han's arms. She removed a long, silver chain from her neck and placed it in Han's grip. He looked down to see that the pendant hanging from it was an iridescent sort of stone—a kyber crystal. Leia closed her fist around Han's to accentuate the importance of the token as she firmly spoke, “Give this to him when the time is right and he'll know what to do. Go with the mortals, he will only be safe there. Until it's time, I fear, that he will be better off living a normal life away from here, or Snoke will find him again.” She placed her forehead against her lover's and with a last kiss he bid her partner and son goodbye.
“I love you” exhaled Leia, looking at him as if it was the last time—willing the Force to project to Han just how deep her love for him ran.
“I know” answered Han with a glint in his eye and a tender smile. Her heart teared into pieces as she watched them go. She managed to catch a glimpse of Han climbing into The Falcon , his personal chariot, and preparing his most noble steed, Chewie, to fly throughout the skies and descend into the mortal realm with Ben. In her chest she felt a crumbling ache that she wouldn't wish on anyone else. She wept, for she'd have to watch her precious son grow from afar, but it was the burden that she had to carry if she wanted to keep him safe. She knew they'd be all right—she trusted Han more than anyone else even if he seemed like a reckless pirate to the rest of the gods.
Once she returned to the temple, Snoke had already vanished and Luke had moved their parents to their bedchamber to recover. They had been badly injured but they'd survive. Hand in hand, the twins made their way to the edge of the clouds, and from the skies they observed as Han landed safely, with Ben secured in a bundle of blankets.
“Snoke will come back…” Luke confessed solemnly.
“I know” Leia replied.
Luke watched from above with meditative eyes as his friend and nephew found a home in a secluded village in Chandrilla. He closed his eyes and let the Force grant him the knowledge of the possible future.
Ben was a vulnerable soul. He bared a difficult mix of traits inherited from his family, making him susceptible to the same kind of manipulation that had almost robbed Anakin of his power. His noble heart seemed to be made of the finest glass—one light touch on its weakest point and it would shatter.
Luke turned to regard his sister, dreading what he was about to say, but confident all the same that she would take it. She was the Goddess of Bravery for a reason.
“If Ben is to be kept away from the darkness, he must be trained as a Jedi knight someday. If he's not under our wing, I fear…I fear that another bout of darkness will come again…I must leave you, Leia. You have to be strong and take care of everything in here. I'll keep close to Ben and wait for him when he's ready.”
And so on that day, a decision was made. Luke was to descend as well, to perfect his skills as a Jedi in order to train Ben properly. He'd find a home somewhere far enough for his presence not to be felt but close enough to be accessible to Ben when the time was right, while Leia protected their home and blessed her brother and partner's mission from her place in the heavens.
Ben was to live a life alienated from his true identity, the life of a mortal. In Chandrilla, he would not be known as Ben Skywalker, but Ben Solo—for Solo wasn't known nor prayed to, amongst humans. That was his destiny, until he was ready to embrace his prophesied path.
The youngest Skywalker shall fight against the rising, dark side. And only then, they shall return to its rightful home in the stars.
Times passed and there hadn't been a sight of Snoke ever since that disturbance at the temple. But Luke and Leia had become laden with a prolonged anxiety, for his presence had remained a faint and lingering threat in the Force. Waiting.
On the other hand, Han had managed to take a job as a merchant and delivery man for the local markets, while hooking himself up with smuggling jobs on the side to earn more money. Ben lived a happy childhood, but as he grew up, his Force sensitivity had started to manifest more acutely. His tantrums rattled objects all around him, and he found that he could make things levitate at his will. This power was never explained to Ben, which deeply confused him and distanced him even further from his mortal peers.
In time, Ben became a very lonely young man. He was too passionate, ruled by his feelings instead of his reason. His senses were only at ease when he was alone and surrounded by nature, but in his meditation, he found that his heart longed for something unnameable. He loved his father and he enjoyed helping him around, but still he couldn't quite explain why he felt a gaping hole within him, growing wider and wider with age. He felt like an outsider in his own home—in his own skin. He imagined a place far from where he lived—a place full of wonders, where he was cared for, where he belonged.
His heart was soft. His mind adrift. He was perfect. It was only a matter of time before the clueless prey fell into the claws that so desired him.
---
“BEN! Slow down, son! You’re going to get us killed!”
It had been a terrible idea. Han had thought that his son was old enough to ride the Falcon for their day’s trip but he had been painfully wrong. Ben had turned out to be such a responsible young man for him to be the son of Han Solo, which was greatly appreciated. But maybe responsibility didn't necessarily make him a good pilot…
It was the morning of his eighteenth birthday and they were to deliver some goods to a tiny villa, down the east of their home in Chandrilla. Ben had washed his favorite white tunic a few days earlier, to have it crisp and ready for such an occasion, especially because Han had promised that they could eat out in one of his favorite places afterwards (a tavern run by Han's friend, Maz Kanata) as a birthday treat. He had been all radiant smiles and excited eyes, so Han thought that finally letting Ben ride his precious chariot would make a nice adding to his birthday present. Ben had been begging to do so for long enough.
But Han had been wrong…oh so wrong, he swore he saw his life flash through his eyes as he prepared to embrace death. How awfully dramatic.
…Or not?
Honestly, this kid showed no trace of having inherited his father's skills to pilot whatever vehicle he was in control of! Ben rode the Falcon recklessly: his hold on Chewie's leash was way too forceful, which made the chariot bump against every possibly surface, and Han mourned every screw and bolt that no doubt would be missing. And the kid was enjoying it! Han mentally wept. Ben's face was illuminated by a toothy grin and his eyes were all wrinkled in pure amusement, to his father's dismay.
By the time they reached their destination, Han had his face covered with his hands in an attempt to block out the disaster unfolding at their arrival. It was enough to hear all the commotion around them, he did not need to see the vases breaking and the people crashing into each other as they flee from the furious ball of destruction that Ben had turned the Falcon into.
Han didn't realize he had been holding his breath until he felt the chariot come to an abrupt stop. He gingerly removed his hands from his face and dreaded the scene that awaited him, but thankfully they were engulfed in a thick cloud of dust from their harsh landing so he couldn't really see.
“Oh, come on, dad! That wasn't so bad, was it?” Ben's tone was so carefree that Han was simply astonished by his kid's cheek. Although he shouldn’t have been surprised at all. He was his father's son after all.
“Bad!” Han replied as he willed his aching bones to step down from the chariot. “You're lucky that Chewie hasn't run away in terror, son!”
“Come on, old man!” Ben joked as he patted Han's back in an attempt to comfort him. “No one died”
Well that's because we're gods, son, not because of your gracious piloting, Han wanted to say but refrained.
In all of Ben's eighteen years of age, he had honored his promise of keeping Ben away from all the chaos surrounding their clan. He had become so adept in his power already, that it was getting complicated for Han to keep justifying his abilities on anything other than his bloodline. That had gotten them into pretty nasty fights, with Ben accusing Han of keeping some truth from him, to which Han replied with silent treatments and neglect. It created a void between them—one that was slowly filling with resentment and mistrust—but Han didn't know how else to ward off the subject. He had never been good communicating and it was painful to be pushing his son away because of his own issues. Still, they had more good days than bad, and Ben's birthday just happened to be one of the good ones. Except, of course, for their near death experience due to Ben's disastrous riding.
With an exaggerated sigh, Han tenderly guided his son to the back of the chariot where the goods were stacked. “Just help me get this stuff to the buyers and then wait-“
“-Wait by the Falcon...” Ben completed Han's usual phrase with a roll of his eyes, “I know”
Han shot him a stern look but could not remain mad at his son; his soft, brown eyes were a talisman against Han's bad temper, so he gestured for him to lean down (Ben had grown up so tall already, it was incredible how he doubled his height) so that Han could lovingly kiss his forehead before continuing with the day's job.
Once Ben was done helping Han, he delayed his father's orders by going for a walk around the little villa before returning to their chariot. He strolled through the many, beautifully erected pillars and structures, wide-eyed in amazement by the magnificent architecture, even for such a tiny place. That was his favorite pastime while waiting for his father to finish up his businesses—to bask in the gorgeous scenery anywhere they went.
With a deep breath, he closed his eyes and imagined taking up the falcon and flying to a distant land. Somewhere above in the clouds where he could disappear and be happy, forever caressed by the soft cotton and light breeze that one could find up there, in an undiscovered kingdom with structures just as magnificent as the ones from the villa.
He was pulled from his thoughts by a painful jab in the head that made him brusquely stagger in place. He had been so immersed in his fantasies that he hadn’t heard that someone had yelled, “Watch out!”
He looked down to see that the object that had hit him was a worn out, oval disk. He picked it up just in time to see the same three jerks that always picked up on him whenever he’d come here. He didn’t even know their names but had already memorized the long repertoire of insults that they threw at him all the time—most of them involving his over-sized ears and spotted face. I have normal ears, thank you very much. They’re just proportional to the size of my nose, is all…Nevertheless, that recurrent jab had had him growing out his black curls, long enough to cover his most hated feature.
No matter how much he loathed those three, some tiny part of him still longed to fit in with them. They were the only guys he knew that were close to his age, and Ben didn’t have any friends whatsoever back in Chandrilla. And these guys were perfect looking, too. Tanned and muscled, blonde and bright eyed. Ben looked nothing like them. He was paler and taller than all three of them, and while he was fit, he was too long-limbed and awkward. In fact, everything about him seemed to be simply that: too big and not at all graceful. But today was his birthday, and he was not going to let his own insecurities, nor these kids, ruin his day. He armed himself with patience and kindly asked, “Hey, you guys need another player?”
“Uh…well…” the one with the longer hair replied. He was also the most handsome, Ben noted, but he didn’t wish to dwell on that thought at the moment. “You see, we’re already…five! And we need an even number to play!”
He might’ve been the most handsome, but he was certainly the dumbest. “But five is not an even num-“ Ben wasn’t even finished talking when the guy harshly grabbed the disk from Ben’s hand and pushed him back so hard that he fell to the ground—scraping his hands and legs on the coarse sand. They ran away, laughing and chanting their usual mockery.
“What a jerk!” was the last thing Ben heard from the distance.
Honestly, why do I even try?
Ben hugged his knees to his chest while remaining sited on the dirt. Utter devastation washed over him, even when he had already known that those guys were no good. What was I expecting? He thought to himself, over and over. But he wouldn’t cry. He was stronger than that, or so he wanted to think.
He lifted his gaze to see that his once pristine tunic was now dirtied from curling at the floor; he was covered in grime and sweat overall, and his eyes were puffy and wet from the insistent tears that he fought to control. He was a whole mess. But in a quick flash of strength, he got up, dusted himself off and started his way back to the Falcon and Chewie. With slumped shoulders in defeat, no less.
He was midway to his destination when a quick swoosh of an object flew past him. Yells that spelled, “Catch it!” and “Watch out!” were overheard in the distance but Ben could only focus on the same damn disk that had hit him before. Like a magnet, he was drawn to it—determined, all of a sudden, to catch it and throw it back against the assholes that had ruined his day. He calmly took a few steps forward, not minding for a second how far ahead from him the disk already was in the air. He extended an arm and as if it was being pulled by an invisible string, the disk came flying back straight to his opened palm. The eyes of all three of them looked as wide as plates in surprise at what they had just witnessed. It was supernatural.
That was a power that Ben was weary to test out, for it was against his father’s wishes. He didn’t understand why or how he had it. Or what it even was. But when his impulses got the best of him, this—thing, this ability—would be at his disposition, ready for him to exploit it however he wished. Sometimes he willed it, sometimes it would just manifest naturally in response to his feelings. But it was something that surrounded him—that vibrated in nature but ricocheted against his soul. It felt like possessing a deeper knowledge of the atmosphere around him, which allowed him to mold it and bend it to his desire.
He stared back at his bullies—lips pulled into a cocky smirk. Make funny of me now, I dare you. He concentrated all his hatred and resentment into the disk as if he was charging it—like a lightning bolt would do to a tree—and threw the object back at them as potently as he could.
It all happened too quickly. So quickly that the absolute dread settling on the pit of his stomach registered too late. The disk had flown past his targets and landed so strongly against one of the pillars that it had cracked it.
As if in slow-motion, Ben watched how each structure started crumbling down in ruins, one against the other, matter exploding into detritus and tainting the air like bombs. He heard the cries of horror of everyone running for their lives, muted and distorted like hearing sound underwater. He was mesmerized. Only when he found himself right in front of one of the collapsing pillars did he realize that he had to get out of there.
He ran and got the spot where they had left the Falcon and shielded himself while hugging Chewie close to him. His father was nowhere in sight, and he could only pray to the gods that he was safe—but anxiety was eating up at him, when he looked up from the disaster and couldn’t see a sign of his father among the atrocious wreck. It was all gone; looked as if a mythical giant had come and smashed the whole place into pieces.
The ghastly silence afterwards seemed eternal. No one could assimilate how it all had happened. Until a voice broke out in accusation. “It was him! That Solo freak, he did this!”
Ben knew it was one of the three bullies but his senses were overwhelming. All at once, he was painfully attuned to the hostility and repulsion of every single member of the village, aimed towards him.
“Freak! Monster! What a disgrace! You repulse us!”
His father’s soothing voice breaking through the course of offenses was the sweetest comfort in that moment. “Stop!” Han yelled, “Leave the kid alone, this wasn’t his fault!”
“We saw him! He did this, he broke the pillar with his strength!” one of his bullies yelled back.
“Yeah, Solo, your kid is a FREAK! ” Everyone joined to express their outrage at once, in merciless claims and offensive jabs. “He’s a MENACE! He’s too dangerous to be around NORMAL people!”
And indeed, this hadn’t been new on Ben’s part. This town had been witness to Ben’s flair for destruction before, when he was younger and less in control of his powers. But this was something else. And Han was at a loss on how to alleviate the damage.
The chubby, old man that had owned the ceramic vase shop came to Han and directly confronted him, “This was the last straw, Solo!” He pushed Han and angrily stepped back to gather the shattered remains of his vases.
“He didn’t mean any harm, he’s just a kid…he can’t control his strength”
“I’m warning you!” the man of the vases continued, “You keep that-that FREAK away from us!”
Han was stupefied—unable to react to the dismal chorus of insults being shouted over and over again at his son. All he could do was stare at the floor in defeat, while his heart stung with sorrow.
When he looked up it was too late. Ben was already running away from the tumult.
Han might not have been as able with the Force as the rest of the Skywalkers, but he was in perfect harmony with his son’s feelings.
Sadness and self-hatred radiated from him even from miles apart. He gave him some space, knowing full well how Ben needed the time to meditate and clear his head to be able to pull himself back up. So he took his time tending Chewie and preparing the Falcon, before following Ben into the hills he had disappeared to.
—
Ben’s throat ached with the remaining hiccups of his cries, so much that even gulping down hurt. His heart was too heavy in his chest and his body had gone limp with defeat. He had been crying for hours, alone at the top of a hill. The sun was about to set and the wind had cooled off the wet trails on his cheeks. The aroma of the various plants all around him was soothing, but not as much as the sudden warm touch of his father’s palm against his back. He didn’t even notice when he’d arrived, for he had been curled in on himself, but he was immensely thankful. Ben was so embarrassed. He had turned eighteen, he was no longer a little kid who cried out his feelings, to be comforted afterwards by his father. But as Han’s arm brought him closer to snuggle against his him, he felt de-aged and tiny. He liked being alone—he needed it. But it never beat the company of a loved one, when at his weakest.
As he sank in his father’s embrace, his eyes burned with another bout of tears and choked, lungfuls of breath. “Son” Han carefully started. “You shouldn’t let those things they said back there get to you”
“But dad, they’re right!” he broke from his father’s hold to look him dead in the eye and dare him to tell him otherwise. “I am a freak! I try to fit in, I really do, but…I just can’t”
Ben got up and went to the edge of the hill to see the very proof of that statement, in the form of the destroyed landscape beneath him. Something in the cool air flew around him and made him lift his gaze up to the sky. He saw beyond the mess to find the vast nature—the sky that was now painted in hues of pink, orange and purple, the clouds that looked like the softest pillows, the birds singing all around him, the smell of the fresh greenery. His heart started drumming with a fondness rooted deep in his very core, followed by an intense feeling of loneliness. “Sometimes…” Ben whispered, eyes still glued up above. “Sometimes I feel like I don’t belong here. I feel like I’m supposed to be someplace else…”
The energy around them sung. Han could feel it too. “Ben, Son…” he started calculating on how to break the secret to him, but Ben shrugged him off.
“I know it doesn’t make any sense” Ben sighed, and left Han to go walk around by himself.
Han closed his eyes and reached out to Leia with his thoughts, begging her to help.
It was time. It had arrived too soon. It was bittersweet, to see the form of his son, so mature and handsome. So strong, in every sense of the word, even if he didn’t realize it. And yet in the slouch of his shoulders hid the boy that begged Han to mount him on his shoulders to pretend he was flying, the boy that glued himself to his side when meeting new people because he was too shy.
That night, Han would tell him the truth. And the beginning of the rest of his son’s life would begin.
---
Ben lost track of time as he aimlessly wandered around the shoreline, the forests. He watched the sun setting from the edge of a cliff and basked in the energy that the star seemed to grant him for solace—so calming, as if he was actually the child of the sun itself. Such a silly notion, but so believable.
He stood tall and straight at the cliff’s edge, imagining the feeling of coming home, welcomed by proud cheers at the mere sight of his face. He imagined being held and cherished in the arms of a loved one—imagined them being as fiery as the sun’s rays, a perfect match for his own ardent soul. Or maybe they’d have constellations on their skin, just like I do, Ben thought as he looked up at the stars, now clearer than ever as the moon began to creep in. Or maybe their skin would be as luminous as moonlight.
When he was calmer, he returned to his house and curiously noted that his father was waiting for him by the front door, bathed in the warm light from inside.
“Son” Han started. “There’s something I need to tell you”
Han guided him inside and they both sat in front of the hearth—the fire warming their home, creating a cozy environment, suited for what was about to transpire between them. Han gingerly took hold of Ben’s palm in his own, squeezing it once. Then, with a great intake of breath, he began.
“Ben…remember the bedtime stories I used to tell you when you were younger?”
Ben nodded. He fondly recalled those wonderful tales. About a brave princess who fell in love with a scoundrel pirate, while she was in disguise as a knight to fight for her kingdom. The ones about the young apprentice of the most powerful wizard on earth, who then turned out to be the wizard’s son. Sometimes the stories would crossover, and the wizard’s son would turn out to be the princess’ brother.
Sometimes, Ben would blame his father’s imagination for originating his escapism—his daydreaming, his longing to be somewhere as magical as the places that Han spoke about.
“Well…what about the stories you’ve read on your books? The ones about the Gods of Naboo, the Skywalkers? Remember those?”
“A bit, yeah” He barely remembered, though. He was about eight or nine years old when he came across that book in one of their journeys—dusty and worn, lying forgotten at an abandoned library. He had been so entranced by those myths—of Anakin, his twin children and the rest of the Gods of Naboo. He had quickly devoured the whole tome in one sitting before losing it. The book had just simply disappeared somehow, and he never really went looking for it again. Thus the remnants of those stories were hazy in his memory, but what was never forgotten was the immense happiness he had felt when immersed in that mythological world.
Han’s earnest gaze searched his son’s, “They’re all true, son”
“What!?”
“They’re real, all of them. The stories I’ve told you, they’re but a mere interpretation—a deviation from the truth. The ones from the book are more accurate. They told our history”
“What are you on about!?” In his eyes, Han could see that Ben was getting angry—mad at his father for playing some sort of bad joke on him to alleviate the events from earlier. But Han had to prove it to him. So he took off the necklace that was hidden beneath his tunic and firmly placed it on Ben’s palm. He wrapped both of his hands around Ben’s closed fist, mimicking the same ceremonious gesture that Leia had done, eighteen years ago.
“Your mother wanted you to have this”
The pendant was heavy in Ben’s hold and he was torn between its weight on his palm and the information that Han was passing on to him. His mother?
“Leia , wanted you to have this”
Leia Skywalker
As soon as Ben thought it, the flames from the hearth started dancing differently. As in affirmation, perhaps…it had to be a trick from his tired vision, surely.
“Dad, what…what is this?”
He lifted the pendant to admire it up close and saw a beautiful, lucent stone dangling from the silver collar.
“It’s a kyber crystal. It’s the source that powers the Jedi Knight’s weapons. Your mother gave it to you, knowing what laid in your destiny. She gave it to you, on the night you and I parted from Naboo to come live here. It’s quite a long story”
So Han spent all night retelling the story of their family. From the very birth of the world and Anakin’s quests, to the day he and Leia met, up until the tragic end, when they had been forced to part from their home in order to seek shelter for the powerful newborn that had already shaken the interest of other devious entities.
“S-so…so what you’re saying is…I’m…I can’t be, dad. No way. What you mean to tell me is that I’m…I’m… a god!?” In a way, it all made sense. Still, to say that Ben was shocked, was to say the least.
“You’re a Skywalker, son. You have to understand why I kept it from you, all this time. Forgive me. I never meant to hurt you by not explaining what you were experiencing. I couldn’t risk your safety. But the time has come for you to know your true heritage—to know your power ”
It took a long while for Ben to digest everything that his father had told him. An endless stream of questions flowed out of his mouth—curiosity now reigning over. Han patiently answered his son’s inquiries, at ease now that Ben was slowly coming to terms with the huge reveal. But sadly he could not respond to everything, for there were questions meant for the wisest of the gods to answer.
It pained Han tremendously, but it was what had to be done. “Go to the temple of Anakin. Trust your senses…let the energy of your kyber crystal guide you, and you shall find your way”
“W-will you go with me? Ben asked timidly—so afraid of how the already wide horizon seemed to expand before him, with ceaseless promises of unexplored roads and wonders ahead.
“I cannot go, my boy. This is something that you must do on your own. Don’t be afraid. You have a whole family looking out from you from the heavens. We’ll accompany you in spirit, through every step of your journey. The Force is strong with us…with you ” After more doubts were cleared, and a warm and pleasant birthday meal had been cooked, father and son embraced throughout the night, one last time.
Ben left the next day, before the break of dawn. Han placed a thick, knitted quilt over his son’s shoulders and tightly hugged him, reluctant to separate from his beloved companion of adventure, his most treasured accomplice—his son. He stared into those kind, brown eyes—wide with a mix of nervousness, anticipation and excitement. The next time he’d see those eyes, they’d be gleaming with gold tones, reflecting Naboo's majestic lights, no doubt. He’d be a hero.
“Take Chewie with you. He can be more useful than you’d think.” He got close to whisper in Ben’s ear, “Should you wish to, you know…take a break from walking, just tap him on his hind legs” he said, finishing with an impish little wink of an eye and a knowing smirk.
“Alright dad” Ben laughed, “Wish me luck. Take care”
“May the force be with you, son”
And off Ben went, to the temple of his grandfather, Anakin Skywalker.
—
Ben was certainly not in Chandrilla anymore. It had been the longest of journeys, but he had safely arrived to his destination. Although not necessarily in one piece. Ben was sure, that if he took out his sandals he would find his soles, bloodstained and blistered. His body was wrecked; every last inch of his body ached terribly, and flexing up his knees with every step up the temple’s crepidoma was absolute torture.
Sometime along the way, Ben had tested the veracity of Han’s advice and was pleasantly surprised to find out it was true. It was incredible! Chewie could actually fly! And when Ben thought about it, it all seemed to add up to the puzzle that was his life. Chewie must have been the one that flew them all the way from Naboo, down to Chandrilla, without a doubt. No wonder he would often dream of taking the Falcon and flying it. His dreams must have been just echoes of the life that belonged to him, all this time.
So Chewie flew them through the very last stretch of the journey—guiding them to the top of the Mountain of Tatooine, where Anakin’s temple stood grand and imposing, even when camouflaged by nighttime. He adored Chewie but he had never been so thankful for him than in that moment—he was sure that he wouldn’t have been able to climb that enormous hill when all of his joints were on fire.
He cautiously regarded the entrance while Chewie remained down the steps. The place was immense—he was at a loss for words. He felt so ridiculously puny inside the colossal structure—with its epic, stone columns and its beautifully built tympanum at the top, where one could see Anakin’s figure and key elements, sculpted in low-relief technique. But his veins sang and his breath escaped him when, the minute he stepped inside, flames from the series of candles adorning each side of the temple were suddenly alight on their own, revealing the gargantuan monument erected at the very center. There, in all his might, stood the figure of the eldest Skywalker.
Ben bowed before the statue, clutching his soft quilt closer to him to stop his shivering—due in equal parts out of nervousness and the freezing cold.
“Oh, mighty Anakin” he closed his eyes and began to pray. “Head of the Skywalker clan. Grandfather…”
“I’ve come before you to seek answers. All my life, I’ve sensed it. The pull of the Force. Show me. And I will let nothing stand in my way, I shall bring honor to my family.”
For a dragging moment, he didn’t feel any change in the air at all. His heart was erratically pounding, loudly enough to echo all around the temple. He held on to his quilt tighter—desperately seeking the lingering scent of his father for comfort. “Grandfather” he whispered one last time.
Nothing.
Tense silence all around the temple.
“There’s no need to address me so formally, my boy” spoke a voice out of nowhere, startling the living daylights out of Ben. He tentatively lifted his gaze to see a figure creeping beside him, but not as tall as its monument. It was a spirit, with a blueish sort of glow emanating from him. The spirit of his grandfather—conjured up by the will of the Force.
“G-grandfather?”
The force ghost kindly nodded. “Rise up, my boy. As I said, no need for formalities”
Ben stood up and was surprised to be at eye-level with the ghost of his grandfather—he had imagined this sort of great, gigantic figure when he thought of him. And Ben was even more surprised to see his features in detail; he had imagined some corpulent, old god—bearded and ancient. Yet while his grandfather was indeed old, he looked incredibly healthy—with not as many wrinkles as he might’ve thought. He had a scar that went up from his eyebrow and bags under his eyes; also, his shoulder-length, wavy hair was of a nice gradient of grey and white, (or so it looked like, given the colored glow that showered his figure). He had pictured him with a flamboyant wardrobe, too, but in reality he simply wore a light-colored tunic, covered by a darker and thicker robe.
Anakin gave off an air of timeless wisdom, as well as a curious and excited marvel at meeting his grandson at last.
“Look at you” Anakin exhaled. He tenderly placed his fingers under Ben’s chin to lift his shy gaze up to his (although Ben couldn’t actually feel the touch of flesh, but a cool sensation instead) “Such a handsome young man”
Ben was plain speechless. He had never considered himself to be handsome, especially after having endured countless remarks about his awkward features over the years. But his grandfather’s tone held nothing but sincerity in it, and Ben’s chest contracted with the need to weep in gratitude.
“There's no doubt that you’re Han’s son. You’re the spitting image of your father. But bigger!” the ghost lightheartedly laughed. “But these eyes…” he delicately placed his entire palm on Ben’s cheek, “You have your mother’s eyes. So firm and expressive, what a combination indeed. My Ben, how I’m glad that you’ve finally come”
“Grandfather” he trembled in his speech—overcome by the moment, by his grandfather’s endearments. This was still so, so surreal. “Am I home?”
“Not yet, my boy. Come” and Anakin guided Ben to sit at the low bench that faced his monument. “Tell me all. I’ve been waiting to finally talk with you”
And so Ben poured out his heart for Anakin. Ben told him everything, from his younger years up until recent events. He told Anakin how Han had confessed what transpired on the night they escaped from Naboo. How his father had told him of this evil being that intruded their home and fought against his uncle. How that creature had wanted to snatch Ben away from his family.
Ben confided his deepest feelings to his grandfather, knowing well that they would be kept safe with him: How he had always felt like he didn’t belong, but hadn’t known, up until know, of why that was. How he sometimes felt so angry because of that, that it drove him to misuse his powers recklessly. How he longed to feel welcomed and loved. How afraid he was, at that very moment, to be away from home and on the very edge of jumping into an unknown territory, all in search of his higher calling. How scared he was, to discover that there was evil lurking from the shadows, waiting to capture him.
Anakin listened to all of his grandson’s troubles with utmost patience. A long silence passed while Anakin considered his words carefully.
“Your mother was very wise when she let you go that night. It was all for your protection, but you have to know that we have missed you so much, and we’re so proud of you. But our fight against the dark side is just beginning again. No matter what we did in the past, evil is reborn.”
“We’re older now. We are not as agile as we once were. And Snoke won’t stop until he gets what he wants. You have to fight alongside us. It’s in your destiny. The prophecy says that the youngest Skywalker shall restore peace to the galaxy again. It is time, Ben. That you begin your training, so that you’re ready”
It suddenly felt as if he had swallowed a ton of bricks—as if his grandfather had personally dug his heart out of his chest. His ears were ringing and his pulse was off the charts. The sudden weight dropped onto his lap was overwhelming, to say the least.
“M-my training? ”
“To become a Jedi Knight. Our own brand of fighters, of guardians of the peace. And you’ve already got your kyber crystal!”
“Once you succeed, my child, you shall return home”
He sounds way too chill to be talking about such significant information , Ben thought.
“But grandfather, I...I can’t. I’m-”
“Hush! That is nonsense. Don’t ever doubt yourself again. You’re destined for greatness”
Anakin gently fondled the side of Ben’s face—from his soft curls, to his cheek. He regarded him sternly, but kindly. Ben could not detect an ounce of uncertainty in his grandfather, which made him just a tad more assured.
But this was his family. He had been begging for answers for so long, and now he had them. Now he had a road ahead of him. The only thing left was to believe , and to do .
“How would I even start?” Ben asked, still a bit incredulous. But Anakin just smiled knowingly.
“Go to the island of Ahch-To. There, you will meet your uncle, Luke. He knew as well as your mother that this day would come, and he has been waiting for you all along. He retired there to perfect his skills, to become a better teacher for you. Learn all you can. Listen to your master”
Uncle Luke
He knew him. He knew him from his dreams. He had felt his presence in the distance, like a silent guardian, observing him from afar. Sometimes he’d protect him from the monsters that creeped up in his nightmares.
The wizard’s apprentice. Of course.
“Thank you, grandfather. I will not let you down”
“Go, my child. May the Force be with you”
One by one, each flame vanished, and soon the ghost of his grandfather faded into the air—into the force.
In silence, he closed his eyes and meditated. One last time, he asked his family for strength before exiting the temple. Atop the steps, he watched the starry horizon and breathed in the fresh air from the hills. The sight of a shooting star quickly soaring through the night, entranced him. He was sure now, that someone was watching over him. He felt reawakened.