How could faith be so cruel? So cruel as to guide him in the direction of a woman that would never stand readily by his side. So cruel to leave him lusting after a life with her to be led far from the autocracy and lies of the First order and further still from the last remnants of his family that had been so quick to leave him in the dust of their power. Ben Solo should have belonged among the greats of the Skywalker dynasty. His rage and confusion betrayed him, but no more so than his mother's temper or his father's moral confliction. It was the power that scared them. Luke Skywalker was paled in comparison to Ben. The galaxy had been so starved of force sensitivity that when a young pilot executed some impressive manoeuvres and survived a battle with the empire's finest warrior they believed that he was some kind of deity. Luke Skywalker was revered. Adored by the masses.
But he was no match for his nephew. And that scared him.
Fear was all Ben Solo ever knew.
His whole existence had been a slow decline from happiness into the shadows of despair. Lacking the love of his father and the attention of his mother, holding on only to the expectations of everyone that he should be the next all-powerful Jedi Knight. That he would grow to graduate from being his loathsome uncle's apprentice into a tutor himself, guiding the next generation of force sensitives.
This was not his path.
Ben Solo would have given anything to go stumbling across the galaxy in the company of his scoundrel father. He would dream up wondrous adventures wherein the Millennium Falcon descends from the night sky above Luke's unfinished temple to save him from the monotony of his training. His father would appear from the ship's hull and call his name, telling him to hurry as he didn't have all day. They had beasts to capture, businessmen to swindle and most importantly he needed Ben's help, he needed a force user.
Because Han Solo feared his son. There wasn't a moment in his life where Ben Solo had not felt the subtle waves of anxiety coming from his father, in everything they did together. So much so that Ben did his best to stifle his sensitivity to the Force when around his father, and soon after he tried to subdue it altogether. Perhaps then, if they believed he had no real power, then they would leave him alone.
Staring out into the vastness of space, into the mighty empire he had stolen for himself, Kylo Ren pondered on when exactly he had turned.
Turned was such an awful term for the transition through goodness to bad, darkness to light. One did not simply turn. There was no singular event in his childhood that had started him down this path to the darkness. Despite his outward denial of it he knew that for the longest of times he believed himself to be truly altruistic in his intentions. Actions that were deemed dangerous, worrying or violent in his youth were simply mistakes, poorly executed ideas and in some cases the force just exploded out of him like a detonation had gone off somewhere in his head that triggered the damage often caused by these outbursts.
No, he had never turned. Ben Solo became Kylo Ren when existing as himself in the role he was in became impossible. He could not lead his knights as a Solo, the order demanded a new persona be created for their fearless warrior. Like his grandfather before him he became something of a creature, not a person.
Creature. Her words still ricochet around his head when he was weak enough to let her voice fill his thoughts. How she had feared him when he pursued her then utterly despised him when he questioned her. Nevertheless, he was gentle with her. In Rey he found some commonality. She was as lost and broken by the world as he had been before joining Snoke, but it had yet to disappoint her in the way it had him. Perhaps it never would, her expectations were already so low of people that when shown even an ounce of kindness she responded with love and complete devotion. If only his father hadn't gotten to her first. She adored Han Solo, for no reason other than he was nice to her.
It was a shame niceness had never really been Ben's forte.
Sunlight. It was the brightest of days when Ben Solo claimed his first victim.
He was eight years old.
