A/N: This is my second attempt at writing in this fandom. I know, I know, it's weird. I've been a part of this fandom since around eight years old, and I'm just now writing a second fanfic in this 'verse. Call me weird. :p Anyway, this is from Luke's perspective and was originally intended as him feeling Han's death, but it became a brood- fest. Apologies. Enjoy. :)
Loss
How has everything gone so wrong?
I look out at the grey sea as I have done once everyday for the past six years.
I had revived the Jedi. I had taught them what I had been taught and what I have discovered on my own. I was confident we would survive, that we would be the light of justice that the old Order had been.
Somehow, something went wrong. I guess I had become too proud, too arrogant. I thought nothing could happen to this new Order. I thought, no, believed, that I wasn't making the same mistakes. I couldn't have been more wrong.
I knew that young Ben had the potential for darkness,ce, also, believed he could resist as I did. There's still a slight hope, but not much. Not after what he has done. Not after he killed Han.
I felt it. It was as if something vital had been literally ripped out. Something that was irreplaceable and would never heal. The pain was doubled when I felt Leia's pain. And Chewy's. I felt my own guilt.
I had done this. I had trained Ben. I had shown him how to use his gift. I hadn't seen the obsession he had with Vader's legacy. I only meant for those stories as cautionary tales, not something to aspire to. I was careless.
Ben had destroyed the Jedi. He destroyed his parents' hearts. He murdered his father in cold blood.
I suppose that is the true Skywalker legacy. Our inner darkness. The Force is strong with my family. Whether we have the strength to resist the darkness, however, remains to be seen.
End