Warning : There is a mention of rape in this chapter (not of the main character) but if this triggers you I would not advise you to read this. Also an out of character luke.

Disclaimer : I believe it is evident, but just in case, I want to express that I do not claim ownership , the star wars franchise.

Italics : Are thoughts and dreams

Bold : will be The force talking, or rather the voice as Luke liked to call it.

Chapter I : These Halcyon Days

Luke was always excited with the prospect of learning. To call him a studious student would be an understatement, he read like it was his religion, his air, and everything keeping him tied to this world. To Luke it was, reading was an anchor, a feeling of comfort. Something he didn't have often anymore because even though there were so many students and people around him he still felt alone.

It was only two months in the academy that he realized he was force sensitive. Something Luke decided he didn't want, he was already outed out as the social pariah and he didn't need another excuse for students to pick on him.

Luke had a sudden realization during one night that he needed to get out, to get away from this academy. Maybe it was the voices he heard telling him, or maybe it was his own thoughts. Sometimes it was hard to differentiate between them. There were no longer any promising things that kept him bound there, he had long since read the entirety of the library and teachers stopped teaching on how to defend but instead started teaching the students how to obey.

Luke had no intention of becoming cannon fodder for the galactic empire, unlike the many students that didn't quite understand what that meant. It meant death without glory, just another lost in a sea of faces.

There were very few times Luke admitted that he regretted leaving the academy. All of those times were when he was pushed up against the wall, a light saber to his neck, or a blaster aimed at his face. Yet in some form or another he always managed to survive. It was a miracle of some sort that he persevered with a small knife at that. Even though he was skilled in combat having a dagger as his only weapon did come at a price, Luke never got away unscathed. He was quick to realize that the people coming after him were getting stronger and he could no longer survive off of the short stubby knife he usually used as his weapon.

It wasn't that much of a surprise anymore when the voices spoke to him. So when they whispered an idea in his ear, to his credit he only slightly flinched. Building a lightsaber sounded absurd, but Luke did have to admit he didn't have the time to steal one, nor did he have the capital to afford one. So it was with a heavy heart and thoughts of death that he started to gather the supplies necessary.

Luke was a prodigy yes, but creating a lightsaber was extremely difficult. He was sure had he not been guided by the voices he would have failed. It took months, weeks, days and hours of his time to create the hilt of his weapon, and an even longer period of time to create the synthetic crystal. But in the end he felt more complete than he had ever felt in his entire life. To him his lightsaber was an extension of himself.

There were many people who had a bone to pick with him. Some sought fortune, others glory, a few handful just wanted retribution. He would strike each and every one down, spilling blood on the concrete as if it were water. But let it not be said the he was a bad guy, he wasn't. He spared a select few, after deeming them innocent. As his bounty flourished his peace diminished. If anything, it seemed as if Luke never had a moment of peace any more.

The voices were driving him crazy, his thoughts were a mile a minute because he had no time to sort them out. Maybe that was why he was currently on his knees. Eyes wild, and back gushing out a steady stream of blood. He fell over slowly, face first, gravity acting against him, his lightsaber faithfully at his side. He knew, he knew they were there how could he not, he saw it minutes before it even happened. His own death. He closed his blue eyes, letting out one last raspy breath. Darkness enveloped him into a tranquil hold.

Goodbye, let us meet again in a better world.

xxxxx

"Hey Uncle, could you tell me another story about my daddy?"

"Sure, Luke ... your father was a brave and noble man, one that came during times of need..."

It hurt... so much, like his nerves were on fire. An inferno spread through his body like a rush of adrenaline. He struggled trying to get out of the bruising grip of his captor. His efforts were met with a kick to the stomach folding him over as easy as if he was a lawn chair. He sobbed, he screamed, he snarled, he tried everything he could to help his aunt and uncle.

To help the woman lying on the floor, legs spread with an unknown man between them, mouth open in a silent sob of agony. To help the man beside him, the one with broken fingers and bruises both hidden and in plain view. To help himself a kid who didn't even know what was going on, forced to watch this sick act. Already on his knees, he prayed, prayed for the father he heard such good things about. A noble man that helps those in need, where was he? ... where was he...?

The men take turns each defiling his aunt and beating what little hope was still there, out of him. His uncle sobbed just as loud, screamed just as loud, and snarled just as loud, perhaps in a hope it would stop. It did eventually, after a long period of torture they spit at the woman thrown on the ground and left. The boy scrambled over to his aunt sobbing over her still form, trying to pick her up and bring her to safety but he was too weak. He was too weak to stop this in the first place, had he not put such trust in his father this would have never happened.

xxxxx

Luke startled awake, his breathing labored, his heart pounding out of his chest. This, this was the reason why he never slept. Why his eyes were now accompanied by dark shadows, and why his hair was always a mess. Most people sorted through their thoughts during their sleep but Luke could not, that's why he meditated. He hadn't had a chance to meditate in awhile. That's probably why I died, Luke reasoned. Wait, died? He looked up turning his head this way and that. He was sure he died, but this wasn't what he thought the after life would be like. Not at all like a calm forest.

- Konoira