"His descent was like nightfall."
― Homer, The Iliad
Ch 3:
Deference
Rey's hazel eyes bounced back and forth from Poe to Finn and back again. "So, let me get this straight…you smuggled him onto the Falcon in the dead of night without Snoke's knowledge or permission…and Leia let you both live to tell about it?" She flopped back onto the tasseled cushions arranged on the tile of Poe's balcony overlooking the rose gardens. "I always miss the good stuff."
A sense of calm washed over her. How many endless nights had been spent this way? Lying on the silk cushions, staring up at the stars, laying bare her innermost thoughts to her adoptive brother. Now, there was three of them. Rey had always known that one day she'd have to share Poe…the day had come quicker than expected but she already liked Finn. He was the calm to Poe's storm.
"Leia would've killed us…but we brought an insurance policy." Said Poe, absently rubbing his cheek.
"Which was?" Rey pushed up onto her elbows to look at them.
"Snoke had a map to Lost City," said Finn. "One of Jedah's Captains was captured a few months back and Snoke tortured it out of him. I found out about it in passing. Didn't think much of it until the Summit."
Rey's face turned serious. "Gods…what was he planning to do with it?"
Neither answered. They didn't need to. He was planning to conquer Lost City and probably Jedha too.
"I guess we should be thanking you then, Finn. It was brave of you, leaving like that."
"I like to think my abs played a small role in it." Said Poe lounging theatrically against his own cushions.
Finn blushed and Rey felt her own cheeks grow hot. "Watch your tongue, Champion. I'm a priestess now." Rey tossed a grape at Poe's forehead. He tilted his head just in time to catch it in his mouth which warped into a salacious grin.
Poe waggled his dark brows as he chewed the grape. "How you chose a life of celibacy, I will never know. I blame inexperience. If you knew what you were missing you wouldn't be so quick to give it up."
"Why did you choose the Jedi Order? If you don't mind my asking," said Finn.
Rey picked at the hem of her white robes. "I can't explain it really. I've always felt this pull to honor the gods and serve them. I never had a family…until I came here, of course. All I ever had was myself. No one to talk to. No physical contact of any kind. Growing up without that…I knew it was something I wouldn't miss if I took the oath. The love of the Gods is enough for me. It is more than I had as a child."
"That is the most depressing thing I have ever heard," said Finn, only half teasing.
Poe tossed another grape into his mouth. "I think that you just haven't found the right man yet. There's no shame in changing your mind you know?"
"Well, I've seen all that Jedha has to offer and I can confidently say…no, thank-you."
"Can't say I don't agree with you there," Poe smiled fondly at Finn, interlacing their fingers together. "I had to cross the world to find this one."
"So, when is the wedding?" Rey asked, catching both men off guard. Their eyes widened.
Poe started to say that they hadn't exactly discussed it but his words were cut off by the sound of a dozen drums, thundering down from the watchtowers. Their heads snapped in unison toward the city beyond the balcony.
"What does it mean?" Rey asked, knowing Poe would understand the coded message in the beating drums.
"Invaders." He said gravely.
Kylo sat crosslegged on the deck of the Finalizer. His iron sword lay across his lap. He moved an oiled cloth methodically back and forth across the metal, polishing until he could see his own reflection…and what a reflection it was.
When he caught sight of his dark eyes he saw only death and ruin staring back. Men would sing of his deeds, of his wrath for the rest of time. It was all anyone would remember of Kylo of Ren when he was gone. The man beneath the armor—Ben—would be forgotten to the vortex of time.
The warlord could sense Hux lurking near by, probably worrying his lip between his teeth, desperate to come offer words of consolation. But Kylo wanted none of his coddling. Not today. He'd always known this was his destiny. He'd been waiting for it. Training for it. Envisioning it. Now, destiny had come to claim him and he was ready.
He would face his fate without trepidation.
Jedha came into view on the horizon. They would touch down on the sandy beaches by dawn if the winds held up. A cold breeze blustered by but only his sails seemed to catch it. His ship inched just ahead of the other ships around them, as if the gods themselves were pushing him closer to his fate.
Gods but the sight of his birthplace made him sick. He told himself he was above guilt. He'd done as the gods commanded him to do and in exchange they'd made him a demigod—a warlord who would make the world shudder.
But he was not above guilt.
Seeing the beach where he'd learned to run and swim as a boy made his heart ache. He allowed himself a moment of nostalgia, watching a hawk swoop against the moonlight before touching down in the sand. The hawk had something clutched in its talons—a fish of some sort. The hawk released it, letting the fish flop about on the sand before promptly jabbing its beak into its flesh over and over until the flopping stopped and the sand was stained with blood.
This was no homecoming. This was a reckoning. He couldn't afford to forget that.
Kylo looked around at his men. His Knights of Ren were the fiercest he could find. Other soldiers would kill to be invited into his inner fold. But that honor had to be bought and paid for in blood.
The rest of Snoke's armies knew this. Kings from the other kingdoms throughout Greece had sailed to Moraband to rally behind Snoke—each of them with their own ulterior motives. As they'd prepared their ships, Kylo had walked amongst the foreign troops. Whispers followed his every step. Is he really a god? Is he the true Warrior of the Night?
Damn right he was…and he'd prove it to them here and now. If this was to be his final cry into the night—it would be a vicious one. Kylo wouldn't let Jedha come to him. He would dive out and claim his birthright.
He stood and leapt up onto a crate so that he towered over the men scurrying about the deck. He thrust his sword in the air. "Knights of Ren!" He bellowed, "Brothers! Look there—" He pointed the blade toward Jedha as many sets of eyes stopped their tasks to focus on him. He even saw some of the sailors on the nearby vessels turn to watch the scene unfolding on the Finalizer. "Jedha waits and it promises riches beyond our imaginings. You ask if I am a God—the answer is yes, because I choose to be. Immortality waits for all of us on the enemy's shores…it is up to each of you to take it!" The crowd cheered. Kylo felt adrenaline, his constant companion in this life flooding his veins. "Take up the oars and row, brothers! Make the Knights of Ren first to meet the shores! Immortality waits for no man—we must chase it down and capture it!"
A hundred oars emerged from portholes and the Finalizer quickly began to pull ahead of the rest of the fleet. He saw Snoke watching from his own ship, his ancient face an unreadable mask. Kylo gave a theatrical bow to the King of Kings from his perch on the crate. Snoke turned away.
"Well, that was—theatrical," said Phasma as Kylo hopped down and strode toward the bow to watch Jedha's shore come into focus.
"You think history remembers boring old hags like you?" He teased. "You have to put on a show. Light a fire beneath those rumors."
"I don't know. Who can say who will survive the holocaust of memory? I think I shall be famous in my own right…perhaps more-so even than you," she said.
"I'll drink to that," said Hux, who'd had a few already judging by the way he swayed on his feet.
Poe set about strapping on his armor from the stand. Breastplate, grieves, helmet. Finn was pacing the room, unsure how to be helpful. Rey could not tear her eyes from the horizon. Had she really been foolish enough to hope that Snoke would let Finn go without a fight? It seemed so much trouble to cross an ocean for one man. Yet, here they were…and the drums beat on.
She knew she should be angry with Poe for inviting the enemy to their shores…but she just couldn't find it in her. He was in love. Was it so wrong that two people in love should fight to be together—no matter the cost?
The romantic girl in her said no, it was not wrong.
But the pragmatic woman in her, the woman who had survived slavery only to rise above it said yes, it was wrong.
Love was not worth this.
The happiness of two people—even of her foster brother whom she loved more dearly than any who walked the earth—was not worth the lives of millions.
She hadn't heard Leia storm in, but there she and a fully-armored Han stood, conferring with Poe and Finn.
"I'm not helpless. I will fight with you," Finn insisted. "Why do you think Snoke kept me so close. I am one of his best archers."
"No," said Leia, arms folded across her chest, "You are too valuable to die in a petty skirmish. If we have any hope of ending this war—it rides on your continued survival."
Finn was about to argue but he was silenced by Han. "I hate to say it because we could use all the warriors we can get…but the Princess is right. Snoke will want you alive."
"You are not ransoming my—my—Finn," Poe shouted.
"Who said anything about ransom?" Said Han.
"I know what you're thinking and I'll not agree to it," said Poe.
Leia frowned at both of them. "Enough! Finn is staying in the palace. Poe and Han will ride out and lead the counter-attacks. I will send an emissary to my brother. We will need him back before this war breaks out in full. Any questions?" She waited. No one spoke. "Good. Now move!"
The group seemed to have forgotten Rey. They dispersed to carry out the princess's orders without so much as a goodbye. Rey didn't mind. She had her own plans.
It was easy enough to slip out of the palace in the chaos. The city was a bit more difficult to navigate but she managed. Soon, she was out of breath and stumbling up the hill to the Sun God's temple just as the sun appeared above the horizon.
"Master Kenobi!" Her voice echoed off the austere stone walls.
The elderly priest emerged from a side room, eyes bloodshot, white hair askew. "What is it child?"
"The Achaeans have come. We must leave the temple. You have to get inside the walls of the city."
Master Kenobi's brows pressed together. "Why have they come here?"
"For war," she said, not caring to elaborate considering the current circumstances.
He said nothing. Instead, he tottered over to the altar and set about lighting candles.
"What are you doing?" Rey asked. "Did you not hear me? We have to leave."
"The Greeks will not desecrate a holy place. We are safe here. Come help me, child. We must ask for the Sun God's blessings in this coming war."
Rey grit her teeth but nodded. What he said was true. Any man who would harm a priest on hallowed ground was an abomination that Rey didn't believe could exist. All the same, she made sure that her bow staff was in arm's reach as she set about lighting candles and chanting with her master.
They reached the beaches as the first Greek ships touched down. Armored men oozed out of the hull like swarms of ants. They cut across the beach at a run, spears, swords and arrows at the ready.
Han and Poe each led their own legions into the fray. Poe's forces charged to the beaches while Han's stayed on the perimeter, firing arrows and catapulting fireballs at the advancing troops.
The first wave of Greeks broke through the front lines. Han watched a small group in dark armor with crescent moons painted on their helmets, headed up toward the Sun God's temple at the top of the hill overlooking the beach. Rey's temple. Thank the gods she was safe in the palace.
Han tugged at the reins and his chariot charged up toward the temple. Others might've been comforted by the belief that no man would harm a priest in their sacred place…but Han had spent the better part of his life as a pirate. He knew the darker side of humanity—the side brought out by war and greed. He saw it in the eyes of each Greek he struck down as he charged the hill. The madness. The bloodlust. He would never reach the temple in time.
Then, he stopped. All thoughts of the temple lost to sheer awe as he watched a beast of a man charging toward the temple. The man's fair skin shone in the early dawn, in sharp contrast to his dark bronze armor. His legs, visible beneath the short tunic of his armor were cut from marble, impossibly strong. He watched as the man threw a spear at a Jedhan at least thirty kilometers off. It whizzed through the air finding purchase in the Jedhan soldier's eye socket. It was an impossible throw—and yet Han had just watched it with his own eyes.
He knew then, without needing to be told that this was the Warrior of the Night—Kylo Ren. Word of his conquests in battle had reached across the world, even as far as Jedha.
Han followed the demigod into the temple, his battle plans overtaken by curiosity. His sense returned to him as he entered the temple. Crumpled bodies littered the floor, their white robes stained red. Statues were toppled over, some broken and defaced. The men who'd stormed the temple had already stripped it of its riches and disappeared.
A wheezing sound came from the base of the altar. Han rushed over. He hunched over Master Kenobi's crumpled body. Blood pooled on the priest's lips and his eyes focused on some other plane as he drew his last breaths. The priest was muttering something over and over.
Han had to lean his ear close to make out the words…or rather the word, just one—Rey. Han would've sworn that his heart stopped beating. Rey had been here. Where was she? Was she alive? He stood up, nearly tripping over something lying in the isle…a bow staff. Han picked it up in trembling fingers. No. Why would she have come here? The answer formed before he even finished thinking the question. She came to save her fellow priests…because that's who she was.
He'd have fallen to his knees and wept right there amidst the battle if not for the deep voice that cut through the temple.
"You must be Han of the less-than-noble gens Solo."
Han looked up in time to see a dark figure sweep out the back door.
Han found him on the portico, perched atop a marble plinth that had once displayed a statue of Apollo. Kylo Ren was staring out at the battle, exuding an air of cold satisfaction.
Han drew his sword, "Fight me."
"It is too early in the day for killing royals," said the warlord without turning his eyes from the carnage.
"These priests were unarmed. It sacrilege. Do you care so little for the Gods? Apollo won't stand for this. He is the patron god of Jedha, of the Light. He will protect us from you."
"Where is he then? Why has he not struck me down?"
For that Han had no argument. He believed in the gods only as much as was required of the husband of a royal. He'd personally never seen them, despite his wife's familiarity with them.
Kylo jumped from the plinth and stalked like a giant panther toward Han. "It was my men who killed your priests…I, personally, have not done anything to anger your patron…so don't hold your breath waiting for him to dispense justice."
"There was a priestess—a young girl—she was not amongst the dead. Where is she?"
"Do I look like I keep tabs on sniveling virgins?"
"Why did you come to Jedha? You're not here for Finn."
A gruff laugh that was akin to the sound of chains rattling came from the warlord. "None of us are here for Finn." He turned away from Han, not even concerned that the Jedhan might attack. "Go home to your Princess. Come back when you are prepared to fight me."
Han hesitated, genuinely torn between fleeing and striking from behind. There was no honor in either option…but there was more troubling him than honor alone. There was something familiar about Kylo Ren. His face was obscured by the helmet so he couldn't see anything of his features save for his lips and chin…still, it was in the way he carried himself, the tone of his voice. Something stirred in Han. Something long forgotten.
He ran.