Rey tugged at the vines that barred the door. They were like ropes of tempered steel and their thorns cut into her fingers as she struggled to maintain her grip, but still they refused to give way. She pulled back and instead unsheathed her crystal sword. She wedged the blade between the vines and sliced them free with a satisfying crack. Rey stared in amazement as the severed vines shrunk back and retreated between the stones like slithering snakes to reveal the door. It was splintered and warped from its bindings, but still held strong.

Rey slid her blade back into its sheath and grabbed the handle. The chill of the rusted metal bit into her bare fingers. With a bit of force, she was able to pry it open and peer into the darkness of the tower.

Thin slivers of daylight sliced between the stones to illuminate the tower's interior. Shelves lined the circular walls, filled with endless rows of books and strange artifacts. A winding staircase stood in the center of the room, leading up into the darkness above her. Rey stepped closer to the shelves, straining to see in the dim light. She found a bronze statue in the shape of an eagle, a string of glass beads, and a broken vase, among other seemingly unrelated artifacts. They were all caked over with dust and neatly laid out apart from one another, like holy relics on display. Rey kept a respectful distance. Something about them set her on edge. It was as if they each silently called to her in a different voice, some beckoning, and others in warning, telling her to reach out and touch them or leave and never return. There was powerful magic at work here, she could feel it in her bones.

The books that were stored alongside the artifacts were bound in wood and leather, and a few in jewel-encrusted metals. Some featured titles painted or pressed onto the spines, identifying them as various collected histories or instructional volumes. A few piqued her interest, like The Atlas of Constellations, Uses of Corellian Poultices, A Beginner's Guide to Transfiguration—all texts that would see their owner arrested if they were caught by Snoke's men. She was tempted to snatch one from the shelf to read as an act of rebellion.

She jolted from her concentration by the call of a bird echoing through the tower. The sound came from within, judging from the way it echoed up the stone walls. Rey wondered how that was possible. The only openings she saw had been bound shut by the vines and the contents of the shelves showed no signs of being exposed to the harsh elements outside. Perhaps there was an opening she hadn't yet seen that would allow a bird to get in.

As Rey traveled up the stone steps, she noticed that the staircase seemed to go on longer than the tower's height would allow. She wondered if it was merely her imagination, or if the tower itself was imbued with magic. The steps finally came to an end at a wooden door, free of marking or ornamentation. Rey took a deep breath and balled her fists at her sides to keep them from shaking.

Before she could reach for it, the door cracked open of its own volition. Rey jumped at the sound of the rusted hinges grinding open. She nearly lost her footing on the uneven steps but caught her hand on the cool stone of the wall.

"Who are you? What do you want?" a voice came from the darkness.

The speaker stepped forward to peer out, allowing her to faintly make out his features in the dim light. She knew this man. He was no longer the fresh-faced youth of her vision, his inner spark replaced by a mournful weariness, but his eyes were the same clear blue. This was Prince Luke.

Rey took a moment to collect herself before gaining the courage to speak. "Prince Luke?" Her voice came out quieter than she intended. She swallowed the lump in her throat before she continued. "I believe this belongs to you." She unsheathed the crystal sword and presented it to him with both hands, bowing her head in reverence

She lifted her gaze to see his eyes wide and his mouth agape as her stared down at the luminous blade that set azure light dancing across his features. He lifted the sword and turned it in his hand, testing its weight and looking over every surface before looking her over as well. His wary look shifted to one of curiosity.

He slid his ancestral blade into his belt and pushed open the door. "Come. We have much to discuss."

….

Under the canopy of their market stall, Finn sat alongside the other Resistance fighters as they awaited nightfall. He leaned against their display, full of weapons and armor so unreasonably priced that no one would dare to purchase them. At that very moment, a curious passerby was attempting to haggle down the price of an iron hammer but was met with duplicitous charisma as Poe vouched for its supposed merits. Having had their fill of his posturing, they turned up their nose and stomped away, shoving their coin purse back into their pocket.

With no other customers to frighten off, Poe returned to Finn's side. They immediately locked eyes and exchanged amused smiles. Infuriating the day's shoppers was proving to be a welcome distraction from their mission. Poe tugged at the hood of Finn's cloak, which he kept pulled over his head in case he was spotted by anyone from his previous life.

"I can't believe you're still wearing this thing," Poe said with a chuckle. "You could have gotten something much finer while we were in Hosnia. I was certainly glad to be rid of my travel-worn rags." He now wore a vermillion tunic embroidered in gold thread with a pearl white cloak over his shoulders.

"But you gave it to me," Finn said, running his hands over the frayed edge of the fabric. "It must be good luck. I mean, we made it this far, right?"

Poe chuckled and patted his shoulder. "You'll have something better than luck on your side. You'll have me."

"I can't believe we're really doing this," Finn said.

"Just remember that when Snoke is finally defeated, all of this will be worth it. We will finally have peace."

"What do you think will happen once Leia regains power?" Finn asked. "After all that Snoke has done, there will need to be some serious changes made around here. I can't even begin to imagine what that would look like."

"I don't know," Poe said. "But whatever her plans may be, I can assure you that power is not a factor in any of this. She's never spoken once of her throne—only of avenging her son and ending the suffering of her people. Once that is accomplished, we can think about rebuilding."

"Perhaps you will finally be made a knight once Leia is on the throne," Finn said. "You could help to restore the kingdom and then live out the rest of your days in a fief of your own with a sprawling castle, a beautiful wife to govern it, and scores of loyal serfs to tend the land."

Poe stared into the distance and a small smile played on his lips. "I don't know about all that, but being able to proudly serve the crown once more will be reward enough."

Leia came from behind the stall, her face hidden by a hood of her own. "Everything is ready. Finn, is now a good time to leave?"

Finn looked up at the sky. It had taken on a violet haze and the sun hung low in the sky as it wandered toward the horizon. "I think so. Shipments usually come in around now, so we should get moving before our aliases get to the gate before us."

Finn and the others gathered their weapons and followed her behind the shop where the wagons stood waiting. After making certain that no one could see, Leia pulled open the cover at the back end and brought out the white and black armor of the royal army piece by piece. Finn and Poe stripped down to their tunics and breeches before putting on their disguises.

With each grieve and gauntlet, Finn felt like he was binding himself in, returning to the cage he had fled from. This was only a disguise, he reminded himself, taking a deep breath.

"Be careful, you two," Leia said, patting Poe on his grizzled cheek and giving Finn a warm smile. "I can't thank you enough for all that you've done."

"It's my pleasure," Poe said with a small bow.

She then climbed into the back of the wagon to stay hidden with the rest of the Resistance, along with their arms and siege weaponry.

Poe gave Finn a slap on the back. "So, are you ready for this?"

"I don't know, Poe. I don't even have my good luck charm now." Finn lifted an eyebrow and stared down at his armor.

Poe paused, seemingly lost in thought. "I'll do you one better." He said and placed a gentle kiss on Finn's cheek.

Finn froze with his eyes wide and his ears burning.

"For good luck," Poe said with a shrug and a playful grin before sliding on his helmet.

….

Rey followed Luke into the turret room, which smelled of mold and stale herbs. Dried flowers and animal pelts hung from the rafters and piles of books and scrolls were scattered across every surface. The numerous shelves were not orderly as they had been on the stairs but were left to pour their contents onto the dusty floor. Bottles and flasks of various sizes were placed on the center table, some bubbling with mysterious fluids while others were spilled or broken, their contents left to soak into the surrounding piles of parchment. The room was illuminated by candles and lanterns placed about the room with some hanging in the air by no visible support. They had all burned down to flickering stubs and had puddles of melted wax pooling beneath them.

An owl flew from the rafters and came to rest on Luke's shoulder. He didn't even flinch, but instead reached over and petted the bird's feathers, which were a pattern of gray, white, and blue. That must have been the bird that she heard in the stairwell, Rey realized. It circled its head back and gazed at her with one eye open and the other fused shut and chirped at her in greeting.

Luke gathered an armful of indiscernible clutter into his arms and placed it onto a separate teetering pile to reveal a chair hidden underneath. "Please, take a seat," He said.

Rey sunk into the worn cushion of the chair and waited patiently as Luke seated himself across from her. With a wave of his hand, two cups lifted from the center table along with a clay pitcher. He flicked his wrist again and it filled them with an amber liquid. Steam and the smell of cinnamon billowed out of the cups as they floated toward them.

"Cider?" Luke offered, levitating a cup before Rey.

"Yes, I suppose," she said, plucking it from the air. "Thank you."

Luke grabbed the other for himself and took a long sip. In the abundant candlelight, she was able to get a better look at him. He was as unkempt as the room around him, with an overgrown beard and threadbare robes littered with holes and blotted with ink stains along the sleeves.

"Now, will you tell me who are you?" Luke asked. His voice was rough and stilted as if he had forgotten how to hold a conversation.

"Of course, Your Highness. My name is Rey and the reason that I'm here is that the Resistance needs—" She gasped as a tomcat burst out of the pile of parchment, sending it skittering across the floor.

Both his fur and wide, round eyes were the color of marigolds and his left paw was bound in a red bandage. Once he spotted Rey, he padded over to her, flicking his tail and purring, and climbed onto her lap. She lifted her cup out of reach while he adjusted himself in into a furry ball, with his soft head nuzzled against her arm.

The owl flew from Luke's shoulder and came to rest on the arm of Rey's chair. He stared up at her with his glassy, black eye and cocked his head to one side as he looked from her to the tomcat. He made a clicking his silver beak and began flapping his wings. The tomcat sat upright and swatted at the bird with its good paw, eliciting an angry chirp.

"Threepio, give Artoo some space. He can greet our guest too if he likes," Luke said.

Threepio withdrew his paw and twitched his whiskers while Artoo settled himself on his new perch and happily ruffled his feathers.

"I apologize for my unruly familiars," Luke said. "Now, Rey. You are a mage too, correct?"

"I...yes. I am." Rey replied.

"Good, good," Luke said as he stroked his beard with his free hand. "Do you think that you could humor an old man and give me a demonstration? It's been too long since I've seen another mage perform magic."

Rey hesitated for a moment. "I never had any training, so I'm afraid I'm not very good."

"If that were the case, you would have been unable to unsheathe his blade," Luke said. "You may lack formal training, but there is great potential in you. Even without the blade as proof, I could sense it as soon as you stepped on the island." He paused for a long moment as he stared at her longer than was polite

"I don't mean to be rude, but you said we needed to talk," Rey said. "I have news from—"

"Later, later." Luke waved her off. "First I want to see what you can do."

Rey exhaled and nodded politely. "Alright. I suppose I can show you something."

She set aside her cup and moved Threepio out of her lap. After searching the room for a suitable subject, she walked back to where a bundle dried rosemary hung from the rafters and gently brushed her fingers against the brittle needles and shriveled flowers, willing them back to life. She felt the rush of magic coursing through her veins as the pigment returned and lavender buds sprung forth, greeting her nose with their refreshing aroma.

Luke applauded her and Threepio joined in with an excited hoot. When Rey turned back to face him, he had a warm smile spread across his face.

"So you can perform restoration spells, I see. Very impressive,"He said.

"Restoration?" Rey repeated. "I didn't know there was a name for it."

"It is a sort of magic that is focused on healing and rejuvenation. It is a very rare gift, one I'm afraid I don't possess. I can barely manage to heal my papercuts." He lifted his calloused hand for her to see the fine lines running up the length of his fingers, no doubt collected from years of fervent study.

"But you're Luke Skywalker, the great wizard," Rey said. "Surely you'd be able to do something so simple."

Luke shrugged. "Magic manifests itself in different ways for each person. For me, it was always more focused on physical spells, like ones used in combat. Even before I went through my training, I managed some simple spells to steady my aim. When I was a boy, we had these enormous rats on my farm that would always steal grain and pester poor Threepio. Even in his prime, Threepio was a useless hunter, so I had to deal with them myself. I could hit the rats straight through their eyes from over a hundred paces away." He chuckled at the memory.

"Is that how you managed to say Deathstar the dragon?"

Luke nodded. "Yes, that was indeed magic. Just a simple enchantment on the arrow and bow, ensuring my aim and allowing me to pierce his stone hide. We all have our specialty, it may take time to cultivate it, but you seem to be off to a good start"

Rey thought back to Ren and his distinctive ashes and mental tricks. That must be his specialty, she decided. She still felt him at the edge of her mind, emanating a sense of yearning, bordering on desperation. He must he nearing his goal, she thought.

Luke's eyes went wide. "I have an idea. Threepio cut his leg on a shard of glass the other day," he pointed to Threepio who let out a high-pitched mewl as if he knew he was being discussed, "so why don't you try to heal it."

Rey looked down at Threepio's bandaged leg and bit her lip. "I don't know. I've never done anything with animals before."

"Just give it a try. Return it to its proper form, just like the flowers," Luke said.

She took a deep but shaky breath before lifting Threepio's paw in her hand. She felt herself pouring life back into his damaged flesh as she willed it to heal. After the hum of the magic faded, she slowly unwound the bandage to reveal a hairless patch of skin, pink and fresh with no sign of injury. Threepio swatted the air with his healed paw as if he was testing it out.

Luke clasped his hands together, "Fantastic, Rey. Well done."

"Thank you, Your Highness," Rey said. "Now can we discuss why I'm here?"

Luke's smile fell and he stared down at his cider. "I suppose so. You mentioned the Resistance, correct?" The joy was gone from his voice, leaving behind a hollow cadence.

"Yes. Your sister sent me, Your Highness"

"Leia." He murmured her name as if it was foreign to him as if he had forgotten how to say it after so many years.

Rey nodded. "She wanted to come herself, but our campsite was attacked and she needed to lead the survivors to safety. She told me to come find you so that you could help us."

Luke shook his head and kept his gaze fixed to the floor. "She doesn't need me. None of them do. It's better that I stay here."

"But, Your Highness," Rey said. "You don't understand. We do need—"

"Wait," Luke said, lifting his hand to silence her. He pushed himself to his feet and stared at the door. "Someone is on the island. I can feel them."

….

Having taken the liberty of assigning himself to the outer wall for the evening, General Armitage Hux had ridden out to the guardtower where Pharma awaited him.

While her post at the inner gate was accompanied by rows of guards standing sentry on the turrets, the outer walls had a single tower to man the gate and allow the entrants to pass to the inner gate for further inspection.

With the shutters of the watchtower pulled shut, they made quick work of each other's uniforms before moving on the bench at the far end of the room. He threaded his fingers through her pale hair and pressed eager kisses against her neck. As reluctant as she usually was to remove her armor, he knew that seeing her exposed body was a rare privilege. The fact that he alone received such an honor pleased him as much as the feeling of her body against his. His eager mouth left pink marks on her pale flesh like an animal marking its territory.

In the distance, Hux could hear the rattling of carriage wheels accompanied by the beating of hooves.

Phasma pulled her lips from his. "There's someone at the gate." She said. Her breath was heavy and her chest rose and fell delightfully against his.

"Let them wait a bit longer." He whispered before taking her face in his hands and covering her mouth with his before she could protest further.

She pulled herself from his embrace and rose from the bench. "No, Armitage. I don't want them to ask any questions. Shutting the window is suspicious enough. We don't need to keep people waiting."

He caught her wrist as she walked away and flashed a crooked grin. "Don't take too long."

She slid her hand from his. "Stay hidden, unless you want to be the latest gossip of the castle barracks." She then retrieved her steel gray chemise from the floor and slipped it over her head.

Hux cocked an eyebrow. "I wouldn't mind that, actually."

"Of course you wouldn't," Phasma said as she threw open the shutters of the watchtower.

After peering down at the gate, she called back to Hux. "It's just a few covered carriages. Must be a supply shipment."

"Royal Army?" Hux asked.

Phasma nodded. "Yes. They're in uniform. I'll go up and pull the lever."

"Wait, see if Mitaka is among them. He should be on transport duty today and I need to speak with him."

"Right now?"

Hux shrugged. "If it's him, order him to meet me in the lower chamber. I'll be down and back in no time."

"Fine. I'll ask." She leaned her head back out the window. "Identify yourselves." She called out.

Even without the echo of her helmet, her voice carried the pressing authority that made the soldiers tremor in fear like frightened little boys. Hux couldn't help but smirk with pride. It had been her voice that had caught his attention before he had the pleasure of seeing her face.

"Rodinon and Datoo reporting, Captain," came a voice from below. "We have a supply run for the barracks."

Hux pushed himself off the bench and retied the lacing of his breeches before stomping to Phasma's side, keeping far back enough that he wouldn't be seen from below.

"Rodinon?" He repeated, gazing down at the men below. "Rodinon's been off duty all week with the pox. We spoke of him at dinner. They said he was still on bed rest."

"Are you sure?"

"Certain." He paced back to his pile of discarded clothing and pulled on his doublet. He then shoved his feet into his boots and fastened his sword belt. "Stay here. I'll go down and see what's going on."

"Stay vigilant, Armitage. Don't do anything stupid," Phasma said.

"It may just be petty thieves who got their hands on some armor and thought they could raid our barracks. Very clever ploy, but not enough to best me." Hux tapped the jeweled hilt of his sword and started down the tower stairs.