Published February 14, 2022

Prologue

Dear friends, let us love one another, for love comes from God. Everyone who loves has been born of God and knows God. Whoever does not love does not know God, because God is love. ~ 1 John 4:7-8, New International Version

This story begins, as all stories do, with the Force.

When the galaxy first began, the Force facilitated the creation of two types of sentient beings: the immortal gods who lived forever, and mortal creatures who lived only brief spans of time. The gods were meant to be special instruments of the Force, carrying out its will among the mortals. And sometimes the Force bestowed gifts on mortals themselves.

The Skywalkers were among the most powerful of the gods. They were formidable, tenacious, and—for the most part—wise. Mortals revered them as paragons of freedom, hope, truth, and justice. Most other divine beings were known by their relationships to this great clan: some were their allies, some were their teachers or students, and some were their enemies. Some lesser gods envied their power, whose source was at once simple and irreplicable.

The Skywalkers' strength came from their unparalleled ability to love—not merely to feel tender emotions, but also to demonstrate them through acts of will, and to inspire such emotions and actions in others. They were a family, and their bonds manifested love in its various forms, between parent and child, husband and wife, brother and sister and friend.

Most of the gods lived out their immortal lives unmarried. Some, such as those in the Jedi Order, lived celibate lives to remain detached and impartial in their dealings with mortal creatures. Others occasionally dallied with each other or with mortals, which sometimes resulted in begetting new gods or demigods. Committed relationships between gods were unusual, and marriages rarer still.

But the Skywalkers tended to fall in love with mortals, and marry them, and try to make them immortal as well. This they did with varying levels of success, with many trials and tragedies in the process.

It was into this world that the youngest Skywalker was born. He was the only child of his parents, and the only grandchild of his grandparents. He was presumed to have a great capacity forlove, being the descendent and pupil of such forebears. But like many of them, he was also sensitive, curious, radical, and impulsive.

He was a powerful channel of the Force, but he did not always use it prudently. His attempts at influencing the affairs of mortals, even in a positive and indirect way, sometimes went badly awry. In his arrogance, he misunderstood situations. In his eagerness, he made mistakes. And sometimes, in his gleeful mischief, he played tricks for his own amusement.

It was the chaos he caused, both in the mortal realm and in his own family, that drew to him the attention of Snoke, a god of the dark side of the Force.

Snoke had never experienced love himself, but in observing the affairs of mortals, he perceived that it had great and mysterious power. Depending on the circumstances, it could either cause or resolve discord between people—families, communities, and even entire countries. He relished the chaos that erupted when people rebelled against societal norms, and the breaking of norms involving love and marriage tended to elicit even greater reactions, since they concerned such strong personal emotions and deeply embedded cultural constructs.

Watching from afar, Snoke planted seeds of fear, anxiety, and resentment in the Skywalker clan. While these wounds grew and festered, the youngest Skywalker, no longer a child, came to believe that his elders were not using their full strength or allowing him to use his.

What most troubled his family was the way he questioned everything: their mission, their methods, their moral standards. He asked why they did not try to exercise more control over the affairs of mortals, who cried out so often, so pitifully, for divine aid. He felt such empathy that he wanted to solve their problems immediately in the way they asked. But his family cautioned him against such swift and direct action. The gods could intervene in subtle ways, exerting an invisible influence over circumstances and events, but they would not act on their own whims. They weighed every decision against the will of the Force as they perceived it.

This contention came to a head when the youngest Skywalker began to wonder if there might be a way to make people love each other. When he voiced this idea to his family, they rebuked him without a moment's thought. They championed freedom as well as love, and they would not even consider robbing people of their free will.

That was when Snoke saw his opportunity.

After one of the youngest Skywalker's mishaps, when his parents were busy trying to contain and rectify the damage he had caused, Snoke approached him with words of sympathy and flattery. Hungry for affirmation, and curious about what he could learn from a god outside his own clan, the Skywalker heard him out. Then, when Snoke questioned him, he opened his own heart, divulging thoughts and desires he dared not share with his family. After listening intently, his new friend offered him a deal.

Snoke promised to help him develop a means of creating feelings of love in a person. His one condition was that the youngest Skywalker must then use it whenever Snoke directed him to do so. The Skywalker heir accepted the deal, either not knowing or not caring what the consequences would be.

Together they developed an elixir with which to anoint different weapons—darts, arrows, knives, or swords. Upon striking the target, it inspired all-encompassing feelings of desire, passion, obsession, and infatuation toward the next person the victim saw. Trying to contain such emotions and curb such appetites could cause insanity for the poor individual, whereas acting upon them could cause destruction for those around them.

What happened next, no mortal knows with certainty. Some say that the Skywalkers learned of the bargain and confronted their young kinsman. Others say Snoke ordered him to turn on his family, and that he did so, honoring his promise of service. Whatever happened, nothing was the same afterward.

From that time on, the once mighty Skywalker clan was fractured. Spouses, siblings, parents, and children lived apart. Some threw themselves into work, trying to repair the damage caused by their kinsman. Some of them retreated into exile, thinking the world would be better off without their meddling. As for the youngest Skywalker, he fled his family's celestial home and sought refuge with his mentor.

It was a day of great mourning, in the heavens and on the earth, when it became known that the Skywalker heir had pledged his loyalty to their natural enemy. Forsaking hope of reconciling with his family, he hardened his heart against his better nature and resigned himself to his role as Snoke's servant.

From that time on, he began to be called by a new name: Kylo Ren. This name was invoked by mortals with the most fearful reverence, and anyone who swore a false oath by it, or broke a promise sworn by it, met a wretched fate. His old name faded from the lips of mortals, for any who offered prayers in that name were ignored, and any who offered sacrifices in that name were punished.

Kylo Ren soon adopted his master's views and values, and rejected the teachings of his family and their allies. To the Skywalkers, love was an impulse to be tempered, a desire to be purified. Passion was something to tame and contain, bound by rules that must be followed and contracts that must be honored. Power was to be used sparingly, only when necessary, and more often ought to be curbed and surrendered. But Snoke and the gods of darkness encouraged fueling passions, acting on desires, and utilizing whatever power was at one's disposal. From Snoke, Kylo Ren learned what love could really do.

Love was a tool for manipulation. It was a two-edged blade whose wounds were different depending on the person's disposition. It could enable or inhibit, invigorate or debilitate. It could enhance or diminish power of different kinds. Love could help people work together, allowing them to achieve more than they could alone. But it could also cause division, and inspire pain, madness, misery, and humiliation. It made people vulnerable and desperate, and thus created opportunities for exploitation.

The one who wielded control over such an overwhelming affliction must hold himself above it, unless they wished, like the Skywalkers, to make themselves subject to its whims. So, it was with great pride and disdain that Kylo Ren kept himself aloof of both mortal and immortal companions. He could recognize beauty, attractiveness, and various kinds of charms, but he was not moved by them—or rather, he would not allow himself to be.

Love was a trap. And now, thanks to the power he inherited from his family and the gift he received from his master, he possessed the ability to set that trap.

With this weapon at his disposal, Kylo Ren became one of the most feared gods. Woe came upon anyone who disrespected him or gave any of the other gods reason to call upon him. And call upon him they did.

Mortals and immortals alike sought him out to influence their allies and punish their enemies. Gods commissioned him and bestowed favors on him in return for his service. Humans prayed for his aid in pursuing the objects of their affection and lust. All implored his mercy, lest they someday be struck by his affliction and its attendant woes.

"And so, young ones," Lor San Tekka said, "that is why we show Kylo Ren our respect. It does not stem from devotion, for he does not want that; nor from admiration, for he does not deserve that. It stems from fear. That is all he wants from us, and all he deserves from us."

A solemn silence followed the telling of the sacred story. The only sounds in the temple came from the youngest children, babies and toddlers who did not know better and whose parents tried to hush them. The other people present, standing in the back or sitting on benches or on the floor, had listened to the story with varying levels of attentiveness. Even those whose minds had wandered now straightened up and listened respectfully as Tekka drew the narrative to a close.

Rey had listened intently the whole time, sitting with a group of other local children. For the most part she had remained still even as her emotions rose and fell inside her. Now, she took a few deep, slow breaths, trying not to sob or sniffle. She managed to stay quiet, but she could not stop the tears that leaked from the corners of her eyes.

She swiped the back of her hand across her eyes and cheeks, not wanting anyone to notice, but it was too late: Poe Dameron, who was a few years older than her, turned his head just in time to see the gesture. "Are you crying?" he said, incredulous and a little too loud.

"No," Rey said hotly.

Finn, a kind boy closer to her age, glanced at her in concern. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," she insisted, shaking her head. "It's just a sad story. You tell it well," she told Tekka, earning a smile from him.

Like most of the poor children in Jakku, Rey loved to hear stories. On the hardest days, when heat or hunger or loneliness threatened to overwhelm her, she would make up a story or recite a tale in her mind, carrying her thoughts far away from the barren desert. Her favorite part of any holiday was usually the telling of stories about whatever event or person was being celebrated. Today was no exception, even though it was not a day that inspired joy. Kylo Ren's memorial was one of the somber ones, a day for reflection and remembrance.

Rey had heard the story of Kylo Ren before, but it struck her in different ways as she grew older. It had touched her even more deeply ever since her parents left a few years earlier. Now, upon hearing it, she felt anger as well as grief, both for the god and for his family. It sounded as though both parties had made mistakes, and paid dearly for them. But she could not understand how any child could betray their parents, and she blamed Kylo Ren for not trusting or appreciating his.

Hearing such opposing descriptions of love also filled Rey with mixed emotions. She had some friends and kind neighbors, but there was no one who loved her the way a family should. Part of her ached for someone to love her, but she tried to convince herself that she was better off without such attachments.

Embarrassed by her inability to hide her emotions, Rey avoided the eyes of the others in the audience, and instead gazed around the pantheon of Skywalkers. Each god was represented by a statue set on a raised arc-shaped platform encircling the room, with the eldest generations at the left end and the youngest at the right end. The Skywalkers were recognizable by their wings, from which they derived their name, and by the special weapons they carried. Those who had been trained as Jedi were depicted holding their weapons, laser-producing swords called lightsabers. Their posture and expressions were noble, dignified, but also gentle and benevolent. Rey thought their expressions held some sadness, but that might have been her imagination, colored by the tragic story she had just heard.

The last statue, at the end of the arc, was covered with black cloth. Lor San Tekka, an elder of the Church of the Force, had stood next to this odd piece of art as he told the story, and now he gestured to it.

"This statue was made long ago, when the youngest Skywalker appeared in his true form. The prophets and seers say that he was beautiful to behold. But after his defection, he commanded that his images be covered, hiding his resemblance to his parents. Now no one may see his face. He has his own temples now, apart from his family, and some have represented him among the pantheon of gods of the dark side. But his mother, speaking through an oracle, forbade the removal of his statue from any temples of the Skywalkers. For though he forsook their mission and betrayed their trust, one can never deny the truth that is one's family. So here he remains, a reminder that even the best of us may fall from grace, and even the worst of us is our kinsman."

After another profound, thoughtful silence, Finn raised his hand tentatively. "Sir, can we ask questions?"

Many in the audience looked at him in surprise and even dismay, wondering if his boldness would bring down the wrath of the gods or the censure of their representative. But Tekka answered simply, "You may."

Finn spoke haltingly, scratching his head. "Isn't it weird to ask favors from gods about things that didn't go well in their own lives? I mean, the stories say that the Skywalkers didn't do so well raising their kids—but parents are supposed to pray to them for help with their kids?"

Tekka nodded. "A fair and thoughtful question, youngling. Unlike Kylo Ren, who scorns the very thing he promotes, the Skywalkers are the patrons of love and friendship because they can relate to our sufferings concerning them. They know the joys of marriage and parenthood, friendship and childhood; and they know the pain of losing a child, or a parent, or a spouse."

Poe raised his hand. "But if they couldn't stop those things for themselves …"

"Weren't you listening to the story?" Rose Tico said. "It's not about what they can do, but what they will do. It's about purpose, not ability."

More people—curious children, smart-aleck teenagers, and even some aspiring scholars—began chiming in with opinions and theories. They argued about the power of the Force and whether the gods were limited by it or subservient to it. The poor old storyteller attempted to moderate the theological debate, but then found there were too many voices to make his own heard.

Tuning out the noise, Rey tried to imagine what it would be like to be omniscient like the Force. The gods were not omniscient, but their awareness and perception were not bound by space and time. They could watch mortals invisibly, and they could hear whenever someone invoked their names.

Rey's attention was diverted as Poe's father, Kes Dameron, tapped on her shoulder. "I think we're done here," he said, gesturing to the other children who were starting to stand and stretch their legs after being seated for so long.

Rey got up reluctantly, wishing they could stay longer to look at all the statues, even though they had done so when they arrived a few hours earlier. She paused in front of the covered statue, and glanced at the two next to it, a married couple called Leia Organa and Han Solo. Their son had become Kylo Ren. Rey looked at their faces, and then looked to the covered statue, trying to imagine the god hidden underneath.

Finn's initial question made Rey wonder what it must be like for the Skywalkers, to be able to solve other people's problems but not their own. She wondered, too, how Kylo Ren felt, watching people fall in love and never allowing himself to do so.

"I wonder if he ever feels lonely," Rey said, more to herself than to anyone around her.

But Tekka heard. "Best keep such thoughts to yourself, child," he warned. "The one thing Kylo Ren does not want is pity. Let his story be but a reminder of the consequences of manipulation and betrayal."

Rey nodded respectfully, then followed the other children and chaperones making their way outside.

The Damerons had offered transportation in their landspeeder to any children who did not have family members to bring them to the temple. Most of them did not have permanent homes to return to, but they still wanted the novelty of a ride in a vehicle with their friends.

Kes had complained about the engine during their earlier journey, and now, as the older children helped the younger ones climb in, he banged his fist on it in frustration in an attempt to get it to start.

"Sorry, kids," he said finally. "Even if we take off weight, it looks like we'll have to push. Maybe some of the older kids could take turns helping me."

Paige Tico, Rose's teenage sister, took the first turn pushing the vehicle down the dirt road. Rose stayed in the speeder to mind the smallest children. Rey, Poe, and Finn walked on foot, moving at a faster pace and soon advancing some distance ahead of the others.

"Did you get an answer to your question?" Rey asked Finn.

"Uh … more like a bunch of answers." He shrugged, at a loss. "I'm not sure which one is right."

"I thought your question was a good one," she complimented. Finn smiled at her gratefully.

"I think you might be overthinking it," Poe said frankly.

Rey cast a curious look at him. "Why? Do you think he shouldn't ask any questions?"

"No—it's kind of the opposite. It's good to ask questions. But I wouldn't spend time worrying over the answers."

This indifference confused Finn. "You don't want to know the truth—however much we can know?"

"Well—sometimes I wonder how much of what the teachers say is true." Poe said this nonchalantly, but his words were shocking to Rey and Finn's young ears. "I mean, all these stories about what to be afraid of, and how to behave … they sound like a good way to make people live a certain way, even if they'd rather do something else."

Finn was stunned. "So you think these stories about the gods and the Force could be just … made up?"

"I don't know. It's not like we have eyewitness accounts. And even if we did, I'd want more evidence than just one person's word."

Rey was silent, looking at the ground; but Finn tilted his head as he looked at Poe, his brow furrowed. "What kind of evidence do you need for something that holds the universe together?"

"Well, just how do we know that—"
The conversation was cut off by the sudden sound of an engine bursting with energy, followed by Kes Dameron's voice: "Look out!"

The three friends whirled around and saw the landspeeder hurtling toward them at maximum speed, while the children inside screamed and clung to the sides in terror.

"MOVE!" Poe shouted, running out of the way. Finn followed him, but Rey stood where she was, watching the landspeeder's approach.

She only had seconds to think about what to do, but she knew at once that her mind was already made up. She did not consider the risk she was taking, which was not the same one the onlookers perceived. She gave no thought to what might happen to her. Her only hesitation was in wondering whether she could succeed at what she attempted; but she was already resolved to try.

Planting her feet as firmly as she could on the dirt road, Rey held both hands out toward the speeder, standing her ground as it came closer and closer. She thought she could see it slowing down, but it was hard to tell from her angle. As the landspeeder closed the distance, two opposing instincts took hold of Rey at once: she crouched, ducking and covering her head with one arm, but she held her other arm out toward the craft, willing it to stop, bracing herself against its momentum.

It felt as though something was pressing hard against her outstretched hand, but the jar of impact never came. Her body remained tense, though, and she felt as though she were supporting a great weight.

Rey heard people start to exclaim, softly at first, then louder. Finally she heard her friends' voices calling her name, sounding confused and concerned.

She opened her eyes, and found that the sun overhead was blocked by something above her: the landspeeder. It had veered upward at an angle parallel with her hand, and remained stationary in the air. The children were leaning over the sides, looking down and gaping at her, realizing that, somehow, she had stopped the runaway cart without touching it.

Moving ever so slowly, Rey lowered her hand, and the landspeeder followed, until it was only a foot above the ground; then her strength gave out, and as her arm fell, the craft also landed heavily, kicking up a small cloud of dust. Then Rey herself collapsed, falling on her elbows and knees and gasping for breath.

The shocked silence was instantly broken as the children started to cheer or cry or shout questions. Kes Dameron ran over and cast Rey a brief, bewildered look before turning to the children. "Is everyone alright?"

Rose pointed to one of the younger boys. "Temiri hit his head when the speeder stopped."

Finn and Poe had reached Rey's side to help her up, but she was on her feet at once and rushed to the side of the craft as Kes helped the children out. Little Temiri Blagg, a boy about half Rey's age, was in a daze, and his head had a horrible gash. Rey's heart sank at the sight of it, thinking it was her fault.

But a little ember of hope remained in her, fueled by the success she had just experienced.

Kes watched warily, but did not protest, as Rey reached out and pressed her hand to Temiri's head. She closed her eyes and prayed to all the gods—and, because it was his feast day, she even called on the dread Kylo Ren, asking for mercy.

I only wanted to help. Please, let him be alright. Please, help me help him.

Rey had the strangest sense that someone spoke back—not with audible words, but with thoughts. You have what you need. Use it.

She bowed her head and focused on the wound, willing the cells to rearrange, the blood to clot, the torn skin to mend. More voices echoed around her as passersby stopped and drew near.

"What's happening?"

"What's she doing?"

"Shut up and watch!"

Then, moments later: "The wound is gone!"

"He's healed!"

"The girl healed him!"

Rey opened her eyes and saw that it was true. When she removed her hand, Kes immediately asked Temiri, "Does it hurt?"

Temiri blinked, once again seeing clearly. Then he shook his head slowly, experimentally. "No—it doesn't."

Rey felt weak, and Finn put an arm around her to steady her. He looked up at Poe with a raised eyebrow and just the hint of a smile. "Is that enough proof for you?"

Poe answered grudgingly. "To believe in the Force? Yeah. That's kind of hard to deny. But to believe in all the stories about all the gods? I'd need more evidence than that."

"You literally just witnessed a miracle! What else do you want?"

Kes looked to Rey and said, "You used the Force just now." He might have been either asking for confirmation or answering a question.

She finally spoke, apologetic. "I was trying to save them, I didn't mean to hurt—"

He smiled and put his hand on her shoulder. "No, Rey, you did good. You saved Rose and the kids—and anyone else they might have run into—and you healed Temiri."

Rose, who had climbed out and knelt near them, looked to Rey with undisguised admiration. "You're a hero," she said in awe.

By this time, a small crowd had formed around the vehicle. People who had seen the vehicle chase from afar or witnessed the healing up close pointed at Rey as they spoke to each other. Some whispered witch or sorceress, but one particularly loud woman declared, "There's a goddess among us!"

Poe laughed, but Rey was alarmed. "I'm not a goddess!"

"But you do have the Force!" someone insisted.

A junk dealer pointed in recognition. "I know her! She's the best scavenger in these parts!"

"Is this why?" another trader demanded. "Does the Force tell you what to do?"

"No—I—it's not like that," she stammered.

"Then what is it like?"

Rey felt trapped. She could not explain what she did not understand. Thankfully, though, too many people were talking for anyone to expect an answer from her. Some talked to her, while others turned to each other and talked about her.

"Power like this hasn't been seen in ages."

"You should be a healer! There are lots of sick in the next town—"

"You could run your own clinic, have people bring their wounded—"

"If you can move things with your mind, why not build some houses?"

"Hey, back off!" Finn tried to put himself between Rey and the many people trying to crowd around her. "She's just a kid. Give her some space."

Rey took that as her opportunity: once Finn had given her an opening, she ducked low and darted between the people in the small but growing crowd. Once she was in open air again, she ran, heading off the road and into the waste.

Most people would have gotten lost in the open desert, but Rey knew her way between different settlements and abandoned buildings and vehicles. That was where she and other scavengers picked out their living, finding valuable items among the ruins left behind by long-ago wars. She ran briefly to put distance between herself and the others; then she jogged for a long time, until she reached a half-ruined structure with a few walls still standing. She stopped to rest in the shade, hiding from both the sun and the people she had left behind.

She had not been resting long before a voice, strong but far away, broke the silence. "REY!" It was Finn, and when Rey got up and peeked around the wall, she saw that Poe and the Tico sisters had followed him. Poe, the eldest among them, was carrying Temiri Blagg on his back. And other people were further behind them, apparently following them as they had followed her. Rey thought about running away again, but she was tired and thirsty, and they probably had water. So she reluctantly went around to meet them.

Finn broke into a run when she appeared, and took her by the shoulders when he reached her. "Are you okay?" he panted.

"I'm fine," Rey said automatically.

Paige handed her a canteen, and she accepted it gratefully, taking a long drink. That not only quenched her thirst but also bought her some time before the questions began.

"Why did you run away?" Poe asked, before she was done.

Rey hardly knew how to answer. "Everyone was looking at me, and telling me what I should do, and …" She broke off, her voice becoming choked, and she looked away, ashamed and embarrassed. "I was scared," she confessed.

"Of what? Your power? Or how people were reacting to it?"

"Both, I guess."

Temiri spoke up, his voice full of admiration. "You didn't look scared when the speeder was coming at you."

"Did you know you could do that?" Paige asked.

"I—I wasn't sure it would work."

"But—have you done that kind of thing before?" Rose asked.

"… Sometimes," Rey admitted. "For smaller things."

"Why haven't you shown us?"

"M-my parents said not to show off."

Her parents had actually explained it a different way. They had told her that they had a strong connection with the Force, which allowed them to do things other people couldn't. But they had kept a strict rule to never do such things publicly. If they did, people might not like them, and some might even want to take them away. Rey suspected that was why her parents had disappeared so suddenly.

"After you left," Poe informed her, "a lot of people were talking about going to find you." He tossed his head at the others who had ventured out after them, who were now gathering a short distance away, watching and waiting. "Some of them have family members who are sick, and there's even a hospital in one town. If you could heal Temiri, couldn't you try to heal them?"

Finn cut in, "Rey can decide for herself what to do with her power."

Rey was grateful for this defense; but then all her friends' eyes were on her, and she realized that they were expecting her to decide now, and probably hoping for a particular decision.

"Think of all the good you could do," Paige suggested. "You know how many poor and sick people there are around here."

"Power like that should be used to help others," Rose urged. "If the Force is with you, it probably doesn't want you to just hide it and never use it."

There were stories about people who had received divine messages, like "The Force is with you." Most of those people were given difficult or even seemingly impossible missions. But they ended up being heroes, remembered forever after in story and song.

Rey looked at Temiri, who gazed back at her, holding his cap in one hand and scratching his head where the wound had been. He was thoroughly impressed, but his stare had more than just wonder; there was something more: hope.

She realized, then, how she must look to him, and to everyone else who had seen her today. Little orphan scavengers from backwater places like Jakku were not supposed to be powerful. The fact that someone like her could tap into the Force, command it and channel it, could upset the whole social system. That might be dangerous for her, but it could also help a lot of people, giving them hope and healing.

Still, Rey hesitated. She thought of the story they had heard earlier, and how Kylo Ren had initially acted out of a desire to help the unfortunate. That was a feeling she could relate to, but she had always tried to quash it out of self-preservation. Who knew what might happen to her if she acted on impulse and emotion, as he had?

A counterargument came to her mind immediately. Kylo Ren had disregarded the will of the Force. Well, she would not make that mistake.

Rey turned and looked at the horizon, where the sun was dipping lower in the sky. What should I do?

Suddenly, Rey felt that strange, peaceful presence again. More words came to her, almost audible this time, and she had a distinct feeling that it was a maternal voice speaking them: Don't be afraid of who you are.

She glanced back at the ruins, which she had thought would be a good place to hide. Part of her still wanted to do so. But as she looked at her friends and the growing crowd, waiting for her answer with such earnest hope, compassion overcame her fear.

"Okay," she said finally. "I'll see what I can do."

"You will?" more than one person said.

"I'll have to be careful," Rey qualified. "Do things secretly, if I can, without drawing attention." She smiled at Temiri and ruffled his hair. "But I won't ignore people who are suffering, when I can do something to help them."

"Yeah!" Poe punched his fist in the air, then grasped her hand and lifted it up, as though she had bested an opponent in a duel. "Give it up for Rey!"

Everyone cheered, clapping and whistling and shouting encouragement. Rey had never received such a show of support or approval, and that, more than her abilities, made her feel confident, and even a little proud.

She knew, then, that she was starting down a path with no turning back. Her life was forever changed—but whether it was for good or ill remained to be seen.

Author's Notes

Though other fans have explored the idea of Ben and Rey as analogues of Cupid/Eros and Psyche, I decided to write my own story based on this concept after I saw a drawing by Reylo365 on Twitter (who seems to have deleted their work since then). That image triggered my imagination, prompting me to sketch out the plot and write several thousand words in one day. However, I waited over a year before starting to post this, since I've had other projects at the same time and needed to figure out various aspects of this story. I'm stepping out in faith, hoping that a regular routine of chapter-by-chapter updates will motivate me to continue until it is finished. Here are a few things to be aware of going forward:

Epigraphs and allusions: While this will not be a consistent and straightforward allegory, there will be parallels with various biblical stories and religious concepts. On Fan Fiction dot Net, each chapter will have an epigraph from the Bible to highlight a certain theme or plot point; but on Archive Of Our Own, there will be no epigraphs.

Rating and content: This story will explore themes of sexual love and marital fidelity. So, there will be scenes with sex and nudity in the context of marriage. The primary focus in such scenes will be on the characters' thoughts and emotions, and what they mean for the relationship, rather than sensory experiences.

Recommendations: For more on the topic of Ben/Kylo and Rey as Cupid/Eros and Psyche, or other characters from myths and fairy tales, I recommend the What the Force podcast by Marie-Claire Gould (particularly the episode about fairy tales) and the essays of allgirlsareprincesses on Tumblr. I also strongly recommend C.S. Lewis' retelling of the Cupid/Eros and Psyche myth, the novel Till We Have Faces.

I hope you'll come along and enjoy this journey! Please leave a review or send a message if you want to give feedback or ask questions; I heartily welcome both. Thanks for reading!