The Redemption of Fate ~ A Reylo Story

15

"Can you at least stay with me? Incase. . ." Rey's voice trailed off. She couldn't finish her sentence, afraid to conjure up what she knew was all too possible. Luke's warning about her physical health distressed her. If Ben was resurrected, but Rey was lost her life, then what would be the point? For Ben to live without her--it would be morbidly ironic. It would plunder everything she ever desired; it would be devastating.
"Of course," Luke replied, studying Rey's pensive expression, "but unfortunately, I can't save you. Not as a Force Ghost, anyway."
Rey nodded, nearly drowning in her adverse thoughts. "I know I have the strength. . ." she was staring down at her fingertips, eyes absent, "I can do this. . . I can do this. . . Luke, please tell me this is possible."

Luke kneeled beside Rey, letting out a sigh as he plopped down on the ground. He turned to face her. His ghostly hand rested upon Rey's shoulder. "I have every belief you can. You're strong, stronger than you known. Now, I'll be here. I have nothing else to do. Being a ghost is terribly exhausting."
Rey's attention was caught and she laughed. Happy to feel a genuine emotion--other than fear--in her body. "Thank you, Master Luke."
He tapped her shoulder, willing her on. "Believe. The Force is with you and always will be."
She nodded. She had to believe. Hope was her only mechanism. "You're right. I can do this."

Ambition surged inside of Rey so fervently that her fingers twitched violently with power. With one last, deep inhalation, the force flew from out of the tips of Rey's fingers, exerting electricity. She felt the strain--the flow of the Force, deep within the marrow of her bones, rushing out from her body in vigorous gusts. Rey stood, arms outstretched in the cool of the night, with only the hue of Luke's specter-body and the pulsating tendrils of leftover electricity in the clouds above.
Sweat beaded on the temples of her forehead and slicked her outspread palms. It was a cold sweat--the kind of uncertainty, laced with icy adrenaline and shivering fear. It was one thing to say, and it was another to do. And even despite Rey's assurance in her competency, the unease of the unknown pricked at her clammy skin, squeezing at her knotted muscles.

You're worth it, Rey thought amidst her struggling, you are worth this, Ben.
Her eyebrows crunched together, uncomfortably creasing her skin. Her jaw clenched and her teeth ground into each other. Her body shook. Her once-opened palms were now shut into white-knuckled fists. The atmosphere above Rey reverberated with thunder, matching Rey's mental and physical turmoil. A branch of lightning exploded into brilliant tendrils of energy above her.
Rey screamed, eyes clamped shut. Her chest heaved with exertion. She felt her mind slipping--her conscience sinking--being devoured by the dark, dreadful mouth of the enemy: the dark side.

That hungering, demolishing force. Once given authority, the dark side's morbid yearn for power and decay, was infiltrating--nearly impossible to avoid. Rey was revolted. She tried to pull herself from its grasp, but her consciousness had already been swept away like a powerful flood, and she felt its supernatural claws pick away at her brain. Though everything was dark, Rey could still see and she could still imagine. She knew she was still standing, but she felt legless. Limbless, really. Like she didn't even belong to a body anymore. Like her only brain existed, floating around in a heavy blankness, with nothing else to hold to, nothing else to sense.
And then Rey felt that disturbing familiarity. Gooseflesh crawled along her arms and neck.
Palpatine was penetrating her consciousness.