Eternitarian

The Burning

She was the moon-
and the messenger of moons.
Greater than the dark,
greater than the light.

-Rune Lazuli
*****

His flesh burned.

I'm alive.

The pain radiated through his face, like hot pins and needles. They buried their cruel bite into the fevered skin, sending tremors through his extremities. He let out a grown as he opened his eye to the intrusive light; his right bandage-blind.

Where am I?

  His eye focused and sharpened on his surroundings. His world spiraled and shivered as he attempted to raise himself up; the dull throbbing in his side now made worse. His right hand went to the bandaged site, assessing the damage as he laid back down. The room shifted as his fevered brow furrowed in confusion. There was a pungent sterile scent to it, made warm by the medical monitors. The fluorescent lights gave off a sickly yellow green hue that made his skin look that of a poorly embalmed corpse.

Every muscle groaned and vibrated with abuse. His face burned without mercy, the physical memory of a searing heat reminding him of his mortality.

How did I get here?

His mind lurched as the image of a blue glow cascaded over a slender figure. Her. His tormentor. She stood over him; saber in hand. A whisper of devotion and something foreign ripped through his chest; the pain and surprise of it making his eyes water and his nose drip.

What in fucking hell?

Had his mind been damaged as well?

Her hazel eyes bore into his, promising vengeance and retribution. Her power radiated in waves, making the air thick with energy. Seeing her there, fury billowing and pooling inside the walls of her mind, was enough to bring him to his knees. He could feel it. Her anger. Her loss. Not the loss of Solo, though it painful; but rather the loss of what she had known true for years. They weren't coming back for her. Nothing would be the same for her. She had been thrust into a new world with no chance of ever going back to the one she had known. Everything she knew was forever changed, and the loss of control over her own fate infuriated her.  Her anger brought her focus.

As her saber scourged his flesh, he welcomed each blow with a twisted pleasure. Feeling the adrenaline-high rush through his limbs gave him the satisfaction of a battle-long sought. They were perfectly matched. Finally, he had met an adversary worthy of him.

Rey. You're mine.

You're a monster, she said. No, he was just a sick man. He felt the deepening pull of something. It gripped his heart and squeezed-the chambers straining under the suffocation. The breath caught in his lungs- burning the the alveoli- as it did when his mind first locked with hers; as it did every time after that.

"Don't be afraid, I feel it too."

The chattering and hooting of a droid drew him from the secret dark swells of yearning for connection. He felt the unsettling presence of someone nearby; shifting uneasily at the disturbance of his thoughts and pain, he prepared himself for the intruding redhead. The mechanical doors opened with a gust of pressurized air as General Hux strode inside.

"How long have I been here, Hux?" Ren's eye remained closed.

He felt the change in the stagnant air as the general came to his bedside. The man's clammy cold hand pressed to Ren's brow, an irritated sigh escaping the redhead's lips. The brief connection of skin deeply unsettled Ren; the last time someone touched him in such a delicate way, was Hans Solo. And he was dead now.