Thirty-Five

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­­Craning your neck from your position strapped in against the uncomfortable fold-down spare seat behind Kylo Ren on the Silencer, you once again watch Rey's small frame shrink into the distance. As her island fades from view a wave of regret crashes over you. As much as you had fought against it, a part of you had been hopeful that she could help you. Neither Rey nor Kylo had been brave enough to push you to attempt a second try at facing your torment knowing that you'd have to go it alone. Born out of their love for you, and also their respect, they had relented.

Your cyclonic emotions had not let up. You find yourself oscillating between wanting to sob in frustration and howl with laughter at the absurdity of the situation. Smug was never a word that had been used in conjunction with your character, whether by you or anyone else. But you keep fighting against episodes of awe and glee at finding yourself tapped into power that the two most powerful people you know, maybe the most powerful people in the entire galaxy, couldn't access. Your own thoughts offend you even as they slowly convince you to stop fighting this and attempt to understand it.

Kylo, through his research, had shared his newly acquired encyclopedic knowledge on Force sensitive pyrokinesis including theories, historical accounts, and any other tidbit he uncovered. No account he found included any theory on why some Force users can learn it and others cannot. A through line being that those documented to have been pyrokinetic had sought it out and cultivated the power intentionally. Nothing he found remotely hinted at anything similar to what you are going through. No evidence of dreams, voices, or veiled calls to destiny had surfaced.

Whatever this was, as far as you could tell, had never been documented.

The theory that the masters and Rey had come up with had turned out to be baseless, a hunch and nothing more. Exploring it had only worsened the matter. They did not have any further advice upon learning your account of what went down in Rey's hut. Everyone was at a loss.

You highly doubt that Kylo will give you much room to breathe due to his practiced worrying.

One thing you know he won't do, however, is try to stop you from throwing yourself back into helping out at the station. Laundsky had sent you a com as recently as this morning, inquiring on when he could expect you back. He had a case and you find yourself longing for the distraction.

— — —

The next few days go by in a blur. Though you sleep each night you get very little rest. The dreams have become more repetitive. Maybe they always were. It's hard to know. Sometimes you wake up sweating, each detail etched into your memory like a fresh tattoo. Other days, you barely remember a thing.

Always, the flames threaten Kylo, all consuming, as is the nature of fire. You think your subconscious could be warning you that it's much harder to put out fires than to start them. Your theory does not explain the voices though.

You're beginning to think you'll never understand the meaning behind the words from the hut, 'step into the flames'. If it is meant to be literal... well, it can't be. Surely you would get burnt. That leaves a figurative meaning. How does one figuratively step into flames?

Increasingly, you struggle to concentrate during the day. Laundsky had respectfully sidestepped the issue, politely pretending not to notice your sorry state. Even so, you had been able to help him in gathering evidence to begin building a case against the smugglers he'd started tracking in your absence.

A witness had been apprehended and placed in the interrogation room for you to interview.

— — —

Holding yourself together against your shocking discovery moments before, you keep your face blank as you step out of the interrogation room with Laundsky in tow. As soon as the hatch slides shut behind him, you spin on your heels and lean in close so as not to be overheard.

Cherchant (Kylo Ren x Reader)Where stories live. Discover now