Royal Imitation | Kylo Ren

The Death Of Jorkhan

"– The Supreme Leader, and I, still theoretically need you." Kylo Ren's previous words echo in my mind as I realise what this means for me, now.

Jorkhan's survival sits ruthlessly in hands of fate, and I am hopeful that those hands are tragically, my own. 

The winds were starting to pick up speed, but they were hot and heavy as they crashed onto my face and laced through my hair. A flourishing of green grass lays below, and thousands of people are now trampling the fields, in order to get a close glimpse of the ceremony which will begin shortly.

Bravery is heavy in my heart. My soul is light with lifted conflict, which has collapsed and dissolved into the shadows of demise and a massacre to come. I hold tightly onto the balcony railing behind me as my bare feet tip-toe along the small slip of bricks which keep my feet from meeting thin air, and then ultimately the hard surface below. 

From here, nobody is yet to notice my body ready to crash down to the celebration, and without the pressure of wide eyes and shocked pleas, I only find it difficult to pluck enough courage to actually take the leap.

A cheer went up from the guests as the ring barer walked down the aisle, all clueless about the tragedy that will befall to them, in only a matter of seconds. My knees wobbled in the wind and I felt dizzy as I tried to blink back tears. 

It's a misfortune to my tribulations, that this is where I will finally give up my battles, in order to conceivably triumph the oncoming war. If there is no Princess, there's no marriage, meaning no tie between The First Order and Jorkhan. It's an undeserving fate bestowed upon me, for or I am not and never was, royal – But with no escape in my grasping, all I can rely upon is resorting to the first plan that created this colossal mess which became my life. 

Kill the Princess. Prince Dayvis and Ruby had tried to cruelly save Jorkhan, the moment they sacrificed the innocent bride-to-be, and although the late King was much eviler than them, by passing down the threatening death to come to me when he forced me to take the place of the Princess – It was always them who continued to eat upon the riches of brutality, in order to save their people.

Perhaps, it was selfish of me to not die sooner... But I never wished to depart by the yearning of my opponents. This was my choice now, not the solution of my tormentors. I am doing this to protect the innocent, I am doing this because my people are the only other's who are rampaging upon the streets and trying to put a deadly stop to the union – But they will never win against the violent forces of the Order, so I must listen to the riot in my beating heart, and join their fight.

I stare into the cloud-studded summery sky, hardly adoring the deep blue even though it's all I can see. Taking in another shuddering breath, the tears are flowing in earnest now, not caring for the vulnerable shine they give to the wretched wound across my cheek.

I was tired, and I was slowly turning into a person whom I didn't even know. My emptiness equates to insanity. My heart and body is heavy with the guilt and burden of so many lives ripped away from the world. Anwar was already gone, and I wished it was me instead.

It was all so sickening and devastating how many lives had been taken because of this kingdom, and The First Order, and yet, here I am breathing quick breaths and with a heart that still pounds against its cage. 

All my life, my one desire was to stay alive. But in my short amount of years, I had not even lived fully, and yet on this fateful, horrific day, I am no longer fearful of the idea of death, though when facing it head on, I do resist still against it. Time was no longer my casual acquaintance but instead the day had lead me steadily onwards to end's warm embrace.