To Be So Lonely // Ben Solo

12

Rey, Ben, and Cyra turned their backs to each other. Their lightsabers ignited simultaneously, and it was not long after that the three of them were silenced into concentration.

Rey and Ben were both powerful in the Force, so much so that it was slightly effortless for the two of them to be switching between offensive and defensive strikes. Though Rey stayed more on the offensive, as she started to be forced away from the other two, the unhinged anger behind each swing of her saber was evident. She was not fighting with her brain, she was fighting with her body; a thrashing, untamed, untrained powerhouse.

Ben was more confident in his ability to fight than anything Cyra had seen him do before. The years of training under Snoke was apparent as he watched his opponents carefully, he thought, while on the defensive, before he would strike at their weak spots. Even using his head within the fight, his lightsaber felt close to him, like an extension of his body. He seemed to always swing it violently, quickly.

Cyra hadn't been in a fight in a number of years, and never having to use her lightsaber before, but she trusted in her body to know what to do, and she trusted in the Force.  In the first wave of attacks, the three had split almost instantly, separating to create individual concentration of Guards. Ben pushed three Guards, Rey was working on three herself, and it left Cyra with two Guards to handle on her own.

Cyra twirled the lightsaber, fastening it tightly between her hands. She jerked her body towards the first approaching Guard, causing him to raise his weapon, and she pushed her hand against him, pushing him back off his feet. With the distraction, the second Guard was forced to quickly jump out of the way, leaving him vulnerable, to which Cyra engaged. She swung the saber across his front, he blocked it at his chest, and she pushed down on the hilt of his weapon, forcing his hands to concentrate on avoiding the lightsaber closing in on his neck. She threw her foot between his legs, hooking the back of her shoe behind his heel, and causing him to fall backwards. She twirled the lightsaber around her hand and dropped it into his chest.

She let out a cry as a blade sliced up the back of her calf. Cyra fell forward and immediately dropped her saber. She rolled to her back as soon as she hit the floor, narrowly avoiding the sword that hit the floor, where her face was seconds ago. She called her saber to her hand, using the hilt to jam against the Guard's ankle. It did nothing, as he was wearing armor, and he tried again to drop his sword into her vulnerable figure. Cyra ignited the lightsaber and caught it before it contacted with her body. She managed to push it up and give herself time to roll backwards, away from him, and make it to her feet before their weapons clashed again.

The Guard was taller than her and slashing down. He was quick with his blows, forcing her back. She stepped carefully, but ultimately let him push her against the wall. She felt her heel push into the wall and she swung her lightsaber as a last ditch effort. He avoided her swing. She held her lightsaber in a reverse-grip, distancing him. He raised his sword to swing, taking a step as he did, but he grunted slightly as his foot slipped on a puddle of red liquid in front of Cyra. She dodged underneath it. She hiked her leg up and kicked his back, forcing him into the wall. Forgetting her leg had been injured, she was not able to kick him with enough force to do much, but she recovered quickly and shoved her lightsaber into his back before he moved.

Cyra turned, holding her lightsaber at the ready. She stepped forward to help Rey or Ben in their individual fights, but it was over the minute a lightsaber flew past her head, Ben caught it, and ignited it in the face of the Guard who had put him in a choke hold. Cyra noticed then that stars were beginning to cloud her vision and she turned off her lightsaber, tumbling back on her bottom. Her hands grabbed the back of her calf. She exuded a quiet hiss of pain as she made contact with the opened skin.

"The fleet," said Rey, pointing at the opened window. "Order them to stop firing. There's still time to save the fleet!" 

But Ben was not interested in Rey or Cyra in the moments after the fighting ended. Amidst the flaming throne room,  the strewn dead bodies, the throne was untouched, besides Snoke's slumped body, and Ben was having a hard time taking his eyes away from it.

"It's time to let old things die," he said quietly. Rey was silent, hanging on his words. He continued, "Snoke, Skywalker, the Sith, the Jedi, the Rebels... Let it all die."

Cyra barely heard what he was going on about. With every word, her ears started to muffle, and the black and white dots in her vision were enclosing her sight. She fell backwards. The sound of her head hitting the floor alerted Ben and Rey, causing them to search for her body along the floor.

Rey rushed to Cyra's side. She made her lay down on her side and pushed her hands away from the wound. Cyra's hands were coated in blood, and as she looked at the floor, a trail of blood had been following her since she was cut. It was clear that she had lost enough blood to be of significant worry.

Ben saw Cyra's position, and with one last look at the throne, stepped across the floor to her, crouching beside her. He grabbed the end of his shirt to rip it and Rey followed, both of them tightening strips of their own fabric over the long slash on the back of her calf. Cyra reached for his hand, catching it as he went to reach over her. He whipped his head at her worriedly, the sweat across his forehead from the fight causing his black hair to stick on his forehead. A small smile appeared on her lips. He closed his fingers around hers, then rested his hand other hand on her cheek, calming her mind and slowing her breathing, and putting her to rest.