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Before that day, Ben Solo did not know a single thing about Arkanis. His training at the Jedi Academy had briefly touched on it as a planet of the Outer Rim. In passing and hushed whispers, he had heard this mother talk about it as a possible hide-out for lingering Imperials.
Now Ben knew that Arkanis was wet, that it was cold, that the skies were a dishwater grey and the land a lush emerald forest. The habitants were relatively well adapted to their cruel environment and did not seem to take kindly to outsiders. Especially outsiders arriving in an Alliance T-1 shuttle.
The most important thing Ben learned was that Arkanisians were superstitious, more so than his old Uncle Luke. His mission was a confusing one, the end game to placate a wealthy figurehead of the planet, Brendol Hux, whose teenaged son had died unexpectedly. The young man, Armitage, had been rumored to be a witch or some sort of folk magician for years, and before falling ill and passing, he demanded that the young Jedi padawan Ben Organa Solo keep his vigil. The local villagers feared that if the witch did not get his way, a horrible curse would be put upon them all.
“If old Imperials still hiding out there, we need to keep a good relationship with the local government,” was all Leia Organa said to her son’s protest. “They may seem strange and backwards, but remember, it was the simple creatures of Endor that helped us bring down the second Death Star.”
Backwards did not even begin to describe it.
Ben was brought a small village nestled among the trees. Their thick canopy managing to protect it from most of the rain. The houses were all made from wood and stone and were decorated with many trinkets that he imaged must have been designed to ward off the witch’s dark power.
The villagers fed him some sort of watery root soup with bird legs charred over an open fire. There was ale and Ben drank heartily of it.
When the time came to go to the tomb, Ben felt like the world was spinning. Few among the villagers were brave enough to take him down to the stone house with the thatched roof; the tomb where the witch laid. They undid the many locks on the door and gave him their simple flame torch and bid him good luck for the evening.
“It’s only until the morning, right?” Ben asked with a little hiccup.
“Only until the morning,” a solemn woman nodded to his words. “Use your torch to light the candles. We will be locking the doors once you’re inside so,” her pale eyes looked past him, into the dark house, “just be warned, we will not return until we see the sun.”
“You know,” Ben said quickly just as his guides began to pull their hoods up over their heads, “I have never met Armitage Hux before. Are you sure he asked for me to do this?”
“We are sure, Ben Solo,” said the woman. “Good luck, and may the force be with you.”
The sound of the locks clicking into place echoed through the tiny hut. Ben brought the torch to the first set of candles he could see, but as he drew near each wick on every candelabra around the room roared to life. Ben yelped at the sudden explosion of light. The flames soon calmed and cast a soft ambient glow around the space. Ben could see more of the strange trinkets he had seen around the village as well as some curious symbols painted on the walls.
At the center of the hut was a sight that made Ben’s blood pulse cold; a wooden casket. It was surrounded by a mountain of simple white flowers, perhaps the only kind that actually grew on Arkanis. Before it was a multi-tiered library stand with a single book left open on the angled top tier. Cautiously, Ben approached the stand to see what had been left there for him.
The words, though lovingly penned, were not in a language he recognized. He flipped a bit through the pages, once more admiring the calligraphy and some of the artwork, but all of it was meaningless.
Being so close to the casket made Ben feel a bit braver. He had never seen a dead body before, such practices of laying out the departed were considered gauche in a modern, post-war era. The last person in his own family to be presented as such had been his beloved grandmother, who had died unexpectedly in childbirth. The ale in Ben’s mind kept egging him on, telling him to take a peek at the so-called dead witch. A part of him did wonder what this fearsome creature that he had to travel half a galaxy for looked like.
Ben felt absolutely sick when he finally saw him. It was indeed a young man, perhaps no older than he, neatly dressed in a white gown with his hands folded over his lap. He did not look dead, more as though he had fallen into an unexpected nap, with his long red hair playfully splayed out over the pillow on which he lay. A crown of the same white flowers that surrounded the simple casket had been placed on his head. His skin was pale as moonglow, near translucent, as Ren could make out the blue veins beneath. The same blue that tinged his lips, still looking full and pouty.
“Are you really a witch?” Ben whispered to the corpse. Of course, the corpse said nothing.
“I don’t think you look like a witch. Then again, I don’t think I know what a witch is supposed to look like.” Ben sighed, “Forgive me, I think I might have had too much to drink…”
Again, the corpse said nothing.
“You’re very beautiful,” Ben said a bit more loudly. He waited for some sort of repercussion, from Armitage or otherwise, but nothing happened. “Why did you ask for me?” He then asked, “I have never met you before! You know, I do have better things than come to backwater planets and stay up with pretty witches!”
Again, the corpse said nothing.
“Whatever!” Ben huffed as he walked away from the casket. Maybe he could try and decipher what the bo-
“Ben Solo!” Ben turned, wide-eyed to see the corpse of Armitage Hux now sitting upright in the casket. His eyes were that of a living man; bright with sea-green iris’s and wide pupils focused on him.
“Kriff!” Ben cried, tumbling into the library stand. “Kriff, kriff, KRIFF!”
The corpse slowly levitated up and out from the casket, eyes locked with Ben’s as he lowered himself to a small hover above the floor. The white gown billowed as if caught in a windstorm.
“Ben Solo, son of the hero Han Solo and the Princess Leia Organa. Nephew to the Jedi Master, Luke Skywalker.” Armitage’s still blue lips curled into a smile, “Do you know why I brought you here?”
Ben opened his mouth, but no noise, not even a panicked whimper came out.
“Your family destroyed the Galactic Empire, the legacy of my family. Because of them, we were banished to this miserable planet to suffer and die!” Armitage began to slowly float towards Ben. As he did so, life seemed to return to more of his features; pink to the apples of his cheeks and lips, his hair began to grow more vibrant, dancing like the flames that surrounded them. “And you, precious prince of the stars, live a life of luxury! The life of a Jedi padawan, disciple to his heroic uncle.”
“I-I-had nothing to do with that!” Ben finally managed. “I had nothing to do with any of this!”
“Just as I had nothing to do with my own fate!” Armitage roared. “But tonight, our destinies will become one, Ben Solo. Together, you and I will rule this galaxy, as light and dark. As two halves to one whole.”
“What?” Ben asked as he scrambled to his feet, “Rule? Rule how?”
“You, my prince of the stars, grandson of Queen Amidala,” Armitage was so close now, Ben could see the freckles on his cheeks and the gold flecks in his eyelashes, “you will make me your bride.”
“But you’re dead!”
“Am I?” Armitage smirked, “I heard what you said about me…,” he lowered his voice, “you think I’m beautiful.”
“I…uh…”
Without looking away, Armitage raised a single hand and blew the locked door off its hinges.
“Kriff…”
“Take me as your bride, and we will be an unstoppable force. I will become human once more, alive once more. All you have to do it kiss me.”
“And,” Ben swallowed hard, “if I don’t?”
“Then at sunrise, I return to my casket; forever.”
Ben could the warmth radiating from Armitage. He was alive, humming with electricity. He was beautiful and wild (and possibly evil).
“You’ll be human?” Ben asked, reaching out to hold Armitage’s face in his hands. “As in-”
“As in we will consummate our union,” Armitage’s eyes became lidded. “All you have to do is…”
Ben pulled Armitage’s face in and their lips met, soft and chaste. It was the most wonderful feeling that radiated all through Ben, down through his toes and fingers. Armitage must have felt the same as he broke their kiss with a pleased little purr.
“The galaxy is ours,” he whispered. Ben noticed for the first time Armitage was no longer floating. “Come,” he held out his hand, “let our reign begin.”
Together they walked, hand-in-hand, back down to the village.