Face your fears, that's a saying Ben Solo had once heard. A saying that he had once laughed in the face of, simply because he didn't have any, but he has shed that façade of Kylo Ren and has accepted himself, knowing fully well that Ben has fears. Many of them and he must look them in the eye and kill each of them. They were not allowed to control him. He was not a child anymore. He was a Jedi now and he must act as such, even if he knew that there was still Darkness inside of his heart. The lull was still there. The small tango of a dance between the sides. His heart was unsure where it belonged. The light had been...too much. It asked for more than he could provide. Something that he was not good at. The Darkness called for death far too often. He was able to get away when what he wanted but at what cost? The death of the man that stood before him. Han Solo. Ben swallows just then, hand reaching into the pocket of black pants as fingers wrap around the dice on the chain that his father used to carry with him, had on the Falcon. Fear clutches his heart, squeezing tightly as the breath catches in his lungs, drawing him toward the man he had once killed in a time that felt so long ago. "Father." He greets him, voice cracking ever so slightly. "I'm so sorry, father." It's something he has always felt the need to say, after that day upon the catwalk. "I hope that you may teach me more now that I have switched sides. I do not wish to loose you again, father."
