𝕮𝗛𝗔𝗣𝗧𝗘𝗥 𝗙𝗢𝗨𝗥
━━ 𝙏𝙒𝙊 𝙂𝙃𝙊𝙎𝙏𝙎

...𝘳𝘦𝘮𝘦𝘮𝘣𝘦𝘳 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘸𝘦 𝘶𝘴𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘦 𝘴𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘴?

━━ 𝘊𝘙𝘠𝘓𝘓𝘌𝘚
𝟸𝟹 𝙱𝙱𝚈

The thud of the starship attaching to the landing platform echoes through Anakin like the beat of a drum.

As he looks to his right, he can see that the same sound is resonating within Selyn as well; the involuntary shiver that goes through her body, her lips pressed into a thin line, her hands that tighten around the hilt of her saber firmly.

Anakin is worried for her, he can easily say that his excitement for what they will find on Crylles has been replaced by concern about how Selyn will handle it. He does not wish for her to be upset.

Her nervousness jumps onto him like sparks spreading a wildfire, he can't prevent it from rushing through his veins and filling him up with it's energy until he is brimming with impatience, too.

Obi-Wan is standing to his left, a calming presence as always. His face is relaxed, even curious to what he will find, and there's an ease to how he stands that Anakin admires and automatically tries to imitate. His master shoots a reassuring look towards him.

And then there's Nadia, right next to Selyn, and in a way she is Obi-Wan's counter pole: she carries the same calmness in her, but her energy is more vibrant, more outgoing, the excitement in her eyes bright and joyful. Anakin can see her left hand holding Selyn's other hand - the one that isn't gripping the lightsaber - and squeezing it as the loading ramp opens.

At first it is just a narrow strip of sunlit sky, a vibrant band of azure broadening as the metal door opens. Warm light pours into the hangar, and the four Jedi squint their eyes.

The first thing he notices as a dry wind sweeps into the hangar is the scent. Intense. Wild. Musky. It carries a note of adventure, of legends, of gods and dragons.

He is familiar with the scent of the desert – the taste of sand and heat, of dust settling on his tongue. But this is different from Tatooine, rich with flavours he doesn't know, heavy with the scent of flowers, dry herbs, and palm trees.

And there is something else to it, something sharp and rich, heavy...like rain.

Selyn next to him inhales deeply, eyes closed as a smile spreads over her face.

"You can smell it, too, right?" she asks. He nods.

"It's the water beneath the dunes and little organisms in the sand that also cause it's red colour," she explains.  

And then, as the ramp fully lowers, he can see Crylles stretching out before them.

The first thing Anakin notices are the faintly visible rings in the sky above them, looking as if a giant creature had scratched its claws across the clear blue and left its marks. The living rings, Selyn had told him. It was said that everyone who died found their place in that rock formations, guarding Crylles for eternity. 

Behind the edges of the landing platform a city is becoming visible in the fine dust hanging in the air, sharp silhouettes of buildings forming a skyline filled with exquisite, delicate forms.

The houses look like temples to him, shimmering golden in the sun, with countless cupolas and wide sandstone arches. There are broad streets, crowded with people in colourful clothing, banthas and retailers pulling their goods on carts behind them. Green flashes between those hues of orange and beige, palm trees and some vines curling off high walls, and from some windows sheets hang to dry.

"Sol city – it means sunlight city. That's what the capital is called." Selyn's voice cuts through the astonished silence, and if Anakin listens closely, he can hear the quiver in her voice.

There couldn't be a more fitting name indeed. The roofs are flashing golden, bright flares of sunlight dropped from the sky by a god's careless hands.

Heat envelops Anakin tightly, a warm blanket pressing onto him that makes it hard to breathe as they step out of the freighter's shadow. His clothing is way too thick, he can't recall why he was stupid enough to put on those thick robes for their mission.

An escort of guards is waiting for them. He sees Selyn's breath catch in her chest as her eyes wander over their faces – he knows that she is searching for a familiar feature, but she doesn't seem to find any. He cannot tell if that calms her down of upsets her even more.

But before he can say some words of reassurance, the first guard steps forward.

"Be welcome to Crylles." It is a woman, her face is beautiful in a way that metal is beautiful – rough, uncarved, unyielding. Her words flow in a different melody, a tone similar to what he has heard from Selyn sometimes whenever she speaks and is agitated. "It is an honour receiving you here, Jedi," she adds.

She turns her hands towards her chest, and joins them at the thumbs, vaguely resembling the shape of a bird and its wings. The others behind her join her in that gesture and lower their chin in a respectful way.

It is the greeting in the cryllean culture, Selyn tells him later. It is supposed to show a desert dragon growing wings, after a myth in which one of them once was strong enough to do so and fly towards the sun. But it is nothing more than a myth, there has never been a dragon with wings. Still, it is a sign of impossible strength and greatest respect.

The guards carry spears he hasn't seen before – slim, long and made of metal with a wooden centrepiece. Both ends are razor sharp blades gleaming in the sun's light, as elegant as they are deadly.

The little group of Jedi follows the guards after a short explanation that the king and queen are both awaiting them from the landing platform into the buzzing town.

Anakin can't stop staring, he has rarely seen a city as vibrant as Sol city – the rich flowers with their heavy petals, the delicious smell of street food sold in little shops by the roads, all those people laughing and chattering and arguing, music is coming from a distant corner and the houses are decorated with colourful, little murals. He distantly hears Selyn describe everything she sees to Nadia, but he's too taken up in his own observations to really acknowledge the words.

Anakin sees Selyn hesitate, her voice thinning slightly, as they cross a market place, there is so much agony and yearning in her eyes that his heart hurts and the urge to take her hand arises within him, if only to cease those lines of sadness. 

„We used to live here," she says shortly, noticing him looking at her.

They pass a wide plaza with some sort of golden altar in the centre of it; people are crowded around it and watching a ceremony held by two priests in obsidian garments.

„What is this ceremony held for?" he asks.

"They worship the dragon goddess," Selyn explains. "On Crylles the people believe that every dragon that dies joins an immortal, mighty presence – Avaar, goddess of fire and life, powerful enough to make the skies themselves bleed every ten years."

Anakin would have loved to learn more about Crylles' religion, but a moment later they turn around the corner of an opulent mansion, and an avenue carved of gold and sandstone lies before them, leading to the royal citadel.

If the city was already beautiful, the citadel is the work of gods. Delicately formed and yet strong and mighty it towers up before them, its ornaments so bright it hurts the eye. Strong sun-bleached pillars and twisted cupolas, high walls in dark orange and tones of brown to be walked by guards.

They reach the citadel, are led through a wide hall and towards a massive door, and the first guard knocks three times. 

What is a ghost?

It is something haunting, a presence barely recognizable, wispy and fleeting like dawn's touch. Something that has fallen out of place, a lost piece of a mosaic, once so vibrant colours turned grey by the years that passed.

A ghost doesn't belong anymore.

It should have moved on already, should have left behind what is out of their ghostly finger's reach, it should be at peace.

But it isn't. Unwilling to give up it clings to blurred lines, hazy memories lost in the flow of time.

Selyn feels like a ghost. She, too, is haunting halls she has left so long ago. But at the same time she feels like her environment that is ghostly, not her, like she is the only living thing in a cold memory, sent back in time but not anchored in the moment. Fleeting, passing in a heartbeat.

The citadel is like she remembers it and yet different, she is gazing though a mirror that is distorted by the time that has passed. It is unsettling in a way to see the places of her childhood changed so deeply, but maybe...maybe it is just her who has changed so much.

Maybe she doesn't want to find what awaits her.

But the decision is taken from her, regardless of her doubt, as the doors to the throne room open with a silent whoosh.

Sky-high pillars to their left and right, painted with the colours of the desert, expensive rugs draped on the walls and partly covering the polished floor of finest, shining marble which reflects the Jedi as they cross it - the throne room showcases Crylles' enormous wealth gained through the trade with holometal.

Queen Lumiya Solis and her king are awaiting them – technically both of them hold the same power, but tradition has established the queen in a far more powerful position and left the king with quite little influence.

But it is not the royal couple drawing Selyn's attention.

An emotion stirs inside her like a sandstorm, excitement and fear rushing through her veins, threatening to flow over. Her heartbeat is too loud in her ears, the hall suddenly too small.

Selyn's vision narrows down onto the woman standing on the right side of the throne. Upright, strong, like a golden lioness that is aware of the power she holds, her face is calling towards Selyn, tugging on her memory.

Our paths might cross, she has said to Anakin.

She knows those lines, the curve of her mouth, the colour of her eyes.

Her mother.

Adlysa Val'aeon, great storyteller and patient listener, unbelievably devoted to the queen just like the rest of her family, a safe haven for a five year old girl to return to every night.

Adlysa's stern expression quivers slightly as her eyes fall upon Selyn and her eyes widen. Relief is crystal clear on her face, her eyes bright as a spring's cold stream and she seems to fight a smile. But the next second she remembers her position and her expression evens out until nothing about her gives away that she might be recognizing her daughter. Still, Selyn can feel her gaze rest on her the entire time, heavy with emotion.

"Master Vandaar and Master Kenobi, Padawan Skywalker and Val'aeon. You are welcomed in our halls. We are infinitely thankful that you followed our call for help."

Queen Lumiya's voice cuts through the loaded silence like a knife and Selyn gathers enough concentration to bow before her like the others do.

But then she lets her gaze wander further, over the blonde haired guard to her mother's left onto the others silently towering at the sides.

Hold on.

There it is again, this peculiar feeling of something familiar tugging at the far corner of her memory.

This face is familiar, too. The one next to Adlysa. Selyn's chest is too tight, and if she wasn't standing in the center of the throne room she would be stumbling to the ground.

Nadia must have sensed the emotion boiling inside her, because her hand reaches for Selyn's. But she barely feels the reassuring touch.

The woman she is looking at stands tall like her mother, hands clasped around her spear. Familiar blonde hair, almost the same shade as Selyn's, her lips are a bit fuller than they were as a child and her face has grown even more beautiful.

It is Cleodys, it must be her. Selyn would have recognized the confident rise of her chin anywhere, the stern look of her eyes.

But different to her mother there is recognition, but no emotion in them as she looks at Selyn, only cold distance and maybe even anger it's frost biting into her heart. And then Cleodys turns her head away.

Selyn's mind falls still.

Don't you remember me? She wants to shake her sister, get any other response than that icy stare.

"Your journey must have been hard," the queen says graciously. "I assume you want to rest so that we can discuss the reason you are here at a given time."

It seems like a kind gesture that the queen is so concerned for their well being, but Selyn sees something else in it, too - Nadia as well because she shoots her padawan a brief glance, eyebrows raised. This matter is complex, and not to be dealt with lightly and with everyone listening. Not even the queen's trusted guards.

"Thank you," Obi-Wan speaks up. "You are very kind."

The queen nods, pleased. "You will be guided to your accommodations."

To Selyn's shock her mother steps forward to do so. As they leave the hall, she turns around, trying to catch one more glimpse at her sister. But Cleodys turns around, without a word and without looking at her again.

Selyn's mouth tastes bitter, like ash.

A place that once meant home. And a stranger that used to be her sister.

They reach the rooms that are assigned to them, spacious and beautiful like the rest of the palace. Again, Anakin and Obi-Wan take one and Selyn and her master occupy the other.

Adlysa hesitates at the door, and so does Selyn. Before she can say or do anything, Nadia has understood.

„I will leave you two," she says. „There was this beautiful garden that I saw on the way here, I'd love to take a look at it."

She winks at Selyn and smiles reassuringly, turning towards the door.

The room is empty after Nadia has left, a space where the warm summer air got sucked out, leaving only cold reality.

Adlysa walks towards the windows of the room, the cape on her shoulders whispering across the floor. Selyn stays where she is, unsure, hands clasped together. The silence weighs heavy on them, filled to the brim with unspoken words, suffocating and draining, but loaded with emotion.

Selyn gets less brave with every second that passes.

The mosaic on the floor, the pale white curtains swaying in the warm breeze, the two broad arches serving both as windows and doors towards the balcony towards a little garden. The wind bristling in the palm trees outside. The woman before her, so familiar it hurts and so unfamiliar it makes her want to leave this planet and never come back. Her proud, wide stance, the blood-red cape and the golden ornaments of her armor glistening in the sunlit room, the golden tone of her hair that used to tickle Selyn's forehead whenever she kissed her good-night.

Selyn takes in all those details withing seconds, trying to fill the stillness stretching out in her mind and between them.

Adlyssa stands like a goddess, carved from rock and wind and sand, like she belongs here, grounded and brimming with energy. Her presence dominating the room. And then there's Selyn, nothing but a ghost haunting those halls, pale padawan's clothing, huge eyes, an unfamiliar weapon on her hilt. Shivering on the inside.

But then her mother turns around, and Selyn realizes that they are both ghosts, whispy forms of smoke quivering with insecurity. They both are silver memories made flesh, only bound by a single, delicate thread threatening to collapse any moment.

"Selyn," she says, and the sound of her name is a golden call – a child's name on their mother's lips after years of separation is a fragile bond, a treaty yet to be reinforced by the other side. Selyn knows that now. "The market is still held every second day, you know,"Adlysa continues. "Just in case...you might want to visit."

A tentative smile is on her lips, and Selyn sees the same fear now mirrored in her eyes that has plagued her the entire morning: that the person they are looking for has changed beyond recognition, two strangers, two ghosts with no words to say anymore.

And so she says: "I'd love to, I missed it a lot."

A heartbeat later she adds quietly: "Ma, I am still the same. I'm still the same Selyn in here." Clumsily she covers her chest and the beating heart within, desperate to show her point.

"Oh, sweetheart. My firefly." Her mother exhales and with that a tension falls off them, releasing them from the tight grip it has held both of them in the past minutes.

Fireflies. That's what Adlysa used to call her children when they both buzzed around their dad, excited to hear their father's stories about space and it's adventures, cuddled up next to each other, eyes wide with wonder.

Only one of them made it into the galaxy they dreamt of. The other stayed on Crylles with the visions of it painted above her.

Selyn doesn't know what happens, like a puppet cut off it's strings she does the only thing that seems natural to her: searching for her mothers embrace. And Aldysa holds her tightly in her arms, her fingers stroking over her daughter's braided hair. The familiar scent hits Selyn like a wave, sweeping her off her feet and bringing such an overwhelming feeling of safety and home with it that her knees get weak. Long-forgotten and because of that even more vibrant, even more special to her.

"Who did your hair like that? It's pretty." Adlysa loosens their embrace, holding her daughter on arm's length and examining her face, taking in every detail.

"Oh, Nadia did that. My master," Selyn explains. "It's a tradition between us."

Her mother smiles. "Just like Cleodys used to do it."

Selyn nods, looking downwards. Her sister's name destroys the comforting atmosphere with the impact of an asteroid, bringing back cold gazes and the Cleodys of her childhood far out of her reach.

"She...she didn't seem very happy to see me, Ma."

"I know, honey." Her mother kisses her forehead. "She changed after you left. It deeply impacted her, you know, and she hasn't spoken to me about it ever since."

The pain in her voice is sharp like broken glass, and so evident in her face that Selyn's heart tightens. Adlysa had always been proud to have a strong bond to each of her children, a counsellor and a best friend to them, and so the fact that she cannot reach Cleodys hurts her even more.

"Maybe she will come back to you," she says. "Just give it a little time."

A little time. Selyn nods.

Maybe one day.

Two ghosts stand, but they flicker from time to time. They are a bit more grounded now, a bit more real.

✧･ﾟ:* 𝕬𝘜𝘛𝘏𝘖𝘙'𝘚 𝘕𝘖𝘛𝘌 *:･ﾟ✧

^^me watching the val'aeon family drama

ALSO we starting strong this chapter with some anakin POV 🤩

but besides that...some happy and not so happy family reunions and a vv sexcy desert city. this chapter was very description heavy to set the scene but i hope it was alright!!

next chapters gonna explore crylles a bit further and we'll get to know cleodys closer 🧐🧐

pls tell me your thoughts bc i need validation 😙✌🏻

hope you have a great night & thank u for reading!! ❤️❤️

ALSO

LOOK AT THIS MASTERPIECE BY togrutas she drew Selyn for us!! absolutely sexcy of her go give her some love!! 🤬❤️

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