𝕮𝗛𝗔𝗣𝗧𝗘𝗥 𝗧𝗪𝗢
━━ 𝙃𝙊𝙈𝙀 𝙄𝙎 𝘼 𝘽𝙄𝙏𝙏𝙀𝙍 𝙒𝙊𝙍𝘿

TWELVE JEDI SIT in a circle around the two masters and their padawans. Selyn feels their gaze lingering on her briefly, and her body tingles with nervosity.

These are the best of the best; the most wise and skilled members of the order and they received the greatest honour a Jedi could – a seat in the high council. Deep awe and admiration wash over her, causing her to bow her head facing this sheer amount of sacred power.

As Selyn looks back up again, her gaze falls onto the second great marvel in this chamber: the wide windows and Coruscant's skyline behind it. Being up so far reduces the size of speeders and spaceships to ants, and the skyscrapers that are spread out beneath them seem like toys. A landscape like sharp glass shards and deep valleys of metal flashing in the sun, bustling and brimming with energy as if the planet were a living being, built from steel and glass.

It is so beautiful, Selyn almost believes to taste the crisp morning sunlight, like sweet, cold berries, still damp with the night's dew.

"Welcome you are," Yoda speaks. "A mission for you, we have." His enormous green ears twitch as he eyes the group, and again, Selyn feels like his gaze lays on her as he continues: "To Crylles you will go."

The words strike like lightning, tearing apart the sunlit canvas of a beautiful day, and Selyn inhales sharply.

Crylles. Planet of deserts and the blazing sun. Cryl-les. Home. Her mind is flooded by memories, taking her with it in itss violent currents.

Those two syllables carry the wind of the desert rushing through palm trees and narrow streets under soft, warmly twinkling starlight, swirling fine orange dust over the sandstone streets that are still warm with the day's heat. Crylles means eating sticky raisins on the marketplace right before their house, it means playing hide and seek under the trader's tables with her siblings while the hot sun is blazing down on them, turning their little faces first red and then tanned.

Crylles is the endless deserts, majestic dunes only to be crossed by those who are brave enough to dare their way through the infinite drylands, it is the hidden mysteries of the dragons and their roaring fire that lure them deeper and daunt them at the same time. Crylles means a mother applying a milk lotion on her daughter's burned cheeks after a long day out in the sun, singing a song of flame and smoke while untangling sun-bleached, white hair with patient hands.

Crylles is home. It was.

The images before Selyn's eyes fade away like leaves blown away by a dry wind as she shifts her attention to he Jedi masters before her, mind racing with the speed of a sandstorm.

Why do they send her of all padawans? Why make her face her home and her past?

The answer is laid out before her the very next second.

It is a test. They are testing her, how well she can control her emotions and her past attachments.

This will determine whether she is ready to face what once meant family and can monitor this place through the untroubled mask of a Jedi.

Selyn realizes this in one heartbeat and in the next her emotions fade away like ripples evening out in a pond, until she presents a blank face, untroubled water, a vast, empty surface mirroring the Jedi's expectations.

"As some of you might now, Crylles is ruled by a pair of monarchs." Mace Windu's eyes flicker towards Selyn as he explains.

Selyn knows, of course. The monarchs. Queen Lumiya and king Aren Solis, dearly beloved by their people. Well, more or less.

"But those monarchs are not the only ones to avail power on this planet. Different groups of Clans rule over parts of the capital and the deserts, some less and some more aggressive in their behaviour." His face is hard. "Recently there has been a tendency towards more aggressive moves, going so far that even the queen's life and the ones of citizens were under attack. The capital has grown increasingly dangerous."

Selyn's breath catches in her chest, suddenly it seems too tight. She knows the Clans from her childhood, but they have never imposed real danger upon the system. It was like an unspoken law: the clans ruled themselves and as long as they did not bother the Queen she would not take action against them either.

"Messages from the palace have reached the senate, and they seek for our help and protection." Ki-Adi Mundi nods his tall head. "After all Crylles is the largest supplier of holometal, and therefore the Senate wishes us to protect the stability of that system, especially regarding the fact that the signing of a treaty which will prolong the supply of metal for another five years is near."

Holometal - it is needed for the construction of almost every power cell – especially the ones of a holoprojector - a delicate, fluorescent metal, and the only element strong enough to conduct high amounts of energy and still able to form thin wires, small enough to fit into any electrical device or chip. And because of that it is one of the most coveted resources in the galaxy – and it's nowhere to be found in such huge masses as deep in Crylles' dunes, buried by layers of sand and stone.

"The senate wishes you to protect the monarchs to ensure that the contract is signed."

"What?"

Selyn's head whips up as she hears the last sentence, she can hardly believe the words just said. Protection only until the contract was signed? Only until the holometal coverage of the republic was secured? Rage flickers within her, white-hot, burning from the inside against her cheeks and neck.

"But- but that means they only care about the metal! What about the monarchs, what about the people? That's just so-"

Unfair. Wrong.

She hesitates mid-sentence, suddenly sensing everyone's stares, burning on her skin like laser. Embarrassment creeps up her cheeks, and for some reason it makes her even more angry. There is no reason to back up like this, she is speaking the truth!

Before Windu can answer, she feels a hand on her shoulder, and with it comes a familiar presence, calm and cool like clear water running through her fingers.

"Selyn. Calm down. It will be okay." It is Nadia, and Selyn knows that if anyone else told her to calm down in this moment it would have only led to the opposite.

But with Nadia its different. When Nadia says it will be okay, then it will be okay. This is one cosmic certainty, one constant in her life, the one thing that was true from the moment she entered the temple and that will always be true. Selyn has clung to that truth for as long as she can remember, has sought out its comfort like a blanket on a cold day and seized it's warmth like a cat curling up before a hot oven.

There is good in this world, Nadia says, and it is true when she tells it. She is a promise for hope and happy days made flesh, constant like the stars, bound by their silvery strings until she shines like one of them.

Selyn's anger vanishes, faltering like a fata morgana under the council's stares, and she realizes that this has yet become another test.

"I'm sorry," she murmurs.

She doesn't mean it.

Mace Windu continues briefing the mission, and in Selyn's head his words are blurred to a stream of fragmented pieces, information reaching her but passing without causing any response within her. Leave in two days time...queen is expecting you...republic freighter will take you...the clans...

The words reach for her, beg for her attention, but they are dismissed by the maelstrom of thoughts swirling beneath her calm expression, arising once again as she hears them talk.

The senate doesn't care about what will happen to Crylles, and neither do the Jedi as it seems. Or they might, but they bow to the senate's order. Selyn doesn't know which is worse.

By the time the group is dismissed, her fists are tightly clenched at her sides again.

"I know that you don't like this," Nadia turns her head towards Selyn who crosses the temple's halls a bit more vigorously than before the meeting. 

"We will protect the monarchs for some weeks, making sure that the republic gets their agreement for continuous holometal shipments, and then – then we just leave! Without actually fixing the problem, without even investigating the clans!"

"Well," Nadia comes to a halt, a mischievous smile on her lips. Her features are enhanced by the rich sunrise painting the sky behind them. "Who said that we won't? I know that our top priority should be the safety of the king and queen, but who am I to stop two padawans from escaping me and Master Kenobi occasionally to do some...investigations?"

"Hm." Selyn grins, relieved. Her heart feels lighter instantly, bubbling and sparkling with new-found enthusiasm. "Not my problem that you don't have your padawan under control."

Nadia rises an eyebrow, her eyes still sparking as she guides the younger girl away from the window again. "Not my problem that you are such a rulebreaker."

She squeezes Selyns hand gently. "Told you – it will be okay."

Selyn smiles.

One cosmic truth.

Proven right once again.

It is a different kind of wisdom the gardens offer, the one kind where you fall so silent you start to really, deeply listen to yourself and to what your mind tells you.

Because sometimes you don't have to search for an answer, you just have to listen to what's already within you. Nadia's words have guided her there. The purest form of wisdom, like dew on fresh green grass.

Selyn likes seeking for that wisdom, she likes hearing the melody of her breath like waves against a shore until her mind is freed from all the thoughts weighing her down. She enjoys the peace, the silence, it makes her feel like she is standing atop a ridge, alone but for the rolling hills all around her, lush green grass caressed by the wind fading into a blurry line far away.

It is exactly what she needs after the agitating scene in the council chamber.

And so she seeks comfort in the clear embrace of her own mind, resting her body on soft moss, between a bush of richest green, exotic flowers and a tree so old it's wood is twisted in the funniest ways. Hummingbirds are buzzing around her, unhurriedly flying from flower to flower. A few metres away a spring sends soft ripples against sun-warmed rocks, but the splashing and humming and swishing of the wind in the lush grass fades out as her heartbeat slows down.

Selyn easily finds the centre within her, a place filled with warm, peaceful energy.

Almost automatically the three words in cryllean language come over her, guiding her deeper into mediation like torches lighting the way. The words have become a mantra for her over the years – it is funny enough because they bring as much assurance as they bring discomfort.

Najih. Zar'rez. Atnaay.

Birth. Fire. Destruction.

Just as old as those words is the story tied to them, tightly entangled with the song of the desert winds calling people into its endless width, and the tales of those who are brave enough to get lost in them.

It is the story of the dragons living far away in the dunes of Crylles. Without wings but with a strong torso that transitions seamlessly into a long tail it resembles more a wyrm, descended from the shadows of ancient stories, able to glide through and under the sand without much resistance. It is dangerously beautiful, razor-sharp teeth and golden eyes, the majestic head is covered in scales glistening in a myriad of bronze-gold and reddish tones whenever they are graced by sunlight.

Selyn knows it's story as good as any other child born on Crylles, after all it is told in the good-night song her mother and others have always sung to her.

Najih. Birth. Tiny dragons, their skin still soft and their teeth blunt, crawl out of the broken remains of their shells, stretching their heads towards the sun that has kept their eggs warm, nurtured them and gave them the warmth to grow. And just like that, when the first sunbeams touch their body, light up the scales and automatically start their process of hardening them to bronze metal, their fate is sealed.

It must be some cruel joke of evolution, Selyn often thinks, and shudders at the thought of what happens next. A cruel joke indeed because the only species powerful enough to destroy the dragons are themselves. Too many of them would strain all food of their ecosystem, so nature has found a way that only few of them and only the strongest survive.

And so their own mothers turn against them, intending to kill them with their fire. The heat and sun must have turned them crazy, that is the only way Selyn can explain their actions, and in their madness they give in to nature's vicious cycle.

"That's- that is so...wrong!" little Selyn cried out as she heard the story for the first time. She hid her eyes behind her little hands, as if it would put any distance between her sound little world and what she just heard. "Why would they do something like that?"

"It is nature's will," her mother Adlysa says softly. "It is just the same as when racoons drive their children away when they get too big, or some birds push their babies out of the nest when they are old enough. It might seem cruel to you, but it keeps nature in balance."

She pokes her daughter's cheek. "But you will always stay in mama's nest. Promise."

(Later it turns out a lie, but in this moment, it is truth for both of them.)

Her mother keeps on telling the story.

Zar'rez. Fire. Some dragons survive, and eventually, as their mothers fade away they become stronger, more powerful until they are at the highest point of their lives – but downfall comes right after. Eggs are laid into the burning sand set on fire by the sun above them, ensuring that the next generation will grow. But with new life comes death – and ruthless madness.

The males die shortly after this process of reproduction, leaving the female dragons to rule over the desert. It is a bitter irony, they are on the zenith of their power and strength, the world is laid out before them - and still they can't prevent their destiny, still they are enslaved by nature.

Power and madness lie tragically close together in their case as they enter the final part of their lives – Atnaay. Destruction.

Whenever Selyn hears the story, she wonders if they knew. If they remembered. If they once saw their mothers turning into monsters, if they once swore to themselves to never become what they were.

She wonders if a part of the dragons fought and is still fighting while they become what they once feared, doomed to watch helplessly, tied up by fate's ice-cold chains. Or if their madness wipes out every good part of them, inevitably turns them against what they once swore to protect, what used to be the most precious to them.

Selyn doesn't know what is worse. To remember and to feel the pain, or to forget and turn numb, nothing more than a puppet on cosmic strings.

Either way, she feels a crippling mixture of disgust and pity for them, an icy ache pressing around her chest like a metal string, squeezing her lungs tightly.

Pity, because they are helpless in their rage, for the agony they must be in. The feeling of disgust that arises in her is a bit harder to explain, Selyn doesn't even really understand herself why she feels that way. Maybe it is disgust upon the universe that it dooms those creatures to such a cruel ending. But deep down, maybe it is upon the dragons that they could bend to their nature that way, that they didn't fight.

Maybe it is disgust, that they just gave up. That none of them managed to break through the circle.

Maybe it is disgust, because the alternative would be fear. Because if even they did not manage to be free from their fate, who will?

Or, sometimes she thinks, maybe they just didn't try hard enough. Maybe they were too weak.

She would try harder.

✧･ﾟ:* 𝕬𝘜𝘛𝘏𝘖𝘙'𝘚 𝘕𝘖𝘛𝘌 *:･ﾟ✧

selyn @ the council:

i would too tbh 😌

but anyways HELLO HELLO

yuh those dragons are real sweethearts 🥴

but their story is actually a very big part of selyns character that will gain on importance throughout the story so i'm super happy to start introducing this theme!

also selyn yelling at the council as she should ❤️ she's got some temper ✌🏻

anyways, this was chapter two!! i hope you liked it and pls tell me your thoughts 🤲🏼💞

thank you so much for reading, i hope you enjoyed!! have a great day :))

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