𝕮𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐒𝐈𝐗
━━𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑫𝑬𝑨𝑫 𝑶𝑭 𝑵𝑰𝑮𝑯𝑻

❝ 𝗧𝗵𝗲 𝗻𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁 𝗮𝘄𝗮𝗶𝘁𝘀 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗶𝘁'𝘀 𝘀𝗲𝗰𝗿𝗲𝘁𝘀. ❞

━━ 𝘊𝘌𝘝𝘈𝘙𝘠𝘈
𝟬𝟵 𝗱𝗮𝘆𝘀, 𝟭𝟳 𝗵𝗼𝘂𝗿𝘀, 𝟰𝟭 𝗺𝗶𝗻𝘂𝘁𝗲𝘀

The darkness gathers and drowns out the moonlight, dwelling in the darkest corners as tendrils of smoke rumble over untouched marble floors. The starlight falters, inky darkness replaces silvery glow as even the stars turn away upon what is wandering the empty corridors now, accompanied by night and the wind.

It has a human form - black-clothed, athletic and with swift movements, boots so silent on the polished stone that not even a whisper is to be heard.

The darkness gathers - rippling and swaying and raging, and an assassin emerges from it. Trained hands tighten around the familiar hilt of a weapon. Eyes hidden behind a wide hood scan the empty hallways, a soft breeze washes over the dark fabric, brining a hollowness and stillness with it that you only find in the dead of night.

The shadow. Darkness incarnate and feared assassin that has made a name of itself during the time it has been present within this court, it's loyalty apparently lying with who pays best. Striking like a flash of midnight, hitting where you would expects it the least – no one yet understands it's moves, and so everyone fears them.

The shadow, a name spoken with respect by those who were brave enough to do so and whispered by those who weren't; a name all-present in the heads of the council and it's court.

And now it has it's new target – a Jedi in beige robes and with a silver weapon hanging off his belt, but with an even more dangerous ally in the mysterious power they call the force.

The shadow has to be careful with this one.

And so it waits, hidden beneath a hood of darkness and mist and lies, observing, analyzing, studying this new threat. Waiting for it's next order.

And it won't fail.

The divide in Cevarya's inhabitants is like day and night – quite literally, since the rich live under the stars and the ordinary under the blazing sun.

Cevaryan days are only eight hours long, both in the hot summers and the frosty winters that occur every two standard years. Eight hours that the people seize to the fullest, from a spectacular sunrise to an early sunset that lasts extraordinarily long. It turns the sky into a battlefield of sun and moon, of orange and crimson and rose flecked with golden and indigo edges until it surrenders to silvery starlight.

During the day is when the honest people's work is done, at the harbour and the marketplaces and far out in the ocean while the courtiers catch up on the sleep they missed after a night of partying.

Neira is up before the sun, moving chess figures and putting on an armour of silk and pearl before the first rays of light even creep over the jagged mountains. She steps through the endless halls of the palace that glow golden like the sunset itself while apricot haze clings to the charcoal cliffs far below, not yet ready to drift towards the ocean and vanish in it's raging grey storm of saltwater.

But instead of seizing the sunlight, she spends her forenoons in wide halls echoing with the footsteps of ministers and consultants, eyes fixed upon blue holoscreens and processing information written in the cevaryan alphabet until her eyes get blurry. What follows are endless debates and lectures – it is the sharpest training for the mind, she thinks, and sometimes she feels like a blade being molded out of icy steel and with hardest precision, until her mind either collapses or emerges clearer than ever.

All that training, all these lessons about politics and law – trying to be good for a system she despises, a system whose downfall she is plotting.

Neira's head is thrumming with knowledge and information, but one clear thought remains: Cevarya deserves something better than the council.

Something better than the government that has brought war upon her planet once already, just about thirty years ago. Azyrn had always been a colony of Cevarya, existing peacefully a few systems away and providing them with rich resources – until the day anger stirred amongst the people, forming something violent, demanding. Azyrn's inhabitants wished to be free from the colonialists they were bound to and so their fighting began. Cevarya didn't give up, ships and armed soldiers were sent to Azyrn's surface, covering it in smoke and blood as they tried to regain their power – the result was endless bloodshed and terror.

The war lasted almost five years, taking lives and dreams with hungry, crimson stained hands and turning a once so peaceful colony into a battlefield of greater forces and a grave of their pawns.

Taking and taking and taking – and it took Neira's father, Varian Alberya who had served with his battalion and never returned, leaving broken promises and his four-year old daughter with the stars out of her reach.

Neira had been barely old enough to understand what was happening when the news of his death had been brought, but her young age and their little time spent together didn't make her miss him any less – how could she not miss her only source of warmth, the encourager of her dreams and guide to all the galaxy's wonders? Varian had once laid out the stars to his little daughter's feet, but it seems like this universe is too cruel for delicate promises like these.

Since then it had been mother and daughter, both missing a part of their lives but failing in finding it in each other again – even though Neira clings to her mother, the only family she has left. Maybe they both know that Varian couldn't be replaced, that the impact of his death has changed them forever.

But Neira has kept on his legacy, or at least a part of it: her project in the grasslands has been originally initiated by him – after all her father grew up there. Because after miles and miles of jagged mountains peaking up into the sky, the black stone fades into emerald grass and rolling hills, sparkling sapphire lakes and wide meadows – O'leyna, the endless grasslands. But these regions are poor since they are not graced by the great trade overseas Soylon profits off so greatly, and water and electricity is hard to get there.

It is Neira's mission to change that. And so she talks to ministers, organizes funds tirelessly and brings her cause before the council, again and again, making a path for better education and a way out of poverty.

While the council meets in the afternoon, Neira makes her way out into the capital. She searches out the mansions of ministers and consultants, either on her mother's behalf and to assure their political alliance, or for the benefit of her campaign. Neira assumes they could have all just met in the palace, but these politicians seem to enjoy proving their superiority – and she won't give them the satisfaction of an argument.

In the past two days she has a new companion, or better a guard – it is the Jedi, master Kenobi, and his presence really tempts her curiosity.

Neira can literally see all the stories he can tell behind his eyes, all the exciting adventures and wisdom of another person's life awaitening her, all those possibilities and different paths – it prickles on her skin like electricity, daring her to dream. A long-forgotten urge to travel and discover the galaxy awaitening her awakens in her chest, like a bird outstretching delicae wings again, ready to take off into unknown skies.

It doesn't take long until Neira stops bothering about what he might think and starts asking questions about faraway planets and creatures, about myths and cultures and the Jedi, carefully lacing their conversations with questions about his mission, testing out how much he knows – after all their time spent together is a chance to start understanding him.

Another benefit of his company is that it is rather pleasant, and more importantly he answers all her queries patiently and calmly, his voice painting pictures of a world she has never seen, of mighty creatures and whispers between the stars, stilling a thirst for knowledge Neira forgot she had.

"Tell me more about Coruscant, please. About the government there."

They are walking through the palace gardens on their way to town, shielded by thick leaves and velvet petals of exotic plants. The air smells of rich brown earth, heavy and warm on their skin as occasional rays of sunlight breaking through the roof of trees and blossoms above them turn their skin golden.

"We have a senate," Obi-Wan begins. Neira has heard about it already, but it fascinates her nonetheless. "Every planet of the republic sends their senator there to represent their homeworld, and together they decide on the galaxy's fate."

Neira's gaze wanders across the cobblestone way before them, turned golden by the sun as she quickly calculates. "But there are thousands of systems! It must take forever to make a decision. I cannot believe this works in times of war!"

"It does. It is very hard, but it works."

She tilts her head to the side. "But what if...what if there would be a more efficient way? Something more suiting the need for quick decisions? Like...if you put one person in charge, someone who is reliable and trustworthy?" She thinks of her mother, and the council.

Obi-Wan glances towards her, and she sees that he finds her point of view odd. Well done, she thinks. Very unsuspicious, your opinion. "I believe in democracy," he says.

"Democracy." The word is new, strange as it rolls over her tongue, but promising and new. Interesting. "I would like to see the senate one day."

There is the hint of a smile on his face. "You will, I am sure of it."

In the past two days Obi-Wan has been out in Soylon in order to explore the situation there – and he sees now why councilmember Alberya is so worried for her daughter: there is something going on here, a seething rage burning underneath the surface. He feels it in his bones, a gentle shaking of the ground like the vibrations that are sent through the stone before a volcano erupts. The uneasy feeling disturbs his meditations and makes him glance over his shoulder more often – the force does not feel balanced on this planet.

It is quite obvious after all. You must be surely blind, he thinks, to miss the visible dissatisfaction staining the citizen's every movement and expression like aggressive rust on usually shining iron – whereas the term dissatisfaction might rather be an understatement.

Obi-Wan's explorations of Soylon give him quite a good overview of the city's structure – there are the mansions of the rich courtiers up the mountain, as close to the palace as possible and quite as a tomb during the day. The further down to the ocean he comes, the smaller get the houses and the more people crowd the streets. And as the sounds of the city mixed with laughter and bargaining on the busy market fade into angry shouting and heated discussions, people's faces change as well.

They are angry, he can see it burning in their eyes, they are trapped and unsatisfied.

Obi-Wan presses himself against a wall as a group of protestors march past that are clearly not in the mood of talking to a stranger about their cause. Stones are thrown, fists recked into the air and a cacophony of angry voices fills the narrow lane.

Oh dear. He vanishes around the corner, observing the situation from there.

Something is wrong. He can feel it like an electric sizzle around his neck, the same feeling that makes him look over his shoulder so often. A flicker of golden light finally catches his attention: two guards are standing at the side of a small plaza the rioting people are walking towards, laserspeers recked in the air, the silent threat enhanced by elegant blasters 'attached to their belts. They seem more like puppets than humans, two ghosts in golden armour, standing side by side - because they don't move a finger as the agitated crowd walks towards them, they don't even flinch as a stone shatters a window not far away.

What were the council's words?

We are doing everything we can to stop the riots since they are a threat to both the city and ourselves.

Everything we can? Surely doesn't look like it to Obi-Wan.

He shakes his head, slowly turning away from the crowded street and the mysterious guards.

Very strange. Very strange indeed.

And there is another secret left to solve for Obi-Wan, one far more complicated as it seems: Neira Alberya.

He accompanies her during her way through the town, watching from the shadows and not missing the slightest detail – it might be useful for his actual mission after all.

Their first hours are spend in silence while he walks at her side through the wide alleys with impressive mansions to both sides and the golden roofs of the city and ocean glistening far below them. The rioting is too far away to be heard, so it is a heavy, drowsy silence only interrupted by hummingbirds and the wind sighing in the slender trees and flowery bushes, whirling dried flowerpetals over the sunbleached marble streets.

After some time she seems to have surrendered to some inner battle, because she sighs and breaks the silence. "Master Jedi, you have travelled the galaxy, right? Please tell me about it."

And so he does.

Their conversations stays polite, never crossing the border of distanced curiosity, but from time to time he sees actual interest sparking in her eyes as he tells her of his adventures as a padawan by the side of his master.

"-and then beast swallowed me in a whole."

"What?!" Neira gasps, whirling around to him, but upon seeing the sparkling in his eyes her shock fades into amusement. "You are just joking, right?"

Obi-Wan raises and eyebrow, turning towards her. "Maybe."

He continues to walk over the bridge crossing the same river that flows past the dining hall. Below him the water sparkles in amethyst and clear white as the sun dances across it's surface, vibrant, playful, as it finds its way throughout the town and towards the ocean.

Her eyes are still sparkling with delight, and he can't stop himself from feeling slightly ...proud of breaking this shell of distanced politeness.

Since then Neira hasn't stopped asking questions, and Obi-Wan finds himself rather enjoying her company – she is curious indeed, even though she doesn't seem to like admitting it. But still, the shadows of the night still seem to cling to her figure, not yet willing to reveal too much, her mysteriousity remains - even though he might have catched a glimpse upon her past.

On his first full day on Cevarya, Obi-Wan has checked her rooms for any security breaches upon suggesting it to Bryaenna.

And found himself with the whispering ghost of a child and shadows of the past.

Bitter promises linger like dark clouds on the horizon as he steps upon her balcony – in his opinion the weakest point of her rooms. His hand brushes over the rough stone of the broad railing, the once so smooth texture washed out by water and wind and the bright sun.

It is in the farthest corner where he finds a clue upon this riddle that Neira resembles. Words are etched into the stone and judging by the depth of these carves these sentences are etched into her soul, too.

Reach up. To the stars.

Obi-Wan lowers himself onto his knees, examining the bold letters and the even bolder message – apparently carved by a child's hands, and as he can tell by the harsh corners of the letters this stone has been marked with great power and emotion.

He can sense bitterness, dark memories tied up like a rotten rope, lingering like smoke and mist on a clear night. His thumb brushes over the words; the force is loaded with emotion and grief, and even though the sky is bright blue Obi-Wan feels darkness looming.

By the force, which child carves these words into stone?

The answer is as simple as it is heartbreaking.

A caged and desperate one. One that dreams – boldly, violently, wildly.

To the stars.

Obi-Wan shudders even though he does not know why ( - fate does, and it laughs upon his sweet ignorance), leaving the balcony and the bitter shadows dwelling there, still echoing with words from a lost childhood so long ago.

✧･ﾟ:* 𝕬𝘜𝘛𝘏𝘖𝘙'𝘚  𝘕𝘖𝘛𝘌 *:･ﾟ✧

HEY HEY

HERE WE GO AGAIN

ahaha so sorry for the wait, i kinda lost a bit of my motivation for writing (and i didn't have much time for it either, sadly) but here we are!!

yesss they finally get to know each other better...love to see it. also we are slowly starting with more plot now and also some more information about cevarya and it's history and - tied to that - neiras past! in the next chapters we are gonna get some more action and all the tea about what the hell is actually going on on cevarya 😌✨so stay tuned for that!! vv excited

hope you enjoyed!! 💗 see u hopefully next week aha