𝐑𝐀𝐆𝐄 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐄𝐒 ━━ obi-wan kenobi

✧ ⋆ . ˚━━ 𝙞𝙫

It is Cevarya's outstanding wealth that makes this life of partying and pleasure possible – Mace Windu has already hinted it before, but Obi-Wan doesn't realize it's extent until the experiences it himself. Ambassadors from past (and very few) missions to Cevarya have already raved about the huge mansions gathered around the palace and from where the elite drives up to the palace in the evening, they have marvelled about the wide ocean and majestic mountains, colorful sunsets and magnificent night skies.

But Obi-Wan wasn't willing to believe them fully. Not until he has set foot onto the planet himself.

His starship shudders as it gently hits Cevaryan ground for the first time and his cockpit opens up, letting a warm summerbreeze rush through his hair – it smells of salt and heavy flowers and crystal springs high in the mountains. The wind carries the sounds of the city, chattering and shouting, metal hitting onto metal and sea birds squeaking with the rolling tides.

Now, that he walks to the edge of the circular landing platform, stretching out his muscles from the long flight, he fully agrees with those ambassadors. The black sandstone platform is at the bottom of the palace, but still high over the ocean and the capital Soylon. Bright daylight turns golden roofs and fountains into glistening spots of light – the filigrane, white buildings contrast with the rough mountains that seem to swallow up every sunbeam that touches them. The houses get smaller the further down to the coast they are, and at the bottom of the bay he can just barely see something that must be the haven and the beach – it is hard to tell with the frothing up spray from the waves crashing against the shore.

Impressive, he thinks, very impressive indeed.

"Welcome." A small escort of guards is already approaching him, their golden armors shining as they walk over the bridge to the platform. The first of them is speaking.

"We are honored to welcome you on Cevarya, Master Jedi," he says. As the guard speaks the last syllables he crosses his hands over his chest before laying three fingers onto his forehead and bows down before Obi-Wan.

The Cevaryan greeting, he recalls. Sign for an open heart and a clear mind. It is a centuries-old gesture that is still used to honor a person of great respect.

"The honor is all mine," he replies, bowing slightly.

Obi-Wan gestures R4 to follow him as the guards encircle him to guide him to the palace that he now fully sees for the first time – and for a splitsecond he is a padawan again, seventeen years old, face round and a braid dangling from his head, marvelling about the wonders this galaxy has to offer.

The palace is a masterpiece of glass and white marble and another translucent stone he has never seen before, forming sharp arches and towers reaching up into the sky, their peaks reflecting the sunlight and thin bridges connecting them. The building looks like a prisoner amongst the mountains, as if it was born from them and never fully escaped their grip. Despite its size it seems weightless and elegant, a gracefully carved extension of the mountain it is on.

Obi-Wan enters through wide doors and his eyes have to adjust to the shadows for a second –without the sun shining down on him, it is slightly cooler as well. It is quiet now, the winds from the capital don't reach up that far, and he feels as if he has entered a sanctuary: pure, wide and peaceful, only the melody of birds chirping and distant laughter as his footsteps echo through the spacious marble halls.

The guards come to an halt in front of a huge panoramic window facing the ocean and Obi-Wan stops. He can't help but notice that Cevaryans seem to be quite eager to show off their beautiful home – they have enough reason to do so though. Far below him waves roll towards the shore, and inlands he can see the tiny blobs of citizens on a square that must be a large marketplace. R4 whines beside him, drawing Obi-Wan's attention to the two people entering the room.