Character
PHYSICAL DESCRIPTION
The young jedi is a zabrak, still a bit short for his age. For a lot of people, his size, his weight, seems to be those of a younger zabrak than himself. Even if Zevran likes to think of this as just a setback, he is probably never going to get as tall as his peers. Outside of his size, it's easy to see that the zabrak maintains an athletic condition, being fit for his size and liking to put his speed and agility to the test. The young padawan can be recognized by the little horns, four of them, on the top of his head, and the tribal tattoos on his face. Tattoos he got from coruscant, very young, as a memory of the people he grew up with. Zevran has a beige skin, with black tatoos and few brown hair. He only has a small amount of hair, just a mohawk with a braided ponytail behind him.
Most of the time, the little zabrak can be seen with a smile on his face and jedi robes on him. Ever since he joined the temple, Zevran has always worn the Order's robes. His are of a dark brown, with a slightly darker belt. He wears dark leather boots most of the time. On his belt there are multiple pouches with a bit of everything - mostly useless stuff that he likes to collect. However, there is just one thing that can easily attract attention outside the temple, the weapon and tool of a Jedi: his padawan lightsaber.
For those encountering the zabrak for the first time, he seems like someone sure of himself, curious, with a strangely calm presence despite his more vigorous personality. Zevran is a strange encounter for some people, sometimes being calm like you would expect a jedi to be, sometimes way more hasty on certain subjects.
INVENTORY
Zevran does not possess a lot of things. Aside from his Jedi robes, the one thing he holds dear is his lightsaber — the symbol of what he did, of what he is, and to him, of what he will be. The little weapon is his pride: a short one fitting his size, with a silver grip and a black chamber to hold the kyber crystal igniting his blue blade.
PERSONALITY AND BELIEFS
The galaxy is a vast place. There are too many planets to see, yet this is something he has always wanted to do. When you're born below the surface on Coruscant, hearing of a thousand worlds with different landscapes sounds more like a child's dream than reality. Yet Zevran has always wanted to see the galaxy for what it is — to witness worlds of sand, of trees, of oceans. Just stories he heard as a child. But now more than ever, his will to see the galaxy is at the center of his life.
Curious about this and many other things, the Padawan can appear hasty and impatient when he knows there is something to be seen. For the Padawan, wonders are meant to be seen, felt, and understood. His eagerness to discover and explore is often what could be described as the first impression when meeting Zevran. When people get to know the young Zabrak a bit better, he shows a different side. Despite his still very present eagerness to explore, he is generally far more level-headed in other circumstances. He is more focused, calmer, when the situation does not revolve around discovering new landscapes or unknown places. Zevran is honest, judgmental, and quite cynical. Most of the time, he doesn't refrain from saying what he thinks, not really considering the consequences of his words. For some, it can easily be seen as a lack of respect — for he will not hesitate to speak his mind, regardless of the rank of whoever he's talking to. Holding strong beliefs of his own, he doesn't hesitate to go against common opinions or to speak out of turn. Even though acting on it can be trickier, he might still go on, if he believes it's the right thing to do.
On a more ethical side, Zevran embraced the Jedi beliefs when he joined the Order and is very thankful for his chance to escape the lower levels of Coruscant. Still, he can't help but think the Jedi don't truly know the galaxy — for life down there was very different from what he experienced in the Jedi Temples. He believes that helping those in need is essential, and that consequences are irrelevant when the time comes to make the right choice. In his mind, what matters is acting for good — not planning for the best. Zevran has a deep connection to the Force but has always struggled to truly understand it, especially on Coruscant. His arrival on Tython changed a few things, and most of the time he can now be seen outside, often meditating when he is not chasing beautiful places. According to him, he seems to hear the planet — to feel things he never truly felt before. A true fascination seems to have emerged since he set foot on the world, and because of that, he now seeks answers in the Force.
His lack of understanding of the Force affected the young Zabrak. Despite his recent success since arriving on Tython, he still carries with him the difficulties he once faced. The troubles and doubts still linger in his mind, constantly clashing with the dream he holds close — the one that guides his actions. Though Zevran remains a calm individual most of the time — aside from his bursts of enthusiasm for discovery — those doubts and struggles are still a significant part of his life, as he still doesn't know how to deal with them effectively.
STRENGTHS
Crafty, agile, levelheaded.
WEAKNESSES
Disturbed, judgemental, hasty.
HISTORY
I was born on Coruscant. I don't remember much about my earliest days — all I know is that I was born in a shady clinic in the lower levels of Coruscant. I never knew my parents. Nobody around me really knew theirs anyway. I grew up surrounded by friends, in a bad place on a bad world. But I can't complain. It wasn't that bad. The local people cared for the bunch of Zabrak orphans around.
The eldest in our little group said our people had to have tattoos, so we got tattoos made — despite not knowing a damn thing about what they meant. I spent my first years watching a sky of concrete and steel, hearing stories about worlds far, far away — with water everywhere, trees as tall as the buildings around us, and landscapes filled with nothing but sand. But it was all just a dream to me. At that time, even the very idea of a free sky was a wonder.
When I was around three years old, my friends took me to their favorite place. It was a long trip, especially with someone as young as me, so when we arrived, it was too late to see what they loved so much. But it was enough. I don't know the exact word, but what I saw looked like a hole in the concrete — maybe an elevator shaft. From where we stood, we could see the sky. The real sky. The night made it black, with only the dancing lights of ships and vehicles above us. A marvelous sight, back then. And beyond that — the stars, shining bright in the canopy of heaven. The world of steel and concrete had an exit, a tiny place where we could dream about reaching the stars and finding those wonderful worlds from the stories. One more dream for us — one we all shared. Every time we talked about stars and distant places, we ended up speaking about the brightest star. It was some strange notion we all joked about, because if every star shines... one must shine the brightest.
We young ones hoped to one day work on one of the many cargo ships flying around. To have the means to leave behind those mountains of concrete and walls of steel. Any way out was good enough. We all wanted to leave, to chase that shared dream. As long as we could reach the stars, any means was right.
We couldn't say we'd been mistreated. Even as we grew older and became more of a burden, the people around us helped — giving what they could, so we could eat and drink. Of course, there were places we should never go. And people we should never meet. But as long as we followed the rules of the levels below the surface, it was safe enough. There was always a bit of work for young ones with sharp ears — fast and small enough to stay out of sight and bring back words to those who could pay.
The stories might have held some truth. Around a year after discovering the sky, the eldest of our group — Tharik — left. He found a job somewhere in the higher levels, an opportunity to grow and see the stars. As strange as it sounds, I think I always knew he would go. Some little feeling in my spine. Barely a year later, I was the one to leave the lower levels. I remember that day — we were out, on a pointless run to find another way up, another place from which we could marvel at the stars. On the way, we came across some people going down. One of them wore a robe. I stayed behind, watching him with an unexplainable interest. Something drew me to him. I guess he felt something too... I had always been a bit different from the others — like I could feel strange things, like with Tharik. But that day, it was something else. Some strange connection that made me stay. In the end, it was by some strange twist of fate that a Jedi found me. I had the potential to join the Order — to become one of the peacekeepers, the heroes of our legends and stories. Myths, for those of us who lived beneath the ground. Apparently, I was strong in the Force. That would explain the strange things I used to feel, I guess. That would explain the subtle difference between me and my friends back then. I didn't think it would be my way up — but it was. No doubts, no hesitation from me. It was my calling, I suppose. Just like Tharik, a while earlier.
I was still young — barely four years old at that point. But going outside for the first time, seeing the sky from somewhere else than a hole in the ceiling… I'll never forget it. I'll always remember how big Coruscant looked — and more than anything, how vast the sky was. How big the sun was. And how vast the galaxy must be. When I stared at the sun, I wondered: could one star truly shine brighter than this one? After all, its light touched all of Coruscant. But I guess… there's only one way to find out.
The farewells were hard, yet I didn't truly understand their meaning — no more than I had months earlier, when Tharik left. In the Temple, I found a new home, yet it was a strange place to live in. The Jedi trained me as well as they could. I wasn't easy — at least, I don't think I was. At first, they asked me and the other younglings to open ourselves, to look within, to learn to feel our inner selves — to meditate. It was all quite new to me, yet I felt like it was something I could do. Losing myself inwardly didn't seem hard. But it was. It was like trying to sleep peacefully while surrounded by a thousand voices, each speaking in unknown languages, all trying to reach you.
I always felt like there was something in the world that other kids didn't notice. When they told me it was the Force flowing through me, I barely understood. It wasn't a bond or a feeling, really. I just felt empty, for no reason. When I looked at the sky, it was as if the stars could smile at me in the night, and the sun could talk to me in the day. As if the concrete was tired when we walked, and the doors were weary from opening every day. It was... overwhelming. And yet I didn't even knew it.
I just felt off sometimes, and I couldn't say why. Was that truly the Force? My understanding is that it's an energy field — something that flows through everything and everyone. Not echoes of the world whispering back at me. As I learned the Jedi way, I didn't agree with everything. Some frustrations started to build. The Jedi were protectors, healers, keepers — and yet, after thousands of years, there was still so much left to do in the galaxy. The Jedi lived simply, but they lived well — in good buildings, seeing the stars every day, breathing fresh air, and leaving the world whenever they needed to. Sometimes, I spoke of my doubts, my feelings about inaction, and my opinion on what still had to be done.
In the Jedi Temple, they taught a code of conduct. They taught the ways of the Force. They taught everything we needed to know. But strangely, I don't think it was something to be taught that I was missing. My mind was often somewhere else, asking questions to a world that gave no answers. Lightsaber training was something I found myself liking quite a lot — the ability to move, to wield such a weapon... I liked it. But it was just one thing among so many others. Then again, what I missed wasn't something I could simply learn. While questions roamed my mind, while my focus drifted elsewhere, I kept trying to find answers to strange, lingering thoughts. None came — to the point where I wondered if this was truly something I could accomplish. But I learned — slowly, perhaps — even though doubt still lingered in my mind. That strange feeling around me, like the world barely breathing beneath concrete and steel, never brought me clarity. I didn't understand what I was feeling. Was there truly something behind the simple act of moving rocks? The Force is a mystery.
I know it's the same for many people, and yet I can't help but think the Force is impossible to truly understand. Despite the great Jedi Masters I met throughout my years of training, this thought never really faded. Growing up, it also became clear to me — and probably to others — that I wasn't going to become a big Zabrak. I was short. Still am. I think with time it might get better, but for now, I have to work with what I've got. I'm shorter than others my age, i am faster than many, but do not have the strenght for somethings. And I still struggle to understand the Force. The Masters always told me I had great potential, but it's not something you want to hear when you fail as often as I did, while others succeeded. I don't think I was ever the best at anything inside the Jedi Temple. I don't think I was ever truly good at anything. It's strange. At night, I always felt overwhelmed. The weight of not succeeding, the frustration of staying on the same world while I longed to see others... It gave me long moments of doubts. Doubts about my place in the Order, about my desire to leave this world. For the first time, I felt inadequate. But I kept going, hoping to see the star that shines the brightest.
It's... troublesome, being like this. It's not that I can't do anything — it's more that I don't understand how I do it. Jedi training taught me many things. Aside from the Force, I learned that in a galaxy this vast, with so many people, cultures and places, the Jedi Order is something very special. Its history, its legacy, the weight of its responsibility — all of that, in the middle of a world so crowded it built concrete skies to house more people... It felt like a recipe for failure. Opening oneself to the Force is like trying to hear every whisper around you at once. And when so much is happening at the same time, it's no surprise if it deafens those who try to listen.
After years spent inside the Temple on Coruscant, a big announcement came. The Jedi were moving the main Temple to Tython. Training would continue there.
I was ecstatic. A new world. Finally. Something different. Something new. Training and lessons didn't stop — but Tython... Tython was the real change.
I don't know if it does the same to everyone, but what I felt there was so different, I knew it was the right call. Free from the never-ending chaos of the galaxy's most populated world, I finally felt like I could truly hear. Outside, on a world that old, that alive, it felt like the wind was the breath of the planet herself. Like the sun's warm embrace was the welcome of a world not yet fully discovered. And the landscapes... the very sight of them filled me with a joy words can't describe. Trees of wood, floors of dirt, leaves falling from the sky, and the sounds... It was a symphony of sensations. I think I understood a bit more of the Force. On Tython, I could hear the planet itself — not the footsteps of a million beings above me. On Tython, I regained some trust in myself. I think that's when I felt most in tune with the Force. I'm still far from understanding it — but now more than ever, I want to.
Now, more than ever, I want to see more of the galaxy. I want to learn. And I will. It's been ten years since I joined the Jedi Order. Now, I hope for the chance to travel and see the galaxy. Now, for my fifteens birthday, I will become a Padawan. I will learn to become a Jedi Knight — and I will become one. Because there are still so many stars to see. And the brightest one is still out there. But my journey has yet to begin. For I still need a Master to walk the Jedi path.