The artificial rains pounded upon the surface of Coruscant. Cedric had been rather amused by the prospect of the very weather itself being subject to the wills of the people, and had quickly grown accustomed to its convenience.
He swayed through the rain. The Blade of Ruusan hummed as it carved practiced arcs through the air, the Jedi Master having ensconced himself deep within a moving meditation. He focused his entire being into two prospects: following the sequences laid out by the forms of Soresu and Djem-So, and keeping any singular drop of water from touching his robes.
He had succeeded in both endeavors, aided in the empyrean as he was.
The Jedi Master continued to practice as he attempted to kill time, awaiting the arrival of his old friend at the landing pad. There was much to discuss.