It was like a place you would stumble upon in a dream. The palace was built with the intention of marrying architecture to nature. It was a wide, intricate building with columns, towers, domed roofs, and large arched windows. Inside, small trees grew from cement pots in every corner of every room. Ivy and moss crept along the walls and ceiling, unchecked and untamed. Glass lanterns filled with fireflies swayed gently from above, filling the midnight hallways in soft, green light. Zebras and barbary stags walked through the halls like any common man, grazing upon the fresh vegetation. 

This was the home of the Lunar royal family, and the King who reigned over the celestial Eight. The Eight were just as timeless as himself, primordial peoples from varying planets. And beneath them were their loyal followers, advisors, and guardsmen. Once every ten moon cycles, the Eight would travel the stars to the palace to discuss both matters foreign and domestic. They had all the time in the world, but they rarely agreed, and very little ever got done.