Aeton circled the stone pillar that was positioned in the center of the courtyard waiting for who was to be his second master. The sun beat down on his smooth, silky, sap green skin and allowed his eyes to glint like two fine cut diamonds. His motions were slow and steady which allowed his elegant brown robes to slowly trail the ground. It was a normal day at The Great Temple but the feeling of walking around in the courtyard had changed since the death of his former master, Vizza.
Visions surrounded Aeton day and night of the possible torture Vizza had endured, yet, the young Nautolan was always left to second guess the situation as the council had not made it clear. All he knew is that the Zabrak who had first welcomed him, who had selected him, who had put plenty of trust and belief into him was gone, gone for good.
Visions surrounded Aeton day and night of the possible torture Vizza had endured, yet, the young Nautolan was always left to second guess the situation as the council had not made it clear. All he knew is that the Zabrak who had first welcomed him, who had selected him, who had put plenty of trust and belief into him was gone, gone for good.