BELA VISTAL, CORELLIA
The Corellian System, Mid-Rim
As the Jedi younglings and their Twi'lek instructor boarded the shuttle, the towering Thisspiasian watched on with two arms tucked inside the sleeves of the brown robe he wore. In the serpent's shadow, the young Nautolan waved emphatically at the rapidly disappearing sight of the now air-borne flight. A sound, like thunder, echoed above the clouds as the boy's long-time family took their final leave of the Elder Brother. Even still, the Thisspiasian allowed the moment to extend further, as the green-skinned youngling's hand slowly came to a halt and then awkwardly came down to rest by his side.
The bearded snake could sense the internal conflict within the boy. The awe of being with a Jedi knight eclipsed by an overwhelming grief and loneliness as he watched his youngling clan leave without him.
It was possible that Zak would never see them again. Perhaps some, the rare few who would become apprenticed to a Jedi as padawans. Or others who might continue to serve in the Jedi Service Corps. But, by and large, most younglings in a clan would graduate to become many things -- but not Jedi. To use the Force was a rare gift, but to be Jedi was an even rarer calling.
And now the boy, younger than most, was alone with a stranger. A Jedi he had only just met, and one who was expecting the boy grow up a little sooner than expected. But not without sympathy, for it had been the same for Azul Gol. A little older, perhaps a little wiser, possibly just as foolish - if not more - and just as alone, as he watched the children of the Republic that he had known as clan brother or clan sister all go their separate ways. And a Thisspiasian boy who had been separated from his family found himself in the care of a Jedi whose name he barely knew.
A small, lightweight brown robe dressed the small boy's form, a backpack containing all his worldly possessions that he would take with him on this new journey on his back. Dipping down so that the Jedi's bearded face was nearer to the boy's, the Thisspiasian gently took hold of the Nautolan's shoulder and turned the boy toward him. As he did, another hand lifted the canteen pouch from off the boy's belt. Lifting it up, a small lightsaber dropped into the waiting palm of the Sentinel.
"You must wear this proudly, and you must not lose it. A Jedi's life, and the lives of those he protects, is guarded by this lightsaber," the Thisspiasian remarked, turning the silver and black device in his hands as he spoke. Pausing, the Sentinel tapped the device against the palm of one hand and held it up in front of the boy. "There is no more sacred trust in our order than to wield the weapon of a Jedi knight," he added, his tone making clear the seriousness of the charge.
The small Nautolan's nose wiggled slightly as the boy sniffled, both awed and frightened by this Jedi before him. "Yes, master," the boy replied meekly.
With a distinctive snap, the training shoto came alight in the Thisspiasian's hand. The light reflected in the serpent's amber eyes a moment. "Blue, I see. The color of the Jedi Guardians, soldiers of the Republic who have long protected it in times of darkness where no other lights shone as bright," the Jedi remarked, shutting down the weapon and stooping down further as the Thisspiasian carefully hooked the lightsaber on the belt that cinched the boy's Nautolan-inspired tunic. As he did, the snake-like eyes flicked up to meet the boy's. "Do you wish to be a Guardian, Zak?"
Swallowing, still nervous, the boy quietly but clearly answered, "Yes, master."
Gently tugging on the lightsaber to ensure it was secure, the Thisspisasian reared back on his coils to assume a more normal height for him. Gazing down, the Jedi mused aloud, "Much potential I see in you, youngling. You could be great as a Sentinel,... but you must choose your own path." Shifting his serpentile body around, the snake-like Jedi pivoted and began moving slowly, motioning for the boy to follow. "Not today. Not tomorrow. But one day, and until then, I will teach you as my master first instructed me."
"Yes, master," the young Nautolan replied politely, still uncertain, as the boy moved to keep up beside the large Jedi.
Guiding the boy back toward the streets of the small hamlet village, the Jedi explained, "We should be able to catch a hovertrain to Tyrena before nightfall. We'll stop there, then continue on to Coronet in the morning."
As they walked, the small Nautolan's eyes moved to take in all the sights and wonders which were still so alien to a youth raised on Coruscant. As the Thisspiasian explained what they were doing, a look of confusion crossed the boy's features. "Master, I thought we were going to Mandalore."
"We are, youngling," the Jedi remarked simply, adding, "But we should need a ship to Mandalore, and we won't find one departing from Bela Vistal. This hamlet is too small for more than regional star travel."
"Oh," the child answered plainly. He fell silent for a moment, his head swiveling as a nerf-drawn fruit cart lumbered by on wheels across a dusty road. Then he turned to look back up at the Thisspiasian to ask, "Why... Why don't, like... Why don't we just go to Coronet, Master?"
Beneath the beard, the reptilian lips of the Jedi turned up slightly. "You've had a busy day, young one," the Sentinel remarked, reaching down a hand to gently tousle the youth's many head tails. "We will stop in Tyrena to rest."
"Oh," the boy chirped again, continuing to alternate attention between where the Thisspiasian was leading them and the various sights along the path. Then came a question which the Sentinel ought to have expected. "Can we... Can we get something to eat in Tyena, Master?"
"Tyrena," the Jedi corrected the boy gently, not looking down at the boy as he answered. "And, yes, we'll get something to eat in..." It was then that the Thisspiasian realized that the young Nautolan was no longer beside him. Pausing, the snake coiled back to look for what had happened to his young charge.
Being green-skinned and non-human, the boy of course stood out against the remainder of the Corellian people mulling about the small hamlet. The youngling was pressed up against the front of a toy shop, something which the Jedi realized he may need to have a slightly more awareness of now.
The boy was staring at the display for a new trading card game of some sort. "Oh cool, holo battle arena -- WHOA..." the child yelped, as a Thisspiasian hand reached out to snatch him back along their journey to Tyrena.
