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Serratus inhaled deeply. The smell of the trees, the grass and the flowers filled his nostrils. It was a mild, breezy on Tepasi and Serratus was lying on the grass in his garden. His garden. He never got tired of saying it, thinking it, knowing it. His garden. On the rare occasions that his massive workload got too much, the High Mage like to retreat to Cahir Manor, his house on his ancestral homeworld. He had dismissed his staff for the day, firstly because he wanted some alone time, and secondly because he did not want anyone around while he was training his new apprentice.
Yet another apprentice. Plasma and Sadow were dead, Fien was under Mage Superior Odin's tutelage and Tylerr, well, no one was quite sure what had happened to Tyler. He never made it back from his first mission on Hoth.
But Serratus was determined that this one would complete his apprenticeship. Roan Sinidal would be burned away by the fires of the dark side and tempered by the Force and from his ashes would rise a Sith, a blade of the dark side and bane of the light, a true vassal of the Empire.
Roan was due to arrive any minute now but Serratus made no attempt to move. Roan had been given express instructions to walk from the hangar to the garden and to make no stops in between the two. When his apprentice arrived, Serratus would move. Until then, he would enjoy some rare relaxation.
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If you see dreadlocks and a staff coming towards you very rapidly, you're in trouble.
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