"You might as well ask an artist to explain his art, or ask a poet to explain his poem. It defeats the purpose. The meaning is only clear thorough the search."
―Rick Riordan

"How was the Grandmaster?" Master Plo asked.

I shrugged. "She is confusing," I spoke with no trouble. "But she is... interesting."

I decided not to bring up Master Thraina's friend, for lack of better word. I had many questions, but I decided that Master Plo may not be the one to answer them.

We had walked back to the Council room, but the Grandmaster simply took her meditative stance and said nothing. It was up to me (with the help of the Twi'lek who spoke Huttese) to explain my decision to join the Dark Jedi.

I would be learning Basic very quickly from then on. Each planetary year, the entire planet chose a language to study. For the first half of the year, they studied words and rules, but for the other semester, everyone on the planet would speak that chosen language. It was a way for everyone to learn common languages, and it was very effective.

But not yet being fluent in Basic, they decided that I would have a tutor (preferably one who knew Huttese) who would help me with my conversational Basic for the rest of the year. The semester was already half over, so the time frames should work out well enough.

I was nervous about the next day. I would be thrust into training groups, classes, and groups with the other Dark Jedi my age. There were not very many, only ten, as I had heard, but I was not particularly excited about the brand new environments.

Master Plo reached a large building and stopped. "Hopefully, you will only have to stay here tonight. A padawan should be here to pick you up in the morning."

I nodded, suddenly realizing my fatigue. I thanked Master Plo and walked in.

Like the other buildings, no expense was spared. Clearly, a master architect had been in charge.

A woman stood at a desk, scrolling through an old data pad. "You must be Padawan Skywalker!" She smiled warmly. I could feel a mix of yellow and white in her aura, like she was too kind to be the beautiful gray of Master Thraina.

I nodded. "Yes. What is your name?" I asked clumsily.

My question only made her smile warmly. "I am Venra Shan. I host all the guests to the Dark Council on Nequek." I realized with a start that it was the first time I had heard the name of the planet.

I wanted to be polite and make idle conversation, a Basic custom I had yet to understand, so I asked, "You are a Dark Jedi?"

Venra gave me a teasing look. "I come from a very powerful line of Jedi, Sith, and Dark Jedi." She explained. "But not many in my line are Force-sensitive."

I admired her white hair, comparing it to the white of Master Thraina's. While Venra's hair was clearly bleached with age, Master Thraina's hair had looked like it had absorbed so many years that it had turned such a color to lighten the load.

"But come now," the woman rushed out from behind the desk. "You don't want me to bore you with my family history. You'd like a room, hmm?"

I followed her quick, surprisingly agile pace up several flights of stairs. Finally, she opened a door and gestured for me to walk inside. My jaw dropped.

Clearly, the room was made to impress. All of the rooms had arches connecting them all to a central foyer. The colors of the wall were obviously designed to match each other, a brick red matched an olive green and a royal purple. Everything seemed to flow together, the position of the furniture, the colors, the walls and windows. It satisfied me.

"I'll leave you to it. Padawan Farr should find you early tomorrow." Venra smiled and retreated out the door.

I saw a shower, which I was excited to use. After spending a bit too much time running he hot water, I realized my belongings, including my clothing, had been brought up. I changed into my nightgown and headed toward the bed.

As soon as my head hit the soft pillow, I heard that familiar, comforting music lulling me to sleep.

•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•

A shrill knock shocked me out of sleep. I sleepily got out of my bed and went for the door. Standing there was a Padawan about my age. She was human and had dark skin and even darker hair that was pulled into lots of small braids.

"Hi," she greeted. "I'm Nysa Farr. You're Arrai, I take it?" She stepped past me into my room. "Girl, you gotta get ready. You gotta give a good first impression!"

I narrowed my eyes, trying to make sense out of her words through her thick accent. After a long moment, I understand the basics of what she was saying. "Will you help?" I asked, hoping that was an acceptable thing to ask.

She threw a pile of clothes onto my bed. "These are for you. You should expect a new set at he beginning of ever month."

The clothes looked uniform, but they were definitely new. I took the deep burgundy robes and went into the bathroom to change into them. I had worn Jedi robes, and these were similar enough that I could dress easily. As I came out, Nysa looked at me like I was a specimen to be studied.

"Sit down." She gestured to a chair. She produced a hair brush from somewhere and started ripping through my mane of hair. "After we're done, remind me to get someone to work on your split ends."

Starting from the bottom, she somehow worked out the biggest tangles in my frizzy hair. I grimaced and winced from her violent pulls, but I was grateful enough to suffer in silence.

She twisted and braided my hair until it sat in a long plait down my back. Then, she rolled it up into a giant bun on the top of my head.

Despite the foreignness of my appearance, I felt, for the first time in my life, that I looked pretty. Somehow, Nysa had managed to tame my hair enough to reveal my face. My reflection in the mirror almost startled me as my electrically blue eyes stared back. My skin was pale, but I had a tendency to develop freckles. Three days in the sun would immediately make my face burst into a mine field of sun spots.

"You look cute," Nysa admitted. "But you've gotta do something to that hair of yours."

My mother had never cut my hair when I was younger, claiming that growing it long would make it easy to sell if needed.

Still, I didn't like the idea of anyone cutting my hair. I shook my head. "It remains." I told her. I couldn't think of any other way to phrase my message at the moment.

Nysa must've been told about the language barrier. She simply nodded. "No one is going to touch it if you don't want them to."

I did like the braid, though. "Thank you." I touched my hair to indicate my object of gratitude.

"Anytime. Now, come on! We're going to be late!"

I ran after her out of the embassy, not knowing where I would go from there.

{A/N:

Hey guys. I kinda think this is a sucky chapter, but what do I know? The good stuff will be starting next chapter!

I wanted to tell y'all that it seems there is a bit of interest in and Old Republic series with Thraina and Shy-Lee, which I would love to write! I'm thinking about it a bit more...

That's really all I have to say.

As always, comments and votes do motivate me to write faster. So comment and vote!

Peace, love, and
~Art