The Pale Death

Veradun had spent the last standard day or so roaming around the Bailiff Station after his meeting with his High Priest and his Academy Sponsor. He was due to return to the Academy to finish out what remained of his obligations there before reaching out to his prospective new Sith master, but for now he had some free time to do with as he pleased. Some time to collect himself and his thoughts as he pondered his future.
The boy missed his home, missed his family. He missed the familiar sights in the Formos Dresuoti. He’d heard wind that the place had been targeted by another Sith Lord, and he feared to know the truth, so much so that he avoided any and all talks about it.
It was his home, afterall. It couldn’t have been destroyed. It was still there, waiting for him to return to its familiar sights - Right?
These thoughts, and many more, circled through his mind as he wandered. His Academy uniform denoted his position and he was paid due respect for it, but he hardly noticed any of this.
He barely noticed the figure in front of him when he turned a corner, and bumped straight into the individual. This snapped the Nagai boy from his thoughts and he stopped to look at the man he had run into.
“S-sorry, my Lord!” The Nagai boy stammered briefly, a rosy hue coloring his rather pale, somewhat gaunt cheeks. He lowered his head slightly and averted his gaze, just in case he had bumped into someone of importance or higher rank. “Forgive me! I wasn’t watching where I was going.”
After showing respect, he lifted his icy eyes back to the man, and a flicker of recognition came over his face. He couldn’t recall the man’s name - but Veradun had seen him before on Formos.
“I…I think I know you. Or I’ve seen you before. You serve under the High Priest, don’t you?”