"My little lightsaber... Without you, I would probably have gone crazy already." Dolash chuckled as he rolled the metal cylinder back and forth between his hands, admiring its immaculate state and complex heraldry adorning it. "You're so pretty. Yes you are!"

He really did love his lightsaber. It had been through everything with him. Well, except the times he had forgotten it or misplaced - never lost - it. Now that he thought about it, this would be his... seventh lightsaber? He recalled Herald procuring it for him and their words to him, "11 and 3/4, made of beskad. It's funny you chose this one, for its sister gave you that scar."

Dolash gingerly felt the mark on his face below where his lekku protruded. He recalled his response, surreptitiously, "That makes sense. Didn't you use the same chunk of beskad that I gave you to make both?"

"Ahhh... right. Well, here's your lightsaber, good luck!!" The office member of the Herald shrunk away, busy as ever.

Dolash used to have so many adventures, he lost lightsabers and replaced others to reflect the changes he himself experienced. However, he had kept this one the longest. He stroked its shaft length to length as the teal blade protruded in all of its glorious size. "My precious."

He flicked the switch on the hilt and the stunning azure blade flickered off with that satisfying thrum.

"Goodnight, lovely," He kissed the hilt once more as he tucked underneath his chin and closed his eyes, returning to his drowsy lull.