In this world, is the destiny of mankind controlled by some transcendental entity or law? Is it like the hand of God hovering above? At least, it is true that man has no control, even over his own will... but this will be put to the test
... people on horseback riding into battle with weapons in hands...
... war torn settings with blood splattered on the ground with soldiers falling left and right...
... an insignia is shown, a pair of wings on a banner...
~*~*~
A pair of eyes slowly open, blinking to adjust to the surroundings. A nine year old boy groaned slightly as he shifted himself in bed. He thinks of how he's been getting these weird dreams as of late as he rubs his eyes. He looks across the room to see a pair of blondes, still sleeping in their bed with the younger one slipping off the bed. The boy rose from his bed and kicked the covers off as he stretched with his bones releasing satisfying pops, he changed his regular attire with a black sleeveless shirt with a large belt around his waist, brown trousers that are rolled up to his final piece of attire, his leather boots.
The boy lightly stomps foot adjusting his boot before he exits the room and heads down stairs.
The boy could see light at the end of the step, he doesn't bother being discreet when going down the stairs, creaking as he descends. Once he reaches the lower flood he is greeted with a wave of intense heat hitting his eyes, he squints his eye before getting used to the heat and turns his attention to the man who is treating the flames. He was an old stocky man with a muscular frame, with long gray hair and beard. This man is Godo
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He was stirring the flame with a poker, feeding it wood once and a while. the boy decides to let his presence known.
"Morning" he greeted with an indifferent tone. Godo looked back before turning to the flames. " Morning boy... dreams?"
"Hn." the boy responded, this wasn't the first time the boy woke up early in the morning. "And the boys?" Godo asked
"Judeau and Rickert are still asleep... Do you... need some help?" the boy asked, it only made sense, because the old man took guts recently and wants to earn his keep.
"No, but you can fetch a bucket of water." he said, with the boy simply nodding and exiting the building. He breathes in the cool morning air and sees it still reveltivy dark, it's still early.
He makes his way to the well and tosses the bucket down at the well. Once he pulls the bucket up he crouches down and wash his face with the water, he splashes the water onto his face and runs his hand through his hair as he stares at his reflection. Noticing his features, He sported short black spiky hair with a couple of bangs, his ears were pointed like, he bore a scar across the bridge of his nose something that is also a reminder of where he came from, and finally he has a fierce shade of hazel eyes. The boy sighed as he got up and headed to the house. He then dumb to water into a trough, he did this a couple of times until it was full.
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