T he nation of Midi; The Knights home which he had forsaken many years ago. Its rolling hills dotted with cherry blossoms stretched far into the horizon. A blanket of grey wrapped around the sky, and the heavens wept to the earth. Small clusters of homes found themselves distributed amidst the serenity of the land, appearing miniscule from the towering rocky plateau on which Kagami stood. His crimson orbs rested on a slab of stone erected from the ground before him. It read, “Here lie Masuda Numata. Lord of Aomori.X͠͏҉̸̶X̴͘͝X͏̢X̨̨̡ ̶̨́͟-҉҉͠ ̡̀͟͝͞X̸̀̀͜X͜͞X̨҉X̨̀̕͞͠”. The ground was firm beneath his feet as the land had not been disturbed in some time, much like the rows of similar tablets which uniformly stood adjacent to this one. The man had known his father well in his childhood. They were extremely close. This was the first time he had ever laid eyes on his grave.Finally breaking his gaze, Kagami closed his eyes and bowed his head slightly. He slowly reaches over to the katana at his waist and breaks the blade away from its sheath. He holds the weapon parallel to the ground in both hands, staring into his own reflection in the silver as drops of moisture wash against the metal. “Hey”, he finally speaks out loud to the gravestone. “I know you were never really one for flowers… So I brought you this instead.” The knight tightly grips the hilt with both hands and aims the blade directly downwards; raising it overhead before thrusting it down into the ground before the stone. “It’s straight from my collection back home. One of my finest pieces, actually.” Moisture cascaded down from the Knight’s cheeks and dripped down to his feet, but there was no salt in the water. The sky cried for him. He didn’t know how long he had stood there for, but he continued to wonder why it was that no tears of his own would roll. He was in the presence of the man he had adored so much as a young boy, yet there was nothing. If anything, he only felt regret of having returned to his homeland in times such as these. He wasn’t welcome there, and he had duties elsewhere in Fiore. But even keeping that in mind, he couldn't bring himself to leave. It was like he was being anchored to the spot. 395 Ardere |
credit to nat of adoxography.
Last edited by Kagami on 7th November 2016, 4:53 pm; edited 1 time in total