After two weeks of seemingly aimless wandering Mashyuu stood upon a hill looking down at the bustling city that held the Ace of Spades, for one reason or the other the newly revived Wizard was drawn to the land and seemed to know how to get to the city without even trying to find the place. He pulled his hood down and let his wild hair flow in the warm morning wind. Tapping his foot on the ground once he exploded into burst of sand and rolled down the hill, reforming at the front gate of the town.
Mashyuu's blue eyes darted around rapidly, taking in familiar scents, sights and sounds as flashes of a life once lived raced through his mind. The Wizard took a deep, shuddering breath and looked at the ground, his red shoe covered feet making the perfect thing to focus on as he started to walk almost aimlessly. Without paying attention the man weaved through crowds of people until he stepped through the front doors of the Ace of Spades bar. He didn't say a word to anyone while he headed for a teleporation lacrima and grasped it, vanishing into the Sabertooth guild hall.
The man wandered the halls, his rough fingers running along the walls as memories floated to the surface of his thoughts. "I was Mashyuu... I lived here and this." He stopped at his room, the door layered with dust from not moving, Mashyuu grasped the handle and pushed it open. Trinkets from battles past littered the small room as did his a hammer that he thought was gone when he hit the ground. He walked to the weapon, called by it's power and picked the heavy hammer of various color up and let his body get accustomed to the weight and the magical effect it had on him, slowing him down while he held it in his hands. "Good in a pinch against a slower foe.... Wouldn't count on this though." Mashyuu mumbled and placed it down on the mantle of his room. He checked his reflection in the mirror and compared it to a near by photo. He had changed. His hair was no longer styled but naturally wild, his body was larger, as if it had gotten used to having the power of a god inside it, and his face had become less gaunt and more filled out. Still his eyes were the same, as was the location of his brown Sabertooth guild stamp on his chest. He cracked a smile and headed back to the bar below him...
Sitting alone at a round table Mashyuu watched the patrons while sipping on a glass of hard whiskey. From time to time his attention was drawn to a man in red, Mashyuu knew him from a battle involving a dragon at this very location but couldn't place a name to the face.
Mashyuu's blue eyes darted around rapidly, taking in familiar scents, sights and sounds as flashes of a life once lived raced through his mind. The Wizard took a deep, shuddering breath and looked at the ground, his red shoe covered feet making the perfect thing to focus on as he started to walk almost aimlessly. Without paying attention the man weaved through crowds of people until he stepped through the front doors of the Ace of Spades bar. He didn't say a word to anyone while he headed for a teleporation lacrima and grasped it, vanishing into the Sabertooth guild hall.
The man wandered the halls, his rough fingers running along the walls as memories floated to the surface of his thoughts. "I was Mashyuu... I lived here and this." He stopped at his room, the door layered with dust from not moving, Mashyuu grasped the handle and pushed it open. Trinkets from battles past littered the small room as did his a hammer that he thought was gone when he hit the ground. He walked to the weapon, called by it's power and picked the heavy hammer of various color up and let his body get accustomed to the weight and the magical effect it had on him, slowing him down while he held it in his hands. "Good in a pinch against a slower foe.... Wouldn't count on this though." Mashyuu mumbled and placed it down on the mantle of his room. He checked his reflection in the mirror and compared it to a near by photo. He had changed. His hair was no longer styled but naturally wild, his body was larger, as if it had gotten used to having the power of a god inside it, and his face had become less gaunt and more filled out. Still his eyes were the same, as was the location of his brown Sabertooth guild stamp on his chest. He cracked a smile and headed back to the bar below him...
Sitting alone at a round table Mashyuu watched the patrons while sipping on a glass of hard whiskey. From time to time his attention was drawn to a man in red, Mashyuu knew him from a battle involving a dragon at this very location but couldn't place a name to the face.