The air was warm and damp, and a faint chill roamed the air. The crys of students training could be heard down the mountain, it was an early morning sure, but the arts wait for no man

Clink........Clink it was the sound of bells, the periodic jingle echoed through the morning mist. The cherry petals dance in the high wind and fall on your shoulder, that's right, they were here

Ring...... ring the mist parts and there he emerged...... The Mistifull Death