The balladeer, the legendary harbinger of red clothing usually likes to wander around the misty woods at this dusky hour. The trees were crooked and the cold breeze hitting his porcelain skin adds to the eerie sensibility.

The only sounds he could make out besides the occasional blow of the sour wind was harmonic whistles of the still standing birds amongst the thousand disfigured blossom trees and the unlawful sullied lakes.

Out of the corner of your eye, this powerful…child? Seemed to be wandering your sob grounds. The fallen Akademiya demolished beneath the immense amount of ashes, of the once burning school…Where you sat, watching the boy in your pellucid presence..