A view fit for painting

(o.o.c - Anyone is free to join ^^)
The sound of bustling birds, chattering happily seemed to ring out throughout the golden domain. The view of grassy meadows spread out further than an eye could see. The blades of grass tilted to the side, showing a slight breeze whistling across the fields. A dusty path run all the way across the fields, worn and battered as if many travellers had stepped upon it. The sun seemed to radiate golden rays of light across the skies, causing each object to gleam with a mixture of the deepest golden hues.

In the distance a small village can be seen if one were to stand upon the tip of one of the large meadow hills, a small yet bustling village, fill of life. It was obvious, that if one wanted to gain access to this village, they would have to travel though the meadows, which, on this beautiful day was more of a leisure activity than a burden.

Small flocks of sparrows flew about for a moment before seeming to slowly fade away in the distance, Silence surrounded the grassy district once more. This was a mornin of beauty, each object gleamed brightly, portraying a beautiful day, it was a moment in which time would seem to slow down, as to allow the view of the domain to be painted in a picture before time sluggishly moved on once again.

The sound of footsteps allowed such a movement on time, first distant, then soon becoming louder, more fluent, travelling throughout the meadows. They were not rushed footsteps, more like one travelling slowly, as to revel upon the beauty of the day. Soon a frame became visable, moving into view, the golden light carressing her form as she moved slowly, calmly, absent midedly across the dusty road path.

The first characteristic that would stick out about what could now be seen as a female form, was that she wore casual clothing, jeans that were torn and tattered at the joints and seemed dusty at the knees. A light vest top, which clung to her frame as she moved slowly down the path. Upon her feet, sandals clattered against the dusty path, azanpaktou remained sheathed at her side, bound to her waist by a simple cloth.

Her appendages remained upon the tsuba of this zanpaktou, idely placed of course, but it was quite obvious she was ready to draw the weapon upon the first sign of danger. Her dark hair, gleaming in the light, stayed bound by a small rope, several lose strands dancing upon her facial regions. Then of course, there was the most distinctive characteristic about this mysterious woman, her optics were concealed by a wrapping of bdangers, these bandages layered and wrapped skillfully upon her forehead to her nose.

She halted, as she neared the village, the sound of the bustling market place and the smell of freshly baked bread reaching her nostrils. Her frame inhaled deeply for a moment, exhaling soon after she then spoke, appendage twitching upon the hilt of her Zanpaktou, her speech seeming to be directed towards the weapon

"Hrm...Seems you were right, GouzenKigai, we were right to travel North, I wonder if this place has changed much.." She frowned, as to ponder upon her own words, before shrugging somewhat and moving into the village.

Sarto smiled. His black plate armor covered all but his head, which was half-covered by a crimson hood. His narrow almond eyes scanned the milling townspeople, and his lips were curled in a perverse smile. His skin was fair, but partly shadowed by the hood over his head. He'd been waiting quite some time now. His features were gaunt, almost sinister, with his long brown hair hanging down in front of his face.

He bore a large longsword strapped onto his back, and a massive kiteshield was strapped to his left forearm. All the villagers moved around him, taking large distances. The peaceful town nestled in the quiet valley had never had need of any real warriors, and the sight of such a baleful one had caused unrest.

Sarto had been staying in the village for almost two weeks now, and living in such filth and negligence that he was unused to, had caused him quite a bit of calamity. But soon he could leave. He would finish up his job and that would be that, done and done.

He stood in the small marketplace of the town, leaning against the towns roundhouse. Various merchants and farmers were standing at their makeshift stalls, selling all sorts of exotic fruits and vegetables native to the tropical area here. Where Sarto had come from no such fruits grew; they had no time to before the brutal frosts wiped them out. The cold weather could attribute to Sarto's unnaturally pallid visage, but he was still sickly even among his own northern brethren. Sarto had been sent here for a very pious reason, by a very pious leader. The king of his country had always been serious, a cruel tyrannical monarch, who enslaved his people, and captured them in his malign embrace.

Sarto could not have thought of a better ruler. Sarto had been born in the capital city of his Homeland, Arkamir, when the old, "kind" king had been in power. He had first met the present King, Anama, on the streets, as an orphan. But that orphan had powerful ties, or so he had claimed. Sarto, for reasons he couldn't explain, had believed him, and together they had hatched a scheme. They had assassinated the king and all those in line in front of Anama for the regal position. It had been a bloodbath of the royal family. They had managed to put together a ragtag group of wannabe assassins, all of whom were now in the personal, and secret, employ of the King. All the necessary deaths went down at exactly the same time. It had worked flawlessly. When they were done that they had convinced Amana's real mother, who they had worked hard tracking down, to testify Amana's claim. They had then proceeded in killing his mother. Old grudges, Amana claimed. Sarto had had no problem with it.

And now he was here, waiting for her, delivering a message from the one man of higher rank then him, the king, of course. Then he saw her, coming towards the village he smiled and straightened, looking out to her. He strode towards her purposefully, and when he reached her his smile spread further.

"So, long time no see," he said to her. His armor clanked as her face, eyes covered in bandages, bore an expression that would have equalled a glare would she had eyes. "Alright, so we didn't leave on the best of terms, but we had good times, right?" The stare did not waver. "Fine, be that way. I have brought a little preposition from Amana. You would want to see it, wouldn't you?" Sarto drew forth from a small pouch on his belt a sealed scroll.

One of her eyebrows arched as she took the parchment. She removed the seal and looked at the document. She looked back up at him, and Sarto smiled an oblique and twisted smile.

"That's right," he said, "War is coming..."

She had not long entered the village, heard the sounds of bustling villagers as they continued to trade fruit, vegetables, poultry and other assortments of food around the market place, each peice of food freshly made and native to it's region, their region. They seemed unnerved upon her entry, and resumed to keep their distance from her form as she moved into the market place.

Her phalanges twitched ever so slightly upon the tsuba of her Zanpaktou as she came to a halt, having heard the voice of another, a familiar voice of course. It was obviously directed towards her, she could pin poin the direction it was coming from almost instantly, it carrying enough vocals to reach her eardrums and therefore allowing her to pin point it's owner with ease.

Her frown spread across her features for a moment, upon hearing the first words of the speaker, the said expression spreading swiftly across her facial features, causing slight creases to be formed in her pasty like skin. She allowed a hant come up to her cranium. appendages pointing out as she scratched, mid ponder, upon the tip of her cranium.

She knew who it was upon almost an instance of hearing the voice, it's tone, it's vocals..The slight shifting of the owner's frame, and ofcourse, there was the clanking of the armour, the slight clattering of it's surface with his joints as his frame shifted absentmidedly. There was no mistaking whom this person was, and if she were not blind and if the bandages were not concealing her optics, she would indeed have greeted the man with a glare.

"So, long time no see," He had said, his words rugged, carrying barely enough vocals for her to hear, the very sound of his voice seemed to be like dragging a rusty nail down a jagged surface, she shuddered upon the thought, as if hearing his voice would bring about such a thought of a sound. She remained silent, as usual, as if to show her irritance of the mere fact of him conversing with her.

She wasn't suprised the slightest, that he had been here to greet her upon her return yet it now felt like the leisure walk through the miles of meadows to gain access to the village had indeed become a burden to her, he spoke once more, his words less rugged than the last, yet still seeming to be aggrivating to her ears.

"Alright, so we didn't leave on the best of terms, but we had good times, right?"

He seemed humerous in his words, yet a strong tone of seriousness seemed to block out most of this humerous tone. She remained silent once more, a slight flick of her appendage upon her zanpaktou's hilt seemed to proove, yet again that she was growing irritated.

She continued to remain aware to those around her, the bustling marketplace, the many villagers going about their day's work, trading tropic fruits and other foods and going about their businesses, yet her and the other warrior seemed to stand out in such a place, she could still sense the un-easyness of the people around her, the movement of their feet as their stride became misplaced upon seeing the two forms, them pivotting to find a safer route, a more distant stride from the two frames.

She even took note of the pick up in pace of the wind that now circled through the market place, the wind that caused little particles of stone and leaves to slowly circle around the feet of random passersby. She also took note, of the sun's rays upon her frame, the sensation of 'stuffyness' that the heat caused, yet this seemed to be toned down by the slight gale.

"Fine, be that way. I have brought a little preposition from Amana. You would want to see it, wouldn't you?" The man spoke once more, his words more comforting than before, she arched a brow upon these words, as to show her sudden interest, she was ofcourse, intruiged by his words.

Then the sound of rustling become obvious as the man reached into his pockets, pulling out a parchment and handing it to her, one hand came out as to greet the parchment, fingers trailing across the paper, she removed the seal with ease, pushing a finger swiftly across the parchment, several times as to read the brail. A frown now spreading across her features as she listened intently to his next words, her now, finally speaking.

"A war, you say? Hrm..Now that is interesting" Her words seemed cold as a serious expression dawned upon her features. The words themselves carrying enough vocals to travel through the air and reach only the man she was now conversing with, like she had trained it to do.

What he was feeling now bliss. She deserved it, after all. He heard her words, they rang through his ears, and just amplified this ecstatic feeling inside of him. He looked at her, her face, the look of seriousness spreading across her face. He felt a pang of disappointment at that, as he was expecting something more along the lines of fear, maybe regret, something with a little more graveness. But, thinking back on it, he knew he had been kidding himself.

Oh well, he thought to himself.

"Well, that's all," Sarto told her, "I would wish you luck, but considering we'll be seeing each other again very soon under these... circumstances, I would rather not. But, even with all the luck in the world I don't see how you could win such a fight. As you know, Amana's armies are unstoppable. But I digress. See you in two weeks."

With that he turned and strode away, the simper on his face so large it was starting to pain him. He reached the other edge of town, with the small dusty path twisting through the forest. He turned and looked back at the village. He could hardly wait until he would be allowed to leave this place. But Amana had been insistent, "Wait for the army to arrive and conquer before you leave."

He sneered at no one in particular. Those almond eyes were now hooded and dark. His good humour had faded. He snarled and started of down the road, stopping just a few feet into the forest to head off the path. He walked for a while before he arrived at a small tent, and crouched down beside it. He couldn't start a fire, the smoke would give away his position, and so all the food he caught had to be eaten raw. A small freshwater creek ran next to his little encampment though, and that was a bonus. He began to take off his armor. His sword was first, and he stuck that into the ground beside his tent.

Once his armor was gone he was wearing a simple gray tunic with brown leather leggings. He sighed and moved into his tent, and lay down against the hard-packed earth, trying to catch some sleep.

She arched a brow somewhat, the serious expression never sinking from her facial regions as her appendages continued to trail over the parchment, absentmindedly. It was quite strange of course, she had returned from Soul Realm only recently, she had had, of course an inclination about the oncoming war, which was indeed one of the reasons for her return but the parchment within her grasp now seemed to make such a predicament official, well as official as a war could stand.

She remained stern upon his words, the expression of seriousness still not retreating from her facial regions. She remained still, her free hand remaining upon the tsuba of her Zanpaktou - Gouzen Kigai, although of course, this was an idle motion, but she would be ready to draw her weapon if the time called for it.

"Well, that's all," The man spoke once more, his words seeming to spark another dose of annoyance within her, she remained still however, the seriousness upon her features never failing.

"I would wish you luck, but considering we'll be seeing each other again very soon under these... circumstances, I would rather not. But, even with all the luck in the world I don't see how you could win such a fight. As you know, Amana's armies are unstoppable. But I digress. See you in two weeks."

His words echoed in her mind for a further few moments before imprinting themselves within her memory. Amana..Amana..AMANA..The word that seemed to trail through her mind continuously for a further few moments, the sound of the male now pivoting slowly around, and taking his stride, his footsteps calm, yet fluent in their step.

It was a surprise that she could hear such a sound in the midst of the bustling Market Place. Yet she had trained her mind to do so, after all, it's a known fact that when someone becomes blind, their other senses become sharper, and through Martial arts and other practices she had trained her body and mind to be able to decipher such noises. It was of course, how she had survived so far.

She turned, upon no longer being able to hear the man's fluent step, nor could she now feel his presence, she moved to the side, as to take shelter beneath some low hanging rafters, to the right side of the marketplace, the Market Place itself had remained bustling as she conversed with the man, each villager continuing with their business having no idea of what was to come.

She placed the parchment down upon the wooden surface of a dusty table to her left, appendages running across the smooth surface for a moment as she pondered, them now coming to the surface of the parchment, she brought her frame forwards as to lean slightly over the table, fingers tracing over the parchment once more as to take in each word.

Her fist clenched tightly for a moment as each word sunk into her mind, it was true, that war was indeed coming and Amana wanted her retreat, her surrender, her obedience. For the first time since her return she felt anger. The message had indeed ruined the beautiful scene and although the sun continued to radiate beautiful hues of the deepest golden colors, the heat now began to grow irritating.

She stepped back for a moment, bowing her cranium in ponder. She would never retreat, never surrender, never back down to an enemy. She knew that death in a battlefield was the best and remained the greatest glory she could ever achieve. She calmed herself now, allowing her mind to be at peace as she listened to the winds whistling around her form.

Two weeks eh? ....Well, if it's a war Amana is hungry for, a war I shall indeed feed him.. She thought to herself, pushing up the parchment once more she pushed it into a small pouch at her side, turning once more, an obvious smirk dawned upon her features as she made her way through the village once more.