✯ The Way of a Warrior ✯ | TheRealHermione & WarriorHeart

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TheRealHermione

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Storyline
A mother's arms, enough to be wrapped in. A father's hand, never to feel. A brother she had, but he had gone off long ago, dragged away by one of the Akuma, surely taken to their dark realm - the realm Akum - to be tortured, killed, and consumed. But she cannot allow herself to think about that. Not now, not ever.

Anzen has always been a dangerous nation to live in, especially since the Akuma opened the portals between Anzen and Akum. They have infiltrated the world, intelligent beasts who feed off of pain and despair. They take captives to work as slaves and to, in the long run, consume. There's hardly a family that doesn't know the pain of loosing a loved one to these monsters.

There is, however, a light in the darkness. And this light is the Mamoru, warriors specially trained to fight the Akuma. It is there job to slay these beasts and do all that they can to seal off the portals once and for all.

When she is sent away to be trained by the youngest Mamoru general in Anzen, she knows what she desires - honor and release of her brother. He is a wise young man, but she rarely heeds him, earning herself the brutal punishments of a Mamoru trainee.

As she finally opens up her ears, she learns about herself and her master...
And if she keeps on fighting, she might learn about her true heritage...



Additional Information
On Sarai: Basically, her father is one of the Akuma (her mother didn't know this until much later), and her older brother wasn't exactly abducted -- he more or less went the realm of Akum with his father willingly. It was around that time that Sarai's mother learned of her husband's true identity, though she keeps this information from Sarai. Sarai's demon blood has little to no affect on her, except for the fact that she can detect portals to the realm of Akum, as a part of her genetics calls it home without her knowledge. The detection of a portal will put her into a daze where she's barely aware of anything around her, almost a hypnotic state where she can hardly resist but approach the portal, if only to snap back to her senses just before she unwittingly passes through.

On the World: It's kind of like the modern world reverted back to simpler times after what is widely considered the "apocalypse," basically the initial invasion of the Akuma. Humans found out quickly that the demons could manipulate modern technology with ease, so they basically reverted from electricity to fire and candles, from guns to swords and bows, from cars to horses, from cities to villages, from industry to simple trades like farming and carpentry, from mass-creation to a stand-still, all for their own safety. What we'd consideechnology is still around, but their numbers are few and they are quite dangerous to hold in your possession. I'd say that the Great Revertion happened maybe two and a half centuries ago at this point. Most people believe it to be a myth.

On the People: Species in Anzen are mostly humane, but there are almost always bards and warlocks in human villages. Both are magic-bearing creatures, and the only difference is that bards wield magic of the earth and warlocks wield demonic magic.

On the Picture of the Rose: I associate roses with warriors. There's both beauty and danger in what they do.


Character Sheet
Name: (full)
Age: (eh, just keep it reasonable)

Gender:
Role:
Appearance: (Hey! Here's the link you sent me for the pic, so you can easily copy it! http://media-cache-ec0.pinimg.com/736x/58/3c/e1/583ce13dae5f1a4a86521cf781bc39db.jpg )
Traits: (five personality traits)
Other: (optional)




Sarai Kaamilee Nadir
Twenty-Two || Female || Trainee

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Over-Eager || Stuboorn || Prideful || Driven || Foolhardy


 
Name: Azmere Dak'kon
Age: 31
Gender: Male
Role: Mamoru Field General
Appearance:
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Traits: Introspective, Methodical, Strong, Even-keeled, Strict
Other: Azmere was recently promoted to a Field General after the last two [of four] were mysteriously killed in highly regulated and well-controlled regions. The Mamoru Council selected Azmere to track down a few rumors and leads to see if the tactics of the Akuma have adapted. This is a rather big deal since the war had almost ground to a stalemate in recent years. Fearing a renewed offensive from the Akuma, the Council elected to send one of its brightest stars on this perilous endeavor. The one catch was that Azmere would have to double his mission as a long-term training exercise for a new recruit. This is something he had reservations about but would not refuse a direct order so his protests were short-lived.
 
((Yay! OP time! ^^))


Two hooded strangers shuffle down the streets in the pouring-down rain, an odd sight in Anzen. But, alas, there is no one to question such an anomaly; shutters had been drawn tight to ward off the wicked beast of a storm that had befallen the village. Doors are locked tight, and families huddle together by the fireplace, desperate for its warmth and comfort. They say not a word, content to listen to the crackling and breathe in the warm, smoky scent.

The two strangers draw closer to ward off a particularly horrid gust of wind, keeping their heads down and their hoods up. Indeed, even if they were to remove their hoods, no one would recognize the pair in their midst. This pair is, after all, from a few villages away, from a village quite smaller than this one. They had been trekking purposefully on for near a week to get here and had stayed in the local inn for yet another week while the younger girl's mother worked out the kinks in their purpose, their reason for coming this far.


But now, everything is in place. The mother had confirmed the plans for her daughter a few days ago and knows they must carry on with things. They had then moved on to find the village home where her daughter's newly assigned master would meet. She would soon be leaving this town... Leaving without her daughter, placing the girl into the care of a near-stranger barely older than she.

The daughter, however, is eager. Eager to be out of the cold, eager to meet her new master, eager to begin her training as Mamoru warrior, the praised defenders of Anzen. She desires nothing more than glory and honor... And to venge her brother's death.

The women veer off of the path suddenly, turning into the woods. There is no road where they tread, but the mother knows the way well, having traveled it each day of the past week while her daughter locked herself in a room in the inn. They both know very well the dangers of veering off the path, for the Akuma dwell in only the darkest of shadows, but it is unavoidable. Besides, many of the demonic creatures couldn't stand the weeping of the heavens. Many, but not all.

After continuing on for some time, a small house appears in a small clearing in the forest. The daughter's heart begins to pound with adrenaline, and her eyes light up in excitement. She begins to bound towards the house, but her mother sticks out an arm to halt her, giving her daughter a mildly stern look. The girl can barely hear her mother's words over the relentless howling of the wind.

"You mustn't senselessly invade one's dwelling place, Sarai," she says in her signature hushed, scholarly tones. "Especially the dwelling place of a Mamoru. Master Dak'kon is supposed to be expecting me to bring you tonight, indeed, but he will not take kindly to a sudden invasion by his new pupil."

Sarai hangs her head, a strand of red hair falling forward from underneath her patched brown hood, but says not a word. Mother had always said that the best way to show remorse to superiors is through respectful silence, especially when they're clearly deep within the realms of their own thoughts and memories. Not that she usually cares. But her mother... Well, she's a special case since Latif's disappearance.

Mother strides soundlessly toward the structure, the rain and wind masking her footsteps. Sarai follows in silence, biting down on her lip to restrain the myriad of questions that are begging to pass through her lips, to be released into existance for consideration and perhaps even comprehendable answers.

Holding her hood closed, Mother reaches out to rap on the door thrice. "Master Dak'kon?" she calls in a louder voice. "It is I, Madam Nadir. I trust they told you I'd be bringing my daughter tonight?" Sarai looks on in silent anticipation, willing the door to open.
 
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The world had gone to shit. It was no big secret. The way of life that humans had known for centuries was gone and it had been replaced by a time of fear, distrust and cowardice. The advancements in technology that had brought about an end to a great deal of the world's problems soon became the things that helped destroy it. The demons had some kind of ability to sense and track anything high-tech. People began to revert back to the ways of their forefathers' forefathers. Many did not survive the transition. Hard work was lost on the masses and their casualty rate reflected as such.
A lone figure sat high up in a tree where he was well camouflaged. He did not mind the change in culture. He thrived in its bare-bones mentality. It was, perhaps, the strongest reason given for his success. Some people are born to work in a shop or school or hospital. This man was born to survive. He was more skilled in woodlore as a child than most of the remaining population would ever be in their entire lives.

This was the reason there were two outsiders shuffling along the wet and muddy path. They were coming to see him. One was entrusting care of the other to him; to teach, to train, to create. He moved with the howling wind and driving rain from branch to branch. His movements shadowed their trek towards a lonely cabin. As the two figures drew near their destination, one moved towards the door but was stopped by the other.

"You mustn't senselessly invade one's dwelling place, Sarai,"


The man in the trees made his descent down a very large oak. He had been in this place for a while and had worked out perfect routes which allowed him access to the treetops without being seen. This oak had been struck by lightning and split into two massive trunks. The undergrowth of the forest entwined itself around this old being and wove it into a loose stability. It made the ideal location for a person to climb because it was completely obscured from view.

Once on the ground, he adjusted his bow and moved with padded steps towards the front door. He had a hood pulled tight over his head and low over his eyes to ward off the stinging rain. The apparent elder of the two knocked on the wood door. She spoke in a clear voice that gave the woodsman pause. He glanced around while still advancing on the cabin.

"Master Dak'kon?"
she calls in a louder voice. "It is I, Madam Nadir. I trust they told you I'd be bringing my daughter tonight?"

He was only few steps behind them at this point. He responded in a soft, gruff tone but it was more from a hard life than irritation. "Lower your voice, Madam Nadir." He paused for them to react. He knew it wasn't fair to sneak up on people like he had but it would later be used to prove a point. "I was duly informed. Please, come with me." He turned and headed into the woods. He moved steadily and did not turn to see if they were following him. After about twenty yards of nothing but weeds and scrub grass mixed with small saplings and a few large trees, a small shelter became visible. If one wasn't looking for it, it would never be seen. Azmere was heading straight for the opening.
 
"Lower your voice, Madam Nadir." The elder woman jumps slightly as a voice sound from behind her, clutching at her chest. Sarai, who had barely reacted to the shock she felt internally, watches her mother warily for a while before turning to face a shadowy figure behind them. She squints slightly in the pouring rain, trying to make out the man's features, but to no avail. In fact, she wouldn't even be able to discern his gender if not for prior knowledge and the natural gruffness in his voice. "I was duly informed. Please, come with me."

And then the man – presumably Azmere Dak'kon – starts into the woods without a second glance at Sarai and her mother, not slowing even once. Madam Nadir pauses on the outskirts of the woods, looking leary, but her daughter coaxes her forward, resting her hand against her mother's midback and leading her onward, all while carefully concealing all emotion on her own face, the way she had taught herself over the years. "Come, Mother," Sarai says in a hushed tone. "It's all going to be alright. The woods never hurt a person." The woman opens her mouth as though to say something to her daughter, but closes it so quickly that Sarai is unsure that she even opened it in the first place.

It's not that her mother's fear is without solid reason. Hadn't Lance gone out into the woods on a night much like tonight on errand, never to return again? Sarai doesn't remember her brother as much as she'd like, in all honesty, but how could his windswept white-blonde hair, his light hazel eyes that matched her own, his kindred smile ever leave her? She can even recall the feel of his hardened hand in her soft one as he lovingly led her on to the berry fields and through the town when she was younger. And while they had occasionally bashed heads, he had always been there for her to lean on when she needed it. And she supposes that that is just the way it is with brothers.

Her mother hadn't told her the reason her brother wasn't returning when it first happened, but it hadn't taken much to guess that the demonic beings of the realm of Akum were solely to blame. All the same, she had hardened herself against tears for the sake of her poor mother, who had lost her firstborn son, the one who reminded her so much of her deceased husband. Sarai had forced herself to be strong for the both of them, and when her mother fell into a depression for a few months, she had cared for her mourning mother, doing the errands on her own and doing odd jobs for her neighbors to at least bring in some money while her mother was out of work.

Eventually, though, Mother had healed. Through sweat and tears she mended her heart, cherishing her memories rather than crying at the sound of her son's name. But Sarai… Her pain has never left her chest. Lance's name, his face, anything having to do with her older brother… It still pains her. It pains her more and more each day, so she does not on. But then, perhaps that is the issue: she has never allowed herself to cry.

As the man leading them from afar disappeared into a small, barely visible structure in the shrubbery, Sarai, helps her mother inside, tearing her mind away from such painful memories defiantly. That won't do. That won't do at all. Not now, not ever. She cannot afford to cry.
 
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Azmere did not turn around when they entered. He was bus going through some items that he was careful to let them see; a large hunting knife, a set of Akum teeth, some broken animal bones, a petrified human hand and a large, dehydrated flower. He could hear from her breathing that the mother was not happy to be in her current surroundings. He did note that the girl seemed to be perfectly fine with everything that was happening. This was good because normally the roles were reversed. Azmere had been tasked with training a handful of youthful prospects already. None have worked out. In his mind, this is because it is something the parents force upon their children since the collective pays a decent sum for the contribution of one's progeny.

Azmere turned and sat upon a small stool. He lowered his hood and revealed his dirty, unshaven face. He lifted the hunting knife and began to clean the dirt from under his fingernails. He motioned to a small bench on the other side of the tent with the tip of the blade. "Please sit and rest yourselves." He studied each of their faces. Azmere was young by hunter standards but he started earlier than most and was very good at his job. "Are you hungry, Madam and Lady Nadir?" There was a pot bubbling in the corner but it was sealed so tight that no odor arose from it. The fire was shrouded by rocks propped up to hide the flames and their light. Azmere narrowed his eyes at the red-headed girl. His stare was something fierce. He had a knack for peering through people to see what their secrets were hidden in the scars of their souls.
 
((Bumping this... Sorry, I'm struggling to get caught up again with my 1x1s. v.v ))
 
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