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Description
Prelude

For thousands of years, the Demon Lord Kraken and the Archangel Brooklyn had been at war. One could not kill the other, for neither could exist without the other present, so the war between light and darkness raged on. So as to find a way to kill the angelic being, Kraken began to plot the birth of a new entity. An evil he himself would create from the genes of the finest demons to have ever existed during that reign. And after more than three centuries of planning and millennia’s effort and breeding, the time had finally come for the plot to take form of his second son. But this was to be nor ordinary child. Having been bred to have powers over both flesh and spirit realms, to be born as a killer of no remorse—this was not enough. So in his effort to create the one who would end his eternal pain, Kraken used his own breath to give the being life within the womb of his mother (of whom hosted angelic origins herself), birthing the essence of Kraken’s own reflection. The thing he despised the most took the shape of what he required. Emotions of the flesh would thrive in the offspring of the Demon Lord, granting him the power over the heart that plagued Kraken so, thus creating an equal to the demon’s strength. The child would grow beneath his shadow. He would be trained to use the powers he’d been blessed with upon conception. He would be the one to bring about the end of the angel Brooklyn, for he was not only a shadow, he was the light that cast it against Kraken’s frame. He would be the one to accomplish what his father could not. He would be the tool Kraken would use to end the suffering of his soul…

The child opened his eyes for the first time, taking in its alien surroundings as his father held him close, rocking him gently.
“He’s perfect,” the boy heard a voice say. He didn’t understand—he couldn’t yet comprehend the words, but he could see from the expression in the face that cuddled to his that this was his home. He rubbed at his eyes and yawned sleepily, his long, forked tail whipping weakly with its new strength. His father rubbed the boy’s tail, warming it, and making the child giggle with the natural ecstasy that all babies have at first birth.
“What will you name him, sir?” the voice whispered again, gaining the child’s attention. He looked towards where his sensitive, pointed ears sensed the voice, his large, blue, slitted eyes focusing in on another from. He giggled and reached out towards it, but his attention was abruptly snatched up by red and black strings of hair that were hanging over his face, tickling his soft, tanned skin. He giggled and tugged the strands curiously, but they were quickly pulled from his playful fingers, making him giggle again.
“His name shall be my own,” his father smiled. “For he is an extension of by being. He will be great, and he will cast fear into the heart of all that oppose him. He is my son—my beloved, perfect son.
The child giggled triumphantly as he again pulled his father’s bangs down, his little, clawed feet flailing wildly in the air.
“He’s energetic,” the other being noted as his father carried him to sit down. “He will grow up to be a powerful Demon Lord like his father and creator, of that I am sure.”
“He was molded from the genes of the darkest demons, from the shadows of my own soul, and from the pain and suffering of a million angels. Yes, he will be omnipotent in this realm of the mortals.”
The Demon Lord rocked his son quietly, hushing him as he began to whine. And all for a moment was perfect in the dimly lit cavern. For a moment in time, all was right, and that was just how he wanted it.

The years passed and the young demon grew into the strength he was designed and destined to have. He slowly began to explore his unique powers, quickly revealing his elements to be that of ice, fire, and shadow types. And Kraken was proud.
But as time progressed, the child’s heart grew soft to the presence of mortals. One of these was a young creature his father kept locked away in the back of their cavern—a creature his father called ‘Gynosphinkx’. It was a strange thing, with a human-like body covered in light purple fur. It had claws for nails, and paw-like feet. It also has a tail with white strings on the end, and a pair of purple, feathery wings with white tips. The child grew increasingly curious of the little thing as the days passed. Every night, Kraken would feed the creature, and every time he wondered why Kraken never released it from its enclosure. One night he decided he was going to take go and see the small animal, for his insatiable curiosity compelled him to do so until he couldn’t stand it anymore. So, while his father slept, the boy crept to the creature’s cell.
It was frightened and confused, for no one had ever entered its small enclosure before. And so as the boy knelt down and reached out to pet it, the creature hissed and cooed and fretted about in its murky corner viscously.
“I’m not going to hurt you,” the boy promised quietly, not retreating his small hand.
The creature cooed lightly, and, having decided he was not a threat, leaned in slowly and sniffed at his fingers, and instinctively pulled its head down as the demon child’s fingertips touched one of its long ears. After several minutes of persuasion, he managed to earn the creature’s weak trust. He decided to come back, and come back he did—every night for the next three years. He would feed Gynosphinkx and cuddle with it, sometimes falling asleep within the cage and waking up just in time to escape his father’s waking, which would most certainly bring his wrath if he were to find the child with the creature in such an affectionate way.
Another strange aspect that had evolved within the demon child’s heart was a fondness toward humanity. Since his father was the strongest fallen angel in existence, Kraken often killed groups of humans for no apparent reason. The endless and pointless bloodshed tore at the young demon’s heart. He knew it was wrong. He knew something had to be done. But what? His father would never listen to him, and he was far too young to defend the humans himself. So all he did was stand by and watch them be tortured and ravished to the point it made him sick. He would, however, late at night when his father slept, crawl out and help anyone his father had left alive. He would help find the living and treat the wounded. He was not very appreciated, however. He was feared and most people wouldn’t assist him while he rummaged through the rubble.
One night, while lying awake in his bed, the boy knew he had to do something. And he knew of where to go. So, when daylight came and his father slept peacefully, the demon child ran off. He ran to the temple of the angel Brooklyn, his uncle, and his father’s worst opponent.
“Lord Brooklyn,” the child bowed as the angel stepped out to meet him, “I am in need of your help. My father has been killing the humans and I am not strong enough yet to stop him. I cannot allow him to continue with his bloody rampage, but I do not know what to do. I was hoping that you, being an angelic creature, might be able to assist me in my current despair.”
After several long seconds of careful investigation of the child’s sincerity, Brooklyn smiled and kneeled. He placed a hand on the child’s chin, pulling his eyes to meet him own, and whispered, “You are pure of heart, dear child. Your words are that of truth, and I know you wish to become more.”
“Can you help me?”
“That I can. But the outcome may not be what you expect. It will change your life to the end of eternity, and you will never again be able to see your father as your father, but as your enemy,” the angel warned. “Do you still wish to become what you desire even after all of what I have told you?”
The child nodded and Brooklyn smiled, blinking reverently and picking the boy up into his arms.

When the child had returned to his home, even though Brooklyn had recommended he stay with him, he had been transformed into an angel. His heart, soul, and wings were bleached white, and his glowing demeanor reflected the change. But when Kraken saw what his son had done, he became enraged. All of the work he’d put into creating the child had been lost in an instant. His dream had been shattered and lye in pieces at his feet. Kraken knew the boy had to be destroyed.
“What a waste,” he growled as he pulled out his sword, making the child’s slitted eyes widen. “And to think that I actually cared about you. Well, this is easily fixed. But I must say, I am quite disappointed with you, son. Becoming an angel! And using my own opponent against me, nonetheless! Do you not love me? Did I not care for you? Did I not feed and clothe you?”
“You will always be my father,” the angel child replied nervously as Kraken backed him into a corner. “But I cannot allow you to murder innocent people anymore!”
“You always did have a soft spot for humans,” his father growled. “If you love them so much, I guess it is only proper that you die as one of them!” Kraken swung and missed, the child scurrying between his legs and running for the cavern door. With a loud kiss, Kraken transformed into his dragon form and lunged at the child, slashing the boy across his left side with his squar. The child lay wounded, holding his side desperately in attempt to keep his innards on the inside of his body. He cried out, and before Kraken could deliver the final blow, Brooklyn flew down, slashing the demon across the face, temporarily blinding him. The angel gently picked the child up and took to the skies, leaving the demon lord to his bloody screeching and hisses of vengeance.
“I will kill him, Brooklyn!” Kraken hissed. “The child will not see adulthood!”

Brooklyn nursed the child back to health, but the scar would never fade from the boy’s side as long as he lived. Brooklyn taught the child the basics of being an angel. He taught him how to love, and how to protect those you loved. In the angel’s presence, the child found peace. But Brooklyn knew all too well that it wouldn’t be long until Kraken came for the child, so he contacted a fellow Gatekeeper—Levi, the Angel of Water. He handed the child over to Levi, and at a good time. For not but a month later, Kraken and Brooklyn were recaptured within their crystal prisons.
Unable to take care of a infant on his own, Levi took the boy to a renowned demon slayer tribe, entrusting them with the care of the boy. To protect the child from Kraken’s wrath, Levi wiped the boy’s memory of being a demon, now an angel, or being Kraken’s son. He subdued the child’s wings and his tail to help the boy to blend in more with the other children. Levi said he would return to the tribe when the child turned eighteen and would tell him the truth. For the boy was still a key component in the fight against Kraken. Levi could only pray the child did not become corrupt, for it would unleash the demonic force he was born to be.
The tribe knew he must have a name, so they all got together one night to confer and decide. They decided on James, for it was the name of a recently passed away slayer of whose origins were quite overshadowed.
The child’s playful demeanor quickly granted him numerous friends. One of these was the daughter of Regae, one of the more prominent demon slayers, and a Flesh angel—the young and exuberant Kathrine. She was two years older than him, but the two quickly hit it off and became close friends. Kathrine, in her playful way, decided he was in need of a nickname.
“All the good slayers have one,” she smiled. His ability to wield a fire that was cold bestowed upon him his new nickname: Coldfire. The nickname stuck and quickly spread through the tribe. By his eighth birthday, no one would know ‘Coldfire’ wasn’t his real name.
But, even with Kathrine’s friendship, Coldfire was often made fun of by the other children for his strange appearance and powers. It became so bad that he decided one late night to run away. But when he got just over the hill, he ran into a young girl. She had bright purple eyes and was dressed in a white kimono. She had pointed ears just like his, and a pair white, feathered wings. Her white attire, however, was splotched with a splash of red, where she held her hands close. She let out a cry of pain before collapsing. Coldfire ran to the fallen angel and picked her up, carrying her back to the camp and seeking immediate help from Kathrine’s parents. The angel explained that a pack of wolf demons had attacked her. He told her that she would be safe there, and she would be protected.
Her name was Akari, and she and Coldfire became immediate friends. They and Kathrine would play, eat, and sleep together. You’d almost never see one of the three without another close by. They were a group of some of the best friends you’d ever see. But, as close as he and Kathrine were, Coldfire and Akari were even closer. And, as the years passed, the two became even closer.
When he turned thirteen, Coldfire confessed his love for the young Akari, whom immediately reflected his feelings. The two were inseparable. The love that bloomed gave birth to many nights of fantasy for the two—staring into the stars, finding shapes in the clouds, midnight swims, and late hunts. It made Coldfire feel accepted and secure. His prayer before he went to bed every night consisted of Akari and his eternal love for her. And in his heart, he believed it would never end.
The years passed and Coldfire reached fifteen. He and Akari were now scheduled to be married when he turned eighteen. Every day was filled with love and wonder for the two. The other’s presence made the other’s life worth living.
But one fateful day, when Coldfire was out hunting with the others, and Akari was sick in bed, their camp was attacked by a group of high-ranking demons. Most of the warriors had gone out for the afternoon, leaving Kathrine behind as the only X Slayer (a demon slayer of the highest regarded rank) to defend the women, children, and the defenseless Akari from the ambush. But it was not enough.
But by the time Coldfire had gotten the news that the camp had been ambushed and had returned to assist Kathrine, it was too late. The camp was in ruin. Many women and children had lost their lives, and Akari had been kidnapped. He looked desperately for her, killing any demon that didn’t cooperate. But his attempts to find Akari came up empty.
With the loss of not only family and friends but of his fiancée, Coldfire withdrew into a state of isolated depression, during of which he wouldn’t eat, sleep, or see anyone but the very concerned Kathrine. If it hadn’t been for her comforting presence, he surely wouldn’t have survived. Coldfire swore he’d never love again.
A year passed and he turned seventeen. His personality was the same, but his heart was deeply wounded. The only one who could sense his pain was of course Kathrine, who was now his only joy in life. He found other ways to funnel his pain. Coldfire often raced cars in the cities. “It’s a way to make spare change,” he had told her so very often. But she knew the truth. It was a way to get away from the pain. The adrenaline was like a drug, and he came to need it. More and more he would disappear, and more and more she worried about him.
One calm, autumn morning, a stranger visited the tribe. He was a handsome mane—tall and thin, but had an impressive muscle tone. His skin was a light peach, and his eyes a blazing midnight-ocean blue with slitted pupils. He had long, straight, thin hair that was an ice blue so gentle that it was close to being white, and ran to his knees. He was dressed in a simple, blue kimono, with an open chest, and slits in the shoulders, revealing his skin. He wore a pair of white hakama, something unusual for this area of the world, Kathrine noted as she looked him over from the cracked-open door she was looking through. She listened to the stranger and her father’s conversation, focusing in with her pointed ears in hopes of hearing something that might offer a clue as to who he was. All she managed to hear was a name that sent a peculiarly familiar vibe up her spine—Levi.

Description
Prelude

For thousands of years, the Demon Lord Kraken and the Archangel Brooklyn had been at war. One could not kill the other, for neither could exist without the other present, so the war between light and darkness raged on. So as to find a way to kill the angelic being, Kraken began to plot the birth of a new entity. An evil he himself would create from the genes of the finest demons to have ever existed during that reign. And after more than three centuries of planning and millennia’s effort and breeding, the time had finally come for the plot to take form of his second son. But this was to be nor ordinary child. Having been bred to have powers over both flesh and spirit realms, to be born as a killer of no remorse—this was not enough. So in his effort to create the one who would end his eternal pain, Kraken used his own breath to give the being life within the womb of his mother (of whom hosted angelic origins herself), birthing the essence of Kraken’s own reflection. The thing he despised the most took the shape of what he required. Emotions of the flesh would thrive in the offspring of the Demon Lord, granting him the power over the heart that plagued Kraken so, thus creating an equal to the demon’s strength. The child would grow beneath his shadow. He would be trained to use the powers he’d been blessed with upon conception. He would be the one to bring about the end of the angel Brooklyn, for he was not only a shadow, he was the light that cast it against Kraken’s frame. He would be the one to accomplish what his father could not. He would be the tool Kraken would use to end the suffering of his soul…

The child opened his eyes for the first time, taking in its alien surroundings as his father held him close, rocking him gently.
“He’s perfect,” the boy heard a voice say. He didn’t understand—he couldn’t yet comprehend the words, but he could see from the expression in the face that cuddled to his that this was his home. He rubbed at his eyes and yawned sleepily, his long, forked tail whipping weakly with its new strength. His father rubbed the boy’s tail, warming it, and making the child giggle with the natural ecstasy that all babies have at first birth.
“What will you name him, sir?” the voice whispered again, gaining the child’s attention. He looked towards where his sensitive, pointed ears sensed the voice, his large, blue, slitted eyes focusing in on another from. He giggled and reached out towards it, but his attention was abruptly snatched up by red and black strings of hair that were hanging over his face, tickling his soft, tanned skin. He giggled and tugged the strands curiously, but they were quickly pulled from his playful fingers, making him giggle again.
“His name shall be my own,” his father smiled. “For he is an extension of by being. He will be great, and he will cast fear into the heart of all that oppose him. He is my son—my beloved, perfect son.
The child giggled triumphantly as he again pulled his father’s bangs down, his little, clawed feet flailing wildly in the air.
“He’s energetic,” the other being noted as his father carried him to sit down. “He will grow up to be a powerful Demon Lord like his father and creator, of that I am sure.”
“He was molded from the genes of the darkest demons, from the shadows of my own soul, and from the pain and suffering of a million angels. Yes, he will be omnipotent in this realm of the mortals.”
The Demon Lord rocked his son quietly, hushing him as he began to whine. And all for a moment was perfect in the dimly lit cavern. For a moment in time, all was right, and that was just how he wanted it.

The years passed and the young demon grew into the strength he was designed and destined to have. He slowly began to explore his unique powers, quickly revealing his elements to be that of ice, fire, and shadow types. And Kraken was proud.
But as time progressed, the child’s heart grew soft to the presence of mortals. One of these was a young creature his father kept locked away in the back of their cavern—a creature his father called ‘Gynosphinkx’. It was a strange thing, with a human-like body covered in light purple fur. It had claws for nails, and paw-like feet. It also has a tail with white strings on the end, and a pair of purple, feathery wings with white tips. The child grew increasingly curious of the little thing as the days passed. Every night, Kraken would feed the creature, and every time he wondered why Kraken never released it from its enclosure. One night he decided he was going to take go and see the small animal, for his insatiable curiosity compelled him to do so until he couldn’t stand it anymore. So, while his father slept, the boy crept to the creature’s cell.
It was frightened and confused, for no one had ever entered its small enclosure before. And so as the boy knelt down and reached out to pet it, the creature hissed and cooed and fretted about in its murky corner viscously.
“I’m not going to hurt you,” the boy promised quietly, not retreating his small hand.
The creature cooed lightly, and, having decided he was not a threat, leaned in slowly and sniffed at his fingers, and instinctively pulled its head down as the demon child’s fingertips touched one of its long ears. After several minutes of persuasion, he managed to earn the creature’s weak trust. He decided to come back, and come back he did—every night for the next three years. He would feed Gynosphinkx and cuddle with it, sometimes falling asleep within the cage and waking up just in time to escape his father’s waking, which would most certainly bring his wrath if he were to find the child with the creature in such an affectionate way.
Another strange aspect that had evolved within the demon child’s heart was a fondness toward humanity. Since his father was the strongest fallen angel in existence, Kraken often killed groups of humans for no apparent reason. The endless and pointless bloodshed tore at the young demon’s heart. He knew it was wrong. He knew something had to be done. But what? His father would never listen to him, and he was far too young to defend the humans himself. So all he did was stand by and watch them be tortured and ravished to the point it made him sick. He would, however, late at night when his father slept, crawl out and help anyone his father had left alive. He would help find the living and treat the wounded. He was not very appreciated, however. He was feared and most people wouldn’t assist him while he rummaged through the rubble.
One night, while lying awake in his bed, the boy knew he had to do something. And he knew of where to go. So, when daylight came and his father slept peacefully, the demon child ran off. He ran to the temple of the angel Brooklyn, his uncle, and his father’s worst opponent.
“Lord Brooklyn,” the child bowed as the angel stepped out to meet him, “I am in need of your help. My father has been killing the humans and I am not strong enough yet to stop him. I cannot allow him to continue with his bloody rampage, but I do not know what to do. I was hoping that you, being an angelic creature, might be able to assist me in my current despair.”
After several long seconds of careful investigation of the child’s sincerity, Brooklyn smiled and kneeled. He placed a hand on the child’s chin, pulling his eyes to meet him own, and whispered, “You are pure of heart, dear child. Your words are that of truth, and I know you wish to become more.”
“Can you help me?”
“That I can. But the outcome may not be what you expect. It will change your life to the end of eternity, and you will never again be able to see your father as your father, but as your enemy,” the angel warned. “Do you still wish to become what you desire even after all of what I have told you?”
The child nodded and Brooklyn smiled, blinking reverently and picking the boy up into his arms.

When the child had returned to his home, even though Brooklyn had recommended he stay with him, he had been transformed into an angel. His heart, soul, and wings were bleached white, and his glowing demeanor reflected the change. But when Kraken saw what his son had done, he became enraged. All of the work he’d put into creating the child had been lost in an instant. His dream had been shattered and lye in pieces at his feet. Kraken knew the boy had to be destroyed.
“What a waste,” he growled as he pulled out his sword, making the child’s slitted eyes widen. “And to think that I actually cared about you. Well, this is easily fixed. But I must say, I am quite disappointed with you, son. Becoming an angel! And using my own opponent against me, nonetheless! Do you not love me? Did I not care for you? Did I not feed and clothe you?”
“You will always be my father,” the angel child replied nervously as Kraken backed him into a corner. “But I cannot allow you to murder innocent people anymore!”
“You always did have a soft spot for humans,” his father growled. “If you love them so much, I guess it is only proper that you die as one of them!” Kraken swung and missed, the child scurrying between his legs and running for the cavern door. With a loud kiss, Kraken transformed into his dragon form and lunged at the child, slashing the boy across his left side with his squar. The child lay wounded, holding his side desperately in attempt to keep his innards on the inside of his body. He cried out, and before Kraken could deliver the final blow, Brooklyn flew down, slashing the demon across the face, temporarily blinding him. The angel gently picked the child up and took to the skies, leaving the demon lord to his bloody screeching and hisses of vengeance.
“I will kill him, Brooklyn!” Kraken hissed. “The child will not see adulthood!”

Brooklyn nursed the child back to health, but the scar would never fade from the boy’s side as long as he lived. Brooklyn taught the child the basics of being an angel. He taught him how to love, and how to protect those you loved. In the angel’s presence, the child found peace. But Brooklyn knew all too well that it wouldn’t be long until Kraken came for the child, so he contacted a fellow Gatekeeper—Levi, the Angel of Water. He handed the child over to Levi, and at a good time. For not but a month later, Kraken and Brooklyn were recaptured within their crystal prisons.
Unable to take care of a infant on his own, Levi took the boy to a renowned demon slayer tribe, entrusting them with the care of the boy. To protect the child from Kraken’s wrath, Levi wiped the boy’s memory of being a demon, now an angel, or being Kraken’s son. He subdued the child’s wings and his tail to help the boy to blend in more with the other children. Levi said he would return to the tribe when the child turned eighteen and would tell him the truth. For the boy was still a key component in the fight against Kraken. Levi could only pray the child did not become corrupt, for it would unleash the demonic force he was born to be.
The tribe knew he must have a name, so they all got together one night to confer and decide. They decided on James, for it was the name of a recently passed away slayer of whose origins were quite overshadowed.
The child’s playful demeanor quickly granted him numerous friends. One of these was the daughter of Regae, one of the more prominent demon slayers, and a Flesh angel—the young and exuberant Kathrine. She was two years older than him, but the two quickly hit it off and became close friends. Kathrine, in her playful way, decided he was in need of a nickname.
“All the good slayers have one,” she smiled. His ability to wield a fire that was cold bestowed upon him his new nickname: Coldfire. The nickname stuck and quickly spread through the tribe. By his eighth birthday, no one would know ‘Coldfire’ wasn’t his real name.
But, even with Kathrine’s friendship, Coldfire was often made fun of by the other children for his strange appearance and powers. It became so bad that he decided one late night to run away. But when he got just over the hill, he ran into a young girl. She had bright purple eyes and was dressed in a white kimono. She had pointed ears just like his, and a pair white, feathered wings. Her white attire, however, was splotched with a splash of red, where she held her hands close. She let out a cry of pain before collapsing. Coldfire ran to the fallen angel and picked her up, carrying her back to the camp and seeking immediate help from Kathrine’s parents. The angel explained that a pack of wolf demons had attacked her. He told her that she would be safe there, and she would be protected.
Her name was Akari, and she and Coldfire became immediate friends. They and Kathrine would play, eat, and sleep together. You’d almost never see one of the three without another close by. They were a group of some of the best friends you’d ever see. But, as close as he and Kathrine were, Coldfire and Akari were even closer. And, as the years passed, the two became even closer.
When he turned thirteen, Coldfire confessed his love for the young Akari, whom immediately reflected his feelings. The two were inseparable. The love that bloomed gave birth to many nights of fantasy for the two—staring into the stars, finding shapes in the clouds, midnight swims, and late hunts. It made Coldfire feel accepted and secure. His prayer before he went to bed every night consisted of Akari and his eternal love for her. And in his heart, he believed it would never end.
The years passed and Coldfire reached fifteen. He and Akari were now scheduled to be married when he turned eighteen. Every day was filled with love and wonder for the two. The other’s presence made the other’s life worth living.
But one fateful day, when Coldfire was out hunting with the others, and Akari was sick in bed, their camp was attacked by a group of high-ranking demons. Most of the warriors had gone out for the afternoon, leaving Kathrine behind as the only X Slayer (a demon slayer of the highest regarded rank) to defend the women, children, and the defenseless Akari from the ambush. But it was not enough.
But by the time Coldfire had gotten the news that the camp had been ambushed and had returned to assist Kathrine, it was too late. The camp was in ruin. Many women and children had lost their lives, and Akari had been kidnapped. He looked desperately for her, killing any demon that didn’t cooperate. But his attempts to find Akari came up empty.
With the loss of not only family and friends but of his fiancée, Coldfire withdrew into a state of isolated depression, during of which he wouldn’t eat, sleep, or see anyone but the very concerned Kathrine. If it hadn’t been for her comforting presence, he surely wouldn’t have survived. Coldfire swore he’d never love again.
A year passed and he turned seventeen. His personality was the same, but his heart was deeply wounded. The only one who could sense his pain was of course Kathrine, who was now his only joy in life. He found other ways to funnel his pain. Coldfire often raced cars in the cities. “It’s a way to make spare change,” he had told her so very often. But she knew the truth. It was a way to get away from the pain. The adrenaline was like a drug, and he came to need it. More and more he would disappear, and more and more she worried about him.
One calm, autumn morning, a stranger visited the tribe. He was a handsome mane—tall and thin, but had an impressive muscle tone. His skin was a light peach, and his eyes a blazing midnight-ocean blue with slitted pupils. He had long, straight, thin hair that was an ice blue so gentle that it was close to being white, and ran to his knees. He was dressed in a simple, blue kimono, with an open chest, and slits in the shoulders, revealing his skin. He wore a pair of white hakama, something unusual for this area of the world, Kathrine noted as she looked him over from the cracked-open door she was looking through. She listened to the stranger and her father’s conversation, focusing in with her pointed ears in hopes of hearing something that might offer a clue as to who he was. All she managed to hear was a name that sent a peculiarly familiar vibe up her spine—Levi.