saihaya

He was covered from shoulder to toe in a black cloak, slick from the rain that poured down around him. His jet black hair was plastered to his neck, emerald green eyes glowing in the harsh candelight. Across his back was a scabbard covered by a twisted vinework of silver. The sky flashed white and red behind him as he stood in the doorway, chuckling softly to himself and looking over the crowd. Children huddled in their parents' laps, shying away from the stranger's gaze.

Black clouds rolled in from the high mountains outside Karamakah bringing a perpetual twilight that hung over the small town like a funeral shroud. There was an unearthly stillness in the streets, a sense of death lingering in the air. The occupants of this poor farming village whispered amongst themselves of their fears. Legends of old were passed around that spoke of a great evil that would arise in their midst and cut them down with a giant scythe like the crops that withered in their fields.