A stirring gale, a conduit of fate, a spark of attentiveness. Fate with misfortune yet full of grandeur, a contemplating rock that may stand alone in burning sands and frigid nights. No life among the sight of peculiar interest. Indeed it twas a mix of unrefined luck and a flip of a coin. A waste land of nothing but dry culture long lost in time, the winds would whisper between crevices of rocky platforms. Such a withered state the land was in, beyond barren and beyond cultivation. Yet every grain of sand had a story to it, even if it was plain and dry. Although if each grain had such a tale, it would definitely be a long and sad anecdote. But it foretold ventures of others who would pass such a treacherous valley of nothing. Then again the sky always looked the same no matter what province you stood in. Blue with streaking clouds of white, and eventually a night sky with every jewel and diamond to be found. Such beauty could add such quality and bring forth worth, or would that be too ill minded and bias. Simplicity and the beneficial of nothing breeds simply nothing. Yet it had attracted foul beasts to the deserts with viscous intents, of filling there bellies with delicious savory flesh. They hide and wait while staying perfectly still for their prey. Completely inert so no energy is wasted, not a single bit of over exertion would be made by such creatures, truly slothful they were. Alas you couldn't blame them for how they hunted or lurked around the barren land, as it would seem the gods have given up on them, just like every simple story of each grain of sand. Wasted and stripped of title they lay in piles of nothing, forever regretting to this day, for all is just death upon on this land. Woe to any traveler who is desensitized by these perils, for many have fallen victim and so few have become quite rich.
The air was wizened to a impractical degree and the sun beamed its rays of harsh light among a man dressed in grey and red, his hair uncolored by such lighting remained its dull ashen tone. And his eyes were squinted from the luminosity. Who could this insane man be, walking on deaths path. Not heeding or relenting his pace. Who would be willing to traverse a peril in its own right, as beasts from the shadows trail him amidst his wake. And who would in there right mind be walking bare footed in blazing sand. Well that's an easy answer, it would be non other than Yukobu Haze. A man on a very peculiar quest seeking enlightenment among the many provinces and lands, whether it belong to man or the wild. It seemed fate had guided the strong willed wanderer to a extremely harsh environment on his way to the Kingdom of poison. It has been a year since he left the Air province, and many, many, many things have changed since then. But of course Yuko has a impregnable will to over come such. Well first off, he arrived at the desert a few days back following some risky danger prone treasure hunters. And eventually lost sight of them during a sandstorm, ultimately issuing Yuko as prominently lost. Ever since he has been wandering the blazing sands of nothingness. Hungry, tired and above all else parched. Though he believed that eventually something would come up and guide him to civilization or better yet refreshing water.
"
I can't even ruminate from this exhaustion being dropped on me like some burly rock, I probably should of stayed in the nearest town. Well its way past late now for any decisive actions, for now I shall let fate take hold." Yuko muttered slightly irritated from his past action of nosiness. It's true he had made a mistake to journey into the desert without being properly supplied. But he also seems quite optimistic as it was almost like training in a intense battle of will power. Yuko's goal would be to survive the desert without dying, or without breaking his resolve. The heat was intense but all thanks to his moms genes, being a fire manipulator and all that. He could withstand the suns withering rays. Continuing the journey he had come across a large worn out rocky platform that provided shade. Not like he really needed it, but it was a nice spot to relax for a while. This location had very interesting structure to it and almost looked like a potential covert in the rock side. Slowly pulling off his lute and putting it down on the sand, he laid back against the rocks. It wasn't seconds later he reached into his inside pocket and pulled out his long stylish pipe. Holding the pipe with his teeth in lips, he moved his decently sized hands into another pocket pulling out a pouch of tobacco with a interesting floral scent to it. Yuko found this type of hybrid plant that was similar to good old fashioned tobacco, except it came with a quality flavor and scent of a priceless flower. Carefully he pinched the long leaves and inserted it in the end of his pipe. With a quick snap of his fingers he lit the pipe. The aroma immediately was noticed by Yuko as he savored every second of the smell. Lightly inhaling it he would then puff out different shapes with the smoke."
Oh yes, now we have achieved inner peace." Yuko chuckled as he then puffed more smoke clouds. His face began to relax and he grew a faint smile and took a long glance into the melting horizon. The desert wasn't so bad after all. It only needed a nice seat and some tobacco with a good view of the barren death land.
Yuko repeatedly smoked, just lazing about. Until a very unusual idea protruded into his mind. ~I wonder if fate would enjoy a song. A favor for entertainment perhaps.~ Yuko thought to himself with a grin. Reaching for his lute he settled into a comfortable position and began to strum, with this music he would influence the sands a piece they would never forget. *
Song For The Sands* There he began his instrumental persuasion for fate, and the desert to grant him safe passage. It was funny to him in a way, his father Viento mentioned playing music attracted more than just people but spirits and animals to its majesty. So Yuko figured he would give it a try. More or less it made him reminisce of his past playing for the people In the Air Kingdom. Dancing figures in rhythm to the beat of the tapping on drums and the board of his lute, while the melody would take everyone to a place where heat would consume them. And all would vanish as they were then dropped from the sky, constantly falling, gliding, and softly hit patches of clouds that would ease them into a lullaby. Those were the good old days and some of his favorite memories of his Father. Yuko couldn't wait until he found the answer so he could return home to days of laze and music. Though it seems he keeps forgetting his destiny upon return to the Air Kingdom, which now is inevitable. But he wouldn't go as fare as saying fate is cruel, it has welcomed great experiences unlike anything else. For now he will continue to play his lute until fate shows gratitude with a sign.
