Akari is a talented young grifter, making his living on the streets of the capital during the Civil War alongside his brother Kenji, constantly dodging ceaseless attempts at being drafted into either side’s army.
A natural talent at swindling, pick-pocketing, cheating and stealing, he soon gathers a small gang of equally clever and desperate youngsters around him, making a living in any way they can. Continue reading “Akari Sinju”
Original Written Work Characters:Rannon, Saya Eztari, Akari Summary: Rannon travels in secret to the South, to convince the obstinate Southern Lords to lay down arms and swear fealty to the new King. For art and other works inspired by this, click here.
”You have not been returning my correspondence, Saya Eztari.”
She froze, three steps into the hall. Not the annoying messenger she had exasperatedly left to wait; the commanding figure sitting upon her dais at the end of the hall was unmistakable, with ice-pale eyes flashing as brightly as the regal diamonds set in his simple circlet crown.
”Sati-rama!” she gasped, floundering, trying and failing to hide her shock.
”Sati-rehu. Our King is still in the capital, awaiting your surrender. Patient, but likely not for much longer. As I have told you, multiple times, in the letters you have chosen to ignore.”
Original Written Work Characters: Rannon, Akari Summary: Akari has been chosen to serve the King’s overthrown uncle and meets the feared tyrant for the very first time. For art and other works inspired by this, click here.
Akari knocked on the door.
The only answer was silence, so he knocked again. He heard no footsteps, but suddenly the door opened, and he found himself face to face with the fallen tyrant. He fought the automatic urge to take a quick step back.
The man looked feral, tall and tense. The dungeons had taken their toll; the prince was bone thin, and while the strict clothes were neat, and the hair, still damp after a bath, was fastidiously combed, the face was gaunt and tight. Still, it were the eyes that held the boy’s full attention. The palest he’d seen, they met his own, the cold stare nailing him to the spot, pounding icicles through the back of his head.