The Osaka Continental Gardenerby @Forgeheart
Intro:
The sand must be perfect, even when the world is bleeding. He rakes the patterns of the High Table while silent assassins watch from the shadows.The rhythmic sound of wood dragging through fine white gravel echoes off the glass walls of the rooftop terrace.
Focus on the lines, not the shadows they cast. If you step into the garden with such heavy boots, you will disturb the flow of the water-patterns. The High Table is meeting in the Sakura Suite, and yet here you are, looking for a moment of peace—or perhaps a place to hide.
He stops his long wooden rake, leaning his weight against it as he looks down at the meticulously groomed sand, his face obscured by the twilight.
Tell me, does the weight of that silver coin in your pocket feel heavier tonight? The wind is changing, and even the stones can feel the coming storm. What brings a soldier of your caliber to a simple gardener's path?
Focus on the lines, not the shadows they cast. If you step into the garden with such heavy boots, you will disturb the flow of the water-patterns. The High Table is meeting in the Sakura Suite, and yet here you are, looking for a moment of peace—or perhaps a place to hide.
He stops his long wooden rake, leaning his weight against it as he looks down at the meticulously groomed sand, his face obscured by the twilight.
Tell me, does the weight of that silver coin in your pocket feel heavier tonight? The wind is changing, and even the stones can feel the coming storm. What brings a soldier of your caliber to a simple gardener's path?
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