Open Fields of Grace

Kalt I say goodbye to my weakness, So long to the regret, and now I see the world through diamond eyes.     When it came to working with his hands, Kalt was quite talented. He had never been someone who enjoyed dealing with people as a job – unless they were at the end of his blade – so he always liked discovering new places peacefully. Today, the breeze had a gentle nip to it, but it was generally very nice for a pleasant stroll.     His guitar hanged around his neck with the strap he had fashioned to it, fingers plucking the strings softly as he walked, crystalline eyes taking in the lands. There was a certain beauty in desolation. Of course there was some civilization and feeling of community, otherwise people would be at each other’s throats and life would have been impossible. Considering the fact that he was a person, he wasn’t exactly an outside observer, but he was good at seeing through the eyes of someone on the outside. It was amazing how resilient people were. Cast them to the wolves, and while some will lead the pack, not a single one of them will have a problem blending into the ranks. It was truly an amazing thing.     He continued gently strumming his guitar, playing along with the soft winds and moving grasses, though no words accompanied it. Kalt could sing, there wasn’t a doubt about that, but sometimes he just liked the peaceful sounds that his guitar made. One of the worst parts of coming to the new world was not having his guitar with him. As soon as he found a roof for himself and his little girl, a guitar was his next priority. He’d made a few, so it wasn’t hard to whip one up.     His attention was drawn suddenly from the sound of his music – though he didn’t stop playing – to the sound of someone approaching. The assassin quirked his brow, automatically defensive, but not making a move to show it.