In a very extremely distant plain of existence, time unknown. Is a kingdom built on alliances, loyalty, despair, betrail, bloodshed. The constant battles had went from clans fighting in the streets and innocent blood being shed to now waging war in the Colosseum. On the outer edge of the kingdom lived a boy and his so called guardians. His name is Haru, most of his days in and out were spent tending to the fields or training to fight. Otosan Warui, "Haru have you finished your work with the fields?" Haru splashing his face with water from a open barrel, "Yes...father." Otosan tosses a sabre at Haru's feet, "Good let's start while we still have some light." Haru rolled forward while grabbing the sabre, once up right again he gripped the handle with one hand while using the other to open palm the spine of the blade. Successfully blocking Otosan's first attack that was aimed straight for his head. Only for the blades to bounce off each other with the ting sound and sparks to show they connected. Otosan didn't hesitate to make his next move bringing the sword round for Haru's side. Haru used every bit of his body to lean back only to have the curved sword barely miss his body just before he catapulted himself back to his feet. Haru took a few steps back to give himself time to get his footing. Otosan was not willing to let up, he rushed forward swinging back and forth as the blades met continuously. Haru did his best to keep up with the speed and strength of his father. Otosan continued the on sault looking for opening. Otosan smiling while saying, "One, two, three." Haru stumbled back as wounds on each side and across his chest opened up. He ran his hand over his chest which was now pouring blood, lifting his hand to see it covered in blood. Haru felt a rush grow inside him and he pushed forward as the sun set behind them. If someone was to walk up all they would hear or see is the ting and the sparks flying from the swords clashing with deadly intent.