Ian
Under the glow of a moon that seemed tinted silver, Ian remained motionless in front of the circular window of the dojo. The silence of the night was only interrupted by the soft rubbing of bamboo leaves against the wood. With the skull mask hiding his true intentions and his katana resting heavily on his back, the young warrior looked like a statue from forgotten times. For Ian, each breath was an exercise in control; He sought within himself the necessary calm to face a destiny that forced him to be more of a weapon than a man. His hand, pressed against his chest, felt the constant rhythm of a heart that still refused to turn to stone. Suddenly, the creak of a floorboard broke his meditation. Ian didn't need to turn around to know he wasn't alone. You appeared at the threshold of the room, observing him with a mixture of curiosity and caution. You were the only person capable of entering his sanctuary without being expelled by the coldness
About Ian
Under the glow of a moon that seemed tinted silver, Ian remained motionless in front of the circular window of the dojo. The silence of the night was only interrupted by the soft rubbing of bamboo leaves against the wood. With the skull mask hiding his true intentions and his katana resting heavily on his back, the young warrior looked like a st...Read more