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Suddenly I heard the noise to the sound vague, I saw a boy covered in blood tied to a leafy tree, his head hanging soft ground, the handsome face full of pain, blood from his wounds throughout the body to flow out slowly, he did not speak, just looked at me, eyes are cold and studdorn. In his cold eyes, I see my own tears, he called the dark wing.
I want to ask grandmother why the eyes of the dark wing have my tears, but I said nothing. Grandmother smile, "Buddha says can not be said."
My dream is still repeated with a warm eyes. I know that their blank and vague memories of ignoring the most important part. I became more and more sad, my knife have become increasingly fierce, though I still have no much Scions Of Fate money.
Once again, I see the dark wing, he is young gentle handsome, but as always, cold eyes, like ice. I was standing opposite him, look straight into his eyes, as if they see a tear, I clearly saw the drops of tears is my own tears.
The dark night, trance like, 7 years if only a brief moment.
"Aunt, I am going to find the dream." Phonenix aunt held my hand, gray hair in the wind swirling.
Dark wing took me to meet his mentor, and we gradually approached the Hyun Bo bridge, "the teacher is always in the evening when the legislature in the Hyun bo bridge, he never laughed before." Dark wing pointing to bridge legislation forward of that figure said to me.
Flowing water, trees, bridges, and a warm eyes. My heart jumped up mad, it seems that the memory of what, as soon turning into a butterfly's chrysalis is ready to make trouble.
Approached, and then approached, it gradually blurred figure clear, my heart is passing a huge burst of warmth, it seems that this is what I have been hard waiting for the moment. This is a familiar scene, that is not truly a beautiful dream I do? I wait senselessly gaze that slender figure, tears surging out.
"He is my master, no sword." I heard the voice of the dark wing of pride.
He was back, I finally saw him, his face was pale, gaunt, broken bits of sunlight falls on his handsome resolute face, his eyes so familiar, warm, but sad.
I looked at him, and had been unbale to speak any language.
