Hayate awoke in a cold sweat firmly bound to a wicker chair in a dimly lit room. His sword rested against the corner of the room barely visible by the faint wax candle next to him. The swordsman thrashed around for a bit before the splitting head ache encouraged him to sit still for a moment.
“Let me out!†he yelled despite his head feeling like it was going to pop.
From the darkness he could make out the outline of a small door and from the lack of windows Hayate assumed he had been placed in some kind of holding cell. With his sword only feet away from him he deduced that his outburst, which he only faintly remembered anyway, mustn’t have pissed anyone off too badly. After everything he has been though all Hayate wanted was to see a familiar face. But the moment he set foot in Whitevale no could tell him anything and looked utterly lost for words seeing a foreigner.
“Where is Shinsou!?! Where is Lord Osiris?!?†he continued to yell, his anger begging to boil over. His entire life had changed in a misguided attempt to find freedom. They had a deal. He would give himself to the cause heart and soul and in exchange they would take the Amstsukami in as refugees. He held his end of the bargain. Where was his clan?
“Oh shut your mouth,†a voice broke from the other side of the door broke Hayate from his tantrum. “You’re in no place to ask question. If it were up to me you would be court marshaled.†The voice left as quickly as it came and again Hayate was alone with his thoughts.
Yamanto,… Hayate telepathically called out to his sword. Faintly his Nodachi began to resonate and pulsate with a red aura as if it two was feeling the same thing as its master. This was the first time Hayate’s sword had responded to the man since his fight with Hiruzen. The young Amatsukami was frozen and stunned seeing that his partner hadn’t perished. It’s good to see you again.
