Akihito smirked under his mask, blue eyes glinting with mischievousness. He raised his bow and aimed at the small section between the helmet and armour of the his enemy, swiftly releasing the arrow. The flint arrow pierced through the man's skin, through flesh and bone, leaving him to choke on his own blood as he fell to the ground. It was a moment's hesitation that had ended his life. The man was distracted, and that had cost him his life. The archer gathered his items left on the ground and slung his bag of arrows across his shoulder, moving on to his next target.
He knew that to be a warrior all you had to have is good aim and sharp eyes. But he was born as a beautiful blond boy and that had made it hard to exhibit his strength and talent. He wasn't born a warrior, rather to be the embodiment of art. And so he ran away, rejecting the comfort of his silk sheets, the glamor of his fine clothes, and the wealth of it all to become a warrior like he had always dreamed to. Akihito was like a beautiful fish that grew wings and flew out of the water where it was safe and belonged, and instead into a world of uncertainty and danger, lurking with predators.
He was beautiful and charming, talented in sewing, dancing, and everything he was taught. He was the epitome of perfection. But underneath that facade was a short-tempered, ambitious boy who was also gifted with talents that normally unique to warriors. Only now was he able to showcase his talents, and the extensive list of people he had taken out had earned him a reputation.
Akihito was known as 'Shadow', a mysterious archer whose identity was completely unknown. He always covered his face with his signature black leather mask, in the shape of a wolf's head. The few who had ever caught sight of him could attest to that, and also that he was clothed solely in black. Even his bow and arrows were black.