He woke before dawn and stood from his bed in the dark room with a grin on his lips and made his way to his nightstand where perched nearly two dozen scented candles. Grabbing them all, he placed them in a large circle in the center of his room, proceeded to light them, then sat in the center, within the amber glow of the candles. On his lap rested his for large swords, and above them, his porcelain mask. 

Kaito Fen studied the mask, holding it before him, gazing into its empty sockets. His breathing changed then, deeper, fuller, allowing the air to travel into his stomach as he brought a cloth damped with scented oil and began wiping it over the mask. Once he was done with that, he proceeded to unsheathe one of his blades, brought out a whetstone and began, rhythmically, gliding the stone along the single edged blade. Over and over, until it seemed with each thrust, the blade sang, screeching its dreadful promise. 

He did this for all of his four swords, and by the time he was done, his naked upper body was sheathed in sweat, a deadly calm settling on his shoulders. He rose in one smooth motion and looked out his singular window. False dawn had arrived, and the smile returned to his face.

Walking over to the wardrobe, he picked out a particular set of robes, the left half of the upper body cut away – like most of his robes. This particular set was a mottled blue and white, stitched at the right shoulder and upper arm with small square plates of leather and steel; the flanks at the waist were also stitched with pyramidal steel studded leather. Underneath the robes, he wore loose pants of the same color and a sash across his waist where his swords hung.

Putting on his mask and slipping on a pair of slippers, he walked out of his rooms and out to the back of the guild house where he saw the tournament grounds prepared. He saw Artura in her armored splendor seated on a throne and smiled internally. 

Then she called his name.

He regarded Grey Skies for a long moment then turned his head and walked over to the circle, hoping it looked somewhat ominous and foreboding. He was going to make a show of this, how could he not? Everyone was watching. They were here to witness.