raki feeling a bit at peace today, he decided he wanted to lay his instrument today, in the family house, so he being in his Pajamas, he walked to the family music room, his hair down, as curly and wild as can be, but it had nothing in it, it was just loose. His feet bare as usual, he loked the cool marble floor on his feet, it was after all the family rich house. He like being here, because his family spoiled him here, anything he wanted he got it, as long as his family leader could get for him, he could have it. As he entered the music room, he walked over to the table that held his Zither in place, he then sat down, letting his Isrealian house coat surround him on the ground, his hair surrounding his body, and around him on the floor just like his coat, as he were to sat down. He then swung his wrists a bit, making his sleaves move up abit, as he were to put both hands on the strings of the zither, with the fingertips of his left hand, he held down the the notes and with fingers tips of his right hand he bare plucked the strings. 

As he played the Zither he closed his eyes, playing the tunes of his bloodline, about the wars and the bloodshed legends that has been passed down generation to generation, Raki was no fool, He knew he came from a royalty bloodline, but he also came form a mafia bloodline, two bloodlines combined, were probably not a good comination, considered he was a cold blooded killer, and at times he was calm, cold calculated, methodical, then at other times, he could be pissed off at the world and just get revenge, or maybe he oculd be getting revenge and be the same who knew. With that being thought about, As he kept his eyes closed, he allowed small breezes so flow into the music room, blowin out the candles a little bit. 

As the candles were blown out, the moonlight was able to shine in, giving the effect of night music and peace, he looked at peace for the first time, playing his heritage, as he played, he told the story of his ancestors, how they went to war, giving up everything for what wanted for reedom, for love and their homes, their honor, and each person that came back, was messed up, worse than the last. As the blood soaked up the lands, one by one, they marched, serving their country, again they marched, showing their spirit, again they marched, proving their worth, again they marched, showing their honor. 

As he played, it was like flash backs would come to vision for him, in flashes, it was almost like a spell, like history itself was showing him a story, and showing him how much the people went through to prove to their king that they were worth something, the living conditions were probably more efficient living, although today you might consider that poor living, but at least they could say they lived according to the weather conditions, and they knew how to keep their body temperature normal. As he played on into the song, he could hear the clanking the swords and the screams of men, crying out in times of battle, and time and time again, it was always people trying to over power each other. 

whether you stayed at the bottom or you went all the way to the top, you were lonely, unless you were to stay in the middle, just like where raki wanted to stay, although at time, he knew at some point he would have to get to the top, but for right now he would just chill and play this song, as he played the song, he could feel himself at a coool temperature, as if his ancestors were in aproval. He then let his fingers glide along the strings, enjoying the notes flowing from him as if he were making it up as we went along. As the breeze moved around him, his hair would move a little along with him. 

As he played the song, he felt like he was innocent at time, respecting the dead, like a ancient of honor and history coming to live, almost as if he were there, it was like he told the story of how mothers and fathers were killed in the name of hornor, or some times being used a casualties of war, which in all wars there were casualties, but he noticed in every battle that he has witnessed or that he or his ancestors had been in, they seemed to sacrifice themsleves for something or another, which sometimes it wasn't necessary, but there was not much that oculd be said or done, no matter how much you want war to not happen it will happen in some shape or form, and he has noticed that over time. 

As the song to come down from a peak, he then started to open his eyes, using his night vision, it was like everythin was glowing, and he liked it, it was like night time turned day time for him, as his eye sight adjusted, he finished the song off, with a few meloncholy soft notes, as he looked around, he could see the flowers bloowin to the notes of his music, as he then finished the last of the notes, he put both hands on the stringso of his zither, stopping from continuing to make vibrations.

He then stood up and walked over to the doors and opened them fully, as he walked out onto the balcony, and fully felt the breeze, as it would move the ends of his hair around slightly, and moving the bottom of his coat around, he smiled, looking up at the moon, missing the image of it so much, he rememberd how he used to look up at the sky every night, and wonder where his family were, but he decided not to swell on that, and he laid down on the floor of the balcony, closing his eyes, and letting himself kind of go into a meditative sleep, resting, as he waited for some to cal lapon him to do jobs as usual.