genres: drama, acquaintances to lovers, more drama.
killing people is unethical, anti-hero turned taxpayer, pain, assassin x priest.
The Land Without A Name, avoided by many, shrouded in mystery, occupies the East of Gaia's Sea. Many have tried and failed to reach the forbidden land with its high, impassable cliffs and lush greens, its fragrant trees that carry with them songs and speak of people long gone. From afar, one sees its variety of untouchable islands, soaring in the sky, detached from the rest of the earthen land, scraping the clouds and carrying with them an air of mysticism. Long gone are the days of adrestian adventurers, hellbent on anchoring at one of their near invisible ports and reclaiming the barren, savage land. In all those years since its discovery, not one stray soul has made it back from the Nameless Land in one piece, to tell the tall tale that would crush any and all superstitions about its cursed soil. Not one of them returns, and even if they do, they are no longer sound of mind and soul, plagued by whatever curse the wayward wind has attached to them and their failing shell - they are bound to wither, to crumble to dust, to be nevermore as soon as they leave behind their penultimate destination - their last adventure. Those who still push through, who dare come home, disappear into the shadows; become an example for young, forlorn adventurers who have ample life ahead of them. The East is no fun place to be, for it never was, plagued by the misdeeds of their ancestors who dared to step foot on sacred lands, or so the myths foretell.
In reality, Houkun is far removed from the mystic death trap that many outsiders make it out to be. It is governed by the Shogunates, by powerful witches and witchers, by those infused with the breath of dragons, their royal blood pulsating in their rotten veins - they are but immortal vessels for a greater cause, focused on nothing but their own wellbeing, and known to butt heads with any and all around them. None of the splendor in old, childish scriptures remains if one were to look past the colorful camouflage and find reason within the divided, yet secretive land. The commonfolk, dictated by mages which sit above them on the evolutionary chain, live their lives in relative freedom, hardly bound by the honor one would assume they crave - not all of them can, or will do as they should and many of them lose interest in the mundane lifestyle they could be leading, as soon as coin is being offered. And yet, none of them dare leave their homeland, lest the Shoguns will send someone after them to strike them down; to keep their secrets for themselves and to lock unwanted outsiders away - they have their own way of dealing with things and, for better or for worse, are assisted by their power. Genji is one of the less fortunate souls, one of the people lucky enough to experience what it means to be "blessed" by magic, to be cursed by it, as soon as he stops abiding his man-given rules. He is but one of many, and yet, he is made an example of, made to suffer, at the whims of those above him - the ones that had initially hired him all their life, to dispose of their enemies, their allies, their friends, their families; an assassin, one that has had enough of a thousand years of bloodshed committed in someones name. And thus, he refuses to kill - and therefore, he's struck by a curse, one that is bound to keep him suffering for a thousand more.
Genji "Noroichi" = @Earinor
Mikuni-no-Homare = @Akira
Looking back, it maybe is like the toy carts you rode when you were a kid. But those toy carts could never go beyond the walls of the lawn. We want to follow the rugged concrete road beyond the wall. As we've grown, we've decided to leave behind the toy cart.