Pain, agony and deceit; all were things he hadn't expected to come across in his journey in the dunes, yet they found him nonetheless. Trials of agony and scorn seemed to flock to him like a murder of crows whether welcomed or not. It takes a stalwart person of body and mind to overcome such continuous anguish, the constant affliction and scorn took a toll on a person; and even though he hadn't shown it, Kouin had grown tired of it.
He had of rumors of mystical beings that guided and gave assurance and assistance to the wielder in dire stress, but they were rare and only showed themselves when they felt the time was right or the person was worthy. His mind was warped from constant agonizing pain and torture, he knew not who he could trust, yet he knew he himself was still correct in his path, though even that sense of mind was beginning to wane. How much longer did he have before he was truly unstable? Who would be there to fell him when that time came? Who was even capable? Akira-sama had grown old and past his prime, and was in no shape to take him; maybe the village would come at him in a singular mass and overwhelm him with sheer numbers.
His eyes casted out to the sandy dunes, his gaze held a sense of melancholy and forlorness; one that only someone who has seen years of conflict and ire filled tirades turning into merciless bloodbaths fighting over land or rank. It left a sickening taste in his mouth. He just wanted it to end, but conflict only ends with conflict; it was a vicious cycle we were all caught in, but maybe... Just maybe he could end it himself... But how could he? He was just one man against the world. I guess only time will tell.
[Wc: 315]
He had of rumors of mystical beings that guided and gave assurance and assistance to the wielder in dire stress, but they were rare and only showed themselves when they felt the time was right or the person was worthy. His mind was warped from constant agonizing pain and torture, he knew not who he could trust, yet he knew he himself was still correct in his path, though even that sense of mind was beginning to wane. How much longer did he have before he was truly unstable? Who would be there to fell him when that time came? Who was even capable? Akira-sama had grown old and past his prime, and was in no shape to take him; maybe the village would come at him in a singular mass and overwhelm him with sheer numbers.
His eyes casted out to the sandy dunes, his gaze held a sense of melancholy and forlorness; one that only someone who has seen years of conflict and ire filled tirades turning into merciless bloodbaths fighting over land or rank. It left a sickening taste in his mouth. He just wanted it to end, but conflict only ends with conflict; it was a vicious cycle we were all caught in, but maybe... Just maybe he could end it himself... But how could he? He was just one man against the world. I guess only time will tell.
[Wc: 315]
