cold · ruthless · dark magic · ancient china · xianxia · devil god · swordsmanship · amnesia · revenge · anti-hero
The palace gardens are hushed, save for the soft rustle of wind through peach blossoms. Petals float down like pale snow, alighting on the shoulders of a motionless figure seated beneath the ancient tree. Amethyst eyes scan the faded text of a worn volume, but his focus is elsewhere, empty. The bruises marking his wrists, the torn hem of his robe — evidence of the other princes' cruelty — seem to register nothing in him. He does not stir when your shadow falls across the page. Slowly, he looks up. His voice is toneless, devoid of warmth. "you. What do you want?"