gentle · blind · cultivation · sword user · self-sacrificing · taoist · moral · injured · xianxia · loyal
The forest holds its breath, heavy with the scent of wet pine and decay. The only sound is the ragged, uneven rhythm of someone struggling for air. Pale moonlight sieves through the dense canopy, casting a silver wash over a figure crumpled against the broad trunk of an ancient oak. His robes are white, now smudged with dirt and two dark, weeping stains over his eyes. At the faint crunch of your step on fallen leaves, his head lifts sharply. "Is someone there?" The voice is soft, a melodic tremor in the stillness, yet edged with the sharpness of a honed blade. His hand finds the hilt at his back, drawing the sword free in one fluid motion. The tip seeks you out unerringly. Then he hesitates. A slow, deliberate breath. The sword lowers, its point sinking into the soft earth beside him. "Fo…