Japan's Hidden Hero

There are tales that tell the story of an avatar meant to bring the light to Japan. Every one hundred years a new one is born, raised, and trained to fight the incoming darkness. This battle dictates the coming century, and whether it be of light or dark nature.

The first hero to ever exist lost his battle against the growing darkness. He lacked the training and skill to be able to overcome it, and Japan fell to darkness fated to last one century. A century in which the soul of every inhabitant of the lands would become mortal, and could no longer rebirth with the coming dragon that would come every new year, offering resurrection to all the souls that died that past year.

After the century of darkness, came a new hope. The promise of a new hero sparked the minds of the people of Japan. One that would have the possibility of returning the light to the lands. A fated hero to bring back the immortality of the people of Japan, and bring about the return of the sun. The people waited patiently, and expectantly for the light to return, yet none ever did. As the ages passed by, the people lost hope. Perhaps, the first bringer of light was the last one. Despair filled the lands, brought about a new darkness that was not caused by the curse itself. Sorrow that filled the hearts of men and women. Their wills to live broken and destroyed.

Little did they know, the bringer of light had been born, in a small town, at the foot of a mountain Kikoshiri named Iksan, a young boy named Yamamoto. Bearing the symbols of the hero, markings going up his spine representing the new coming of light; however, the darkness grew ever so eternal. This brought about a spark of fear in the young boy's mother. The fear that every mother has with her children, that her child would be subject to a gruesome fate. That he'd be unable to face the darkness and fall ill, becoming one with the creatures that roamed the sunless lands.

His father, however, did not share the same fear of this darkness. Within him grew a new hope. Being a soldier of the small town, he saw great possibility within the young boy's markings and took it upon himself to train him. Little by little, the father introduced him to the combat arts. 

As the years passed, the boy grew slightly more capable of his skills. However, hiding his training with his father behind his mother's back had hindered the speed at which he could train drastically, and before he had the capability to train for much longer, the Oni attacked the town.

The Oni, creatures birthed from the same darkness that had befallen Japan were invisible creatures to those that could not see into the soul realm and ravaged the cities and towns. Only a very select few were capable of seeing these behemoths, let alone fight them. The father- as a protector of the town- took to attempting to fight these invisible creatures. Every soldier fell to the ravaging of the Oni that day, leaving only because they'd been satisfied with the amount of light consumed from the soldiers.

This cast a new determination within Yamamoto. Watching not only his people, but his mother fall into such grief taught him of the darkness the world had fallen to. It taught him of what he was capable to prevent: Destruction, death, grief.

Yamamoto's mother grew ever more fearful of the darkness and protective of the child. He'd lost so much at such a young age, she wished to shield him from further harm. Yielding under the grief, Yamamoto began longing for a brighter world.

At the age of 18, Yamamoto stood at the gates of his town. "No more." He thought to himself, grief fueling the very determination within his soul for a brighter world. If he was meant to save it, he would no longer sit around and hope, beg and wish for the light. He'd go out himself and acquire it. 

Yamamoto fled from his home in search of the instructors of the spirit. The teachers were meant to guide him through the spiritual mastery to overcome the darkness ahead. Weeks on end he would travel from town to town, looking for a suitable teacher that would give him the knowledge he required. That would teach him the ways in which he was supposed to save the world, not only through the blade but through spiritual power itself. 

Weeks swiftly turned to months, which turned to years. Traveling in the darkened lands was a demand much too great for any sole man. Many days he spent hiding from the fearsome stomps of the Oni. Unable to see them, he'd sense them through the sheer power they generated around themselves. Many nights he'd sleep on the branches of trees, hoping that no Oni would sense his presence, and he'd wake the following day unscathed.

After years of hardships, Yamamoto became the warrior he was meant to be. One last journey, from the north-eastern end of Japan to the center, where a mountain named Líng Hún Shān stood tall. This mountain housed at its peak a city unlike any other: One that lived in two forms at once.

Those that chose to undertake the journey of Líng Hún Shān on their physical form, would do so at much less strain. At the peak lied only a ghost city. One where doors would open and close. Lights would turn on and off with the coming of the sun.

However, those who took it upon themselves to undertake the burden of the soul could climb the mountain in their spirit form. A task far more difficult. The journey was not a short one, but at the very top lies a gleaming city, a see-through version of the one at the peak with all of its inhabitants. Traders, civilians, soldiers. The city of the dead.

This city houses every being that has ever died and chosen not to resurrect with the coming year. Bustling with people from the light ages, two hundred years ago before the darkness overtook the lands. Before the same darkness stole the immortality of the soul. One, where one avatar was meant to rule over them as king until the fated battle would commence and either bring about an age of light or darkness.

Yamamoto traveled to these lands. Wielding the power of the avatar soul, he didn't suffer from the usual burdens other mortals encountered. Unlike them, who were limited to enter Líng Hún Shān only by short periods, lest they wanted their soul to detach from their physical form and be deemed dead under every account, he was already a being living between two realms and could live in the city indefinitely. As the chosen avatar, Líng Hún Shān was home to his rightful throne, and he arrived to claim it as such, promising to Japan a century of peace. He swore to the people he'd not fail on his singular task: To bring about the light once more.

Yamamoto sat at the throne of Líng Hún Shān at the age of 23. Two short years from his expected battle, he deduced he was not strong enough. He was determined: He could do better, aim higher. He could master the power of life and death itself. His training at the peak of Líng Hún Shān became ever more demanding. Strengthening the soul, whilst slowly inviting the powers of darkness to fuse within him. He was determined; if he could achieve the power of balance itself, he could master the strength of life and death.

Two years his rigorous training took. But, slowly he'd balanced the darkness into the light of his soul, and he had now become what he deemed the perfect avatar. He was capable of being powerful enough to use the power of the Oni, whilst using the power of life, creating roots, plants, and flowers brimming with life itself that responded to his every word as any soldier would. He was powerful and confident. His training had been arduous, his grasping of the powers of the avatar nigh impossible by the conditions he was set. Hiding from Oni, traveling the lands attempting to find a suitable trainer, all the while working for coin since the people of Japan had lost hope for a new avatar. It had all been unproductive, harsh. He believed in a future that could better this process for the avatar to come. A future where the avatar doesn't travel by foot from town to town, land to land, looking for a high priest of the avatar to teach the ways of old. His vision was clear, who better to teach an avatar how to harness all of this untapped power, than one that has unlocked it already himself?

Yamamoto's final year was at hand. With the coming age, he would be submitted to the battle that would dictate the fate of Japan, and he was left with a seemingly impossible choice. Fight and win the battle, ensuring one hundred much-needed years of light upon Japan and bringing peace.

Or, surrender the world to one hundred years of darkness more, but be able and ready to become the teacher, the high priest. Ensure that every avatar after him tries as hard as he once did, and in the long term, ensure not one hundred, but one thousand years of light.

Ambition filled the soul of Yamamoto, his very core shaken by the idea. Anxious, scared, there were no words to describe the gut feeling that overcame him as he faced his two choices, and every passing day, the weight grew heavier.

Yamamoto reached an impossible decision. He demanded the gates of the castle be closed, no guard, no servant was allowed within the castle walls, as he knelt in the middle of the throne room, katana at hand. The few for the many, he said to himself, as he dissected and tore apart the avatar soul from within himself. He sacrificed all of his power, all of his strength, and his very soul for the cause. He'd doom Japan to one hundred years of darkness since there was no avatar able to partake in the fated battle. But in turn, he could ensure double, triple, decuple that in years of light.

The screams from the castle could be heard, but under the very rules of the king, none dared enter. Until finally, Yamamoto came out of the castle, weak, frail. His punishment for denying fate and destiny, his whole body had aged to represent that of a 70-year-old man. His bones ached, his muscles did too. A curse to be had, for surrendering the power of the avatar. Gladly, he bore all of the punishments, should it mean the next avatar would never suffer his fate, and Japan never to suffer another century, after the coming one.

Devastated by the king's choice, the people spat at the sound of the old king's name. He became a synonym for coward. None understood his motives, the way he did. The people rose, and one man usurped Yamamoto, kicked him off the mountain for being a traitor, and gave him exile for life. He'd face the hundred years of darkness he bestowed upon Japan, as a punishment for his crime.

And that, he did. Through the one hundred years of exile, Yamamoto trained as he did when he was younger. As much as he could, with his creaking frail body. And through the one hundred years he fled from Oni and hid from the people that would sooner see him dead.

After hiding himself for a hundred years, Yamamoto sought the avatar, hoping that all had but forgotten him. Hiding under a new name, Nakamoto, Yamamoto walked through the lands looking for the new avatar, hoping to train the new prodigy that was to be blessed with his knowledge. But, to no avail. The avatar was nowhere to be seen.

Twenty years he searched before he stumbled upon a young woman, named Kono. A guard for hire for merchants and farmers from the bandits that had overtaken the lands of Japan, that informed him of the whereabouts of the avatar.

Kono told Yamamoto the story of how she'd met the new avatar by sheer coincidence, one drunken night at a tavern, sweet talks were exchanged between the two, and upon having spent the night with the avatar, soon noticed the markings on his back. She retold the story of how he'd mentioned that he'd never train, and would let the coming darkness take him. How he didn't see a reason to save a people so miserable, and filled with bandits and raiders. How he hadn't chosen his destiny, so he wouldn't need to see it through. 

Kono chained him to the very bed they laid on and ran seeking help. She intended to go to Líng Hún Shān and inform the current King of the whereabouts of the new avatar but had met Yamamoto along the way.

He agreed to go see the self-proclaimed avatar, hoping that his markings on his back would not be a farce. Hoping, that perhaps he could change the mind of the corrupt young man that carried such an important task and power. Yamamoto and Kono traveled across Japan together, hiding from the Oni and exchanging stories of the past. He never intended to reveal his true self to her, for he feared too many would hate him for his choice. They slept on a cavern hiding from Oni, then the following night, on a small hotel just beside a tavern after spending some time drinking and exchanging stories.

The night after that, Kono and Yamamoto arrived at the place where she'd chained the avatar and found him having broken free with a vengeance. He intended to take justice into his own hands and kill whoever came through the door. Kono readied herself to defend Yamamoto from the assault, but soon Yamamoto unsheathed his katana and fought bravely against the new avatar. 

His clothes were ripped and torn to shreds in his fierce battle, but he stood victorious. Such was expected of a man that had become the perfect avatar in 7 short years, let alone 100 to train. He stood on the neck of the avatar, his symbols revealed from the battle, Kono now knew who she was dealing with.

However, the corrupt avatar was not done. Determined to die on his own terms, he gripped at his blade and as best he could, stabbed himself through the side. Blood spewed and filled the floor quickly, and Yamamoto stared at the dying avatar. His years of fighting had come to a stop, and he was faced with darkness once more. His soul could no longer undertake the power of the avatar, and soon the soul would seep from the corrupted one and grant the victory to the darkness once again.

However, Kono volunteered herself. She told Yamamoto of how her choices had been nothing but corrupt and wrong her whole life. She'd done not much but indulge into the darkness and benefit from the weakness and desperation of those below her. Having spoken to Yamamoto and learning of his true identity, she saw a possibility within herself that had never been there before. That, if the old man Yamamoto was not all evil for his choices, and if he could see a brighter future through a darker present, she could be better herself, and her opportunity lay right in front of her.

She volunteered to sacrifice her soul and immortality, to bring about a new age of light, trained under Yamamoto. She begged for the possibility, the glimpse of redemption that lay in front of her, in the eyes and blood of a dying man. And, Yamamoto listened to her pleading, doing the ritual of transition unto her soul, ascending it to the power of the avatar, and sacrificing the current one.

Yamamoto's plan flourished to life. And, in front of him lie the new avatar, one that would not need to travel the infested lands in search of a teacher, but have access to one right in front of her. He trained her the way he intended to train every other avatar. Giving her the time to practice and learn, and using the time that would otherwise be spent traveling, honing the skills of the avatar soul.

As Kono grew older, and her time neared, Yamamoto and she had bonded greatly. In her final year, Yamamoto told her, that if he'd been king, he would have granted her the title of queen. And asked her to marry him, if even for the short few days they had left.

The day of a new year came, and Kono's body faded from the realm to fight. Anxiously, Yamamoto looked at the skies and watched, begged, and hoped for the light to return. He stared intently, knowing that if the light were to return, it would mean that his love had won the battle, and light would return for one hundred years. That his goal was achieved and he'd succeed what he had planned, what felt like so long ago.

Through his intent staring, over the horizon, the skies cleared, and light graced the lands of Japan for the first time in two hundred years. With this light, meant his wife's soul had passed onto another. Yamamoto sat silently at the foot of Líng Hún Shān, having sacrificed his power, throne, youth, even his wife. Yamamoto sat staring at the skies, afraid they'd turn dark once more. But, understood something new. He wouldn't be the king, or the avatar to Japan through recognition. But he'd be its hidden hero, fated to live in exile for eternity, ensuring the light return every hundred years.