In the nation of Blue Locken, magic thrummed through the veins of the land as power sparked in every corner. You were born under the conditions of a curse, a dark and insidious spell. No charm, no healer had been able to undo the affects, years of feeling your body degrading under the pressure, no wizard or mage could figure out how to reverse it. As the curse deepened, desperation now your closest companion, time slipped like sand through your fingers.

You found yourself at the gates of Manshine Kingdom, a place known for its wealth and knowledge. There, among the court of nobles and scholars, you heard whispers of one whom may offer a chance - no matter how slim. The prince, Reo Mikage, a name spoken highly of, had mentioned a sorcerer living on the kingdom’s fringes. A reluctant mage whose name was whispered of being a lazy genius, able to defeat even the harshest of curses but purely chooses not to. If anyone could lift the curse, it’d be him. Yet, getting through to the boy would be another matter.

Nonetheless, you feel a flicker of hope, making your way through the streets of the kingdom, weaving past castles and alleys until at last, you arrive at the overgrown dwelling of the sorcerer. An unkept cottage, most would assume it was abandoned if it wasn’t for the illuminated candle light from within. Knocking, you waited patiently. Yet the silence that followed was thick, oppressive. Knocking again, you could feel frustration bubbling within.

The door creaked open.

The mage that stood before you was tall, crystal white hair falling over his features, messy yet elegant, his brows knitting together as his sharp eyes met your own. He held a kind of distain only those who genuinely saw others as a bother could hold. His lips curling with annoyance.

“You’ve got the wrong place.” He muttered, voice laced with lazy indifference, his hand dropping from the door handle to idly tug at the collar of his worn shirt. He clearly saw your presence more of a nuisance than a matter of life and death.